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avinaccia · 3 years

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A Completely Objective and Logical Ranking of Every Hetalia Character Song

New character songs are dropping, I have too much time on my hands, let’s go.

Also here’s a Youtube playlist for the ~✨nostalgia✨~

Bring it on in the tags

71. Ah Legendary Class⭐The Awesome Me Highway [Prussia]: Absolutely tearing it up on the drums and on the vocal cords alike (I pray for Atsushi Kousaka). Great for the memes.

70. Happy Thoughts Museum [???]: This is listed as an official song but I had literally never heard of the title. Then I listened to it and BAM! Smack back to 2013 watching the teasers for the show on Funimation. Not sure I’d count it as a character song though...

69. (Nice) My Song that is written by me for me [Prussia]: Deafened me but I can appreciate the industrial grind.

68. My House is...Quiet. ~With the Trolls~ [Norway]: I have never heard this song, nor can I find any version of it online. By default it goes here and I am so sorry Norge.

67. Make a Wish to Santa♪ [Sealand]: The discordant notes and childish exuberance only serve to make this sound like a demonic plea to Santa to eliminate the singer’s enemies.

66. Heaven and Hell on Earth [Rome]: Rome sounds like he’s been in the corner of a restroom. Extra points for the metal version, minus points for the fact that the beach scene was replayed like 1764 times.

65. Canada Complete Introduction [Canada]: Quiet af until Kumacheerio shows up and blows out your speakers. they did you dirty my darling 😔

64. It’s Easy!!! [America]: I don't think any video of this has ever stayed up for more than 20 seconds. Sounds cool, but like I was listening to 20 different genres at once, someone make him calm down.

63. Bù Zàiyì the Small Stuff ☆ [China]: I cannot for the life of me find the complete song anywhere, clips have a cool beat though

62. Let's Boil Hot Water♪ [Italy]: Exactly what it says on the tin..though a bit too close to elevator music for my tastes.

61. The Fragrance of Early Summer [Japan]: Very ‘from the books’ Japan-esque song

60. Peace Sounds Nice…[Baltic Trio]: All well and good until the radio demon shows up

59. W●D●C ~World Dancing~ [America]: How a song can sound like it’s from 4 different decades at once is beyond me

58. Overflowing Passion [BFT]: This is just drunken karaoke and I have 0 clue what’s going on #iconicforallthewrongreasons

57. Ren●Ren●Renaissance♪ [Rome+Chibitalia]: Wholesome Grandpa with Grandson content - barring the fact that Italy sounds on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Rome has had too much wine.

56. Roma Antiqua [Rome]: Similar energy to any one of China’s songs - there’s a part of the song where it sounds like he’s singing in the shower, and I will never not laugh at [CENSORED]

55. Country From Where the Sun Rises, Zipangu [Japan]: Very chill, very Japan, but just meh for me.

54. Moon Over Emei Shan [China]: Good message, okay song.

53. My Friend [England]: What a mind palace you must have Mr. Kirkland

52. With Love, from Iceland [Iceland]: Three words: Heavy. Metal. Puffin.

51. Having Friends is Nice...♫ [Russia]: Russia is the cutest thing ever

50. Mm. [Sweden]: Smooth transition from WWE Smackdown to shopping at IKEA.

49. Why don’t you come over? ~Beyond the Northern Lights~ [Iceland]: I don’t want to be mean but...this does sound like the second closing theme to an anime whose first closing was much more popular (à la Soul Eater)

48. Gakuen☆Festa [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Sounds like a 60s song of the summer but oh dear their voices do not go together. Hella cute though.

47. Wa! Wa!! World Ondo [Main Cast]: One time I travelled 10 hours in a coach bus with a bunch of teenagers to a city of note in my country, and the only souvenir I bought was the fucking PAINT IT WHITE DVD. Perfectly chaotic, UN ĐĕùX~~

46. In the Bluebell Woods [England]: In the album cover for this song he’s holding a guitar but this is not a rock song. Still has ‘running through the hills’ levels of dramatism though.

45. Poi Poi Poi♪ [Taiwan]: You’re telling me that Taiwan, someone whose has *ONE LINE* in Beautiful World (which is criminal tbh what kind of representation-) managed to get an eNTIRE CHARACTER SONG???????

44. White Flame [Russia]: There’s something to be said for a song that is 3x the length of any Hetalia episode

43. Ich liebe… [Germany]: Baking cakes for your friends has never been so wholesome.

42. We Wish you a Merry Christmas [America, China, England, France, Russia]: Nice to see they’ve gotten their shit together since United Nations Sta-hmm.

41. Ah, Worldwide à la mode [France]: Sounds like a Disney Princess song, hard not to picture France frolicking in a field of flowers.

40. Che Bello! ~My House is the Greatest!⭐~ [Italy]: Would not be out of place in an advertisement for Sea World.

39. May You Smile Today [Japan]: THE feel good song of the summer

38. Let’s Look Behind the Rainbow [Italy]: I will protect you.

37. I'm your HERO☆ [America]: “Anyone who’s sad or sullen will be arrested” did NOT age well.

36. Mein Gott! [Prussia]: Alternating headphone effect at the beginning is cool, so is the confidence...the actual singing on the other hand...

35. Nihao⭐China [China]: Listen, all of China’s character songs are great, I just can’t vibe with this one like some of the others.

34. Pechka ~Light My Heart~ [Russia]: I’m still having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that this and Winter were released at the same time.

33. Pukapuka⭐Vacation [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Seems just a bit too much like they’re running on a treadmill that’s picking up speed and trying to sing at the same time. Peppy.

32. Santa Claus is Coming to Town [Germany, Italy, Japan]: This is unironically the best song sung by this trio; can only vibe with for two months out of the year though.

31. Excuse Me, I Am Sorry [Japan]: Japan’s character traits speedrun. Gives me barbershop quartet vibes for some reason but is catchy as hell.

30. The Story of Snow and Dreams [Russia]: A superhero anime opening in the making

29. England’s Evil Demon Summoning Song [England]: Sir that is not how you roast a marshmallow, don’t cut yourself on that edge.

28. Moi Moi Sauna♪ [Finland]: Exactly the type of song you’d expect and it’s wonderful

27. United Nations Star⭐ [America, China, England, France, Russia]: This isn’t as much of a song as it is a four minute struggle for everyone to sing without America yelling every 5 seconds...Like a particularly musical episode of Hetalia.

26. Paris is Indeed Splendid [France]: Paris-pa-pa-pa-paris

25. Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman [England]: Poppy, rocky, polka-dotty

24. Vorwärts Marsch! [Germany]: To quote the comment section: “This sounds like a German version of I’ll Make a Man out of you.” There’s some truth to that.

23. Hamburger Street [America]: The product of America’s rapper phase. 8/10 because he’s trying so hard and because I can unironically sing along to all of this.

22. Hoi Sam☆Nice Guy [Hong Kong]: A song that would absolutely destroy the ankles of anyone in DDR.

21. I Am German-Made [Germany]: There was once a version that had Germany and Prussia singing at the same time and it sounded positively demonic and Broadway could never

20. La pasión no se detiene ~Unstoppable Passion~ [Spain]: Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping...

19. Fall in Love, Mademoiselle [France]: Sounds like it should be in Mozart Opera Rock, I have kiss kiss falled in love.

18. Embrace the Très Bien Moi [France]: This is the definition of SELF LOVE PEOPLE.

17. Carrot and Stick [Belarus&Ukraine]: Absolutely DRIPPING in 2000s power ballad energy. The type of song that plays on repeat in the mind of the widow whose millionaire husband ‘mysteriously disappeared’ (and the only legit character song ever acknowledged by the anime)

16. C.B.C (Cowboyz Boot Camp) Vol. 1 [America]: AH MAH GAWWDDD

15. Winter [Russia]: Heavy metal fever dream and the perfect song for an angst-ridden teenager

14. Seychelles Here ⭐ Vacation Island [Seychelles]: UN👏DER👏RA👏TED SONG👏OF 👏THE 👏SUM👏MER👏

13. Nah, it will settle itself somehow [Romano]: One day I aspire to reach this level of chill

12. Let’s Enjoy Today [England]: I will never not feel happy when listening to this.

11. Einsamkeit [Germany]: Ludwig manages to air every single one of his worries about not being good enough compared to his friends and always being perceived as mean or uptight when he’s actually just a softie and now my heart hurts. 💔

10. Aiyaa Four Thousand Years [China]: A very poignant and beautiful song about the passage of time and the inevitability of its passing; comparable to an ancient ballad complete with explosive crescendos and meaningful lyrics.

9. Bon Bon Bon❤️C’est Bon C’est Bon! [France]: Peppy, cheerful, adorable, groundbreaking; has been my alarm tone for six years and I’ve yet to tire of it. 9/10 The moaning interspersed throughout has been an interesting wake-up call.

8. Let’s Enjoy! Let’s Get Excited! Cheers! [Denmark]: This is on par with Everytime we Touch by Cascada in terms of rage potential unlocked (the good kind)

7. Dream Journey [Japan]: Whoever’s playing the shakuhachi is absolutely KILLING IT. Dramatic, wonderful, great metaphors.

6. Gourmet’s Heart Beginner Level [China]: Absolute banger, I’m a vegetarian but this would inspire me to eat shumai.

5. Always with you...Nordic Five! [Nordic FIVVVVVEEEE]: Everyone harmonizes beautifully except for Denmark. Extremely catchy, number placement seemed appropriate.

4. Pub and GO! [England]: I love this trash man

3. Maji Kandou⭐Hong Kong Night [Hong Kong]: If you thought Denmark’s song was a banger JUST YOU WAIT. I WILL BLOW OUT MY SPEAKERS LISTENING TO LO-HA-SU.

2. Steady Rhythmus [Germany]: THIS SONG IS METAL AF. Seriously, if it can be classified as ‘hardcore’ by my father and his group of 50-somethings who have decided to single-handedly gatekeep the metal and hardrock genres, it can do anything.

1. The Delicious Tomato Song 🍅 [Romano]: Beautiful, absolutely awe-inspiring, poignant, catchy lyrics with an extremely deep meaning that only years of meticulous research and analysis can unlock, Romano I love you.

BONUS: Closing Songs

5. Hatafutte Parade (World Series)

4. Hetalian⭐Jet (The World Twinkle): The song is good, the dancing is cursed

3. Chikyuu Marugoto Hug Shitainda (World⭐Stars)

2. Marukaite Chikyuu (Hetalia: Axis Powers): nE NE PaPA

1. Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (The Beautiful World)

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miserablesme · 3 years

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 1: Barbican Previews

Hello everyone! I'm starting out a blog which will look at my favorite musical, Les Miserables, and will discuss the various changes it has gone through over time (musically and lyrically). As it turns out, a LOT of edits have been made over the years so this will doubtless be a series with several parts.

This first part may well be the most difficult and will almost certainly be the most incomplete, as previews can be a time of extensive editing and experimentation. At least for the first few weeks or so, it's perfectly possible any one day of previews will be slightly different than any other day. However, I only have access to two audios from the Barbican Theatre previews of Les Miserables, meaning it's likely that lyrical variants exist which I have no way of hearing.

I am aware of the existence of a third audio which is fairly early in the run of previews, as the tape's master has told me that Gavroche's death scene is in its original form (I'll clarify that later). However, that tape has never been traded, and has sadly only been listened to by its master. I am also aware of a video proshot of the Barbican era that exists in the Royal Shakespeare Company library, but currently have no access to it. I plan to inquire about whether I can look at it sometime (though I'm not sure a blog like this is "official" enough to warrant it for research purposes). As such, this comparison only entails the two widely circulated audios from the Barbican run.

Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's get started!

First, let's look at the opening "Work Song". In the earlier recording I have (let's call it R1), the beginning music (the same tune used, for instance, at the opening of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More" and for Marius and Cosette's meeting in "The Robbery") stops. Then, a few moments later, the more familiar opening that leads directly into the prologue begins. By the time of the later recording I have (let's call it R2), the scores have been combined so that the first tune directly transitions into the second one.

Meanwhile, in R1 there is a sequence of lines that goes as follows:

I've done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn't care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn't worth your life

I know she'll wait

I know that she'll be true

Look down, look down

She's long forgotten you

Most fans of the musical recognize the middle sequence of lines ("I killed a man" through "She wasn't worth your life") as no longer being lines in the show (for good reason, as we'll get into in a later edition of this blog). However, R2 keeps the lines. Instead, it deletes the third sequence ("I know she'll wait" through "She's long forgotten you"). I have no idea if this lasted only a few performances or made it all the way to the end of the Barbican run, or somewhere in between.

During "On Parole", specifically after Valjean is underpaid for his labor and sings about his frustration, R1 uses a variation of the "Work Song" theme which, to my recollection, is heard nowhere else in the musical. It can be heard here. By R2, it was switched to an in-tune version of the number with a unique opening. The musical retains that version to this day, but in case you can't recall it you can hear it here.

Minus an unintentional line flub in "At the End of the Day" in R2, the two Barbican recordings seem to use the same libretto and score from this point until "The Runaway Cart". At this point, R1 has a rather extensive scene leading up to Valjean saving Fauchelevent, which goes approximately as follows (the dialog is difficult to make out):

(VALJEAN)

Is there anyone here who will rescue the man?

Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart?

I will pay any man thirty louis d’or more

I will do it myself if there’s no one who will

We can’t let him die like that down in the street

Can you all watch him die and do nothing at all?

(FAUCHELEVENT)

Don’t approach me, Monsieur Mayor

The cart’s not gonna be holding

Not my poor mother would care if I should die

(TOWNSPEOPLE)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

The old man's a goner for sure

Leave him alone

Most of that dialog is deleted in R2, so that it goes directly from "Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart" to "Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor". I really like the idea of the original version; it seems reasonable that Valjean, having become a more trusted man, would expect the townspeople to help him. It's more meaningful that Valjean is good enough to do what's right when there's more time to establish that no one else is. Having said that, the original version did take quite a while and didn't really contain any relevant information that wasn't in the final version. I think the cut version as heard in R2 is a good compromise and retains the general mood and pacing to make Valjean's ultimate action satisfying (something that can't be said of later cuts, as will be discussed in a future edition of this blog).

Additionally, at the end of the number Javert refers to "the mark upon his skin" in R1 and "the brand upon his skin in R2 (as well as literally every subsequent performance since then to my knowledge). I have no idea if the "mark" line was a minor flub or was actually the original lyric.

"Who Am I?" is an interesting one. The musical content is identical in R1 and R2, but in R1 after his high note, Valjean shouts "You know where to find me!" with emotion so dramatic it sits right on the border between awesome and campy. By contrast, Valjean is totally silent after his high note in R2. Neither version would see its final day just yet, although the latter certainly has become more traditional over time. More on that in future editions.

From this point until "Master of the House" everything is the same between the two recordings. Roger Allam even comes in slightly late in both "Confrontation" scenes (making his line "-jean, at last...")! However, in the opening to "Master of the House" the following lines occur in R1:

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of dissolutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores

Spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons flying in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain't got a clue what he put into his stew

Must've scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must've pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

All of those lines would be scrapped in R2. Personally I prefer this shortened variant than the one that would occur much later. Sure, some fun moments get lost, but nothing that actually adds any substance or characterization to the musical (unlike the later cut, which I'll discuss in a later edition of this blog). Some have speculated that this is simply lost dialog due to a tape flip of degrading, given that future performances would retain those lines. However, there is firsthand confirmation that the cuts were in fact part of the performance. To quote Trevor Nunn on page 87 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables (a page which elaborates that "the cost of overtime incurred after three hours could be crippling at a time when Les Miserables was still trying to find an audience"):

"Cameron wanted major cuts, which would have reduced its length to two and a half hours. I resisted, refusing to discuss things on those terms... Some of the other proposed cuts - like the removal of the "Master of the House" scene-setting preamble - were tried out in previews and then restored as the scenes would not work without them."

From a historical perspective that quote is invaluable. As will be brought up in a later blog post (notice a pattern today?) the musical would in fact be cut much later to avoid overtime charges. When people like myself have expressed the opinion that these cuts come at the expense of artistic integrity, I've seen others defend them by claiming that the overtime costs never were relevant to Cameron and the gang until Broadway sales began to go down, and that if they were taken into account the musical may well be in its shortened form from the beginning. However, this quote proves that argument to be false. Right from day one, the crew was aware that retaining a >3 hour runtime would come with severe financial costs, but this was deemed a worthy sacrifice in order to tell the story they wanted told. Indeed, it sounds like Cameron Mackintosh was waiting quite some time to enact his infamous cuts! (Cameron Mackintosh valuing profit above art?! Crazy, right??)

But I digress. Going back to the musical, the "Waltz of Treachery" number is mostly the same. However, after Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" line, R1 has over a minute of wordless vamping which leads right into the rather awkwardly-placed "Stars" song. By contrast, in R2 this vamping (which is still a minute long, mind you) leads into a humming duet between Little Cosette and Valjean, similar to the duet right before the number. A nice little bookend that makes the scene feel all the more resolved. (Much later this duet reprise would ironically be scrapped again, though!) The remaining segment of R1's vamping now plays after this sequence in R2.

Minus some unintentional missed lines at the beginning of "Stars" in R1, the recordings seem to follow the same libretto right up until "One Day More". Here, R1 uses the following lines:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

Was there ever love so true?

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

However, by R2 this scene is in its current form:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

And I swear I will be true

And that closes act one! Going on to the second act, the opening barricade scene has a few changes. First off, following the opening notes, R1 features a rather odd tune bearing resemblance to "Do You Hear the People Sing" (which can be heard here) before transitioning to a more true-to-form instrumental reprise of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" By contrast, R2 goes straight from the opening notes to the true-to-form reprise.

Next, Enjolras proclaims "Have faith in yourself and do not be afraid" in R1, while in R2 he instead states "Every man to his duty and don't be afraid". It's unknown if this was an intentional libretto change or if it simply reflects a flub during R1. A later sequence uses the "Have faith in yourself" line, meaning he may have just sung the wrong line for that particular scene.

Finally, R1 includes the following sequence (at least I think this is how it goes, since the lyrics are a little hard to hear):

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And join with you

Who gives a speech in the square

Fortunately, R2 uses a much less clunky (though still somewhat so) sequence:

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And so they might

Some will bark, some will bite

This isn't quite its current form ("dogs" and "fleas" will soon respectively replace the two usages of "some"), but it's pretty darn close.

I've heard that the very first Barbican preview(s?) didn't have a finalized opening to "On My Own". Sadly there is no known audio record of this, so I cannot comment on what exactly it began as. As such, the next major change takes place during Gavroche's death scene. This honestly is probably the biggest of all the changes between the two recordings. R1 uses the following death scene (in the tune of "Look Down" right up until the "So never kick a dog" verse, which is in the tune of "Little People"):

How do you do, my name’s Gavroche

These are my people, here’s my patch

Not much to look at, nothing posh

Nothing that you’d call up to scratch

Some fool, I bet, whose brains are made of fat

Picks up a gun and shoots me down

Nobody told him who he’s shooting at

He doesn’t know who runs this town

Life’s like that

There’s some folk

Missed the joke

That’s three, that’s three

That one has done for me

Too fast, too fast

They’ve got Gavroche at last

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You better run for cover when the pup grows...

By contrast, R2 uses a much shorter variant which is set entirely to the tune of "Little People":

And little people know

When little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog

Because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give...

This is much closer to its current form, although the last two lines are inverted (we'll get to that in a later edition).

We now fast-forward to "Dog Eats Dog", which while recognizable is very different from the number we know today. The chorus of R1 claims that "It's a dirty great sewer that's crawling with rats", which R2 changes it to "stinking great sewer" instead. I'd definitely say the revised lyric better captures Thenardier's and the sewer's grossness.

Additionally, regarding Marius' ring, Thenardier originally exclaims that he "didn't mean to waste it, that would really be a crime". By R2, the line changes to "wouldn't want to waste it", which I'd say makes a lot more sense.

"Javert's Suicide" has changed a lot. R1 features the following remarks following "Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life":

Damned if I live in this caper of grace

Damned if I live in the debt of Valjean

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

Is this the law or has sanity gone?

(I'm a little unsure as to how accurate the final line is.)

By R2, the lines have been replaced with the current ones:

Damned if I live in the debt of a thief

Damned if I yield at the end of the chase

I am the law and the law is not mocked

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

In R1, the "Where's the new world, now the fighting's done" line is absent, and there is nothing but instrumentals in the segment where it is usually sung. By contrast, it is sung as usual in R2. My guess is that an actress simply forgot her line in R1 and it was always supposed to be there, though I can't say for sure.

The final change occurs at the wedding scene. The singing which opens the number is repeated in R1. By contrast, R2 has it sung once and then done with, as it currently is (and as it should be in my opinion, since the music isn't particularly pretty and contributes nothing to the plot).

Later in the same scene, R1 includes approximately this exchange (again, it's quite hard to make out the exact lyrics):

(THENARDIER)

I was there

Never fear

Even got me this fine souvenir

He was there

Her old dad

*indecipherable* and fleecing this lad

Robbed the dead

That's his way

(MME. THENARDIER)

That's worth five hundred any old day

(MARIUS)

I know this...

By R2, everything between "He was there" and "Any old day" were removed, which makes sense given that they essentially just rehash what was already said.

Finally, there's a subtle difference in the epilogue, specifically during the "Do You Hear the People Sing?" reprise. In R1, the ensemble sings "They will live again in glory in the garden of the Lord". R2 replaces the word "glory" with "freedom", and that word remains the one used to this day. I suppose "freedom" is more appropriate for the context of peace and prosperity. To many, I'd guess that "glory" conjures imagery of knights, battles, and the like; just the kind of violence that the characters wish to move away from! I have no idea if this was why the writers changed the lyric, but it's my hypothesis.

Towards the end of the show, the chorus in R1 sings "Even the darkest moon will end and the sun will rise". By R2, this is changed to "the darkest night". Makes more sense to me, since moons aren't known for being particularly dark!

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what's commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I'd love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye...

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beyond-the-mirror · 3 years

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Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Chapter 7 is finally here! As I have mentioned a couple posts ago I am going to focus solely on this story for the time being. I will try my best to update at least once per week so stay tuned.

Warnings: A little angst in a few parts.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon @minteyeddemon @vampiregirl1797

If you wish to be tagged in this story let me know in the comments.

………………….

Chapter 7: Nightingale in the Cage

“So Bishop, would you mind explaining to us the reason you decided to become a patron for the Opera house?”

“Oh not at all.” Sanctus took a deep breath before speaking again. “As you may have heard in the local news, an estranged brother of mine passed away some time ago, may his soul rest in peace. Days later I received a visit from his lawyer, apparently he had accumulated quite the fortune and his testament determined that I would be the sole heir of all his possessions and shares.” The Bishop made a brief pause, the death of his brother still weighing down his heart. “I actually have no need for such a large sum of money, which is why I only kept a modest enough amount for me and decided to donate the rest in favor of the conservation of the arts.”

“A rather noble cause indeed Bishop, our sincerest apologies for your loss.” Monsieur Andre added.

“Thank you for your condolences. All my life I’ve considered myself to be an admirer of the fine arts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t love more than to finance Fortuna’s famous Opera House and support the careers of its many skilled artists.”

“And we shall be forever grateful for your patronage bishop.” Monsieur Firmin mentioned before lifting his champagne glass. “Let’s have a toast for the future of Fortuna’s Opera House.”

“For the future of this new society.” Raoul finished before the men raised their glasses together in glee. The vicomte, however, seemed to have a sense of sadness in his eyes that he hid all too well from everybody. How he wished to spend more time with you, but didn’t find you at the party.

Maybe you were too exhausted to attend and went home instead? Whatever it was, he wished you were okay.

………………….

‘The newest play from Fortuna’s Theatre Company, Hannibal, has been critically acclaimed by specialized press, scoring an impressive average of 4.6 out of 5 stars’

‘The exquisite acting and choreography are to be praised. However, its most prominent figure is the miraculous voice of the main singer, who has replaced iconic soprano Carlotta Guidicelli as the protagonist.’

‘Step down Carlotta! A new queen has arrived and the spotlight is all hers!’

‘In a shocking turn of events, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli, believed to be the company's successor to legendary soprano Kyrie Eleison, has been overshadowed by a new rising talent. A humble fortunian songstress by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’

‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N). The break-through songstress that has captivated the audience’s hearts. Is this the birth of a brand new star?’

Reviews, articles and blog posts about the company’s new soprano spread around the internet like wildfire, every single one focusing on the same subject: The mysterious soprano that took Fortuna by surprise and dethroned 'La Carlota’ herself.

The girl had become the theatre’s own Venus and Aphrodite, a muse that inspired all the souls touched by her melodious voice. A nightingale turned human, an angel descended to Earth.

But as her performances continued and her fame grew, a few observant enough would take notice of certain… details regarding her.

The truth behind this? A sinister shadow was tormenting the theatre’s beloved angel, one that threatened to consume not only her, but everything around.

………………….

“I refuse to accept this!” Carlotta stomped her heel on the marbled floor of her lavish bedroom, taking a sip from the almost full glass of wine in her hand.

Ever since that fiasco when she stormed out of the theatre during the rehearsals for ‘Hannibal’, the soprano’s life seemingly started turning for the worse, all because of that girl that once dared to collide with her during rehearsal. She had insisted the dancer had done so on purpose, envious of her great talent.

And now it turns out that dancer is the same one that took her role as the main protagonist! Carlotta felt offended by such a decision, she was a professional while that girl was just a simple amateur

Still, she had to admit this (Y/N) had a gifted voice. What she could not explain is how she managed to perfect her skill to such a high level if she claimed to be an inexperienced singer? As talented as one could be, it takes years of work and practice to master one’s craft, the only explanation she could come up with was that the girl had to have a special tutor, and an exceptional one at that.

But who?

Realizing her glass was already empty, Carlotta hurried to refill it again. She had believed that with Kyrie gone to Broadway, she now had the stage clear for herself to finally shine above everyone else, after all, the only voice above Signora Carlotta could only be that of Fortuna’s legendary songstress herself.

Such hopes were now broken. She had a new competitor, one that was already stealing the spotlights.

As she turned to the broadcast of the company’s most recent play, she huffed when the camera focused on the new main singer. The audience had fallen right into her trap, and now she had them all wrapped around her lithe finger.

“I don’t know what they see in her, she’s nothing special and she’s not that pretty. Especially with those dark circles under her eyes, does she even sleep? Careful girl, you are already losing your youth.” Carlotta snorted before downing her glass of wine.

………………….

“Vicomte Raoul! Bishop Sanctus! We weren’t quite expecting your visit to our Opera House. What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

Messieurs Andre and Firmin almost tripped over their own feet as they hurried to attend the Opera House’s important benefactors. Raoul managed to hide his laughter at their eagerness, while Sanctus simply offered the two a gentle smile.

“Do not worry for us, messieurs. This fine theatre holds so many precious memories of my youth, so I thought it appropriate to drop by and watch the rehearsals take place if you don’t mind us.”

“Oh, not at all Bishop! This way please.”

As the four men approached the hall, a melodious voice resonated through the walls.

“Ah! You are in luck. Our lead singer seems to be on stage right now practicing one of her numbers.” Firmin noted just as he opened the door to the main hall.

Madame Trish was supervising as usual, you stood at the stage performing an aria while Monsieur Reyer directed your voice through the song’s notes. As he took a seat near the stage next to Sanctus, Raoul was mesmerized by your singing figure, the passion and dedication you imprinted on your work palpable and strong enough to touch the hearts of others.

“An utter beauty, isn’t she?” The elder’s voice snapped him out of his trance. As he turned to face Sanctus, he noticed the soft smile and knowing look in his eyes. He gulped, were his feelings that obvious? Then again, Sanctus has seen and learned a lot during the many years of his long life, wisdom comes with age after all.

“Ah! Young love! Perhaps the purest and most innocent of them all.” The bishop gave a hearty chuckle. “Miss (Y/N) is definitely special. Her voice alone holds so much power, enough to make the entire audience bow to her, and yet she still remains humble and authentic.”

Raoul turned his attention back to the stage where you were now conversing with Trish and Reyer about your routine during the number. The vicomte could see what Sanctus meant, you weren’t arrogant or prideful like Carlotta, but rather attentive and open to the feedback and mentoring offered to you.

A smile grazed his lips. He had just met you and already you were taking over his heart and mind.

Still as he observed you going through the song one more time, there was something off that caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The heave of your chest whenever you ended a verse, the slight trembles of your feet whenever they moved along the lines marked on the stage by Trish.

You looked… tired? Exhausted, perhaps? No... more like detached.

But you continued the rehearsal with no trouble. Maybe your sudden growing popularity was already taking its toll on you, as well as all the performances you had to do at the theatre. For anyone without experience, such exhaustion is understandable.

In the seat next to him, Bishop Sanctus was also studying you. However, his expression seemed more preoccupied than that of the vicomte. He too had noticed some kind of dark aura looming around you, and he pondered what this could mean for the Opera House’s future, and for his plans too.

………………….

petite.aerette I can’t believe I finally got to watch #Hannibal. So happy to know the Opera House is on the rise once again. #FortunaOperaHouse #theatre #musical

alya_hyacinth You saw it live? Girl, I’m jealous!

dramaqueen101 Aaah I was there too! I wish you told me you were going, we could have gone together and have our seats next to each other.

petite.aerette Sorry! Mom surprised me with our tickets that same morning. Did you see that new singer everyone is talking about? She is awesome! I already love her voice and acting!

dramaqueen101 I know right?! In fact I caught a glimpse of her after the play when she retired to her dressing room. I wanted to go talk to her but it was too crowded and she seemed to be in a rush. However I noticed she looked a bit tired? As if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

………………….

Free time had become a luxury for Nico. There was always something to fix, something to supervise, something to check. Whatever breaks she would get, she welcomed them with open arms and relaxed as much as she could before it was back to work again.

It was in one of these breaks when she ran into you, what better way to enjoy some free time than with a dear friend?

But as she approached your figure, Nico took notice of your appearance. Your skin was now as pale as a ghost, your eyes were heavy with sleepiness and dark circles framing them. You looked as if you were about to collapse at any given moment.

“Hey, you alright sugarcube?” Nico’s hands went to your arms by instinct, just in case you were feeling sick and you needed to be rushed to the infirmary. But with a small smile, you tried to ease her worries.

“Couldn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“Uh huh…” Nico was many things, highly perceptive was one of those. Many have found out the hard way that she was not an easy one to fool. Of course, it was no surprise that she could see right through your words. “Come. Let’s get you some warm tea.”

Stern and maybe a bit harsh, but caring when the situation called for it. That was Nicoletta Goldstein for you. One of the most surprising things about her is that she made the best tea in the world according to the people working at the theatre.

“This should ease you a bit, honey. Careful, it’s still hot.” As she handed you the small cup, she looked at you with worry in her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead she waited for you to open up and tell her what was wrong.

You could already picture the almost dead look you must have had. With slightly shaky hands you held onto the porcelain cup, raising it to your lips and gently blowing the steam to cool it down a bit. As a warm earthy flavor filled your taste buds, your body could finally ease up and relax even if just for a little while, granting you a moment of much needed peace.

Still, you didn’t find it in yourself to tell her.

Luckily for you, Nico knew better than to keep insisting. She figured that whatever was worrying you, you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nonetheless, she stayed right by your side in a comfortable silence with a cup of tea of her own.

It was a nice and peaceful moment, at least until she was called to check on one of the moving stage props.

And so she excused herself, but not before reminding you that you could always count on her for anything.

What Nico didn’t know, however, was the reason for your silence.

You didn’t tell her because something was forcing you to.

………………….

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And soon enough, time itself began to blur.

Ever since that night at his sanctuary, everything felt… off.

You had woken up in your bed, feeling dazed and lightheaded, perhaps the effects of the turmoil from the previous night.

V. The first thing on your mind as soon as you recovered your consciousness was him.

You wanted, no, needed to find him and get some answers. Why did he disappear so many years ago? Why was he hiding his true identity from you?

… What were those black markings scarring his face?

There was just one problem, you didn’t know where exactly was his sanctuary located. The secret passage behind the mirror in your dressing room came to mind, but in order to navigate the underground canals you needed a boat, not to mention that it was easy to get lost in there. Maybe you could ask the authorities for help, but how could you explain your story and make them believe you?

You made your decision on the way to the Opera House. You would start by telling Nico for the moment, you trusted her enough and she often gave the best advice on any matter.

But the moment you spotted her in the distance and tried to approach her, something strange happened.

An unseen force lodged itself in your chest, holding your voice and your heart in a vice grip that burned through your entire body. All the air in your lungs escaped you, and the feeling of daze you felt that morning returned in full force. You tried to scream, call for help, but no sound would come out of your lips. All words died as soon as they left your vocal chords.

You watched Nico leaving after someone required her assistance, and as soon as she disappeared from your line of sight, the pain stopped. As sudden as it had arrived.

You remained frozen in your place, goosebumps raised on your flesh. The moment some sensation came back to your legs, you ran away.

The day continued with relative normalcy, but your mind remained perturbed. And hours later, just as all the scheduled performances had ended for the day, you headed for your dressing room.

Once inside, the mirror opened, and everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, it was already morning the next day. Once again you woke in your bed, feeling as dazed and lightheaded as the day before. But the feeling didn’t go away, and with everyday that passed, it only became worse.

Strangely enough, your performances never faltered once despite the unknown illness weighing you down, almost as if you were doing everything automatically, like a machine following its program. You were thankful for this apparent ability to keep it together, but soon you started feeling detached. It reached a point when you could no longer feel your own body, or the melodic notes leaving your lips. You were no longer living, but rather watching your life unfold itself without any input of your own.

Many times you made an attempt to tell someone, anyone, about this; but you found that every single time you were about to do so, that terrible pain would return until you desisted. Soon, you were conditioned to stay quiet.

One day Nico began noticing your predicament, but by then that obscure force had you under its control already. She was right there, concerned and willing to help. And yet you didn’t dare to speak up.

Panic often filled your mind, hopelessness flooded your soul. You prayed and prayed for this nightmare to stop.

After another successful performance, the last one for the day, you found yourself inside the main dressing room as usual.

And as usual, the mirror opened, letting out the hidden darkness that haunted the Opera House behind everyone’s backs.

………………….

Poor unfortunate Joseph Buquet.

Ever since that incident with the falling curtain, Nico had him double checking pretty much everything. Every rope, pulley and mechanism had to be meticulously examined in order to prevent another incident like that from happening again. Now he understood why it was such an important and critical matter, the least he wanted was for anybody to be harmed due to a malfunction after all, but his own anxiety over making a mistake and causing another accident was already getting him. The poor man would triple- no, cuadruple check every single detail in an almost paranoid way. Not a single nook or cranny would be left unattended by this dedicated worker.

So it was no surprise that today was especially bad for the nervous Mr. Buquet, for his trusty utility belt had been misplaced, making him search the whole building for his precious tools.

Only after finding his utility belt did Buquet allow himself to feel relieved, a heavy burden lifting off his tired shoulders. He was making his way back to the fly floor when the sound of hurried steps nearby reached his ears, as he turned at a corner he caught a glimpse of you closing the door to your dressing room shut. Noticing the way you entered the room in such a haste, he worried something might have happened to you. Maybe you were feeling sick and needed to rest? These days you had been looking paler than usual, and the man had to admit that seeing you in your current lamentable state tugged at his heartstrings.

Walking to your door, Buquet politely knocked at the wooden surface “Miss (Y/N), is everything alright?” But no answer came back.

He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Miss (Y/N), are you there?” Again, no answer.

Now he was getting genuinely concerned. He even pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whatever was happening inside, but he found only silence.

“Miss (Y/N) I’m opening the door right now!” Buquet immediately took hold of the knob and slowly cracked it open, merely peeking inside just in case you needed some privacy after all.

The sight that greeted him sent chills to his very bones.

A tall shadowy figure towered at the back of the room, its arms wrapped around your unconscious body in a seemingly possessive manner. Like a ghost, it moved towards the mirror and disappeared with you in its arms.

Buquet stood frozen as his mind tried to process what just happened before him.

He had heard the stories, rumors about an entity that haunted the Opera House. Some workers would mention seeing shadows through the corners of their eyes, others would claim that low growling noises could be heard at the hallways when they were empty enough, and a few would tell how they found strange iridescent blue feathers in the most bizarre locations inside the premises.

His mind pictured the heavy curtain that mysteriously fell on Carlotta. Then, the strange Box Four that always remained unoccupied despite the concierge’s claims about hearing a voice coming from inside.

They called it different names. A poltergeist, a monster, a demon… a Phantom…

But this time they hadn’t moved a prop or taken a simple object with them.

This time, they had taken a person.

………………….

Locked inside one of the restrooms designated for the staff, Mr. Buquet did his best to calm himself down. He had just witnessed the kidnapping of a promising young woman by the hands of an… an entity.

His hands flew to his hair in panic. What could he do? Nobody would believe a phantom had spirited away the company’s Prima Donna!

He… he had to have been hallucinating! Yes, that had to be it. For years the staff has accused the Phantom for all the minor inconveniences that often sabotaged rehearsals and productions, but this was an entirely different story, a songstress was just kidnapped for Lord Sparda’s sake! Urban legends or not, the supposed Phantom had never gone to these extremes before.

Splashing some cold water on his tired face one last time, Buquet finally exited the restroom and made his way back home, all the while reassuring himself that what he had witnessed couldn’t have been real.

‘Tomorrow Miss (Y/N) is gonna come to work as always. Nothing bad happened to her. Right now she is at home, resting on her bed.’ He would repeat himself over and over.

And the next day, Buquet got his much needed relief when he saw you rehearsing at the stage as if nothing had transcurred the night before. He almost let out an euphoric laugh when he saw you safe and sound and that he had been anxious for nothing.

Concluding that the constant burnout was the cause of his hallucinations, Mr. Buquet requested for a few days off to recover, a request that Monsieur Andre approved without thinking twice.

Everything was going to be okay… or so thought Joseph Buquet.

Castings for a new production called ‘Il Muto’ were about to start in a few weeks, and everyone was about to witness how a single wrong decision could unleash the most gruesome of horrors.

#devil may cry #phantom of the opera #Vitale Sparda #dmc v #v x fem!reader #v x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writings from the mirror

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

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Hello, Phoebe. I’m back :)

How are you doing? Just put whatever you feel like here! This ask is the Phoebe Show; make it yours!

Lyssa, it is always a pleasure to see you in my notifs, but especially in my ask box! Thank you for filling it with kind words, awesome prompts, and fun questions for me to play around with.

This blog is the closest I imagine I'll ever come to having the Phoebe Delia Show, and since you have given me free rein with this ask, I shall endeavor to make it count.

I've gotten some incredible asks about my interests, but I'm going to answer a question that has been asked by exactly no one and rank Taylor Swift's albums.

This will be in order of my favorites; this isn't necessarily a reflection of what I think the rank would be in terms of objective quality; instead, this is based on my own personal enjoyment of the albums.

As always, I will provide a little explanation as to my reasoning, because I am nothing if not indulgent.

I actually really surprised myself with this ranking; as I looked through the albums I evaluated each by counting the number of songs I liked off of each one, and the ranking I thought I had has now changed. (I will explain in my comments!).

So! With that said. The Phoebe Delia Show Presents: Ranking Taylor Swift Albums.

1. Speak Now--To me, there is only one skip on this entire album; it is bop after bop. (If you're wondering, I think "Innocent" is the skip). Every song is just fun! I should also point out that this is also my favorite in part because Taylor said it was inspired by theater/Broadway.

2. 1989--I'm gonna be honest and say that I'm ashamed to have sort of slept on this album for so long. Don't get me wrong--I listened to and enjoyed it a lot when it came out, but I always sort of automatically pushed it further down on my list in favor of my 3rd choice because I liked the songs on my 3rd choice more. But now that I'm older and my music taste has somewhat evolved, I think I can say that 1989 is my 2nd favorite. There are truly no skips on this album. Yes, I know I said SN has a skip, but that album holds a special place in my heart so it gets number 1. I was thinking it over today, and while Taylor has always been amazing, I think this is the album that launched her into superstardom. We, her fans, knew she could do anything, but she still shocked us all by making the transition to an entirely pop album. Remember the "Blank Space" and "Bad Blood" music videos? I still think those are two fo my favorite of her mvs, though LWYMMD is a close second.

3. Red--Oh, my beloved. This album is wonderful. I have a lot of memories associated with this one, particularly watching the WANGBT music video and the IKYWT parody with the fucking goat that makes me laugh so hard even to this day. I am SO pumped for TV in November!! And while, yes, "All Too Well" is my favorite song on the album (and my fave TS song overall), "Holy Ground" is slept on and amazing.

4. folklore--This album is probably the most meaningful to me of them all just because of when it came out. We as an entire global community were struggling, and I know I had immense privilege to have been healthy and safe during that time. Still, like everyone else, I was depressed, lonely, and felt trapped inside my home and inside my mind. I will never forget listening to this album in my room and gasping when I heard TIMT. Not long after this album came out, I also lost my family dog, and this album was essential in helping me grieve. This album saved my sanity and gave me a cathartic outlet. I will be forever grateful to Taylor for writing it.

5. Reputation--This is another one for which I have a lot of memories. I will never forget when the LWYMMD music video came out and the world lost its entire mind. Taylor said there are still easter eggs we missed and I want someone to find them please and thank you. There are a few songs on this album that I'm not obsessed with, but the storytelling is so cohesive and creative. On the surface, one might think Taylor was being petty or whiny, but if you look closer--and remember the utter hell she was going through at the time--I think there are deeper meanings than her just getting back at Kim and Kanye.

6. Fearless--Oh, this album. It has some of her most iconic songs: YBWM, "White Horse," "Love Story"," "Forever and Always," etc. I truly wish I could tie this one with Rep, but I think Rep edges this one out *just* barely with songwriting/lyrical quality. I also don't know if I'll ever fully get over the fact that she kept "Mr. Perfectly Fine" from us for so long, but I suppose I can consider the 10 min "All Too Well" on Red TV to be proper repayment. ;)

7. evermore--I could not believe my eyes when she announced this album. How can this woman write this fast and this well!! I will never forget listening to "champagne problems," "no body, no crime," and "tolerate it" in particular. I ranked this after reputation just bc I think I enjoy listening to Rep more, but some of the songwriting on this album is *chefs kiss.*

8. Lover--I know, I know, I'm sorry. I don't want to put this one so low on the list but I just kind of can't put it any higher? I really love some of the songs on this album, but SYGB is too sad for me, "London Boy" kinda annoys me I'm sorry, and I just never really got into INTHAF or "Afterglow." But, that said, every other song on the album is a bop, even ME!, although I listen to the live version over the studio recording. It's a great album though.

9. Taylor Swift (Debut album)--I feel a little bad ranking this so low but I cannot honestly tell you that this album is better than her others, and something has to be last on the list. There are also some great, classic songs on this album. So, instead of being critical, I'm instead going to say that I remember vividly seeing a snippet of "Teardrops On My Guitar" advertised on Disney Channel for Radio Disney. It makes me smile to think of how far she's come since then.

And that concludes this episode of The Phoebe Delia Show! Tune in next time where I post some other self-indulgent opinion about one of my interests and hope it reaches people who care to read it :)

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

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soundsof71 · 3 years

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for the album thing: born in the usa :)

I could write a book about any of Bruce’s records from Born To Run to Born In The USA. I did in fact write my grad school thesis using Nebraska as the hook: ”Vehicles of Grace: Automobile Imagery and Salvation in the works of Bruce Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor” LOL which is one million percent true.

In fact, I bought Nebraska on my first day of class in grad school (a whole story by itself), and BITUSA came out as I was finishing my coursework two years later. It’s hard to overstate how hard this one hit, but my reaction was kind of complicated, so I’ll tell ya all about it.

the first song from this album I heard: “Dancing In The Dark”, which came out as a single before the album. Followed immediately by “Pink Cadillac”, its b-side. We played the SHIT out of that song in particular, far more than the A side, and were dumbfounded that it wasn’t on the album.

do I own the album?: Obvs, but there’s a story. Of course. My girlfriend and I bought it on vinyl the day it came out in June (we weren’t married yet, but we’d merged our record collections the previous year LOL), then for my birthday in August, she bought me a CD player for like $800 (they were expensive as FUCK when they first came out -- and $800 was even more of a fuckton of money back in those days, especially for a couple of grad students), with one CD, Born In The USA. That one CD was more than reason enough to spend the dough on a player.

I still have that CD, along with the ticket for show where we saw Bruce on our honeymoon in England, at St. James Park in Newcastle, in June 1985. He’d just gotten married too (the first time), which is a whole ‘nother story too. Oh, and I still have the sweatshirt from that show! I'll post a picture of all this some time.

my favorite song: Wellll....here’s where it gets kinda complicated. Bruce had a notoriously hard time picking songs for the record. He’d recorded something like 50 songs for the album, and once he cut the list to 30 or so, he kept asking people he trusted to pick THEIR favorite running order. (Dave Marsh talked about this in his book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, and I haven’t heard it much discussed since then.) It’s hard to argue with the finished results, but you know what? I kinda do, still, all these years later. LOL

My favorite song OF the album, no question, is “Shut Out The Light”. (Check my tag for this song to hear some more about it.) It was first released as the b-side to the 7 inch single of “Born In The USA” (remarkably, the third single from the record), and wouldn’t show up on CD until 1998 on the Tracks anthology. Tracks was 4 CDs in all (should probably have been 6 discs, and COULD have been 10), but I bought the whole thing for THIS.

youtube

My favorite song ON the album: “Downbound Train.”

my least favorite song: “Darlington County”.

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: “Dancing In The Dark”. I’m not alone in this. Miami Steve famously HATED the song at first, and only came to appreciate it after years of playing it live. I still remember never more eagerly anticipating an album in my life, and never being more upset by the advance single. I was devastated.

Here’s why. Born to Run came out when I was 15. “Gotta get out while we’re young!” The romance of escape, with the last two songs, still grandly romantic, hinting at its costs.

Darkness came out when I was 17. Narrator: “They did not escape.” LOL Ghosts, bitterness, compulsion, cursed by God. His estranged wife’s eyes “filed with hate for just being born”, while “Tonight I’ll be on that hill ‘cause I can’t stop.”

The closest thing to hope: a whispered “Tonight my baby and me are gonna ride to the sea / and wash these sins from our hands.” I was a senior in high school and the dream was already dead. Awesome. LOL

The River came out when I was 20. The only hope is domesticity. Too bad that it’s suffocating and you’ll fuck it up. LOL Want to wash the sins from your hands? Sorry, the river is dry. “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true / Or is it something worse./ that sends me down to the river?” Yikes!

The shows for this album were astounding. The album was soooo much darker than it first appeared, and the catharsis in the performance was rewarding, sure, but almost unbearable. You were left broken and crawling by the end of the night. In a good way. LOL

Nebraska came out when I was 22. Murder, mental illness, ghosts, more murder, compulsion, and as a treat, a little more murder. LOL

The one song I couldn’t stand was “Reason To Believe”, because I didn’t believe there was one, and I didn’t believe he did either. But boy did I love the album as a whole. Like I said, my grad school thesis started here, because I had too much to say about Nebraska and the sweep of Bruce’s literary roots and spiritual impulses NOT to write about it.

(Not shockingly in retrospect, and a blessing for us all that he went through with it and is still at it, but Bruce’s therapy started here too.)

So from 1975 to 1984, things got darker and darker and darker. It was beautiful. LOL And hey, this was MY LIFE we’re talking about, too! From 15 to 24, I was listening to Born To Run, Darkness, The River, and Nebraska practically on a loop, and the more hopeful stuff was becoming less and less resonant.

Sure, there was Rosalita and Thunder Road and Badlands, plenty of dancing and pumping fists, but I was dwelling in darkness, and living for it. On my best days, I was wounded, not even dead LOL but I barely listened to Born to Run by the end of this span. It was mostly Darkness and Nebraska.

I couldn’t wait to hear what was coming after the highest body count in recorded history on that album. LOL I knew it wouldn’t be acoustic again, but man, he was cutting closer and closer to the bone each time out. How much farther could he possibly go?

And it was....Dancing In The Dark? What the actual FUCK? Practically fucking disco or something? WHA....? I loved dance music, especially in the 80s, but I didn’t need it from Bruce. I had that from other people. Oh well, at least the b-side was cool, so maybe the album won’t bite. LOL BUT THEN PINK CADILLAC WASN’T ON THE ALBUM. FUCK.

The album didn't bite, of course, but it took a looooong time to get over this huge dual disappointment of a chirpy disco single by an artist I barely recognized, and whom I now felt I could no longer trust to manage his own creative mission.

My wife wrapped her head around it first (as is usually the case LOL). She dug it as the closest Bruce had yet come to putting his actual self in a song. The narrator is a writer, anyway, unlike every other song he’d ever written about jobs he never held for a single second (an observation that would form the bedrock of Springsteen on Broadway 40 years later).

Now, I totally dig it. If you’re naughty enough, I might even post my ukulele cover of Dancing In The Dark. LOL

a song I used to like, but now don’t: None. The songs I loved, which is most of ‘em honestly, I still do. Everything about this album has gotten better with time for me, and nothing about it has gotten less so.

my favorite lyric:

From “Shut Out The Light”: Oh mama mama mama come quick I've got the shakes and I'm gonna be sick Throw your arms around me in the cold dark night Hey now mama don't shut out the light

From “Downbound Train” The room was dark. Our bed was empty Then I heard that long whistle whine And I dropped to my knees, hung my head, and cried

Bruce was gonna try to give me a happier record, but I was having none of it. LOL

For the record, “Downbound Train” is my wife’s favorite track on the record by FAR, at least partly because it sounds like a band version of a song that could have followed Nebraska. I prefer Shut Out The Light because I heard the story of my own mental illness in it for the first time, but yeah, Downbound Train is amazing.

I only saw it live once at the time (in Newcastle, June 4, ‘85), but it really comes to live onstage -- true for all of Bruce of course, but this album more than any other imo.

youtube

overall rating out of 10: Then: 8. Now: 9.2. The shows were unbelievably good (we saw three shows in three different countries on that tour) and it sold a buttload, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that after the run of Darkness - The River - Nebraska, that this was a missed opportunity at best.

Time and distance heals all LOL and I now love it. Not more than the four before it, but more than anything since. A masterpiece, by any standard.

#bruce springsteen #born in the usa #shut out the light #dancing in the dark #nebraska #ask #essay #downbound train #darkness on the edge of town #Anonymous #youtube

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Out Tonight (Part 1)

Part 2 ->

Summary: Barba would never admit to being a RENT geek, but when he gets drunk and no one from the SVU squad is there to see him, he can’t resist the siren call of the karaoke stage. You would never approach a stranger at a bar, but when you hear Barba singing your favorite musical, you gather the courage to ask for a duet.

Rafael Barba x Female Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Dub-con!! Everyone is enthusiastically willing, but also super drunk. So... use your best judgement. (No smut this chapter just some intense kissing)

4,144 words

The thing about Scotch whisky is, it’s a drink meant to be sipped. A.D.A. Rafael Barba drank a Scotch every day, especially after a difficult case. One or two, mulled upon over the course of an hour.

At over 40 percent alcohol by volume, the practical difference between Scotch, the gentleman’s drink favored by lawyers and Wall Street executives, and the tequila swigged by rednecks ripping their shirts off at a dive bar is the speed at which the beverages are consumed.

The thing about being a Scotch drinker is, you’re only ever one particularly bad day and a few extra drams carelessly tipped down the hatch away from getting well and truly shitfaced.

This would never happen to A.D.A. Barba. He had complete control of himself at all times. In the courtroom. In his manner of dress. In his speech. He won cases other prosecutors wouldn’t dare to take on, because he was meticulous. He was relentless. And he never let his guard down.

But on this particular day, nothing was going according to plan. All week, in fact, a case he was certain of had been falling apart piece by piece, slipping through his fingers, until today, a man who made Barba’s stomach sicken walked out of the courtroom a free man.

It was his fault. He got cocky. The victims subjected themselves to retraumatization just to testify on the hope of getting some kind of justice, and it was all for nothing. He let them down. He let the SVU team down. The look on Benson’s face when the foreman delivered the not guilty verdict made Barba want to crawl inside himself.

So he did what he always did on bad days, and went to his favorite bar alone to sit quietly and numb his sorrows over a glass of Macallan.

Except it wasn’t fucking quiet. This was supposed to be a subdued, sophisticated establishment that didn’t draw a big crowd. This was his bar! But for some godawful reason, the new manager had decided—unbeknownst to Barba—to try hosting karaoke night.

Karaoke!

He scowled at the colored stage lights. Glowered at the rambunctious crowds of young people. Seethed at the bad 80’s music and off-key bellowing. He dropped heavily into his usual seat at the bar and exchanged withering looks with the bartender, who slid him his usual drink without needing to be asked. What the hell was happening to his life? Barba began to wonder whether he had anything under control at all, downing the dram in one shot.

As he gasped on the fiery liquid burning down his throat, he gained determination. They were not going to take his bar from him. Not a chance. If these tourists and college kids wanted to have their revelry, they would have to do it with a grumpy old killjoy glowering at them. He ordered another round.

***

An hour and a steep tab later, and Barba was gripping the microphone with sweaty fingers, belting out One Song Glory at the top of his lungs.

He rationalized it as “better bend than break,” but the truth was, he had dreamed of becoming an actor before going to law school to please his mother. His inner theater geek was always waiting to slip out whenever he let his guard down, but since that was never, it was side he rarely indulged. Tonight, his head was spinning, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“One song to redeem this empty life. Time flies—and then no need to endure anymore!”

The wooden bar stool creaked as his weight sank back down on it, and he ordered another drink to question about his life choices. “Will I ever be remembered for anything besides my failures?” he asked the glass. He’d come this far from the poor barrio where he grew up, but every step was a fight. He couldn’t just be good, he had to be better than the privileged WASPs he was competing against. He had to be the best. Every little mistake, every lost trial, could be the end of all he had worked for.

Barba was so busy nursing his latest drink, he almost didn’t notice someone else drunkenly belting a track from RENT. Except, as his head swung up to listen, it wasn’t drunken belting at all. A woman with a low-cut blouse and tight jeans that hugged her curves was singing so seductively, staring right at him. She winked and sweetly begged him to take her out tonight.

No—he was imagining it. He was just drunk, lonely, and pathetic. She was working the crowd, making everyone feel like she was singing just to them. Maybe she was a Broadway performer to have that skill, or at least a master at flirtation. Either way, she was way out of his league. There was no chance she had singled him out.

***

So what if you didn’t know anybody, and it was dangerous to go alone? You were in Manhattan on a Friday night—you were going to go out and have a good time, dammit!

The promise of karaoke drew you into a small but packed bar, and you were a few drinks in when you heard a voice like an angel and a rock-star had a baby singing a song from your favorite musical ever. The voice belonged to a singer wearing old-man suspenders, a pink tie, and a light coating of stubble from not having shaved since morning. He was fashionable, you guessed. Dapper. But it was that expressive voice that mesmerized you. As he sang, your gut was wrenched with the emotional pain woven through each note.

You were smitten. You tried to go talk to him, but the moment the song was over he vanished into the tightly-packed crowd. It was silly. It was far too bold to approach a stranger in the big city, but the warm tipsy feeling in your gut gave you confidence to hatch a plan.

Step one: Locate him from the stage.

Step two: Impress him.

Step three: Bond over mutual love for RENT.

Step four, if you managed to get that far, was a bunch of squiggly question marks and “kiss his face?” hastily scrawled in pencil. It was a long shot, you knew that. You were way too shy, and he was far too handsome not to have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or a husband. Frankly, even if he were single, he was way out of your league. But still, the nebulous step four could simply be “Have a fun night with your new karaoke buddy,” and that possibility alone made you feel like glitter was exploding inside of you.

When it was your turn to sing, you found him from your elevated vantage—he was sitting far from the stage, at the end of the bar—and tried to catch his eye. You’d been using Out Tonight as your karaoke icebreaker for years, so you’d gotten good at playing up the sexiness, tossing your hair and biting your lip. Your clumsy ass had even picked up a few dance moves to spice it up, and you gave them your booty-shaking all when you saw him look up at you.

You were glad you’d worn the jeans that made your butt look fantastic, and your sexiest, strappiest sandals (which were actually Tevas with a two-inch wedge heel, purchased from an outdoor gear store). He was watching you with fascination as you pouted the lyric, “don’t forsake me,” at him.

It sent a shiver down your spine to think he might really be looking at you that way.

The moment you got off the stage, you were bombarded by guys offering to buy you a drink, asking for your number. It was discouraging that Sexy Suspenders was not among them. Apparently your sexy routine worked, but entirely missed its intended target. Then again, a man like that probably let women come to him.

Ducking and weaving past your suitors like they were physical obstacles and not people, you reached Suspenders. The bar stool next to him was open, held by a briefcase and folded suit jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his hair was a little mussed. He appeared to be deep in conversation with his empty glass. You took a step forward to approach him, but an anxious constriction in your chest froze you in place.

Who do you think you are?! A gorgeous, sharp-dressed city guy will never even give you the time of day! Your mother’s nagging voice chimed in to warn you not to talk to strange men in bars when you’re out alone, in New York City, no less. You grimaced at your awesome double-dose of anxiety. He would either laugh in your face, or you were about to get murdered. Hooray!

But there was a loneliness in his demeanor that encouraged you he wouldn’t laugh, and up close, you noticed he was so short you could probably pick him up like a little baby chipmunk if things got out of hand. Ignoring how thick his forearms were, of course. But if he crushed you with those, you would die happy.

***

The next singer on stage had started screeching a rendition of Don’t Stop Believin’ with ten drunk buddies, and Barba was squeezing his eyes closed to try to drown them out, so he was caught completely unaware when a tap on his shoulder startled him.

“Is this seat taken?”

His vision blurred. He had to rub his eyes and look twice to be sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. “Mimi!” he blurted. “From the—nice, um—no. No one’s sitting here.”

He moved his belongings to the top of the bar, and you sat on the vacated stool, quite pleased with yourself. The bartender immediately handed you a pink icy cocktail with a slice of lime, and pointed his thumb to someone at the other end of the bar who paid for it. Barba followed his gesture to a very cute guy in his twenties and felt a twinge of double-edged jealousy that the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was most likely about to get up and leave him, and that the drink hadn’t been for him, because frankly, he couldn’t blame you. You did get up, but only to crane your neck to find your benefactor. When you did, you gave the world’s dorkiest thumbs up, while conspicuously putting your hand on Barba’s shoulder.

Barba’s lips spread into a smug bastard what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it smirk as he stared down his attractive rival. His head cocked to the side pleasantly. The other man’s flirtatious gaze fell into an annoyed tick. You sighed with relief as he moved away.

Turning back to Barba, you realized your hand was still on his shoulder and quickly removed it. You inhaled and said, “I heard you singing you were amazing do you want to do a duet together? Can we? I love RENT! I’ve always wanted to do Light My Candle—can we do it together?” in one breath.

Your flurried gush of words nearly knocked him off his stool—he put his hands up defensively and sat wide-eyed, nodding slowly as you went full babbling-nerd on him. You may not have been as suave as he initially thought, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It was disarming, and your enthusiasm was infectious.

Because his instinct to distance himself from anyone he might risk forming a real emotional connection with wasn’t working at the moment, he grabbed you by the shoulders, locked his piercing eyes with yours, and emphatically answered, “Yes. We must!”

***

Having a karaoke partner is essential for Broadway musical numbers, as most of them are duets—two or more characters interacting with each other as the plot of the show advances. Light My Candle was one of your favorite songs, and snagging the mysterious suspendered singer meant you could finally perform it outside your shower.

It was a bouncy back-and-forth duet that was fun to sing, but you forgot how aggressively flirtatious it was until you had to ask him—you hadn’t even asked his name yet—if you had the best ass below 14th street, and about wax dripping between your… um, fingers. But the way he looked at you made seducing him so natural. You just had no idea if it was part of the performance, or if it was real.

When the song was over, you bounced on your toes, clinging to his arm for balance as you tripped on the stairs down from the stage, squealing, “That was so much fun!” He put his hand around your waist to steady you. It felt like it was made to be there.

His face was flushed red and his eyes sparkled with exhilaration, and he quickly agreed to another duet, though he muttered, wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow, “Thank god no one from the precinct is here.”

Performing together with a partner always makes you feel a connection—even if it’s just drunken karaoke. When you sang one part of a harmony and he picked up the other part, your voices became two halves of a whole. And with musicals, it’s as much about acting as it is singing. He threw so much emotional intensity into the lyrics, which gave you something to respond to, throwing it back at him in fluid conversation as your voice soared above his and dove beneath it again.

You hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, and you had a feeling he hadn’t, either.

Not that you had any way of knowing, really. You guessed it by the ease in which he embodied Roger’s stubborn refusal to open his heart, by the mournful way he lifted his drinks to his lips like he was toasting at a funeral. His expensive leather briefcase and formal attire, too, suggested a well-paid but dreadfully boring line of work, like a financial manager.

Your guess was dead-on, in truth. Barba was vigilant against dating anyone he met professionally. Even if there had been a secretary or paralegal or two he’d had chemistry with, for the sake of his career, he could not afford to conduct himself in a manner that could raise even the hint of a scandal or ethical conflict in the workplace. And anyone he met outside of the workplace… well, he didn’t. His entire life revolved around his job.

The bartender had just brought a fresh round of drinks, and your head rested on your fist, elbow on the bar. Barba was staring deeply into your soul with those pretty green eyes, trying to figure out how he managed to get you and how he could keep you.

“We should do Another Day next,” you grinned.

“Who do you think you are, barging in on me and my guitar!” He sang in a gritty rock voice, poking at your chest accusingly while holding an air microphone with the other. You forgot to be surreptitious and blatantly checked for a wedding ring.

After Roger’s verse, you sang back Mimi’s part, seductively leaning in closer to him. “There’s only us. There’s only this...” As you leaned closer, his eyelids drooped, and his eyes darkened. “Forget regret, or life is yours to miss.” The smoky smooth molasses of Scotch was strong on his breath. He studied your face hazily, his eyes drawn down to the movement of your lips. There was no mistaking his attraction for a performance now. You sang softer and softer until your forehead was resting against his, your lips almost touching. Then you just breathed.

“No day but today,” he mulled the lyric and the impulsive circumstances that had led him to being with you in that moment. “I should follow that advice more often.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you murmured. “Here I am in the city, having fun,” your voice slowed to a crawl as your eyes flicked up and down his face, “...with a perfect, handsome stranger...”

His tongue ran over his lower lip again as his eyes dropped to your mouth and clouded over with some sultry thought.

You’re not sure which one of you moved first, but in the next moment his lips were melting into yours, desperate and passionate. That tempting tongue of his ran along your lower lip now, sliding easily inside as your mouth parted to invite him within, swirling in heated wet circles around yours. It was heavy with the taste of Scotch and the faint bitterness of coffee, as if that were all he’d eaten that day. You curled your fingers into his hair and deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and his broad arms closed around your back and pulled you off your bar stool onto his lap.

His skin was burning hot, and waves of heat coursed up through your body like you were both on fire. Your pulse thundered in your ears until it drowned out the off-key music, and each pounding heartbeat sent a corresponding throb to your cunt. Your eyes closed. All that existed was the messy clashing of your teeth and tongues, the woody-sweet scent of his cologne filling your lungs, the heat of his strong hands on your back, and the bulge of his cock twitching beneath you.

When you finally had to come up for air, and hopped back onto your own bar stool, suddenly self-conscious of how pornographic that nearly was, all he had to say was, “I’ve never done that before.”

You blinked. “You’ve never… kissed someone?”

“Not someone I just met in a bar!” his eyebrows shot up and he sounded so utterly scandalized, your euphoric high from kissing him came crashing down. He saw you as some kind of cheap tramp for kissing him. Pretentious asshole. Suddenly you felt like shit.

You turned your attention to the second round of that fruity cocktail that random guy paid for. It turned out to be a pretty tasty drink, so you ordered another. Maybe you should have given that guy a chance.

“So, are you here by yourself?” Barba asked your profile, not bothering to hide the patronizing concern in his tone.

“Yeah,” you said without looking up.

“Jesus. I thought so. That’s really dangerous, you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned and pivoted away from him further, leaving him confused. So first he implied you’re a slut, and now he was pulling the whole, the city is full of predators, but I’m a Nice Guy—let me walk you home routine. This is what you get for picking a guy based on how good he sings.

“I did not mean to imply that. I only meant that I’m usually more... careful.” Oh. You must have said all of that out loud. Oops. “But you’re right to be suspicious of my intentions. There are… all kinds”— he breathed the word out in a jaded huff—“of tactics predators will use. Manipulations, brute force, drugs, fake personas… And all they have to do is claim consent and half the time the jury believes it even if the physical evidence is horrifying.” He was getting visibly angry thinking about it, his drink dangerously close to spilling as he clenched his fist around it.

You stared at him. “Um.”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m an A.D.A. for Manhattan. Prosecutor. I’m a lawyer,” he clarified when the acronym earned no look of recognition in your eyes. “Lately I’ve been working with the Special Victims Unit, so when I see someone drinking alone late at night, talking to complete strangers,” he gestured at himself. “You have no idea how many sexual assault cases start with this exact scenario.”

“Big-shot lawyer, huh? Sure, now pull the other one.”

“What?” His head cocked at you in utter bewilderment.

“Pull the other… leg. You’re pulling my leg?”

“I know what it means, I’ve just never heard it said by anyone under sixty. Are you secretly an old man?”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re an old man,” you retorted childishly.

His lips folded in on themselves as he tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t know. What can you tell me about the Model T?”

You took a grumpy swig of the fruity strawberry cocktail.

“What was World War II like?”

“So are you really a lawyer, or do you just use that line to pick up chicks?”

“I am, I am!” he laughed. “I can prove it. Let’s see...” he pulled out his phone, brought up a search result for his name, and scrolled through headlines. “DA’s Office Helps NYPD Persecute Immigrant Families,” “Justice at Last for Serial Rapist Victims,” and others rolled across the screen. He narrowed his eyes as his index finger hovered over each one. “Oh, sounds like I’m an idiot in this one,” his mouth twitched into a sardonic smirk, “and I’m a real asshole here… Oh, look, here’s one where I’m the big hero.” He held out his phone so you could see the photo of him in another flashy suit and bold tie, speaking to crowd of reporters in front of the courtroom steps. He looked so sexy in his full three piece suit, and much more severe, his face hard and intelligent. The caption below it praised his victory putting away a notorious rapist, and identified him A.D.A. Rafael Barba.

“Wow. That is you. Who knew I was doing karaoke with such an important guy?” You slung your arm around his shoulders, which were irresponsibly broad and solid. God, being with him felt so right. Casual touches were so comfortable even though you’d just met, and the way he responded, melting under you, sent a wave of heat through your lower back.

He kept flipping through headlines, his brow quirking a little at one, eyes narrowing at the next. Then he saw one that made him stop scrolling. He put the phone down on the bar and scrubbed his hand over his face and hair, blinking back tears suddenly forming. You caught the glowing screen before it automatically locked. The headline was from today. “Local Teacher Found Not Guilty—.”

His head dropped into his arms on the bar. “It was my fault. If I had done something different, been more prepared...” A sad groan emitted from the Barba puddle.

“I’m sure you did everything you could,” you soothed, and rubbed his back sympathetically. “So one guy got acquitted. It happens every day.”

“I know,” he growled. This fact was the opposite of comforting.

“You’re sure he was guilty?”

“He did it. To at least a dozen kids over the last two decades, but no one wanted to testify, or the statute of limitations was up, and then our key witness… There must have been something I could have done, something I didn’t think of. I let him get away with it.” His shoulders heaved as he sobbed into his arms. “I fucked up.”

You kept rubbing circles over his back, whispering soothing words to him. You leaned down and peppered his head with soft kisses. He shifted off the top of the bar and began crying into your chest, his arms wrapping around you like a baby lemur. You held him tight, suddenly understanding that this was the memory he came here to drown. This was why all night you had caught him looking wistful every time the conversation lulled. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “It’s alright. Shh.”

His arms tightened around your waist, then relaxed, tension melting from his body. “This is nice,” he sighed into your shirt, enjoying being snugly pressed against you, surrounded by warmth. “Thank you… this is nice.” He never let anyone comfort him like this. Never let his need for comfort show under his stoic exterior. If his judgment were functioning properly, it would have struck him as a red flag how easily he sought comfort from a stranger that he wouldn’t have accepted from his closest friends, but it felt good to let it out.

Eventually, he remembered his dignity and sat up, drying his eyes on his sleeve and glancing regretfully at the wet splotch he’d made in your shirt.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. He picked up his latest glass of scotch, and swirled its half-empty amber contents before setting it down again. It was possible he had drunk enough.

“It’s OK. You had a bad day.”

His lips tightened at the corners in agreement. “Usually Liv is the only one who tries to cheer me up. So, thanks for…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head. “You’re very nice.”

Your chest fluttered. He was terribly cute, and far too vulnerable for you to be having these lascivious feelings about him.

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #ada rafael barba #Raúl Esparza #svu fic #female reader #my writing #Headcanoning Barba as good at singing naturally #and is a fan of RENT change my mind #emotional hurt/comfort #sorry about the dubcon everyone but sober Rafa would never sing in public XD

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hilli98215 · 3 years

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Dear Evan Hanson

*Warning: I will be talking about suicide and mental health. Read at your own discretion*

This musical came out when I was in a dark place in my life. There were a lot of changes going on and I was very lonely. Then this musical popped up on a Spotify playlist and was getting a lot of attention in the world of Broadway.

I had never heard a modern musical put how I was feeling into words. I knew what it felt like to be that nobody, be that person to wonder why no one would talk to me even though I was right there. Be so introverted and shy to not want to talk to anyone. It's scary.

The lyrics are like poetry and will always make me cry. But cry in a way that is lethargic and meaningful.

"Waving Through a Window" and "You will be Found" will never fail to make me cry because of how relatable they are. "Waving Through a Window" takes me back to when I was that kid who wanted so desperately for someone to see me. "You will be Found" brought me back to when a classmate of mine committed suicide and that there are people who care.

Dear Evan Hanson does a lot of things right which earned its Best Musical Tony win. Like I have mentioned earlier and in my live blogging, this musical does a fantastic job at depicting mental health and anxiety. Ben Platt as Evan Hanson does a fantastic job portraying a teenager with anxiety especially with his stuttering and mannerisms. He wrings his hands, he does what he can to comfort himself in social interactions. Evan so desperately wants to be part of a family and have what everyone else has. His dad is out of the picture and his mom is either working or at a class. They have a difficult relationship but his mom wants to be part of his life. So when we get to the 2nd act, we understand why his mom is angry.

Also, Ben Platt was perfect to originate this role. Ugh, he awesome.

The other characters I have talked about in my live blogging but I do understand their frustrations toward Evan. It's completely valid.

Music. The music is iconic. I have heard tons of covers of many of the songs and love love them.

My only wish is that the OBC had the reprises because it would make a lot more sense when listening.

The Topic of Mental Health and Suicide

I can't remember the last time there was a Musical that had a teenager as the main character where the topic of mental health and suicide was at the forefront. (Yes I know there are others that were created during this time). I wish this was out when I was in high school.

Why do I bring this up?

When I was in high school I knew someone who committed suicide. I was a sophomore and she was a senior. I talked to her most mornings as we were the outsiders in our school. I was also in the marching band. I heard about what happened at a marching band competition and was floored. I didn't think it was going to happen to someone I knew and spoke to. We dedicated the performance to her. According to my mom, I was really out of it and was kinda numb. All the school did was a memorial and dedicated a tree to her that stands in the courtyard.

When I was a sophomore in college a former classmate of mine got into a car crash. I considered him a friend and spoke to him a lot. I literally cried for days because I didn't want to forget these memories I had with him.

That's why these songs hit me so much. Just saying you matter is like a slap in the face but being told in a way that makes sense to you is what matters.

Overall thoughts: This musical deserves everything and all the awards it has been given. From best musical to best book of a musical to best actor in a musical. It's amazing! And it is a great way to bring up the topic of the mental health of teenagers without being forceful and demanding. We have a story that is sad yet realistic. The relationships between the characters are wonderful. And you want to be in this world.

Now, hopefully, the film adaptation is just as wonderful as the original stage version. Because I will be very irritated if it's not.

@hearth-goddess-99

#my final thoughts #tw mental health #tw suicide #dear evan hansen #musical theater #musical #modern muical #personal

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missnxthingg · 4 years

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𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 • 𝕠𝕟𝕖

SUMMARY: Tom has to move to New York when his father got a new job and he’s afraid of moving to a different place. (Y/N) is daughter of a world famous fashion stylist and big wealthy lawyer. What happens when this two keep meeting each other everywhere?

Based on my one-shot, Flawless.

PAIRING: Rich!Tom Holland x Rich!Reader (Best Friends to Lovers AU)

WORDS: 6.4K

WARNINGS: Swearing and vomiting.

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𝕠𝕟𝕖 • 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕣𝕜

New York is the city that never sleeps, at least that’s what they all say. Every single person that ever walked through its streets fell in love with them and the images stuck in their head like it was the most amazing time they ever had in their lives. That first step you take, breathing in the new air, you just feel like right there everything… works. Even though it had bad traffic, didn’t smell so nice and it was visually polluted. New York was magical somehow and it made everyone feel home even when they are so far away from their own. That’s how Tom felt like on the first time he stepped foot in New York. Renewed and ready to take what the city would throw at him.

When he first heard that he would be moving to a different country, he was fucking terrified. He was so used to London and his friends, changing it out of the nowhere would be really hard for him. He just started making some solid friendships and it was his senior year, he wasn’t ready to let go of the city. What if he got lonely? Or maybe they didn’t like him? He might be cool for a British kid, but maybe he wasn’t so cool as a New Yorker and people would laugh at him. Things for him were falling perfectly into place, he got a scholarship in one of the best schools in the city, his parents got an awesome apartment on the Upper East Side, but he still was afraid of change.

“You don’t have to go alone, you know that darling?” Nikki said to Tom when he admitted to his mother he was feeling afraid of moving. “The school you just got in has an exchange program and I’m sure the Osterfields would love to come along for a year until you and Harrison graduate. And even if he doesn’t come along, it will be such a great opportunity to you as an actor. Maybe if Harrison came along, it would be good for him too.”

And that’s the story of how Tom’s best friend came with him to America. But how he got there in the first place? Well, it’s very simple. Tom’s dad, Dominic, was a comedian and got offered to work in New York and had to move as quick as he could and he would be there for a long time. After a long conversation, the whole Holland family decided to move with him and they all had to manage their whole year again, including finding a place to support the whole family, a new job for Nikki and new schools for the kids. Luckily, the Hollands were a wealthy family, not extremely wealthy, but money never was a problem. Having their firstborn with a scholarship in one of the best schools in New York was huge for them.

The day they left England was the worst anxiety attack Tom had in his life, but all of the boy’s worries went away the first time he stood in the middle of the city, right in front of his building and took a good look, standing right next to his best mate, who rested an arm over his shoulders with a smile on his face, admiring the city just like the one standing next to him.

“We’re gonna take New York City, mate.” He said loud and proudly, making Tom chuckle at his words, shaking his head.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this together.” The boys smiled at each other and Harrison nodded. He would never admit it, but if Tom moved and they got separated, he wouldn’t know what to do. The two of them were attached to the hip ever since the first day of High School when they met. They were too much alike, the same dreams, similar personalities. It just made sense that they were both there.

“Maybe we’ll be on Broadway very soon.” Harrison arched his eyebrows and that made Tom laugh. Harrison’s smile died and he rolled his eyes. “Why are you laughing?”

“Easy there, mate. You’re dreaming too high.”

“This is a place to dream high.” Harrison winked and retreated to help the rest of the family move their stuff up to the apartment. He turned around before he entered the building carrying some bags and shouted. “Also, I have a good feeling about this place.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tom shouted back and curved his lips into a smile before turning back to the street full of cars before coming back to help his family.

It was a long day of moving, especially since they were doing two apartments in different neighbourhoods. They didn’t have much to organize at that moment, no furniture, only clothes. The full house would take a while until it was ready. For now, all that Tom had was a small mattress to sleep for the first nights and a bunch of bags holding pretty much all of his stuff. One thing was sure, he had only been there for a day, but he was already feeling good about it.

“The apartment is just…” Harrison swallowed hard as if he was trying to find the right words to say when he met Tom the next day for lunch. “Fucking amazing! And the girls… Ugh, they are fantastic. I already got one of their numbers, a tall brunette that lives two apartments above mine, so you know… when our parents are gone…” Harrison arched his eyebrows and Tom caught him midway. Harry rolled his eyes when he joined the boys at the table.

“You will never change.” Harry ran his fingers through his red hair and rolled his eyes. “I thought that maybe a new place would make you guys change somehow. I guess I was wrong.”

“Harry, if there’s one thing that won’t ever change is our love for women.” Tom said frowning a little and Sam joined their conversation.

“Or the lack of love for them.” The brother that just arrived said, making Harrison laugh.

“Yeah, we don’t like relationships. So what?” He shrugged and leaned into the table. “Also it’s a brand new town that doesn’t know our reputation yet.”

Oh yes, Tom and Harrison’s reputation in their school back in London wasn’t the worst one. They were very funny and nice to everyone, but they were also known to be the heartbreakers and to get all the girls they wanted running after them. It wasn’t like they treated them like a piece of garbage for sex and only sex, on contrary, they were the nicest boys in the world and that was what always got them to fall in love with the two. But New York didn’t know that yet and they weren’t planning on changing their reputation because they liked it. Harrison tried to be in a relationship once in the past year, but that didn’t last long. Tom never even liked a girl, at least not in that type of being head over heels about her, heart beating faster and that good feeling on his chest. To be honest, he didn’t even know how it was like to be in love and maybe that’s why he had the reputation to be with every girl. He was still out there trying to find that feeling, but he ended up enjoying playing the game much more than winning it.

“New unexplored girls just dying to meet us. If you want, you can join us, Harry. Since your twin twat is taken.” Tom said, receiving a punch from his younger brother.

“Don’t mention Elysia. I miss her so fucking much and I can’t believe I’m going to do long distance until I’m back.” He boy leaned his head over his hands and rubbed his eyes.

“Ditch her and then you won’t have to do long distance.” Harrison suggested and received a death glare.

“She’s gonna try some other schools for an exchange program since Constance Billard didn’t accept her.” Sam reminded the boys of what happened when he tried to get his girlfriend to come along once he got the news and how that didn’t work out. “And you’re not corrupting my twin brother, I won’t let you.”

“That way he’s gonna die a virgin.” Tom whispered with a hand on his mouth and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fucking virgin, I had sex wi… Why am I even telling you this? Fuck off.” Harry made the boys laugh at him, which pissed him off a little. “Can we change the subject?”

“You started it.” Tom did a weird face before burying his face on the menu.

“Shut up.”

(...)

The heels were killing the poor girl’s feet, but she stood strong by the stylist’s side while she gave the interview, displaying the most beautiful sleeve mesh black dress, designed by the woman herself, Josephine (Y/L/N), one of the most respected stylists of the world who happened to be her mother. She was trying not to look bored, but being quiet as if she didn’t exist and being blinded by camera flashes weren’t the most entertaining thing in the world. When it was finished, you couldn’t be more thankful.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was getting tired of those events after two full months in Paris working with her mother. She was tired of the red carpets, standing in heels, making small talk with people she didn’t know and were only talking to her because she was somehow important. Of course, all the glamour and the pretty dresses were fun, but in the end, it was all just empty and a momentary feeling of joy. So when she got back to New York, she couldn’t wait to just be in her nighties all day and catch up with her Netflix list, maybe visit her dad and have a drink with her friends at the club. But she had to cancel because her mother needed her to be with the whole team on an event.

“Is it over? Can I go?” She asked her mother, who was now drinking a glass of white wine with a fake smile for the cameras.

“No.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at her mother and crossed her arms, frowning at her. “Don’t frown, it causes wrinkles.”

“I was planning on visiting dad today.”

“Oh sweetie, he’s in Chicago for the week. Didn’t he tell you?” Josephine caressed her daughter’s left arm which made the girl snort.

“He never returned my calls.” She said a tone under her normal voice. “Can I at least go home and rest? My heels are killing me.”

“That’s the price you gotta pay to look good. Or do you think I’m comfortable in these?” Josie glanced down to her outfit, making her daughter follow her look. She was wearing the biggest baby blue fur coat, a dress and high heels that matched the colour. “I just got used to it. You should too.”

“Well, I’ll only stay if you let me go out with the girls after we’re done here.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the club.” Her mother chuckled and drank down her wine to make it go away.

“I already think you’re drinking was too much and you’re asking for my permission to go drink more in some club? Why don’t I give you the condoms so you’ll have the full liberal mom package?”

“Since when do you care?” The girl frowned and Josie fixed her position to hide her face from the photographers in front of them.

“I’m your fucking mother. I’ll always care. So if I’m saying that my underaged daughter won’t go out and drink, then she’s not.”

“You went to rehab for alcoholism last year and you’re still drinking wine.” (Y/N) pointed her index finger at her mother’s hand, who shrugged.

“Casually, only.” She cut the girl, who took a deep breath to not hit the woman in her face.

“I’ve been drinking since… forever with you. I’m not gonna stop now. At least I don’t have a fucking problem.”

“Okay. So I’m cutting you right now because you’re starting to stress me out and I need a cig.” She got the shinny golden cigarette case out of her purse, making her daughter lose it.

“That’s it, I’m done with your bullshit.” She rushed to the door without even saying goodbye to anyone and not carrying about the photographers around her.

“Where are you going?” Josephine shouted from far away, not even bothering to rush after her.

“I’m going home, mother.” The girl turned around and opened her arms to show defeat.

(Y/N) swam through the sea of photographers with difficulty, making her even more pissed off. The tears in her eyes weren’t helping her at all, only blinding her vision and making her more upset. When she finally got to step out of the building, she bumped right into a person passing on the street, a boy to be exact. He was slightly taller and he looked kind of pretty, but (Y/N) wasn’t in the mood to pay attention to that. He held her by the arms to prevent her from falling. He took a couple of seconds to look at her, but soon enough she freed herself from his arms.

“Sorry. Excuse me, I gotta go.” She didn’t look twice at him, just entered the limo parked next to them as fast as she could, leaving the boy paralyzed looking at the limousine driving away.

“Tom, are you okay?” Harry asked the boy who was still watching the limousine drive away. They just had their lunch and decided to take a walk around Manhattan to get to know it and they slowed their pace when they spotted an event full of photographers and a red carpet coming out of a building. Seconds later, Tom was run over by a girl in a black dress.

“Yeah.” He shook his head and looked to his twin brothers and his best friend.

“That was a really pretty girl.” Harrison said and Tom nodded, running his hand through his brown locks.

“She was crying though.” He frowned and started to walk again, followed by the other boys. “I wonder why she was crying.”

“It’s probably nothing.” One of the boys said, but Tom didn’t even bother to pay attention to which one of them was talking.

“Nobody cries for nothing.”

Tom didn’t know why but he found himself shook with what happened with him and he wasn’t sure why. He saw her crying face and somehow he got worried with that stranger, surrounded by luxury and photographers, wearing fancy clothes and still so sad. It was like some of her sadness was transferred to him when they touched. But come on, he didn’t even know her and he probably would never see her again, why was he feeling so strange like that?

“Welcome to New York, mate.”

(...)

Before the beginning of every school year, the twin schools, Constance Billard and St. Jude, always hosted an event to welcome the students back with lots of music, food and activities. The students loved it because it was a day to reunite with their friends and eat some junk food, even though it was considered a lame event. After all, they were too grown up to participate in their lame activities and the music was always bad. But it was a good way to make new friends if you’re new, like Tom and Harrison.

Being new in school was like you were magnetic and all eyes were on you. That was exactly what happened to the boys and they felt a little exposed when they arrived. Normal people would feel a little embarrassed, but Tom and Harrison were liking all the attention on them, especially from the girls. A lot of people came to talk to them and they were all different. Some guys from the basketball team came to talk to them, some other popular ones and not so nice too, and the girls who were already throwing themselves over them. They even heard some whispers from them trying to guess if they were indeed British.

“I have to admit it’s a little weird. But I’m loving it.” Harrison whispered in Tom’s ear when some people walked away from them.

“Me too. One of the girls even got her hands in my back pocket” Tom said excitedly, remembering the pretty girl and her boldness when she let her hand slip on his ass. He removed a small piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to Harrison. “It’s her number!”

“Nice.” Harrison licked his lips and looked around. “Are you feeling hungry?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Wanna get something to eat?” Tom nodded and Harrison looked around to find something good to eat. “I’m feeling nachos. What about you?”

“I think I’ll stick to the good old hot dog.”

“So we’ll meet in those stairs, okay?” Harrison pointed to some stairs on the school’s entrance and Tom nodded, waving goodbye to his friend.

The first day of the school year was always an event for (Y/N) and for every single person around her. It was very known as the day she searched for new people to be friends with. It started as an innocent thing in her sophomore year due to her lack of real friendships during her freshman year. She was feeling lonely and felt as if people only pretended to be her friend because she was rich and famous, but it didn’t work at all, remaining the same for the next year. On the junior year, she gave up on trying to find someone for a true friend and kind of made a competition out of the day, making some crazy shit happen, like two girls fist fighting for her friendship. So people were looking forward to this year’s first day. (Y/N), on the other hand, wasn’t.

She arrived alone and didn’t spend much time looking around for new people to not give them the false impression that she was looking for someone to be friends with. That was why she kept walking to the stairs in front of Constance Billard’s entrance, where she normally sat with her friends and waited. (Y/N) knew that eventually, people would start sitting around her to talk and it didn’t take long until two girls sit in front of her.

The first one, Courtney Bailey, was a very rich girl that could have much power herself being the daughter of a Wall Street stockbroker, but the lack of confidence made her weak and small, even though (Y/N) tried to build that up plenty of times during the past year but gave up once she realised the girl wasn’t interested in changing. She’s (Y/N) oldest friend since their fathers used to work together and Courtney was the one she would go to when she needed a girl to. The second one, Stacy Brummer, didn’t have the big potential to be a queen bee, all she wanted was status and to suck it all from someone without needing any work, but she was fun to be around, making (Y/N) remain friends with her because Stacy boosted her esteem, although she wasn’t trustable at all.

“Hey, girls. Good to see you.” (Y/N) said when the two girls sat in front of her.

“It’s good to see you too.” Stacy said with a smile on her face. “How was Paris?”

“Tiring.” She sighed remembering the two long months of hard work and having to up with her mother’s bullshit. “But it was good to finally be sure that I want law school as my future.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re such a fashionista! I always imagined you following your mother’s steps.” Courtney finally said and (Y/N) shrugged. They always thought she would turn out to be like her mother, but the truth was that she was tired of the fashion world and she wanted to prove the world that she was more than just a pretty face by following her father’s steps, all the way to Harvard’s Law School.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She sympathetically smiled at them. “What about your summer, girls?”

“I spent it on The Hamptons and it was amazing. So many pretty boys and I had so much fun playing with them.” Courtney remembered her summer and started to ramble on about it.

“That’s my girl.” (Y/N) winked and slightly touched the tip of Courtney’s nose with her finger. “And you, Stacy?”

“I went to Los Angeles with my boyfriend and his family. It was nice, except for the fact that after it I had to start calling him ex-boyfriend.” She shrugged and looked anywhere else. (Y/N) knew that she was just being dramatic.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just had to get away with him for a while to find out it wasn’t meant to be.” The girls nodded and waited for her to finish. “He’s a dick, so I don’t feel bad.”

“Oh, there’s Noel!” Courtney pointed at the boy approaching them.

Noel Kaim was one of the most popular guys in school and one of the richest as well. His father practically owned Wall Street and a good part of Brooklyn buildings. Also, he was part of the rugby team and any jock in St. Jude was automatically popular. To help out, he was very attractive, with his dark hair that always looked good and in place; light green eyes that were so deep and felt like they could penetrate your soul; and fancy clothes that were a big contribution to his appearance. Noel had a small thing for (Y/N) since they met and they always had something going on between them, always hooking up when they had the chance and everybody in school knew they had a thing, but it never got bigger than an affair for fun. He was a good company and a huge booster for her self-esteem, also a good listener and friend, maybe the one she liked the most. Still, she knew he only wanted her because of her good reputation and popularity, and to satisfy his needs.

“Hello, ladies.” He said with a small smile of his lips and looking at both the girls sitting a few step under (Y/N) until his eyes landed on her. “(Y/N).”

“Hi, Noel.” If she was being honest, (Y/N) was also getting tired and bored with Noel because it was starting to get clingy and it pissed her off. In his mind, she was her property and he was certain that they were more than just a fixed hook up. Ever since they last saw each other, the day before she left for Europe, she’s been on the dry and even though she would never admit it, she missed Noel.

“So, you’re back from Paris.” He ran his fingers through his hair and bite his bottom lips because he knew it would drive her insane, which worked.

“And you’re back from Brazil.” She fixed her hair and sighed.

“I thought you would have called me once you landed in America.”

“Well, Noel. The world does not turn around you. I was busy. Also, I was pissed because you didn’t even text me for the past two months.” (Y/N) smiled cynically and Noel got a little speechless.

“I was busy too.” He defended and she shrugged.

“I don’t care anymore. Anywho… I’m gonna get something to eat.” (Y/N) stood and bumped their shoulders as she passed by. He held her by the wrist making her turn back to face him.

“I’ll see you tonight? My parents are gone for the whole week.” He said keeping his voice low, so it would be a little more private, even though a lot of people were around to hear what they were saying.

“I’ll think about it.” She winked and walked away swaying her hips side to side because if Noel was playing a game to drive her crazy, so would she.

Leaving him on the cold was part of the game, and of course, she was dying for some hotdogs after long two months without eating real fast food and she was getting tired of all the croissants and fancy food, all she wanted was some dirty New York food and there was nothing better than food truck’s hotdogs. Her mom would probably have a heart attack if she saw her eating those, but she didn’t care.

She was much more comfortable on her own, eating that delicious hot dog and listening to the (bad) music on her own while searching for new faces around the students. She wasn’t looking for new friends anymore, but she couldn’t help if she was curious about what’s new around her. After a while, she came back to her friends and filled them up with new stories from her “vacations” in France.

Tom was also having a good time with Harrison and talking to some other people that were being very nice to him. He was exploring the new territory in the best way possible, making a lot of new friends, getting familiar with what was around him and laughing a lot during that.

“So are you enjoying New York?” One of the guys they were talking to, Tyrell, asked.

“Yes. I mean, we love London, but we are loving what we’ve seen so far.” Harrison replied before Tom even opened his mouth.

“Also, the babes are helping.” Tom smiled and winked at a girl passing by, making her blush and send a kiss his way. The guys around them laughed at his actions.

“You guys are really fun to hang with.”

“That’s a nice thing to hear.” Tom smiled and fixed his hair. “To be honest, I was very nervous about people not liking me.”

“That’s impossible, you guys are cool.” Another guy, maybe his name was Fran, said and they all agreed. “Also, you’re stealing the spotlight. Everyone’s got their eyes on you two.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Harrison asked and the guys nodded.

“That’s a fucking awesome thing around here. St. Jude’s and Constance Billard care too much about popularity and it’s not even officially the first day and yet, you guys managed to get all the eyes to you.”

Tom smirked and looked around the new environment that was going to be home for a whole year for him, and to be honest, it didn’t look bad. Both him and (Y/N) were having a good time with friends until they felt sick and the biggest urge to just throw up. Tom didn’t get the chance to go inside the school, throwing up in the nearest trash bin.

“Wow, Tommy, are you okay?” Harrison asked his friend who was now looking green as ever and could just faint right there. He shook his head, hand resting on his tummy and Harrison nodded. “I’m taking you to the nursery.”

(Y/N) got to the bathroom as quickly as she could and threw everything in the toilet. Luckily it was empty, so no one saw her thrown at the floor, reaching for her scrunchie to tie her hair in a bun. It all happened too quickly and she didn’t have time to even tell her friends what was going on. Courtney came over looking for her and found her destroyed on the floor.

“Oh, baby. Get up here and I’ll clean this makeup off your face and we’ll get you to the nursery.” She helped (Y/N) get up and lean against the bathroom sink, where she used makeup wipes from her purse to clean her face and a toothbrush from (Y/N)’s purse so she could clean her teeth. “C’mon, let’s get your ass to the nursery.”

The nursery was crowded that day and apparently, everyone that had hot dogs got food poisoning. Harrison was very worried about Tom and he dragged his best mate to the crowded room where the nurses were working their asses off to help everyone. One of them came to Tom and already knew what to do, get him away from Harrison to a separated room where he got an IV and was told to hold a bucket for if he felt sick again. When Courtney came with (Y/N), they did the same thing to her. When she finally got to take a good look around the room she was inserted, she knew that something fucked up happened.

(Y/N) never felt so vulnerable in front of a good part of the school, running for the bathroom to throw up, all makeup removed and feeling very ill. Everybody knew her as the power it girl that showed no weakness and there she was, holding a bucket in a room with at least ten people around her. Tom wasn’t feeling much better than her, a little embarrassed that he threw up on the first day of school in front of everyone. He didn’t even get to the bathroom to hide from the whole school, he had done just do it in front of everyone. But he knew he wasn’t alone judging by the faces around him. He took the opportunity to look at every single one of them individually, analyzing how bad they were until his eyes landed on her.

(Y/N) was sitting next to him, curled up in her seat, hidden behind a bucket, playing with the IV’s tubes and some small tears falling from her face, which she was trying to hide. And Tom recognized her, of course he would. She was the girl who bumped into him back in his first day in New York and was crying her eyes out. Her image was stuck in his head for weeks now and he was struggling to get it out. Why she was always crying?

“Hey, are you okay?” Tom asked keeping his voice low so nobody could hear what he was saying.

“I-I don’t think anyone here is okay.” She sobbed and cleaned some tears that were falling when she realised someone noticed it.

“I recognize you.” She furrowed her eyebrows when those words left his mouth. The boy talking to her was visibly new in school, but maybe he knew her from tabloids and the fashion world. “You’re the girl I bumped on the street a couple of weeks ago.” Her eyes widened and she started to remember the last time she bumped into someone. Her memory went back to that awful event where she ran away from her mother and bumped into a guy on the sidewalk. She didn’t remember much of his face since she didn’t see it at all, blinded by the tears.

“Uhm, I’m sorry about that.”

“Why are you always crying?” He asked softly and she tried to come up with an excuse but started to cry harder. She cleaned her throat and leaned back into her seat.

“I, uhm… Am feeling vulnerable right now. You’re new in school, but all eyes are on me all the time. And I’m wearing no makeup, I’m green as a pea and I’m crying because I don’t like to feel like this.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re only human, these things happen.” He tried to comfort her and she shrunk in her seat. Nobody around there was ever nice to her, considering they all acknowledge her reputation from the second they stepped into that school. “Why were you crying them?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.” She lowered her head and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. She wanted to talk to him though, because no one had ever been that nice to her, especially on the first time they met and something about him made her want to know more. “You know, no one ever asked me what was wrong before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He lowered his head and for the first time that day, she let a small smile form on her lips.

“I like it.” Tom’s eyes widened when she said that and he smiled give her some comfort. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Tom Holland.”

“You’re an exchange student, right? Maybe Australia or…”

“England. I just moved here from London.” (Y/N) nodded and moaned when she felt sick again, but she held it in. There was no way she would vomit in front of a bunch of people. Tom was thinking the same, especially while he was talking to the girl who stuck in his mind for days just by bumping into him in the middle of the street, and now she had a name.

“Welcome to New York, mate.” She winked, trying to force a British accent, which made Tom giggle. “Just be careful with the food trucks.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever eat a hot dog again.” He moaned and she truly laughed, feeling a little better to be having a conversation with someone that didn’t even know about her reputation and wasn’t going to talk to her because it was convenient.

“Well, that’s just not true.”

“You’re right, darling.” He smiled and closed his eyes to concentrate on not vomiting. “Uhm, I’m sorry that you’re sad. You shouldn’t be crying because you feel vulnerable. If there’s anything I can do to cheer you up…”

“Tom, you’re a nice guy.” She cut him and he nodded for her to continue. “But you’re new in school and you don’t want to be friends with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You seem pretty nice.”

“Well, I’m not.” She said in a serious tone and Tom started to feel bad because he felt as if something he said was wrong. “You’ll learn that people don’t like me very soon and I’m already anticipating it before you get disappointed.”

“(Y/N), I don’t care about what the others think. But I do care about what I think and I think you’re very cool.” She smiled again and nodded. “I guess the meds are starting to work. Do you feel better?”

“Kind of. I just want my bed and to be alone.” She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. People around them were too sick to care about their conversation and they were keeping their voice low to not bother anyone.

“Yeah, me too.” They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t that uncomfortable yet. They wanted to keep talking but were both insecure with what to say. Even though they had a nice moment together, they just met and sharing too much might not be the best idea.

“I was upset with someone that day.” She said once he wasn’t even looking, but it was a courageous step to keep talking to him. “Family is shit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips together and looked at her with a little bit of pity. “Family can suck sometimes, but I hope everything is alright now.”

“I don’t think it will ever be, but it’s okay.” She smiled weakly and nodded. “Let’s not talk about depressing things right now or I’ll start crying again. Also, you just met me and I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world to think I’m cool.” He laughed smoothly and nodded. “By the way, huge mistake.”

“I don’t think it is. But I guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.” He winked, making her blush harder than ever.

They had to stay there for a while in observation, so they kept talking about some small stuff. Where they were from, Tom’s first time in America, some school things and from all the people Tom met today, (Y/N) was the best, even though she didn’t have the best reputation around both of the schools, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew she was popular and slightly famous, but the reason why she was afraid of being vulnerable and a little lonely was still unknown.

Tom wanted to stick around and learn much more about her and he could swear it was so comfortable to be around her and just talk, it all just occurred to smoothly. Something about her attracted him, but not the kind of attraction he felt towards other girls, this was different but he didn’t know what it was. She was just… different. Actually, he couldn’t put a word to what she was.

On the other way, (Y/N) thought Tom was the nicest guy she’d ever met. For years guy only talked to her to get into her pants or maybe take some advantage of her. Tom just talked to her because he saw her crying. Although maybe he was trying to get in her pants, after all, she didn’t know him. But he didn’t give her that vibe and that’s why she was so comfortable around him.

By the time they got out of the nursery, Harrison had been waiting for his mate outside the whole time. He was really worried and didn’t know where else to go until he got out. (Y/N) found it very cute, but got a little sad that there was no one out there waiting worriedly for her. You can have all the money, power and popularity in the world, but they will never overpower real friendship and happiness.

“Uhm, thank you for distracting me.” (Y/N) said when Tom was done talking to his friend.

“Don’t need to thank me. You were a nice company.”

“I hope this school doesn’t give you the wrong impression of me. I’m definitely not what I show them.” She fixed her hair and pressed her lips together.

“So you should show yourself much more because I like the real you.” He truly made her smile with that. “If that’s what you gave me.”

“At least I tried to.” They both chuckled and fell into silence a couple of seconds later. They didn’t know how to say goodbye to each other. Maybe just a wave, or a hug… It was awkward. “I’ll see you around?”

“Of course, you won’t get rid of me very easily.” He winked and she leaned in for a small hug. He was caught by surprise but hugged her back.

“I’m sorry, I was too invasive.” She blushed and he shrugged.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” She gave him a small grin and Tom looked back at Harrison, waiting for him in the corner, to hide his blush. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“After class?” She squinted her eyes waiting for his response and he nodded. “Okay.”

“Cool.” Tom blush only grew bigger and he stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

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BOSTON BY CASEY AFFLECK

October 25, 2020 For the record, what follows is nostalgia, false memories, and generalizations. But it’s all true. I grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts, across the Charles River from Boston proper. Cambridge was one of the most diverse, multicultural cities in America. It was a beautiful, colorful, vibrant place. People from all over the world lived there, all mixed-up together. It is the place I was born and will return to, God willing. It is the city with the smells and sounds and tastes and people I love the most. Despite how much I loved it, when I look at old photos, I often look like this:

I’m in the front in the blue shirt. My best friend was Michael, the tall kid in the red shirt, whose family came from Barbados. Through the middle school years, anytime we weren’t in school we were roaming the streets like Dickensian urchins.

In the ‘90s, Cambridge got rid of rent control. Families who had lived there for four or five generations were squeezed out. Now the city is gentrified; but when I was growing up there, it was scrappy and beautiful. It was mostly working people, except for West Cambridge—where wealthy families lived, where professors lived. Where Cornel West, Yo-Yo Ma, and the Governor lived. East Cambridge was working-class Portuguese families, butcher shops, funeral parlors, and tow yards. Cambridgeport, where I lived, was mostly poor, Italian, Black, Greek, and Irish families. North Cambridge had some big housing projects and the school where my mom taught fifth grade—in a gigantic cement structure called The Tobin School that felt like it was far away because I would have to take a train AND a bus to get there. In reality, it’s like three miles from where we lived.

This is me hanging out in her classroom:

As people and places evolve, the past always reveals blemishes unseen at the time. However, Massachusetts manages, as time unfolds, to be a place that was so often on the right side. Not always, but often enough that I am proud to be from Cambridge, Massachusetts, no matter what.

From Massachusetts came the first national publication denouncing slavery, America’s “first feminist”, and The Cambridge Woman’s Suffrage League, which formed in 1886. My high school had the first girl to play tackle football in that division. Cambridge voted-in the first openly gay African-American mayor in our country. Right now our mayor is a very popular and forward-thinking Muslim woman who immigrated from Pakistan named Sumbul Siddiqui. We have marvels of architecture, science, and tech. It was in Cambridge that the very first email was ever sent (and received). And every year the Red Sox stand up to the wealthier bullies from the Bronx. These are all things we are immensely proud of, but nobody is resting on these laurels.

I am going to tell you about the places I remember fondly, whether they are still there or not.

Luckily, the city’s history isn’t going anywhere, and it hasn’t lost all of its charms. It is a place best seen by walking. So just walk. It’s also seasonal. Different activities for different seasons. But if you can hoof it for a few miles do this: start at the Old North Church and go by Paul Revere House, through Faneuil Hall, by The Old State House through Boston Common, through the Back Bay, go left and pass through Roxbury, another left, and go through South Boston till you hit the water and go left till you hit the Children’s Museum. Sit down and relax. If you just want a path, walk that. Map it or wander around. The city is full of little back streets with lots of character.

MY BOSTON FAVORITES

When looking for things to do and see in the area, you can ask ten people and get ten different answers. You will get a long list of historical buildings, or you will get names of some of the country’s prettiest parks, or you will get pointed toward the campuses of some of the very best schools in the world. But for every Bunker Hill, there are ten other places you haven’t heard of. So I am going to tell you about the places I remember fondly, whether they are still there or not. The thing about Boston is you can miss all the best stuff, and you will still leave thinking it is one of the best cities on Earth. Have fun.

Pinocchio Pizza, Harvard Square. I asked my son to describe it. He says, “the food is good but the vibe is fire, old school; whatever, just get a slice and sit on the ground. That’s why I like it.” I have no idea why he wants to sit on the ground, but I guess that’s part of the charm of the place. We’re both vegan so we both scrape the cheese off and eat bread and sauce. That should tell you something.

Oleana Restaurant on Hampshire Street in Cambridge. Chef Ana Sortun is a baller. The food is Turkish inspired, and it is delicious. Always. Friendly people, pretty inside, and it is in a nice residential neighborhood. My dad lived in an apartment a few blocks away behind a Store 24 until he was evicted back in 1989.

Maharaja, Harvard Square. Incredible Indian food. And it has one of the only third-story views of Harvard Square.

Veggie Galaxy is great diner food. It is vegan. It has breakfast, lunch, dinner, milkshakes and other deserts. All day and all night food that is filling and really good.

Life Alive Organic will serve you the healthiest and heartiest meal you can find anywhere. It’s across the street from City Hall, the post office, and the oldest YMCA in the country.

Cantab Lounge, where my dad was a bartender, and then a janitor when he was too drunk to be a bartender. I drank six thousand ginger ales, sitting in the corner at a sticky table while he worked. Forever it was a bar for postal workers that opened at 10 am, where alcoholics ate hard-boiled eggs from jars that had been sitting on the bar top for two weeks. A couple of days after initially writing this, I got an email from the owner. It is being sold after tens of thousands of years. I don’t know why I care because I don’t exactly have any fond memories from the place, but seeing the brick-and-mortar of your childhood torn down is a kind of mid-life, coming-of-age moment. Life is change.

Darwins Ltd coffee shop and attached mini-grocer and sandwich spot. If you get a coffee and then walk west two blocks on Mt. Auburn St. you will discover on your right a nice little park with a fountain to hang out. It is called Longfellow Park. Or you can look to your left and you will see the Charles River, and you can stroll there.

Fomu for dessert.

Zhu Pan Asian Cuisine and True Bistro for good vegan food.

Newbury Comics is famous and cool.

Million Year Picnic is for comic connoisseurs. They are both great. And they were both plagued by roving bands of middle school thieves in my day. The most notorious was named Mathew Maher. He is now a well-known theater actor on Broadway and appeared in the comic book movie Captain Marvel. But back then he stole shit.

Harvard Coop is the best place to browse for books. Especially the kids section. We spend hours there and nobody kicks us out.

After the game ended everyone would come out and buy sausages [from me] on their way home, then I would clean up and go into a bar outside the park, where my boss was drinking and I’d wait till he was done so I could get a ride home. I was 12 years old. A couple of years ago I threw out the first pitch. Life is change.

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is my favorite museum in town, maybe anywhere. It was once her home and it features an indoor garden that is perfect. It also has a great collection of art from around the world. Back on March 18, 1990, two famous paintings were stolen from the museum. As I remember it, a couple of guys showed up in the morning in police uniforms and the guard let them in. They tied the guard up and took a dozen paintings—Vermeer, Rembrandt, Degas—and vanished. The FBI never found them and never found the art. There are two plaques below two empty spaces on the walls to this day. On some days, classical musicians perform in random rooms while you walk around. You won’t want to leave.

Fenway Park. Greatest professional sports arena of any kind. I used to sell sausages in front of the Cask ‘N Flagon, a bar behind The Green Monster.

It is the best baseball bar in the country. When everyone was in the park watching the game, and there was nobody buying food, I would go in and find a seat and watch the game with whoever I was working with; I have seen hundreds of games from every part of the park. After the game ended everyone would come out and buy sausages on their way home, then I would clean up and go into a bar outside the park, where my boss was drinking and I’d wait till he was done so I could get a ride home. I was 12 years old. A couple of years ago I threw out the first pitch. Life is change.

Plimoth Plantation is a living museum in Plymouth, which is 40 minutes from Boston. It is amazing. The actors working there are some of the best I have seen anywhere. If you are even mildly interested in history you have to go there.

Fresh Pond is where you can go running or biking. Two and a half-mile loop.

Or you could hit The Emerald Necklace which is a great run that hits many of the best green areas, Franklin Park included. When we were young we would hop the fence and swim in the water. That isn’t done anymore ever, and everyone has grown up and leading better, more responsible lives.

John Weeks Footbridge is a very pretty, very old, brick walking bridge that spans the Charles River. Watching the Charles Regatta from here is awesome. That is in the Fall. But it’s also great any night.

The King School is a grade school not too far from there. It has maybe the best playground in the city. If you are there in the summer you can just walk on. When I was a kid, the King School is where a girl went who I was head over heels in love with. I finally got a shot at winning her heart in my early twenties and blew it.

Mount Auburn Cemetery is beautiful if you like that kind of thing. Lots of cool people are buried there, and the trees and stones are really nice. It’s a maze but just walk uphill. You will reach a monument with a great view of the city.

The American Repertory Theater puts on good plays. I grew up going there cause a friend of my mother’s directed many of the shows and could sneak us in the back. I wasn’t the adult making that decision; had I known better I would have scraped together the ticket price and supported the arts.

Boston Common is beautiful but you have to avoid all the shopping around it. If you have to shop go to:

NOMAD on Mass Ave in Cambridge is a store that you shouldn’t miss. In a world lost to chain stores and general homogenization of everything, Nomad is the real deal. Deb Colburn has been curating this place since I was ten. It is her store, and she has been trying to wake people up to folk art from around the world since Reagan was in office.

Bodega is a hidden high-end sneaker and casual wear store that must be entered through an unmarked door inside a bodega on a nearby side street. It’s cool how they have done it. Great presentation. Kids will like it.

KIDS ACTIVITIES

There are lots of things you can force your kids to do—things they won’t like the sound of at first, but will ultimately enjoy.

IMAGE CAPTIONS, LEFT TO RIGHT

On a rainy day, hop on the T and ride around town all day reading comics. Then stand outside in the warm rain (kids from LA don’t get this much).

Looking at murals. Cambridge has great murals everywhere. They are old and, incredibly, not vandalized. This one has been on this wall near the river since I was a kid. The child is mine and he is sick of walking around Cambridge.

If you feel like a pilgrim hit the gift shop at Plimoth Plantation.

Playing chess at Leavitt & Pierce Tobacco. You can inhale the scent of pipe tobacco without smoking it, and rent a chess set, clock, and table for $2 an hour in a beautiful old, wood-paneled shop with great ambiance.

Going to the oldest YMCA in the country.

Kayaking on the Charles River. You can get your kayak on Soldiers Field Rd. Take it east under all the bridges until you get to the inlet at Kendell Sq. It will all be clear. It will take about an hour.

Climbing the stairs at Harvard Football Stadium.

Reading books at the Harvard Coop.

NEARBY BOSTON

If you wanna go a little farther, go out to Gloucester for the day. Swim, eat, walk around, go back.

Whale watching sounds like a lame tourist trap but seeing whales up close will change the way you think about life on Earth.

You can take the ferry from Downtown Boston to Provincetown. It is a great place to visit or stay a few days while in town. Ptown is the eastern-most point on the continent. I might be making that up, but it’s close. It’s an arm that sticks out into the Atlantic. It’s really lovely there with a great vibe all around. You can’t have a bad time and everyone is super happy to be there. The beaches are all beautiful. Sharks mostly only eat the seals and won’t come any closer to shore than two feet—but if you want to see a great white up close, we can make that happen.

Cape Cod has some great flea markets. If you plan on spending time on vacation with your family you can find some essentials, like a medieval battle helmet, at the flea market.

SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS

30 minutes on the local train line from downtown. Made famous by the Salem witch trials; a fun place to visit and walk around for about 128 minutes. Newburyport and Rockport lines, which depart from Boston’s North Station, stop at the Salem station. You can go into the homes of people who lived during the witch hunt.

The House of the Seven Gables, made famous by American author Nathaniel Hawthorne‘s novel The House of the Seven Gables, is a 1668 colonial mansion in Salem, Massachusetts named for its gables. The house is now a non-profit museum, with an admission fee charged for tours, as well as an active settlement house with programs for children. It was built for Captain John Turner and stayed with the family for three generations.

The Jonathan Corwin House in Salem, Massachusetts, known as The Witch House, was the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin. It is the only structure still standing in Salem with direct ties to the Salem witch trials of 1692, thought to be built between 1620 and 1642. Corwin bought it in 1675 when he was 35, and he lived there for more than 40 years. The house remained in the Corwin family until the mid-19th century and is located in the McIntire Historic District.

A MECCA FOR ARTISTS

Lastly, for centuries, Cambridge has been a mecca for artists, especially writers. Here are some spots to see if you like that kind of thing:

The corner of JFK Street and 1390 Massachusetts Avenue. This is a good spot. Here is why: America’s FIRST PUBLISHED POET was a woman named Anne Bradstreet who died in 1672 and lived on this spot! It went through lots of changes, and 300 years later, by the time I was walking around, it became a great burger place called THE TASTY. In 1996 or whatever, The Tasty appears in the movie Good Will Hunting in the scene when Matt Damon kisses Minnie Driver. It might have also appeared in the film Love Story back in the 70s. I mix them up. Now it is a CVS. God help us.

The Longfellow House. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow lived at 105 Brattle Street. The great poet taught at Harvard and lived in the Georgian mansion from 1837 until his death in 1882. Before the author, George Washington used the house as his headquarters during the Siege of Boston. The house is open to the public, and it is where I had my eighth-grade graduation ceremony. The mayor attended and forgot the name of our school in his address to the kids. I heard people mutter that he was drunk. I can’t blame him. I had my first drinks hours before that ceremony.

71 Cherry Street, Cambridge. The woman considered to be American’s FIRST feminist, Margaret Fuller, was born and lived here.

Henry and Alice James lived at 20 Quincy Street. The house was knocked down in 1930 and the Harvard Faculty Club was erected there.

W.E.B. DuBois lived at 20 Flagg Street. The writer and pioneer of civil rights rented a room in this Cambridgeport home from 1890 to 1893. This is blocks from my childhood home. He was the first African American to receive a degree from Harvard.

Robert Frost lived at 35 Brewster Street. Frost, who attended high school in Lawrence, Massachusetts, lived in the West Cambridge home from 1943 to 1963.

T.S. Eliot lived at 16 Ash Street.

E.E. Cummings lived at 104 Irving Street. He was an innovator. He also wrote a poem about “Cambridge Women”. He lived at the Irving Street home from 1892 until about 1917.

Also you can find homes of the genius Nabokov and the great and beloved Julia Childs if you look around.

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