#ALSO BLESS YOU FOR BEING SO NICE EVEN IF WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS AND TASTES ANON

[stormyoceans]

personal taste is so crazy because the way i cannot for the life of me understand where y'all guys see pondphuwin's chemistry (pond just doesn't do it for me as an actor tbh he's so stiff in literally all the roles i've seen him play, for me it's like he's playing the same character over and over again) but i'm in love with greatinn old-friend's type of chemistry and the way the seem so comfortable around each other and the way they're selling the pining and longing and will they won't they vibe... all this to say i love how different people's views of the same things can be lol

it really is so fascinating to see how people can perceive things in different ways and have different taste!!!!! that's one of the most fun things about fandom to me actually, just going through everyone's thoughts and opinions and see how a character, or a pairing, or a scene can be experienced and interpreted in so many ways, and none of them are wrong!!!!! because we're all our own individuals with our own likes and dislikes that are true for us!!!!!!! (the problem is when people aren't nice about others' tastes, but that's a whole other point)

but yeah, it's so interesting because to me pondphuwin have a very natural and powerful chemistry, every time i watch them i can actually believe their characters are in love even just by the way they look at each other and are aware of the other's physical presence. and while i personally don't think pond is a bad actor, i do agree that he gets stuck way too much in very similar kind of roles, which is why i would LOVE to see him and phuwin swapping their usual character types!!!!!! LET POND BE THE LOUD NERD AND PHUWIN THE CHARMING POPULAR GUY!!!!!!!! (BUT ALSO PLEASE GET THEM OUT OF SCHOOL PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!)

im also wondering if familiarity plays a part in the way we perceive a pairing, because the 'old friends who are fully comfortable with each other' kind of chemistry you mentioned for greatinn is actually what i love about forcebook. and i did like forcebook right away, but for example i wasn't the biggest fan of joongdunk at the beginning, however getting to know them even outside their roles helped me a lot in appreciating them and the kind of playful chemistry they have, to the point that now they are the ones im most excited about to see in the heart killers, so maybe there are some pairs that just. grow on us with time and maybe greatinn is gonna be one of those for me!!!!!!

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hey! Love your work and was wondering if you could do one where the reader is a really good cook/baker!

A/N: Hey there! I'm so glad you like my work :D I really hope you enjoy this one too!

DARRY CURTIS

He swore he couldn’t love you any more than he already did but then you went and started cooking for the boys and Darry found out just how wrong he was

It’s so nice to have someone else who can cook and who Darry can trust alone in the kitchen, he knows you’re not gonna start a fire or something

You’re the one cooking dinner now most of the time, simply because the boys like eating your cooking the best

Darry will cook for you sometimes! Especially if you’ve had a bad week or it’s a big milestone in your relationship, blah blah blah, Darry has a thing for taking care of his partners, and that comes out in the form of food

King of hyping up your cooking, especially your chocolate cakes! You’re the only one that can bake a chocolate cake and get Darry to admit that yours tastes better than his cake does 

Also also also, he asks you to pack him lunches sometimes so that he can take it to work with him and just kind of have a little part of you there with him <3 I highly suggest dropping a little handwritten note into his lunchbox, but y’know, that’s just me talking

SODAPOP CURTIS

Don’t tell Darry, but he likes when you cook or bake for him more than when his brother does, Sodapop thinks it just tastes better

*Insert a joke about how Sodapop likes to claim it’s because you make your stuff with love and Darry doesn’t but we all know that’s nonsense*

I kid you not, Sodapop is a bottomless pit and not a picky eater by any stretch of the imagination, so if you need a taste-tester for some dish you’re trying out, look no further than your pretty boy

Show up to the DX with a packed lunch for the two of you, flirt and giggle before giving it to him, stay with him and eat together in the garage on the hood of some ridiculously Soc car that Steve was supposed to fix later in the day

Nothing says I love you more than sitting on a car and laughing during his lunch break, doing nothing but sitting there and just being together

Plus! Steve will get sort of grumpy and pouty because he wanted to have Sodapop with him for his lunch break but you got there before him and he can’t really be mad because you guys are just too cute but he’ll be funny to watch  

PONYBOY CURTIS

You’re into cooking? Baking? That’s cool, Ponyboy has no problem eating whatever you’re working on and loves to be in the kitchen with him

He’s a menace and likes to sit on the countertops or eat the food before it’s cooked, so maybe it’s not always the best idea to have him there with you, but, y’know, he’s cute so it’s way okay!

The two of you have definitely made a mess of Darry’s kitchen at some point, cookies gone wrong or a mini-flour food fight, so there’s a high chance that you’ve gotten Ponyboy banned from the kitchen

If you bring anything treat-wise for him to school, expect the boys to try and steal some of it, especially Two-Bit, that boy will literally steal anything he can

Hype Man pt. 2, Pony talks about your cooking so much that Darry has probably asked you to just come over and cook dinner one day so that Pony will stop telling him about how you’d cook everything differently

Also, strong opinion that he only knows how to cook very simple meals, scrambled eggs and grilled cheeses and things, and is seriously impressed by when you make things that are like even a fraction of a bit of something better than those

DALLAS WINSTON

If your folks are out and you’re planning on cooking? Please oh please, call up Dally and let him in so he can eat whatever you’re making

He’s not helpful, he eats your food and then doesn’t help with the dishes, I wouldn’t recommend him as a sous chef at all

But! He’s honest and will tell you exactly how he feels about what you’re cooking, which can be a blessing and a curse, just as things usually are with our dear Mr. Winston

If Dally doesn’t like something, he’s gonna bitch about it, but if he likes it, god he’s gonna compliment you and compliment you and compliment you and kiss you so many times as a thank you

No one else is allowed to touch anything you make for him, he threatens to and has bitten and snapped at people who get too close to his plates before, I’m not even lying to you

Also, don’t let him cook because Dally’ll probably end up burning something, solid headcanon that he can barely cook, and he’ll probably end up blaming you for whatever he’s messed up!  

JOHNNY CADE

Hard one, I don’t know exactly how I feel about Johnny with an S/O who’d bake or cook all the time, but I know he’d like it!

You’d probably make an extra lunch for him every so often (every other day or so because you know you love him) and the two of you would eat your lunches together at school

Johnny likes everything you make, he’ll tell you how great everything is and shower you with praise and compliments as he shovels food like he’s some sort of chipmunk

I don’t think he’s picky either? Like, I don’t think he cares very much about picking and choosing when it comes to food, he’d rather just put it in his mouth and go on with his life

But I think Johnny has a favorite thing that you make, I don’t know what exactly, but it’s gonna be something sweet, maybe cookies or brownies

He’s a horrendous cook, okay? Recipe or not, he absolutely sucks and it’s terrible having him in the kitchen with you but he likes to stand with you so I think you should just let him hang out as long as he promises not to touch anything- 

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

You’re helping him babysit his sister? And you’re making dinner? For both of them? And you’re having the time of your life in the kitchen?

Two-Bit thought he was in love with you already, jeez louise, he’s so gone for you and is about to have a meltdown because you’re just standing in his kitchen making dinner for everyone 

He tries to kiss you and almost burns himself on the stove because he’s too busy staring at you he doesn’t realize where he placed his hand and then you’ve got to take a break from cooking to take care of him

Two really does like what you cook though! He’s not picky and he’s open to whatever you want to feed him, I promise! 

Come up to him with a spoonful of mystery and tell him to open his mouth and swallow, Two-Bit will do it immediately, no questions asked whatsoever

He’s a good guy, alright, and he’s got simple thoughts, he just really likes seeing you when you’re cooking, when you’re in your element and I think he’d be a really great pal to have in the grocery store 

STEVE RANDLE

Have I mentioned? That Steve? Is a cheerleader? And likes to hype you up? Because that’s running around and around in my mind

For the love of everything, you better have a chocolate cake recipe memorized because that’s what Steve’s always going to ask you to make, he can’t get enough of your chocolate cakes

You’re gonna have to persuade him to eat anything else, honestly, he’s just so in love with you and the cake, it’s gonna be a challenge 

If you don’t let him in the kitchen with you, Steve’s just gonna whine and pout until you eventually cave and let him in from where he’s been throwing a fit in the doorway

He’s good though, he knows when to keep his hands off, especially when he’s coming from work and covered in grease, he honestly really doesn’t want to help with the cooking anyway

Steve would much rather just watch you and talk, laughing about your days and just be there with you while you cook and bake your little heart out  

TIM SHEPARD

He’s picky with food I have a feeling? Like Tim likes what he likes and that’s what he’s gonna eat, y’know?

Bowl of cereal in the morning, a burger when he goes out to the diner, Tim’s not really into the whole trying-new-things but I have a feeling, if you tried hard enough, you could convince him to try something a little new

Present it to him and smile, bat your eyelashes, say your pretty pleases and beg just a little bit and there’s nothing Tim can do but say yes <3

He’s a good person to cook with! I think he knows what he’s doing enough and likes to cook, so I think it could totally be a bonding thing for you!

The moment you cook dinner for Angela and Curly, Tim knows he’s not gonna let you go anywhere because if you love him to care for his siblings as well, Tim knows you’re definitely a keeper

He likes to come up behind you when you’re cooking and hug you, murmuring into your ear as you throw things together, some compliments and some teasing remarks, but they’re all said with such love it makes things totally cool-

CURLY SHEPARD

This little shit, Curly is head over heels even before you tell him that you like to cook/bake, he’s gonna be long gone when he learns about that

He thinks it’s great, absolutely loves it and absolutely loves you, and wants to hear about everything you’ve ever made

You need a taste tester? Someone to go grocery shopping with you? Someone to talk with while you cook?

Don’t you even worry, baby, Curly is more than happy to spend all day in the kitchen with you while he does no cooking whatsoever, just hangs with you

And, so uh, y’know how cookies and brownies and stuff have that sort of window where you just sort of put them in the oven and wait? Yeah, Curly likes to take advantage of that time period and kiss you senseless

Tell me I’m wrong, you can’t because you know that this boy will take any chance he can get to make out with you, regardless if he runs the risk of burning those cookies to a crisp or not-

[allylikethecat]

just wanted to say how much i appreciate the grace with which you address both your writing and its fans

truly blessed to have you in the fandom

Oh my gosh way to make me cry! This might just be one of the nicest messages I've ever received! Thank you so much, I'm so completely and absolutely blown away by the fact that there are even "fans" of my writing (I like to think that it's more like we're friends that haven't formally met yet), and am just so grateful for anyone who takes time out of their day, and out of the hundreds of thousands of fanworks out there decides to click on one of mine, and then some of y'all even like it enough to leave a comment or send me an ask on Tumblr? Absolutely incredible! I know I got a little down on myself earlier this week, and the amount of sheer kindness that I was met with was so amazing and made me really happy to have found a little niche community to be a part of.

Fandom is my happy place away from the stress and pressure of being an adult in the real world, and I'm just so happy, overjoyed really, to have found our little group that enjoys the same kind of content as myself and where we can build one another up. I really enjoy writing, and even if I wasn't sharing it on the internet, would continue to do so because it's something that brings me joy, but the fact that I can also share it with y'all? And then get nice messages like this? I'M the one that's blessed to have found you lovely people. Even if I enjoy writing / reading about angst and suffering, my ultimate goal is to bring joy to people and spread some kindness- there is so much negativity IRL, online and even in these fandom spaces. I might have lost my way a little bit with the self doubt, but negativity is not my vibe and I just want to keep the good ~feels~ going!

At the end of the day, we're all here to have a good time and while opinions and tastes may differ, we are all just looking to share in something we enjoy (fandom!) and I am so happy to be apart of it! So thank YOU for blessing ME by reading my fics and sending this ask- it really made me smile.

❤️Ally

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[keyofjetwolf]

Oh boo-hoo, darkness, get over yourself, or, Rei Hino: Comfort Lesbian

We’ve been building to this for the past several episodes now, this moment where we finally get confirmation of all the turmoil Ami is feeling, about Usagi and about Naru and, especially, about herself. All of which is delicious and complex and everything I wanted but could hardly believe they’d give us. It’s not a good look for Ami! It’s angry and lonely and uncertain!

Ami especially, I think moreso than any other character across Sailor Moon iterations (character who actually gets screen/page time, anyway) is boiled until she’s lost most of her flavour. I think the anime tries hardest, but often replaces “the smart one” stereotypes for “the nice one” and calls it a day. For whatever reason, it’s like Ami’s an action figure they’re afraid to take out of the box because they might get her dirty and diminish her value.

Not PGSM, though. PGSM is just “AW YEAH LET’S PLAY” and pitched everyone in a mud puddle.

I AM ALIVE

I’ve talked about this again and again, how much SENSE this makes for Ami. Completely ostracized for her entire life, she’s got her first taste of what it means to not be alone, and she’s hooked. Usagi is like a drug for Ami, she’s the entire focal point for everything positive Ami’s feeling, and she’s terrified that without Usagi, she’ll go back to the way things used to be, and she CAN’T, she just can’t.

And she needn’t be! PGSM has gone out of its way throughout the series so far in showing us how much Ami has already grown and changed for the better. Fuck, look at just this scene! There’s something wonderful and precious about the bond between Ami and Rei. They’re each other’s first friend that they made THEMSELVES, using the things that they learned through their friendship with Usagi. Ami has reached out to Rei more than once, able to see through her stoicism and bluster and navigate through it (versus, say, Usagi just flat out ignoring it). She allows Rei to keep those defenses while still reaching for her, making Rei that much more willing to reach back.

Rei also sees Ami. She’s never been smitten a day in her life, and Rei isn’t inclined to throw every little questionable thing into the spin cycle until it comes out gleaming and perfect. Ami’s weird and awkward, but so what? She’s a good person, and she tries. Every single time Rei would rather deal with someone who tries too hard rather than not enough.

They can do this. AMI can do this. She HAS. Even in this scene, where she’s confessing to Rei, it’s abundantly clear how much stock she puts in Rei’s opinion. Particularly BECAUSE it’s Rei (really, it had to be Rei), who wouldn’t even know where to start trying to give someone an insincere platitude, Ami trusts what she says, and at no point in any of this, even at her lowest and most intense self-hating, does Ami think Rei isn’t her friend. The problem is that Ami has pinned so much on Usagi, and so little on herself. Usagi is the keystone; pull her out, and it all collapses.

Again, all of my love to PGSM for going here. For looking at Ami, really thinking about how broken her life would have made her, and being willing to follow that thread. She confirmed -- directly, in the text, by her own words -- everything I hoped we were building to.

INCLUDING THIS SORRY BRB HAVE TO RUN AROUND THE OFFICE SCREAMING AGAIN

There’s so much going on, Ami is having a fuck of a day, but this is perhaps the thing she’s most upset about: the realization that she might just be kind of a shitty person. There’s been nothing in Ami’s life that would have even hinted she could be like this. Hell, there’s basically BEEN nothing in Ami’s life before now. But here it is, she finally gets something worthwhile, and this is how she acts? No wonder she went without friends this long, if this is who she is. Usagi was just wonderful enough to try and see past it, that’s all, which only makes Ami feel even worse for “deceiving her”. God, what a beautiful inescapable spiral Ami’s built for herself, I’m almost impressed.

REI HINO IS NOT IMPRESSED

HHHHRNRNNNRRNGGGHHHGNNNNGHHHRR

SHE’S SO NOT HERE FOR ANY OF AMI’S BULLSHIT. Not the deep dark confession, not Ami eating herself up over it all. Ami’s barely started, and Rei’s already had enough.

Sidebar to say how much I fucking LOVE how they shoot all this. Rei’s angry stomp slicing across the camera, interrupting Ami’s efforts to drown herself in all this. Her angry clenched fist (A REI HINO FAVOURITE), the way the camera rises as it follow’s Rei’s towering presence. She carries so much authority in this scene, you can FEEL her and how little she is going to put up with all this. The way Ami gazes up at her, too, once again giving Rei all the power between them. It remains to be seen how much of this will stick, but what’s clear is that Ami will listen to Rei, and believe her, even if just for this moment.

The way Rei completely brushes all of Ami’s angst away though, AAAAAHHHHH I DIDN’T KNOW I COULD LOVE HER MORE BUT SHE ALWAYS MANAGES TO FIND A WAY TO MAKE ME. Ami’s completely undone by this, and Rei’s just “Psshh, whatever, this is entry level ‘dark’, get over yourself.”

But she also makes it an invitation. “Congrats! You’re human.” Ami’s sin here, if she could be said to have one, is in not dealing with it all very well, and she’s basically an emotional newborn, so even there, it’s understandable.

One of the best things about this, though, is how Rei is meeting Ami on much the same level Ami connected with Rei. Not ignoring how they feel, nor dismissing it, just accepting it and moving forward. We STILL don’t know why Rei was so bothered about going to that guy’s house to protect his not-the-ginzuishou, but Ami didn’t chase down the why or convince Rei it wasn’t a problem, she simply offered to go in her stead. Here, Rei doesn’t insist Ami is the purest pure snowflake gumdrop who would never think a bad thought in her life, she just says “Bitch, you ain’t special.” Usagi’s all-inclusive love is wonderful, and I don’t doubt the power of its constant dopamine hit, but it’s also in so many ways unrealistic and impractical (much like Usagi herself), and once again, I tip my hat to PGSM for being the ONLY Sailor Moon incarnation willing to go there for its main character, too.

(I don’t know if PGSM had a mission statement, but you could tell me it was “Each and every one of these girls is fascinating and wonderful AND DEEPLY FLAWED” and I would just nod in emphatic agreement.)

What about Rei’s darkness? I don’t know! THANK YOU FOR ADDING IN A BARELY RELATED MYSTERY. The specifics aren’t important right now, and maybe never will be. It’s Rei, she’s a constant bubbling cauldron of stewing rage, even here in PGSM where she’s able to keep it to a low simmer. It could be about her mother’s death, all the gossipy assholes, her father’s everything. It could be Usagi bumping into her this morning, IT COULD BE ALL OF THESE.

The point is, Rei knows all about thinking and feeling some negative shit at someone, but she also knows there’s a difference between what you feel and what you DO. You can’t truly be part of life and never fuck up, it’s just not possible.

AND NOW HERE’S WHERE REI SHOWS HOW MUCH SHE’S CHANGING TOO. Her point made, her lecture done, Rei peers down at Ami and sees that it’s just not working the way she wants. Rather than lose her temper, or double down, or wash her hands and walk away, she instead CHANGES TACTICS.

She doesn’t demand Ami immediately bounce to her feet, instead she drops down to Ami. She stops lecturing and tries comforting. NONE of this is natural for Rei, all of it goes against the kind of person she is and always strives to be. Slowly but surely though, Rei’s learning that her way is not the only way, and to temper her impulses.

WHO KNEW WE WOULD GET SUCH JUICY DEVELOPMENT FOR REI IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THIS AMI GOODNESS WHO AMONG US COULD HAVE PREPARED FOR THE BOUNTY

Still though, Rei is Rei is my beautiful ridiculous marmoset Rei.

Blessed, friends. I am blessed this day.

[no-psi-nan]

@disgruntledtwig tagged me in this fanfic meme and I'm taking a break so I'll fill it out under the cut!

(Thank you for the kind comments btw 🥺🥺)

Link to my post-canon Saiki K fics: CardiacCrisis on AO3

1) Out of all your works, which story would be your favorite?

Well, if we talk Saiki K, it's going to be Extra Love Stories Volume 2 because I'm having a blast writing it, even if not much has actually gotten posted yet. 😂

For my other fandoms, it has to be "GC249 - Cross Cultural Communication", a yugioh college AU fic. It was sweet and fun to write, and I got a lot of nice feedback for it. (:

2) What’s the easiest genre to write for, in your opinion?

Romance for sure! Might just be due to having more practice though. 🤔

My stuff has always had some comedy in it, but this is the first time that I've written strictly gen comedy actually. 😂

3) What is your opinion on self-insert fics? (Reader x Character)

Not my thing. I'm not personally interested in romancing any of these fictional characters. I'm interested in how they would get along with other characters.

Also, no one would be able to write me in character lmao. Perhaps if my besties workshopped something XD XD

4) How do you get inspiration to write?

I don't go looking for writing inspo usually. If I'm not driven to tell a story, I'll find something else to do lol.

5) Do you ever suffer Writer’s Block? How often?

If I'm having trouble writing something, it's typically because I haven't thought it through yet. I usually leave it until it's ready or work on something else for a bit.

6) Which fandom is your favorite to write for?

Whatever I'm brainrotting on at the moment. So currently Saiki K!

7) How long are your chapters, usually?

Generally around 3k but often scope-creep sets in and they can end up being 7k+. ����

8) What is your most favorite genre to write?

Also romance and comedy.

Actually I guess I should mention supernatural as a genre. 🤔 I like the flexibility and challenges of magic (and magic-adjacent things like ESP).

9) Do you write only for one fandom, or for many?

So far I've written for Yu-Gi-Oh!, Good Omens, and Saiki K.

10) Do you take requests? Commissions?

No, and I probably never will. Who could afford me??

Well, I'd write Netflix a new season of Saiki K for free. (please please please please please)

I have done a couple of gift exchanges / writing events (ex. big bang) before though.

11) What is your most popular fanfiction?

Looks like it's also GC249 - Cross Cultural Communication.

In the Saiki K fandom, it's naturally the Moving Forward series!

12) How many stories have you written?

14 posted on AO3.

No comment about what's languishing away in my wip folder.

13) Would you consider fanfiction as your “thing,” or just like a hobby?

One of my top hobbies for sure.

14) Do you read other fanfictions?

Hmmmmm.... Yes, but it's complicated.

I've been in fandom for many years and my tastes are very specific and particular. My exclusion filter list is a mile long lmao.

In large fandoms, it's less of a problem, but for smaller fandoms, the pickings can be sparse. Not many fics in the Saiki K fandom overall, so I'm just writing my own, lol. Very few people can suit my wildly niche tastes better than I can anyways.

15) What is the best advice you can give to other fanfiction authors?

Have fun with it! At the end of the day, fanfic should bring you joy. You should want to go back and reread your own stuff most of the time. Make it for the most important audience: you!

16) Do you believe the stereotype that all fanfiction is smut?

Nah. There's all sorts out there, bless.

17) Do you write smut/mature fics?

Yeah, absolutely lol.

Though, like every other genre, there is so much variety in it. It's just another kind of character interaction that aims at different feelings in the reader, so it's really a shame that there's so much stigma around it.

I personally tend to write stuff that is very playful and indulgent and banter-y, because for me, ⓢⓔⓧ is just a fun way to explore how the characters trust and love each other. Almost like Fluff+, it's advanced and slightly messy cuddling in my book lmao (probably because I'm ace myself). I usually go for a nice balance of sweet, hot, and funny!

Also I find it really fun to figure out how to make physical intimacy work in supernatural situations like when there were more souls than bodies or when one partner has difficult-to-control powers. 😂 A sensual puzzle for a romantic soul lmao.

You'll never catch me writing fics that are mature due to violence though. Not my thing at all.

18) Is there a story you’re not exactly fond of? Have you gotten rid of it?

There's one old fic I wrote that is... Hmm... Not to my standards. I didn't migrate it to AO3 but it's still out in the web.

19) How many years have you been practicing fanfiction?

My AO3 account is from 2014, but I've been writing since a bit before then...

Also I love that the question is about "practicing" fanfiction like it's a religion or something. 😂

20) How often do you update your story(ies)?

Usually I post stories after they're already complete (Saiki K has been the exception). So then I would post them weekly. Otherwise, it's the weekend after I've finished the next chapter.

21) Does it bother you when you read another fanfic and the characters aren’t in character?

Instant back button for me unless they've made the characters way funnier lol.

22) Is it easy or hard for you to write?

Usually easy. A lot of it is just fancy roleplaying imo, and I have lots of experience there lol. Sometimes I have to go research things and it can be tricky if it's obscure or complicated stuff. More time-consuming than actually hard though.

23) Do you write original/fan characters in your stories?

Only to fulfill a role for which no canon character would fit, never as a main focus. Like, I did invent a photographer for the first Moving Forward chapter, and Aiura will mention some old homegirls, and they're given some personality of course, but that's about it.

24) Have you ever written a fic about your favorite couple/ship?

This is p much all I write usually lol.

25) Do you ever take inspiration from your life and write it into your stories?

I don't think there's anyone alive who hasn't. You can only experience the world through your own eyes, after all.

My own life rarely inspires any fic for me though lol.

26) Who is your favorite fanfiction author? Or regular author?

My bestie is also my fave fanfic author~ 💜

My favorite "regular" authors are Terry Pratchett, Tamora Pierce, Diana Wynne Jones, and my bestie again~

27) Do you have any inspirational figures?

Yes.

28) Have you made any alternative universes or headcanons for your fics?

I always have lots of headcanons, but I've only done AUs for yugioh. 🤔

I think it just depends on how long I'm in the fandom. When I run out of post-canon ideas and still have brainrot, I start coming up with AUs. My bestie still roasts me about my bonkers motorcycle AU. The result of many, many years in the yugioh fandom lol.

29) How long does it normally take you to write a story?

Ages lol. I'm usually very slow. But my Saiki K fics have actually been churning out super fast, comparatively! Not sure if I've leveled up or the brainrot is just That Bad lol.

I don't usually do these but this was fun! Thanks again for the tag, Disgruntled!

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook: Mr. Jeffrey’s Elegant Life Counseling

Thank you for so many consultations. It was nearly impossible to contact Mr. Jeffrey as he is so busy, but we were able to deliver everyone’s consultations to him and received several replies, thus they have been published. May your worries be resolved!

Sleep hours are said to account for 1/3 of life. Please tell us about your particularities for aromas, beddings and such, as well as which ones we should choose in order to spend this 1/3 of our lives elegantly. (Bijou-san)

Bijou-san, greetings! My particularities about elegant beddings, huh. I fly around a lot due to work, so I often live in hotels. That’s exactly why I am a little particular about aromas. But it’s about their purposes rather than their smell: 1. For before work 2. For after work 3. For when I’m on off days I like being able to change my gears myself. Eh? You heard from an acquaintance of mine that I only have numbers 1 and 2? No way; I also have number 3, I just don’t have any time to use it at all. Well, adieu!

I have been keeping a loach for three years now, but have not named it yet. I think it is about time I do so, but what would be a good name? (Tsuyu-san)

Tsuyu-san and Nameless Loach-san, hello! I see, so you’ve had a loach for three years. Ah-ha-ha-ha! I think any name will do! Eh? What is it, Ricky? “Since we’re at it, just name it Jeffrey”? No way, I might get eaten in Yanagawa! Please choose anything but Jeffrey! I’m counting on you!

(T/N: Yanagawa is a city in Kyushu, known for its traditional loach stew.)

I am the type who fears failing and ends up staying in the same place, so what can I do to be as active as you, Jeffrey-san? (Sorasaki-san)

Sorasaki-san, hello! You seem to have a very high opinion of me, so thank you very much. But I am not at all an active person. I simply work like a Japanese dancing mouse because of my job, and I think all I do is sleep on my house’s sofa if I don’t have anything to do. Maybe you should change your mindset. How about taking the direction not of “wanting to be active”, but of wanting to look for something that you wish to do because you haven’t found it yet? Eh? You have things you want to do? That’s just perfect. All that’s left is for you to execute this desire, and then it will be the birth of a lovely and active Sorasaki-san. If you like that, do try it out. Well, adieu!

This is my first year as a respectable member of society. I earned myself the occupation I wanted, but all I do is mess up and I still cannot think of it as enjoyable. I am blessed with good seniors, so my feeling of guilt is strong in that regard. What can I do to be able to think of my job as fun? (Yoppi-san)

Yoppi-san, hello! Okay, this is sudden, but Jeffrey-onii-san has questions for the working people who are reading this. Is your work enjoyable? Are you positively doing your best? Is there nothing at all that you just can’t see as fun? Hm, feels like I can hear the responses going, “as if” beyond the walls of this dimension. I think one year after you start working is still a period where there are many things you’re not yet used to, and I myself also did stuff that had me feeling sorry at the time. Nowadays, I find myself recalling these feelings as unripe and nostalgic, but there’s just no helping any of it in your first shot.

That’s okay; you will grow used to it soon enough. Might not be BCG, but it’s a road that everyone goes down. If it’s still hard, then go hang out with a friend around the same age as you who you get along with and wash away your irritation! I think trying to force yourself to have fun is a pain, so for now, how about you try to make enduring reality into your main task? Wow, I feel like this has turned out as a very decent reply that isn’t like me at all! May you grow into a wonderful professional. Adieu!

I am a college student, but my image of working is too negative and I am very distressed about finding a job. How can I have hope and work while my future is uncertain? (Misaki-san)

Misaki-san, hello! In this day and age, having hope towards working is very hard, isn’t it? Even I don’t have that much of it. But I spend my days cheerfully! Why? Because I’m rich? That’s not it. Ack, that hurts, Ricky; I keep telling you to stop hitting me with boxing moves!

It’s because I have baseless confidence. Baseless confidence is the best. Because there’s no basis to it. Ya~y!

What you should do to have baseless confidence? Try challenging yourself to do something – anything – that you’ve never done before. If you do this, many things will happen at once. They mostly won’t go well. You will get yelled at and praised, not knowing what is what. Things will either somehow work out or not at all while you have a laugh at it, and as you find yourself in a situation that feels like being jerked around by a storm, everything will be over before you realize it.

You might get into a state of collapse, but at that moment, you’ll have become a different person from before you challenged yourself. Just a little bit. But it’s a big change. If you hadn’t thought of challenging yourself, you wouldn’t have had that experience. But because you decided to do it and tried it out, you���ll have polished yourself when going through said experience. Don’t you think that’s amazing?

To work is to live. I think a challenge is the fastest way to living with confidence. If you have anything you like or are interested in, it might be good to try starting from there as the outset. Adieu!

There are too many things I want, so I never manage to save any money! Jeffrey-san, do you also have these kinds of experiences…? (Karina-san)

Oops, there’s a different fee for money-related consultations, but this doesn’t seem to be that kind of talk. When you think about what I would say, there’s no way that the youngest son of English aristocrats would have had this kind of experience—except I have. Not just me but also my brother and cousin were under a system of restrict pocket money back in our student years, so although they were enough for food expenses, buying all the things we wanted was a dream upon another dream. I think we improved our way of setting our priorities straight thanks to that. Everything is about experience. Adieu!

I do not hate work – I am actually the type that likes it – but Jeffrey-sama, what do you do in those times when you suddenly feel like taking a break from work or when you only want to do fun things? (Tofu-san)

Tofu-san, hello! Hm-hm, I get you. No matter how fun and lively your job is, it’s depressing when you think about having to be there and do work every day, isn’t it? Vacations are far-off, and you can’t go on vacation in the first place or even have the will to—wait, that’s me.

What I recommend to you, Tofu-san, is going on a weekday vacation. I’m not at all telling you to take absence from your company, but to go on a vacation after you leave work. Put on your favorite clothes and go hang out at a club, watch as many streamed videos as you want while eating chips and drinking ale, get engrossed in reading – follow your many desires and do only the things you like! Until the time to go to work on the next day, that is! We’re talking an all-nighter here; an all-nighter.

Of course, your skin will get dry, your eyes will be bleary and your work efficiency will see a sharp drop, so you can’t do it all the time, but this little vacation works surprisingly well for your heart’s health. Try it when you feel like taking a nice break. My personal recommendation is eating as much chocolate and churros as you can overnight. I remember very well that a prodigious acquaintance of mine survived a test week thanks to this. Well, adieu!

Ricky, you didn’t get angry this time, huh? Eh, did you forget to? Can’t remember anything anymore except the taste of Nakata-kun’s pudding? Ah, ouch, ouch, ouch! Sorry; I said sorry! Stirred a hornet’s nest, didn’t I?

In order to become a member of society, I will be living by myself in Tokyo starting from April next year! Jeffrey-san, I would like you to tell me your methods for stress relief and what rewards you give yourself when you do your best! (Ryon-san)

Ryon-san, hello! Congratulations on this big step to becoming a new member of society. “Member of society” is a pretty Japanese-like concept. For your first time living alone, the things that you deem as fun and your troubles will probably change from what they used to be until now, so I believe that thinking while having your eyes set on your desires is the most important. By the way, I like karaoke. Because you can sing loudly in them! Ricky was the one who taught me Shouwa pop music—eh? This topic isn’t allowed? Same for the talk about those popular songs that we’d sing when we were studying Japanese? Ah, I’m sorry. Due to brotherly circumstances, this topic has to stop here. That’s right; anything except sweets is fine as a reward. I know about the touching hard work of a certain someone, after all. Well, adieu… Wait a minute; wait! No boxing!

I am bad at speaking out my opinion in front of others, and I get so nervous that my voice trembles. How can I stop being anxious? Also, Jeffrey-san, in what kind of situation do you get nervous? Please tell me! (Totororo-san)

Totororo-san, hello. Anxiety is a problem, isn’t it? Your voice shakes, your hands shake, and you just feel like taking a break. I was also like that back when I had just become a student, but strangely enough, I was able to deal just fine with nervousness after learning a secret chant. It’s a chant passed down for generations in the Claremont family, which was taught to me by Henry and taught to Henry by our father, Godfrey. What kind of chant is it, you ask? Aah, I’m sorry, but this is off-limits for outsiders. I cannot tell you. But, that’s right, I shall tell you just the atmosphere and the mindset of the chant as an exception: 1. Acknowledge that you are nervous and be thankful for it 2. Because that’s the same as the many big ordeals that our ancestors have gone through until now 3. As you are at the very end of the line, you must be grateful for the grandiose fate of being granted an ordeal as well 4. Express respect for your own courage Okay, it’s more or less this mindset. Whenever I was saying [beep] before an important presentation, well, it was that chant. In my opinion, Totororo-san, it’s okay for you to also create your own version of the chant and use it. According to Henry, this chant has been passed down for generations in the Claremont household, so it clearly gets stronger the more you use it. Was this helpful? Please do your best! Be thankful for your nervousness and have respect for your courage. Well, adieu!

Hey, Henry, that time when I cried before I started going to school because I had to do a speech in front of everyone, I wonder just how you felt.

Hello, Jeffrey-san, who looks lovely in glasses. I do my best every day, all the while being healed by your kindness! My dark history is that I was once super fat… and even now, I cannot bring myself to look directly at my photos from that time. Jeffrey-san, you apparently listened to too much rock in the past and made your father cry because you would run around in punk fashion. It seems your cousin sometimes blackmails you with pictures of it, so Jeffrey-san, how do you face your dark history? If there is any way to deal with dark history from the far past, by all means, I would like you to tell me. (Sechiko-san)

Sechiko-san, hello! From the way that you came in casually gouging your advisor’s wounds, I can see that you are the angelic little devil type of character, just like me. I can’t hate you, damn—! About how to face and deal with your dark history, hmm, this doesn’t restrict the possibility that “the present will be dark history when I look back at it in the future” into an irrefutable condition, right? Human beings change from moment to moment, so if you think that your past and current selves have the exact same personality and nature, you’re bound to get burned. Isn’t it just fine if you act as if you were watching over one of your relative’s children, like, “You used to be like this back then, huh”? So, Ricky, how about you get rid of those photos already?! Hey, hey, hey? Can’t you?

Jeffrey-san, hello. My house is bustling with books. I have become familiar with electronics too, but in the end, I like paper books, and so I wind up collecting my favorite ones in paperback format as well. My childhood dream was to build a library inside my house and put a sofa in it so that I could read books there, but when I think about my housing circumstances, it seems unlikely to come true. Jeffrey-san, how do you keep control of your books? Also, what kind of books do you like? (Oh-gi-san)

Oh-gi-san, hello! Aah, someone who loves paper books, huh? You’re one of Henry’s. I’m on the tech side. The reason is that I’m always moving around, so the short and unappealing option of having as little baggage as possible is better for me. But if I could take time for it, I’d like to read a leather hardcover book in front of the fireplace while having some cognac. I have only been reading newspapers, magazines, reports and essays for the last ten or so years now, so if I had time, I guess I’d try challenging myself to read a thick full-length novel for once. I’m thinking about asking my cousin for recommendations on Japanese literature. Makes me nostalgic; I don’t remember anymore when it was, but I just recalled that I really did think about asking him this before. Books are nice, aren’t they? They’re always nostalgic in some way. Well, adieu!

Jeffrey-san, hello! This is sudden, but I am very indecisive. When I am shopping, I worry over it, like, “Which one is better? Should I be buying this now?”… and in the end, I buy nothing. What can I do to improve my resolution? (YuiKa-san)

You’re asking me!? Just kidding. YuiKa-san, hello. You asked me advice because you want to change your indecisive self, right? I think it’s probably because you already understand that “not having resolution is a type of resolution in itself”. Time passes even while you can’t decide, and things get decided on their own! Just like when I had to choose whether or not to interfere in my cousin’s wedding. I’m sorry; the topic got heavy. I believe, YuiKa-san, that you think you’re the one who has to decide what the range of your choices is at least, even if you know that you won’t get a perfect result out of it. That is commendable. I respect you.

I think the way to improve your resolution is to have many regrets. The more you experience things that will make you think, “I don’t want this to happen ever again”, the more you will be filled with the self-realization that it was better to have made a decision rather than not, so you will become able to make straightforward choices. Bluntly put, if you live your life with your eyes open, your resolution will definitely improve. You’ll be fine. Did that answer the question? It’s an improper advice, so it’s okay if you say it didn’t. Just kidding. Adieu!

What should I do in order to make friends with someone who is apart from me in age and into all sorts of genres? (Ninoka-san)

Ninoka-san, hello. You want a friend with an age gap who’s into many genres, right? What kind of friend would that be? Someone who seems to be having fun with themselves? Someone who has a field of expertise where they won’t lose to anyone? If you have an idealized image that has you going, “This is it!”, then you should try to be like that first! Posting about it on social media while being careful of literacy is also good. If you do that, my, what a mystery – people who want to be friends with you and salesmen will come your way in swarms! If what you want isn’t a “friend” but “personal connections”, this should undoubtedly work. If you really want a friend, then I don’t recommend choosing them like they’re a support item. Because they’ll turn into someone that you can’t see as anything other than a support item, like me. Have a fun life! Well, adieu.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Illicit Affairs - Harold x Reader (Adore)

Cruel Summer / Magnets / The Next Best Australian Record

GIF CREDIT: X

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

 Author’s Note: I know I said I was kinda finished with these two as far as I thought safe to take them.  Oh, but this song I haaaaaaad to...

So here’s another one on the list of ‘how long does it take you to write a fic’. I decided I was writing this on 8th October (when I wrote my plot notes. at like 11pm) then I wrote and finished it on 10th/11th.  Whereas sooooome stuff gets stuck in my drafts for like 6 months. And honestly I really don’t know how I do it. There’s a fic on my side blog that I turned around in 24 hours, which is another thing entirely but I am the most inconsistent writer! 😅🙈😬 I don’t know how you all put up with it, to be honest, but I’m glad you’re all here!

Ah shit we being and ‘end’ with Taylor again?! Ah well, can’t be helped!

Disclaimer: Adore/Adoration not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: With Harold now divorced things get a little easier for a while, but you shouldn’t expect things to remain so un-convoluted for long, especially when you receive an invite to Tom’s wedding...

Words: 6418

Warnings: Sexual connotations / Sexual Pre-Amble / Swearing

_______ Make sure nobody sees you leave Keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

Take the words for what they are A dwindling, mercurial high A drug that only worked The first few hundred times

And you wanna scream Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times ---

Life all seemed a little easier after his divorce. You still had to be careful, that much was certain, but it didn’t feel like a full affair. The only attachment either of you had was each other. For you it felt like a weight was lifted - a worry. If you only had to worry about what your friends and the University would think if they found out, all that really mattered was being careful on campus. Surprisingly easy; longing glances in class could have meant anything (didn’t they all already know you had a massive crush?), but that ‘catch you later’ smile on his face was the best new thing. Not every night, but a few of them you would spend back at his place. It felt like a real relationship now, you’d found something meaningful. Now you could spend time with him off campus, you seemed to get even more careful on it. It wasn’t the only place you could touch him, hold him, kiss him anymore. You’d been concerned about him leaving you. The age gap in itself would give him more than enough reasons. But he didn’t; Harold stayed. And eventually it wasn’t just belief that he wouldn’t leave you, you knew he wouldn’t. So another year at university ended, and this summer was the first you’d spent between Sydney and home. Obviously, Harold wasn’t going to be coming back. And far be it from your parents to stop you from going back to see your friends. They were just glad to see you happy, and having your own adventures. And you did get to have adventures, even if you never left his house. Summer bled into another year of university, important as your final one, strange in every social context you could possibly think of. Unusually tough to balance – and it made you only too glad to immerse yourself in your class work rather than your relationship. One of the blessings of Harold being that much older than you and having been there before (and heck as if he didn’t know about stressed and struggling university students), was that he understood and let you get on with what you thought was important. You still saw him, just not as often, and it affected nothing between you. Tom wanted to see more of his father, again that was understandable to you, but it was weird to see him kicking around Sydney and occasionally in your classes. On the instances you did bump into each other – and none of them very compromising, that you made sure of – you were civil. But there was never anything more to it than that, until Mary. Your first thought should obviously have been ‘I guess his girl back home didn’t work out’. Instead it was more about things becoming even more convoluted. Harold had come to you with the great idea that, as a final year and preparing to take that leap into the world of acting, you could mentor the lower years on your experience. Your mentee met your ex-boyfriend, and the next thing you knew they were dating. Harold thought it was hilarious, you weren’t so sure – but were at least prepared to see the ironically funny side. You certainly neglected to mention it any time you talked with her though. You weren’t sure you could get through a conversation without ‘Oh yeah and by the way he’s a cheater…’ Highly inappropriate! As you did start to consider your future seriously, the path you found yourself on came from an unexpected place. A new friend – a guy in class who you knew of, but had never really worked with. Stuck together for one of your many final projects, this wasn’t just about developing a few scenes – but a whole two-person stage play. It was like a light bulb moment, how well your energy and creative process and thinking matched. On the same page from the first moment, you weren’t sure which one of you had suggested doing this past your final year, but it seemed like the most logical thing in the world. As expected, Harold was nothing but supportive. Even joking that you’d get your work finished and produced before any of his. Before you hushed him with kisses and let him know how much you believed in him. Adding to your mad year, Harold also moved house – still beach front, modern and pretty. But it maintained a nice rustic aesthetic. Polished wood and steel. He whisked you up to see it before he’d even bought it – because apparently you got a say in things like this now. ‘Why? You’re the one living here.’ ‘I want you to still want to visit me.’ ‘I’d visit you if you were in a 1 bedroom flat with peeling paint and a leaky kitchen sink, you know that.’ ‘Yeah but, maybe it won’t always just be my house.’ You hoped he didn’t expect to be met with anything but joyful screaming at that. The very last thing – as if everything else wasn’t enough - was the final year production. Gruelling auditions were worth it once you got the main part, opposite your future business partner. It was nice, it was going to give you a taste of the future, a trial run. Harold unfortunately was in charge of the second years instead, but he brought Tom over to help manage it – no prizes for how he met Mary. Still, you went along to watch and support. Wondering how exactly you could make him a piece of the puzzle… proud of him and his vision. It made you nothing but excited for that original work of his to be complete – it would be nothing but an honour for you to star in it. Yet it also meant that he didn’t get to see yours until it debuted, and somehow having him on the front row provided you with a confidence boost. And that little wink he gave you as you took your bows gave you all the hints you needed about where your night was going… You wouldn’t lie to yourself anymore, Harold was everything you had always wanted. *** You gave it almost exactly a year after you had finished studying before you ‘came clean’ to your friends. Oh, you were never going to tell them the full details, and you certainly weren’t about to tell your parents everything: just that you were with someone, and you were happy… really happy. In your opinion that was all that should have mattered to them. Your friends were all incredibly shocked at first, but then supportive, and they instantly brought back some of their old favourite jokes ‘Holy shit! Good marks eventually DID get you in his pants after all!’ The truth was not the official line: You had met in a café like total coincidence just to catch up, once… twice… turning into a fair few times… turning into chemistry. Still totally weird, still with that age gap that made everyone (and you meant everyone) caution you, still this ‘he was your teacher once-!?’ that hung around. But not the truth, not that this had been going on so much longer than that. A story that you were both happy with – because no one ever needed to know the full story. And Harold was right about his house; although you had a small apartment across town you hardly stayed there – you spent all your time with him at his. You didn’t want to call it yours, didn’t dare speak the word ours until he did it first. But it always hung there, unspoken… Soon enough your friends grew to love him. How different things were out of the classroom, the conversations and interactions between them. Them all telling you that they finally got it – and then understood why, upon you meeting up again, why you’d hooked up. Which only had you pitying them for not seeing how gorgeous and amazing he was in the first place. There were a lot of shared evenings that happened around his house, where he’d let you invite your friends over but stayed well out of the way. Harold also let you invite them to his birthday though, and after the initial celebrations he and his friends stayed inside, whilst your friends stayed out on the porch. There was a chill in the air, but the fire was still going and you were all huddled together under blankets. As one by one his friends left and you were still sitting out giggling and sipping wine and beer, Harold came out to check you were all okay. Because he cared about them as much as you did. It made you love him even more, if that was at all possible. They probably loved that they could wind you up over this more than anything else, but that was fine for you, you knew it would take time for them to get used to the idea, although the tide was already turning; it was weird but they were also loving it. No one had left, somehow in all this madness you’d kept everything. It all seemed a little too good to be true sometimes, so you made sure to count all your blessings.

 Harold’s play still wasn’t finished; he always said he was almost there, but seemed to be taking an age to edit it all – he’d let you read nearly everything but the conclusion. “Why? Won’t I like it?” “I just want it to be the final-final version before you read that. I guess it’s more… thought provoking than satisfying.” So he kept you guessing. You’d become more of a stage actor than you’d ever expected… perhaps eventually you’d commit yourself to film and TV too. You’d done a few here-and-there episodes but nothing concrete. But it was the dynamic between you and your writing partner – who, if you were honest, was quickly turning out to be your best friend – that kept you in stage work. You’d started a small production company to write and produce these plays and they were pretty successful. But you’d also been included in other, sometimes large scale, productions. And, yes, as ever, Harold was front row for as many of these as he could be. You spent your spare time as you had before, tangled up with him, reading or writing together. With always the promise of: ‘Once I finish I’m casting you in this!’ and any time the school did a production, well… it was your turn to be front row for him.

*** Your joint influence on the people in your lives became more apparent, and also came as a surprise. To you at least. And your question was tentative even if you knew the answer already. “Harry… did you… get an invite to Tom’s wedding?” He pointed up to the fridge upon which was stuck the invite; very pretty, clearly there had been a lot of thought put into this and you would think a lot of effort would be put into such a wedding. You crossed the kitchen to look at it: Plus One, interesting. “Does he know?” “He knows I have somebody but not who, why?” By now he’d caught the piece of card you were holding in your hands, and you held it up. “I didn’t expect to get one myself, but here we are. I mean if I was going to be included at all, maybe I’d be on my parents one, but-” “Oh! Mary’s influence?” “Perhaps. I haven’t told her anything either, but why me? I’m his ex and I’m friends with her… but not very good friends.” “Family friends, maybe that’s it.” “A courtesy invite? I suppose it could be. But it’s not like my parents knew you and Roz that long, I didn’t grow up there like Tom and Ian-” You thought better of it and held that thought. You scored the invite with your nails, “Do you… want me to go?” Harold tilted himself back slightly, folding his arms, “Why? Are you thinking of not going?” “It’s not that, it’s that my parents are going. They’ve already discussed it with me, I’m certainly not ready to out this. And I don’t want you to spend your son’s wedding worrying about that. It’s a big day for him and you!” “Would you go anyway?” “Harry-” “It shouldn’t be about me.” “No, it should only be about you! Yes, I would like to go, but not if it makes more sense for me to stay away.” “Then accept and come.” You blushed gently, “Is that what you want?” “Of course I do. We can play it safe, geez, the last time we were around your family was when this started and was at its most dangerous. It’s not an affair anymore, you’re not my student anymore. If something happens then it happens, but look at you. You’re a star in your own right now, you’re an adult and your life is your life!” “It’s the family friends thing, they will go crazy. Even with the story line we made up, I doubt they’ll speak to me ever again.” “Do they know you’re seeing anyone?” “They’re vaguely aware.” Vaguely was certainly the operative word – more because you certainly expected for talk to get back to them that you had a relationship. You’d never made it sound serious to them, but you told them a little to sate their curiosity. “Well then,” He walked forward, cupping your face, “we’re on the same page and we’ll be fine.” “If you say so.” “I do, don’t you trust me?” You giggled, before leaning forward and grazing your lips to his, “No offense, but that’s a stupid question!” *** You were right, there was a lot of effort put into the wedding. There were less guests for the ceremony, but from what you’d been hearing there’d be quite the after party. As you were on your own invite, you also got the perks of a separate room to your parents. You didn’t hang around the wedding party when you arrived – you weren’t about to turn up here and make yourself a nuance - and it gave you time to relax and prepare yourself for tomorrow. You’d have to try to be on your very best behaviour, no matter what Harold had said, you didn’t want there to be any incidents. Your dress was in a colour that flattered you, covered in little appliques of your favourite flowers, sensible heels in the same colour. The opportunity to do your own make-up and hair; though you kinda missed having backstage stylists… The idea was simply to follow Harold’s lead, considering this was Tom’s wedding. He greeted you with familiarity; his ex-student who he’d seen in many a production since you’d graduated. He even seemed to indicate that you had in fact met up a few times just for general interest catch ups. To which Harold also added ‘maybe I’ll get you in to talk to my students sometime.’ Your parents did ask how exactly it was that you’d leave this detail out. ‘It’s just day to day stuff! You don’t tell me every time you see your friends-!’ Now, ‘friends’ wasn’t a word they questioned. You knew you weren’t going to get to sit next to him, but your family was sitting behind him and that was adequate, he might have only glanced back a couple of times, but they were enough to have you beaming. The ceremony was sweet, smooth sailing; they really did look in love. It gave you pause for thought – was that how you looked at Harold? Still? You’d been together a while now, but then you supposed so had Tom and Mary. Maybe that was just a wedding effect – after all, was there a more romantic day for two people? You also smiled a lot, it was such a lovely occasion to behold, even the atmosphere – like everyone was finally in the place they were meant to be. Which, considering the convoluted way this had all started that fateful summer, was fairly incredible. Harold placed his hand delicately on the small of your back, as you both left the chapel. “Don’t want you to think I don’t think you look beautiful…” You nudged him gently, “If you’ll let me return the compliment.” He chuckled, “No.” “Yes! I mean that’s got to be one of the main reasons I’m here!” His cheeks turned pink and he looked a little bashful, removing his hand from you, far enough away from everyone else to sneakily lace your fingers behind your back instead, “But I mean it.” “Thank you, that’s very sweet… Yet I’m hardly the main spectacle. It’s all stunning and her dress is flawless.” “I don’t disagree, it’s very lovely. We have the rest of the day and the party yet.” “Well alright, I know you’re privy to everything.” You smiled, “I’m just happy you’re involved.” “Hmm. It’s humbling.” “You’re his father!” “He’s spent more time with Roz. Tom didn’t have to ask me.” “Well, I suppose you can’t change my opinion… As long as you know my opinions of you!” “Oh.” He let you go as you approached the drinks reception and winked, “Yes, I would think I did!” The drinks reception and dinner afterwards had exactly the same set of increasingly hilarious conversations. You weren’t always in ear shot of each other, or in the same social circles, but everyone wanted to know about the people you were respectively dating. You were a couple of drinks in, and became much more willing to open up – to the point where you were positively gushing about him. You gave your partner no name, age, or any of the questions they were asking that would be more revealing, but were more than willing to tell the rest of the story. And when you heard him being asked roughly the same questions - and sometimes you were standing together at these points - he was doing exactly the same thing. You were surprised one of you hadn’t broke out in a beaming smile or had glowed in sweet embarrassment yet. And yet it did make you feel so happy that Harold was happy to talk about you in the same way, and every so often you’d catch each other’s eyes and you would smile just like that. There was something about both being in on such a secret; you were happy you’d decided to come and be here – even if you weren’t with him, you were most definitely with him. You didn’t approach Tom and Mary until a little later but they were both so happy to see you. And you congratulated them with about as much enthusiasm. “First up you both look gorgeous! And this wedding is so beautiful… oh my gosh, you guys!” You hugged them both tight. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both!” “Hey,” Tom nudged you, “What’s this I’ve been hearing about you, though!? Get him married.” “AHaha-” You excused yourself from your laugh, “I mean I dunno I… maybe.” You quickly turned the conversation back on them, “You both look so joyful, and so great together. Enjoy it, alright.” You pointed to Tom, “Extra enjoy it for me, I’ll see where I go.” “Oh, I will!” He grinned, hugging you again. You wondered if he ever had told Mary that you’d dated. You supposed it wasn’t the relationship with him you needed to worry about so much. Mary pulled you back to her, “Thank you, so much!” “Oh, you were always star material…” you squeezed her tight, “But you’re welcome. Maybe we’ll get to be in a production together soon!” “I’ll hold you to that!” She giggled, wishing you well as you let her go. You breathed a sigh of relief as you made your way back to your parents, all’s well that ends well…

 ***

It was a little later, after the first dance, and when everyone was moving around the party freely: everything now in full swing and at least a few of them having already having had too much alcohol, that you realised your assumption was wrong. Some people here weren’t having a good time. You were alright to sit alone and observe for now. You’d known what you were getting into. Ian, best man and from what you’d been told by Harold the one to start this whole ball rolling, was sitting around rather dejectedly. You’d watched him intently for a little while, and he seemed to be getting confrontational with just about everyone – including your man. Now he just appeared to be sulking. So much for us all being more grown up now… Eventually you’d clearly stared at him long enough to have caught his eye, and you offered somewhere between a sympathetic and fed-up smile. Attempting to give an air of ‘yeah man, I know the feeling!’ considering you were also sitting here alone, but his face just scrunched into an even bigger frown as he huffed, crossing his arms before looking away. Okay then, sorry I tried! You weren’t left alone for much longer than that, as Harold wandered over. “Hey, you doing alright over here?” “Yeah, fine.” You waved off Ian, just in case he’d seen any of that brief exchange, “Just taking some quiet time.” “Well, that’s an awful lot of quiet time…” He held his hand out for yours, “Come on, come dance.” Your eyes immediately widened, and you looked from his hand to his face, “With you!?” “No, with someone else – yes, me!” “Harry, I don’t think that we should-” “I want you to enjoy yourself… c’mon.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and praying this wasn’t the worst idea you’d ever had, as you placed your hand in his and he pulled you up.  “Think of it as like… a father daughter dance.” “Oh no, you just made it worse.” His laugh was embarrassed, “Oh, yeah I guess I did, didn’t I – sorry!” Harold didn’t try to make it romantic, although clearly because it was between you it was, and you supposed it was something a little reminiscent of ‘father of the bride’. Well, no one else – not even your family – was dancing with you, so why the hell not? Still you voiced the question. “Should we be doing this?” To which you were only presented with your own question: “Shouldn’t we really be beyond caring?” You couldn’t help but laugh, “You been drinkin’?!” “Not that much, give me some credit!” Oh, the want to pull him closer, your wish to lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes as he swayed you gently on this dancefloor. To look into his eyes like you really wanted to, and were using all your self-control to make sure you weren’t. For him to just wrap you in his embrace right now. It didn’t happen, and you didn’t expect it to, but it hurt a little. Still, here you were and he was ‘holding’ you – it was as close as you were going to get, and you savoured every single second of his skin on yours. Eventually you did actually get to dance with your father and then some younger ‘gentlemen’ (though, whether you’d call them that…) cut in and you let them dance with you the way you wished that Harold could. At least you were enjoying yourself, to you that was the most important thing. But, you ended up back over by the drinks table with your actual other half, observing the party once more, and you broached the subject of the catalyst. “What did Ian say to you?” “Huh?” He turned, bottle half way to his lips. “I mean it looked like he was getting a little irate.” Harold just looked confused, so you sighed with an eyeroll, “Earlier!” “Oh.” Then he laughed, “Well clearly he’s the least happy person at this entire wedding, and he ironically said this was all my fault.” Your eyebrows raised, “Sorry!?” “Well I did take Mary to Tom’s 21st. So, I guess… that’s where they became a little more serious.” You snorted, “Holy shit. The wedding is your fault!? But what’s wrong with the-” you looked back out to the guests and then it clicked, “Everyone was growing up… You think they ended all the affairs at home?” He gave you a face to say he agreed with your deduction, “I’m glad we didn’t get the memo.” You only laughed, “I don’t think I would have agreed to the memo!” “Now we’re on the same page-!” **

You were standing outside on the patio, admiring the stars and lit scenery, when Tom caught up with you again. “Can I ask you something?” “Yes. And you just did.” That had him laughing, and you only slipped into chuckles too, he still liked how fast you were at quipping. Suddenly you were transported back – what would this have been if it didn’t become such a mess. “Your boyfriend…” “Mhm.” You straightened to the edge in his voice, and although Tom was looking at you seriously there was a hint of playfulness to his voice. “How long have you been together?” You couldn’t tell if he’d figured you out yet. “What if I said, it’s the same guy that I first mentioned to you in that massive argument we had?” He leant back against the railing, breathing out heavily. “I feel like I should have… figured it out before now.” “Considering I don’t know what you’ve figured out – you want me to help?” “It’s my dad, isn’t it.” It wasn’t even a question. You were a little affronted by his tone: “You don’t have to make it sound so creepy. In fact, if you want me to bring up glass houses…” He was a little taken aback that you’d just admit it, “Shit, you knew about-!?” “I told you I did. Yeah, that’s how this all started, you and Ian and…” you waved your hand and then pointed at yourself, “Only I stayed with mine… Geez, I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” He laughed, “Why?” “He’s… your dad. That’s not why I dated you, it’s just how it happened.” “You don’t have to explain!” He waved his hands around, “He’s happy, you’re happy, you’ve spent a lot of time together today, I have observed, and it just… I dunno, I guess it clicked. Everything he’s said about – well you – but his other half, and everything you’ve said.” “Oh, damn, is it obvious?!” “No. I just have all the pieces, don’t I?” “You’re… a little too cool with this.” “I told you we were cool before.” Tom’s look was significant, “We’re still cool. And I’m not gonna go telling everyone, until you’re ready to go do that yourselves. Besides,” he nudged you with a smile, “you seem to have enough dirt on me!” “Uh, I would never. You go off and enjoy your married life to an amazing woman, you idiot!” “I’ll do my best – but I’m never gonna call you mom!” “I’m just glad I’m older than you!” You folded your arms with a grin as he left you, with a wave, before turning back, “Why’s that!?” “The likely inevitability of grandbabies. I’m just gonna have to be the cool aunt or something!” You didn’t think you’d heard anyone laugh so loud in a long time. ***

It continued to get later, although the party was still going on and you could hardly take it anymore. You’d watched him move around in it all day, and now all you wanted was that suit on your hotel room floor, or his. That single button he’d undone and the slacked nature of his tie was nowhere near enough for you. But it was hard to let him know that when you couldn’t just go over and grab his hand; you had to just rely on glances and hope that he got it. And clearly he did, as he crossed the room back to you. Although instead of telling you that he was ready to go, he came with a cautionary tale. “We need to be careful about this.” “And your suggestion is?” “Well, we have to stagger when we leave, but you might want to say goodbye to people. Because your parents will notice you’re gone.” “Oh, your son isn’t gonna notice you’re gone, huh?” It was then Harold decided to tell you he’d seen your conversation with Tom, “Well he knows, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t a question, and you were stuck on how to respond, “I didn’t hear, but I saw you two. Is there anything you want me to say to him?” “…Well, that’s between you…” You lowered your eyes, “I didn’t tell him, he guessed.” “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Harold couldn’t touch you, so his nickname made you look up. “I’ll talk to him, maybe not tonight… You go, I’ll watch you, wait for me.” You nodded and he gave you a gentle wink before you both headed in different directions. You had one more drink before you started to play the tired card – although really you were far from it – and said goodbye to your parents, a few of the others you knew here, and finally bride and groom before you headed off. Outside of the reception room the hotel was cool and quiet (you supposed it was pretty late) and you could take a breather, sliding out of your heels on the steps it felt so good to be back on the floor. You wandered slowly up the corridor and across hotel reception, you weren’t exactly sure whose room you were heading to, but nearly everyone was on the same floor and you were all certainly on the same wing. You were just finding your way up the steps on the other side of reception when you heard the footfall of smart dress shoes behind you, and turned to Harold saying a goodnight to the receptionist who had pulled night shift. He continued his pace as he caught you, turning up the corridor but not before turning back and wishing you a goodnight. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow: who were you keeping up appearances for now? Hotel staff? You shook your head and turned, finding him back at his room, apparently having trouble with his key.

“Would you like some help?” You slipped yourself between him and his room door. “If you would be so kind.” “Not sure I was talking about your room key…” You smirked, prising it from his hand, waiting for the beep to pull him to your lips by his tie, you stumbled backwards into the room as he pushed the door. Harold waited until it had closed to pull you into him, hands into your hair. It felt so good to have him touch you again, and you realised how much you’d yearned for it all day, as his hands moved down your neck and shoulders to your back, he continued to pull you closer. “God, I love you.” You almost whimpered it – kisses leaving you breathless, and you weren’t sure if that was because of the whole wedding atmosphere, or that you hadn’t had even a single chance to tell him face to face in nearly two days. But he needed to know, urgently. He chuckled, nuzzling your face with his own, “I love you too.” Your breath still caught every time he said it, even now. After having to wait so long for his first, there wasn’t anything any less special about it a hundred, a thousand, a million times later. He was still nothing ever but delicate with you, guiding you across his room to the bed before his hands collected on your shoulders again. Harold took a step back, the low level lighting set the perfect mood, but he moved his body so the moonlight could shine on you through the still open curtains. “You are so beautiful.” His fingers gathered under your chin, to keep you from shying away from his eyes as your own hands collected on his chest, ready to push his jacket down his arms. “You truly are.” As if he didn’t already affirm this nearly every day of his life, and Harold kissed you again. “Me?” Your instinctive reaction to flirting was always to nervously joke, “You look in a mirror, lately?” Harold shook his head before his lips traced yours again and he let you relieve him of his jacket, you were quick to unfurl his tie too. You stilled at the buttons of his shirt because his hands were back on your shoulders again and you relaxed your stance, releasing his lips to watch him push the straps of your dress down, guiding his hands across to the slight zip, he ghosted you a kiss in thanks before he let your dress fall to the floor. This time as you caught his collar to run through the buttons you kissed him harder, pushing your body into his – encouraging him to touch you and moaning into his kiss as you did so. His shirt was off quick and joined your dress as he deepened the kiss and you wound yourself around him, enjoying the taste on his tongue. Your kiss continued to get hot and heavy as your hands shot to his belt; he was no longer of the persuasion to stop you on bedroom thresholds, opening his body up for you to relieve him of it and undo his suit pants. Relenting as his hands caressed your back, finding your bra clasp; you always felt so fragile under those large hands of his, but all Harold ever did was take care of you. He lifted you gently from the floor and laid you both back in the sheets, kicking off his pants as he did so. You remained locked in your kiss as he caught you in an embrace, pulling your panties slowly down your legs, your breathing was a little shallower, at the friction of his hips against yours. You could hardly wait for him now, eagerly reliving him of his own underwear. “Shh shhh…” Harold gathered your hands in his, breaking the kiss and you whined, making him chuckle, “Darling, we have all night…” “…Harry…” The way you whined his name was delightful and that flicker across his eyes that he couldn’t control had you craving more of him, “please.” And you knew he wouldn’t deny you if you asked politely. “All night.” He repeated, and all you hoped was you weren’t going to be too loud when the other guests retired to their rooms for the evening. Hooking your leg over his hips he made sure you were completely comfortable before he entered you. You held him tighter, trying to stifle your moans in his skin. But he groaned gently too, and it was an exquisite little sound. In the comfortable quiet before you moved together, you kissed him gently again, reaffirming what you’d said before, “I love you.” Free to tell him all night now, you weren’t about to waste any opportunity. He rubbed his hands over your skin, sweet and delicate, “Darling I know… I’ve known that for a very long time.” He caught your lips once more, “I only hope I remain deserving of such love.” You weren’t sure why he occasionally said things like that to you, maybe sometimes he felt guilty about the whole thing, but you would only ever reassure him. He was deserving, and you knew he would always remain that way.

*** It was very early morning when you awoke, too much excitement in the air – even in the aftermath of the wedding - for you to sleep. You stood out on the balcony, watching the watery sky as the sun began to break through.  Harold was content to watch you from the bed as you were draped in his shirt and the bed sheet, looking out towards the ocean. There was always something about all these ocean views… He stood and half-dressed himself before joining you, he almost didn’t want to break the silence and how serene everything was. Harold opted instead to simply stand with you, caressing your exposed skin, stroking the small of your back delicately. You wore a soft smile, and although you weren’t looking at him, he knew that he was where all your focus stayed. Eventually you tilted yourself, so your head rested against him – and the noise you made was of content. The silence remained for a long time, because there was nothing for either of you to say. Why say ‘I love you’ when you’d spent your night showing each other how in love you were, and how much you appreciated the opportunity to be with each other… There was something even more beautiful about you in the afterglow, but Harold wasn’t sure he could handle just telling you that yet. There was something about the time of day, about the time you’d just spent with him, all the joy that surrounded the wedding that made you speak honestly. Something had weighed on you for a long time; it wasn’t a bad weight, just a muse you were almost too scared to voice. But after everything, right now felt like the best and only time to say it. So you did. “Is it crazy to want this... for me to wish this could be us one day?” You couldn’t look at him for fear of becoming so embarrassed that you’d stammer ‘forget it’ and run from the room. That perhaps all you would see in Harold was hesitation, and it might break your heart in two right then and there. You assumed his answer; that he would chuckle at you, and be as lovely with you as ever but tell you not to be so stupid – this wasn’t to be your fate. That wasn’t what Harold said, and the silence didn’t hang because he didn’t know what to say, but because what you’d voice demanded the gravitas and respect of a real answer, a thought out answer. He took a breath, looking out to the sky as you were, before smiling and taking your hand, pulling your body into his embrace and kissing the crown of your head. He kept his voice low and gentle, as delicate with you as ever. Why had you expected anything less? “No. I don’t think it’s that crazy at all.”

---

Thanks so much for reading 😘🤗

[borhap-au]

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Comforting Joe. 

It’s been troubling two years for Joe, since his dad – his hero, his best friend, his role model, passed away. He still sometimes caught himself wanting to call him in times of trouble, and only when he couldn’t find his dad’s number on his contact list had he realized he will never be able to call him again. On daily basis Joe was caught up in other things, too busy for too much thinking, but around the time of his dad’s birthday or the anniversary of his passing, the thoughts come back again. You never dismissed his troubles, always let him cry on your shoulder, talked with him long hours about it if necessary. He confided in you, not scared of letting you know about any of his little secrets. You were generally someone who was able to lift him up, but those current times were really troubling for him. Not only did he lose his dad, but also in times of the pandemic the entire movie industry shut down, with him not being able to find a job. He didn’t star in any movie for two years, and it was hanging over his head, because he wanted to be able to provide for his family that he wanted to start with you. From all the troubles in his personal life and his career, he has experienced a writing block, not being able to write or edit any of the scrips for his future movies. Once, while checking his Twitter, he came across a thread of people hating on him, and that broke him a little. He didn’t talk much, he was rather quiet and wanted to spend more time alone. You let that go for a few days, hoping he will open up to you when he will be ready for it. Unfortunately that didn’t happen, so you decided to come to him and ask him directly about his troubles. He was hesitant at first, but then decided to let you know what was going on. It started off as usually, with him telling you how much he missed his dad.

“And you know, I should visit my mom more often. I don’t want to miss any moments with her, I’m done playing the adult role in my life, I’m done pretending I don’t need my parents and their guidance from time to time. I wanted everyone to see how independent I was, how I could handle everything on my own, and because of that I missed some of the very important moments with my dad. I should’ve visited him all the time when everything was still good,” he muttered quietly and laid his head on your legs, and you softly pet his head and shoulder. You understood him. You also lost a family member and you knew very well how that regret creeps in from time to time. At the same time you were very proud of Joe, for being able to talk about his loss, for the fact that he didn’t close it all in, and also that he let the entire world know how amazing his father was, in his posts on social media. Not many people were able to talk about their loss with such honesty. Moreover, you supported his charity work, also inspired by his father.

“So we will. We will visit her on the weekend, okay? And any time you need it,” you smiled and he looked at you. He reached his hand to your face and pet your cheek, smiling slightly. He felt your support and that was very important to him, especially in those moments.

“Are you sure about this? Those trips may be boring for you, I know you’re not really in for family meetings…” you shook your head, confirming what you’ve said before.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll go there with you. I like our little road trips,” you took his hand and laced your fingers. He pet your hand with his thumb.

“I’m happy to hear that then. I like when you go there with me. I hate not having you close. I always miss you. A lot,” you smiled, but before you could add anything, he continued. “But I also don’t want this to be a responsibility for you. We should both enjoy it equally.”

“I like going there with you. I like your mom. And I like to spend the nights in your old bedroom,” you smirked, letting him know what exactly you meant by that, also reminding him of a few very nice moments. He smiled as well, especially since you reassured him about certain things. “Even if you went alone, I’d follow you. I hate when you’re not around. Especially at night. I need to have your arm around me to feel safe, even at home,” he knew what you meant, because he also hated when he went to sleep and you weren’t there.

“Sounds like you love me,” he gave you a little smile and you immediately nodded.

“Of course I love you. With all my heart,” after all, you knew each other for a while and you were even planning the future together. Your feelings towards him didn’t change, if anything, you loved him more than before.

“Even though I’m a loser without a job?” after hearing that, you immediately hugged him tightly.

“You’re not a loser. And you have a job, your job is acting. We are just in a middle of a worldwide pandemic. Once it’s all over, you will have the Duck movie, and many more,” you smiled to him and quickly added. “And if they don’t consider you for the next Jurassic movie, I will sue those motherfuckers,” you joked and he immediately chuckled, because it was too funny for him how innocent you sounded while cursing. While he was still laughing, you continued.

“You’re one of my favorite actors, but not because I’m biased. You have a great range. From dramatic roles to comedy, you’ve nailed everything I’ve seen you in. And you’re a director too! Not to mention you write awesome scripts. If you want to, we can later do some brainstorming, maybe we will come up with another wonderful piece such as Undrafted.” He smiled when you mentioned that. He was really happy to hear that you enjoyed his movies, after all, he decided it’s you that he wants to impress for the rest of his life.

“You’re a blessing, you know? You’re amazing and gorgeous,” he smiled, petting your cheek. You chuckled quietly, because in your opinion, it was way too far-fetched to call you all those things. But he believed differently. “You make me feel better, not only about all of this, but also about myself. Seeing you always makes me think: how did I get so lucky to have you all to myself? And then I start thinking that maybe all the flaws I see in myself, maybe they don’t really matter to you. And that’s a very important thing to notice. That something that to me is a big problem, something that I believe is too visible for anyone not to notice, the same thing for you is either too small to be a problem, or not noticeable at all. It always makes me feel better.”

It was really everything you needed to hear. It was your goal to be your boyfriend’s biggest supporter, not only in a way that would be visible to others, but also to him. You wanted him to feel appreciated and loved in the relationship. You wanted to always lift him up, instead of putting him down. Life was already miserable enough in itself, and you wanted to be able to bring happiness into the life of your biggest source of joy, your man, Joey.

“As an actor,” he continued, “I am aware of every little part of my body that may not appear flattering on screen. That’s also why I turned to comedy, because it doesn’t matter how you look like on screen as long as you make others laugh. But around you, I feel like I could be right there on screen alongside all those Pitts and Goslings, and compete with them, and even win. Of course that will never happen, but I just wanted to put into words the things you make me feel,” he smiled, sat up and kissed you softly. You put your hand on his cheek, kissing him back.

“In my heart, you’ll always win with them. I don’t care about any Pitts, Goslings or anyone else, as long as I have my Mazzello. To me, you’re amazing, and handsome, and overall attractive. You’re my supermodel, my Oscar-winning actor and director, in my mind, you deserve everything that’s the best in the world, because you make my life better. And not only mine. You read all of those messages from girls telling you how much they love your movies, your comedy, your YouTube channel. You to them are what Brad Pitt is to others. Not everyone has the same taste, and to some of them, you are the perfect man. I know you are to me. You’re funny and you care about others. I don’t know what can be more attractive than a good heart. Not to mention, you really step out of your comfort zone to make others laugh. You’re such a dork sometimes. God, I love you for it,” you chuckled and you both instinctively hugged each other. There was no place better than right there, in his arms.

“You like my comedy?” he muttered, petting your back. You smiled and kissed his shoulder.

“I love it. Anytime I hear you have an idea for a new YouTube video, I literally want to see it right there and then, even if you haven’t finished it yet. I just love every single one of your projects, no matter how small. And that one video, in which you told us it was okay to make fun of you or even insult you, as long as it will make it easier for us to get through quarantine? That was so selfless and amazing, I had tears in my eyes just watching it. You’re my love, my idol, my hero, my everything, Joey. I hope you feel it every day.”

“Oh, I’m your hero now, huh? Good to know, will annoy you with that for the rest of your life,” he joked, because he didn’t really know how to respond to that. It was beautiful and overwhelming to him, but he felt happy after hearing that. You could see it in his eyes. “And since I’m a hero, then you must be my princess,” you nodded when he said that, because you always loved the pet names he had for you.

“And I can promise you, my knight in shining armor, my prince charming…”

“Your king…”

“Let’s not go that far,” you both laughed. “I promise you that everything will be okay, as long as we have each other. I’m here for you and I always will be. I swear.”

“Thank you for it. I love you, Princess,” he pet your cheek, smiling.

“I love you too…”

“King.”

“No,” once again you chuckled, and you knew that when Joe was able to crack jokes like that all the time, everything will be alright.

[twofacedbelief]

Blessed Warmth DLAMP Soulmate AU [part 2]

read on AO3

idea comes from @ravenwashere1776

Patton has always loved the four dark marks on his body, and he can’t wait for when they’ll blossom into colour as his soulmates touch him for the first time. Those four dark marks are not the only signs of his soulmates on his body, but the others are related to how they will find their soulmates. There are so many different soulmate connections, and Patton loves them all. He loves the name written out neatly on his wrist (Logan), the purple drawings and notes that sometimes covers his arm, the mark on his shoulder that will match one of them, and even the sentence that sometimes worries him; “If you don’t let go right now, I will scream.”

Roman is frustrated by how little he has to go on when it comes to finding his soulmates. Except for four different symbols, he only has a name, a sentence, and the occasional purple ink from someone who hasn’t even attempted to arrange a meeting. He wonders if the fourth one even knows that they see whatever they write. It would have been very helpful if he was able to write back, but no luck. Or he was repeatedly ignored. At least the sentence is unique; it’s definitely not every day that you hear “Eat the rich.”

Virgil is not actually sure how many soulmates he has, but it’s at least three. He doesn’t like not knowing, and he isn’t even sure what his own soulmate connection is. Whatever it is, it must be onesided, and that’s just awful. He has no idea if they hear the songs that get stuck in his head, feel when he gets hurt, can taste what he eats, or if what he doodles on his arm shows up on them. He’s honestly thankful that one of them has the sentence connection; he’s not going to be able to mistake his soulmate for the wrong person when the words are “Eat the rich.”

Logan greatly appreciates the simplicity of his soulmate connection. He has four names written out in four different handwritings; Patton, Roman, Virgil, Dee. If he ever meets someone with one of those names, it’ll be easy to inquire if they’re his soulmate.  Even in the case that it might simply be a strange coincidence, he has three ways to prove that it isn’t; the one symbol, the purple ink, and the rather rude sentence - “I’m twenty-five, bitch.”

///

Dee hasn’t thought much about soulmates since he was in high school, and he’s definitely not going to start doing it again today. It’s winter in New York, which means snows, and his heater thought it would be a brilliant idea to break during the night. Waking up in an ice-cold apartment has put him in a very bad mood, as did having to get five sweaters over his head just to get some resemblance of warmth back into his limbs. He has never been more thankful that his dad took up the knitted sweater for Christmas thing after having read the Harry Potter series.

It’s with great reluctance that he puts on his winter boots and zips up his warmest jacket. He adds a soft scarf to the ensemble too, just to be safe. He has no idea when during the night that his heater broke, but there is a very big risk that he’s been in the cold long enough to be sick. On the slim chance that he hasn’t, he’s definitely not going to risk it by going outside. He curses himself for not already owning an electric heating blanket. A space heater would probably be the better option, but it would also be more expensive and likely harder to find.

He really needs to look into getting a better job, especially since the one he has so far has denied all his transfer-requests. What’s the point of a Los Angeles office if they have him stuck at the New York one? They don’t even pay that well! Or maybe he needs to get better at budgeting. No, it’s definitely the pay that is the problem.

Dee grumbles into his scarf the whole way to the store. He sneezes from the temperature change once he enters, and starts regretting the number of layers he’s wearing. The store actually has heat, making him go from being frozen to feeling like he’s in a sauna. He’ll just have to be quick. With renewed determination, he heads towards the part of the store most likely to have the electric blanket that he so desperately needs. He rounds the corner into the right aisle just in time to see that there is only one blanket left on the shelf, and some other person is about to take it.

Normally, Dee likes to consider himself quite witty and otherwise pretty good with words. This time, he has no care for what impression he might make. He needs that blanket - he refuses to walk to another store today.

“If you don’t let go right now, I will scream.” he threatens. He probably doesn’t look like much, being only 5ft and almost drowning in the layers he’s wearing, but he’s not going to let the blanket go without a fight.

“Oh thank god, I don’t need to call the cops!” the stranger replies, relief obvious in their tone. It’s not the answer that Dee had expected, but the words are strangely familiar to him.

Ah. Soulmate. That makes sense. It also doesn’t make his day better in any way, because he still needs that blanket.

“I’m still going to scream if you don’t give me that blanket.”

“I’ll buy it for you,” the stranger offers. “My name is Patton.”

“Dee. I can pay for my own blanket.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Dee. I live with the rest of our soulmates if you would like to meet them.”

Patton both sounds and looks nice, and during any other circumstances, Dee would probably enjoy teasing him. This isn’t any other circumstance though, and Dee is barely aware of the conversation. His eyes are locked on the blanket that Patton is still holding. He thinks they might be moving in the direction of the check-out, but he’s honestly not sure.

“You could come over now,” Patton continues. “Everyone is at home. Or we could exchange numbers! I just can’t believe that we finally found you.”

///

Dee thinks that he must have agreed to come with Patton, as next thing he knows, they’re standing in the elevator of a much nicer apartment building than the one he lives in. He’s cradling a bag protectively, so he can only assume that Patton did buy him the blanket. He hopes he remembered to say thanks, as it would be far too awkward to suddenly show gratitude now.

The elevator stops. Patton leads him out of it, and towards a door at the end of the hallway. The door is open, and he remembers Patton saying that the other soulmates would be there. It’s very strange to go out for a blanket and end up meeting not one, but all four of his soulmates, Dee thinks.

He awkwardly enters after Patton; the apartment is quite big, and it definitely has a functioning heater. If possible, he would love to just take a nap before having to go through the whole we’re soulmates but we four already have a relationship and you’re an outlier thing. It’s pretty negative of him to think that way, but it’s hard not to, what with the four actually living together. Either they’ve known each other for years, or their pre-existing dynamic is amazing. Dee doesn’t want to get in their way.

“You need to stop taking in children.” a new voice says, and Dee looks up to see a man dressed in a black button-up with a dark blue tie, and jeans. His hair is slicked back, and Dee thinks he can see one real tattoo peeking out from his rolled-up sleeves. The row of names on his wrist immediately tells him that this must be Logan.

“I’m twenty-five, bitch.” Dee says. It’s not the most polite way to introduce himself to a soulmate, but he doesn’t appreciate being called a child just because he’s short in comparison. He’s also definitely starting to suspect that he has a fever. It would be a really good idea to take off his jacket.

“My name is Logan, not bitch.” Logan answers in a deadpan tone that makes Dee giggle into his scarf. He’s strangely proud over the fact that he’s the reason that Logan has bitch written somewhere on his skin.

Patton is unwinding Dee’s scarf for him, having already taken off his own outerwear. Dee would feel embarrassed, but he thinks he has a right to be overwhelmed by everything that is happening. Especially when a new person peeks out from the kitchen. Their skin is a lovely shade of light brown, their hair is a styled mess of reddish curls, and Dee thinks he spots a golden septum piercing.

“Do I need to defend your honour?” the person jokes, their voice warm like honey. They step further into the hallway, and Dee gets a proper look at the sweater that they’re wearing. It’s a nice shade of red, with a golden crown on it. A golden crown that sparkles. Princey is stitched in cursive writing underneath the crown. Maybe a nickname. It would be stupid if the person was a real prince. The states might not have a royal family, but other countries do, and they get money for what - doing nothing? Being born royal? It’s absolute bullshit, in Dee’s opinion. There are much better things the money could go towards, like the homeless.

“Eat the rich.” is what Dee states, instead of voicing any of those thoughts. He looks down as he registers what he said. Huh, Patton had taken the bag from him. He’s not even wearing his jacket any longer. When did that happen? Maybe he should take off his shoes.

“Ooh, I like him!” a fourth voice calls. Dee looks up, but he doesn’t really see anything but a blur of black and purple.

Even without his scarf and jacket, he’s still feeling far too warm. He’s not sure if it’s the layers of sweaters or the fever he most definitely has. His eyelids feel heavy; a nap has never seemed like such a good idea before. This is really not how he wanted his first meeting with his soulmates to go, but it’s too late to do anything about that.

“I just wanted a goddamn heated blanket.” Dee sighs. His eyes close and he feels his body start to fall, too exhausted to stand up any longer.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Legend of the Six has now been updated!

Chapter 23: Daughter of Shadow

Words: 5032 

AO3 Link

When we are little, we are taught that the darkness is scary.

Children hide from it under the comforts of pillows and blankets, men shield themselves from it with torches and lanterns, and the general public escape it through dreams and sleep. From the day we are born to the day we die, we are told to fear the Dark, and the creatures that live amongst it. It’s personified as the unknown, as the wicked, as the evil. The Dark, many claim, cannot be trusted, nor can it be utilized without misfortune.

The many, to Anne Boleyn, are considered fools.

Ever since she was a little girl - even with the scary stories of the Darkness being evil and Light being good - Anne Boleyn constantly sought for a second opinion. It’s not that she didn’t trust the stories; far from it, as she had seen what the dark could do. But she’s also seen it do wonders: it hides her from an ambush when she’s younger, it reveals foolish enemies positions that don’t know how to control their shadows, and it is a comfort, still, when late at night. After all, Anne argues, the darkness is the reason why we are in awe of the stars. That’s got to count for something, right?

As she continued down this path of Darkness, she came to befriend it in a unique way. Shadows would race to her to say hello, like old friends. The Darkness often wrapped around her like a cloak, a better shield than the ones the finest blacksmiths of the Realm could make. She extended a hand to the dark and found that it not only accepted, but embraced her as their own. And she was happier for it.

Of course, her friendship didn’t go unnoticed; it’s what started the rumors in court to begin with. Many in the court would talk ill of her friends, of the comforts she held that were so unique and against the grain that people thought it scary. She was shunned by many in the courts - all afraid of this girl that could control the darkness, calling her a Servant to it, a thrall. To many, Anne was cursed, and her regency should never had seen the light of day.

Unluckily for them (and, eventually, for her), Henry wasn’t afraid of the dark either.

Anne came to understand this as she was on the run from a particularly unyielding suitor. She hid in the shadows, in the garden, waiting for the man to pass. He hadn’t seen her, and in his drunken stupor, had started calling for her quite loudly. This resulted in unwanted attention. Anne had chuckled as the man was immediately yelled at by the King himself, thoroughly embarrassed and berated in the middle of the night by such an important figure in the Realm. She expected the guy to turn tail and run, which he did.

What she DIDNT expect was for the King himself to suddenly turn and face her. Her, hidden by the darkness that she knew so well.

He looked curious, as if struggling to see her, but seeing her all the same. He called for her to appear, to not be afraid. He wasn’t afraid of the dark either, he said. He knew she wasn’t either. Perhaps they could make a habit of finding each other in the shadows in the night, perhaps they could chat about their experiences with the Dark, perhaps they could be friends.

It didn’t take too long for Anne to realize he meant something a little more than just friends.

The marriage between Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII was going rather swimmingly, at least according to anyone that looked: Catherine had just saved the world from evildoers in the South, and Henry had applauded his wife’s work. The Realm rejoiced in such a decisive victory over the enemy that day, and had even strengthened their allyship with Holbein in the process; a two for one victory that the history books were to celebrate for centuries, if all had gone to plan.

But, as Anne would later find out in their midnight rendezvous, he thought he could do more. His wife was, of course, a formidable person in battle, but the Darkness isn’t that scary. It got a bad reputation because of the Blessed that defeated the enemies in the South, he said. Why couldn’t his wife see that the darkness wasn’t something to banish, but to wield? 

To Anne, this made perfect sense because of the darkness that she knew, the darkness she assumed they were talking about. It resulted in resentment towards the (at the time, current) queen, especially when Henry finally gave her the chance to be the Blessed Aragon’s lady in waiting not too long afterwards. Anne didn’t see then that it was a way to groom her for the throne; instead, she simply thought he wanted someone in his corner, someone that understood the Dark for what it really was.

And she played right into his hands perfectly.

At least, for a while.

It was later, when Catherine was “killed,” when she saw Jane Seymour enter the picture, that Anne realized that maybe he wasn’t a friend of the dark like she thought he was.

For one, he never was able to hide well, not from anyone. The darkness that was easy to sink into when she was alone or with Maggie or even with Catherine and Maria was not as such when he was around; it was like the Darkness rebuked him, didn’t want him near it. Didn’t claim him as their own the way that they had claimed Anne all those years ago. In her want to be queen and in her want to have someone that understood her, she ignored it; there was just something about Henry that made her want to ignore what she thought she knew. He had that way about him, a way that made her want to believe in what he said.

So when he told her to go on the road that fateful day, she had no idea what was coming.

Maria hadn’t been acting any different than usual, for example, and it was in the middle of the day when it happened. Anne was completely unsuspecting until just before the ambush occurred; at that point, her shadow gave her away. For a while, it was the shadows that was her most trusted ally as she hid, refusing to be found until she absolutely had to. 

She survived because of the Shadows. They had given her so much. But now, it seems, they were asking something of her.

Who was she to refuse?

So she sits, in front of the woman, head bowed respectfully. The woman smiles softly at the girl in front of her, as if greeting an old friend. Anne suspects she knows more about Anne than she lets on, but it’s disrespectful to ask.

“I see that you’re ready now,” she says. “To become my champion.” She nods, standing up. “It’ll be a tough road ahead of you, if you choose to embrace my gifts.”

“You have given me so much, my lady,” Anne says quietly, respectfully. “I am but an agent of your will.”

The woman looks over at Maggie, who is still bowing with her head down. She gently lifts the girl’s head up with a soft grin.

“You won’t be needed here,” the woman says, “but I won’t deny you the opportunity to observe the trial. No, you’ve done just as much as her, and I like you almost as much, but she is the Champion for a reason.”

Maggie doesnt dare look the woman in the eye, instead nodding respectfully. “I am in awe of your graciousness, my lady,” she says, a bit of a tremble in her voice. She’s a bit nervous. 

The woman smiles and offers Maggie her hand. Maggie takes it. “You may look me in the eye, you know,” the woman says. “We’re all friends here.”

Maggie does so after a moment, and she’s a bit calmer now. This doesn’t feel as formal as she thought it was going to be, but then again, the Shadows have always been somewhat misleading. 

The woman turns back to Anne, who hasn’t moved from her spot. “My Champion,” she says, sitting down in front of Anne. “You will start your Trial immediately. Should you pass, you shall become my Keeper. Should you fail… well, the outcome depends on how you do that.” She shrugs, a hand wistfully circling in the air, forming some sort of bowl with smoking black substance in it. “Drink. And you shall begin.”

Anne nods, looking back at Maggie with a smile. “I’ll be back.”

Maggie nods, still a bit nervous. “I know you will.”

And with that, Anne takes the bowl and drinks it down.

It doesn’t taste like a lot of anything, but the texture of it is vile to say the least; it feels like something is fighting to go down into her stomach, as if it had a mind of its own. She winces at the feeling, squeezing her eyes shut as the bowl, too, dissolves into the substance and enters her.

She steadies herself, feeling how the substance affects her. Her hands, now empty, fall to her sides, and she focuses. She can feel everything else falling away, can feel herself sinking deeper and deeper and deeper…

… until she’s nowhere at all.

She’s floating in nothing.

It’s dark, and it’s comfortable. She opens her eyes and sees nothing. She floats aimlessly, like in a calm river of sorts, and smiles softly; this was nice. Not really what she expected, if she was being honest, but she’ll take what she can get.

Just as she thinks that, however, she immediately feels herself drop. Now, she’s freefalling into nothing. It’s nothing too terrible, but there seems to be something… darker… just below her now. She yelps, tenses, gets ready for the impact-

-but it never comes. Instead, she’s standing still, on the darker darkness.

She looks around, curious about what’s  happening.

“Hello?” she asks. She doesn’t hear anything - no echo, no voice returning her call. It’s getting a bit cold, too, as she walks further and further into this new darkness. The shadows from before, when she was floating, were what she was comfortable with. This… was not.

Not bad, just different, and incredibly unsettling when she wasn’t used to it. 

She continues through, unseeing, and she wonders if she’s missed something, if she’s already lost the trial. There’s no real purpose to this at the moment, she realizes, and she thinks maybe she needs to do something. Maybe she’s waiting on herself.

With a deep breath, she stops walking, extending a hand above her. She closes her eyes, takes another big breath, and summons the darkness she knows so well.

Usually, it would result in the room getting darker… but that’s not the case. Not now. Her darkness is brighter than this darkness, and the comfort she’s felt for over two decades returns to her. And now, with a smile, she listens to her goddess:

“Your trial begins now, oh contested Champion. I hope you are prepared.”

Anne nods, feeling herself being tugged away and pulled impossibly fast to an impossibly far distance in the shadows - lightyears away from where she was, but also right next door. She eventually stops where she is, and her eyes adjust to the light in front of her.

She’s got solid ground below her. She’s in a hallway. It’s dark and cold and wet. It’s clear that the only light in this area has been the blue torches that dimly illuminate the area. She’s not sure where she is, but she knows she needs to continue. 

She moves forward steadily, but as she does, she starts to hear things - a voice?

“Hello?”

Not her goddess’, either.

Her hand goes to her side, where her trusted daggers would be, but they are not there now. She instead moves to the side, using her shadows to protect and cloak herself as she pushes forward. She hears the voice again, this time coming from the end of the hallway.

Someone’s here. Someone that’s definitely real.

She turns into the room, warily at first, but then she realizes who it is and raises and eyebrow.

“Catherine?!?”

Catherine is indeed there, looking around, very confused. When she spots Anne, though, she instantly rushes over to her.

“What’s going on?” Catherine asks, frowning. “I was just headed into the town we were headed into before you left and… and now I’m here.”

“You were Claimed for a time,” says a voice, one that isn’t either of theirs. “You have been Unclaimed. But now you’re Claimed again.”

Catherine seems to recognize the voice, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “In what way?”

“The Light knows what is happening,” says the voice, reassuring in tone. “And they know why you’re here. They know I won’t keep you any longer than necessary, and they know you won’t be harmed.”

Catherine seems to relax a bit then, but she’s still a bit confused. “I don’t know why I’m here, though.”

“You’re… well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Anne mumbles, a bit embarrassed. “But you’re my guide.”

Catherine blinks. “Your what?”

“In the Trials of the Shadows,” Anne explains, “we get a person that can’t be seen by the Trial, but the Chosen can see and interact with them. Someone that we have a strong connection with. Someone that’s important in our life story. Someone that the Woman chooses.”

“And… she chose me?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“We both did, it’s kind of a mutual agreement decision sort of thing,” Anne replies. “Well, most of the time. It’s my soul choosing who it is, and the Woman consenting to manifest it- it’s a long story. Not enough time, if we want to get out of here before the Festival in a few weeks.” Anne sighs, a hand running through her hair. “What you need to know is that I need someone to guide me, to help me through the tough road ahead.” She doesn’t dare look Catherine in the eye for the next part. “It seems that both myself and my mistress are in agreement that if anyone can get me through this, it’s you.”

Catherine smiles. “Well, seeing as I’ve nothing better to do-”

But the jokes stop, suddenly, as the room around them changes.

They’re suddenly in a chamber, one that’s familiar and not at the same time. It’s clearly night, but the moon is not the moon; it’s moreso a ball of energy, as if it was made of arcanic magick rather than a celestial body.

Anne moves into the room a bit more, observing quietly.

“Isn’t this the castle?” Catherine asks quietly, looking out the nearby window. It’s a town made of shadows, but a familiar town nonetheless. “This is Henry’s castle in the Capitol… but I don’t know this room.”

Anne frowns. “Me either, at least, not yet,” she looks around and tilts her head, looking down at the nearby desk. She looks at the papers, picking some up and looking through them, just in time for Catherine to meet her there.

“Anything?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“Just notes about certain military movements and plans,” Anne says, continuing to look through. “These look to be from my time as queen, or at least near that time-”

They both look up, however, when they hear someone unlocking the door.

“They can’t see me, but-” Catherine starts, though Anne is already ahead of her. She instantly moves to the shadows, hiding herself. Catherine simply watches as the door opens. She cringes a bit - the person is covered with shadow, their true form unable to be seen. 

They walk towards the desk, looking through papers before eventually picking up a blank one and writing on it. They continue to write, and Anne gets a better look at the paper. She narrows her eyes and, while avoiding detection, moves towards the back of the room, farthest from the door. 

Just as she does, another person enters the room - this time, Catherine gasps.

“Maria!”

Maria can’t hear her, of course, and the scene continues without interruption. 

Maria stands in front of the shadowed figure, bowing slightly.

Both Anne and Catherine wince when the shadowed figure starts talking - their voice is cloaked in a thousand others, distorted and underwater and barely even hearable yet blaring all at once. 

Maria, however, doesn’t seem to have an issue hearing them, resulting in a one-way conversation that Catherine and Anne can hear.

“Of course, I understand,” Maria says with a nod. She looks down at the paper that is handed to her, studying it carefully. Maria sets her jaw a bit before she nods slowly. There’s a moment before she tenses, looking up at the shadowy figure, clearly angry.

“I have not forgotten the promise I made,” Maria growls. “Not to her. Catherine shall not have died in vain.”

The confliction on Maria’s face makes Catherine’s heart break. 

Maria nods, salutes, and leaves the room. As soon as the door closes, the shadowy figure suddenly snaps their attention straight to Anne.

Anne’s gasp is only for a moment, as the figure rushes her, and suddenly she’s consumed by it.

“Anne!” Catherine yells, but the world is turning again, and despite her concern, another scene is playing out.

Anne, barely on her feet, moves to hide again, but… something’s changed. Something’s starting. Anne is more tense as the next scene happens, this time with the shadowy figure and a eerie green light.

Another person arrives - a magick practitioner in the castle, Catherine assumes - and speaks:

“Once we have someone to accept the terms, necromancy will be firmly in our war arsenal,” he says, looking down at a paper. “We’ve managed to connect the dots on this fairly quickly, thanks to the research at the Heart. And because of that, we may be able to control corrupted Light and Shadows easily enough in a few years.”

“They what-?” Catherine asks, but suddenly Anne is once again attacked by a shadow, once again forced to absorb it. “Anne!” Catherine yells, moving over to the girl as she falls to her knees.

Anne is gasping for air, but is clearly furious. “I can feel it,” she growls out. “The frustration, the anger, the power… it’s all here.” She holds up her hand. “This is how it would feel. To go unchecked. To be consumed… by the rage… of the past…”

Catherine frowns. “But that’s not what the Darkness is, is it? It’s not rage, it’s not power. It’s something else, isn’t it?” It’s something Catherine doesn’t totally understand, but she gets this much; it’s very similar to her own understanding of the Light.

Anne growls out, looking down at her hands as they burn with darkness. She feels it crawling around her skin, no longer the comfortable calm that she’s used to, but with newfound purpose. Anger. Betrayal. All of it. It’s feeding into her emotions, into her magicks.

Catherine sees the trial for what it really is, just in time for the scene to change again.

They’re in a room, and now Maria is back. Catherine ignores her feelings for the time being as she hears the conversation.

“It’s done,” Maria says bitterly. “She’s dead.”

The shadowed figure turns around, says things they don’t understand, and Maria nods.

“I’ll be sure to keep this in mind,” she says quietly. “For the Realm.”

Again, the shadow figure snaps her attention to Anne… but this time, Catherine steps in, quickly shielding Anne from the figure.

Catherine yelps as she absorbs it instead… but now, her Light seems to overpower it.

For now.

“Anne,” Catherine says, a bit winded by the event. Anne, for her part, is glaring at Maria, but Catherine breaks the line of sight. “Anne. Remember. This is a trial. What are all of these things doing to you?”

“They’re…” Anne growls a bit. “They’re making me angry. Angrier than I’ve ever felt.”

“Okay, and why would they want to do that? What is happening with the Darkness you’re feeling?”

Anne focuses on it, only for a moment, before her thoughts immediately go to the Maria in front of her. She’s right there, for the taking, easily killed at this angle…

“Anne, answer me.”

She looks back at Catherine. “It’s not actually Darkness,” Anne growls out. “It’s not comforting. This energy, it enhances your darkest thoughts. Your fears. Your anger-”

Anne tries to pulse towards Maria, but Catherine quickly stops it.

“Anne, focus.” Catherine says. “You can’t let this overtake you. Focus on me: why are they showing you these things? What’s the goal?”

“To make me angry,” Anne growls, struggling in Catherine’s grasp. Maria’s so close, she could almost touch her.

“Is that all?” Catherine asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s struggling to keep Anne at bay, but she’ll do it for as long as it takes to help her.

“What the fuck do you mean, is that all, it’s-!” she starts, but then her eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh, shit, oh-”

“What?” Catherine asks, clearly confused, but then the shadowed figure appears again. Anne immediately turns her attention to it, quick to suddenly pull Catherine behind her with some unseen shadows, and instantly moves to grab the shadowed figure.

Anne narrows her eyes as the shadowed figure whips their head around to face Anne, but Anne shakes her head.

“Not this time,” she says, smirking. “It was a distraction. You were always good at those. And you’re here, because you’re my weakness. You’re the reason I can’t move on, you’re the reason I can’t grow. You, and what you stand for to me.”

She grabs a torch nearby, and this time throws it at the shadowed figure.

The shadows retreated from the form, and the true terror appeared. 

Her hair as blonde as before, blue piercing eyes now tinted with green energy as the new staff she wielded resulted in a pulsing energy that made Anne want to run. She looks on with wide eyes as the woman, over and over again, summons monstrosities, clearly attempting to overrun Anne right then and there.

Anne practically growls.

“Jane fucking Seymour.”

The figure in question certainly looked like the Keeper of Necromancy, but with one distinct difference - her eyes were not normal, but instead pulsing with darkness, with eerie energy that Anne had to look away from at the moment. She shivers at the coldness that’s so apparent she can feel it, but then a warm hand holds on her shoulder and she looks up at Catherine.

“This is the trial, then.” Catherine says, so matter-of-factly that it helps calm Anne somewhat. Anne looks up, managing to overcome her own fear of the corruption before her, and nods. Catherine nods back. “Go on, then.”

Anne moves away, towards the corruption, taking a deep breath as she does so. She suddenly pulses forward, moving past the shadowy monstrosities and immediately to Jane, but the girl dodges so fast that Anne can’t react to the counterattack. Suddenly, Anne has a knife through her stomach, though it quickly dissolves into shadows as she’s released. She falls to the floor, huffing in pain, as she practically growls at Jane, who backs up and readies herself for another onslaught.

“Direct attacks won’t work,” Catherine says.

“You think I don’t know that?” Anne asks, right as she pulses forward again. This time, instead of straight on attack Jane, she uses the shadows to dissolve into cover…

… or at least, she thought she did, right before Jane plucks her out of the darkness and once again stabs her with a dagger that fades into shadows.

Anne yelps again, and this time, she falls to her knees. She holds her abdomen, coughing up blood, before she looks down at the wound. It’s festering with corrupted darkness.

And that gives her an idea.

“What else do you have?” Catherine asks, at the woman’s side as Anne shakily stands up. Anne seems to be focused, so Catherine steps aside. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t think you can take another one of those stabs.”

“Don’t worry,” Anne says. “I won’t need another chance.”

She pulses forward, straight on. Catherine’s heart drops; did Anne suddenly forget this was what she did at first?

Jane readies her dagger, and just as she thrusts it into Anne… it suddenly stops. It all stops. All the monsters, all the magicks Jane conjured. They all just… stop.

Catherine looks over to find that Anne’s eyes are not her own - they’re filled with darkness. At first, Catherine thought the girl had lost, that she was corrupted like Jane’s magicks, but when Anne suddenly thrust her hand into the sky and Jane immediately did the same thing, Catherine realized what was happening.

Of course, Catherine thought, feeling a little stupid for not realizing it before. She can control shadows!

Indeed, Anne was now controlling Jane’s movements, Jane’s actions, all of it. The darkness around them was no long being passive in the fight; Anne was forcing it to move with her, at her command, and Jane was powerless to stop it.

This, Catherine realized, was the true power of a Keeper of the Shadows. This was the potential of the Queen of Shadows.

Anne immediately pulses backwards, but Jane still can’t move. Anne lifts her hands - Jane doesn't follow this time, Anne’s holding her in place - and Anne suddenly has chains connected to Jane’s wrists. The end of the chains are in Anne’s hands, and she smirks as she suddenly slams them into the ground, making Jane fall as well. Keeping the chains in one hand, Anne uses her other one to command the shadows to clear out the monsters around them, wiping them into oblivion, before focusing back on the Jane in front of her.

With a final wince, Anne takes the energy that she could feel around the wound and harnesses it herself. Instead of it infecting her body, she now controlled it as she formed it into a spear and threw it back at Jane, cracking her heart and thrusting them all into pale moonlight that blinded the area for a second.

The corrupted dark gives way to pale moonlight, and that Jane is on her knees. She looks up and her eyes are her own. 

Anne’s blade pulses with the warm type of darkness that Anne is familiar with.

Anne looks down at the girl, and Jane looks up. She’s crying, eyes wide at the blade. She doesn’t say anything, however, as she bows her head.

“What is this?” Anne asks, but she keeps her gaze on Jane.

Catherine looks around. “Looks like the forests near the castle in the Capitol, honestly,” Catherine says. “I recognize this clearing. The bridge to the courtyard is only a few yards away.”

“And why is she giving herself over to me?” Anne asks, her hand tightening on her blade as her body stiffens.

Silence. Then, Catherine:

“I think you’ve a choice to make, Keeper of the Shadows.”

Anne continues her focus on the neck. She continues to remember. She continues to feel.

And she raises the blade and thrusts it down, hitting her mark. 

Instead of a scream, or a head rolling, the figure immediately bursts into darkness, fading into the darkness around it. There’s suddenly a stronger darkness - a Void of sorts - and Catherine and Anne are pulled into it. The darkness is suffocating for Catherine, whose light suddenly is snuffed out, but Anne seems to revel in it, like it’s a cool refreshing drink. 

When she opens her eyes again, however, she finds the Woman and Maggie standing over her.

Maggie smiles, but she’s clearly scared. “Annie?”

Anne takes a deep breath, then smiles. “I’m ok. We’re all ok.” She looks up at the Woman. “Was that satisfactory, my lady?”

“Just about what I expected,” the Woman replies. “But I think you’re ready regardless.”

Anne stands and, just as she goes to bow again, the Woman puts her hand on Anne’s heart and mind. Suddenly, Anne can feel a cool yet warm sensation coming from the hands that pressed against her, and her eyes faded into darkness for a moment before they returned to normal. She takes a deep breath and, suddenly, she feels more alive than ever.

When the Woman steps back, Anne instinctually puts a hand on her heart and head, just before she summons a shadow dagger in her hands.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Anne says. She then takes a deep breath and focuses on the energy; it forms into a darkened fireball of sorts, then a gauntlet, then an arrow. She smirks as she then puts the energy into her other hand, back into the dagger, and takes a step back into the shadows. She completely disappears then; not even Maggie could sense her.

She ends up behind the Woman, who doesn’t seem surprised to see her, but smiles. “I trust your new arsenal is to your satisfaction, my champion and my Keeper of Shadows?”

Anne’s eyes go wide at the title and she smiles widely, but she immediately shows respect, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Mistress.”

The Woman nods. “Pray you continue to do my will, though you are not bound to it. That’s not how I operate, unlike some others.”

That got Anne thinking. “Where did Catherine go?”

“The Blessed? She’s back in her body. She had some issues with a Fae, but I saved her.” The Woman smiles. “She helped my Champion in her trial, I saved her from being stolen away by the Fae. I consider us even - well, myself and her Goddess.”

Anne nods. “I’ll be sure to tell them to be careful moving forward. Thank you, my Mistress.” She looks back over at Maggie, who nods. “We need to go. The place where they are, it’s a Fae Lands. They’re going to need all the help they can get.”

Maggie nods. “After you.”

They rush off.

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

South Korean music industry at a glance: an outsider perspective

I watched one particular AMV last week. The song used for the video was “I’m afraid” by Korean rock band DAY6. I was pleasantly surprised as someone who values lyrics in song first and foremost. The music itself was great. I’ll listen to their songs again. It’s a nice fit for my music taste. Naturally, YouTube’s algorithm decided that I’m a fan of everything Korean after 1 video and started spamming my recommendations with k-pop songs, documentaries and everything in-between. 

I watched a couple of videos, listened to some songs and discovered fascinating patterns. So, I went down to the comment section. And it was rather interesting experience, should I say? The concept of entertainment industry in South Korea simply begged to be explored more after this. I dug deeper and visited Tumblr k-pop tags and briefly glanced upon Instagram and Twitter. And, oh...

I am a big picture person and I enjoy both studying and creating systems. This one was particularly fun to explore. I discovered a lot of new things for myself. Perhaps, you can discover something new for yourself too or take a step back and look at this from a new angle. 

Disclaimer: it’s impossible not to offend someone on Tumblr, so keep that in mind. That being said, I do NOT intend to insult of offend anyone. It’s just a little research done for fun, because I love research with a purpose. This post is NOT A HATE post. No hate intended for fans, artists or other people involved. It’s meant to be a discussion, nothing more and nothing less. If it sounds like hate, it’s just my sarcastic sense of humour.

Content Warning: I mention suicide, death, depression, rape in a couple of sentences. There’s nothing major or graphic, but it’s there. 

In this long post I decided to share with you my opinion, a so-called outsider perspective, on the world of music entertainment industry in South Korea and people involved in it on different levels. I use the word “outsider” mainly because, that’s exactly what I am in this case, as someone who is in no way involved in k-pop community. I can’t name you a single band or their members. I don’t know any solo artist and can’t neither sing nor name you any song. 

And to be completely honest, I don’t think I will set my foot into k-pop fan-circles ever again after everything I saw. 

Think of this as “In this essay I will...” meme, except there’s an actual essay.

As far as I know, in South Korea “k-pop” refers to all music produced in SK, including solo artists, various bands, singers-songwriters. It doesn’t even have to be pop music. Koreans include in this definition all genres of music. However, around the world “k-pop” means primarily music made by idol groups and bands marketed for children, teenagers and younger people. In this post I use the latter definition, because that’s how most people understand “k-pop” in other countries. Therefore, my statements, opinions and conclusions here would concern only idol music. 

The music industry in South Korea is heavily influenced by culture and traditions of the country, just like all things are. And there’s nothing wrong with that. After all, different backgrounds are what makes people so interesting and unique. However, when combined with consumer mindset, desire to generate profit at any cost and fast-paced nature of modern life these neutral cultural elements could produce something concerning, and it can lead to disastrous consequences. 

1. Idol

These people are called artists, musicians, singers, bands, groups, performers. In South Korea and in Japan, however, people call them Idols or Stars. I’ve also seen Muses, Princes and Queens. Interesting, isn’t it? The terminology used to describe these musicians in South Korea is one of the key elements in this whole entertainment system. You’ll see why.

But who or what is an idol exactly? Let’s take a basic definition from Wikipedia.

“In the practice of religion, a cult image or devotional image is a human-made object that is venerated or worshipped for the deity, person, spirit or daemon ... that it embodies or represents. In several traditions, including the ancient religions of Egypt, Greece and Rome, and modern Hinduism, cult images in a temple may undergo a daily routine of being washed, dressed, and having food left for them. Processions outside the temple on special feast days are often a feature. Religious images cover a wider range of all types of images made with a religious purpose, subject, or connection. In many contexts "cult image" specifically means the most important image in a temple, kept in an inner space, as opposed to what may be many other images decorating the temple.

The term idol is often synonymous with worship cult image. In cultures where idolatry is not viewed negatively, the word idol is not generally seen as pejorative, such as in Indian English.”

Cambridge Dictionary defines idol as follows:

And here’s the definition from Oxford Dictionary: 

This is a centrepiece of this tapestry. Surely, you have noticed by now what these definitions have in common. 

Idol = a cult image of a god, a deity 

By calling these musicians “idols” industry makes society and audience treat them in certain way, namely as gods. What characteristics do gods possess? They are beautiful, talented, funny, confident and graceful, blessed by eternal youth of immortality. Gods have no flaws, they do not bleed, they are above human concerns. They are an embodiment of perfection. They are stars, you could not reach. 

But real people are not like that. They can be sad and angry, insecure. People don’t have perfectly symmetrical faces. They can’t dance in sync without preparation. They can’t sing like angels at any given moment throughout the day.

What happens when idols accidentally reveal their humanity? What happens when people see, that they make mistakes and do stupid things, that they need to train hard to appear graceful on stage? 

I will tell you. And it’s not pretty. But, first, let’s look at other elements of this system. 

2. Y/N and Self-insert fantasy

Aside from the music, K-pop sells the self-insert fantasy to the audience. It’s carefully arranged to appear real, where the cracks are masked and every word is scripted. The reality is so vivid that one doesn’t even have to use imagination all that much, because all scenarios and decorations already exist. Countless interviews for TV and magazines, fan meetings, talk shows, reality shows made sure people are privy to all juicy details of personal lives and opinions of musicians. And also one word - merchandise. Some of that merch made me question my life choices. Some of it is, ah, creepy or has weird vibes. All of this provides plenty of material for people to work with. Fans can effortlessly imagine themselves beside their idols or even in their place. 

In a highly competitive society, where people throw themselves into studying and work since young age, forming deep and lasting connections with others is very hard, sometimes impossible. As a result, people long to have a group of close friends with similar interests, a loving partner who would cherish them endlessly. People want to be rewarded for their backbreaking efforts to succeed by the carefree life of fame and music, everlasting friendships and love. And in a way you can’t really blame them for his. 

Does this dream life sound familiar? We are looking at K-pop bands here. It doesn’t really matter if their members don’t always get along or that they can live in debt, that fame is fickle and adoring fans can tear your self-confidence to shreds. Audience wants the glamour of fantasy and the industry is more than happy to cater to these desires. 

Perhaps, knowing that even for idols this fantasy is sometimes unattainable makes the whole set up feel just a little cruel. 

3. Fans, stans and fandom culture

We’ve already established earlier that idols are gods in the eyes of people and listed traits they must possess. So, what else do gods need to exist? Worshippers. Because a cult is worth nothing without its followers. Gods need a group of people to worship them and spread their beliefs. The role of worshippers is performed by a fans in this case. 

Apparently, there is a running joke that girl groups need to win a general public popularity and boy bands need a big passionate fandom. It seems to be true according to my observations. 

In k-pop fandom people use the word “stan” to state that they like or support particular group. Now, I am sure everyone here knows that in other fandoms, dedicated to movies, shows, books and games there’s an important distinction between being a “fan” and a “stan”. What is it? 

A fan is someone who likes a ship or character, creates and/or consumes fandom content, supports certain ideas, discusses things they enjoyed and disliked, criticises canon. Stans, however, are a different breed. They engage in all typical fandom activities, but their support and enjoyment becomes obsession. Stans believe their favourite characters and ships are immune to criticism, that they are superior no matter what others say. Stans start shipping wars, send anon hate, death threats over fictional characters and hurt real people. Stans are considered toxic fans. And majority of normal civilised people don’t like them and try their best to let stans hang out in their echo chamber by themselves. 

In other fandoms and communities, to be a fan means to love, support and enjoy something, while to stan means to obsess over and hyperfixate on these same things. Words “I stan” rarely mean “I support” for most people, and if they do mean that, it’s only used in a joking manner (”We stan procrastination legend!”, “I stan our miscommunication kings”).

Everywhere else “stan” has only negative connotations, except in k-pop. But what has changed? What’s the difference? Why do international fans scoff at “shipper stans” and then turn around calling themselves “stans of X k-pop group” at the same time? Does it make you wonder? 

And this is another core theme of k-pop, in my opinion. In fandom where stan = obsession = support, you can see interesting patterns. 

Fandom loves their flawless gods. But watching them from afar is not enough for some people, because unlike deities in different religions, these gods live among us. People are very much aware of that. Industry has created a cult and laid the groundwork for worshippers to express their adoration in every way including personal contact. And who wouldn’t want to meet their god? Who wouldn’t want to know more about them or tell them how much you love them? In talk shows and fan meetings there is only so much one can do after all.

People desire to know more, to have more so much that their obsession transforms into concerning stalker tendencies. These crazy individuals follow idols, stalk them on social media, in hotels, research flight numbers, bribe security. Musicians were attacked and poisoned. I strongly suspect there were cases of rape that no one knows about. There is even a special term for these fans - “sasaeng”. 

Is there a definition for stalkers of actors or musicians in western world? No, I’m pretty sure there isn’t. They are just called “invasive/obsessive fans” or “stalkers”.

Also, there are sasaeng memes. Yeah, you heard that right. I enjoy some classy dark humour as much as the next person, but there is a fine line between normal and questionable. 

Back to the topic of stalkers. Do you realise how disturbing that is? Such behaviour is so common that there is a term for it. You create a fandom-cult, encourage people to worship k-pop idols as gods and then act surprised when members of said cult become fanatics and their adoration becomes obsession.

And it’s so easy to step on this slippery road. The system makes it ridiculously easy. Lines begin to blur. How much is too much? Where do you draw the line? 

While sasaeng fans engage in extreme real-life obsession, people online aren’t that far off, to be honest. I’ve seen it all: imagines, headcanons, fanfiction, real-person shipping, reactions. Real person shipping is a controversial topic. Some people support it, others don’t. I suppose I’m among those who don’t get it. I’m not exactly against it, but I find it strange. Mainly because it’s based on assumptions made by fans about personalities and behaviour of real people. 

Assumptions. Dear me! K-pop fandom has this thing with video compilations. I’ve never seen this phenomenon being so widespread in any other community or fandom. Basically people edit together a collection of short clips from talk-shows, interviews, Instagram stories, some YouTube videos, etc and then proceed to analyse every gesture, word, facial expression of idols and provide both audio and on-screen commentary. These videos and many other forms of similar analysis allow people to imagine what kind of personalities idols have, what kind of life do they live. It’s the source material for fanfiction, imagines and headcanons. 

But it’s not real. It’ll never be real. It’s an illusion, an image, a stage persona. They fall in love with a face and made up personality. And I think that when people create this content they can forget this. Fans can develop certain emotional dependence and unhealthy attitudes in the long run. In some YouTube comments even supportive and encouraging words sound whiny and obsessive. And semantics of being a “stan” of certain group or individual doesn’t help. 

4. Industry, companies and liars 

At last we arrive at the most important aspect of music entertainment industry - its creators.

Have you seen “The Road to El Dorado”? It’s one of my all time favourites. It has iconic characters, adult jokes that I didn’t get as a child and iconic soundtrack. I’ll quote “It’s Tough To Be A God” a lot here. 

In South Korea music industry is a factory, the production line to be exact. This kind of set up affects everything in the grand scheme of things. Companies and agencies play the role of training centres and record labels. And there are so many of them that a whole new scamming system developed based around fake idol agencies. It implies that there are people who fall for offers of these agencies and continue to do so. I suspect that victims must pay a fortune upfront before they realise their mistake. Are there any kind of legal protection against such scams? How can people verify the authenticity? Because a well masked scam can exist for a long time before someone discovers it and calls them out on their nonsense. 

As far as I understand legal companies work like this. After high school, which is often focused on performing arts (and private schools can get away with using talents of students for personal gain, which is totally not surprising), young people can audition for an agency and become an idol in training or idol-trainee. And passing audition is hard. But good recommendations can help, connections too. 

During training you don’t get paid. Only a few companies pay aspiring musicians. People can spend years in training and don’t debut. But rent, necessities, clothing and food (not that you need much of it, but more on that later) cost a lot. Where do you get the money to live then? Support from parents, one or two part time jobs at most and bank loans. Surprise! We found an unexpected (just kidding, it’s very obvious) party, who reaps benefits from the system. 

You need skill to be an idol. Natural talent helps too. The more skills you have, the cheaper and faster your training is. To level up your game you attend classes every month offered by your agency, which are not cheap (dance classes range from 400$ to 1000$ per month, sometimes more). There are four main categories in evaluation process: vocals, rapping, dancing and visuals. Idols are multitaskers, to have a chance on stage one must be perfect at everything. And people are ready to invest thousands of dollars into their kids training so that they could have a chance in entertainment industry. South Korea thrives on revenue k-pop industry generates every day.

Let’s pause here for a second and think about what kind of people come to these agencies. The answer is easy. People who have a dream, a desire, a real goal. You don’t wake up one day and decide to become a k-pop idol. Sometimes people get invited by agencies (after prior acting, modelling career or any other form of exposure). These people are usually very young. Some start straight after high school, some after university, but 25 years old is considered a late start. Compare that to western musicians who start singing at any age and still become famous. 

But why this age limit? Because idols are eternally young. So that in public eye musicians are remembered as 20 year old gods. People would listen to their music and imagine a young attractive face. Career in k-pop is short, it lasts 5-7 years, rarely longer than that. It’s even less than modelling or acting can offer. And professional sportsmen retire in their late 30′s. Some play longer, but usually, that’s it.

If you live in Los Angeles and say that you want to be an actor or performer, no one would bat an eye. It’s like saying that you want to be an engineer or accountant. Similarly, in South Korea becoming an k-pop musician is a real career. Because part of the self insert fantasy that the industry sells is the idea that anyone can be an idol. It’s easy after all. Anyone can pass auditions and become a trainee. A trainee with no guarantee of debut. But one should never underestimate the power of idol-dream. After all, idea is the most resilient parasite.   

“My friends started training in kindergarten. They have wanted to become idols since young”

“A lot of young kids get interested in Korean music” 

A 6-year old child sees the performance of k-pop group for the first time on TV. Let’s say it’s a girl. She is enraptured and decides that she will be like that too someday. She grows up, while being part of the fandom, just like all idols are in one way or another and whose fan-obsession transforms into desire to succeed. Her parents spend time and money to find her tutors, to fund dancing and singing classes. Perhaps in high school this girl decides to fix the shape of her eyes and make nose straighter. She trains hard and passes the auditions in her dream agency. And during training this girl faces the reality of behind the scenes life in music industry.

“Why are you crying? I’m not even pushing you”

“How many times have I told you? The rest are doing it perfectly”

“She is dancing like an elementary school student“

“I watched your performance as a spectator who bought a ticket to your concert. I want a refund“

“You make my ears hurt. I don’t want to listen at all”

“Listening to you was tiring”

“I’ll kick you out instead. You won’t debut”

“I thought I was going to die. That’s how determined I was” 

While I do understand that keeping a high quality standards in media industry is important, there are more productive and healthy ways to motivate someone to improve and be more passionate, you know? Constantly insulting people with sadistic glee and putting them down at every opportunity or calling them ugly to their face doesn’t do much. 

Do you think that children know about this? Do they know about soulless teachers and belittling managers? Do they know about friends who are really your competition, so you shouldn’t get attached? Do they know about living in debt? Do they know any of this? No, I don’t think they do. 

Children dream about the stage, about the sea of lights and crowds who chant your names. They want adoring fans and photoshoots. They want to appear on TV and magazine covers. Teenagers want the thrill of performance, they want to share their music and dancing with others. 

“I don’t know how many times I cried alone”

The truth is cruel. But they won’t give up easily even if it means sleeping 4-5 hours and consuming no more than 500 calories per day. Because giving up means that your whole life was a lie. One can’t afford not to be good enough. Giving up means admitting that all efforts and money your family invested into your dream were in vain. It means losing face before your family and friends - a fate worse than death. Imagine living this idol dream and building your whole future around it and then being told that you’ll never debut because of the circumstances outside of your control or something minor, like face shape or 1 kg of weight that your body refuses to lose. It can break you. Especially if you are like 18 or something. 

5. “And who am I to bridle if I'm forced to be an idol If they say that I'm a God, that's what I am”

“I don’t think there’s anything a tough as being a trainee in Korea”

Once you are a trainee at the agency your personal life does not belong to you anymore. You can’t go out without permission of the agency. You phone is taken away. Your diet and weight are monitored. Bad habits are not allowed (no smoking, drinking or drugs). Oh! I think I found the good thing in the system! Unfortunately, it won’t last. Trainees can’t date or meet with family without permission of agency. Dating is very taboo. Even established idols can’t openly date. 

Why is that? Because gods can’t belong to anyone. Their lives are property of the fandom. Because openly dating idols destroy the self-insert fantasy. There was a former idol girl who dated another musician. She was called a whore by her fans, her loving and adoring stans. You might know who I am talking about. Would you call an American actor or singer a prostitute for dating someone?

Trainees sign the contract. And how can a young person straight out of school or university know much about what makes a good contract in entertainment industry or what makes a good contract in general? Even if you do understand the terms fully you would still sign it because if you have come so far, you can’t let your dream slip this easily. There isn’t a choice. Not really. If you want to debut, you will agree to anything.

What about life after debut? You have to pay off your loans. And company takes 60-70% of your group’s earnings. Artists themselves get 30-40% and split it between themselves. K-pop groups have from 5 to 10 members or more than that. Each person gets less than 6%. Idols are not filthy rich. They are not. These earnings are practically nothing compared to the work you have put into this. 

Idols are musicians, who often don’t even write their own songs, music or create choreography. But if public doesn’t like the song and musical number the company created, they blame idols for the failure. Such an amazing logic we see right here. But people say that sharing music is the best part of idol life. But whose music? 

Models on catwalk are not there to demonstrate their physical beauty, they are blank canvas for works of clothing designers. Same with k-pop musicians. They act like puppets in a way, whose faces and voices are used to show audience someone’s music and songs. Some groups do write their own music and lyrics and it’s nice to know that. But those, who don’t are rather unfortunate. It’s a nice tool of psychological control and pressure for an agency. They can hold it over group and use the following rhetoric: “We gave you everything! Why can’t you follow the simple instructions” or “Where would you be without us? It’s not even your music!”

I called k-pop industry a factory. That’s true. Dozens of people become trainees every year. These talented young people are fully prepared to do anything to achieve their goal. They are ready to practice until they collapse, starve themselves and pour themselves into every song. Companies know that. Tell me why would they value their idols as individuals, as people, as human beings if they always have a replacement? Why bother with mental health of their artists if next year they could have a fresh set of people, who are younger and prettier? Why try to improve relationships inside groups if you could fire any member and replace them within a month or two?

In western countries famous bands have different stories. Some were friends since high school, who played in bars and during festivals and then they were noticed by some representative of label company, who offered them a contract. Some groups were formed by like-minded people who bonded and decided to share their music with the world. There are many stories, but ultimately the have one thing in common. Bands in the West often form themselves. These people had time to bond, connect, discover each other, solve some disagreements and learn to work around their differences. 

K-pop groups are formed by their agencies. They are their property in a way. Company selects the best and puts together these total strangers, appoints the leader with marketable face and personality and then expects them to work together like a well-oiled machine. No one has time to bond during training, because other people are you competition, not friends. And then you must learn to work as a team and be best friends on camera for the audience to support the self-insert fantasy. It’s no wonder that k-pop groups don’t get along sometimes. And every member knows that they are replaceable. It doesn’t help in forming connections. Groups can’t just terminate contract and go to work with another agency. I heard it happens sometimes, but it’s not a done thing. Unlike in other countries where bands just sign the deal with a different label and release their music under their name if they don’t like the old conditions. 

“It's tough to be a God But if you get the people's nod Count your blessings, keep them sweet, that's our advice Be a symbol of perfection Be a legend, be a cult Take their praise, take a collection As the multitudes exalt Don a supernatural habit We'd be crazy not to grab it So sign up two new Gods for paradise”

But is it really a paradise?

Idols are expected to act cute, to match personalities created for them by fans or media. They have to act according to the concept of their group. They have to be a symbol of perfection: skinny, single and with a face perfected by surgery. They are allowed to mess up, but only in a cute way. They can break down and cry, but only if it’s “aesthetic”.

Weight issues are a separate topic. Sometimes I wonder whether managers in companies understand how weight loss or human body in general works. To be honest, I think that scales in agencies are rigged. And only managers know that. I know it can be done from personal experience. Some beach resorts tweak their scales and make them show 4-6 kg less than actual weight, so people wouldn’t get upset if they gain some. There is no way a girl as tall as I am (173 cm) could weigh like 47-50 kg and be able to perform complex choreography on stage and sing without being out of breath, visit the gym on a regular basis and generally function as a normal human without fainting every other day.

“I developed a lot of eating disorders”

“I think I consumed about 300 calories today“

“Someone, please, trim the fat off her arms”

If you grow up thinking of idols as gods and then, when you become one of them you think that you must act as one too. But being an easily replaceable god is a heavy burden. The industry, companies and audience want you to be perfect, to always be on your best behaviour. And the thought of not being good enough or divine enough terrifies you, because stans have no mercy (black ocean concept is the most stupid thing ever by the way). This kind of pressure can destroy even the most resilient. And it does. 

Almost everyone knows that situation with mental health in South Korea is not the best to put it lightly. In many ways it’s a cultural thing. But in k-pop mental health issues are treated with even less care. Gods are not supposed to be depressed or suicidal. They are not supposed to have fears or insecurities, can’t be upset or angry. They try hard to be this deity, this image. So, even when they realise they need professional help or even a friend to talk to, they either won’t seek said help or reach out only to be met with silence. Some agencies disapprove or forbid therapy altogether. 

Sometimes fandom becomes self-aware.

“Don’t forget that idols are people too!”

“Your favourite idols are running out of breath just to keep you entertained“

“They are humans, who have feelings!”

Oh, but here’s the thing, my friend. The industry doesn’t want you to think of them as people. Companies and media repeatedly reinforce the idea that they are not people, they are your idols. And strangely enough, the audience supports this idea. People continue to call them idols, developing worshiping tendencies in the process, imitate them, scrutinise their flaws and triumphs. Because, you know, only “real and ordinary humans” can have flaws, not “idols”.

So people who say “they are human too” and people who say “wow, this concert was amazing, but vocals in the beginning were so off-key, I simply can’t” are one and the same.

This thought process would have been funny if it wasn’t so disappointing. But that’s just my observation.

And here’s another thing about sexualisation. I said before how appearances are everything, marketable face and body could drastically improve your chances to succeed. Companies know about this too and concepts and aesthetics of groups are designed accordingly. Girls are dressed in skimpy outfits, their dances are unnecessary suggestive, they wear heavy make up and try to have “mature” vibes. Boys don’t avoid such objectification either: suits, tight pants and dress shirts along with make up and hairstyle to give audience a promise of the things to come. Grown adults are not supposed to lust after 15-17 year olds. You can’t just create a sexy stage persona for teenagers. Do you remember my earlier words about creepy merch? Yeah. All of it neatly plays into the self-insert fantasy and encourages obsessive behaviour. 

This happens in western countries too. In some way that’s understandable. Beautiful and sexy image with a hint of innocence attracts more people and sells, because it caters to one of the base human instincts. But some things make your skin crawl. 

Sponsorships are another topic. Some k-pop bands seek out sponsors to provide financial aid and cover expenses, when earnings are not enough. Sometimes these sponsorships are fine, perfectly civil. But sometimes it’s a prostitution. Girl groups receive money and provide sexual favours to their patrons. It’s a way for the group to gain financial support and even find new opportunities in the industry. Companies can encourage such deals. Let that sink in for a moment. 

6. “Any advice to those who want to become a k-pop idol?”

A lot of former idols and trainees have similar responses to this question. 

“I don’t want to discourage anyone, but think twice”

“You only see the glamorous side, but don’t see all the hard work that goes into it”

“It’s not what you think”

“They think ‘Since I am good looking and can sing and dance really well, maybe I should become an idol?’, but there is much more to it“

“They think it’s something that is easy and will keep their family set for life financially”

And this implies that most people don’t know what kind of lifestyle k-pop stars truly have, despite the amount of information available online about “behind the scenes” proceedings.

7. Moving on

I am a practical person and every decision I make is subjected to scrutiny. And after seeing everything I can't help but wonder whether idols believe it's truly worth it. What keeps the industry alive is the idol-dream, the wilful ignorance of its reality and youthful idealism, the beautiful naïve belief that it'll get better, even if it never does in the end.

Sure no one would ever admit it out loud, because it's one of those things you never say on camera, no matter how sincere you have to be. It's the matter of professionalism after all, and idols have it spades. And also, because admitting this would equal admitting that you spent your best years doing something you both loved and hated, admitting that this was a mistake.

When you grow up in a society where appearances matter the most, where saving face and being polite is more important than staying true to yourself, where individuality is tolerated only to a certain point, it takes a lot of courage to admit that you need a break. I greatly respect those who decided that idol lifestyle is not for them and moved on.

8. Conclusion

To sum up, I hope you enjoyed my small research and this perspective, since you have read it all the way to the end.  

You have noticed that entertainment industry is an intricate system and its every component makes sure nothing changes. Companies have power over idols and audience, fandom has power over idols and their careers, and musicians themselves have fame and their music, but not always the promised fortune or happiness. 

It’s important to understand the big picture to draw your own conclusions and encourage positive and heathy attitudes in fandoms. Being open minded and allowing people to make mistakes and live their lives the way they want to is a part of being a decent person. People don’t owe anything to others. Art is about sharing your thoughts and feelings, promoting ideas and spreading beauty. It’s not always about money. And I think that this is what k-pop lacks as an industry. It turned dreams and human need for self-expression into business. Here everything is turned into a product. Everything idols touch can be sold, sometimes literally. Industry created problems, which can’t be solved anymore, because doing so would topple the system. And I find it tragic. Trapped in an endless chase after perfection creators of k-pop forgot that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. 

If you take a look at comment sections and posts on different platforms, what will you see? What kind of things resonate with audience? What makes people laugh and cry? When people start to appreciate the substance?

“Everyone needs to hear this song in their darkest moments”

“Thank you for your music!”

“They always deliver! These guys can’t make a bad song!”

“It inspired me to write again!”

“Their songs brought me and my sister together once again”

“This is what happens when you let groups write their own music - they make incredible things”

“They really are legends of k-pop! I love that they are not afraid to show their inner strength”

“Stay strong! You rock!”

I believe that the answer is quite simple: when it’s real, sincere. It’s all about the message you choose to send to your audience, because only superficial things cause obsession. When you say that the sparkly façade is all that matters, then that’s the only thing people will ever care about. Your audience will never give a damn about the meaning behind dancing, music or lyrics, if you tell them that performance is more important. No one would praise WHAT k-pop idols sing, instead they would prefer wasting breath to criticize HOW they sing or look or move. 

I dare the k-pop industry to prove people that it’s not just about looks or perfection, or laser shows, or being a branding machine. Prove to your fans that k-pop artists are also passionate people with big dreams and talent, who love every moment of their job, who live and inspire, who are human just like us and whose humanity is real!

Do it, you cowards!

And now, I’m finished. I can hear the raging crowd of k-pop fandom in the distance, which means it’s time to hide. See you some other time! 

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 13

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Calypso meets Jason (domestic moments part 3)

A/N: I wrote a little longer rant on ao3 but let me just say that bless au:s. The fact that I can progress things my own way keeps me want to continue this fic. 

I hope you guys enjoy, and remember that I cherish every comment I get! (Ps. some drama is coming, let’s just enjoy the fluff for now!)

Characters in this ch: Calypso, Leo. Jason, Piper

Words: 2021

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

Calypso and Leo didn’t have time to recover from the electric moment before there was already a knock on the door. After Leo opened the door and greeted the newcomers, they soon noticed Calypso still standing near the kitchen counter with a tint of red on her face. Piper, who had already met her, just waved her hand happily as a greeting, but Jason stepped closer, offered his hand to her and said: “So, you must be Calypso. I’m Jason, the one who used to live in your room.”

“Y-yes, Leo mentioned that,” Calypso stuttered as she shook his hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. And Piper you already know.” He gestured towards the brunette who nodded. “She told me about her visit. Leo, on the other hand, has been kind of vague about you.”

“Oh? The flatmate I know can be quite a loudmouth when he wants to.” Calypso looked at Leo with surprise.

“You two just met and she’s already roasting me to you…” Leo said, pretending to be embarrassed. “This is my life now.”

Jason snorted. “Maybe that’s good for Mr. Super Sized McShizzle’s ego.”

“Super Sized McShizzle? Oh my gods, the nicknames never end. Did he give that to himself?” Calypso asked, having to stifle a laughter.

“He did,” Piper confirmed and Calypso couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Even if she was doing it at his expense, Leo was happy to realize it was already the second time she laughed that day, in a short period of time. For some reason the thought made something bubble in his chest.

“OK, now that we have that established, can we move on?” Leo asked impatiently.

“No.” Piper smirked playfully, apparently interested in the current topic. “What does he call you, Calypso?”

“Sunshine. I don’t really know why, though.” Calypso shrugged. “Maybe he’s being sarcastic.”

“Aww, sarcastic or not, I think that’s cute,” Piper said. “His nickname for me is Beauty Queen. I hate that nickname, to be honest. He knows I don’t really care about how I look.”

“What about you, Jason? What’s his nickname for you?” Calypso asked, already feeling more relaxed with the guests.

“Well, sometimes he calls me Lightning Boy because I used to help around at an electronics store and once I accidentally blew a fuse there… It was easily fixed, though, but Leo thought it was funny. Sometimes he also likes to use Sparky or the nicknames my friend Percy has given me: Golden Boy and Blonde Superman. Don’t ask.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Calypso’s eyes flashed strangely when she heard the name Percy but then she probably decided that the name must have simply been a coincidence because soon she asked Jason something else. Leo was relieved to see that Calypso seemed to like both of his best friends as they kept up a light hearted conversation while setting the table for the dinner.

Once they were ready to start eating, Jason asked Calypso: “By the way, feel free to ignore my question if you think it’s too personal, but I noticed that you said ‘oh my gods’ in plural at one point. Do you have any specific reason for that?”

“I guess I kinda do,” Calypso confessed as she sat down on her seat and crossed her hands over her lap. “The thing is, I’ve never believed in just one God. I’ve done a lot of research on the Greek Mythology and… I don’t know, I like the idea that different things, say, for example weather, have different forces affecting them. Now, I’m not saying that I believe in the stories of Greek mythology to the letter - there are a lot of crazy myths out there - but when you look at the bigger picture, there’s a lot that makes sense to me. I don’t know. People always think I’m weird when I say that.”

“I don’t think that’s weird,” Jason said. “I’m interested in the old cultures as well and I’ve always wanted to do my share so that they wouldn’t be forgotten. That is one of the reasons why I wanted to become a teacher.”

“Oh! That sounds great,” Calypso said approvingly. “I’ve sometimes debated in my mind if I should become a teacher as well because a lot of history majors do but… so far I think I’m more interested in the research…”

Jason was going to say something more but Leo decided to interrupt. Even though he was happy Calypso got along with his friends, he had to admit to himself that he was a little bit jealous because his own beginning with her had been a lot bumpier than his friends’.

“Alright, nerds, that’s great and all but why don’t we start eating? The sauce supreme won’t be waiting!”

“Who are you calling nerds?” Calypso retorted back, attempting to throw her long braid over the shoulder before remembering that her hair was short now. “You must remember every single mathematical, physical and chemical formula by heart, and besides, I heard you humming the theme of Game of Thrones the other day.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Leo asked, surprised Calypso knew about his humming.

“I think it proves that you are such as much of a nerd as we are and probably even more,” Calypso teased.

“But I need those formulas to complete my job and that theme is epic… Eh, whatever. Let’s all be nerds then. Cheers!” he raised his glass of soda and took a huge sip. Jason and Piper looked at each other with amusement. The Leo they knew was very stubborn and might not have stopped the debate quite that easily. It must have been the Calypso effect.

For a while the group ate in silence, before Leo broke it again.

“Well, what do you guys think? How’s the papa Grace approved taco sauce tasting?”

“It’s good, Leo, just like the ones you made when I was living here,” Jason answered, maintaining his poker face.

“I think this has a little less spunk, this time, though,” Piper said, but after seeing Leo’s expression she added quickly: “Which is a good thing! I don’t need fluids coming out of my nose no matter what you say.”

“Make fun of me all you want, I know you like it.” Leo pouted but soon he started grinning again. “Hey, what’s you guys’ opinion on olives?”

“I like them,” Piper said and to prove her point, she took more of Calypso’s Greek salad on her plate.

“They’re OK,” Jason chorused. “Why do you ask?”

“We had a little debate…” Leo said before he had time to regret it.

“A debate?” Piper asked curiously, turning her head from Leo to Calypso.

“About olives,” Leo replied. “I said I’d eat all my olives in the salad nicely if she tasted this chili right here.” He showed her friends the half of the chili that Calypso hadn’t tasted, not caring about their horrified expressions.

“Eww, dude, I’ve once tasted those and I had to drink like 2 liters of milk after that! Why would you make her do that?” Jason asked.

“Because she wanted to,” Leo said defensively.

“Is that true, Cal?” Piper turned to her.

“Well…” it was Calypso’s turn to get embarrassed. “It kinda is. I did say I was up for the challenge.”

“Okay,” Piper said with amusement. “Then what happened?”

“She only tasted a tiny bit and I claimed that wasn’t enough for me to eat the olives,” Leo answered.

“And I started chasing him and…” Calypso started but she realized that it might be better if she didn’t continue that sentence. After all, she herself wasn’t sure what exactly had happened in that moment. “And?” Piper wanted to know.

“That’s when you guys arrived.” Leo covered for Calypso.

Piper had a feeling that there was still a bit more to the story but she knew where to put the limit so she just ended up chuckling a bit and saying: “Oh, that chasing part explains why you seemed a little out of breath when we arrived.”

Leo and Calypso looked at each other and nodded in unison.

“That sounds like something we would have wanted to witness,” Piper said, trying to stop herself from laughing out loud.

“Some of us play tag, some of us play Pokémon,” Leo decided to pay back. “We can have some fun too.”

“They play Pokémon?” Calypso looked at Leo with a funny expression. “You know what, Valdez? I used to be pretty good at it back in the day when I played it with my… um, when I played it as a kid. Maybe we should have a battle with them one day.”

Leo did notice the hesitation in Calypso’s voice when she mentioned she had played it as a kid, but decided to ask about it later. He grinned at her in response.

“Now we’re talking, Sunshine! Jason, how about you bring your Switch here next weekend and we’ll have a battle then! We can also play Mario Kart for the good ol’ nostalgia’s sake.”

“It’s a deal!” Jason agreed and Leo and he shook hands to seal the promise.

“We’re gonna have to have a strategy meeting before that,” Leo turned to Calypso again. “These two have played more so they have the advantage.”

“Oh yes, for sure,” Calypso agreed. “I didn’t know you had a Switch, though. Haven’t seen you use it.”

“I do, though. One customer broke theirs and I told them I couldn’t fix it…”

“Leonidas!” Calypso said disapprovingly.

“Relax, I’m just kidding. Gotta try to keep up my bad boy supreme image. In reality I bought it because I wanted to give Georgie a reason to come visit me more often, but between my studies and work I haven’t really had a chance to use it much.”

“You are not a bad boy supreme, you are a doting brother. I’m sure Georgie would like to spend time with you either way, though.” Calypso said as much to her as Leo’s surprise.

“Guys, as much fun as this is to listen to, your food is getting cold,” Piper pointed out as she stuffed more of her tofu tacos (Leo had made both meat and vegan options) into her mouth. The two quickly turned their attention back to their dinner while Jason and Piper casted knowing looks at each other. Leo may not have admitted it out loud but there definitely was something going on between the two. It was the way they casted shy looks at each other when they thought the other one wasn’t looking, how their faces softened when the other one said something they liked, and how they pretended to bicker but neither really wasn’t too serious with their words. Maybe they weren’t quite sure themselves what to think but Piper had a strong feeling eventually they would figure it out.

The group continued a relaxed conversation as they ate about all things possible; university, weird customers Leo ran into in his work, food, games, how Piper and Jason had met Leo, and so on. After the guests thanked for the food and said their goodbyes, Leo asked Calypso:

“So, those were my friends. What do ya think?” “I think they are great! I admit I was quite nervous at first but… they seem to be easy to hang out with.”

“Good! Um, listen,” Leo said, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “I still have one project to finish today and I have early classes tomorrow, ugh… But I had a good time today. So thanks.”

“I had a good time too.” Calypso smiled. “Despite that chili!” she decided to remind him.

“Oh, right, sorry about that.” Leo ruffled his hair. “I won’t make you do that again. Maybe.”

“You’d better not,” Calypso said but not in a mean spirited way. “Anyway, I have some homework to do as well, so… Good night, Leo.” She smiled at him before withdrawing into her room.

“Good night, Cal.” He waved at her, noticing that one part of his brain was already looking forward to talking to her again later.

[mamakitty187]

NSFW Alphabet - Peter Rumancek

I am gonna necromance (necRUmance?) the fuck outta this fandom! Hope you enjoy, and if you have any ideas for drabbles, hc’s, imagines, whatever, PLEASE send them in!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Peter after sex is pretty chill; he’ll lay in bed with you, maybe lighting up a cigarette or a joint if you don’t mind. He just likes to bask in the afterglow.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

He loves your lips; every time you bite or lick them his eyes are drawn to the movement, he nibbles your lower lip when you kiss, and sometimes when he cups your cheek he brushes them with his thumb. He especially loves it when your lips are wrapped around him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically … I’m a disgusting person)

He’s pretty sure it’s a werewolf thing, but when he cums, it’s a *lot*. He always feels a little bad about making such a mess, which is (one of the reasons) why he loves finishing inside you somehow. When it’s your mouth he loves watching you swallow every drop, and when it’s after fucking you, the sight of his seed dripping out of you is sometimes enough to start round 2.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He can smell when you’re about to start your period. It’s not a bad smell to him, just something he notices.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Peter has had a lot of sex with a lot of people (of both genders). He’s very talented, and very proud of his skill.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

He doesn’t have one that he strongly favors over the others, but he really enjoys being able to see your face. Doggy style is different, since he can feel the wolf trying to take over; this can be good or bad, depending on the mood.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He’s not goofy per se, but he’s able to laugh and tease and have sexy banter. If the mood is more serious he’ll roll with it, but sex isn’t an inherently serious thing to him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

We stan a hairy boy! But in all seriousness, he keeps his area relatively groomed, out of respect for his partner(s).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, it depends on the mood. He can be incredibly intensely intimate, staring into your eyes, sharing your breath, feeling your heartbeats align.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s got the sex drive of a beast, so he’s gotta get off at least once a day, and usually more. He’s got no problem locking his door to rub one out, or even just doing it on the couch if he’s got the place to himself. Sometimes it’s more of a ‘get it over with’ situation, but other times he’ll draw it out and really enjoy it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It should be obvious, but he LOVES marking his territory. He’s constantly leaving marks on your neck, scratches on your back, but also putting you in his clothes, letting you use his soap/shampoo so that you smell like him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He’ll go at it just about anywhere. His room is the most comfortable, followed by his couch or anywhere else in the trailer, but he really enjoys fucking in the hammock outside. He’s figured out how to use it as a makeshift sex swing, and since you two can often be found laying there anyway, it’s probably your most common sex spot.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Peter’s pretty quick to heat up; the right word, touch, or look can set him off. But insinuating that you belong to him - or giving him a reason to prove you are - is a sure-fire way to rev him up.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He absolutely will NOT fuck you when he’s in wolf form (you were only joking when you brought it up). It’s not even about the bestiality, he’s just afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep from hurting you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves it when you go down on him (see B) but he *really* loves going down on you. The noises you make, the way your body writhes, the scent and taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick heat on his tongue, it’s a total feast for the senses and he is ALL about it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can take it slow and gentle when you ask, but his default setting is, unsurprisingly, beast mode. He’ll rail into you hard and fast, or lap at you like a starving dog, or shove your head down in submission, anything to get both of you off as intensely as possible.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s not the biggest fan of quickies (see S), but he’s a master at getting you off in record time, so he enjoys the challenge. As for him, it’s just a warm-up for the inevitable longer fuck, as soon as you’re able.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s okay with calculated risks, but throwing all caution to the wind makes him nervous. He can be convinced, but it usually takes some coaxing, depending on what it is, especially if it comes anywhere close to possibly hurting you (or getting arrested).

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Peter can last a *really* long time, to the point where getting off fast is hard for him. His usual when not rushing or drawing it out is about an hour, but he can easily go for way longer. On top of that, his recovery time is relatively quick, and then he’s up for more. There have been times where he’s had to give you a break to stretch, or get a glass of water.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t have any toys himself, and he’d much prefer not to bother with them at all, but if you ask nicely he’ll use something on you. He really doesn’t like thinking of you getting off to anything but him, though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Peter can be the absolute *worst* about teasing. With his hands, with his voice, with his eyes and smile, he’ll use anything and everything to turn you into a squirming begging mess. He always makes it up to you though.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Peter isn’t much of a dirty talker; he can, he just thinks it’s kinda cheesy. He’s definitely a growler though, and when he gets close to cumming he moans, his voice pitching up beautifully when he hits his climax.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He lost his virginity at thirteen at a gypsy wedding.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s uncut. It’s just not a common thing among his kind of Romani. He’s also big, like *really* big. He’s not sure if it’s because of the wolf or if he’s just blessed, but either way he’s proud.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s got a crazy high sex drive (see J). He’s at least halfway hard most of the time, and he’s gotten used to ignoring it, but it never takes much to get him the rest of the way up.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

If you’ve been marathoning it for a few hours he won’t last long, but usually he’s not sleepy so much as just very relaxed. He’ll be plenty awake enough to cuddle, smoke, and maybe (usually) go again.

@mrsniallhoran505​ @ilovemycrayons​ @wolfsilverhunter​

[scionofchaos]

A Series on Witches - Part 2

This is the second in a series of posts on the nature of witches and magic practitioners as I have witnessed, as well as some notes on common spiritual practice, and the nature of humanity. Lots of broad material to cover, so I'm going to go ahead and get started. If you get to the end of this post, and you find you have things to say, I welcome you to please comment, reblog, however you feel appropriate, or private message me if you'd prefer, and let's get the discussions started!

Last time, we covered the basics about human boundaries and why we experience frustration when those boundaries are unknowingly breached. I also gave some of my educated opinions on ways to adapt, given the covered material. Today, I would like to assert that this concept of boundaries also extends to mystical practice. In the animist cultures of Native America, Russia, Japan, and similar places, the general understanding is "Spirits exist, and can affect this world anywhere you go." There is no concept among shamans of "a place where there are no spirits" or "a place where spirits do not go." There are some protective measures: talismans restricting spiritual activity, blessings and prayers to call on a powerful spirit's protection, curses to call on specific spiritual activity, and so on. There are trees with ribbons tied to them, and holes with coins buried in them, etc. But these are not sanitary; they do not have a claim to working 99.99% of the time. Nor would circling your bed with Purel be a good replacement. These naturalistic peoples understood that the spirits are everywhere, and to an extent, spirits will do whatever they want. What they attempted was to beg and beseech for the spirits to hear them, and to accept their desperate pleading and sacrifices and appeasements as payment for not causing harm. This is no different than paying tithe to a feuding warlord, or offering one's family members to a rampaging force of humans for protection from harm that rampaging force would cause. Payment to a lord or to the mafia is only slightly distinct from this.

There are subcultures within the magical community that have beliefs different than this. Beliefs like "Evil spirits fear the name of my God, and if I speak it, they will cower." Beliefs like "If I draw a circle in chalk, with these symbols in it, and perform the necessary rituals, then the spirits will have to respect that space/cannot violate that space." Many believe these things because a recognized magical authority told them to. Just like paying the Lord taxes because he says he is the Lord, and your neighbors do it, and they say he is the Lord. But what if we go with a different example? What if you told the mafia "no," and they burned down your shop? Maybe now you'll be more willing to pay them, if you're still alive or in the same city. What if you didn't bag up and hang your food when camping, and a bear came into your camp? Maybe now you'll camp responsibly. Just the same, there are practitioners who played with fire, and the spirits caused them problems. They tried something to protect themselves against the spirits, and it worked, so they've done it ever since. Not all threats are equal. You might pay the mafia dues, but then some punk off the street breaks into your house. You offer to pay him. He shoots you, takes your stuff, and leaves. You might put your food up in bear bags, but a new bear "comes to town." This one has killed before, and has a taste for human blood (as well as a mind-debilitating infection, we'll say). When this one comes to your camp, he's not looking for cans of Spam, he's looking for tasty humans in a flimsy tent. Your bear bags do nothing.

What is all that rambling meant to say? If a circle worked for you before, don't be deluded into thinking it works on all spirits. If an incantation worked before, don't think it works for every spirit. I have met spirits who have been confronted with tens of names for the Christian god, for the Jewish god, for the Muslim god. Whether or not these are the same being is not important in this example. Faithful servants, deacons, priests, Imams of such religions have confronted these spirits in the name of their god, and it did nothing. The spirits laughed. Some have told me they played nice anyway, then attacked when a later offense provoked them. Some told me of their deliberate breach of that confrontation, immediately and without mercy. When you invoke a god like that, you are telling the spirit in front of you two things:

a) "This is the name of a spirit who is bigger and stronger than you, meaning that both you and I are smaller and weaker than they." and b) "I am calling on assistance from this powerful spirit, so you had better attack quickly before their intervention takes place."

You better be sure that your god is not only stronger, but is ready and willing to act quickly enough that the offending spirit will not harm you. Because if your god arrives five months later and says, "You called for help? Where is the enemy?" then that is a problem. That is why I swear by having the power and the skill, by yourself, to handle anything that comes your way. If you are prepared, the only other thing you can do is choose not to provoke a spirit. Stay clear, give them space, convey your intent not to involve yourself in their affairs. If you choose to engage with an unknown spiritual power, as I often do, then you are willingly putting yourself in a position to be attacked by something you are not prepared to handle. Because I have made that conscious choice for myself, my preference is to deal with all spirits openly and honestly, to observe them carefully, and to make it clear immediately what I deem to be a threat, and how I deal with threats. Even so, I have been attacked. Even so, I have encountered beings I could not handle, and I paid the price. It is much safer to show deference and back off.

That being said, how do I relate magical boundaries to physical ones? I apply a "natural lawn" approach to my environment. When living with others, I have asked them if there are any wards they wanted me to put up. I put up nothing else. Now that I live alone, I have my own personal defenses and nothing further. I have standing rules that any spirit which enters my home must not be seen. If it is seen, it will be confronted. If it remains unseen, but chooses to sneak-attack me, it will pay the price for this subterfuge. These rules are clearly written external to my wards, and my intentions are projected into my home at all times, like a warning alarm. I make no attempt to construct wards or defenses around my yard, or around my street, or around my town. Natural lawn. If the spirits lived here before I arrived, if they migrate here on occasion, then they have as much right to be here as I do, and will not be challenged unless they make themselves known to me (intentionally or not) or invade my personal space (intentionally or not).

I am not recommending my way as "The Way." It is a spiritual practice developed for my personal abilities and needs, and I am not acting as safe as possible, due to a level of confidence in my ability to communicate and defend myself as needed.

[narutsuart]

Updated Three Houses Top 10 Females List:

Just in time for International Women’s Day! I’ve been working on revising my list as much as possible in light of revisiting Three Houses, playing Ashen Wolves, and rethinking my love for each female character I put on my last list. I will this time do the my list from Tenth place to First place. Just a heads up my # 1 one spot has not changed so don’t expect some crazy surprise there.

Disclaimer: please don’t flame me or comment about how “WRONG” I am it’s just my personal opinion or preference. BE NICE! and maybe reblog or comment your favorite list if you’d like?

#10: Shamir:

My opinion Shamir literally has not changed. She is just a cool character, I love how despite her debt to Rhea she isn’t kissing Rhea’s ass like Catherine or Ciril. Did I mention I really don’t like them lol? She’s badass and she has an excellent character design. Perfect blend of sexy and badass.

#9. Bernadetta:

Bernie dropped another spot going from 8th to 9th. I still have an abundance of love for Bernie, and I want to protect her at all cost. I still hold the opinion that while she’s an absolutely hilarious character, she can still get repetitive and stale pretty fast upon replays. That being said when I was thinking of characters that might potentially drop to below my top ten I couldn’t reasonably see myself dropping her out of my top 10, as Bernie is still a genuinely enjoyable character, and I do have a soft spot for her.

#8. Sothis:

Unfortunately Sothis dropped down a bit no fault of her own, simply because I enjoy the ladies above her more. That being said I really do enjoy Sothis. Even though our time is brief with her, I really do love the snarky little goddess. It’s funny, last time I made this list I had gotten her Christmas altand expressed my excitement, but I didn’t have her Mythic version(aka original version). I just recently I finally got lucky, and pulled her Mythic version!

#7 Dorothea:

AHHH THE PITCH FORKS!! I’M SO SORRY!! I know! I know! WTF?! I honestly any think of a perfectly justifiable reason as to why Dorothea has dropped so low on my list. She went from 4th place to 7th place for those that don’t remember. I honestly feel disgusting for putting her so low....I absolutely adore her character, her design is absolutely stunning, and I still enjoy most of her supports, but honestly I can’t justify putting her any higher than the women above her on this list. Like many who have dropped lower in placement it’s of no fault of her own. I just happened to realize I love the women above her more. I still believe deserves all the happiness, love and care that she desires!

#6. Hapi:

Hapi is such a fucking gem, I don’t know if it’s just the dub but Hapi’s dialogue is just so ahead of its time period and I love it so much lol. She has some of the funniest quotes and her habit for nicknaming everyone is hilarious. I’m aware that it’s not a trait unique to her, but I’m of the opinion that her nicknames far surpasses Dorothea’s nicknames. Now if we we’re talking strictly design Hapi would place 4th out of entire female cast for me, and that’s impressive feat since Three Houses has an abundance of amazing designs. In fact if I was strictly talking design a lot of the placements on this list would actually change. For example Hapi would actually rank above Constance for me in terms of design, but is trumped by Constance in terms of character. I might do a separate list for “best” designs in the near future.

#5. Rhea:

I KNOW ITS BLASPHEMY I STILL have both Edelgard and Rhea in my top 5?!! As those who saw my last list can see Rhea’s placement has not changed. I love Rhea so much is because she’s the perfect foil to Edelgard. Rhea is an excellenty written character with a lot of emotional depth. She acts as a perfect foil for Edelgard’s character they are so similar yet so different. It also makes sense that she and Edelgard’s ideals would come to clash. I’m of the opinion that if Edelgard and Rhea just talked about their views it still would still not end well. Rhea sage guarded her fabricated history of Fódlan for a thousand years and would not just tell the truth because Edelgard called her out. She would’ve branded Edelgard a heretic and have her executed. That type of tranquil furry is honestly unsettling and I LOVE it. Btw the only reason she tells the truth in CS and VW is because in CS she doesn’t think she has much time left, and in VW she doesn’t have much time left and chaos is marching on Fódlan’s door. Likewise Edelgard would sympathize with Rhea’s past if she told the truth, but would insist that Rhea step down from power or tell the truth to the world which would still lead to conflict. I personally agree with Edelgard vision for Fodlan more, and personally think Rhea is unstable, and worst SOLE leader for Fodlan, but neither are evil people and I can empathize with their motives and reasons for doing the morally grey things they do. Neither of them “do nothing wrong” like people claim and in fact do a LOT wrong. It’s those wrong things they do that makes them intriguing characters, and more relatable. They also both have the potential to do so many good things for Fódlan depending on the route.

#4. Constance:

GOOD LORD Costance is truly a one of a kind. I was pro Constance since her design was first revealed in the Cindered Shadows DLC trailer. That being said never did I envision loving her THIS much! Her motivations are easily understandable, and her fall from grace makes even more sad when you realize that haughty attitude that she almost always has on display is due to her compensating for her lack of status. Constance is one of the funniest characters in the game to me and she came out AFTER the game lol. She’s an incredibly intelligent prodigy when it comes to all things magic yet she has this naivety that people are able to exploit like Yuri with the “bootlicking nobles” phrase. She takes it so literal that she tries it out for her self, and tries to make a way for the boots to taste better making it easier to lick their boots......I CANT EVEN!!... honestly Constance could top this list if it weren’t for her split personality..... don’t get me wrong her split personality when in sunlight can be funny every now and then, but honestly it does more harm to her character then helps it in my opinion. Her change in personality when in sunlight is implied that to be because of the trauma of the fall of House Nuevelle, but we never get any real explanation for it or anything implying she can overcome it. Its not expanded upon, and never treated seriously. In fact it’s played for laughs and it’s something people just accept as Constance just being Constance. I honestly felt Constance C rank support with Ferdinand was done so well. She calls him out for his usually insensitive comments about status and makes him regret his words immediately. I had so much respect for her in that moment, come the b-rank support she acts all submissive and praises the ground he walks on....which ruined the c-rank support for me tbh. That being said, as you can see based off her placement this trait of hers doesn’t ruin the character for me, just keeps her from being higher.

#3. Petra:

On a much lighter note, Petra is my 3rd favorite! If you notice she has dropped down from my second favorite spot. This is due to no fault of her own I, just happened to realize that I loved my number 2 spot more. With that being said Petra has still gotten the victory! Like I mentioned in my first list, Petra is just a delight. I love how she’s so dedicated, and always willing to learn. Funnily enough my initial expectation for Petra’s character pre-release was vastly different then what her actual character ended up being. She’s one of those character’s who’s design got revealed MUCH earlier than any details about her personality and her design gave me the impression that she was the aloof, intimidating, and serious type that doesn’t have time for making friends or fun. I don’t know if anyone else got this impression, but obviously I was wrong! Petra truly does remind me a lot of Starfire from the original 2003 Teen Titans tv show and kinda re-awakens that childhood cartoon crush in me lol. Petra is just awesome there’s not a single support I don’t like of her.

#2. Marianne

Now if you saw my old list you probably noticed that Marianne moved up a bit. Naturally I still love her design(I’m a sucker for light blue hair I think lol), but upon revisiting Three Houses I realized that leaving Marianne at 3rd place somehow didn’t feel adequate. Funnily enough she was technically the first person I S-ranked in Three Houses due to locking myself out of the Crimson Flower Route on accident. Honestly she has become my favorite character to S-rank in Three Houses even more so than my number one spot! Anyway my love for Marianne is very different for most character’s as she is one I feel can really relate to on very personal and emotional level. I’m gonna get real for a minute. I honestly I had been in bad place in my life recently. I had been feeling like the world has been crashing down on me. I have plenty of things to be happy for yet I often felt depressed. I’d often had “friends” call me out, saying I have no reason to be depressed, or that I have been blessed with so many things, and while I agree I’m very blessed, they couldn’t understand how I felt, as all they could provide was the view of an outsider looking in. While the action of suicide was something I never considered, I’d had been contemplating the value of my life or if it was really worth living. First want to clarify that I’m in MUCH better headspace than I was then. I definitely feel like I’m getting better. I have my ups and downs, but I’m currently making better friendships, I’m actively getting the help I need! I’ve always sympathized with Marianne, but now I can say that I really empathize with Marianne. When we take things at face value she seemingly had everything going for her, being brought up into the nobility, trained for success, and even having an extremely rare crest. By all means to an outsider looking in she had every reason to be happy. Of course while all these things sound nice especially in the context of the story they are in actuality a source for her depression. In her C-rank support with Ferdinand we see his confusion as to why Marianne dislikes being a part of the nobility. This support is one of the few times she expresses real anger, and is when expresses she never got to have what she saw as a normal life, she never wanted to be a part of the nobility and the weight and the expectations of being nobility was crushing her, as she had to adhere to standards of those around her. She was also taught to fear her crest as curse, so the blessing many commoners would be estatic to receive was thing she deemed as a curse. Over the course of the story and through her supports, Marianne begins to learn how to be more accepting of herself and gain more self-confidence. Naturally her timeskip appearance reflects this. She looks well-rested, expressive, and she genuinely seems more happy. I will never forget In her A-support with Byleth, that over the course of 5 years she had abandoned her depression and suicidal thoughts thanks to the genuine and long lasting friendship‘s she’s made and that she managed to uncover the truth of her heritage, and overcome the fear and hatred of her Crest. Her character arc is a very powerful thing to me, and is also example of what makes the 5 year timeskip so great. In addition to her character arc Marianne is just so cute, don’t get me stated on how adorable her habit of talking to animals is! Marianne is a fucking fantastic character and I love her so much.

EDIT: So I wanted to clarify that if I’m being honest Marianne and #1 spot are technically both tied as #1 me, and are so for very different reasons. For the sake of creating a Top 10 and to avoid a cop out list I chose to put her at second. To me Marianne is “BEST GIRL”. She’s my favorite female character to marry, she’s most endearing to me, she has like my third favorite female character design in all of Fire Emblem, and I relate to her on an emotional level. That being said this next character is “BEST CHARACTER” I like more for her role in the story, how her character is written, and how she was designed. Despite this I do not marry her NEARLY as often as Marianne. While I ship her with F! Byleth(OTP!) she’s not someone I personally would persue romantically. In other words Marianne is more my type and I tend to be biased with her while this next character is female character that I feel is the BEST WRITTEN and the female character I respect the most out of the cast.

#1. Edelgard:

Upon revisiting Fire Emblem Three Houses story as well as playing the Cindered Shadows DLC, nothing has changed, in fact my love and resolve for Edelgard has only been strengthened. I made a huge in depth posts for Edelgard a while back explaining her past, motives, and reasons for what she does. The posts had spanned multiple reblogs of details and clarification and I went over the typing limit in every single one. I won’t divulge further into all that. Like I mentioned last time I created my top ten list, aside from her being IN MY OPINION one of the best written female protagonists in Fire Emblem history, I absolutely love her design, its probably one of my favorite designs in all of Fire Emblem. That being said, If I had to say while she’s definitely close, she doesn’t have my all time number one favorite design, that spot goes to Azura from Fire Emblem Fates. Edelgard will always be my favorite Three Houses female character no matter what and I’m so happy she was brought into existence!

Well that’s my revised list, I had a lot of fun writing this list and I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read as well! I would really love it if you guys comment or reblog with your own list of favorite Three House females! Y’know what?! Comment or reblog with your list of favorite females in the entire Fire Emblem franchise if you’d like! I’m very interested in seeing your lists Happy International Women’s Day!