#diary daily until that stops being intimidating and go from there

[chasingsereine]

didn't I know how to write at one point

what the hell even happened to that

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Feel free to ignore this. But I love your writing and was wondering if you could do the stalking headcanons you done but with the 2p allies?

How could I ignore such a request? After all, yandere is a fun aspect of horror to write, stalking is just one step in the process. Also thank you for the compliment and the ask. I love seeing them.

Sorry, I put it as an original post, but it was an ask. I fixed it!!

The buzzing sound of old electrical wires was the only sound on the empty street. It gave the young woman some comfort while she stood underneath the old streetlamp. Though that small bit of comfort was not enough to stop the paranoia that came from the feeling of being watched.

France – François’ chéri would be watched constantly in some shape or form. He would prefer to use cameras. Things like street cameras, security cameras, and the like would all be hacked by one of his men. From there François would have them all connected to his phone via a special app called Darling Watch. If there were spots along his chéri’s route that didn’t have a camera, then François will have his men install some.

This does extend to the home of his little chéri. As much as François doesn’t like to work, he would do the cameras himself. He knows her best and would know the proper places to put the cameras. Places she wouldn’t expect or think to look. From there he would install them in every room. Each one is well-hidden and yet gives a full view of her home.

François would occasionally view her in person. Unlike Denmark with his few times a month, François would find a place in her routine where he could watch her fully once a week. If she had a customer service-like job, then he would be the customer asking for her. A college student, then he would watch her as she studied in the library. So on and so forth.

Overall, his chéri would pick up on the fact she was being watched. That action is not the easiest to hide and may drive her to the point of tearing her apartment apart. Throughout all the madness, she would never guess François. The man that appeared in her life once a week. The man that occasionally stared at her or gave her a couple of words at work. The truth could be enough to send her into shock.

America – Allen is a pushy and possessive person, and it shows in his stalking. He stays close to his doll and watches for as long as he can. He spends his time out of sight but close enough to take photos and intervene on her behalf.

Until he feels that it is the right time to talk to her that is. At that moment Allen will saunter into her life. His overall timing and attitude would remind anyone of a villain from a greaser movie. The tough attitude but that rough charm that could make anyone weak in the knees is how he cements his place in her life. From there, his stalking becomes a lot easier and more fruitful.

He gets pictures and some of her most personal information straight from her mouth. Things like why her favorites are favorites. All the items with sentimental values and what extra things will be needed in their new home. The list could go on and Allen will catalog it all with a smile. Though at the same time, Allen will still watch her from a distance. Following her home after hanging out, making sure no creeps are around her house. He sometimes even watches his doll through her bedroom window. He just leans against his motorcycle and lets his thoughts wander.

Doll is gonna end up right where Allen wants her. She will assume he chases the monsters away, but in the end, she invited the worst monster into her home. Once reality sets in though, her feelings of betrayal would be intense. His doll may try to cast him out, but it won’t be for long. He will still watch and wait for the right time to bring her home.

Canada – Matt’s methods remind one of a zoologist. Continual observations, detailed notes, all while remaining in the corner of her eye. It's terrifying and somehow Matt is able to find out all he needs to know.

Matt is a true lurker. He is hiding just out of her periphery; the shadows help hide his massive form. His high-end camera letting off small clicks as he takes plenty of photos. Each one worthy of being on the front cover of a National Geographic magazine. The photos are printed on high-end glossy paper and then placed into an album.

Each picture is labeled and contains notes about his maple. The range from things about her likes, dislikes, medical needs, and more. He even has a book dedicated to her enemies, each one taken down is crossed out in red.

Through the process, Matt's zoologist behavior continues by entering her home, like an animal's den. Though he is helpful while looking through. he does this by helping them get a promotion at work via intimidation, getting any medications, buying her groceries, and placing them in their proper place, improving/fixing things in her home. He also takes out anyone that so much as bumps into her.

The improvements and groceries at first would be brushed off. But as time goes on and the incessant clicking of a camera will start to drive her into madness. Each click is enough to make her panic and all the improvements cause an uncomfortable itch under her skin. It will all end when Matt finally brings her home.

England – Oliver is very subtle when it comes to his dearie. Mostly because he has her come and interact with him. Then during the in-between times watches her.

This all starts simple enough, he makes sure that she has to visit him. It could be that her job has her deliver some paperwork to him and it must be in person. Maybe, a college student looking for a part-time job and suddenly finds a new cupcake shop looking for workers. Either way, Oliver will find some way to get her to him. From there he builds up the relationship.

It feels creepy at first. Oliver asks some deep questions, things that one would expect from a date rather than a boss or work partner. It gets uncomfortable, but Oliver is able to change the atmosphere with a simple sentence. It causes his dearie to think that she was overacting. It eventually gets to the point it makes her want to quit, but as she searches for something new, roadblocks pop up.

Things like businesses going under, people dying, and other horrible misfortunes. All the while not realizing Oliver’s sweet little flying bunnies had a hand in causing it. They are his eyes and ears, telling them the information that he could not pry from her lips. Sometimes they are his little thieves and take things from her home for him to alter.

All these elements lead to self-isolating behavior. As much as it pains Oliver to have her distant, it helps in the end. Though he was suspected in the beginning, she never had proof or some kind of connection. So, when he reveals himself, she is pissed. Screams and accusations are thrown and he just giggles.

China – Jin uses others to stalk his Qin. It's simple to him because he knows that unless love is involved, anyone will sell out another.

There are many people that buy from Jin. The types range from all walks and this gives him an advantage. Jin makes it simple, watch his Qin and report back to him. As long as his new employee doesn’t cross any lines, then a huge discount is applied to whichever of his products that they desire.

From there, information and pictures are gathered quickly. Eventually, these aren’t enough for Jin, so he goes and sees her in person. During these times, Jin will sit right in her line of sight. Maybe even a quick bump to interact with her. He lives for these times, though throughout it all Jin is still hiring people to find more information about her.

His darling is less likely to feel paranoid overall because it isn’t a single person just staring. It's people from all walks of life and sometimes attached to her life that the information is coming from. This creates a bubble of safety that he can exploit.

Once the bubble is popped, Qin will cry and panic. She will have realized that she should have been more cautious, but it’s too late now.

Russia – Viktor will operate in a very ordered way. His stalking is always connected to his preparations for their new life together.

When he starts Viktor takes watching his родная seriously, he uses his men at first to make her more comfortable. They are to watch from a distance and report her daily schedule back to him. Once the schedule is set, then Viktor comes to do things in person.

He walks into her home, like it's his, and looks for the most personal things. Diaries are read, medications are written down, preferences of food and clothing are noted. Viktor will analyze the deeper behaviors of his родная. This will help him understand her relationships, and what he needs to fulfill her emotional needs.

Throughout it all, Viktor will visit her occasionally. His visits are usually in a professional setting. It creates a sense of expectation for both and helps take the suspicion off him. This also helps Viktor to understand which situations his родная is most comfortable in. This will help when it comes to kidnapping later on.

Overall the moment Viktor has all the information he needs from the stalking, he strikes. It's shocking, because she was taken at a moment when no one would have guessed. This man that родная has had few encounters with is now standing across from her. He is claiming his love, and she is doing her best to hold it all together.

[kihuis]

Diaries of the Insomniacs [ I ]

Yoo Kihyun x Reader

Chapter Genre/Rating: Mature; NSFW - mentions of masturbation and drug use Word Count: 3.3k

m.list

Fueled on nothing but too much caffeine and a half hour nap, you lazily stroll into your first class of college, the only one you unwillingly decided to take to keep your professor father happy that you might finally have your life in check after too many years of pretending it was going nowhere. As the early bird of the family, he’s never understood you’re nighttime habits and has always constantly scolded you for staying up too late and sleeping through homeroom.

When you applied to college, you made sure to have a schedule you could abide by. Having night classes has more perks than the fact that it’s the only time you can stay awake. The lower teacher to student ratio makes it easier to focus and you need that a lot right now. In order to truly make your father happy, you need to take school seriously, and that’s what you intend to do.

You arrive to class nearly fifteen minutes late, something you were anticipating. Last night you scavenged the entire campus to find any sign of night life, looking for some kind of twenty four hour cafe or library or coffee shop, but to no avail. You ended up reading on your dorm couch until six in the morning, finishing Jane Eyre for the fifth time. A couple times, you heard drunk voices of the boys and girls heading back to their rooms for the night but not once did you hear any leaving, something you were hoping for. Finding a friend might be the last thing on your list of things to do, but it’s something that might help you bide your time in ways other than reading the same old stories over and over again.

You find a seat at the back of the room, happy to see that your teacher hardly notices your late entry and continues with her talking.

“What’s one thing I can expect from you as far as assignments goes? Well, it’s effort. I know Language Composition isn’t the most exciting class you’ll take, but I’m not a fan of half-assed work,” she says as she rifles through papers on her desk. The students around you follow her lead and you realize they’re going over the class syllabus. You printed it out yesterday right before the campus library closed.

Getting it out of your bag, you try to find the page she’s reading from. It’s not a hugely detailed syllabus but there’s five pages and considering how late you are, she could be well past the second page at this point.

Sensing your struggle, the guy next to you gives you a nudge, holding up three fingers when you look over at him. His shaggy brown hair lightly covers his eyes, but you can tell he’s keeping them on his paper. You smile in thanks, turning to the correct page to follow along.

The last thing you remember before you finally begin to doze off is your professor going on about essays and tests before you’re jolted away by a harsh push on the back of your chair. You sit up, trying to gain your composure and let your eyes adjust again to the light. You’re surprised to see the classroom is vacated except for you and whoever kicked your chair to wake you. 

You turn slightly, surprised to see the culprit is the guy who helped you before. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He looks intimidating yet soft, like he’s that stereotypical bad boy type that falls for the princess.

“A new class starts in like fifteen minutes so unless you’re in it, too, you might want to leave,” he says calmly, nodding towards the door. You expect him to leave, too, but he stays, watching you as you begin to pick up your things. 

This is why you told your dad it was best if you didn’t have any morning classes. You were embarrassed enough in high school due to your problem and you didn’t want to be that girl again in college. Looks like you’re off to a great start.

“Is your next class in here or something?” you ask him, curious as to why he’s still here.

“No. But we live in the same dorm and you seem new to campus so I though I would do the polite thing and help you out,” he says.

Now you look up at him. “How do you know where I live?” you ask him, standing up with your bag. He follows as you walk out the door.

“Because I saw you moving in. It’s not like it’s that creepy, there were more than twenty of us in the common area and you were going back and forth,” he tells you, as if that makes it any less creepy than it sounds. “I’m Changkyun by the way.”

“So glad the weirdo has a name,” you respond, not wanting to humor this guy and instead just wanting to climb in bed at this very second and get in your daily sleep. You don’t have another class until eight tonight, so you have plenty of time to catch up on it.

“Helpful weirdo,” he states.

The air outside is hotter than you remember. You’re usually used to crisp, cool nights under the moon, so having the sun looking down on you is only adding to the tired soaring through your veins. You visibly yawn as you trek through the crowds of people making their way to and from classes while you try to remember the way to your own dorm. That’s the thing about only getting thirty minutes of sleep, you tend to have a lower memory lapse, something you tried to warn your father about as well.

“Does the tired recluse have a name?” Changkyun asks suddenly.

You gape at him, trying to quicken your pace, but your feet are too tired to carry you any faster than a sloth. At least a recluse can move faster than you can.

“Excuse me?”

“Insomnia I’m guessing,” he says. His black combat boot kicks at the light dust on the ground. You’re wondering why he’s wearing so many layers in the sunlight. Maybe he’s a night owl like you but that wouldn’t explain his early schedule.

“Oh, so you’re a know-it-all too,” you quip with an eye roll. “Thanks for your inappropriately timed hospitality, but I think I’m okay.” You begin to stalk off when he speaks again.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I am positive,” you tell him without even looking back at him.

“No really, are you sure? Because our dorm is that way,” he speaks up, pointing in the opposite direction that you’re walking in. You let out a loud sigh and turn to him again.

“I wasn’t headed to the dorm. I was going to the library,” you say as you turn to continue walking.

“Then why are you headed that way?” he’s asking now.

You stop in your tracks, another loud sigh escaping your lips before you turn around to him again. He’s squinting in the sunlight at you, looking as tired as you feel. Perhaps he’s a little like you, but that doesn’t make his smug and annoyingly correct remarks about you any less annoying.

“Can I at least make sure you get back to your room safely? I was on my way, too,” he tells you, nodding his head like he did in the classroom earlier.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” you comment, watching his mouth send you a slight smirk. “But since you so obnoxiously pointed out, I am a little lost as it’s my first day so I guess I will make an exception.”

He huffs out a laugh and looks at you expectantly, tilting his head to the side. As much as you hate your dogs for doing it, they start walking towards him, screaming at every step to lay the fuck down before you pass out in the middle of campus.

“So, does the lady insomniac have a name?”

“What, are you an expert on insomnia? Reading all the signs or something?” you ask him. Who is he to get into your business? Not that you totally mind. He’s pretty cute you guess.

“As a fellow insomniac, it’s hard not to notice.”

So he is like you. Just someone who prefers the company of the moon to that of the sun, which by the way is still glaring down at you, cursing at you to get the sleep you so well deserve.

“Y/N,” you finally reveal. “And if you’re an insomniac, then why are you in a morning class?”

“Why are you?” he retaliates. You’re finally starting to recognize the path to your dorm.

“I asked you first.”

The last thing you want is your life to turn into some crappy rom-com and Changkyun here isn’t doing too well at letting you dodge that outcome. I asked you first. Absolutely cliche.

“I’m good at pretending,” he says simply, not elaborating. “You’re turn.”

“Strict father,” you say simply, not elaborating.

Changkyun nods, not asking you to and you’re thankful for that despite being irritated by his smart remarks. You don’t feel like getting into your family issues with a practical stranger.

“So what is there to do around here in the a.m.?” you ask him. Your bones are whispering about how tired they are, how fragile they feel under the day lit sky. It’s a wonder how you’ve made it this long without falling to the ground like your body wishes it could. You’re usually asleep by now, but that’s not necessarily a surprise.

“Not much truthfully. A lot of us go out into the city. We have a loft out there that we party at. But if you’re not into that, there’s a twenty four hour diner just outside the east of campus. That’s your best bet if you don’t want to be stuck in the dorm all night.”

“Any scenery?”

“A little. There’s an old baseball field about thirty miles outside of town. It’s quite the drive, but it’s worth it once you get out there. We play pickup games sometimes.”

“There’s a lot of we talk happening. Cheating on me already?” you ask jokingly. Now even your hands are wailing at you, begging for mercy. Subconsciously, you pop each knuckle before placing your hands into your own pockets, mimicking Changkyun’s position.

“Well, you never asked me to go steady,” he plays along.

Once you finish your way past the courtyard and back onto another sidewalk, you find yourself remembering walking the same path back from the library under the full moon the night before, finally gracious for the familiar footsteps despite your now tired body. With every step you take that you know you’re closer to your bed, it’s like your muscles begin to give in. You can already tell that the moment you step into your room, you’re bound to pass out immediately.

“So as a night owl, I can understand why you weren’t only late to Language Comp but also fell asleep for half of it,” Changkyun tells you as the two of you approach your dorm. “A couple cups of coffee can only do so much, you know?”

“They didn’t do anything for me this morning,” you say through a yawn, covering your mouth with your elbow.

“If you ever need help, I know a guy.” He pulls his student ID out of his pocket and holds it up to the door sensor, confirming that he’s a student here and letting you both into the dorm.

“Sounds sketchy,” you say without missing a beat. What kind of guy does he know?

“It is, I guess,” he laughs before pulling out a pill capsule from his pocket. “How do you think I’m still awake at this ungodly hour?”

You don’t even want to ask, so you don’t. Interesting how this guy just met you and is already comfortable enough to let you know he’s on speed at this moment. Probably not a great thing to be hanging around with him, although, the thought of royally pissing off your father makes you oddly satisfied. It’s not like you plan to take drugs to stay awake. You’re smarter than that.

You follow Changkyun through the common area, mostly girls with coffee cups on their laptops plaguing the room. There’s a couch at the far end of the room where a guy is asleep, but you can’t see anything of his face of than a pink tuft of hair. The only other males in the vicinity are in the middle of a pool game, one rather tall one waving at Changkyun as you pass by. Instead of stopping though, he continues to walk with you towards the stairs. 

“Thanks,” you tell him quickly before walking up them. When he continues to follow you, you’re quick to turn around, stopping him. “So are you just going to continue to stalk me?”

He doesn’t respond just smiles and shakes his head before stepping around you and walking up the steps. “I live here too, you know.”

You sigh and curse to yourself, forgetting the fact. Obviously he was headed to his room, too. As if it might save you from embarrassment, you continue your trek up the stairs towards your room, feeling much like you’re following him now. He decides to tease you some more, turning on his heel as soon as you reach the second floor. 

“Are you just going to continue to stalk me?” His eyes are testing you, a taunting look in them. He’s enjoying your little game, having too much fun flirting with you.

You keep your composure, letting yourself look like he’s not getting to you. With a tilt of your head, you raise one eyebrow in a testing manner before echoing his actions from seconds ago, stepping around him and walking towards your room.

You’re sure to give him one last look before closing your door behind you.

The campus is quiet and nearly vacated by the time your final class of the day ends. It’s already almost ten thirty by the time you arrive back to your dorm, feeling plenty awake. Your day usually starts around midnight, so you feel you have time to kill before you need to head out and look for that mysterious diner Changkyun told you about earlier or even the baseball field or even the loft. You’re hoping to find the diner over that, though. No telling what goes on there.

You decide to start finishing the readings your teachers assigned and getting a head start on the homework you’d received. Going into Journalism isn’t exactly the job of your dreams, but you’ve always loved writing and to make a career out of it is difficult to come by unless you go for something as serious as news. It’s exactly what your father told you and as much as you hate to admit it, you have to agree with him. You have to be realistic about this, and if you want to write, this is the best path you can take.

After a while, you check the time. Nearly three. You have enough time to do some laundry before heading out.

Shutting down your computer, you cross your room to the laundry hamper. The nice thing about living alone is that you don’t have to worry about waking up a roommate. You’re free to do whatever you need to do as late as you feel like it.

You grab your hamper and head out the door. There’s not a whole of clothes to do yet considering you only got to campus a couple days ago. It also might be because you were too lazy to do laundry before you moved out of your house and instead just packed your dirty clothes to bring to the dorm.

Walking down the hall, you try to take note of the doors that have light peeking under them, seeing only one out of the twenty. You’re tempted to knock, but that’s only room for a creepy first impression, but why else would someone be awake at three in the morning? It has to be someone like you, only able to be conscious under the presence of the moon.

You skip spying on any other doors and head straight to the bottom floor showers where the laundry room is also located. Community showers mean less privacy, at least for day seekers that is. As someone who’s only awake at night, you don’t think you have much to worry about as far as a private shower goes.

And apparently you’re not the only one who thinks that, because as you’re passing the door to the showers, you hear water running. You suddenly wonder if perhaps it’s Changkyun since he lives here too. But when you hear a voice that doesn’t belong to him begin to sing, you realize it’s not and head into the laundry room. Maybe it’s one of his friends, the ones who he parties with at sketchy lofts and plays pickup games of baseball under no light other than the moon. 

After putting your laundry into the washer, curiosity gets the best of you. You head back out into the lobby to go through the bathroom door, but you stop short when you hear the same singing voice halt and begin to moan. 

Whoever the voice belongs to gets steadily louder and you wonder if he is getting a blowjob or simply just getting himself off. Despite the weirdo in you who wants to find out, you decide to ignore your poor judgement and head back up to your room to get a head start on the new book you bought the day before.

Once plenty of time has passed for your clothes to get washed, you go back downstairs to transfer your laundry into the dryer. As you’re walking out of the laundry room for the second time, someone walks out of the showers at the same time. You don’t recognize his face, but the pink dye on his hair makes you realize he’s one of the guys who was in the common room this morning. He’d been passed out on the couch instead of playing pool with the other two guys or flirting with the numerous females around. Now he’s only wearing a pair of jeans and shoes, a towel slung over his bare shoulder.

Considering his damp hair, you can assume he’s the one from before that you heard in immense pleasure. No one is with him, so you can also assume that he was alone while he was in the middle of a climax. Now all you can do is picture him naked.

You feel your face heat up as you pretend not to notice him, walking right past him towards the stairs again. He’s close behind you on the stairs and you have to force yourself not to turn around. When you reach your floor and begin to head down to your room, he decides to speak.

“You always do you laundry at three in the morning?” he asks. His voice definitely matches the singing and moaning you heard in the shower.

Turning around, you try to keep your eyes from straying to his crotch. You don’t know what t looks like but it’s not a hard thing to imagine. He’s very attractive, too, which is just adding to the situation. You decide to play it cool and clap back sassily.

“Do you always masturbate at three in morning?”

He chuckles and clutches his towel, removing it from his shoulder before continuing up the steps. He doesn’t speak again until he’s nearly around the corner of the next floor up.

“Only on Mondays.”

[jayne-hecate-writer]

Opening night at the opera...

I had been looking forwards to this show for weeks, I had a special dress, new make up and severe anxiety for the whole day leading up to going out of the door...

The opera was the brand new production by The Welsh National Opera of “Un ballo in maschera” by Verdi, a Gothic melodrama in three acts and it was beautiful. This was also the opening night, in their home theatre, in Cardiff. So you can imagine the excitement among the audience, which unlike that we see in Bristol, seemed to have a bias towards the older opera lover. Generally speaking, from where we were sat, the average age of patrons was around 170! Come on young people, you need to embrace the arts because you are missing out on a spectacle of beauty.

So let’s start at the beginning of my story, which involves a trip to the theatre to see the WNO perform in Bristol, which was as always, utterly wonderful. During the intermission and after my dash to the loo, we were approached by the Press Officer, a charming young woman who clearly knows her onions and she asked if my dear friend Ginny would like to review a special show? It turns out the plebs like us are just the sort of people the WNO needs to bring in, in order to keep going. To be blunt, more plebs means more money in ticket sales... OK, that is remarkably disingenuous, but it stands as a point. The arts in this country are in desperate need of support and the more ordinary people who will embrace them, the longer they can survive. 

So, I placed the date in my diary and then pretended to forget about it, while inside my stomach squirmed at the thought of going to Cardiff to see a show in a huge auditorium. I also needed to make sure that I looked smart, this was after all, a special event, so no jeans and Slayer t-shirt for this one. Actually, as I think about this, I have never worn jeans and a Slayer t-shirt to the opera. Maybe I should from now on! Anyway, the only good frock I had in my wardrobe was broken. It also did not fit me that well and quite frankly it was close to being thrown out, despite having been really pretty when new. 

Luckily for me, while out at a Death Metal gig, I met the fabulously clever and talented Cassie of Jolliff Sewing and Embroidery and she said that no dress was beyond saving. Somewhat doubtfully, I gave her my frock and a small payment and hoped for the best. I told her to take her time and in almost no time at all I was told to come and get my frock. It looked brand new. No, actually, it looked better than brand new. It looked tailored, it fitted me perfectly and she had even repaired the lace on the front that I thought was beyond repair. I could not have been happier. My advice to anyone in need of dress making advice or clothing repairs is to talk to Cassie. Mind you, you will have to wait your turn because she now has the rest of my ripped and ruined wardrobe (I must stop fixing the motorbike while wearing ball gowns!) to fix up and alter. 

With a new frock and some new make up, I got myself ready and two hours before I was due to leave, I realised that I really did not want to go. The thought of travelling to Cardiff, of being in that huge room with all of those people, of being somewhere posh, of being sociable... all of the things that us socially awkward quiet shy types have to deal with on a daily basis suddenly piled up on my shoulders and threatened to crush me. I could not eat, I could not drink anything and I even forgot to take my meds prior to leaving. Physically shaking, I left the house and sat in the car. Not even rancid death metal could calm me down.

I picked up Ginny and we hit the motorway, in bad weather and low visibility. The trip to Wales was on and I was focused on getting us there safely. I had offered to drive because Ginny has always driven us previously and it seemed fair to share the load so to speak. Mind you, with no sense of direction, I needed a co-driver who could give me a running list of directions... It cannot have been a relaxing journey for her! Finally we arrived, parked up and I asked Ginny to remember where we had parked, otherwise we would have to walk home and I would never see my car again. 

The Wales Millennium Centre is huge, intimidating and very pretty, well for a building anyway. The acoustics are spectacular and the stage is fabulous. But that is not the best bit, not by far. The best bit is that the seating is soft, comfortable and plush, even in the cheap seats! I love the Bristol Hippodrome, I truly do, but this was a step up in terms of luxury. Everything is shiny and new, the floors are polished, the air is fragrant and the views of the stage are really well designed, even with an ugly fat bald bloke slumped in the seat in front of you! The lighting is wonderful, every detail is clear and yes, I was blown away. My nerves faded along with my inhibitions (thanks to the pain killers I was forced to swallow... Thanks useless body!) and I was able at last to relax in my seat and wait for the show to begin.

I was in awe as soon as the curtain rose. The set, the costumes, the choreography. It opened with a coffin, upon which lay my favourite character of the entire show, Oscar, performed by Julie Martin du Theil, with whom I immediately fell in love. The character of Oscar is a young, possibly gay, Herald, performed by a soprano, but for me the winning moment came when Oscar slid from his Master’s coffin top to reveal the most magnificent costume of the evening. It was all leather, with huge Gothic boots, making the character look like a young Danni Filth of Cradle of Filth. 

Photo credit:- The Welsh National Opera.

Once again, I am comparing classical music with black and death metal and as always, the comparison is worthy. The themes of this opera are dark, with images of Satanism, sacrifice and murder. This is in every blood soaked second, a truly Metal experience. The first act was for me the best, it is dark, occasionally evil and often sinister. My next favourite character was the Sorceress Ulrica, performed by the wickedly dark Sara Fulgoni. The dancers who played Ulrica’s servants were covered in brutal, but hilarious wounds that were soaked in red ribbons of gore, with the various implements of torture poking out of them. There were the usual knife and sword wounds, but also screwdrivers stuck in heads, hacksaws half way through limbs, scissors stabbed into backs, machetes embedded in brains... Every single one was brilliantly brutal and once again, just pure Black Metal.

Act two saw a less exciting and for me less enjoyable scene. The love torn Amelia performed by the always fabulous Mary Elizabeth Williams, is at the gallows gathering the magic herb needed to break the spell of love on her heart. The count who is in love with her watches in the distance, but given that she is married to his best friend, things are not going to end well for any of them. For me, this part of the show was the least interesting because it contained all of the heart break and misery of the piece. It was just far too nice, far to emotional and did not contain much of the mayhem and darkness of the first act. Mind you, the watchful foxes with their glowing red eyes were creepy and beautiful, while the full moon painting was breathtaking.

Act three sees the resolution of the piece and once again the costumes were fabulous, the music swelled and the lights were magnificent. As the party goers arrived at the masked ball (for which the show is named after) dressed in skeleton printed long coats, I desperately wanted one of the black ones to wear home. The wonderful Cassie may well have repaired my damaged velvet jacket, but the creepy and ghoulish skeleton coat would have been a prized piece indeed. 

With the show ended and numerous bows taken so that the royal visitor could be whisked away before us plebs got in the way, I was left with my fingers in my ears because right behind me was sat a man whose clapping was a sonic weapon, probably commissioned by the Police in case anyone decided to have a pop at the royal guest. How one man can clap that hard and that loudly and still have hands left at the end appalled me. I can only imagine that he has had plenty of practice, clapping down concrete bunkers until all that remains is pulverised gravel and dust! 

The drive home was somewhat more chaotic as lost drivers struggling to find the motorway swerved across lanes, almost as lost as I was. They badly needed a Ginny to navigate them too! Finally I arrived home, elated and still feeling pretty in my posh frock and make up. Taking it all off felt like I was stripping away something fabulous, removing something special that I did not want to lose. 

I must now thank the following people. Firstly the whole cast of the Welsh National Opera, for their fantastic Black Metal performance. Cassie for my wonderful dress and jacket. Then most of all, my dear friend Ginny for all of her tolerance, kindness, support and navigating. 

As for all of you, you absolutely must go and see the opera and support the arts in this country before they die out through falsely assumed snobbery and horrible feelings of impostor syndrome. Organisations like the WNO will not only welcome you into their home theatre, but they will do so with the open arms of friendship. If you have never seen an opera performed live or think that opera is not for you, choose one of their lighter ones, grab a good friend and go along. Trust me, I speak as a rancid Black Metal fan, opera really is for everyone and the Welsh National Opera are one of the best out there. 

[theentoiii]

THE DIARY OF A WOMAN WHO DIDN’T SETTLE

Let me begin by saying, I have high standards in men. I never wished for a perfect man but I always knew my worth as a woman, as a person, and so I also knew what I deserve.

Before I met “The One,” my last relationship was in 2009. I was cheated on.

Since then, I have this guy friend from high school who calls me by my middle name always teasing me about my love life during our group Christmas parties.

I remember he would ask me...

“Ano Cusay may dinedate ka na?”

“May friend akong single, reto kita?”

Then I noticed that year after year, his questions transitioned into statements and unsolicited advices.

“Oy Cusay tanda mo na, mag-boyfriend ka na.”

“Babaan mo kasi ‘yung standards mo.”

As if having high standards was a bad thing, someone also told me, “Napaka-idealistic mo naman kasi. Tapos ang intimidating mo pa.”

At the time, I’ve already been single for six years. Yes I dated but it never progressed into a relationship.

I stood firm on my beliefs that there’s no way I would settle and adjust my character only to please a man. He must love me for who I am.

Fast forward to end of 2014, while having my personal reflection, I realized how blessed I am with a renewed relationship with God, great family, wonderful friends, and progressive career as a field correspondent.

Then it dawned on me that I’m ready to be in a serious relationship.

So on the first day of 2015, with no person and face in mind, I started praying for a partner.

Every night before I went to sleep and whenever I had the chance to drop by the adoration chapel of my favorite church, I would pray and ask the Lord to bless me with a partner who is God-fearing, comes from a good family, financially stable, street-smart, and good looking—although it’s just a bonus.

Five months into my daily prayer, a female friend invited me to join a summer trip in Zambales for the Labor Day long weekend.

There I met Adrian.

I was told that we share the same birthday. Apart from that, I didn’t know much about him. But in the brief moment that we were introduced, I felt a kick in my stomach.

My heart beat fast and loud, I could hear it.

Everything didn’t just move in slow motion. It completely stopped. In my peripheral vision, all things went blurry. And all I saw—clearly—was him standing in front of me.

The familiarity and connection was enigmatic. I got imprinted to him for reasons I didn’t know yet but it felt both strange and wonderful.

Exactly how it was in movies!

Still lost in the peculiarity of my emotions, I shrugged it off moments later.

In Zambales, Adrian and I shared a small talk once and that was it.

We went back to Manila to face reality and field coverages consumed me again. But our Zambales crew maintained communication through our Viber group and on Friday nights we would hang out together.

Until one day, I received a message alert from

Viber. And the sender’s name? Adrian Michael Ramirez.

I couldn’t recall the first topic we talked about but he had started messaging me regularly since. If he messaged once or twice, I also replied once or twice.

The transition from Viber to SMS was so smooth, I didn’t even notice. Then there were calls.

We would talk for hours at night and yet the amount of time was never enough.

He’s enthusiastic, full of life, and smart...and the thing is, I’m sapiosexual.

I loved our conversations and my feelings grew stronger the more I got to know him.

And then I fell for Adrian inevitably because more than anything else...

1. HE IS GOD-FEARING FIRST.

There were Sundays when we couldn’t go out because he needed to attend to his services and commitment in their Catholic community which I am now also part of. I love the way he prays and the way he worships the Lord. It is so attractive.

2. HE COMES FROM A GOOD FAMILY.

“Love you Pops,” I heard Adrian say one time before hanging up the phone, it was his dad on the other line. You see, I like to observe people—their habits, demeanor, fashion, table manners, and even the way they start and end a conversation. Those three words were a simple revelation of Adrian’s affection for and relationship with his parents. He didn’t only come from a good family, he grew up in a loving one.

3. HE IS FINANCIALLY STABLE a.k.a. HE CAN PROVIDE.

When I prayed for a partner, it also meant asking for someone I’m going to marry. I set this as my third standard because it’s but ideal to have someone who has a sense of responsibility for his future family. Adrian achieved this when he took the risk of leaving his comfort zone in his old company to take on new challenges and in return, receive a higher salary. Remember, when deciding to enter a serious relationship, begin with an end goal in mind.

4. HE IS STREET-SMART.

As someone raised by a set of parents who both didn’t finish school and married at a young age but managed to run a successful business that is now over twenty years strong, I take this type of character to heart. My father had instilled in me early on the importance of not just being book-smart but street-smart because when realities of life hit, I got to know how to survive. In short, “dapat may diskarte ka sa buhay.” Like my father, Adrian is a planner and has a direction. He is also Mr. Solutions guy that’s why he wins at life.

5. HE IS ALL THINGS CHARMING.

When I first met Adrian, there was no love at first sight. He’s unique in his own way, however, he just didn’t fit my physical preferences in a guy. But guess what? To me now, he is the most good looking person in the world. No one comes close and nothing compares. He has an irresistible charm whenever he talks, he laughs, he raises his eyebrows, he winks, he eats chicken; he is all things charming—even when he’s serious. Plus, he always feels like home.

Ladies, in Philippians 4:6 it says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

It was a delightful journey of discovering who Adrian really is. In fact I enjoyed it so much that it was only in hindsight that I realized how God had helped me tick off all my five standards in exact order.

IN. EXACT. ORDER.

So let your prayers, even your standards, and all your heart’s desires be made known to Him.

But when asking for a partner, pray fervently and wait patiently. Keep your faith game strong even when your prayers remain unanswered.

‘Coz remember, in God’s perfect time, not yours.

Pray. Be patient. Never settle.

Keep those standards high woman!

P.S. Sixty-three days from now, I am marrying my answered prayer. ❤️

Update: On May 11, I married Adrian.😊

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📸: IStory Productions