#& i am genuinely just so grateful - and awed really - to still have this band and this blog and people wanting to talk about things with me

[kindahoping4forever]

Hi there. Daddy blog anon here. With the new year quickly approaching, I wanted to say thank you for being a fun presence in this fandom and for all the updates. Your tags have kept me entertained on many occasions. I know 2023 wasn't always easy for you, I hope 2024 brings you better things. Besides that, any hopes or dreams in 5SOS land for 2024? Seeing as 5SOS are probably taking a well-deserved break as a band.

This is so sweet, thank you for saying all this 🥺 You're right, this year was really a struggle for me but that just made me all the more grateful for the moments I was able to spend here with you guys, celebrating our band. 💙

As for the coming year? With the foreseeable future (as far as we're aware 👀) bearing an empty calendar, it's hard to know what to expect from the band but I'm hopeful we'll still have some sort of connective content from them whether it be thru pre-existing footage being released (like the Amsterdam special) or updates on their socials. Annnnd maybe a new solo album or two 😌😏

[theresawritesstuff]

9

Something in the way she moves - James Taylor

And I feel fine anytime she's around me now

She's around me now

Almost all the time

And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now

She's been with me now quite a long, long time

And I feel fine

October 2015

Stephen Colbert tapped his notecards against the desk as the cameras came back from commercial. "Hey everyone, welcome back to The Late Show. My first guess tonight is a Grammy and Pulitzer prize winning activist and a living legend in the comedy world. Please welcome… Lenny Bruce!"

The band struck up a jaunty take on an old jazz standard as Lenny shuffled out onto the stage to a standing ovation.

The older comedian looked around, waving to the balcony as if to say Aw shucks, knock it off, before making his way up the small steps to his seat.

He settled in with a grateful nod to the crowd before turning to his host. "I like what you've done with the place."

"Thank you very much," Stephen replied. "You'd been here before on the old set a few times back in the day."

"A few," Lenny chuckled, taking a sip of his water.

"So Lenny, can I call you Lenny?"

"Sure. I've learned to respond to it."

The audience chuckled at his underplayed shrug.

Colbert covered a smile before continuing, "Lenny, I want to talk about your latest memoir in just a moment, but before we get to that I want to wish you a happy early birthday."

"Oh, well thank you very much."

"You're going to be ninety next week!" his host stated, clearly impressed.

Lenny smiled. "So they keep telling me."

"How do you feel?"

Another shrug to the crowd. "I feel fine."

"You look good," Colbert offered kindly. "Very spry for a man of your age."

"Why thank you. So are you."

Colbert broke a bit with that along with the crowd.

Recovering,  he said, "You've lived a rather impressive life Lenny. If you don't mind my asking…What's your secret to longevity?"

"My wife," Lenny answered almost immediately. "Now she's spry for a man of her age!"

He smiled as the crowd laughed, continuing, "Honestly I can't take much credit. She keeps me young. I hate to think where I would have ended up without her."

Colbert acknowledged the audience briefly, "For those who might not be aware, you're famously married to the very funny and talented Midge Maisel."

The mention of his wife was met with applause, much to his satisfaction.

"Yes I am," he confirmed. "She'll be happy to hear you said she was funny first. When she first started out as a comic, you know women weren't allowed to be funny. They still were of course, but they never got enough credit for it. A lot of the old boys couldn't handle the idea. So it's a sticking point with her. She even wrote it into our vows that I never forget she's funny, as if I ever could."

"How long have you two been married?" Colbert asked.

"We just celebrated fifty three years."

Another round of applause from the audience.

His host's eyes grew wide. "Fifty three! Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Forget turning ninety. Tell us your secrets to a happy marriage!"

"Maybe when the cameras turn off. I don't think the censors would appreciate my answer."

Colbert smirked at Lenny's coy response. "That dirty, huh?"

"Well…" Lenny shrugged innocently, earning a smattering of cheers and wolf whistles from the crowd.

He grinned a little sheepishly at his host.

"I'm sorry. I promise I will give you a straight answer or two in the time I'm here. You've been very kind having an old timer like me on. It's an old reflex you know, to deflect with a joke."

"We're very glad to have you," Colbert assured him.

"Thank you." Lenny gave the question some genuine thought. "I think the secret, if there is one really, is that Midge and I enjoy each other's company. We always have. And we're always the other's strongest supporter. Now, when we first met we were both in a bit of a dark place. Back of a cop car to be specific."

The audience chuckled at his quip.

Colbert nodded intently. "I remember reading that in her book a few years ago."

"That was a good one, wasn't it?" Lenny beamed proudly, thinking back. "I still remember that nightgown...She must have really gone for my smooth opener of hey because she bailed me out the next morning. Then I returned the favor a few days later– we were a couple of rabble-rousers back in our day– and we sort of just hit it off after that. It was a few years before we got together but I was pretty gone for her from the beginning. She offered me her umbrella once when I was caught in a proverbial *censor* storm. I talk about it a little in the book. I remember it was this small moment of unconditional kindness. She didn't think much of it at the time but that was it for me. She's always had a way of quietly bringing me out of the dark like that."

He chuckled self deprecatingly. "I've been known to be a bit of a cantankerous sort, especially in my younger days, but my buddies could always tell when I'd been around Midge. I smiled more I guess."

Colbert smiled, genuinely touched. "That's very sweet."

"Some say I've mellowed a bit as I've gotten older. I think it's just that Midge has been with me pretty regularly now for quite a long, long time. Turns out having someone who loves you around is good for your health."

"Is she here today? We could bring her out," his host suggested.

Lenny smirked, covering a laugh with his finger. "You'd get even fewer serious answers from this interview, Stephen."

Colbert shrugged. "Yeah but I'm a fan so it'd be fun for me."

Lenny grinned. "As much as she'd love to take this interview even more off the rails, she's next door having fun with the founding fathers fan club outside. What's it called? Ham for Ham?"

Colbert nodded. "That sounds right. They're doing a Hamilton lottery event. Ten bucks for a chance at front row seats."

"Oh that's nice! I like that. Give the average Joe a shot at the jewelry seats." Lenny nodded approvingly. "We'll be coming home with at least twelve more full grown adopted grandchildren by the time she's done, just so you know."

Colbert laughed. "And how many do you two already have?"

"Of our own? Let's see…" Lenny took a moment to count. "Four kids between the sum of our marriages, ten grandkids of a discernible blood relation, and our first great grandchild on the way. She's always mentoring the younger set though. That's another big thing with Midge. Giving a hand up to the next generation. Kenan Thompson calls me Zeyde Lenny, you know."

"I did not," Colbert chuckled.

Lenny nodded. "Takes great pleasure in it. Mixes it up with different voices. I'll come down from my office and hear Zeyde Lenny! at least once or twice a month. He and Midge really hit it off when she hosted SNL. He's a good egg. Funny kid."

"That's fantastic."

Colbert tapped his note card, turning to the audience. "Well folks, I'm getting the signal that we need to go to commercial. Please stick around for more Lenny Bruce as we discuss his latest memoir To is a Preposition, Love is a Verb. We'll be right back."

[oboevallis]

the diary pt 2

it’s been a hot minute, especially for this series, sorry about that, i hope everyone’s doing well and staying safe!

part 1

TW: DEPRESSION, HOPELESSNESS, SH SCARS

please reach out, my dms are open

“You don’t need to follow me around. I’m not gonna throw myself out the window.” Addie rolled her eyes at her mother as she entered her bedroom for the first time in a week.

“I know,” Amelia cringed at her daughter's words, flipping on the light switch. “just helping you get settled in.”

“You’ve been through my room.” The girl bluntly said as she looked around her room.

“We just wanted you to come home to a clean and organized space.” Amelia defended; while her daughter was at the hospital, she spent most of the time in this room, beating herself up for not realizing what her daughter was going through. Unsure of what to do with her nervous energy, she cleaned up the empty bottles and dirty dishes, then washed the pile of dirty clothes, and organized the accumulation of stuff on the floor.

“Well, I liked it how it was.”

“Babe, come on. It was practically unlivable.”

“Wow, look at that.” Addie pointed to the desk that she hadn’t been able to see in months. “You took away my scissors; I can’t even be trusted with a fucking pair of scissors.”

“Addie..” Amelia sighed, trying to pull herself together.

“Get out! Just get out.” The girl sobbed, launching herself on her bed.

“Amelia, are you okay?” Link had been standing outside the door listening to the exchange when his wife made her way out of the room.

“Do I look okay?”

“This is gonna take time. She’s not going to be cured overnight. Recovery is a long process.”

“I know.” The woman nodded as tears stung in her eyes. “I just want to go back to when she was happy and so full of life.”

“Me too.” Link sighed, pulling his wife into a hug. “Me too.”

________________________________________

“Hey champ, we’re all gonna watch a movie. Why don’t you come down? We’re gonna have popcorn; it’s going to be extra buttery.” Link stuck his head through his daughter's door, energetically tapping his fingers on the door frame.

“No thanks,” Addie grumbled, throwing and catching a rubber band ball against her ceiling.

“Come on, it’s gonna be awful, and we’re gonna make fun of it the whole time.” The father tried to persuade, knowing it was one of the things that got his daughter laughing till she hurt.

“No thanks.”

“Do you wanna talk?” Link stepped further into the room and sat at the foot of his daughter's bed.

“No thanks.”

“Champ, you can’t keep everything bottled up.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk! I’m done talking; why can’t everyone just leave me the hell alone?” Addison jumped up from her bed and opened the door for her father. He internally cringed. It was the first time he saw the scars on her legs. Reluctantly he got up and left the room, trying to keep himself together.

“Addie isn’t gonna watch with us?” Anders sighed; he was walking out of his bedroom as he heard the yelling.

“She just needs a little time.” Link mustered up a smile. “She’ll be back to laughing with us in no time. Now let’s go down and watch something with the others.”

“No luck, huh?” The mother turned around on the couch to see the pair walking down the stairs together.

“It’s her first night back; she just needs to readjust.” The optimistic side of Link shone through.

“Why is she still acting like this? She’s being a complete bitch, yelling at everyone. Wasn’t the whole point of the hospital to make her feel better?” Scout asked as the others settled down into the couch.

“First off, don’t call your sister a bitch. But the hospital visit wasn’t to cure her; it was to stabilize her enough to come home.” The mother explained to her other children.

“Well, when will she be cured?” The youngest Shepherd-Lincoln asked, making his two parents feel like they were just stabbed in the heart.

“It’s something that she’ll always have, but eventually, she’ll feel better and learn how to live with it and still be healthy and happy.” Link explained, stepping in for his wife, who was on the verge of tears. “Now, how about we degrade actors and special effects for our amusement?”

________________________________________

Amelia gently knocked on her daughter’s door, and once she heard a mumble of approval, she let herself in.

“Wow, you’ve already finished that book?” She pointed to the one on the floor that was tossed aside, indicating it had been read. “That was like 800 pages, and you just started it; I’ve gotta say I’m impressed.”

“What do you want?”

“You’ve gotta take your pill.” She placed the pill that was in her hand onto her daughter's nightstand next to the bottle of water.

“Why? It’s not like it’s helping.”

“It takes a while, but if you feel it’s still not helping, we can try something else.” Amelia watched as her daughter took the pill and laid back into bed. “If you need anything, you know where I am.” As she was about to close the door, she could barely make out what her daughter had said as it was so quiet. “What did you say, sweetheart?”

“Can you come to lay with me?” She spoke a little louder. She was causing the woman to smile for the first in days genuinely. She got into her daughter’s bed and was shocked when she was engulfed in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize; this isn’t your fault. It’s going to get better, I promise.”

“You think?”

“It will. I’m going to be here, and your dad, and your brothers. We’re here for you. Life gets so much better, I promise, you’re going to look back and see how strong you were and how worth it, it is to be alive.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. Why can’t we just all die and get it over with? It’s gonna happen anyway.”

“You’re right. We’re all going to die, but I think that’s what makes life so valuable.” Addie had a confused expression on her face as she waited for her mother to elaborate. “It’s a one in a million chance that we’re all here, and all together. And we get to experience the beauty and pain with them. Then you get to look back and see all the progress you made because you fought, and you’ll remember the memories with those people and how much it impacted you and allowed you to grow into the person you fought to become. Life is so worth living.”

“You promise?” The innocent voice sent Amelia back to when her daughter was little, and they were making a mundane promise to one another. There was significant weight to this promise, one she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep.

“I do, I promise.” Amelia finally concluded, twirling of loose strand of her daughter's hair. “It’s not always going to feel worth it, but I promise it is if you just stick around. I don’t think you realize how many people need you, even the people you haven’t met yet.”

“I love you, mom,” Addie whispered, burrowing herself further into her mother.

“Not as much as I love you.” Amelia was met with tears of relief, worry, and hurt, allowing them to fall as she tightly embraced her daughter silently.

________________________________________

“Morning.” Link smiled, stopping at his daughter’s door. “I was gonna go for a run; wanna join me?”

“I’ll walk with you.” Addie compromised.

“Sounds nice.” Link tried to contain his excitement. This was the most normal he felt with his daughter since he could remember. Addison slowly maneuvered herself out of bed and lethargically put her shoes on.

“Where are we walking to?”

“Donut shop?” Link suggested, causing his daughter to smile, signifying to him it was a plan. The two set a slow but steady pace and enjoyed the quiet of the morning. “Did you know I struggled with depression when I was a kid?”

“No, I didn’t.” This information shocked her; he was the most optimistic person she knew. Before this conversation, she highly doubted he had ever been sad before.

“It got really bad when my parents split, and I couldn’t get out of bed for the better part of a year. Everything felt worthless, I felt like a burden to everyone, and everyone would be better without me. Then I went to cancer camp, and I met this kid, he was sicker than I was, but all he wanted to do was play video games and focus on the good stuff. It’s not like that cured my depression or anything, but it helped, realizing there was good in the world, and I was lucky enough to see it if I just fought. Not the cancer but my own mind.”

“But it’s just, it’s just so exhausting; how do you do it? Just exist?”

“I found people I wanted to live for, and I found the joy of life through the little things. And I’m so grateful I stuck around because I never would’ve met your mother if I didn’t. Then we never would’ve had the privilege of having you three, which is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Back then, life felt useless, but looking back, it all led me right here, and I’m so glad it did. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was so so so worth it.��

“It was? It was worth it? Even after Scout crashed your new car? And I was sent to a psych ward? And when Anders got sick and almost ruined you and mom?”

“Yeah, all of that was worth living for. Because we overcame it and survived, those things weren’t the end of the world. Scout was okay, and we got another car. You are alive and at home. Anders is healthy, and in the end, it strengthened your mother and I’s marriage. It’s going to take a while, but I know you're going to get to a point in your life and are going to be so grateful you didn’t miss it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” The girl’s father smiled, holding the door of the donut shop open for his daughter. Watching her walking in and feeling a sense of relief wash over him. It was going to be okay.

[plasticnightmaredoll]

Ok, so I had to do this after reading @justasimplesinner ‘s absolutely adorable and precious h/cs for Arkham Knight Riddler meeting his s/o’s family for the first time. I mean, AK!Eddie being happy? Having some sort of family? It hits me right in the feels 😭

But I was inspired to write something similar for Telltale Riddler and his s/o but with a twist. I mean, it’s already going to be quite different considering how Telltale Riddler is, but I’m taking things a little further and getting a bit personal. Since I self-ship with him, I figured, why not turn these h/cs into self-insert ones? 

Basically, Telltale Riddler meeting my family for the first time on Christmas. 

The h/cs will reflect what the reality of my family is like but I won’t get, like, too personal. Y’all don’t need to know everything.

Pre-headcanons warnings to be fair: 

There is a little but of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s a little bit spicy. 

These are self-insert headcanons, not reader-insert ones

This is an age-gap pairing since I’m 33 years old and Telltale Riddler is 60 years old.

Anyway, let’s head on into these h/cs for Telltale Riddler meeting my folks for the first time (and that seems awkward as hell to write but hey, I’m fictosexual so....🤷‍♀️)

There is a little bit of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s definitely a little spicy.  

It’s the first Christmas spent with Eddie since becoming a couple, and it’s also kind of an awkward time because family, you know? And, well, my parents don’t know I’m dating anyone...let alone THE Riddler. 

It’s going to be a challenge getting them to accept me dating someone nearly twice my age (I’m 33 and Edward’s 60, but damn, did he age like fine wine or what?) But revealing that it’s the goddamn Riddler? 

So, yeah, I’m freaking out but I also realize that I have to tell them eventually because it’s only fair, for one, and keeping it a secret for a long time would just make things worse if -- or more realistically, when -- my parents found out on their own. 

Plus, I’m not ashamed or afraid to date Edward. He treats me much differently than he treats most other people, and I want my parents to know that, yeah, he’s Riddler, a criminal mastermind but honestly, he treats me better than any guy has and I’m actually happy.

Edward isn’t nervous but he’s concerned because he doesn’t want to complicate things between my parents and me, doesn’t want to bring unnecessary drama and angst into my life. He can handle people disliking him -- hating him -- but he doesn’t want the only person he’s ever truly cared for to have a damaged relationship with her family because of him.

But we discuss it and decide it’s better to just go ahead and do it. Rip off the band aid and get the pain out of the way as fast as possible, so to speak. Whatever happens, happens, and hopefully it’s nothing (too) upsetting.

I call my parents and tell them I’m coming to visit for Christmas, and I reveal -- while my hands are shaking and my heart is pounding from the anxiety consuming me -- that I want to bring my boyfriend.

Oh, I have a boyfriend? For how long? How did we meet? What’s he like? What’s his name? Why the wait to tell them about him?

I know it wouldn’t go over well to just show up at my parents home hanging off of the goddamn Riddler’s arm, like, “Oh, hey, my boyfriend is a criminal genius, don’t ya know?”

So, I approach telling them over the phone the truth slowly, cautiously. I say his name is Edward and we met kind of by accident and we’ve been dating for a good portion of the year. It’s my first Christmas with him, actually.

Wait, it’s been that long and I never told my them?! What the hell?!

Needless to say, they are baffled and also concerned about this news. 

I explain the awkward but less, uh, shocking news that he is an older man, and I was worried they’d be upset about that. They ask how old Edward is and I hesitate, wondering if I should lie and say he’s, like, in his early 50s because he could easily pass for that age. Hell, even I thought he was in his early 50s (or even very late 40s) when I first met him. 

However, honesty is the best policy, and this is not even the “bad” news yet. 

I say that he just turned 60 years old this year in a calm, cool, casual tone, like I’m talking about the weather and not revealing to my parents that I’m dating a guy who is my dad’s age.

There is silence and I internally panic because if they’re angered or appalled by this, they’re not going to handle finding out who Edward is well at all.

They are surprised, a little worried for my wellbeing because they think Edward’s some perverted Sugar Daddy to me. They don’t say it like that but it’s heavily implied.

I explain that’s not the case at all, that he’s actually very sweet towards me. 

My folks decide to go along with this bit of news because hey, I’m 33 years old. I’m an adult. I can date an older man if I want.

Then comes the “fun” part, which is revealing to them what Edward does for a living.

I laugh nervously, and Edward, who has been patiently sitting beside me on the couch, realizes what I’m about to tell my parents. He watches me closely, hoping this doesn’t turn into a disaster for my sake.

“Yeah, so, Edward, yeah...Edward is...well, he’s, um...Well, he’s, he’s a genius. Like a tech genius, great with electrical engineering, computers. And uh, his job, his profession, his, um, career? Yeah, that’s...well, he’s...”

I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst.

“He’s The Riddler, one of Gotham’s...elite....masterminds.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is so terrifying that I feel like I’m going to faint from how anxious I am. Edward places a hand on my knee as a means of comfort, still wanting to give me some space to breathe and calm down. 

My parents aren’t...thrilled, to say the least. I’m dating a fucking criminal mastermind?! I’m dating RIDDLER? THE RIDDLER? What the goddamn fresh hell is this?!

I start crying because I’m so stressed about this, and Edward moves closer so he can put his arm around me. He feels bad, he really does, and it shows in his troubled expression, but there’s not much he can do. It’s not like we can take this back and say, “Oh, hey, just kidding!” No, this was the truth and now we were dealing with the consequences.

I manage to get my parents to calm down long enough so I can get a word in. I get up off the couch and walk to another room to speak to them alone. 

I tell them I know it’s not the most pleasant news to hear, and I know it seems awful, but it’s the first time I have been with a man and he’s treated me well. Like, really well. It’s not just the nice gifts or expensive dinners. Edward does genuinely care about me. I don’t feel like a “booty call,” he doesn’t ignore me, he doesn’t threaten me, he’s never abused me and never will. He’s not the same person with me as he is with some other people. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

It takes some more convincing, but once I get it through to my parents that yes, I’m actually happy and yes, I’m safe and yes, Edward is a very doting boyfriend, they decide to meet him at Christmas. I know they will still have concerns and may be a bit cold to Edward at first, but I hope they would see what I see.

The day arrives and I’m a nervous wreck. Edward is worried for me. He  assures me that everything will be ok, and I want to believe but I’m still scared.

Deep down, he thinks maybe dating me is a bad idea -- not because he doesn’t love me but because he feels like he could damage my relationship with my parents. However, he doesn’t bring this up as he doesn’t want me to be even more upset than I already am.

Edward had brought with him some gifts for my parents and my grandma (she was staying with them, too). He brought the most most beautiful bouquet of flowers and a necklace for my grandma, a very lovely diamond bracelet for my mom, and a high-quality (aka expensive) watch for my dad.

I had to dress to impress and by that, dress in things Edward had given me to give my parents more visual proof that he was taking care of me. But I was careful not to overdo it. I didn’t want my parents to think I was his piece of...eye candy.

When we arrive, my parents greet us at the door, giving me a much warmer welcome than they give to Edward. They’re not rude to him, but they look uneasy, even a little irritated. 

Edward, being the charming bastard he is, keeps his calm and showcases his gentlemanly side. It’s genuine because he IS quite the gentleman as I have learned, but I don’t know if it will be enough to convince my parents to accept him.

They appreciate the gifts, seem a little caught off guard by the pricey but very lovely things Edward bought them. They also notice I’m wearing a dress that cost a pretty penny and jewelry just as extravagant. But none of it’s gaudy. 

Basically, I don’t look like Riddler’s trophy girlfriend.

Edward is courteous and charming, which seems to help my mom relax a bit. My dad still looks rather tense, though.

My grandma, being 90 and having frequent issues with memory, doesn’t remember who Edward actually is. My parents told her but she had forgotten and it was probably for the best. 

My grandma is impressed with Edward, finds him to be a proper, handsome gentleman type. She also was very grateful for the gifts he brought her.

Edward is very patient with my grandma, which I know isn’t easy due to her memory problems. But he is very relaxed, behaving pretty much like he does around me.

We all have dinner and chat, and the tension in the air lightens. My parents even laugh at a few humorous comments from Edward. He thanks my parents for allowing him to visit and for the wonderful dinner, and offers to help my parents clean up. 

Good. This gives my parents time alone with Edward which, as nerve-wracking as it is for me, is something that needs to happen. They need a one-on-one with my boyfriend...and hopefully it didn’t turn into a mess.

I stay with my grandma and act like everything’s fine as I anxiously wait to find out what my parents will ultimately think of Edward.

They are upfront with him once they’re alone with him, asking him if he’s putting up some kind of act or if this is all really him. They also ask if he genuinely cares for me or if he’s just using me because I’m “young and pretty.” They don’t hide their feelings, my parents, and they are concerned for my safety and happiness above all else. They NEED to know that Edward is good to me despite being Riddler. They can’t tell me who to be with but it would put their mind at ease if they were assured I was in good hands.

Edward is honest with them. He isn’t putting on a front. He is gentlemanly by nature with people he likes and respects, and he’s a bit old-fashioned in some ways anyway due to his age. He doesn’t fake his feelings for anyone, and while he does want my parents to accept him as my boyfriend, he knows it’s not an easy choice. He also tells them they have every right to reject him, and he won’t hold a grudge towards them about it if they do. 

If anything, he’s earned scorn more than kindness due to how he’s lived his life, and that’s fair. He accepts that.

But then he explains that no, I am not eye candy for him. He’s not a play boy looking for a “good time.” He’s serious about me and feels things towards me he’s never felt--never expected to feel. I’m the one thing in his dark and violent life that is bright and soothing, even though he’s done nothing in his life to deserve such a sweet and caring partner.

He tells them that I’m always protected and cared for, and he has made arrangements to ensure I’m still protected and cared for if -- or more realistically, when something happens to him. 

Being Riddler’s girlfriend has its perks. No one messes with me, that’s for sure, because they know I’m important to him, and they know what he is willing to do to keep me safe.

As scary as that is to hear, my parents find some relief in that. Yes, Edward is The Riddler, a criminal mastermind who strikes fear into many. However, he takes care of what is precious to him -- and not much is precious to him. Actually, nothing is save for me. I bring him a lot of joy and much-needed peace, and he’d give his life to protect me. 

I deserve to be happy, he tells my parents, because I am a good person unlike him, and he works hard to make sure I know I’m loved and cared for, that I’m good enough and that he has no intentions of leaving me or cheating on me for someone else.

Edward also assures my parents that, should they need anything, he can provide. Of course, he won’t force his help on them but he won’t ever turn them away either. He looks out for those that mean a lot to me, who are close to me, regardless of who they are and how they feel about him. That is a promise he makes to my parents, too.

He also comments on how they have been taking care of my grandma pretty much on their own for a couple years now, and he knows from what he has observed and from things I’ve told him that it is a very exhausting duty. It’s an admirable one, though, for sure, and he respects my parents for being good people. 

He sees where I get my kind nature, he tells them.

He says that he can pay for live-in help for them, like a live-in nurse, someone who can help take care of my grandma and let my parents have a break every now and again. Also, should she need anything that isn’t covered by her insurance, he will cover the costs.

Same goes for my parents, who aren’t the healthiest people in their old age (Edward has the regenerative properties of the LOTUS virus on his side -- they don’t). He doesn’t tell them that obviously, that they’re unhealthy, but he says should they need any expenses covered for treatments, medication, etc., he can provide.

Because he is THAT serious about me.

My parents are, to say the least, much more confident in my relationship with Edward now that they’ve talked with him one on one. They give him their blessing, so to speak, to be my boyfriend, and appreciate his generosity. They do ask for help with live-in aid for my grandma, and Edward says pick who they want and he’ll pay whatever insurance won’t cover. 

I am beyond relieved that my parents have decided to accept Edward, and am so grateful to him for offering his help to them...because they need it and deserve it.

He tells me it’s no trouble at all, that whatever makes me happy makes him happy, and he’s more than willing to aid those that are important to me.

Edward and I stay over Christmas Eve so we can spend more time with my family on Christmas Day. We get the guest room which has a small bed, so we’re “forced” to get close.

Of course, I can’t resist tempting him even now, and he doesn’t turn me down. I do warn him that we have to be careful because, hey, my folks are here in this house and I’m not the quietest lover.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he tells me with a smirk. “I came prepared for any eventuality.”

Needless to say, I need to be gagged because Edward makes sure I have a Merry Fucking Christmas -- literally -- and also makes sure I know how much he both loves and desires me.

We decide to leave out the whole Dom/Sub aspect of our relationship in regards to my parents. 

We also don’t tell them about how I call Edward, “Daddy” almost any other time 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦💦

My mom also refuses to believe he’s 60 years old because he’s so good-looking  😄

[jtrbluv]

“F 2020!” - TXT

it’s 3:30am and i’m 2 lazy to make a header so here’s yoongi, i promise i have nicer handwriting

wow, i literally have no idea where to start. it’s almost my three year anniversary of being on this hellsite, but i think i can definitely say that 2020 has probably been one of my favorite years by far, and i am really grateful for it. i think 2020 was a year i was able to improve a lot in my writing despite not producing and releasing a lot of content. quarantine finally allowed me to actually sit down and focus on writing more than i ever have before, and shit, it felt good! it finally felt like i was able to write for myself and not just to please others, and it felt so rewarding rawr (•̀ᴗ•́)و

to all my followers, thank you all so so much. each and every single one of you are a huge reason as to why i’m still here and continue to write. all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and more mean the absolute world to me and other writers as well. i think as content creators we can all say that we all go back and scroll through all your messages. thank you for continuing to support me and hopefully i can manage to gift more fics to you this year! luv u all so much <33

to all my mutuals, whether we’ve talked once, twice, never, or a lot, thank you so much for letting me into your world! i really appreciate and luv each and every one of you and always enjoy seeing you all around my dash, we love 2 see it!! i wish you all the best and pls never hesitate to talk to me, i’ll always be here through but especially to support you and hype you all up!! >:) <33

i was going to tag people, but i don’t wanna risk missing anyone T-T. hopefully, you all know who you are :)) just know i luv u fr

lastly, here are some sappy ass luv letters to some of you in particular, sry in advance 🥶🥶

@koushiningg - yeah, of course your ass is going first. hey jae bae, bestie 4L, partner-in-crime, the one person who’s read every, and i mean EVERY single one of my fics. it irks me how much you’re always able to write out your feelings towards the people you care about, bc i SUCK at it! so yes, thank you so much for just being you, i’ll write u a sappy long letter for ur grad email but for now, thank u so much for putting up with my dumbass, listening to me ramble abt the ideas i get at the asscrack of dawn, reading my fics, supporting me in everything that i do. i love u sm fr. here is to the year that we’ve been waiting for, 2021. let’s make it our year.

@taehyungieskith - mika bae........ to think that you were still a local this year is so silly to think abt, i still remember us in the 400s and me giving u song recs in the band room GAHAHDHAJ. i love the little book club type shit we be doing, i always love ur recs duh wtf. thank u twin for always hyping up my stuff and thank god u arent on wattpad anymore mhm love u twin jumi #2 fr

@viopera - VIO!!! we’ve met recently but it feels like i’ve known u for awhile now. literally i’m so happy cuz i remember telling u to write fics and u were straight up like “no.” and now here we are RAWR! u should know this by now and u probably do but i will always be ur #1 supporter and eternal beta-reader. i hope you’re feeling better and ily my fav corpse stan and bad bitch!!!!

@bangtans-peaceful-piegon - AHH PIDGE!!! if i can remember correctly, you were one of the first people i actually talked to on the fic hub server and wow you are just the cutest and literal sweetest thing. we clicked so easily and the vibes u give off are just absolutely impeccable. i love u and i’m always here for u !!! <33

@sugacouture - AYO MEI!!! istg we literally just started talking frfr like a couple days ago but it’s like i’ve known u for years, like wtf. we literally have the same humor and vibes and it’s been rly swag talking to u. i am also more than happy to be ur eternal beta-reader and header helper if that wasn’t already clear duh <3 yeah you are so cute and you write so well that it’s unfair. mhm. unfair. *inserts that one taekook photo* love u, i’ll kidnap u and we’ll get boba and pho <3

@dreamystuffers - RACH!!!!!! rach you truly mesmerize me bc you are so freaking multi-talented, it leaves me in awe. i’m so happy you’ve continued to do what you do luv!! i will always be here and supporting u thru whatever u do!!! luv u sm!! <33

@tatastaetae - marria bby! hi!! ik we don’t talk that much but when we do you’re always such a joy to talk to! the range in ur fics is insane and i always love 2 see it! love u sm and i’m always here for u luv (i swear i’ll be more active on servers wjdjsjjds)

@pjmsdior - bella!!! we haven’t talked for that long either but i always love meeting fil moots!!! you are the sweetest thing and just know that i’ll always be here for u if u need anyone to talk to!!! if i was rich, i’d buy us both new phones in a heartbeat bc our phone literally hate us and for WHAT. kk luv u bella mwah <3

@suhdays - MO! oh my i rly do mean it when i say that u have got to be one of the sweetest and most genuine ppl i’ve met so far this year on this hellsite. ty for making me feel so welcome on the discord servers and networks despite me not being super active on there. when i do get money, i do wish to buy from your etsy shop T-T ,, you are literally the best and deserve the world mo, love u !

@jinpanman - mai! hiii!!! i know we don’t talk much but i’d just like to thank u for the sheer kindness and sweetness you’ve always treated me with! on the occasions that we do talk, you are such a sweetheart omg. ur fics are absolutely to die for and ilysm bby <3

@softguks - AHHDHJE LAUR! when i save u best 4 last <3. we’ve honestly barely interacted at all but you are the most sweetest thing ever, you make my heart full!!! i hope we’re able to interact more in the future and that u come back soon!

- ur local laur luvbot

my secret admirer, hi! i’m not sure if you’ll see this or not since i obviously can’t tag u, but i rly do appreciate u and all the messages u send 🥺🥺 sometimes i go back to them and read them over bc they’re actually so sweet and this is my first actual anon interaction rawr ;w; like always, i wish u nothing but the best and pls take care ☀️ anon!!! <3

sending luv and good vibes to all of u for the new year, always <3

— love, jumi (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

[chrwrites]

Take Me As You Please - Chapter 2

read on ao3

Ch 1

When Marinette got home, she was welcomed by the smell of basil and her mum’s warm smile “How was your day, dear?”

It was heavy, I feel like shit and I just want to go to sleep.

“It was alright” was all she said while she took a plate of fresh trofie with pesto and sat at the dining table.

Her parents talked about their day as Marinette forced herself to eat at least half the portion she was given, she wasn’t going to starve herself because her two-year crush found someone better than her, was she? She took another forkful of green covered pasta as she realized that that colour was the same as the eyes that looked at her just as a friend. Oh, didn’t her mind come up with weird connections.

She twirled the fork in her hand before she heard her dad’s voice call her name, and looked up from her plate to find a worried look on her parents’ face. She knew what was coming, she had been awfully silent for the whole meal and of course they had noticed despite her trying to hide it.

 “Are you alright?” her dad asked.

Of course I am! It’s not like Adrien has started dating my friend and I have to force myself to be happy for them and it sucks that I missed every opportunity I had to confess to him in the first place and I hate myself for this.

“Yeah! I’m just tired, today’s been a long day,” think Marinette, you’re the master of making up excuses “I spent the afternoon working on some new designs and Luka asked me if I could design something for his friend's band. I thought about what I could do so much that I got tired, that's all!” this time making up something wasn’t even difficult since it was kind of the truth. Marinette flashed a smile at them, thinking about it, she hadn’t texted Luka yet. She took her phone from her pocket and typed a quick message under the table.

Hey, I'm home!

“Oh, that’s great! What are you going to do?” Tom asked, eager to know what his daughter had in mind this time.

“I don’t know yet, I still have to talk about the whole concept with the band, in fact I should talk to Luka about it. I’m going to my room!” she got up from her chair, but as she was about to take her half full plate and put it away, her mum gently put a hand on hers to stop her “You don’t have to clean up tonight, I’ll take care of it. Go get some rest, dear” she said showing a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, mama” Marinette gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room.

She let out a sigh of relief as soon as she collapsed on the chaise longue in the corner of her room.

“Mariette, how are you feeling?” Tikki’s small voice talked to her ear hesitantly.

“Awful” was all she managed to say before tears started streaming from her eyes and the small Kwami floated around her face trying to stop her tears from falling, whispering words of comfort.

“It’s gonna be alright Marinette, you’re not alone” the red creature said sweetly when Marinette’s sobs got lighter.

“I-I know, if… if I can save Paris… someone not... liking me back is… nothing… right?” she blurted out. At least she could count on the little creature floating across her face for any of her problems, she could fully be herself with Tikki without being afraid to give in too much information since they knew everything. The Kwami also helped her avoid to be swallowed by dark thoughts and the risk that getting akumatized implied, Marinette couldn’t be other than grateful for them.

“You need time for yourself dear, just this. And if you really want to compare this experience to what you’ve gone through as Ladybug you can, but don’t use it to belittle what you’re feeling right now, or to not feel it at all. Unfortunately, you have to go through this before you can get over it” Tikki said in a soft voice and put a small hand on her face, the delicate touch refreshing Marinette’s irritated skin. How long had she been crying? “I know it’s gonna be hard, but it will get better. I promise” the small creature concluded and floated around the room to get a tissue for her holder. Marinette thanked them and wiped the tears from her face, giving her Kwami a small smile as they gave her a tiny kiss on her cheek. She laid on her back in the chaise longue, taking deep and steady breaths to make sure she had completely calmed down before standing up.

Her heart still hurt when she got up, but there was a tiny hint of hope in her to make that weight somewhat easier to carry. She decided to take a shower before changing into her pyjamas and when she got to bed, she checked her phone. There were messages from the groupchat she had with her friends, a text from Alya, and Luka’s answer to her text.

She skimmed through the messages in the groupchat and found a few memes that made her chuckle. Tikki, who was lying on her shoulder, gave her a curious look.

In her message, Alya asked if it was alright if she could come over in the afternoon, Marinette typed in an affirmative answer and then checked Luka’s chat.

so you did remember to text me uh?

i was starting to get worried ahah

Yeah, sorry about that

I got distracted

it’s fine mari, you don’t owe me any explanation

i’m glad you got home safe

are you feeling any better?

Marinette stared at her screen for a moment, she didn’t know why she was surprised at the fact that Luka cared about her when he always made it clear, he was the most genuine guy she’s ever known apart from A– never mind, if she thought about him she would've started crying again.

Yeah, thank you for asking

I don't feel like thinking about it tho

She was typing something to divert the attention from her, something like how are YOU feeling? She really wanted to focus on him, they were always talking about her and how she felt. Luka so selflessly put himself aside for her and never talked about things that bothered him, but Marinette felt like he needed to let out his thoughts too, and she knew he did it through music but she wanted to be there for him just like he was there for her. Her phone vibrated in her hands as a new message appeared in the chat.

i might have something that won’t make you think about it ;)

There was an mp3 file titled “sleep alone” attached to the message, was that a new song? What would it be about? The title didn’t really convince her, it made her imagine it was a song about being lonely and it really wasn’t what she needed, but she trusted Luka enough to know he would never do anything that could’ve made her feel worse. It must have been the quiet tune she heard him play when she got on the Liberty that same afternoon. Eager to listen to his new creation, she grabbed her earphones from her nightstand, put an earbud on and passed the other one to her Kwami in order to let them listen too.

When she pressed play, the sound of Lukas’s acoustic guitar filled her head. It wasn’t the mellow song he was playing on the deck that afternoon. This one was energetic yet sweet, and she could hear Luka's voice humming along the upbeat melody. The happy, comforting sound made Marinette feel lighter. The melody ran quicker before ending with a slower, gentler tune as she was smiling in awe at her phone screen. Her heart felt full and less lonely, she wondered how Luka could be so good at comforting people just with his guitar, or through his light touches.

“Wow, that was very good!” the carefree feeling of the song caught Tikki as well who was now flying around Marinette’s face happily singing the melody, Marinette watched the red spot dance around her delighted and couldn’t help but agree.

LUKA I LOVE THIS IT’S BEAUTIFUL

YOU’RE SO TALENTED

THANK YOU THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED

I FEEL WAY BETTER NOW

But why did you name it sleep alone?

I was expecting something completely different given the title tbh

Of course she had to ask, it wouldn’t be like her not wanting to know all the details behind the songs he wrote. Sometimes he would tell her, sometimes he would be cryptic and she wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept behind his art. Marinette knew Luka was very reserved about the meaning behind the songs, probably the only people to know the real meaning behind them were Juleka and Rose because they were directly involved in the whole song writing process. Marinette remembered Luka saying something about him having song writing sessions with someone else, but she never questioned it further since she didn’t want to sound invasive.

you’ll know it if i get to convince the band to play it next week

i’m happy it helped you feel better

now get some sleep mari, it’s late and you need to rest

goodnight xx.

Ugh, fine

I’ll help you convince them if I have to

Goodnight Luka, thank you for being there for me

Marinette put her phone on the nightstand, wished Tikki goodnight and closed her eyes. She drifted to sleep as Luka’s song was playing in her head like a lullaby, making her feel safe and peaceful. She couldn’t imagine that her friend, in his bedroom, was still staring at his phone screen.

That’s exactly what I needed.

Knowing that he made Marinette happy, Luka felt fulfilled, and he tried to ignore the pit forming in his stomach. That’s exactly what I needed. He knew she didn’t mean this the way he wished she meant it, but he couldn’t help but think that he could give her what she needed. That’s exactly what I needed. The words didn’t leave his mind. That’s exactly what I needed. He wanted to be everything she needed. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, hold her hand, take her out… Hell, he’d even serenade her. That’s exactly what I needed.

But to her, Luka was just a friend, a very close friend indeed, but still a friend. Thank you for being there for me. He could only dream about keeping her closer the way more than friends did and holding her in his sleep. Maybe he had to stop thinking about her in that way and not write songs about her anymore, but every time he looked at Marinette, the melody of her heart played in his head louder and louder. He wished he could listen to it forever. That’s exactly what he needed.

[onthepageoftears]

Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.3 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: this chapter is pretty much all fluff but I think it is well deserved ;)

Summary: An ‘atmosphere of love’ has many facets.

Warnings: language, fluff fluff FLUFF!!, maybe mentions of death/killing? literally thats it lol

Words: 2,395

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The euphoria you felt after…the kiss — it was electrifying. It coursed through your veins all night as the two of you were in the bed you previously thought would be an issue, but now were silently thanking the inn owner for. You and Jaskier spent the rest of the night just laying there, shifting in and out of sleep, every so often giving the other a lingering touch on their face or hands or arms. It was the best sleep you had in a long, long time.

But of course, this euphoria couldn’t last.

As soon as you woke up the next day, you were determined. As exhilarated as you were from your kiss with Jaskier, your mind was occupied with another focus: your mother. After months of not having a real mission, or target, a familiar feeling coursed over you that you didn’t quite realize you missed: you felt like you had a purpose again, and this time it felt even more powerful because it was a purpose you gave yourself.

That didn’t mean it was easy. Weeks seemed to go by in a flash — weeks of you going page by page through Rauf’s old journals and notes. At every new entry you were practically fighting the urge to rip the pages to shreds, or burn them, or hang them and use them as target practice. It was safe to say your memories of Rauf were tainted by his last moments, and even though you had nightmares every now and again, nothing could beat the disdain you had for the man.

The research was torture. Complete and utter torture.

But, even as you struggled to search for any sign of your mother’s whereabouts, Jaskier was always there to distract you when you needed it. And distractions were something you needed a lot.

A distraction could come in many different facets. Training, drinks in the tavern, a walk in the woods. But it could also be slightly more…straightforward.

If you got too frustrated with Rauf’s words hanging in your mind, you’d get up from your seat and rush over to Jaskier, who was usually practicing his lute. He’d move it out of the way in time for you to practically jump him; you’d let him grab your waist as you sat in his lap, not bothering to explain as you shared a heated kiss. You two would move to the rhythm you had come to find, all before you removed yourself from him like nothing ever happened. By now, he was used to it — and neither of you were complaining. Again, it was one of the many perks to having him around while you were doing your research.

But even small breaks like that couldn’t keep you sane for long. And Jaskier knew that —which is why he so giddily told you of a wedding banquet performance he landed.

It was no surprise that he got the job — you’d seen how easy it was for him to perform, and his talent was something you had grown to admire. But the surprise came in the suggestion after his good news.

Jaskier’s lips straightened into a thin line before he grimaced, already knowing the words he would speak could be the death of him.

“I need a date.”

You straightened in your spot, nearly disregarding the pile of papers in your lap. “Huh?”

“For the wedding banquet? The illustrious performance? I need a date. A plus one, if you will.”

You deepened your frown. You, at a wedding? The only time you were close to a wedding was when you had a target who was an invite, and even then, you…eliminated him as he drunkenly stumbled just outside the banquet premises.

Now, you certainly wouldn’t let Jaskier go alone to a banquet, especially one with such a gathering. The two of you still weren’t sure if he was completely safe after your guild was destroyed, so even seemingly safe places were a risk. But for you to actually be present inside the party rather than lingering on the outside? That wasn’t something you were ready to be apart of.

You shook your head at the bard whose bottom lip stuck out in a plea, “No. Not happening.”

Jaskier groaned, “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Jaskier—“

“I’ve never taken you on a proper date, Y/N, and this is the closest thing we’ll get to one.” Your features softened at his sincerity. “I’ve been improving in training, not fighting the long, treacherous, hours I am forced to duel with such a wonderful human as yourself—“ Your scoff only made him louder, “I think I deserve a reward, hm? And you as well.”

He gestured to the papers in your lap, eyebrows raised in censure.

You clicked your tongue, “Your idea of a reward is dragging me to a wedding banquet?”

“One I will be getting paid heftily for and will have lots and lots of free food.” You raised your brows, not convinced. Jaskier groaned, taking your hands in his own. “What will convince you to say yes?”

You blinked, “Not much.”

The sternness in your eyes softened as he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips. It was so sweet, so simple, that you had to force yourself not to swoon when you parted. With his forehead to your own, he whispered, “Please?”

You sighed, regretting how easy it was for him to make you cave, “Fine.”

“Spectacular!” Jaskier jumped away from you, clapping his hands together with a wide smile. “I have your outfit on the way.”

Your voice couldn’t have been drier, “Great.”

—

As soon as you and Jaskier made it to the banquet, it was painfully obvious you had never set foot in one before. You were constantly tugging at the clothes Jaskier picked for you, feeling like they were too tight or too loose or just wildly uncomfortable. They were stunning, sure, but on you, it felt just…wrong. You were so grateful that Jaskier didn’t have a fit about you keeping your knives on you — the long sleeves and cuffs covered them up enough. That helped you feel at least a tiny bit more comfortable — that, and Jaskier at your side.

The two of you strode into the main hall like you owned the place. And by ‘the two of you’, it was almost 100% Jaskier. He smiled genuinely at the royals he passed, complimented people whenever he could, and even recognized a few of them. It was moments like this that you forgot Jaskier was put through all the events of the guild, and that you were apart of it. Before then, this was probably a normal occurrence. Performances might have been the craziest part of his life.

While all this was happening, you tried to look natural. You didn’t know what the proper etiquette of a date was, so you just let Jaskier lead you wherever you went. He sat with you at the table you were given, chatting lowly with you as the rest of the guests arrived.

“How do you feel?” He asked, his hand resting on your own.

You took a sharp breath in. I feel like I don’t belong. But the truth wasn’t something Jaskier should hear right now — not before his performance.

You sighed. “How do you feel? Are you ready to go up there?”

“I was born ready.”

“Of course.”

A strange silence fell over you two. It wasn’t something you were used to. Silence with Jaskier was the strangest feeling. It wasn’t like you two couldn’t just sit in each other’s presence without speaking— the difference this time was that Jaskier was looking at you like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words.

But soon, he did. “What do you think of weddings?”

“I don’t, really.” You turned to him slightly, removing your gaze from the people around you. “Why?”

“I’ve been to a lot of banquets, a lot of weddings. No matter how many times I perform, nothing quite beats the atmosphere of true love, does it?”

You searched his face, then shrugged. “I suppose not.” Quite frankly, you didn’t know what atmosphere he was talking about. The only things you noticed in places like this were the amount of people and the possible dangers. And you always made sure to take account of every exit, just in case. But love? And true love, at that?

You were still mulling his observation over when he spoke again, “Did I tell you that you’re wonderful today?”

The heat rose to your skin quicker than you could cough out a ‘yes’. Because, indeed, Jaskier had made a point of complimenting you, and had done so multiple times on the way over. And every time, it didn’t fail to make you flustered.

Being with Jaskier didn’t mean you were used to his charm.

By the time your face finally cooled down, it was time for him to perform. He patted your hand, a silent reminder that he would be back very soon. But while he performed, his eyes would only wander from yours for a fraction of time — and when they found yours again, they seemed starved of your presence, starved of your gaze.

As you watched him play, you were taken back to one of the first moments you shared. He had let you play his lute — or, try to. Watching him now, you didn’t even want to recall how awful it had sounded when you did it. But you supposed that wasn’t the point. Good sound or not, it brought you two together.

—

The night was going longer than you expected. If you were being honest, you were a little bored. There was no point to a banquet other than having a good time, no fights to keep your mind occupied — well, except for the two men in a fighting match over who killed more elves. Other than that, all you could do was watch Jaskier perform and wonder how much time was left in this ‘atmosphere of love’.

Eventually, Jaskier’s performance was concluded. The band behind him continued playing, becoming immediately worse as soon as he stopped singing. You smiled as he accepted compliments from guests on his way over to you. Though you were a bit restless in environments like this, seeing him in his element was always worth it.

That’s what you thought until he came up to you, reaching his hand out for you to accept.

Your smile immediately turned into a glare. “You are not making me dance here, Jaskier.”

Jaskier laughed, making your stiffened body relax, “No, I am not.”

Though you were relieved, you frowned, taken back by his words. “Why?”

“Because you don’t like it. Last time I tried to make you dance with me you told me you’d rather stab your own eye out.” Jaskier let his hand fall to his side. “Why would I make you do something you hate?”

You blinked, still surprised by how well he knew you. “What do you suppose we should do now, then?”

Jaskier looked around him, “Well…we could leave.”

“But—“

“My performance is over and this wedding banquet is a drag.” Jaskier’s smile made your heart leap, “Besides, we can have much more fun back in our room.”

It was impossible for you to miss his wink, and still, it made your skin feel like it was on fire.

Wordlessly, you let him take your hand, and the two of you practically ran out of that achingly boring banquet.

—

“Well that was a bit dull, wasn’t it?”

Jaskier dropped his lute into its case as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You lifted your leg onto the nearby chair to remove your knives, “Apart from your performance, I would have rather listened to Geralt snore.”

“He would kill you if he heard that.”

You snorted, “He would try.”

With a huff, you put your knives on the table and looked down at the outfit Jaskier chose for you. After this long of a night, they didn’t feel as uncomfortable as they did before — still, you didn’t think you would ever wear it again. But something about the way Jaskier was sitting in the chair beside the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt, it made something shift inside of you.

With a click of your tongue, you walked over to Jaskier with your hand stretched towards him.

He frowned, “What’s this?”

You shrugged, “I owe you a dance.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I don’t like dancing. In public.” You pointedly looked around the room, then back to Jaskier. “I don’t see anyone but us in here.”

To his silence, you stretched your hand further, urging him to take it.

He did.

In the silence of the room, you felt like everything was so loud. Jaskier fell into position so naturally that it took you aback — his hand fell on your waist, his other one grabbing your own in a simultaneously strong and soft grip, pulling your body close enough to his to feel his chest rise and fall against yours. And just like that, you were dancing.

Okay, Jaskier was dancing. You tried to follow as closely as possible, but dancing was never something you were taught as a child. Or an adult, for that matter. And even though it was commonly compared to fighting, you couldn’t seem to get the hang of where your feet should go and when.

It was the third time you stepped on Jaskier’s foot when he snorted a laugh, “You need lessons.”

You finally looked up from the floor and back at his face, no longer worrying about where your feet went. “Shut up.”

“Okay.”

His head dipped closer to yours, forehead resting against your own as if asking for permission for a kiss. You both knew he didn’t need it, but the gesture made you smile. And then your eyes fell to his lips, smile falling as you closed the remaining space between you two — and even though it definitely wasn’t the first time, the kiss engulfed you in that euphoric feeling your remembered so clearly, the feeling that followed you ever since you and Jaskier became a ‘we’.

And suddenly, that ‘atmosphere of true love’ that Jaskier mentioned earlier that evening…it didn’t seem so foreign anymore.

———————————————————————————————————

:,))))

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 13

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking

Beta:  @ilikaicalie​

*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

The long dining table in the great hall is packed with your esteemed guests and their advisors. Sam is seated at the head of the table with you to his left, and Dean on his right. Katherine is seated next to you, and Luther next to Dean, followed by your parents and then various cohorts and so on.

The first course is a bit awkward as you struggle to make polite conversation, but after a few glasses of wine everyone livens up and the interaction seems to come more easily.

“It’s rather hot in here.” Katherine shifts beside you fanning herself, looking uncomfortable in her own skin. “The fire is blazing.”

You look across the room at the flames licking in the enormous hearth. As far as you’re concerned the castle is always cold. Some days it feels as if you’ll never get warm.

“We’ll have someone open a window,” you offer, raising your finger as a servant girl scurries to your side. “Have that window opened and please bring Queen Katherine a glass of cool water.”

The moment the window is cracked Katherine breathes a sigh of relief and you shiver, forcing a smile. Dean’s been watching the entire interaction and looks at you for a moment before gesturing his glass in your direction.

“If you ate more you wouldn’t so cold all the time,” he observes as you focus on him.

Somewhere along the way you and your brother-in-law found yourself at constant odds. You’ve tried, you really have, but Dean doesn’t care for you and makes no effort to hide his disdain.

“Thank you for that helpful advice.” You glare at him.

“You’re too skinny,” Dean continues, attracting the attention of Luther, who’s been making conversation with Sam.

“She looks fine to me.” Luther grins and out of the corner of your eye, you see his wife cock her head.

“She is fine just as she is,” Sam pipes up, eyes honing in on you. “Leave her alone.”

“It’s alright,” you offer, looking down the table desperate for someone to take the focus from you.

Your mother catches your reaction and smiles, all too pleased to take over the conversation.

“Samuel,” she raises her glass in his direction. “I can’t tell you how grateful my husband and I are that you and our daughter seem to be such a complementary match.”

You’re not sure where this is going, but you don’t care for it one bit. Sam seems to sense your unease, he always does. His hand curls over yours where it rests on the table giving you a gentle squeeze.

“I am lucky to have her.” Your husband offers a grim smile. Sam is generous with his affection behind closed doors, but he’s well aware of his appearance, especially in front of Luther.

“What kind words,” she bats her eyes, flicking from you to Sam. “I know all too well how challenging she can be. It seems you’ve been able to instill a level of expectation and discipline in her that her father never had the stomach for.”

You choke on your wine, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide. Dean lets out a boisterous chuckle before gaining control of his demeanor. Your mother has unwittingly touched on the most divisive aspect of your marriage. Heat rises in your cheeks as you stare at your goblet.

“My apologies,” she smirks, looking around innocently. “Have I touched on a sensitive subject?”

“You’ve no idea-” Dean adds.

“Enough,” Sam intercedes, setting down his drink. “We haven’t heard from you Luther, how are you faring with such a cold winter settling in?”

“It’s awful, isn’t it? Frigid, awful white everywhere. And the villagers always complain, they’re never happy with what we give them.”

“This year it’s the rationing of firewood.” Katherine waves her hand, disgusted. “One would think we don’t give them anything.”

“Rationing firewood?” You’re unsure of what that means. “Why would one ration firewood?”

“Perhaps ration is not the most accurate.”

“They tax the people for cutting down the trees,” Dean interjects. “Isn’t that right? Every log comes at a price.”

“It’s fair recompense,” Luther explains calmly. “The trees belong to me, not to mention the services and protections I offer in exchange. But to hear them tell it, we’re heartless.”

“What do they do if they can’t afford the tax?” you press, feeling your loathing of the man rise into your throat.

“They usually find a way,” he sighs. “They always over dramatize the situation. It’s important not to get caught up in the hysteria.”

“But what of families with children?” You look at Sam, who’s wearing an unreadable stare. “And the elderly? Surely it’s dangerous for them in this kind of cold without easy access to kindling?”

“What a bleeding heart your wife has.” Luther is speaking to Sam but looking at you with a look of pitied amusement on his fat face. “There are always deaths in the winter, it’s part of living in a hard country.”

“Deaths?” You’re horrified, trying to understand why everyone else at the table isn’t as appalled as you are. “That’s utterly unforgivable,” you sputter.

“Oh my,” Katherine chuckles, entertained by your reaction.

“Y/N,” Sam’s hand on yours again. “I think that’s enough-”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” you spit, looking around the table. You lean forward to see your father, who’s watching you carefully, his eyes darting to Sam to gauge your husband’s reaction to this outburst. It’s a gesture that makes your blood boil.  “Wasn’t it you, dear father, who always told me that the measure of a man is how he treats those most in need?”

“Well, I-” Alexander looks to Luther who’s still in good spirits. “That’s true but-”

“My wife has a soft heart,” Sam intercedes again.

“She certainly speaks freely,” Katherine sits back in her chair, sipping her wine. “I’m surprised you allow such an outburst.”

“An outburst?” You’re really fired up now. “Would you like to see a true outburst-”

“Y/N,” Sam says your name louder his time, his hand curling around your wrist and squeezing hard enough that you sit back, looking to him. “Let’s all take a breath.”

“My wife learned to hold her tongue a long time ago, perhaps you need to-” Luther can’t help himself.

“I do not need advice, Luther.” Sam’s angry now and it’s in large part to you not being able to hold your tongue.

“I’m just saying,” Luther gives you a look from stem to stern before looking to Sam. “If she was my wife, I’d set some expectations.”

“She is not your wife. This is her home and she’s free to share her opinions.” Sam grits back.

There’s an undeniable flutter in your belly to hear him defend you so ardently. You suspect he may not put up such a united front once you’re behind closed doors, but Luther is testing his resolve. He already sees you as Sam’s weak spot and he now knows exactly how to get a rise of him. Sam is quick to jealousy, he can’t control it and Luther has found the trigger.

“Forgive me,” you reign yourself in, taking a deep breath and setting a polite smile across your face. “I had no intention of souring the mood.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Dean chimes in, staring from across the table.

“Let us move on to happier topics, shall we?” Your mother moves the conversation along.

You sit quietly and listen to the chattering going on around you, still seething internally as you watch Luther make a pig of himself. Katherine is no better with her obnoxious laugh and an ongoing list of complaints. First, it was too hot, then it’s too cold, her pudding is much too firm and her wine not sweet enough. You suffer through course after course as the minutes turn into hours. Everyone is a bit drunk by the time the final round of spirits arrive and you want nothing more than to retreat back to your chambers.

“...and that’s how I knew she was married!” Dean finishes his story and the entire hall erupts in laughter. His tales never disappoint and expertly walk the line of humor and impropriety. He does have a way with people, you’ll give him that. Sam’s brother is an expert in disarming and charming nearly everyone, save for you.

Looking to Sam you find him fixed on Luther, his face blank as he’s lost in thought.

Behind closed doors, you’ve found Sam to be a gentle, patient man. He’s a combination of attributes that you would have never imagined could exist in one person. His sometimes gruff exterior and brooding demeanor are offset by a soft touch and his willingness to listen to you with genuine interest. He’s both gentle and fierce when need be, so it’s easy for you to forget that the husband you know intimately is not the same man that he presents to the world. He takes his position seriously, he considers his role as a commitment to the people he rules over.

“Alexander,” Sam speaks up and the entire room falls silent. “Tell me, have you ever had occasion to deal with poachers?”

Luther sits back, looking around the table as if he’s looking forward to another wild tale.

“Yes,” your father nods thoughtfully. “Some years ago, when Y/N was just a child we dealt with bands of men coming into our lands from Westfort.”

“Ah,” Sam nods, setting his wine on the table. “Hunters?”

“Fisherman. They would row across the channel and up in the estuary. They nearly fished us dry one summer.” Looking to Sam your father is not sure where this is going but you have no doubt as you glance up to catch Dean’s eye.

“And what action did you take?” Sam presses on, resting his forearm on the table.

“At first we issued warnings. I spoke with King Harold and we came to an agreement.”

“Will you share with us? I’m in need of new ideas.”

“Of course,” your father has really perked up now, always thrilled to contribute. “Harold announced to his people that the infraction would come with a severe penalty. That worked for a time, then he gave me the autonomy to dole out consequences as I saw fit. Some of the men coming to fish did it to feed their families, we just ran them off, gave them a good scare. But the men who came to poach and sell for profit? They ended up in the stocks when we could catch them.”

“I see.” Sam thinks on this for a moment. “Perhaps you could help me with my problem?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Alexander smiles softly from your husband to you.

“Luther’s men have been poaching wolves from our land. Encroaching further and further-”

“Now just one moment!” Luther cuts him off. “I don’t think this is-”

“It’s not just animals, there have been murders.”

“The culprits remain unverifiable!” Luther contends, thrusting a finger toward Sam.

“Ay, there is no way to be sure,” Katherine shrugs beside you, looking unphased despite everything going on around her.

“Let us not play, we both know they are your men!” Sam shouts, his fist coming down with a mighty bang that rattles the table. “I’m trying to be civil about this, but my patience is wearing thin.”

“I’m not entirely sure I like your tone,” Luther cocks a brow, it’s the first look of genuine annoyance you’ve seen from him.

“Good. I need you to understand how serious this is.”

“Your precious wolves,” Luther waves his hand dismissively and Katherine chuckles. Your mother remains silent and your father tries to keep the peace.

“Perhaps we could sit down later and talk about this.”

“We have talked, and then we talked more. Talking has gotten us nowhere.” Sam's eyes are on fire, boring holes into Luther. His reaction seems disproportionate, leading you to believe that there’s more to the story than he’s shared with you.

“Dean,” Luther turns to the eldest son. “You need to talk some sense into your brother. This is not the way to make friends.”

“Enough!” Sam shouts again, standing with both hands on the table as he leans in. “My brother isn’t the one you should be worried about appeasing. If you refuse to handle this, I will. I’m ordering any man not a citizen of Lebanon to be shot on sight.”

“Sam,” Dean starts but one look from his brother and he falls silent.  

“That’s a bit of an overreaction don’t you think?” Luther tips his head, remaining calm and collected.

“We’ll find out.” Sam looks down the table at the rest of your guests, glancing at your father. “Please stay, eat and drink until you’ve had your fill. I’m retiring for the night.”

Sam looks to you and you get up, smiling weakly. “Goodnight.”

--

“The man is a tyrant!” Sam mutters, pacing back and forth in your chambers.

“I am so sorry. I think I’m the one who set the tone for the night.” You sigh. “But I couldn’t hold my tongue. He’s such an awful man I don’t think it’s acceptable for everyone to act like that. Even if the things he does are-”

“I’m not upset with you,” Sam steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You once told me that you were afraid that being married to me meant that you’d be seen but never heard. That couldn’t be further from the truth. While it wasn’t the best time to express your displeasure, I won’t ever silence you. At least not on matters of ethics and compassion. You are entitled to an opinion as much as anyone.”

You sigh, smiling up at him in relief.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with your brother. Luther doesn’t serve to live.”

“You think I should have him killed?” He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for such extremes.”

“By allowing Luther to live, others will die, innocent people.” You can feel the anger returning. “He’s a bad man.”

“Yes, he is,” Sam cups your face, examining thoughtfully as if the physical contact calms him. “I’m going to take care of him, one way or the other.”

You’re not sure what that means but you don’t ask for clarification. Everything surrounding Luther is unsavory and you wish to forget about him.

“I was so looking forward to tonight and now I wish I could erase it from my memory.” You confess.

“I might be able to help with that,” he chuckles, the hand on your face sliding down your neck, his thumbs pressing lightly at the side of your throat.

“You’re staying with me tonight?” You’re genuinely surprised. “You were so upset. I thought you would want to go with Dean, run under the moon.”

“No, not tonight,” his thumbs stroke the soft skin under your ear. “Tonight I want you.”

“Well,” you smile, standing on your toes to get closer, whispering, “you better have me then.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. It always starts as a simple kiss, blossoming into something deeper as his arms wrap around to pull you close. After several minutes he pulls away, breathless, eyes shining as he looks over your face.

“Turn around,” he commands and you spin, allowing him to take your dress off, then pulling the shift over your head leaving you stark naked. He presses against your back and your eyes flutter shut as he leans down to kiss your shoulder.

One of his hands cups your breast, squeezing gently as his other hand sweeps over your belly, finding its way between your legs. Two fingers curl into your wet flesh, dipping inside then up to find your clit with a soft touch. You moan, arching back against him as his touch grows more insistent.

“Will you let me knot you?” he murmurs, nipping right below your ear.

He’s only done it a few times over the last month. While you’ve certainly been intimate on a nightly basis, he understands that you’re not capable of taking his knot too frequently. So he waits, giving your body time to heal. And he always asks permission.

“Yes,” you gasp, nodding as his fingers slip downward, scooping into your cunt as the heel of his hand presses over your bud.

“You’re already wet for me,” he observes, fingers pushing deeper, opening inside you. Whimpering you rock forward, head lolling back against his chest.

“You have quite an effect on me,” you whisper.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs placing a kiss at your temple before playfully swatting your backside.

You crawl to the bed, sitting in the middle on the blanket to watch him undress, then happily lying back, welcoming him between your legs. He prefers to start like this, his weight pinning you in place while he fucks you slow and even. Tonight is no exception as he fists his cock, lining himself up and thrusting in to the root.

“God,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulder as he moves inside you.

His hands are everywhere, holding your leg over his hips, grabbing your breast, stroking your hair. And his kisses are just as all-consuming, his thick tongue sliding deep to silence your moans.

The thrusting of his hips grows faster and then he stops, placing a kiss between your breasts before pulling out.

“Roll over,” he instructs, one hand stroking his wet cock.

You’ve come to know this position well. Once on your hands and knees, you feel him nudge between your calves, then a hand between your thighs smacking them wider. With one hand at your lower back, he presses inside, stroking deeper than before. This part is almost more challenging than what comes next. In this position, he can bury himself right up to your womb.

One of his hands curls under your belly in search of your bud, which means he’s getting close. Right on cue, you feel the thick ring of muscle around the base of his cock swell, fighting to get inside you again and again. His finger moves harder, grunting with each stroke of his hips.

Two fingers gently press together over your clit and you cum, writhing on his cock as he holds himself inside. His knot pops and he yelps in pleasure, rutting into your backside again and again.

You cry out, open hands curling into the bed, holding on for dear life. You breathe through the pain, deep lung fulls to stay calm. It’s not nearly as bad as the first time, you don’t cry anymore. Now that you know what to expect you just close your eyes and try to think about how this could be the time that he puts his child in your belly.

His timing has gotten better, your pleasure takes away from the shock of it all, leaving only the dull, uncomfortable ache of him inside you.

“My God,” he groans. His heavy, sweating body curls over your back, knot tugging inside you.

“Careful,” you hiss, reaching behind you to grab his hip.

“I’m sorry,” he’s still panting, wrapping both arms around your stomach as he moves the pair of you onto your side. “Did it hurt?”

“It gets easier each time,” you explain, wiggling back into him. “I don’t mind this part.”

“No?” He nips at your earlobe, grabbing your breast again. “There is nothing better than feeling you around my knot.”

“I wish I could do this for you every time.”

“That is something we need to talk about.” He nuzzles behind your ear. “Perhaps now is not the best time but you should know my rut is coming.”

“Oh,” you turn your head trying to see him. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, as you wiggle with his knot still firmly lodged inside your cunt. “What does that mean? When?”

“Soon. A week or two,” he explains, rubbing his nose into the hair at the back of your head.

“And you’ll stay with me this time?” You ask hesitantly.

“That is something we need to decide together.”

“What alternative is there?” You're growing increasingly uncomfortable, feeling the ache bloom between your legs. He’s silent but you already know the answer. The alternative is Ruby. “I want you to stay with me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers as his hand strokes up the outside of your thigh.

“You won’t. You never hurt me.”

“That’s not true. You’re in pain right now, you’re just not vocalizing it.” he retorts, shifting behind you.

“How do you know that?”

“I can hear your heart speed up. I can smell it on you, like fear,” he explains. His knot is lessening, and he gently tugs it from your body, rolling you onto your back so he can look you in the eye. “You can barely walk after we’re together once. I’ll need this again and again.”

“Then you can have me again and again,” you insist, searching his expression for understanding. “I couldn’t bear it if you were with her. Not after all this.”

“I know,” his mouth twists in displeasure, dipping down for a kiss. “Don’t be upset. We’ll find a way.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”  

[jenomark]

NCT reaction to you taking the initiative and hold their hand or kiss their cheeks/lips for the first time uwu im soft

Taeil: He was right next to you, and he was trying to make you laugh. You smiled at him and he smiled back, his whole face glowing. Without hesitation, you kissed Taeil’s cheek, the smoothness of his skin on your lips making you feel all tingly inside. You stuck your hands underneath your thigh and waited for his response. Taeil touched his cheek and asked, “What was that for?”. You shrugged and smiled coyly at him, wishing in your heart that he would kiss you back. Taeil laughed, and you could see how the nerves were affecting him, how they made him freeze beside you. “There is always something I wanted to tell you,” he said. When he looked at you next, you weren’t expecting his smile to fade a little. Taeil continued, “I’m not ready for a relationship right now. I’m so busy, and I wouldn’t want you to wait for me. But if you do want to wait for me, someday, I’ll be waiting in this spot ready to kiss you back.”

Johnny: “Am I pretty?” Johnny asked. He bent his legs so you could finish applying the powder to his face. He pursed his lips to tease you, knowing that you would blush. Although you hadn’t been NCT’s make-up artist for a long time, you took your job very seriously. Johnny made it hard. The first time you met him, he exuded so much charisma that you found yourself feeling in awe of him. Those feelings gradually expanded to a little crush that grew every day. You knew Johnny felt the same, but you were both so professional, that neither of you were brave enough to cross that line. “The prettiest.” you said. You got out the tinted lip balm and dipped your lip brush into it. Johnny watched your hands work, his eyes following the brush as it made it to his lips. “You’re mistaken,” he said. “The prettiest is you.” You felt hot under the collar, but kept brushing the tinted balm over his lips. You looked around the room and saw that everyone had left. You lowered the brush, leaned in, and kissed him on the lips. Johnny kissed you back, any fear at the both of you breaking the boundary gone from his mind. When you parted, you sucked in air. “Wow.” you said, pushing it all out. Johnny smiled and said, “You’ll have to paint my lips again, and then you’ll have to go on a date with me.”

Taeyong: You touched his arm first. You weren’t thinking anything when you did. He was upset, and you wanted to comfort him. And even though you knew he wasn’t the best at receiving care, Taeyong didn’t flinch when your cool hand touched his skin. “I don’t know what to do,” Taeyong said. “Should I join this new project? Should I take care of myself and rest? What do I do?” You rubbed his arm all the way down to his hand and gave it a squeeze. Taeyong removed his hat, brushed his hair back and placed the hat back onto his head. You could see all the ways the decision was weighing on him, his already big eyes growing bigger with worry. He leaned down over the studio equipment and looked around at the place he called his home for the past few years. “No one else can tell you what to do.” you said, hoping it would help. “Working is all I know,” he said. “Who am I if I’m not Lee Taeyong?” You felt your hand go to his back, and you rubbed him a little to keep him warm. You said, “You’re still Lee Taeyong, the same brilliant person I see every day.” He blinked slowly and looked into your eyes. Taeyong was grateful for your words, for your kindness. You pulled him in for an intimate hug, which he wasn’t expecting. When you tried letting go, he held you tighter. “Do you mind staying here for a little while longer?” he asked.

Yuta: You didn’t like playing sports, but Yuta was good at coaching you. The support he gave you carried you through the entire game, his words in your mind whenever you got on the field. When you scored, he high-fived you, and when you missed a goal, he told you that you’d get it next time. Being on the same team helped your thirst for winning, especially since Yuta was very good at soccer. You stood on the field and waited for the whistle to blow. You and Yuta’s team only needed one more point to win, and although the game wasn’t that serious, you really wanted that goal. The whistle blew and the game started. You ran on the field, trying your best to kick the ball when it was kicked in your direction. Towards the end, Yuta got control of the ball and kicked it into the net, scoring the winning point for the team. The winners jumped up and down and screamed, celebrating the win right away. You ran to Yuta, and he saw you coming, a big smile on his face. When you jumped into his arms, and he spun you around, the first thing on his lips were praises for you. Deciding you wanted to be the second thing on his lips, you bent down and kissed him. The way Yuta looked at you when you parted lips made you feel so sexy. “Our team won,” you said, breathlessly. Yuta kissed you again. “I think I won, too.” 

Kun: He liked control, which was perfect, because you liked relinquishing it. You loved watching him work, gathering up supplies he thought you would need on your trip. Inviting Kun over to help you pack was your best idea yet. You got to spend alone time with him, and he got to feel like he was needed, which was his ultimate kink. “You might need band-aids,” Kun said. “Aspirin, gauze, an ice pack for freezing.” You laughed, “Am I packing with the intention of hurting myself, or am I spending a week in a tropical location?” Kun didn’t look at you, didn’t even entertain your jokes. “Hand me the gauze, please.” he said, holding out his hand. You handed him the gauze, the aspirin, and when he asked for the band-aids, you placed your hand in his and held it. Kun looked down at your hands fitting neatly together. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Stop playing games. We don’t have a lot of time to get this done.” Although he scolded you, Kun didn’t remove his hand from yours, just kept on packing one-handed. 

Doyoung: “Can I kiss you?” you asked. You weren’t serious, but when you said the words out loud, they had weight to them. You only meant to annoy Doyoung, to make him feel frustrated. “Why are you talking such nonsense to me? he asked. You were best friends, and you always joked around like that. He stood at your kitchen counter, his elbows on top, his body bent over, and he was looking in a recipe book. You stood behind him and played with his ears. When he didn’t react, you leaned your elbows next to him and read the recipe he was reading. “It looks hard.” you said. Doyoung turned the page and said, “Not for me.” You kissed his ear, which you knew he hated. He covered it and whined, moving away from you. “What has gotten into you?” he asked. You crossed your arms and told him you were bored. He moved around the kitchen, choosing to completely ignore you. “Doyoung.” you said. You said his name four more times and he didn’t answer. “Doyoung,” you said, again. “What would you do if I did kiss you?” Doyoung closed a cabinet and looked over at you. He didn’t like being played with, but by the look on your face, he should have known you weren’t playing. “Why are you doing this to me now?” he asked. You closed the gap between both of you. You didn’t know if you should kiss him or not, but it felt right to try. He didn’t move as you leaned in, just let you kiss him. “Are you happy?” he asked, when you parted. You shrugged and turned around. Doyoung spun you back around and pressed your body against the kitchen counter, his lips finding their way back to your mouth.

Ten: You thought about kissing him to shut him up, but there was also an undeniable need to avoid him. Every time Ten spoke, you could feel yourself falling more and more in love with him. He knew it well, because every move he made was to tease you into anger, to play you right into his hands. Ten didn’t believe you had it in you to make the first move, and so he danced around you, his cockiness pushing you to do something about the way you felt. He sat across the table, some playing cards in his hand. “Your turn, dear.” he said, smirking. You looked at your cards and knew they would beat his, but the thing is, you wanted him badly to win. You loved to see him gloat, to see the genuine smile on his face from winning. “ I lost,” you said. “My cards are shit.”  Ten didn’t believe you. He kept wanting to see your cards, but you placed them face down on the table. He fanned himself with his cards, holding his head up high like a winner. He said, “I win, so that means you have to do whatever I want for the next three weeks.” You muttered, “Over my dead body” and got up from your chair. Ten followed behind you, clearly not ready to stop rubbing the loss in your face. You swung around and kissed him on the lips while he was mid-word, which caught him so off-guard that he pulled away. “You just kissed me,” he said. “Yeah?” you said. “And what are you gonna do about it?” For a second, Ten looked speechless. He stepped forward and said, “I’m going to kiss you back.” before grabbing you and giving you the real prize.

Jaehyun: You didn’t hear anything he said. He was showing you around his new apartment, pointing out details he thought you would miss: the crown molding, the heated floors. You only paid attention to his excitement, how his eyes were wet with it, and how pink his cheeks flushed. It wasn’t long before you realized how in love you were with him, how every time you looked at him always felt brand new. “Oh yeah?” you asked when he was going on and on about carpet samples. “Are you paying attention?” Jaehyun asked. “Your eyes are glazing over”.  You picked up the carpet samples and asked him to close his eyes. You told him you wanted to see if he could feel the difference between them. You approached him, took his hand, and used his finger to brush against the different samples. “Can you feel it?” you asked. Jaehyun laughed. “Not really,” You held his fingers up to your lips and kissed them softly. “What about now?” you asked. Jaehyun opened his eyes. When you thought he was going to drop his hand by his side, he held your cheek and kissed you for the very first time.

WinWin: You knew he liked hand tricks, but you didn’t think he knew you liked him. He put his phone down and held his hand out, making a show that you had his full attention. He was curious about what you were going to do to him, and maybe a little amused. “Have you been practicing?” he asked. You sat next to him, took his hand and flattened his palm out on the table.  “I have.” you said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. You thought long and hard about what you would say to WinWin when you confessed to him. There were so many approaches you could take, and somehow, raw honesty didn’t feel like one of them. Instead, you took his hand and traced your finger on the lines of his palm. He watched you, only pausing you to itch his hand where you touched him. “What’s this?” he asked, laughing. “What are you doing?” You showed his life line and told him he would live a long life. When he understood what you were doing, he leaned back in his chair and decided to keep watching you. “And my love line?” he asked. You pointed to it. It was long, and if he looked straight into it, he would have seen you staring back at him. “It’s a good love line,” you said. “Someone loves you.” WinWin closed the palm of his hand. When he opened it again, you held it, interlocking your fingers with his. “Really? he asked. “I don’t know how this works. Can you tell the person who loves me that I love her back?”

Jungwoo: It was your first date, and he was so nervous. He did all the right things like a gentleman did: pulled out your chair, opened doors, told you how pretty you looked in your dress. You liked sitting across from him and getting to know him, his little intricacies making you laugh . You were learning so much just by watching him eat, watching how well he treated the fans who came up to the table to greet him. He was an interesting man, the softest bits of him making you swoon. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me.” you told him as the date was ending. Jungwoo smiled, his expression looking at little bit painful at being called out. You tried to give him as much warmth and reassurance as you could in the way you looked at him. Being supportive of him was so easy, and you realized quite soon into the date that you wanted a second date. “Did you have a good time with me?” he asked. You stood up and told him you had the best time. Jungwoo held his hand out, so that if your dress got caught in the chair, he would be there to catch you if you fell. He walked you out to your car, placing his jacket around your shoulders. “I had a nice time,” Jungwoo said. “I like talking to you.” You moved a little closer to him and looked up at him. “I like talking to you, too.” When you kissed him, he kept his whole body still. You put your hand on his waist to calm him, and kissed him deeper, your lips opening his up. “Wow,” he said, opening his eyes. “Can we do that one more time?”

Lucas: You were paired with him for a dance lesson. Lucas wasn’t confident at all, but you were determined to get the dance right. You held his hands and let him lead you, his big body trying to drags yours along like it weighed nothing. He skipped a few steps and struggled, his brows sweating. “Take it slow,” you said. “You’re going too fast.” Lucas’ ears turned red from you scolding him, which made you feel bad. You let go of his hands and tried to teach him in an easier way than the teacher taught the class. “Hold me like this,” you said, “Really delicately, like a doll.” His big hands found the small of your back, and you felt a chill run up your spine. “Is this okay?” he asked. You cleared your throat and tried to contain yourself. Though it was better, he was still a little clumsy. You decided to lead the dance, treating him as the woman in the routine. When it was time to dip, you bent Lucas over backwards, but you both ended up toppling to the floor, with you on top of him. “Ow.” Lucas said. Your face was so close to his, your lips just inches from his. “We should..try again.” you said. Afterwards, you approached Lucas and apologize for yelling at him. “It’s okay, partner,” he said. “I’ll practice hard and show you a better side of myself.” You smiled and threw your bag over your shoulder. Before saying goodbye, you hugged him around his middle tightly, resting your head against his hard chest. Lucas didn’t say anything, just patted your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” you said before running off.

Mark: You were too embarrassed to say it out loud. You looked at Mark, and what you saw was a boy you liked so much that there would never be the right words to describe the way you felt. The only way you knew how to get your feelings out was to write them. As you sat down at NCT 127′s dorm’s dining room table, Mark was already nervous. The fact that you both liked each other wasn’t a secret to anyone, and definitely not to either of you. Both of you had tip-toed around each other for too long, and it was time to move a step forward. You looked down at your dry erase board, picked up the marker, and wrote: “I LIKE YOU.” in big letters. When you showed it to him, Mark held his fist up to his mouth and smiled. He looked down at his own board and wrote:  “I ALSO LIKE YOU.” He took the board back to the table, scribbled something else and showed it: “A LOT HA AHAHA” You erased your board with your hand, the little rolls of marker sticking to your wrist. You paused and thought about your next words carefully. When you showed them to Mark this time, he nodded his head aggressively. On the board was written. “MARK LEE, WOULD IT BE OKAY IF I KISSED YOU?” You set the board down at the same time Mark got up from the table. When you reached him, the first kiss was everything you imagined it would be.

Xiaojun: You were camping with friends, but you hated every minute of it. The only thing that made you feel better was that Xiaojun hated it, too. You stayed together a lot during the day, throwing each other glances whenever Lucas tried scaring another person by acting like a bear. “My tent is all the way across the forest.” Xiaojun said. His exaggeration made you laugh. You found yourself not wanting to leave him, and you knew he felt the same about you. You both hovered by the dying fire, trying to prolong the conversation. “We should probably sleep.” you said. Xiaojun sighed, looking over at the tent he had all to himself. You sat down on a log, resigned to spending the rest of the night with Xiaojun. He sat beside you, stretching his legs out before him. “We’re such babies, “ he said. “I’m surprised we haven’t-” As he was talking, Lucas came up behind you both to scare you. Xiaojun screamed, and you wrapped your arms around him to protect him, your heads bumping together. Lucas cackled, walking back to his tent. You didn’t let Xiaojun go, and he didn’t mind you clinging onto him. “Do you want to sleep in the same tent tonight?” you asked quietly. “Absolutely.” Xiaojun replied, burying his face in your neck.

Hendery: “Does that feel good?” you asked. You sat behind Hendery on the couch and massaged his shoulders, and his back. He hung his head, the sound coming out of his mouth the answer you wanted. You kept massaging him, careful not to hurt his aching muscles. “You’re too nice to me.” Hendery said. You agreed but added, “You would do the same for me.” Hendery rolled his head on his neck and straightened himself out so that he was looking forward. Your hands worked their way down his muscular shoulders. “Ahh, that feels good,” he said. “But you don’t have to keep going. I know you’re tired, too.” Your hands were cramping, so as soon as you got to his forearms, you stopped and rested your chin on his shoulder. Hendery gently placed his head against yours, and you both sat there for a few minutes trying not to fall asleep. “What would I do without you?” he asked. You reached down and held both of his hands. You brought them up so that your arms and his arms were hugging him. When you pulled his body back against yours, Hendery relaxed into you, his cheek touching the side of your cheek. Feeling comfortable, you kissed his cheek for the first time. “Is it weird that I liked that?” he asked. You did it again and he giggled.

Renjun: He was running late, which was very unlike him. Renjun was never late, and he definitely would never be late for your study dates. You waited underneath your umbrella, sticking the toe of your boot in a puddle. You heard his feet pounding the pavement before you heard his voice. There was always an apology on the edge of his lips, as if he spent his life apologizing for everything he did. You turned around and saw him running towards you. He was soaked from the rain, the bag on his back bouncing up and down his little frame comically. “I didn’t realize the time,” he said. “Were you waiting long?” You told him you weren’t. At the same time, you moved your umbrella out of the way and hugged Renjun. Realizing what you were doing, you pulled away quickly. “You just hugged me.” he said, his mouth hanging open. You started walking, bound for the coffee shop. “No, I didn’t,” you said, wincing from the blatant lie. Renjun huffed, “You just did. You just hugged me. You never hug me.” You swung around, nearly decapitating his head with the end of your umbrella. “It was a mistake,” you said. “Stop talking about it.” Renjun held up his hands in peace and trailed behind you. Feeling bad, you offered him space underneath your umbrella. He huddled in so close to you, his shoulder touching yours. “For the record, I liked the hug.” he said, bumping your shoulder with his.

Jeno: “You know, you don’t have to walk me home every time. It’s okay if you want to stay with your friends. I’m a big girl, Jeno.” you said. It was night time, and Jeno would never dare let you walk home alone. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and his smile was nearly up to his ears. You walked close to him, both of you listening to the sounds of city life. “You know I can’t do that.” he said, after awhile. He cared for you a lot, which was fine because you cared about him in the same way. You spun around a pole like a little kid and let the sounds of his laughter embrace you. “What are you doing?” he asked. You stuck out your tongue and said, “If you’re going to treat me like a child, I’ll act one.” In response, Jeno grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. “Come along, child.” he said. You walked in silence. Being with Jeno always felt effortless. You could both be silent for hours and still be entertained, which led to a lot of weird looks from your mutual friends. Most of them called you both boring, but you knew the real truth. “We’re here.” you said, bounding up your front steps. Jeno stayed at the bottom and watched you go up. When you made it halfway, you turned around and started going back down. You stopped a step before the bottom so that you were just a little taller than Jeno, and you leaned down to kiss him. He didn’t seem surprised by the kiss, and he didn’t  pull away. Jeno kissed you like it was the most natural thing in the world, his lips just as safe as you imagined.

Haechan: The Dreamies and a few friends all sat around. Everyone knew Haechan liked you, and when they pressured him to kiss you, he curled up into a ball and said he couldn’t do it. You watched as Chenle rubbed his shoulders to get him to loosen up, as Renjun offered to buy him food if he succeeded. “At least admit that you like her. “Jaemin said. “No,” Haechan said. “I won’t.” You pulled Chenle away from Haechan and made him sit down. You were sitting next to Haechan, but he was avoiding you at all costs. “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to,” you said. “Leave him alone.” At the end of the party, everyone was saying goodbye, and you and Haechan were the last ones in the room. “Did they embarrass you?” Haechan asked. You shook your head no and laughed. “I’ve been through worse things. I know you like me, and I just wanted to let you know that I like you, too.” Haechan looked down at his shoes, a bashful look returning to his face. “Kiss me.” he said. “What?” you asked, wondering if you heard him right. “I’m spineless. Kiss me first.” he said. You crossed the room in three strides and kissed him on the mouth, grabbing the back of his head as you did. When you let him go, his lips were still pursed like he was waiting for another kiss. You covered his face with your hand and said,“Maybe when you get a little braver, Haechannie.” 

Jaemin: “Do you want to kiss me or not?” you asked. Jaemin was taking a sip of his Americano when he spit some of it back into the cup. Your words shocked him, but not more than they shocked you. You touched your hand to your mouth and looked all around the cafe to see if anyone had heard you. You knew Jaemin valued honesty, but you weren’t ready to be so upfront with him. When you looked back at him, you felt like he was staring into your soul. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” you said. “This is our fourth date.” Jaemin set his cup on the table and smiled. You were waiting for him to tell you he didn’t like you being the one to initiate the first kiss, that it was his job to do so, but he was ready to shock you right back. “Why don’t you kiss me first?” Jaemin asked. “We’re a changed society.” He raised his eyebrows as if daring you to have a rebuttal, but all you could muster was a sad, “Right now?” You liked the sound of his laughter and realized you hadn’t heard it much since you started dating. You kept staring at his mouth, at his perfect teeth, his beautiful smile. “When I want to kiss you, it won’t be in front of all these people, “ Jaemin said. “I’m going to kiss you and you’re not going to want anyone around for the things we’ll do after.”

YangYang: You liked waiting at the bus stop with YangYang. There was a bench, a tree that gave lots of shade, and a moment in the day when you felt safe. You sat beside him and talked about your life for the better part of seven months. His face was focused as he listened, his own stories making that same face become animated in his next breath. You felt he knew you like no one else did. There wasn’t much about him you didn’t like, even if he did sometimes play little pranks on you. “Do you know why I do that?” he asked. “I like seeing you smile.” There was nothing romantic in the way he said the words, but were said as a matter of fact. Still, you felt your heart beating fast in your chest. “You like seeing me smile?” you asked, smiling brightly. YangYang narrowed his eyes and said, “Don’t get too attached.” He got up and looked to see if the bus was coming. As he sat back down on the bench, you moved closer to him. “What are you doing?” he asked, singing his words. “Just shut up.” you said. YangYang laughed and looked down at his hand gripping the edge of the wooden bench. Your hand was so close to his that your pinky was touching his pinky. YangYang didn’t say anything when you linked your finger around his, but when he got up to look for the bus again, he took you with him, swinging both of your arms as you went.

[queen-of-bel]

some semi-structured ramblings about kaz and paz, and why their dynamic is probably my favorite relationship of any media i’ve ever consumed

I really really love the dynamic that Paz and Kaz have with each other for so many reasons.

First off, it highlights two very important personality traits about Kaz during the Peace Walker era. It shows off how warm and friendly Kaz can be, but it also demonstrates how overconfident and reckless he is.

He takes what he considers to be “calculated risks”, vastly overestimating his own abilities to offset any negative consequences. He invited a Cipher agent to their own home turf, all for the sake of expanding MSF. It was risky as hell, and Kaz knew that, which is why he kept it a secret from Snake. In his mind, he had a plan to negate the risk of any damage that Cipher could do to them-- befriend Paz and have her switch allegiances.

Kaz knew exactly who she was– a spy only a few years younger than himself. He also knew what her objective was from the beginning. This is something that he admits to Snake at the end of Peace Walker. And yet, he still struck up a deal with Cipher and invited her and Zadornov to Colombia anyway.

It really is heartwarming to see how much effort Kaz put into reaching out to Paz.

After Zadornov was first captured, “Paz” had nowhere else to go, as Zadornov was paying for her room and board. I put “Paz” in quotes, because that was the situation that the character of “Paz Ortega Andrade” was in, not Pacifica Ocean.

Kaz knew this, and the risk of having Paz on mother base, but he was the one who really pushed for Paz to live there regardless. To quote Paz:

“I told the man that with no more money from the KGB, I could no longer afford school. …He bought my story, and when I said I would be willing to work, he took pity on me and let me stay. For some reason Miller really plead my case. That was helpful, but the man is still a fool…”

Now, you can chalk this up to him just going along with the business deal that he struck with Cipher, but his actions moving forward indicate otherwise.

It’s undeniable that Kaz really went out of his way to give Paz a comfortable and peaceful life while at MSF. Her diary tapes highlight all of the sweet interactions that they had:

“What I have got is just a common cold. The medical team said I’d need a few days’ rest, so I’ve been restricted to my room and put on bed rest…  Miller told me to take it easy. “I will sing you a lullaby,” he said, then broke out a guitar and sang some incomprehensible song in Japanese. I did not need to understand the lyrics to know he’s an awful singer. Then he said, ‘You know what is good for a cold? Suppositories! Here, I’ll show you…’ He began to take off his pants, so I threw my tissue box at him to make him go away.”

“Every month, Mother Base throws a party for all the soldiers whose birthdays fall in that month… Miller seemed a little protective of me. ‘Hope they’re not being too crude,’ he said. ”

“‘C'mon, we even both have ‘peace’ in our names,’ said Miller. ‘And Zadornov - that old Russkie’s name has something to do with peace, too, right? Hey, as long as we’re having a day of peace, we ought to get an act together - The Three Peace Band!’ I thought he was joking. He then proceeded to share his idea without bothering to check with me, and now I am slated to sing. Apparently, he had heard me on deck one day and since then he’s wanted to form a band”

“With the lyrics finished, I was ready to show Miller. He does not often take things seriously, but all of a sudden he was saying ‘Paz, you have the soul of an enka songwriter.’”

(That last quote is technically from Phantom Paz, but nothing in PW states that Kaz himself was the one who wrote the lyrics for Love Deterrence, only the melody, so I’m going to go ahead and include this MSGV tape)

Of course, you could always make the argument that Kaz was just playing a role, that he was just going along with Cipher's lie and giving Paz special treatment because she's "just a teen", but let's compare his interactions with Paz versus his interactions with Chico, another youth at MSF.

Kaz's interactions with Chico were minimal at best. Not to say that he didn't like Chico, because he absolutely did. But there were never any special interactions between the two of them in the same way that he interacted with Paz.

In fact, Kaz never put that much effort into bonding with anyone else at mother base. Not Amanda, not Strangelove, not Huey, or even Cecile (or any other women at MSF that he would try to seduce). It’s clear that Kaz treated Paz differently than everyone else at MSF. Kaz is a very suave and charismatic person, and he’s used to charming his way into getting what he wants in life, with pretty minimal effort. Paz alludes to this in one of her diary tapes, scoffing at the fact that female MSF soldiers fall for his flirting "so easily".

Now, Kaz never tried to approach Paz romantically, but the success of his whole "let's get this Cipher agent to switch allegiances to MSF" plan rested on his overwhelming charm. Relying on his charisma has not failed him yet, and he had no reason to think that this situation with Paz would be any different. He thought that by reaching out to Paz, she would become loyal to MSF, effectively eliminating any threat that Cipher posed to MSF.

This is where his overconfidence comes in. He vastly underestimated Zero’s power, and how much of a grip Zero had on Paz. Paz absolutely despised Zero, but ultimately, she was terrified of betraying Cipher, calling the repercussions of that action “a fate far worse than death”.

Although, it's not as if Kaz’s efforts were completely wasted. Paz’s commitment to Cipher was wavering as time went on, and as she spent more time with MSF and everyone on mother base. However, it's important to note that Paz wasn't just grateful to the MSF staff as a whole. She was, but she particularly wanted to be close to Kaz.

In her diary tape when she was describing Kaz’s womanizing and his and Snake’s infamous sauna fight, she says something at the end that was really sad to me.

“But somehow I got the sense that for all his womanizing, Miller really only trusted one person, and that was Snake. There was no way I could ever come between the two of them. And at that thought I began to feel as if I had lost.”

We know that Paz had romantic feelings for Snake. She's suspiciously adamant in her third diary entry about her lack of interest in Snake, but her diary entries in the Phantom Pain were more honest about her feelings:

"[Snake] saved me, and I feel indebted to him, but I thought that was all he meant to me. Why does my heart flutter when I think of him?"

So going back to her diary entry in Peace Walker. When she says that she feels "lost", we know that this wasn’t her lamenting about Kaz’s womanizing habits, or what she calls his infatuation with Snake. What upsets her is her observation that Kaz only trusts Snake. She has this hopeless feeling that Kaz would never trust her in the same way.

Paz clearly wanted to be friends with Kaz. Not just friendly surface interactions, but she wanted to get to know Kaz more and bond with him on a deeper level. Unfortunately, it is this exact hopelessness that prevented Paz from expressing these feelings to him.

Of course, Kaz was blind to this inner conflict of hers. When you combine this with not only his underestimation of Zero's power, but his own overconfidence in his charisma, it's a bit of a recipe for disaster.

We see this testament to Kaz’s overconfidence after the ZEKE battle. He's actually shocked that Paz went through with Cipher's plan anyway. He really thought that his efforts to reach out to her worked, as he tells Snake:

“How could Paz… We were going to start a band together…”

At this point, Kaz has already come clean to Snake about knowing Paz's real identity. He no longer has to put up a front of "this is just a teenager". What this says to me is that these are Kaz's genuine feelings. He really was looking forward to starting a band with her, and performing with her on Peace Day.

I really like this moment because it shows that Kaz didn't just think of Paz as a way to expand MSF. He didn't spend all this time with Paz simply because it would benefit him. He felt a genuine desire to befriend and be close with her.

He’s clearly crushed that his efforts to befriend her failed. After the ZEKE battle, he admits that there was only one thing on his mind:

“After Paz tried to steal ZEKE from us, and we watched her get pulled beneath the waves… There was one thing I kept asking myself. Which was the real Paz? And which was the lie?”

What's interesting to me is that he’s not concerned about any damage to MSF that Paz may have caused, despite the fact that she hijacked ZEKE. He’s not even angry that she betrayed MSF, attempting to launch a nuclear strike on the east coast of the USA under MSF's name. He’s just dumbfounded and shell-shocked. Now, this is just my personal speculation, but I think his self-confidence really took a blow in this moment. He's always prided himself on his charisma and business acumen. For Kaz, to think that he so horribly and completely misjudged Paz’s character was a harsh wake-up call for him.

As time goes on, he does become angry, though. It’s mostly (misplaced) anger at Paz, but underneath it all, I think he’s mostly angry with himself.

In GZ, he asks Snake to bring Paz back alive, saying to kill her only if “worse comes to worst”. He uses the excuse that he wants her alive only because he wants to interrogate her and that she knows too much, but there are a couple lines of his during that mission that betrays his feelings:

“Paz is our only link to Cipher. If she’s still alive… …We need her on our side. If not us, who else is gonna rescue that bitch?”

I like that last line a lot because it really shows how conflicted Kaz feels about her. Yes, Kaz wants information on Cipher. Yes, Kaz is angry at Paz. But Kaz also wants Paz to be saved, by somebody, anybody. He just feels that MSF is the only group qualified to do so.

Now, I definitely don’t think that Paz’s well-being was the only motivation for Kaz’s asking Snake to bring her back alive. It’s just that underneath all the anger, Kaz is still clearly emotionally attached to her. In fact, Kaz even says:

“When we get our hands on Paz, intel on Cipher isn’t the only thing I want out of her. Putting aside her mission, her past, that sense of loyalty they drilled into her… I want to know… what she really thought of us.”

Ever since the ZEKE battle, Kaz has clearly been tormented with this question. At this point in time, Kaz is fully aware of what Zero and Cipher are capable of, and why Paz was sent to him. However, he recognizes Paz as more than just a Cipher agent. He wants to look past all of that– the “Paz Ortega Andrade” that Cipher had built up. He has to know what “Pacifica Ocean” truly thought of him and MSF. Whether or not his efforts to reach out to her were successful or not.

What makes this even sadder is that after the attack on mother base, Kaz incorrectly thinks that it was Paz who sold out MSF. He feels utterly betrayed, and his temper reaches a breaking point, lashing out at Paz, calling her a “spying bitch” and even attempting to attack her (which I firmly believe he would have if the medic hadn’t been holding him back).

Thinking about this from Paz’s perspective is also horribly depressing. She suffered so much torture at the hands of Skull Face, but she remained loyal to MSF, asking Skull Face to kill Zero if it meant it would save Snake. When Skull Face told her that he was planning to kill Snake as well, she pleaded with him to change his mind. Obviously, Kaz's plan worked. She did switch allegiances, betraying Zero in order to save Snake and MSF.

And yet, this is something that Kaz didn’t know. He thought that her loyalty ultimately laid with Cipher, which is why he was so furious after the attack on MSF. Paz likely didn’t even know that MSF was attacked, as she came to after Morpho had flown everyone away from base. The last experience of her life was nothing but pure rage and hatred from the person that she wanted to be closest to on mother base.

I don’t know, I just really love these two characters and their relationship a lot. Thinking about the friendship that they could have had, and the misunderstandings and tragedies that prevented either of them from knowing the truth was just heart-wrenching to watch throughout PW to GZ.

[exosmutfactory]

Dark Horse-Chapter One

All I know is that one day my boyfriend and lifelong best friend disappeared. No word of him from anyone. No trace of him anywhere. And after 6 agonizing months, they concluded that he is dead. So why the fuxk do I seeing him strolling around town at 3am?

[ warning: blood ]

Prologue | Part 1 ✓ | Part 2 |

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

First Encounters

Somewhere in a deep dark place, a siren blares. The noise ringing the same tune over and over again as wispy whispers from all around fill the air. If one happened to look close enough, they’d see figures shifting in the darkness. Rising to their full heights as the siren coaxes them forward like a flute to a python.

Suddenly, the music stops. Dark red neon lights brightening up the area as the six figures freeze...before their eyes snap open. The colors in all of their eyes vary from electric blue to copper brown. But one—only one—has yet to open their eyes.

While the others survey their surroundings, the last one’s eyes pop open. Emerald green eyes blinking as they step forward before turning a blood-red color; their iris shrinking down to a pupil as black fills in the rest.

“Plëasë støp ït nøw.”

////

“Hello Cherry.”

I can’t help being aware of the aged, ticking grandfather clock across the room. Something about it has always been eerie. The way the dial constantly swings from side to side; skipping by half seconds when it thinks you won’t notice. I always do. It is just the same as Dr. Kim’s watch. Always 6 minutes ahead of schedule. Forever going at the pace of its own time. You can tell a lot about a man by how he manages his time. And as that clock isn’t an ordinary object, Dr. Kim is not a simple man.

Fidgeting in my seat, I play with a spare ponytail holder; curling the band between my fingers, “Hello Doctor.”

He smiles and leans back; vibrant red hair fluttering from the motion as he crosses his legs. A notepad clutched in his left hand as he clicks a pen open with the other, “How are you feeling today?”

Wordlessly parting my lips, I hesitate for a second; something he picks up on, “I...had a nightmare.” I share.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise; pen pressed to the paper, “Tell me about it.”

“I was walking. And it was dark,” My eyes drift to the ceiling as his pen moves, “I have gotten off of work late and had to walk home with my groceries… The moon was full and bright, but then I heard an awful noise-”

Strangely, Dr. Kim interrupts, “What kind of noise?”

Dragging my eyes back to him, I take in his leaning forward, subtly rigid form; the pen not even pressed to his paper. “A thud,” I open my palms, keeping them where he can see as I look him directly in the eye, “From an alley.” Letting a few moments go by, I utter, “Then a black cat carrying a dead mouse crossed my path.” I tilt my head, smiling a little, “You know how superstitious I can be.”

The Doctor relaxes, “Yes.” He clears his throat, pen scribbling at a brisk pace, “We all can.” I can’t help eyeing his eyebrows as he leans forward to grab something; there’s a smudge of blue outlining it. In the form of a high arch—a devil’s brow, as I like to describe it. Strange for an old-fashioned man who once didn’t even know what eyeliner was...

“Anything else you want to share?” He adds softly; expression tentative and caring-his eyes telling a different story.

I smile, looking him dead in the eye as if nothing is wrong, “No sir. Sorry for taking your time today.”

“It’s no problem,” He says with a wave of his hand as I stand up. “You are a beloved visitor here-Oh.” He pauses; checking his clipboard before meeting my eyes again, “Don’t forget to pick up your prescriptions downstairs.”

The smile on my lips grows as I shove down my emotions, “Thank you.”

I release a huge breath once I’ve exited the building; taking a wary glance back. There’s just something about the place and my doctor that has always left a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe it’s my past. Or how Kim Junmyeon’s smiles used to be genuine, and his eyes pure. But now they’re just filled with-

With a shiver, I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away my nightmare.

Tightening my grip on the hefty plastic bag in my hand, I begin the long journey to the only grocery store in town. Might as well grab what I can while I still have time.

The traffic inside is horrific as always. People near shoving each other to get at the 50% off items as I carefully balance the carton of eggs in my basket.

“Watch it.” An older woman hisses, graying curls bouncing in distaste as she slams into my side with a grocery cart.

I quietly step close to the end of a shelf while tentatively rubbing my throbbing side; taking deep breaths until the pain goes away.

“Should I get the manager?”

I flinch back, spinning around with wide eyes, “Oh.” My shoulders relax, “Sehun, it’s you.”

The tall raven nods; eyes filled with concern, “Are you okay?”

A smile naturally forms on my face, “I’m fine.” I soothe patting his arm, “Although, mind helping me reach that can on the top shelf?”

Sehun sends me a playful look with a boyish grin but says nothing, grabbing the can with ease before handing it to me. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I smile even more at him; waving as he turns the corner and chuckles when he accidentally bumps into a shelf full of napkins. What a sweet kid.

Grabbing everything else I need that is delicate, I carefully make my way to the checkout. Just my luck that I accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorr-” I gasp turning to them; stiffening when my eyes meet empty green ones. It’s him. My eyes quickly drop down to his neck; curiosity flaring up at the two lone white braids laying across his collarbones until I feel the burn of his steady glare. I let a meek, “I-I’m sorry I’ll just get going-” My breath catches when I spot his hand moving out the corner of my peripheral vision.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly holds up a packet of raw pork. I look at the item then back at him with a raised brow; shrinking under his cold stare. Sensing what I think he is trying to convey, I carefully reach out for it. My cold hand accidentally brushes against his piping hot one.

“Fuck.” I hiss clutching my throbbing hand to my chest. The packet drops to the floor with a dull thud compared to the one caused by Baëkhyun’s sudden movements. I literally stop breathing when he slams his hand to the shelf right next to my head; leaning back as he inches closer. His expression is full of menace and annoyance.

My gaze shifts down to his chest as he crowds my space; body tensing up as memories of the other day come back to the surface. I squeeze my eyes shut, tightening my grip on my basket. An intense wave of nausea washes over me as his breath fans over my face; the hairs on the back of my neck standing. My whole body shaking when his lips brush against my ear...

He chuckles.

He fucking chuckles and the minty breath it leaves in its wake confuses me to the core.

After a few seconds of silence, I peel open my eyes; blinking at my surroundings. Looking from left to right, the man and packet of pork are nowhere to be seen. My shoulders relax with a shaky breath. God...what was that? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Spotting my basket a couple of feet away, I quickly move to pick it up; checking on all the groceries. Luckily everything seems to still be intact.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I make my way to the checkout; deep in thought as the ever-considerate Sehun scans my items with care. I send him one last smile before heading out; a bigger weight than the bags hanging from my arms hovering over my chest. The long walk home is spent weaving through packed crowds and looking over my shoulder every 5 seconds. Not a head of white hair in sight.

♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦•—•♦

“Cherry!” A warm voice greets just as I cross over the threshold; feeling comfort at the chime of a familiar bell and the fragrance of freshly baked bread in the air.

I look up into the beaming, powered-smudged face of a petite brunette stationed behind the counter, “Good afternoon Mrs. Lee.”

“It’s Mama Lee to you!” She declares as I move to the backroom to hang up my coat. “I’ve been reminding you every day you’ve worked here and you still forget.”

“I’m forever grateful for you taking me in, Miss,” I say with a bit more warmth in my voice, smiling. “Working here has been the best 4 months of my-”

“Oh no need to butter me up,” She shakes her head with a smile of her own; softly patting my arm. “Thank you for applying. You are still my longest worker up to date…” A frown that can only mean nothing but trouble forms on her face.

“Everything okay?” I asked tentatively.

Mrs. Lee sighs in resign. “Not really.” She turns her apologetic eyes onto me, “Nora called in sick and Naeun came by to inform me that she won’t be working here,” She paused, “Ever again.”

A small smile forms on my face, “I’ll manage everything, it’s no biggie.” Not like I haven’t done it before. The smile nearly fades when she shakes her head; a remorseful expression on her face, “Mr. Park wants his annually order done by tonight.”

I can feel the color draining from my face. Mr. Park is a renowned lawyer famous for his yearly gathering of business partners from all over the country. The food they require is a lot and it takes 4 sets of hands to complete the order in a week. But with me gone the past five days and the other girls unavailable…

Meeting Mrs. Lee's eye, I tie up my hair, wash my hands and grab the nearest apron; voice full of irreversible determination, “Let’s get this done.”

Just as I figured, we aren’t done until well into the night. The clock at the front of the bakery blaring a red 2:06 am.

“I’m so sorry.”

I look up at a frowning Mrs. Lee; looking so remorseful that I immediately shake my head. “It’s okay, Miss. In fact,” Grinning good-naturedly I added, “I think I’ve earned my keep for a five-day absence.”

“You don’t have to earn anything.” She sighs as I sweep leftover bread crumbs from the floor, “If you need a breather, take a breather. Heck, have a vacation. Go out and do whatever the young people are up to these days.”

I can't help the chuckle rumbling my chest. “People are up to some questionable things these days.”

“Now I don’t mean drugs and unsafe partying.” The way my cheeks warm at that last bit. “But you need to experience life too.” Her brown caring orbs turn back onto me before she steps closer; taking my hands in hers. “I don’t want you having any regrets as I do.”

A genuine smile forms on my face as I chuckle, looking down at the spotless floor. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” She walks away then pauses turning back around, “Don’t be quick to make me a grandmother though. I’m still too young.”

All I can do is squeak in indignation which makes her laugh loudly in turn. I turn away to hide my red face; focusing entirely on checking if I missed any spots around the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?�� She asks softly. “I could ask my nephew, or call you a cab.”

A small smile forms on my lips, “No thank you.” My gaze shifts back to her, “I’ll be okay Miss Lee.”

She crosses her arms, “Promise to text once you get home?” When I nod in reply, she looks at me for a minute then sighs. “Okay.”

Shooting her another reassuring smile, I move to put on my coat, but not to button it up which seems to make her frown. “I don’t want to get too hot,” I'm quick to explain. “Plus, it’s hard to move around when all bundled up.”

“If you catch even the slightest cold I’m excusing you from work with pay for a week.” She states; trying to be threatening in her own way.

I giggle a little as she shakes her head. “Yes, ma’am.” With a cheeky salute, I exit the warm bakery. The hairs on the back of my exposed neck rise, and it’s not merely from the cold. No, it’s the icy stare set on the center of my back that I ignore as I shove my hands into my pockets; venturing back to the store that is now merely a 10-minute walk.

Gathering just a small amount of items, I take off for my apartment. Humming nonchalantly as my bag rustles and footsteps echo down the deserted streets. Everyone who values their life never comes out after dark anymore. For the ones who like to party they either spend the night at a friend’s house or inform the club days in advance to accommodate them. And if you are the husband of a pregnant demanding wife you have to suck up the nagging and set out to keep the kitchen in stock come the next sunrise.

Suddenly, the wind blows. But there’s something off about it. The wind is air; it is supposed to fly past you with no way to truly feel it. Fully grasp it. Yet this wind feels like a caress of a hand over the back of my neck. Soothing. The kind of touch that makes you let your guard down.

Ha, I wasn’t born a mere 19 years ago.

Lifting my eyes to the sky, I take in the sight of the full moon with another planet lurking in its shadow. Its colors so dark that anyone would jokingly call it the “dark side of the moon.” If it is the dark side, how are you able to see it at all? Would you be able to see the strong surge of radiation coming off of it in waves? Or feel the damage of its water supply and wreckage of ecosystems? Or the fact that “the shadow” is 4 times bigger than the moon itself?

Once I hear that telling muffled scream; I run.

A whooshing noise slices through the air before my bag is 10 times lighter. I let the rest of it fall from my hand; jumping up to avoid a hit directed at the back of my knees.

He’s fast. As I land back on my feet and quickly roll forward to avoid another swing, I make sure to stay in tune with my surroundings. Damn fast.

Leaping back to my feet, I begin winding down street after street. The only things I hear are the pounding of my feet to the pavement and my desperate pants for breath. I seriously need to work out more.

I take towards an alleyway in hopes of losing him only to meet a dead end. But this just might work even better.

“Dønë bëing chasëd, lïttlë møusë?”

The rhythmic click of heeled boots is quite alluring. Or maybe it’s just him. And I hate him even more for it.

“Why døn’t wë gët this øvër wïth, hmm?” I keep my back towards him even as he brushes my hair off one shoulder; tracing his fingers over the side of my neck. “I’ll makë ït païnlëss før thë nïcë chasë yøu gavë.”

My heart involuntarily races at his deep and raspy voice. The seductive purr added to the end of every word he utters. Until I have to hold my breath from the awful stench coming from his mouth. God, it’s ten times worse than in the dream.

“Døn’t cry lïttlë lamb,” A slender finger from a hand I know so well swipes at the tear falling from my eye. It takes everything in me to reel in my emotions as he continues. “I prømïsë yøu wøn’t fëël a thïng—”

At the light brush of lips against my pulse point; I move. Snatching the weapon from his loose grip and kicking him to the adjacent wall. As the breath is forced out his lungs I’ve already got the saber pointed at his throat. My foot firmly pressed on his abdomen.

“I’m sorry,” I say mockingly; looking down at the shocked demon eyes that flick to a fuming green, “But that’s not how things will be going tonight.” I lick my lips a smirk tugging on them at the sight of his deadly glare. “And don’t try to act like you’re all that...” Lightly dragging the sword down to his adam’s apple, I add, “Judging from the pork you've been gathering and the slowing down of accidents lately, our little wolf hasn’t had a proper meal, has he?” I can’t help grinning at his expense as he growls; not even his stench of breath can ruin my fun. “So little wolfie is not at his full strength.” Tsking with a shake of my head, I meet his furious gaze, “You really shouldn’t have messed with this Red Riding hood.”

He snarls; green eyes calculating and ablaze. “What the fuck are you?”

I can’t help smiling at the sight of him trying to dodge the blade while simultaneously steaming on his spot on the ground, “Highly trained.” Looking over his leather blazer; black&white patterned turtle neck, and jewelry clad form with a silver chain on his face, I’m left in awe with my heart pounding. Damn, he’s hot for an evil creature happening to look exactly like…

“What do you want?” He grits out pulling me from my dangerous thoughts. His chin defiantly tilted up and dark eyes challenging even with his life on the line. How cute. Tempted by his little proposal I hum. “Tell me where Baekhyun is.”

He visibly stiffens; eyes shifting to the right as he scoffs. “What?”

“I know you know where he is,” I say in a sing-song voice, dragging the sword down to his collarbone as he flinches. “And you will bring me to him.”

The wind blows; ruffling his long white locks of hair dangling in his emerald eyes before they meet mine again. “I’m Baekhyun.”

I smile then proceed to scratch his skin with the sharp blade; raising a brow at the glittery red blood that flows from the small wound. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Baëkhyun, you had me convinced.” Purring I crouch down as his eyes widen the tiniest bit before narrowing my own. “But no one could ever,” Grabbing him by his shirt I press my forehead to his, “Ever. Pass off as him. So.” Tilting my head to the side a dangerous smile plays at my lips, “I suggest you start talking.”

The snow-white haired man keeps his lips sealed as I work on swirling the blade on his surprisingly delicate skin. Marveling at the unnatural blood dripping from the new wound. Baëkhyun all but growls out, “Who the fuck was he to you anyway?”

I pause for a moment; looking into his dark eyes, “Was?”

A cruel smirk forms on his lips; one that has dread filling my gut and my grip tightening on the sword in my hand.

Baëkhyun tilts his head, “You didn’t know?” He purrs with that damn smirk still on his lips. “He’s dead.”

Everything seems to zone out of focus in that moment as his words sink in. Baekhyun?... An image of fluffy black hair and sparkling puppy eyes flashes through my mind. A handsome face with the cutest box smile that could melt a million hearts. No. Taking in his snug form once again, I narrow my eyes; swooping down to point the blade right at his pulse point with a hiss. “You’re lying.”

An unexpected flicker of emotion swarms in his green orbs.“You asked for information yet do not believe me?” His soft tone and glimmering eyes do not match the neutral expression on his face. The two braids on his neck carelessly smearing the drying blood as he tilts his head to the other side, “I thought we had somëthïng spëcïal, Charïty.”

My body stiffens and I watch in horror as a crazed grin splits his face in half. Sickeningly loud cracks of his jaw breaking to accommodate his red monstrous mouth. Red pupils and black irises on full display as a trail of bulging red veins form under his right eye. I gulp holding the saber with both hands. This. This is the demon Baëkhyun from my vision. With crooked sharp teeth and long black claws.

Before I can even blink, I’m sent flying back to the wall at the next gust of wind. The breath knocked from my lungs as I gasp for air only to gag at the little I find. And rough hands slamming my back farther against the brick wall. Baëkhyun’s form is barely recognizable in the dark corner of the alley except for his glowing eyes. His panting rancid breath washing over my face at every exhale he makes.

Cringing at the sound of him grinding his teeth, (literal nails on a chalkboard,) I close my eyes; praying to a higher being to come save me. To help me out before I’m...devoured by a demon.

Just as an unnaturally hot tongue flicks against my cheek, a siren fills the air and Baëkhyun stills his breath. After a few moments I feel his hand release me and I slide helplessly to the ground. Not even lifting my head as his heeled boots walk farther away.

“Sorry little lamb.” He purrs along with the sound of metal dragging along the concrete. “We'll play more next time.” I catch the glint of white in his eye before the world swirls out of focus. “For now, I’ll be watching.” His smirk and glowing eyes are the last thing I see before everything goes black, “See you, sweetheart.”

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Prologue | Part 1 ✓ | Part 2 |

Not to be me but Baëkhyun is the hottest ever 😩🤧🔥

[theelliottsmiths]

I genuinely don’t understand where people get the whole “drama queen” from. Like, he’s a catastrophic communicator and embarrassing, but drama queen?! He’s always perfectly nice unless people ask him bullshit questions ... I just don’t understand?!

This got so long, for once I am genuinely sorry about making something so long.

I think a lot of people misinterpret his actions and things he says as him doing it for the sake of drama rather than there being actual regular issues.

To him, me, and probably also Till, the general band disagreements and the Mutter issue don't read like a lot of people read them. For a start, it wasn't/isn't all him (why do people love to ignore that Paul especially is just as much of a problem when it comes to guitarist disagreements? And the others played a part too), but also I think there are explanations that make way more sense than writing him off as just a drama queen.

Richard has a lot of trauma from being abused and emotionally neglected as a child, from the country he's from, from likely not being NT, from fleeing and essentially becoming a refugee. His thinking seems to be more black and white than is maybe useful. I'm not sure of his drug use timeline but that's also potentially a factor.

All of those things impact the way you communicate with people, how you handle criticism, how you go about relying on other people (he wasn't able to rely on people he should have as a kid and that doesn't just go away) and pretty much everything else that relates to the way the guys clash. That's not even touching on the problems the other guys have, including Paul and his trust issues.

So yeah, maybe he sees arguments as worse than they objectively are because he learned to expect that (though I'm pretty sure a lot of the 'it wasn't that bad' is damage control and time), but it's not to be dramatic or cause problems for the sake of causing problems or getting attention or anything else. It's how he genuinely reads the situation because of trauma and his sensitivity levels. Being a sensitive person and being a drama queen are not the same thing.

A lot of the Mutter situation was about Richard doing too much and the band feeling like they had to do it too to keep up: they didn't feel like the division of the band and work was working. So far I've never seen one of them say Richard directly caused the problem, just that what Richard was doing made the problems. That sounds like the same thing but it isn't, it's all about intent. Example: If someone answers a load of asks really well one day and it makes me feel bad because I have a large backlog and can take Forever to write back that's not the same as them saying anything about me/other people who haven't answered as many, you know? Yeah, eventually it became arguments that heavily involved and, depending on who you ask, targeted Richard, but he didn't cause it the way a lot of fans assume.

And then on Richards side, it wasn't that he set out to cause trouble: he was struggling with how intense his need to create and desire do do it Correctly was. A lot of that stems from his awful self esteem and feeling like if he isn't creating good things he has no worth. He's right when he calls himself a very creative person, and that's not always a useful thing. Imagine being a writer, writing maybe a book every five years, and then coauthoring with a much more prolific author like Stephen King. Stressful.

Mayhaps instead of blaming him we should say 'Oof sometimes people really need to take the time to learn to communicate effectively with each other huh?'. They all were contributing.

There's a quote, I'll see if I can dredge it up, about Paul or Schneider(?) basically having to do research to learn how to talk to Richard. I think it's a really important thing to keep in mind that other than maybe the occasional remark, which can be made towards anyone, they don't seem to see him as a drama queen. Occasionally dramatic (as everyone is, it's not the same), maybe overly sensitive for some of them, but they still love him. They're still friends.

Hes not melodramatic, expressing honestly and plainly things like not wanting to record another album because he's tired is not a bad thing. He says he hates touring, then he says he loves touring with Rammstein, and they're both true statements, he just doesn't hide his inconvenient or contradictory feelings the way a lot of people do. ~That's not drama~. Imagine me singing that with much drama and vibrato, ironically, as thats how I typed it.

The Drama Queen thing in this community seems to be half genuinely thinking that and half boiling them down like fictional characters for ease or because it's what people are used to. Richard is the dramatic one, Flake is the grumpy one, Paul is always a ray of sunshine etc. It's not true, that's not how people work in real life, but it's easy to slip into when you don't have a personal relationship with someone. No room for nuance or contradictions or change.

In summary: Richard is just a person and I'm very grateful he started Emigrate and learned to siphon off the need to create and control their creativity.

Sidenote: Schneider said in this interview that they never almost broke up and yet in the Mutter making of he completely contradicts himself.

[e-ampersand-c]

Fiesta

Author's note : I AM SO SORRY. This took longer than expected...Though it is a long chapter, so hopefully I'll be able to put up content much faster. Anyways, please enjoy :D

Ang Unang Araw

(The First Day)

"Para sa inyo po señora! Ginawa po ng mga magulang namin para sa pagpapasalamat sa inyong pamilya, na tinanggap at hindi tinalikuran ang iyong mga kapwa hanggang ngayon." Masayang sinabi ni Maya habang hinahawak ang mga kamay ng mga bunso.

Ngumiti si Maricela, alalang-alala ang totoong rason kung bakit niya kailangan manalo sa kanyang kaso, ngunit nalaglag ang puso niya sa ngiti ng tatlong bata.

English Translation:

"This is for you señora! Our parents made this to thank you and your family, who accepted us and never turned your back against your fellow people until now." Maya smiled brightly as she held the younger children's hands.

Maricela smiled, remembering the true reason why she needed to win the case, but her heart sank deeply at the innocent smiles of the 3 children.

----------------------------------------------------------

Maricela was just about to leave the house when a knock was heard. She opened the door to find the three youngest children of each of the families living on her land: Maya Dela Cruz, Theresa Santos and Ernesto Espiritu.

Maya has brought freshly picked fruit, Theresa has brought finely sown silk shawls and Ernesto brought cooked food, still warm from tender cooking to celebrate the fiesta week and to thank Maricela and her family for the kindness they have shown for the past decades. Maricela is grateful for the gifts but seeing the innocent children living a great life without knowing it might collapse should she fail, her heart sinks to depths too far down for light to reach it. She sends them off with gratitude and quickly meets up with with her friends.

Upon arriving, Maria Clara, Crisostomo and Enrique chat lightly amongst themselves. When Enrique catches a glimpse of her arriving, he can't take his mind off the fact that Maricela has glazed eyes.

He waits for her to join the group and he asks whats wrong almost immediately. Maria Clara and Crisostomo look at her and notice the look on her face as well. This catches her off guard.

"Ah este! I am just tired from not getting enough sleep last night. I was excited for the fiesta to start."

Enrique looks quizzically at her until Crisostomo speaks.

"Maricela, make sure to drink lots of water. I'm sure it will help you sleep better."

Maricela thanks him for the prescription and continues with the chattering.

Enrique did not buy the excuse however.

Ang Ikalawang Araw

(The Second Day)

Maricela took the previous night's cloudburst as a sign of misfortune. Morning however was blessed with golden gleaming sunlight, but it did nothing to calm our heroine's rattled heart as she painstakingly trekked to the town hall with Enrique to finally submit her proposal. Enrique was the only one to greet her as Maria Clara and Crisostomo went to shop at the market place. He had his leather suitcase with him that carried the proposal.

They continued with Maricela covering half of her face with her fan. Enrique followed behind her, knowing full well they are in public. A group of talebearers caught sight of the two, and insantly gossip shared among the women.

"Are they making their way to the town hall?"

"Who is the gentlemen following behind her?"

"Is he a bachelor? Such a refined mestizo that man!"

"From what I have heard, A new lawyer and Crisostomo's collegue"

"That man is at a loss, why would he take an impossible case as a first job?"

"A waste of time and resources that hellspawn the now departed possessor of the San Augustus conglomerate decided to keep around"

"How awful to make a man work aimlessly. Making the life of the man harder!"

"Desperada!"

Pondering how deafness would be a blessing in disguise at thay moment, Maricela could only sink her face further into the fan, the words playing again and again in her mind.

"Desperada?"

Enrique relayed back to the women having spun around, his mere status alone in the situation socially communicating for the group to challenge his look. They could only hide behind their fans and continue to gossip.

They arrived at the town hall and Maricela requested to wait outside. Enrique went in by himself and passed the proposal. The man at the reception looked at him questioningly, Enrique merely responding with an impatient look until the man finally placed the proposal in a neatly propped paper stack that will be passed to the mayor.

Enrique made his way out to find Maricela pacing until she saw Enrique come out of the office. She stopped and was about to approach him until a fast calesa zoomed past her, the wheels splashing her with sewage water. She tried to stumble back in shock but ended up leaning against a rickety food stall that flipped at her weight. The food went flying and landed everywhere on her. Her hand was bleeding with cuts and splinters from the stall.

The degrading sight of a woman sullied by the poor cleanliness of the community brought out only cackles and whispered affronts. The vendor of the food stall was outraged and started yelling at her to pay for the damages or she will tell the guardia civil to arrest her.

Enrique quickly put himself between the vendor and Maricela and told her he will be the one to pay for the damages. He handed the lady money from his suitcase and the vendor went on with her day contented.

He then helped the poor girl up, who was shaking from everything that had happened. Her face trained well to remain stoic but her tear ducts betrayed her, shedding enough droplets to let her eyes twinkle under the golden gleams of sunlight. Enrique quickly brought her to the side and removed the splinters from her hand. He cleaned her cuts and guided her to the market place.

They came to a humble tailor, looking for new garments among the designer clothing. Enrique chose a matching blue tapis and saya and paid for it. Maricela's eyes widened as he handed her the clothes and told her to change.

A few moments later she's changed and fresh, just having gotten out of an inn that Maricela compensated excessively, but her expression is still gloomy. They both walk out and Enrique thinks of a way to lighten her mood. An ensemble playing jovial music and a few street dancers dancing with ribbons livening an enitre crowd thickened, rather conveniently, so Enrique brings Maricela to watch. The crowd cheers on but Maricela is still emotionless. Enrique sighs and tries to leave to find something better when the street dancers come towards the both of them and drag them to the middle

"Ladies and Gentlemen! We now present the lucky two who will dance one round!" They passed their maracas adorned with ribbons to the two and the ensemble prepares their next piece.

Maricela gives a mortified face while Enrique smiles confused.

"I c-can't dance..."

Maricela lets out as the music starts.

They follow the street dancers and at first the music was calm and the two of them were surprisingly doing well with Maricela grinning little by little until the music suddenly changed to a fast speed and the street dancers were twirling and changing positions. Maricela started to lose composure until Enrique called her name.

She carefully followed his steps and it seemed that she was dancing proffesionally. In between spins and cycles of dance steps, Maricela could have sworn to have seen a familiar face next to the would be band leader smiling genuinely right at her. She started laughing and smiling and before she knew it the segment ended.

The street dancers thanked them for their participation and they both left with a smile.

Ang Ikatlong Araw

(The Third Day)

Maricela finds herself at a new spot she's frequented. Not the homes of the people on her properties, not the church she now prays to for the approval of her proposal. But at a quiet and cleaner community where her parents now lay resting.

Dead.

They were buried with memories of an unresolved argument. Their deaths couldn't have been more... inconvenient. Maricela remembers how she snapped and shot back at them, refusing to be married off so the San Augustus fortune may be passed to an inheritor chosen by her parents. She clearly recalls how she ended their final argument, shouting.

"Sana 'di na kayo bumalik!"

The process of the arranged marriage was going to be started the moment that Maricela's parents came back home from their business trip. They left the day Maricela uttered those words. Left for their business trip, and left this world leaving Maricela scrambling to secure what they couldn't bring with them.

"I wish you never come back."

She thinks a second time. Remembering those words and how empty they really were the moment they slipped out. Whoever granted that wish clearly couldn't understand. Coping with their deaths has brought out great anguish, as expected. So Maricela had them burried in this peaceful community further out from the toxicity of the town's hustle and bustle. She asked for comfort but what she really needed was to act fast, just like how she was told. Word has already got out that a large fortune is legally waiting to be claimed, many has been stammering to attain it.

Breathing in, Maricela scans the cemetary. Noticing graves of wooden crosses and tombs craved from stone. The former signifying a poor man's burial and the latter for those higher in social standings.

"Nice to see none of that matters around here." Maricela comments to herself. Did all cemetaries house the departed's graves of different backgrounds?

"I think it adds to the beauty of this resting place."

Maricela then turns to find, Enrique?

"Did you... have business here too?" Did Enrique have someone special to pay respects too? Why was he holding sampaguita garlands?

"Oh these are for you. To give to who you're here for." Enrique says handing the flowers.

"They're beautiful, thank you. But how did you know I was going to be here?" Seemed quite supspicious for him to know something quite personal.

"I-I asked around at that church. The one where we first met and I happened to actually find someone who knew you. Well apparently. They even knew I was helping you in your case." Enrique replies, assuring that he hadn't been following her.

"Oh, that's alright then. I think I have a pretty good idea of who told you." Surely it had to be Crisanto. Maricela thinks to herself.

"Did you have something to do that involves me, Enrique?"

"I wanted to check on you after yesterday's...events." Was that the right word? The first thing that came to mind was disaster but was it really?

"But I hadn't thought I would intruding on something like this. Hence the sampaguita." He says pointing at the garlands.

"Right, I should put them on then." Enrique stepped forward and offered a hand to show he wanted to help. Since he did bring the pure as white blooms, she figured she should let him. They crouched just low enough to decorate the stone graves of the San Augustus with the flowers. Their fragrance seemed to smell sweeter after.

They only stood there when the pair were done. Their silence made comfortable with the sounds of rustling leaves and shaking tree branches in the wind. Enrique tries to read Maricela's expression. She didn't seem upset but in deep thought. Looks like she still has plenty to reflect on. He decided to risk it.

"I'm sorry for your early loss, I genuinely hope you've been coping with as much support as needed"

"...You speak with experience?" Maricela breaches.

Enrique nodded, looking up towards the sky as if it held the words he was looking for. "My father was taken from me and my mother too early. The doctors say it was most likely by a heart attack...though it happened too fast infront of us. One second he was gasping in pain while clutching his chest...the next he was gone. Just like that. I was only 14 when that happened and what followed after was a mere blur in my life."

The blur he didn't want to remember vividly. The funeral, his mother grieving, and the years spent in isolation studying.

Maricela looked at Enrique, who was now staring down at the ground.

"I am...truly sorry for what has happened to your father..." Maricela slowly placed her hand on the lawyer's shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his haze and he slowly lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"If I may...what took your parents away too soon?" Enrique asked lightly.

"It-" 'It was my fault' she truly thought.

"It...happened unexpectedly as well. They were on a business trip and along the way...they were ambushed by tulisanes...the guardia civil found them a day later. I received the news after the day they were founded..."

Enrique's eyes widened. He did not expect such grotesque deaths. He noticed the dates carved into the cold stone, both of them died on the same day. The lawyer thought it was more subtle than an assassination. Perhaps a disease or a fire. Anything but an ambush.

"I had no idea...I shouldn't have asked-"

"Oh it's alright señor," Maricela tried to smile. "It was something I had to accept..."

Enrique stayed silent. Maricela spoke up after a few minutes of quiet contemplation.

"Seems as though grief is what binds Filipinos together these days." Maricela eyebrows curved and drew closer to her eyes to show concern, despite how she initially came to the cemetary to wallow in her own grief.

"Bonding over what you would give condolences too, because somehow we can set it all aside to hear each other out."

"In our case it seems it's because we didn't have the leisure to mourn. Deprived of voicing what we want say and longing for what we want to be said to us. " Maricela shrugs.

"Well I should say my father's death wasn't as recent as your parents. But it was untimely too. My education wasn't going to wait for me to find comfort in something, and your proposal brought up from your parents' departure must have forced you to stop entertaining the same sentiment. So I suppose I'm... just reaching out to you as someone to... mutually find solace in... should anything still be unresolved, because someone like you... deserves as much" Being a lawyer Enriques' sure to be excellent in oral communication, but in that instance he faltered, at least from his usually firm and assuring tone.

"It... wasn't the most elegant of consulations. But somehow it felt like the most genuine anyone has been with me"

Her hands clasped together and a soft smile on her face were details that shouted a thanks she's been meaning to say and mean.

Ang Ika-apat na Araw

(The Fourth Day)

The return home was comfortingly silent for Maricela and Enrique after spending the fourth day of the fiesta together with Maria Clara and Crisostomo, or it was at least devoid of articulating any more bottled and unresolved heartstrings to proverbially pull and drag like a rag doll. They aired out enough of how abruptly destitute they were of their parents, confiding in each other to find the comforting finality. Disclosure to now feel closure.

The clopping of the horses' hooves and the colliding of the wheels with stray stones on the road filled in for the absence of chatter. The kalesa is ever so closely reaching Maricela's residence. It felt clingy for Enrique to "walk" Maricela home when he offered, but nonetheless here they were "walking" home this late into the night. Now that remembering that it was late, it made sense for him to have offered.

Enrique opened the door for Maricela when they stopped, the driver not leaving yet as he still needed to take Enrique back to Crisostomo's home. The pair walked closer to the San Augustus estate, and briefly resting on intricately carved benches before lighting any lanterns. The moon makes whatever attempt to illuminate the mansion, but Enrique finds himself appreciating the soft glow as the two lounge outside for a while.

"Your home is quite surreal under the weak moonlight, how much more under an actual full moon?"

A little thing to ponder over, but thinking it over it gives Maricela one more thing to repeatedly appreciate once she wins her case. The moon will shine luminously every month on HER home.

"Together, I'm sure we'll be able to ensure you may gaze on it under a bright moon whenever."

Funny how "together" will mean so much more in the end. Unknown by these two now of course.

"Together?" Enrique asks.

"Of course, or rather I hope you think of us doing this together." Maricela replies

"Pardon? O-of course I do, why would I think otherwise?" Where was this coming from all of a sudden? Enrique thinks.

"Because it always felt like our exchange has been one-sided. That I always need assurance from you for everything I seem to unload on you?" Maricela replies, her tone saddening at near the end of saying it.

"There are still notable people who I can be thankful to, less by 2 now... but nonetheless, and you've become the one I am most appreciative of. But I just can't seem to return the favor." Reclining lower on the bench she occupied, Maricela says so guiltily.

"Then what was yesterday?" Enrique only hears a questioning "hmm".

"I found comfort in you as you did to me at the cemetery right? Doesn't seem like I've shared that part of me to anyone, no?"

"I suppose not." Maricela smiles a bit. Maybe she could deepen that exchange further. "What was your father like?" She asks.

A reasonable pause passed for him to properly summarize his father.

"I like to think ideally he was far too ahead of his time, and that hopefully enough that what he was has been passed on to me." He answered quite happily.

"What do you mean?"

Another pause, ended by him saying that his father had a very rare perspective of progressiveness.

"Barriers exist between us Indios and the Spaniards but he always seemed to see pass that. He married the woman he wanted, a full blooded Indio, and from an early age he mentioned how I could do the same with his blessing. From that I figured he would never have had me engaged to anyone. So here I am left to choose who I suppose."

"I see, he was quite the man indeed." How Maricela wished it was like that for her before. "Had you ever entertained the thought of having that freedom before?"

"No, there was always something apparently. Have you?" Enrique replies.

"I like to think I would have, but another day I'll share the first time me and another mutually agreed that we mean to each other not as spouses." Maricela attempts to jest. They're opposites in that regard, the ability to choose their own partner, but both ended up as now having that choice be put aside. Enrique has seemed to distract himself all his life to avoid that part of adulthood, and Maricela has spent most of hers resisting her parents than actually socializing and paying attention to who she's interested in.

"Haha, seems like quite story. But really, has there ever been anyone you've been genuinely interested in?"

As each passing meeting with each other, Maricela's idea of an ideal man seems to shift, referring to her lawy-

"Some, but only one as of late." She's thankful she's said it so inconspicuously.

"Well I bid you and them the best of luck." Enrique then stands excusing himself to not keep the coachman any longer, and they exchange goodbyes under a brighter natural light from the sky.

[kiszkakiss]

Just Between the Two of Us - Part One

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

[AO3 or Wattpad, if you prefer: x / x]

Summary: Based on this request. You are one of Greta Van Fleet's personal assistants and Josh finally builds up the courage to ask you out.

Warnings: One swear but it’s in a nice way. The rest is a fluff fest.

A/N: Alright, so, this is part one of two because I got carried away with establishing the relationship. This is just a fluffy thing. It's definitely not the most realistic scenario but I had fun writing it anyway. Stay tuned for a little bit of angst in part two, plus a lovely fluffy ending.

Also, sorry my writing is so shit.

[Word count: 1,803]

Your average day consisted of going on food and coffee runs, making sure dressing room riders were being taken care of and generally babysitting; ensuring that the band were behaving and showing up to appointments and events on time - at the very least. Being one of Greta Van Fleet’s personal assistants could be a bit of an ordeal but you loved every minute. Plus, you got to see your favourite band perform every other night. It was pretty special. Not to mention the friendships you developed with your bosses. At this point, they treated you like family and they let you get away with more than your average employer. If you were sick, they’d let you rest on the bus or in your hotel room. If you were having a bad mental health day, they wouldn’t push you too hard and give you lots of love and cuddles. You really had the best job; you were so grateful.

Hanging out with the band in their dressing room, before their show, wasn’t unusual. There was a beautiful spread of food and drink that you all had been happily digging into. The boys were in the middle of a jam session but you had zoned out, scrolling through your emails; your feet resting on the coffee table. Josh was sitting next to you, albeit on the other side of the couch, but his vocalising had quietened. You looked up from your phone, to Jake, Danny and Sam who were sitting on the couch opposite you, still playing their guitars. You whipped your head around to look at Josh. He was looking at you but he quickly averted his gaze when you caught him. “Hey, what’s up?” “Nothing. Just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night; adrenaline, y’know?” You nodded, noticing the bags under his eyes. “Top tip from me: naps.” “Wow… that’s a great tip. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” His words dripped with sarcasm. “Alright, no need for sass. Go take a nap now; it’ll help, I promise.” It was like talking to a child. Josh just pouted and rested his elbow on the couch arm, supporting his head in his hand. His eyes fluttered closed. A power nap is good enough, you thought.

-

That evening, Josh delivered his best performance on the tour by far. His vocals were clear and crisp; experimenting with different runs and riffs. He had more energy to run up and down the width of the stage, too; acknowledging each section of the audience. It was breathtaking. Josh made every single audience member feel involved, not to mention safe and free to be who they were in the moment. You were watching from the wings and you couldn’t help but notice that he kept glancing over at you. When the boys had finished their encore, they said their thank you’s and left the stage. You were clapping and cheering along with everyone else when you realised that Josh was making a beeline straight towards you with a massive toothy grin. He grabbed you by your shoulders, looked directly into your eyes, then all over your face and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed just as tight.

You had already packed away the boys things on the bus right before they went on stage, so, there was no dawdling; just straight from the stage to the bus. The energy was electric, they were all buzzing. You headed into the restroom, washed away the make up on your face and got changed into your pyjamas; a plain pair of black leggings and an old Greta Van Fleet tee the boys gave you at the beginning of the tour. As you padded back out into the living area, Jake was wide eyed, animatedly praising Josh. “You killed it tonight!” He seemed genuinely in awe. “You need to keep incorporating those vocals, you sounded incredible.” “Yeah, well, I have y/n to thank. Fucking naps, man.” Josh pointed at you, shaking his head and smiling. “What did I tell you? You’ll never doubt me again. Anyway, you guys can stay up if you want but I am getting some well deserved rest. Night, guys.” You gave a small wave while the boys chorused their goodnight’s and you tucked yourself away into your bottom bunk.

-

A few hours later, you were woken up by a thump next to your bunk and then footsteps. One of the boys must have gotten up to get water. Probably Jake or Josh because they insisted on taking the top bunks. You put it out of your mind and closed your eyes again, waiting to fall back to sleep.

Just as you felt yourself drift off, another noise woke you up. That’s it, you thought, ripping your curtain open and swinging your legs out of your bunk and making your way into the living area. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Josh as he sat at the table; dim, yellow lighting washed over him. “Josh,” you began sleepily, “what are you doing up?” “Jesus, you scared me.” He clutched his chest. “Make some noise and announce yourself next time!” He whisper-yelled. You shushed him, “Keep it down, you’ll wake the others! You already woke me up.” Josh watched you walk towards him and slide into the seat opposite. His arms rested on the table and he was clutching a glass of water between his hands; as you had predicted. “Sorry. I got thirsty. Nice hair, by the way.” Josh smirked at you as he took a sip. You shook your bed hair out with your hands. “Thanks. It’s the new, hip, trendy style… I think it’ll catch on.” You joked and he beamed a grin at you. There was a comfortable silence, then. You moved closer to the window and brought your feet up to sit in a basket position. Josh did the same and you both watched the world pass by for a while, feeling yourself zone out. You were still really tired.

Josh cleared his throat and it brought you out of your sleepy haze. He got up, washed his empty glass and walked back over to sit next you. He started tapping on the table and you felt a weird build up of nervous energy; suddenly wide awake. “Thanks, again, for helping me out yesterday.” Josh spoke gently. “It’s literally my job to help but okay.” You tried to catch his eye but he was staring at his hands, tapping out a rhythm with his fingertips. You covered his fidgeting hands with your own and he let out a long sigh. “Alright. I’m just going to say this now. If I don’t now, I never will.” Josh moved your hands from his, took them in his own and twisted his body to face you with his left leg fully on the seat and his right leg dangling over the edge. “You can take this as… whatever. Like, you don’t have to reciprocate or anything.” He rambled. “Get to the point, Kiszka.” You giggled. It was odd feeling his long fingers wrapped around your own. “Right. Yeah. Okay. To the point. Getting there.” He was giggling too, now. “This is the most unprofessional thing but… I really like you.” The words sort of fell from his lips, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough. “Um…” you paused, “I like you too but, Josh, I’d be concerned if you didn’t like me because you probably would have fired me by now.” “No,” You shushed him again and he made a point to quieten the rest of his speech, “I mean, I like you-like you. More than a PA - more than a friend.” He spoke with more confidence now, still holding your hands and ghosting over them with his thumbs. You were a little taken aback. There hadn’t been many signs… and then you remembered. Catching him looking at you, the sass he gave you, teasing you. He was flirting. Your eyes lit up when you realised; you were completely oblivious. “So…” you started, giving his hands a slight squeeze, “what you’re saying is that… you want to date? Me? Date me?” “Yeah, pretty much.” “Aw, you’re blushing.” You stroked the back of your fingers against his cheek and he shied away, giggling and playfully swatting your hand away. “Is that a yes, or…?” Josh leaned in a little more towards you, really looking you in the eyes this time, trying to search them for an answer. “Yes, Josh. I’ll date you, you sweet, sweet boy.” He let go of your hands and embraced you in one swift movement, wrapping his arms around you. His hands quickly found their way under your shirt, holding the smallest part of your waist, savouring the warmth of your body, and they stayed there as you rested yours on the back of his neck. “Maybe keep it just between the two of us, though?” You asked, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. “I mean, I’m still on the job while we’re out on the road, y’know? Don’t want the others to think I have a favourite.” You laughed. Josh pulled his face back from your shoulder, his hands still caressing your waist. “Oh, yeah. Of course. That makes sense.” There was a short pause. Both of you just feeling each others skin and gazing into each others eyes. Josh was the one to break the silence. “I’m going to kiss you now.” You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up.

His lips were soft; they tasted like vanilla lip balm. Josh parted his mouth, deepening the kiss a little more as he ran his hands up and down your back. When you pulled away, he buried his face into your neck. You held him there, just enjoying being close to him. “Sun’s coming up.” His voice was barely a whisper, muffled against your t-shirt. You just nodded and stroked his hair; thankful that you all had today off. “Okay. Let’s try and get a couple more hours sleep and we can explore more of,” you gestured, “….this, this afternoon.” Josh untangled himself from you and stood up with his hand out towards you. You took it and he led you to your individual bunks; his above yours. “Milady.” He drew open your curtain and gestured for you to climb inside. “Dork.” You whispered and gave his cheek a small kiss before crawling into the bunk. “See you in a few hours.” He gave you a wink. All you could do was blush and shake your head before closing your curtain. You could hear him climb up to his own bunk and shuffle around, trying to get comfortable. Just knowing he was there was nice. This was really happening.

Part Two: x

[superpooped]

Dealing with Quarantine (from an actual expert)

Hello!

Today’s post is for people who are having their first taste of isolation or quarantine and are feeling a bit overwhelmed.

There’s a lot of these going around, and although they can be useful (I have no idea about specific Corona-based medical practise or finance) they seem to be written by people who are generally out and about in the world.

No offence, but what you really need is a Professional. You need… A HOUSEBOUND PERSON!

And that’s where I come in.

For those of you that are new here, I have a condition where, amongst other things, my body doesn’t create energy like it should. My mitochondria are all messed up, so, as you can imagine, that has an impact on… everything.

I am too exhausted to leave the house, or sometimes my bed. So I’ve been cared for by my lovely family for seven and a half years, and have been housebound for the last five and a half.

By now, I’m an old hand at this, so I’ll be able to help you out with some of the lesser known issues that people without that half a decade of experience just can’t tell you.

Some of this may seem strange or contradictory in places, but I don’t make the rules. This is how it is.

Choice makes a difference

You’re probably learning (or about to learn) that the one thing that makes a difference as to whether doing something or not is fun is Choice.

The number of times I’ve had someone say to me “it must be so nice to be at home all the time” is ridiculous.

The person saying it is thinking of the fun type of staying at home, where you decide to have a duvet day and watch movies and eat toast in your pants.

But now people are being faced with the less fun kind. The kind where you can’t leave.

Staying at home because you want to… fun. Staying at home because of Doom Plague Potential… not fun. (Also, bagsy “Doom Plague Potential” as a band name.)

It’s tough being uncertain when you’re going to see people, do things or get on with your life, but…

If you think about it, you are making a choice. You’re making the choice to put your health first. That’s sensible.

And if you’re careful with others who are more at risk then you’re making the choice to be kind. That’s even better.

You can do it

I’m not even meaning this in an inspirational quote sense, you can actually do this. It may be tricky, but if I can last half a decade in my house, you can last a couple of weeks, or even a couple of months.

If you’re actually sick then make sure you have people who can check up on you via the internet or phone if not in person. Seek medical attention where necessary.

Otherwise…

The Internet exists - embrace it

All that “put down your phone and live in the REAL WORLD” stuff is about to become a load of cobblers.

You will feel lonely, the Internet is a great tool to prevent that, so embrace it.

Group chats, social media, and video chats make a MASSIVE difference in the lives of people stuck at home, so utilise that.

Even when you’re watching tv, have a group chat of mates watching the same thing and talk about it as if you’re all there together. Because you are... kind of.

You can also contact plenty of mental healthcare professionals over the internet (or phone) if you feel that’s something you need. Don’t be afraid to reach out. There are people available.

The Internet isn’t real

At the same time as the internet being an amazing tool and opportunity for social interaction, it’s important to remember that it’s not a complete experience of the world.

It seems obvious when you’re able to leave the house, but it will quickly become clear that things start to feel a bit more skewed without the regular interaction of polite (or not so polite) strangers in everyday life.

Things will seem more polarised and polarising, and specific, potentially small things may seem extremely important. That’s normal, just... bear it in mind and take a deep breath before reacting to things.

TV, Radio, Things to do!

If you, unlike me, are at home as a precautionary measure instead of long term health condition you can probably do things. Hooray!

Right now that is less than you're used to, and BELIEVE ME I know that feel, bro, but you can still do things and that’s wonderful.

Imagining a lengthy period where you’re stuck at home sounds awful, but imagine it without TV, books or the internet. Or crafts. Or DIY. Or the ability to clean your clothes or yourself.

I’m trying really hard not to play the “be grateful” card here, because people have said it to me despite me struggling (or being completely unable) to do any of those things and it made me want to bite them. But also... you can likely do those things. So maybe this is the point where all those trite inspiration memes come in handy and you can embrace the things you can do.

Unless you are sick, in which case, for the love of all that is holy, do not do the things.

Stay in bed. Drink fluids. Have people check in on you as safely as possible. Resist the urge to get up and make your body fight harder than it is, because that will not help you.

Trust me, despite all those “you can do anything if you BELIEVE” quotes, it’s not strong or clever to push your body when it’s struggling. You will just use up energy your body could be using to heal you. Take it from the sick person.

Stay in bed till you feel better, and then a bit longer, just to make sure.

And resist the urge to go out in public and rub your germy self onto various surfaces.

You will come to love your Postie/Courier.

Oh, those kind humans who strive through wind and gale to bring us parcels and food, and most importantly, contact with the outside world.

A face! A new face! Possibly some small talk. You never knew that was a thing you could miss before this moment.

Will you potentially feel the need to disinfect everything you get in the post? Possibly. Will you be ever so glad to see someone who doesn’t live in your house or flat? Most definitely.

They must be protected for they are the keepers of the parcels.

Time will lose all meaning.

The only thing I can reliably liken it to is that weird week between Christmas and New Year where you don’t know what day, time or year it is. Or why you’re covered in biscuit crumbs.

If you don’t celebrate these events and have have no prior experience in this weird time warp... I’m sorry. Things are about to get real.

I genuinely forget my own age at this point.

Keep to a regular schedule.

You’re going to re-enter the world at some point but that’s going to be difficult if your schedule is all messed up.

Keeping to a normal(ish) schedule will also mean you’re more likely to sleep better, which will be handy if you do actually get sick.

If you’re going to be working from home then you’re probably going to have to use alarms to get you to do anything because otherwise you will look up and it’s three in the afternoon, you’ve done nothing and you’re still in your jim-jams.

(To be fair, if you want to work in your jim-jams that’s a totally valid choice.)

Try to stick to specific working hours if you can. It’s much easier to switch off your mind from work worries when you’ve got commute time in the middle, so having set hours or a signal to yourself (like changing clothes) that the work day is over will help you wind down a bit easier. I remember that much from my healthy freelance days.

Exercise?

I imagine that if you’re housebound without being sick you’re probably going to have a ton of pent up energy.

I’ll admit I’m completely guessing here, because energy is quite literally what my body is rubbish at producing so exercising makes me worse, which is why I’m stuck in my house unable to do anything in the first place.

Looking back at those heady years before I got sick, however, I would get pretty restless being stuck inside during that weird post-Christmas week, so it’s probably good to try and exercise some of that off.

Stretches, yoga, kick a football about in the garden. Whatever floats your boat.

You’ll probably sleep better and it’s good for releasing endorphins too.

Again, if you’re sick, don’t do this. Just don’t. Coronavirus targets your respiratory system so nobody wants you to be doing star jumps like a muppet. Go lie down.

Touch withdrawal

If you live on your own, or even if people inside your house are avoiding contact to prevent potential contamination you may experience mild touch withdrawal. I don’t know if that’s an official term, but that’s what I’m calling it.

You can counter this with:

Blankets, duvets, or weighted blankets

There’s a reason people are given shock blankets after trauma, and that’s to simulate a hug and release the associated endorphins. Having a blanket, duvet or weighted blanket around you will do that same thing.

Pets

Having access to a furry (or scaly or feathered) friend will help with loneliness and touch withdrawal. A lot of them will be loving the chance to spend more time with you.

ASMR

I’ve had people tell me that ASMR videos help them with loneliness and touch withdrawal.

ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response and is basically a tingly feeling of calm and being cared for that a person can experience when watching or listening to certain triggers.

YouTube is full of people tapping on bottles and turning books pages, and it can be really useful.

I was a bit dubious to begin with, but honestly the ones where the person pretends to cut your hair make me into a giant pile of goop.

Not the same as long term isolation

This is going to pass. You will be able to leave the house again, and it will be relatively soon.

When it does, please be respectful of those who are still here.

Yes, a two week quarantine might give you a tiny glimpse into what it’s like to be housebound, but it won’t make you an expert in long term isolation due to illness or disability. That’s a whole other ball game.

Please do not equate the two, because it honestly feels a randomer in a bar who has spent two minutes thinking on a topic telling you about something you have a doctorate in.

Coronavirus is scary, and quarantine or self-isolation is not something you’re used to but it is temporary.

Finally

If disabled or sick people are getting salty on the internet it’s because they have reason to be.

A lot of us have been stuck like this for years or even decades, and many of the options that would make things much more accessible for us have only magically become possible now there’s a threat to the general, abled population.

It doesn’t help that lots of people are trotting out the old “it’s only the old and sick who are in danger”. Thanks for that, mate. So glad that it’s only us sickies (and oldies) who might die and not the important, useful people that are in danger.

Many of us do not have that light at the end of the tunnel when we can leave the house and just get on with our lives. I have no idea when or if I will be able to rejoin society fully, or even partly. And I just have to get on with it.

So take this opportunity to be a little more mindful of those people.

I do hope this helps people who are nervous about being isolated. Keep calm. It will be alright.

Originally posted on superpooped.blogspot.com

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #010: Blood Lake (1987) [Retrospective #2]

"...I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him...“

Over the years, I’ve been scowering the Internet trying to find the worst of the worst when it comes to horror movies. I guess you can call me a glutton for punishment in that regard since some movies need to be seen to be believed, rather than looked into as an example of what bad filmmaking looks like. Whether it’s a problem with the acting, the writing, the technical specs, or all of the above, you know you’re in for a good [or horrible] time if it checks one or more of those boxes. When it comes to bad horror movie lists, not just shot on video ones, one film in particular seems to rule them all as it’s hailed as one of the worst movies of all time, if not the worst horror film ever made. This time around, I’m making an ill-fated return to the Oklahoma to talk about Tim Boggs’ lone directorial credit, Blood Lake.

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Blood Lake tells the story about a group of friends who are being stalked by a mad man while on a weekend getaway trip at the lake. It’s not the most original concept out there, but hey, what else is new? It’s interesting that this is Boggs’ only attempt at being a filmmaker and the rest of his credits are attributed to being part of the sound department for notable films and shows like Lost Highway, Tales From the Crypt, Xena: Warrior Princess, The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and Legion. That’s a hell of a resume, but that’s not what we’re here to really discuss.

I heard about the notority of this for years, and I decided to take the plunge with it nearly five years ago where I live reviewed it for Under the Morgue. Needless to say, I didn’t have fun with it and I don’t think I ever ripped into a film that hard up until that point. With the anniversary date of that review coming up, I thought it would be fair to do a retrospect on this to see if it really lives up to how genuinely atrocious I thought it was all those years ago.

Blood Lake in One Gif:

I think I need to lay down for this one. Do you know that feeling of nostalgia you get when you see, hear, or smell something that really takes you back to a better time? Well, whatever the antithisis to that is would describe the seething rage and horror I felt re-watching this.

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While it’s true that some movies need to be witnessed to truly understand how bad they are, it’s also fair to say that some things shouldn’t be known by mere mortals - and this absolutely applies to films like Ax’Em and Blood Lake. They’re as cut-and-dry and boring as they are in premise, and a train wreck of a travesty in execution at that.

The quality from a technical standpoint is pretty damn atrocious, particularly during some of the nighttime shots since it can be hard to tell what’s going on and it feels like you’re squinting the whole time trying to tell what you’re looking at. The sound is just as bad, though sometimes it fairs better than the visuals, even if a good chunk of the time you can’t tell what the hell anyone is saying because they’re either too far from the mic to be picked up or it’s a dialogue problem with everyone mumbling, talking over each other, or fumbling over their lines. IMDB says the sound was shot with a single shotgun microphone, and yeah...it kind of shows.

C’mon. Look at this and tell me you can figure out what the fuck all is going on.

The writing feels almost non-existent as Boggs encouraged the actors to paraphrase the dialogue in their own words to I guess make it feel more natural. However, with how clumsy things are, it’s hard to really tell how much was ad-libbed or done by the actors themselves. The total direction and set-up with the pacing is absolute garbage and some of the worst I’ve ever seen, as it’s padded out with gratuitously long shots of them doing things like “extreme” sports on the water or a scene of them drinking at a table that goes on for close to ten minutes. It feels like the director left the camera on a tripod and accidentally filmed their lunch break. People have said this feels like a glorified home movie, and I get why. I’ve ripped on Las Vegas Bloodbath for how bad the filler was during its third act; as well as the opening dance sequences and the yo mama jokes in the opening of Ax’Em for needlessly dragging things out, or even the flashback sequences in Nick Millard’s films - even if they don’t exist within the canon of the story. Hell, Sledgehammer does this too by slowing down scenes in order to pad it out to a 60 minute runtime after being told it was too short.

When it comes to the characters, they aren’t anything special and are mostly forgettable. With this camp, I designated them to one of two sides of the field; boring and awful. All of them I’ve mostly shoved over on the boring side, as they never really do anything noteworthy or special, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you their names off the top of my head for the most part. However, some of the guys do teeter on being awful and annoying as hell, but one character in particular stayed on the shit teir side of the spectrum from start to finish - which would be Tony.

Oh, god. Tony....

This guy right here. This motherfucker made watching this the first time around feel like a total chore. But the second time around, and willingly so, it was like pulling teeth to get me to finish.

I don’t mind weird, perverted, sleazy dickheads who show up now and again, but Tony is a special case because his entire shtick is being a weird creep to the point of giving off rapey vibes with the other guys over how his goal at the end of the weekend is to conquer some girl he goes to school with. Bro, you’re like twelve, shut the fuck up. It’s beyond cringe. It’s insufferable, and prior to this, I said over on Under the Morgue that Alan from Return to Sleepaway Camp was the most unsympathetic “protagonist” I had ever seen. But now, compared to him and the majority of the characters from Await Further Instructions, I don’t know who is the most grating to sit through - and I spent most of my time on that review talking about how the zero level of characterization makes it so hard to watch. In that review, I said I can appreciate a scummy character if they have any sort of secondary personality trait that makes you love to hate them, or at least makes them tolerable. With Tony, he’s just an annoying, pervy brat who I guess is about as comedic and charming as a trench foot infection.

It’s pretty damn rare that I see a movie where I root for the villain(s) from start to finish because I can’t stand the majority, if not all of the characters. So, having to recall how many times I wished Tony would have drowned within the first fifteen minutes or had a joint stubbed out in his damn eye has proved to be more enjoyable than the entirety of this shit show, since the only tail he should have been chasing was the tailpipe of the damn car he arrived in. I was honestly surprised we didn’t get any Summer Camp Nightmare moments given how much of a creep the twerp is, and I still am now.

The fact that this is called a slasher film feels like a cruel joke, since after the opening kill, the next murder doesn’t happen until close to the fifty minute mark in an 82 minute movie (78 minutes if you get rid of the credits). Plus, because of the abysmal quality, you can’t even see them clear enough to tell what’s happening. It’s so frustrating to feel like you’d get more out of the death scenes by closing your eyes the whole time. It’s up there with Ax’Em in terms of quality and how much it feels like they cheat you, which makes me wonder why bother at all if it’s possible you can’t even see what’s going on when you were editing the damn thing?

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So, here we are at the dreaded moment where I close this off with how I’d rate this. Is it as bad as I remember it being? Yes, if not more so. I had to pause and walk away from it for a bit to cool off and do something else because it was so tedious sit through.

It just goes on, and on, and on, which was only made worse by obnoxious characters that were a total hassle to put up with who could have been reduced to Douchebag #1, Generic Girl #2, and Rattail Motherfucker #1 based on how little they actually did to make me want to remember their names - and the ones who did were the most insufferable of the lot that I couldn’t forget them even if I wanted to. There’s little to no actual blood and gore, and with the very little there was, it was completely wasted in scenes that you can’t see clearly which is a damn shame because one of the kills could have had a decent reveal if it was shot better.

If I had to say just one good thing about the film to be generous, not counting that it had some kind of a reachable end, it was the mediocre soundtrack supplied by the band Voyager. It’s not good at all, but hey, if you like cheesy 80s horror soundtracks, there’s that going for it...I guess. With all that being said, I never want to see this disaster ever again. I’m trying to wrap my head around how people genuinely like this, even in a so bad it’s good type of way, and I just don’t get it. This, for me, is arguably one of the worst horror movies I’ve ever seen, and probably ever will.

RATING: 0.5/10