#and the cafeteria faces east so gets good sun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 8

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 8 - This Venerable One Gets Punished

Mo Ran lay in bed like a dead fish for three days. Just as his wounds started to heal, he was summoned to Red Lotus Pavilion to do manual labour.

This was also part of his punishment. During the punishment period, Mo Ran couldn't go down the mountain, but he also couldn't just laze around. So he had to help out the sect and do some drudgery.

Generally speaking, these errands were things like: helping the cafeteria lady at Mengpo Hall wash the dishes, scrubbing the three hundred and sixty-five stone lions on the pillars of the Naihe Bridge, transcribing extremely boring archive files, and so on.

But what kind of place was Red Lotus Pavilion? It was the residence of that bastard Chu Wanning, known as the cursed place called Red Lotus Hell.

Few people in Life-Death Peak had been there, and everyone who had been there left with either their legs or their arms broken.

Therefore, in addition to Red Lotus Hell, Chu Wanning's bedroom had a more grounded nickname: Broken Leg Pavilion.

There was an inside joke circulating around the sect: "The Pavilion hides a beauty, and the beauty holds Tianwen. Enter the gate of broken legs, know the suffering of getting your legs broken. If you want your meridians broken, go to the Elder Yuheng."

There was once a female disciple who wasn't afraid of death. She was bold enough to lust after Elder Yuheng's beauty. Taking advantage of the dark night and high winds, she sneaked to the Southern Peak and climbed onto the eaves, intending to watch the Elder bathe and strip his clothes.

As you can imagine, the female warrior was beaten within an inch of death by Tianwen, crying for her father and calling her mother, and lay in bed for no less than a hundred days.

And Chu Wanning also declared that, if anyone else dared to commit another crime, he would carve out the eyes of the perpetrator himself.

Do you see? What complete nonsense! What puzzling behaviour! What a heinous man!

Within the sect, there used to be innocent silly girls who thought that, because they were women, Elder Yuheng would pity them and show compassion. They were always laughing and joking in front of him, trying to attract his attention. But ever since the elder whipped that one female hooligan, no one dared to hit on him anymore.

To Elder Yuheng, whether it was men or women, he didn't have the disposition of a gentleman. Other than a good-looking face, there was nothing redeeming about him - this was how Chu Wanning was viewed by the disciples of this sect.

The junior brother who had delivered the summons looked at Mo Ran with sympathy. He tried to stay quiet, but in the end, couldn't hold it back: "Brother Mo. . ."

"Hmm?"

". . . Elder Yuheng has such a bad temper. No one who went to the Red Lotus Water Pavilion came out able to stand. Maybe you could see if you could say your wounds haven't healed and beg Yuheng Elder to let you wash dishes instead?"

Mo Ran was very grateful for this junior brother's bodhisattva heart, but he didn't agree.

Beg Chu Wanning?

Forget it. He doesn't need to get beaten by Tianwen a second time.

So he strenuously put on his clothes, dragged his feet, and walked reluctantly to Life-Death Peak's southern peak.

Red Lotus Pavilion, Red Lotus Hell. There wasn't a single person in sight for a hundred li around Chu Wanning's residence.

No one wanted to go close to his residence. Chu Wanning's bad taste and uncertain personality made everyone in the sect stay far away from him.

Mo Ran was a bit nervous. He didn't know what Chu Wanning would make him do as punishment. His thoughts ran wild the whole trip to the southern peak. After passing through the dense bamboo groves, large swathes of beautiful red lotus came into view.

It was early morning, the sun rising from the east, reflecting a splendid shine on the horizon. The red lotus stalks in the pond stretched towards the flaming clouds in the sky, complementing each other; magnificent. At the edge of the pond, a curved zig-zag bridge led to the pavilion standing in serene silence. Behind it was a curtain of waterfalls streaming down the mountain, the fine crystal water droplets raining against the rocks at the bottom. The watery mist created by it evaporated into the air, light gleaming through the fog, creating a sense of enchanting tranquillity.

This is what Mo Ran thought about this:

Gross.

Wherever Chu Wanning lived, no matter how beautiful it was, would always be gross to him!

Just look at it, so arrogantly extravagant, a true waste of extravagance, in fact. The disciples’ dorms are all closely connected to each other and they don't take up much surface area. And then there's the mighty Elder Yuheng, who occupies a whole mountain by himself. He even dug three large ponds and filled them with lotus flowers. Although, these lotus flowers are special varieties and can be refined into immortal medicine, but—

This is getting off track, the place was not pleasing to the eye. He wished he could burn down Broken Leg Pavilion with his torch!

All he could ever do was silently criticize this place. Given that he was only sixteen* this year, he was no match for Chu Wanning. Mo Ran showed up outside Chu Wanning's residence regardless. He stood at the door, squinted his eyes, and put on a sickeningly sweet demure, pretending to be the ideal disciple.

*(T/N The original text flips between all these ages. Mo Ran is just guessing how old he is so that's why it keeps going to 14/15/16)

"Disciple Mo Ran here to greet his master."

"Yes, come in."

The room was chaotic and disorganized. The cold-blooded demon Chu Wanning was dressed in a white robe. The lapels were folded high and tightly, giving off an air of purity and abstinence. Today, he had his hair in a high ponytail, covered with a black metal hair ring. He sat on the ground fiddling with a bunch of mechanical parts, biting a pen he had in his mouth.

Casually glancing at Mo Ran, with the pen still in his mouth, he said vaguely: "Come here."

Mo Ran approached him.

It was no easy feat. Considering there were no benches or tables in this room, artwork and metal broken wood were scattered everywhere.

Mo Ran's brows twitched. He had never entered Chu Wanning's room in his previous life, and he had no idea that this well-dressed beautiful man lived in such a mess. . . He was at a loss for words.

"Master, what is this?"

"Night Wanderer."

"What?"

Chu Wanning was a little impatient, probably because it was inconvenient to speak with a pen in his mouth: "Night Wanderer."

Mo Ran silently glanced at the mess of parts on the ground.

His master was hailed as Shizun Chu, and it wasn't just out of vanity. Speaking honestly, Chu Wanning was a very powerful man. Whether it is his three god-grade weapons, his cultivation techniques, or his machine-building skills, he was clearly worthy of being defined by four words: "the peak of excellence". This was also the reason why he had such a bad temper and was so difficult to serve, but the major cultivation sects still tried to fight over him for those skill.

Regarding the "Night Wanderer", the reborn Mo Ran was well aware of it.

It was a kind of machine made by Chu Wanning, cheap to make but had strong combat power. It can guard the ordinary people in the lower cultivation world from ghosts and demons at night.

In his previous life, the well-made Night Wanderer had almost become a must-have machine for every household. The price of one was equivalent to a broom, and the effect was much easier to handle than the Grinning Door God.

After Chu Wanning died, those Night Wanderers still guarded the poor families who couldn't afford a high-level cultivator. This compassionate heart, coupled with Chu Wanning's affection for his disciples. . . hehe, it really makes Mo Ran despise him.

Mo Ran sat down and looked at the "Night Wanderer" which was just a bunch of parts at this time, and the past flashed through his mind. He couldn't help picking up one of the Night Wanderer's limbs and grasped it in his hand for a closer look.

Chu Wanning clipped a few components, finally freeing his hands. He took the pen out of his mouth and glared at Mo Ran: "That one was just finished with tung oil, don't touch it."

"Oh. . ." Mo Ran put down the machine. He put his fake smile back on still looking cute and completely harmless. He asked with a smile, "Shizun summoned me here, are you planning to let me help?"

Chu Wanning hummed: "Mm."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Clean up the house."

Mo Ran's smile froze. He looked around at the room that looked like it had been hit by an earthquake: ". . ."

Chu Wanning was a genius in immortal cultivation and an idiot in life.

After picking up the fifth broken teacup that had never been swept up, Mo Ran finally couldn't stand it: "Shizun, when was the last time you cleaned your house? My god, it's so messy!"

Chu Wanning was looking at his drawings, and didn't look up when Mo Ran spoke to him: "Almost a year."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

"Where do you usually sleep?"

"What?" There must be something wrong with the drawing. Chu Wanning was upset and looked even more impatient than usual. He rubbed his head and replied in a huff, "Of course it's the bed."

Mo Ran glanced at the bed. It was piled with all kinds of machines that had been mostly completed, as well as a bunch of tools such as saws, axes, files, and so on.

Seriously, how did this man sleep without cutting his own head off?

After working for most of the day, the sawdust on the floor had filled three dustpans, and the white towel that had wiped down the bookcase was ten times more black. By noon, he had only cleaned about half.

Fuck Chu Wanning, this person is really more poisonous than a leeching woman.

Cleaning a room didn't seem like much of a punishment, it didn't really seem like hard work, but who knew that it was such a ghastly place that hadn't been touched in a year? Not to mention that he was covered with wound. Even if he was healthy now, he could shorten his lifespan by half going through all of this!

"Shizun. . ."

"Hm?"

"Your pile of clothes. . ." They'd been stacked there for about three months.

Chu Wanning finally got one of Night Wanderer's arms attached. He rubbed his sore shoulder, looked up at the robes on the suitcase, and said coldly: "I wash them myself."

Mo Ran was relieved. Thank goodness. But he was still a little curious: "Really? Shizun can wash clothes?"

Chu Wanning glanced at him, and after a while, coldly said: "What's so hard about it? Throw them in water, soak them, take them out, and dry them."

". . ." After hearing this, he really didn't know any girl who would keep lusting after Chu Wanning. Mo Ran truly thought that it would break the hearts of dozen of women to find out how disgusting this man really was.

"It's getting late. You can accompany me to the dining hall and finish the rest when you get back."

There were people coming and going from Meng Po Hall, and the Life-Death Peak disciples were eating together. Chu Wanning grabbed a lacquered wooden tray, took a few dishes and sat in the corner silently.

From where he was, no one sat within twenty feet of him.

No one dared to sit too close to Elder Yuheng, for fear that he would get upset, and they would get a lashing from Tianwen. Chu Wanning himself actually knew about this, but he didn't mind. A cold beauty sat there, gently eating the food in the bowl.

But today wasn't like usual.

Mo Ran was brought by him, so naturally he had to follow him.

Others are afraid of him. So was Mo Ran, but he had already died once, so Chu Wanning was nothing in comparison.

Especially after the fear of first seeing him had subsided, the hatred of Chu Wanning from his previous life slowly emerged. So what if Chu Wanning was powerful? In his last life, he still died by his hands.

Mo Ran sat down in front of him, calmly chewing the sweet and sour pork ribs in the bowl. He crunched on the bones then spit them out into a pile.

Chu Wanning suddenly slammed down his chopsticks.

Mo Ran stopped for a moment.

". . . Can you stop eating with your mouth open?"

"I chew the bones, how am I supposed to do that with my mouth closed?"

"Then don't eat the bones."

"But I like to eat the bones."

"Eat around them."

The two quarreling voices grew louder and louder, and some disciples were already peeping at them.

Mo Ran fought the urge to throw the rice bowl over Chu Wanning's head. He pursed his lips, and after a while, he narrowed his eyes, and a sweet smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

"Shizun, don't shout so loudly. Others might hear, won't they laugh at us?"

Chu Wanning has always been thin-skinned, and his voice really softened. He whispered: "Get out."

Mo Ran burst out laughing.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

"Hey, Shizun, don't stare at me. Come on, let's eat. I'll try to be quiet."

Mo Ran had laughed enough and started playing nice again, the sound of his chewing much softer.

Chu Wanning gradually went back to gently eating. Seeing that Mo Ran was bring obedient, his face slightly relaxed, no longer looking so bitter and upset. He lowered his head, eating his green beans and tofu with grace.

After a long pause, Mo Ran started to do it again.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. In summary, seeing Chu Wanning in this life, he wanted to make a fool of himself and do whatever he could to make him angry.

So Chu Waning found that although Mo Ran did not chew loudly this time, he began to grab the ribs with his hands and eat them, sloppily eating with greasy hands and sauce-covered fingers.

Chu Wanning's blue forehead vein popped. Endure it.

He lowered his eyelashes. He didn't look at Mo Ran, and focused on his own meal.

Mo Ran didn't know if he had gotten too carefree or forgetful while eating, but he accidentally threw one of the gnawed bones into Chu Wanning's rice bowl.

Chu Wanning stared at the messy and hideous rib bone, and the surrounding air so condensed and frozen it was visible to the naked eye.

"Mo Ran. . . !!!"

"Shizun. . ." Mo Ran was quite frightened. He wasn't sure whether what he said sounded true or fake. "That. . . Uh, I didn't mean it."

Probably fake.

". . ."

"Don't be angry, I'll take it out for you."

He really stretched out his chopsticks, stuck them into Chu Wanning's bowl, and quickly picked out the bone.

Chu Wanning's face was pale, like he was about to vomit.

Mo Ran batted his eyelashes, and there was a pitiful grievance on his delicate face: "Shizun, do you dislike me?"

". . ."

"Shizun, I'm sorry."

It was just that.

Chu Wanning thought to himself: Why do you need to be restrained with the junior disciples?

He gave up the urge to summon Tianwen to hit Mo Ran. His appetite was gone, and he got up and said: "I'm full."

"What? Is that all you're going to eat? Shizun, you've barely touched your food."

Chu Wanning brushed him off: "I'm not hungry."

Mo Ran's heart felt like it was as joyful as a flower, and he still sweetly said: "Then I won't eat it anymore. We can go back to Red Lotus Hell - ehem, go back to Red Lotus Pavilion."

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes: "We?" There was a mockery in his eyes, and then said, "Who is the other person you're talking about? Disciples and their Shizun have respectable relationships and you will address me in the proper manner."

Mo Ran carefully kept his expression, his eyes curled up with a smile, well-behaved, sensible and cute.

However, in his heart he was thinking: Respectful relationship? Proper manner?

Hehe, if Chu Wanning could know what happened in his previous life, he would know - in the end, Mo Weiyu was the only one deserving of respect in the world.

No matter how noble and arrogant Chu Waning was, he was still a piece of mud under his boot. Didn't he depend on Mo Ran's good will to survive?

Stepping quickly to keep up with his shizun's pace, Mo Ran still had a bright smile on his face.

If Shi Mei was the white moonlight in his heart, Chu Wanning was the broken fishbone stuck in his throat. He needed crush this thorn or swallow it, and it will corrode away in his stomach.

In short, during this new life, he could spare whoever he wanted.

But he would never spare Chu Wanning.

However, Chu Wanning didn't seem to want to spare him so easily.

Mo Ran stood in front of the library in Red Lotus Hell, looking at fifty rows of ten-story bookshelves, thinking that he must have heard wrong.

"Shizun, what did you say. . .?"

Chu Wanning replied lightly: "Dust all the books in here."

". . ."

"After dusting, catalogue them."

"..."

"I will check back tomorrow morning."

"!!!"

What!!! Was he supposed to stay overnight in Red Lotus Hell??

But he had planned to meet with Shi Mei, and even asked Shimei to change his medicine at night!!!

He opened his mouth to plead his case, but Chu Wanning didn't bother paying attention to him. With a wave of his wide sleeves, and turned to exit the library, and, incidentally, closed the door of the library in a haughty manner.

Mo Ran, who's date had been ruined, sat in his boiling hatred of Chu Wanning - he wanted to burn all Chu Wanning's books!!

No!

After thinking it over, he thought of something even worse. . .

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #mo ran #chu wanning #2ha novel #2ha #2ha translation #ranwan

186 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Enforcers: Part 10 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

synopsis: reveal, don't conceal.

wc: 1.4k

tw: none

masterlist

"Come out one at a time with your hands up."

You stand idly by as the militia pulls people out of the SUVs; lingering behind Suguru as he watches the former members of the CSB kneel on the ground and be restrained with zip ties. When you see the familiar pink hair of Yuji Itadori, you start a little, eyes widening as he lays on the ground and is zip tied before being brought to his feet and made to kneel beside another comrade of his.

Of yours.

You can't see all of the faces, but the fact that Yuji made it out alive meant that he would try his best to get the others out alive. And that's enough for you.

A sea of about eighty people are kneeling on the cold floor of the aircraft hangar beside the main building, and every single one of them is restrained.

"Your entire organization has been burnt to the ground," Suguru begins. "And you come to me to get answers?" No one speaks. The implications of his words are enough to make everyone in the area gulp hard. "Why not ask your Grand Council?" Suguru wonders and chuckles from the guards echo around the room.

"We did," a voice - Nobara Kugisaki - calls out, and you raise onto the tips of your toes to try and see her. "but they sent us away without an answer."

"What about your leaders?"

Another silence.

"One of you tell me what truly happened. And be quick about it, my patience does not extend far."

"They sent..." Choso. "They sent in people we did not know to gun us down. We were all gathered in the Grand Hall, where we originally thought we would be informed about the next steps to take since we filed our grievances."

"And?"

"They told us to go to our barracks and wait for further instruction. The massacre started as soon as lights went out."

"It was so dark," someone cries out, sniffling. "They shot my partner before... before--" Various people begin to sob, and you grab Suguru's arm, looking over at the group sadly. Every single one of them had escaped from hell, and now they're here, looking to the both of you for help. Suguru peers over his shoulder at you, face set in a grim expression.

"Maybe we should give them some time before we ask them about everything," you whisper.

"The sooner we know as much as we can, the safer we'll be," he replies, turning back to the crowd in front of him. "All of those who work for us will be brought to the conference room. The rest of you will be given a good meal and put in temporary residences. You will be heavily guarded and watched. You will not be permitted to leave the Fallen Sun District until we have determined that everything is safe. Communication with your families that reside outside of the district will be cut off, and communication with the media will be punished. Guard set A, take those who are our agents. Guard set B, take the others away."

_____________________________________________________________

You sit beside Suguru in the conference room, arms crossed. You all look at the agents filing in, and Choso comes in as the last one - which isn't really a surprise - capping off the small crowd of ten double agents.

"I need details," Suguru states, and looks back at the person at the door, who nods and switches off the lights. A projector switches on, and an aerial map of the CSB headquarters comes on the whiteboard wall. "Where did the chaos begin? Where was Toji? Yuki? Gojo? And where are they now?"

"From the South Wing down to the Cafeteria, then the killers split up and took the East, North, and West Wing," someone mentions, and Suguru draws lines in accordance with the account.

"And the leaders of each faction?"

"Gojo disappeared long before the massacre began, but I know Toji orchestrated the attack," Choso answers.

"How?" you wonder, squinting your eyes. "And don't tell me you caught him talking about it in the open and said nothing."

"That's how it happened," Choso states grimly. "I'm the one who sent the email. I thought you would come and help us, Suguru." Suguru doesn't reply, staring at the aerial map and biting the inside of his cheek. "Those people died because you didn't come to help us. Do you know how many bodies I had to crawl over just to get to freedom? How many people had been shot down in their beds?"

"You know I know what that's like," Suguru replies tersely. "You know I know what it's like to have no fucking help."

"Then why? Why did you let us be slaughtered like animals, Suguru? Why couldn't you just do the right thing and come and help us? You put us in that mess! And you left us to die!" Choso stands up suddenly and produces a revolver from the inside of his coat, and points it at you. Guards instantly unholster their weapons and aim them at Choso, red lights pointed at his entire body.

"Don't shoot!" you cry out, hands up. "Don't shoot him!"

"Is it because of her?" Choso wonders, eyes empty and devoid of compassion. "Did she tell you to stay put?"

"Don't shoot!" you repeat, bullets of sweat running down your body inside of the vest. "Don't shoot."

"She told me to go and get you." Suguru finally answers, his own weapon pointed at Choso. "She wanted to save everyone's life."

"And why didn't you?" Choso whispers, gun still aimed at you.

"Because I didn't have time. And I didn't have the resources. You, out of everyone here, should know I would put my life on the line for my people when I can." Choso chokes out a sob, dropping the gun and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of tears. His piercing cries echo in the small room, and you rush to his side, holding him close to you. He sobs into your shoulder, whispering apologies and shaking furiously.

"Don't apologize," you whisper, rubbing his back slowly and methodically. "It's okay. You've been through a lot, and just need to rest."

_____________________________________________________________

"I'm going to the media to break the story," you mention, facing Suguru as he brushes his teeth.

"What?" he cries out, mouth full of white foam. "No. You're not going anywhere. Too risky."

"Send a guard with me, then."

"No." He spits into the sink, and you cross your arms, frowning. "I'm not giving you permission to do that. If Toji pops up, you're fucked. I'm not taking that chance."

"So you can't leak an interview with me? Like the ones we recovered from the Archives?" Suguru braces himself on the sink, hair falling down his face and shielding his expression from view.

"Babe," Suguru breathes, sighing and shaking his head. "It's possible."

"I'll tell my story. I'll leave you out of it."

"You can't tell your story without me," Suguru whispers, tying his hair back with the rubber band around his wrist. "Do you think we should get other stories corroborating ours?"

"Yes," you answer immediately. "A thousand times, yes." Suguru's onyx eyes drop to the sink, and you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his large frame. "Do you trust me?"

He places his hands on yours and nods slowly.

"I trust you," he murmurs. "And I love you."

"I love you, too."

Four hours later, you're sitting in front of a camera, eyes staring into the lens with the intensity of your mother and father's expressions in their own videos.

"Ready?" Suguru wonders, leaning over and touching your hand from behind the camera.

"Ready." He clicks the record button, and a red light begins to flash.

"My name is Y/n, and I am a former Kitsune. Over seven months ago, I began my career with the CSB, and since my time there, I have learned so much about their inner workings, their scandal coverups, and how they tried to end my life not too long ago." You swallow hard, tears coming to your eyes. But you inhale deeply, pushing the emotion down as far as it will go. "You may have heard that I was kidnapped by those who run the Fallen Sun district. But that is simply not true," you assert, shaking your head once. "Everything you know about the CSB is a lie."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru

43 notes · View notes

batfamscreaming · 3 years

Text

Winter Break in Kansas [80s AU] 1/2

Bruce bade goodbye to Tommy and Harvey without telling them anything of his own plans for the holiday break.

(....both of them looked gaunt. Holidays hadn’t even begun. They didn’t muster much enthusiasm for the goodbye, and Bruce didn’t make them.)

He didn’t put on the hat or scarf until they were a good distance out of the building, where the other two wouldn’t see, and bundled himself up unrecognizably as best he could.

Nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Clark slung his backpack over his shoulder and started down the stairs where they could get a cab to the bus stop.

“Have you ever been to Kansas before?”

Bruce shook his head.

“No,” he said, tugging out a few dollars from his pocket and shoving them towards Clark.

He’d pay.

Clark took them without argument after seeing how that worked during Halloween.

Into the cab they went.

“Don’t blame you. Nothin’ there.” He joked, and away they went.

A cab to the bus station.

Then the bus to Kansas.

It would be a day’s ride.

Bruce had packed books.

...they had agreed, even if silently and grudgingly, that they would just have to give up on their research for the duration of the break.

...on the up side, they would finally have a little time to read what they wanted to, at least.

He tugged out two crime thrillers, passing one to Clark, along with one of the lunches-to-go he’d bought at the cafeteria for the trip.

For the first hour or so, he sat up primly, despite his disguise.

And then, as the bus ride kept going…

He tugged his legs up under himself and curled up in the seat with his book, letting himself lean a little into Clark’s shoulder when the seat was cramped, finally looking content.

Clark let him lean into him as much as he wanted, especially considering the crampedness of the seats.

He read a little and ate some of their packed lunch, and then for a lot of the ride he dozed. Riding in a bus or car had that constant hum that drowned a lot out that was easy to focus on and sleep to. It was better than the erratic noise of the city, that was for sure.

As they went on, the bus taking occasional breaks at rest stops, the hills died down and things became increasingly flat.

And then, early the next morning, they pulled in to their stop.

“Here we are.” Clark mumbled, grabbing their bags from overhead and passing Bruce his as they climbed off.

...it was surreal.

Absolutely surreal.

For someone like Bruce who had grown up with always something blocking the horizon, the sheer flatness of the world around him left him feeling a little… disoriented.

Vulnerable, even.

But he kept the hat and scarf on, holding his bags and exhausted from the bumpy ride, and followed Clark closely as he climbed off the bus.

Clark barely had to even look around before he motioned for Bruce to follow, ducking around the other people climbing off the bus. He went right to an old station wagon with a man stood leaning on the hood, arms crossed to keep in the warmth and an old truckers cap on his head. When he saw them he stood and waved.

“Hey Pa.” Clark smiled, and hugged him as a woman with dirty blonde hair opened the door and stepped out of the passenger side.

“There’s my baby boy.” She cooed, already grabbing Clark and kissing his cheeks while he groaned and protested.

“You must be Bruce?” Jon said, extending a rough hand towards him. “You can call me Jon. Clark’s father.”

His face was sun scorned and wrinkled less from age and more from working outside every day of his life, his hair cut short and dark brown.

He had that feeling again. Like he was floating, somewhere else entirely, only partly aware of what was happening in front of him. Only sort-of involved.

It was a familiar one, even if school sometimes lessened it. Sometimes.

He was hoping it would leave if he left Gotham. But here it was. Right away. Watching Clark run to his mother or her run to him, and his dad, and hugging--

He took the father’s hand, shook it, and said, “Bruce Wayne,” in the voice that was bigger than he felt in his head.

“So Clark tells me. Quite the name back out East.” He said, giving Bruce a firm handshake.

When Martha was finished embarrassing her son she walked over to Bruce. “I'm Martha, now let's get you boys where it's warm.” She put an arm around Bruce and gestured for him to get into the back where Clark was already piling in.

Oh.

He felt dizzy. And tight. His jaw tightened the smile onto his face to keep it there, even as his heartbeat rocketed up, until it was pounding in his ears.

(Waking nightmare)

He stumbled forward over his own feet, but followed where the arm took him, same as he did when Alfred started trying to guide him away from paparazzi anytime they glimpsed him. Anytime they got an excuse.

He held his bag tight and piled in beside Clark, regretting every step that took him to this conclusion.

While his parents got back in Clark looked over at Bruce with concern. His heart was like a drum suddenly.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Bruce’s face had fallen into a brutal neutrality once the eyes weren’t on him anymore. Blank and stiff.

But he nodded faintly, lying.

“... Okay.” Clark said, not believing it at all, but not prying further.

“So is it just as cold out there as it is here?” His dad asked.

Typical banter.

Him. It was him. He was being talked to.

Talk.

“Haven’t been here long enough to say,” Bruce said, lost somewhere over the horizon with no buildings to stop him.

“It’s colder in Gotham.” Clark added as they started to move once everyone was buckled up.

“We’re pretty tired from the trip though. Is the guest room ready?”

“Oh yeah it’s all waiting for you. Will you two want breakfast or you gonna collapse into bed?” Martha asked.

“Bed,” Bruce managed, even though he knew he should’ve said more than that.

But in his head he was already at a family breakfast. Staring at them over a meal. Having to talk more before he could think or control his heart or breathe and actually feel it filling his lungs, not just faintly keeping him conscious by a thread.

“Yeah we’re beat.” Clark said, although he wasn’t very tired. This was mostly for Bruce’s sake.

“We’ll just get some rest and then we can have lunch and stuff, okay?”

“Okay, that sounds good. I still need to run out and grab a few things anyway.” Martha said, and with that the conversation would taper off and away from the boys.

Clark did pass a look over to Bruce though, just to check on him.

...gradually, Bruce’s heartbeat started to slow again as the conversation moved away, and he didn’t have to drag himself to pay attention to it. Didn’t live scared of the response he missed. He could just stare blankly forwards and hover for a while.

But that was it, too.

He just… hovered.

The usual awareness wasn’t in his eyes. And he knew it wasn’t there.

And the part of him that wasn’t in front, that wasn’t keeping them in society, breathing, not being kicked out of the car of the only people he knew for miles and miles--

That part of him was screaming. A sound not even Clark could hear.

Wake up. Pay attention. It’ll happen while you’re not paying attention. It’s going to go wrong. If you don’t pay attention everything will go wrong.

But he couldn’t drag himself to the front yet.

He couldn’t do it that fast.

They drive for awhile before turning into a tiny little town that was just starting to wake up, and then they even drove away from that and down long barren roads onto a long dirt driveway, the farmhouse soon coming into view.

“Home sweet home.” Jon said as he pulled up to a stop.

“We’re here, Bruce.” Clark said quietly, trying to get his attention so they could climb out of the car.

It helped. His name. Instruction.

He shuffled out of the car, pulling his backpack back on, and at the very least managed to glance at the small farmhouse and and and

(he counted exits)

Before following Clark inside, looking dazed.

Like he did definitely need the bed.

“I’ll show Bruce to his room, he’s pretty wiped.” Clark said, leading his friend up the steps and… maybe putting an arm around his shoulders to guide him a little better.

“It’s up the steps. C’mon.”

He made a small confirming sound at his name, and

Arm.

Followed the arm. Pressed into it.

(Tommy guided him like this, sometimes. Alfred did. Away from the worst of things. Back to the manor, or their room, or--)

He was lost in three places at once. The farmhouse here, and the manor, and the academy and coming out of the alleyway under a policeman’s coat.

But he could make it up the stairs, and be guided to the guest room, at the very least.

Clark got him up the steps, paused only for a moment to point at the bathroom. “Bathroom is here. And this is the guest room.”

He opened it up to reveal a very old, dated looking bed with an empty dresser and bedside table with a lamp. Floral comforter and frilled pillow cover.

“Sorry it’s… very grandma.” He huffed. “But, uh, you get comfortable. You want something to drink?”

Looked fine. Normal, even.

He shook his head.

“...how long?” he asked.

“... How long what?”

...fuck. The word. Didn’t she say lunch?

“Til lunch,” he said.

How long to recover.

“Oh, like, uh… you still got awhile. It’s only eight right now so four hours? Ish? And if you need to chill in here longer you can.” Clark said, looking at an old clock over the door.

Four hours sounded like both an eternity and no time at all.

Bruce set down his bag and nodded, not sure what to say.

Not sure how to ask to start.

Alone.

Rest.

Privacy.

Please.

“I'm gonna bring you something to drink and then you can sleep or whatever.” Clark said, turning away and heading downstairs.

He came back a moment later with a cup of warm tea.

“Here. Just yell if you need anything.”

And then he would leave Bruce to recover.

“Okay. Thanks,” he said, letting the hot tea sit.

...he held it in his hands.

….the heat helped.

He could smell it.

...once he was alone, he closed his eyes and sat on the floor, holding the cup between his hands and just… breathing it in deeply.

He took a drink. Followed the heat as it traveled down his throat.

….

It was sort of like Alfred’s tea.

Two places, now. Only lost in two. That was manageable.

A little more color came back to him. He finished the tea. The cup cooled and it didn’t help anymore. But he was a little better.

...he didn’t have the energy to do much, though.

So he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the unfamiliar bed, biting down on his hand as hard as he could, and once all he could think about was his hand, he closed his eyes on the pillow and let go.

And he would go to sleep.

And in four hours, he would be fine again.

In four hours or so, Clark would knock on his door.

“Bruce? You awake? We're gonna have some lunch now.”

There was a jump in heartrate as Bruce jerked awake, but he still understood well enough what had been said to him.

“Y-yeah-- just let me get to the bathroom.”

“Okay, just come down to the kitchen when you're ready.” Clark said, leaving him be. His footsteps could be heard going down the stairs.

...Bruce waited until the footsteps were down the stairs and a little fainter before crawling out of bed.

His clothing was wrinkled from sleeping in it.

He grabbed a new shirt and set of pants, and folded the two he’d been wearing on the bus. Grabbed his comb.

Bathroom.

He washed his face and combed his hair back, the way he always wore it, unless he ended up shoved under a John Deere hat. Made sure his shirt was flat and his clothing straight. Tied his shoes back on.

He hurried down the stairs.

This time, he was Braced for It.

Now that he was more aware of his surroundings he could take in the details.

Worn furniture. Warm. Lived in. Family pictures on the mantle over the TV that was playing The Price Is Right. Noises from the kitchen.

Clark and Martha were there, Clark over a bowl of soup and Martha watching the TV from her position in front of the stove.

“Well don't you look nice.” she grinned. “You hungry?”

Maybe ironically, Bruce wasn’t used to being complimented on his appearance.

Maybe because he grew up with Alfred, and he was wearing the bare minimum to please Alfred.

“Thanks,” he said, voice a little steadier than it had been that morning. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You like chicken corn soup?” She asked.

Clark was eating the same thing that was on the stove in a large pot; a homemade soup with bits of chicken, corn, and other things to make a hearty, white soup.

Without being asked Clark got up and started to get Bruce something to drink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” he said honestly, watching Clark out of the corner of his eye.

“Well if you don't like it you don't have to eat it, okay?” Martha said, getting out a bowl and filling it with soup. She set it down in front of him with a spoon.

“We got tea, milk, or OJ.” Clark said, looking over at Bruce.

“Thank you,” he said again, sitting where she set it, and glanced back at Clark. “Tea?”

“...oh. I forgot the cup upstairs--”

“That's okay, just bring it down later.” Martha said.

“This is iced tea, but if you want more hot tea I can make that too.” Clark said, pulling out the jug to show Bruce.

Bruce blinked blankly at him, as if just confronted with something he had no idea about.

“Iced tea?”

The two looked at each other like Bruce was the alien.

Clark poured him a glass of iced tea and set it in front of him.

“Wondered why I didn't see it anywhere at school.”

Bruce looked down at the cup like it was a challenge.

“...”

He kept eye contact with Clark as he sipped it.

It didn't taste anything like hot tea. It was sweet with a tiny hint of lemon.

Clark stared him right back.

“... Well?”

…

Bruce stared down at it.

“...I think I felt one of Alfred’s ancestors disown me just now,” he said, and took another sip.

Clark laughed, “But do you like it?”

Bruce nodded.

“It’s good.”

It was a little like a flat soda, almost?

“Good.” Clark grinned and sat back down to finish eating. Martha looked to be scooping the soup that was left over into freezing containers and labeling them.

“You gonna give Bruce a tour of the farm when you're done?”

Clark looked over at him, “You want one?”

“Sure?” Bruce said, “Whatever the plan is.”

He had no idea if there even was a plan. He’d focused so hard on getting here he wasn’t really sure what to do otherwise.

Even Clark had admitted there wasn’t much to do besides bowling.

So his only plan right now was to run with manners and hope it got him somewhere.

He ate the soup and drank the tea, not finding it quite his taste, but eating and finishing it all the same.

Clark didn't really have a plan either. He had just heard his friend had what sounded like a really lonely holiday and invited him along.

So they finished their soup and set the dishes in the sink before bundling up to take the tour.

“You ever been on a farm?” He asked while walking down the front steps. The third one creaked.

He followed Clark’s lead. Ran upstairs to bring down the cup and wrap his own scarf (thick and dark) around his neck as they headed out.

“Gardens don’t count?” he asked rhetorically. “Then no.”

Clark chuckled, “No. Gardens don’t count.”

A man was pulled up in their driveway in a tractor with a plow hooked to the front talking to his dad, and Clark waved but didn’t go over. Instead he lead Bruce towards the barn.

“All the corn is down now since it’s winter, but we still got the cows I can show ya.”

Bruce nodded, following along behind him.

“Okay?”

He’d never seen a cow before.

...the sight and smell of them stopped him dead.

“...that’s huge.”

“How big did you think cows were, Bruce?” Clark laughed, closing the barn door behind them.

The cows were in their stalls for the winter, some laying down to sleep while others had their heads stuck through the bars to feed from their trough.

It did smell pretty bad, but Clark didn’t seem to mind. He walked over to one and pet between its eyes.

Bruce honestly didn’t know how the cows stood the smell.

...he followed up behind Clark, watching him pet the cow, though his curiosity was focused a bit more on the petter than the pet-ee.

“They’re nice once you know how to act around them.” Clark said, looking at Bruce. “Just, y’know, gotta be aware they can break your foot. Here-” He reached out to take the other boy’s hand and place it gently on the cow’s head where he had been petting it.

The fur was course almost. Rough. Not really soft but not really wiry either.

Bruce was honestly not even really thinking about petting the cows--

...but Clark’s hand was warm, and it startled him into complacency, hand being pulled out of his pocket like that and held, even just for a moment.

…

The fur was coarse. But she was warm. The cow. And even though the fur was coarse, the skin under it was soft as Clark’s hand on top of his.

… “Wow,” he said, knowing he had to say something.

“See? They’re nice.” Clark said, oblivious to what was going on in Bruce’s head right now.

“C’mon.” He said, leading him out of the barn and towards the backyard.

“That’s our own little garden even though it’s just a patch of frozen mud right now. We grow tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries, tons of stuff. Mom makes jam. I’ll have her give you a jar to take back if you want. It’s really good.”

He lead him into a smaller barn after that. It had a four-wheeler and a few tractors inside.

“This is where we keep some of the equipment.”

Bruce followed Clark around the farm, feeling a little dumb and dumbfounded, and not sure what to feel the rest of the time. The farm life was… very different from the world he knew. And he respected it, he was pretty sure--but he didn’t really know much about it.

So he followed politely, looking around.

He pretty readily agreed to the jam.

“Alfred will like it,” he said.

“Cool. Y’know you gotta show me around your mansion or whatever sometime.”

A dog barked and soon a dog with black and white splotches was running up to them.

“Oh, and that’s Daisy.”

She tried to jump up at Bruce in excitement, tag wagging.

“Woah--” Bruce took a step back as Daisy jumped up at him, but--

...it was a dog.

Bruce bent down a moment later and was scratching her behind the ears.

Daisy put on that ‘thats the spot’ face and leaned into it, grumbling happily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked, do you have any pets?”

Bruce… made a bit of a face. And shook his head.

“No. Not anymore.”

...he was content to keep scratching the dog behind the ear as long as she’d lean in.

Clark stood and just sort’ve… watched him for a moment.

It was nice to see him content like this. Away from pressure.

“You feeling better than you were earlier?” He asked, as though he somehow knew.

…

“Yeah. ...sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

He’d bite it back as often as he had to.

“It’s okay, dude.” Clark shrugged. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re around me. It happens.”

Bruce just… focused on the dog.

Clicked his fingers at her.

“I am fine, though,” he said, not even fooling himself. “...you didn’t tell me that’s what your mom’s name was.”

… It took him a moment. He looked confused, then his eyes went big.

“Oh. Oh, damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it.” He looked ashamed and ran a hand through the curls in his hair.

Bruce shook his head, not… looking at him, for that. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t have to.”

He should’ve been able to handle this on his own. It had been years. (six years.) He should be fine.

But his throat was dry, even after draining the whole glass of ice tea, and his fingers were getting cold, even in the warmth of Daisy’s fur.

Why was he still talking?

“Dad didn’t die first,” he said. “He kept calling her name.”

Daisy tried to lick his face, tail wagging.

“... I’m sorry, Bruce.” Clark said quietly. “Must be hard.”

He had never lost someone before.

He didn’t know how it felt.

He’d said it wouldn’t happen again, but he felt that creeping chill on the edge of his consciousness, threatening to drag him out of Smallville again. It wasn’t there yet. It hadn’t yanked him in violently like back at the bus station. But he could feel the prickle of it; the threat.

He sat down crosslegged in the field, and let the dog lick him.

When she stopped he just… shook his head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” ‘it must be hard’ wasn’t… something he was used to hearing. “I’ve got money and Alfred to take care of me. I’m fine.”

Clark sat down with him on the cold, frozen dirt.

“Yeah but that’s just money and Alfred ain’t your dad. You might have what you need but not what you want. ‘N money can’t buy that.”

“So, like… are you fine?”

He looked over at him and tried to meet his eyes with his own bright blue gaze that somehow stood out even more than Bruce’s. The sun was high in the sky and there weren’t as many clouds to hide him like their were in Gotham, and you could see how much his skin almost glowed in the sunlight.

That wasn’t what people were supposed to say, and the urge to argue Kent down made a thousand things meant to be kept secret bubble up on his tongue.

But he swallowed them down.

...he seemed much smaller out here, under the big, clear sky. In Gotham, in its narrow streets and foggy skies, he stretched up and could fill a room. Here he was just a small, lost shadow: dark clothes, pale skin.

And when Clark tried to meet his eyes, they were glazed wet, and in the process of being blinked away, even as Bruce’s voice said, steadily, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

…

“When I’m eighteen,” he said, guiding Daisy down to lie in his lap for a belly rub, “I inherit everything they left behind. And I’m going to take it and run away, until not even you’d be able to find me.”

Daisy rolled into him and was very happy for the belly rub.

“... Why?” Clark asked, sounding sad. “Just to get away?”

...at least someone understood.

Bruce nodded.

Clark nodded too.

…

“Where you gonna go?”

Bruce shrugged.

He didn't know. He didn't care much.

“Okay.”

…

“Well-” Clark nudged him a little. “-I’d like it if ya kept in touch at least a little.”

He gave him an award-winning smile.

...Bruce found himself looking at that smile, and… it was hard not to feel some guilt.

“We’ll see,” he compromised.

Clark went quiet and just sat with him then.

…

After a few minutes though he blinked and stood up, looking down at his driveway.

Bruce looked up.

Glanced down the driveway. Saw nothing.

But he looked back up at Clark without any doubt. “What do you see?”

“It’s Pete ‘n Kenny.” Clark said just as you could start to hear the car. He offered a hand down to help Bruce to his feet.

“Friends of mine. Guess mom told ‘em I was coming home.”

Bruce didn't need the help, but he took the hand anyway, pushing Daisy off his lap carefully as he went.

“Yeah…?”

He was a little anxious about meeting Clark’s friends.

He was bad with people. And caring about Clark made things suddenly infinitely more complicated if he failed to make a good impression.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about ‘em, they’re good people.”

Clark lead him over to the car as it slid to a stop, two boys sat in the front.

“You’re back!” The passenger shouted.

“Yeah, for winter break.” Clark said, then gestured to them. “Kenny, Pete. Pete, Kenny, this is Bruce. Friend of mine from school.”

“Yo.” Kenny waved from the driver’s seat, Pete from the passenger’s side.

Bruce waved back with a “nice to meet you,” and hung back, not willing to overstep. He was already looking at Pete and Kenny’s haircuts and their clothes, and starting to get an idea how Clark must've felt, standing out in school.

They dressed a lot like Clark did. Layers. Worn clothes. Mud around the ankles and hand-me-down jackets.

“Get in, both of ya, we’re heading down to the tracks.” Kenny said, pointing to the back seat.

“Uh.” Clark looked at Bruce. “You cool with tagging along?”

He looked hopeful.

Bruce shrugged and--well. He had no reason not to?

“Sure.”

He climbed into the back with Clark.

“Nice.” Pete grinned, and once they were in, Kenny started to back up and turn around to head out.

…

At first they didn’t really talk to Bruce. They just filled Clark in on all the town gossip. Who was boning who, who was getting knocked up, who had fallen out or gotten in trouble.

But soon that did come around as they pulled into a gravel spot by some train tracks. Pete leaned back and looked at Bruce. “He tell ya why he ran off to Gotham?”

Clark might’ve gone a little pale. “Pete.”

“Said he was layin’ low,” Bruce said, picking up Pete’s accent a little bit from being surrounded by it for a little. He crossed his arms on the seat in front of him and leaned forward, asking for more without saying anything.

“I’ll kill you, Pete.” Clark warned.

“Yeah. Layin’ low after blastin’ a guys arms off with his eyes.” Pete grinned.

Clark threatened to climb over the seat and smack him, and Pete just kept laughing.

“Pete you fuckin’ dumbass, you know he can actually kill you, right?” Kenny huffed.

Bruce just… looked sort of confused for a bit at that.

What did that mean? If it was an in-joke would Clark be that upset, but if it was leaning closer to real, what did that even mean?

He knew Clark… was different.

But he didn't realize he hadn't seen half of it yet.

“...what?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Kenny said, a little surprised.

Clark stopped smacking Pete, who was laughing his ass off. “Kenny! What do you think laying low means?!”

“Well I mean, c’mon man, you brought him here. Damn near everyone knows you’re an alien.” Kenny said, unintimidated.

Clark just… slumped back into the seat, as far away from everyone as possible, and shoved his face in his hands.

…

You know what?

Bruce was going to unpack all of this later.

Right now, all he could do was turn, look Clark dead in the eye, and say, “suddenly I understand why you had such a hard time with ‘snitches get stitches’ with friends like these.”

Clark was rubbing his eyes. “God.”

“Ah c’mon Clark. We gotta embarrass our buddy in front of his new friend.” Pete grinned.

Clark glared at him. “You’re honestly lucky I trust Bruce not to say anything. You know how much shit I could get in if everyone in Gotham knew? Area 51??” He gestured wildly to himself.

“If it makes you feel better people are starting to say those three were just tripping on something and imagined the whole thing.” Kenny said.

Bruce was still just… running with this. As it happened.

Unpack later. Survive right now.

(From his position, he could get an arm around Kenny’s neck and choke him as payback for Clark’s trust being violated)

(There was a red mark against Kenny from this, against Pete. Snitches get stitches. Silence was golden. Loose lips sank ships.

Trust no one.)

(‘You’re honestly lucky I trust Bruce not to say anything.’ When-- when had that-- when had he earned that?)

“What did happen?” Bruce asked instead.

He was ten places in his head, and lost in none of them.

They all looked at Clark.

…

Clark sighed and rubbed his head.

“Some assholes shot up the gas station last year. Killed like five people. I knew where he’d gone, I could hear the yelling, so I tracked them down. One guy shot me in the face with a revolver. I tossed him through the front of the house. Next guy shot me in the chest with a shotgun. I ended up burning his arms off. Then Pete came around and ended up clocking the last one with a shovel.”

He said it all so… numbly. Like he had unpacked in awhile ago and could now just… recite it.

“They lived?” he said, deciding not to question the… burning. The being followed. The shotgun.

“... Yeah.” Clark said quietly.

Bruce had gone back to his Gotham accent. His voice had been falling into his harder, more serious tone.

Pete and Kenny called this story embarrassing to Clark.

“But you did it?”

Kenny and Pete were looking at one another, watching this unfold after they had set it into motion.

“... Yeah?” Clark said again. “I can do… a lot of weird shit.”

Maybe the new fragile city kid going hard and cold wasn't what they'd expected when they started talking about small town maiming.

“Yeah, no shit, you beat my mile,” Bruce said. “...but you burnt their arms off.”

…he waited for one more confirmation, looking Clark in the eye just as Clark had done with him half an hour earlier.

But once he got it--even just a flash of a ‘yes’ in a look between them, Bruce said, “Good.”

And Clark did say ‘yes’.

But then he looked confused.

“Good?”

That was the first time anyone had said that.

And Bruce said it again.

Firmer.

“Good.”

Clark blinked and stared at him, like a whole other option had opened up to him.

…

“Damn,” Kenny said. “Hardass Gotham.”

Kenny still had a mark against him, and he wasn't helping himself, so Bruce didn't feel bad when he turned the full weight of a glare on him.

Maybe his eyes couldn't ‘burn off’ anyone’s arms, but that just meant that his blue eyes were cold and hard as ice.

“They shot five people? They deserve what's coming to them.”

… Kenny backed up and put his hands up. “Not sayin’ they didn’t.”

“Yeah, no one is saying that.” Pete added. “I mean, if he hadn’t showed up then they were gonna kill like their whole family.”

Clark still didn’t say anything. He was looking down, like he had never been told that what he had done was good. Not really. Whenever they had mentioned how he had done well it was also interlaced with ‘but what could have happened to you’.

They were going to kill their whole family.

They were going to kill their whole family?

That part hadn't been said. Just: Clark tracked them down. Clark fought them. Clark got shot.

Clark lived.

(They were going to kill a family, and Bruce, already mentally exhausted from the morning, from bracing himself against names, from coping, found himself seeing it happen in an alleyway unlike anything he'd seen in Smallville, and he was so tired of spending the day in that place.)

“Cool. Cool, so… fuck this,” he said, and turned to Clark, seeing him spaced out. “Hey. Kent. Snap out of it. You said you guys got out more than us, right? Time to prove it.”

Find somewhere else to go.

Somewhere to lose this conversation entirely, before they got lost in it.

“Uhhhh fine.” Clark groaned and sat up. “Let’s go.”

Pete put the car in reverse. “Where to?”

“... Bowling?” Clark shrugged and looked at Bruce.

“I'll pay,” Bruce said, fine with that.

“See you throw every single ball down the gutter again.”

“You were last!” Clark pointed out.

“Yeah. I have nothing to prove,” he said, straight faced.

“But I might try harder out of revenge now that I know I wasn't wrong about my mile.”

“I was gonna apologize but I thought that would be saying too much!” Clark pleaded with him.

“They makin’ you take gym, Clark?” Kenny asked as they drove.

“Yes.”

“Oof.”

Bruce-- Bruce wasn't angry at Clark for it, not really. He'd been the one playing mediator at the time. Half of him just… needed something to keep going. To be huffy about--something that didn't matter--so he wouldn't be huffy about things that did.

“Tommy and Harv aren't gonna say anything even if they’ve figured something out,” he said, finally leaning back some and trying to uncoil the tight knot in his shoulders. “I told them not to that day.”

And no matter how loud Tommy was, no matter how much the teachers liked Harvey-- at the end of the day, Bruce was the one in charge. He didn't say much, but when he told them to not pry or talk, neither of the other boys would.

That weight didn't transfer to Kansas well, but after that conversation-- it lingered on him, some, in the back of the car, in his nice dark clothes, and the cold exhaustion in his eyes.

“They've been letting him skip for asthma, but running a four minute mile blew that out of the water some.”

“... Thanks.” Clark said, looking over at him.

“Guess since no one is in on it over there things are kinda hard.” Pete said.

“You have no idea.” Clark mumbled.

…

“This is kinda a relief. You knowing now.”

...he relaxed a little more.

“...I'm gonna be processing this for a while still,” he said. “...but I guess it at least makes sense now why you didn't think I was insane about the Talons being real.”

….somehow, the thought that Clark hadn't just been humoring him the last few months took precedence.

Clark huffed a laugh.

“Talons?” One in the front asked.

“Nah we’re not talking about that shit with you two.” Clark said firmly.

No way.

…

Bruce found himself smiling a little.

Mentioning it had been a kind-of permission, but… he was glad it wasn't taken.

Clark kept their secrets.

“So,” he leaned forward onto the front chair again. “Clark said something about corn demons?”

“What?” Kenny said.

“What?” Clark said too, then paused. “Oh, there's uh, that hell gateway over in Stull I think I mentioned.” Clark said.

“Eh, people just like to bullshit about angry ghosts that come out around Halloween.” Pete said.

“Our murder rate just spikes on Halloween,” Bruce said. “Why’s it a hell gateway?”

Said the Jewish boy.

“I have no idea.” Clark admitted.

“Isn't Gotham like one of the biggest crime places in the US?” Pete asked.

“Recently, yeah,” Bruce said, keeping it steady.

“What's it like there?” Pete asked.

“Ever been stabbed?” Kenny followed.

“Jesus, guys.” Clark sighed.

“I would probably not be walking around so great if I'd been stabbed,” Bruce said flatly, thinking of the caning in school, and the dread Tommy and Harv had of going home, and grisly pictures on the front page.

“You two sound like you watch way too much tv.”

“They do.” Clark said flatly.

They pulled into the bowling alley.

It was… very empty. The inside only had two people in staff with the radio playing and an arcade tucked in the corner.

“Same show that told you we were supposed to be out partying when we just snuck out for ice cream?”

Bruce pulled out a handful of bills and handed them to Clark mostly out of habit.

He could probably actually… buy things here without being recognized, maybe. But habit still won this round.

Clark didn't mind, walking up and paying. “Absolutely.”

“Snuck out for ice cream?”

“Didn't think you could get any lamer, Clark.” Kenny chuckled.

...it did make him think, though. A connection he hadn't been able to make, but that he'd made sure to hold onto the pieces, just in case.

“...what they said earlier doesn't happen to have anything to with how easy scaling the wall was for you, right?”

Clark waited until they were away from other prying ears to answer.

“Um, yeah. I might've been kinda… flying. For that.”

Bruce turned and stared at him again.

“What?” He whispered back.

Clark cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “I can fly.”

Bruce is going to need a long time to work through all this.

But right now, he's compartmentalizing like a pro.

“...what else can you do?”

“Uh,” Clark mumbled as he tied his bowling shoes. “I can see through things. Like x-ray vision? And can hear really far. Like--”

He looked up and his eyes glowed blue. “I can see one of the employees back behind the counter picking his nose. And he's humming that really annoying country song that won't stop playing on the radio.”

There was something in that which nagged Bruce. Being watched without being able to tell. Being heard. But--

But he had something to soothe it, a little bit. And confirm.

“I can hear the humming, too,” he said.

Not as a challenge.

But.

He believed Clark.

This was something most people couldn't hear.

And if he could hear that, Bruce would also believe the sight.

Clark looked a little surprised, happy even.

“Really?” He smiled a little, like he suddenly felt less alone.

“And, uh, I try hard to not listen in on private conversations and stuff if it makes you feel better. I don't want to hear everything. It just happens. I have to focus to pay attention to what close.”

...the apology was fine, but the second part still kept him a little on guard.

“Like the teachers meeting with students after class,” he said, and trying to not think of how close some private discussions had been to Clark. “...how far away?”

Clark made a face as though the answer pained him.

“Miles. Like… three miles? More if I focus.”

...not even Bruce’s razor hearing did that.

He felt the knot in his chest tighten almost imperceptibly.

“...but you don't.”

“No. I try to ground myself and focus on what's next to me.” He got up to get a bowling ball. Picked out the heaviest one and twirled it in his hands idly like it didn't weigh a thing.

“I try to keep it to like… a few rooms away sort of hearing. That's the smallest I can get without having to strain myself.”

A few rooms away.

(Kisses don't make sounds, Bruce told himself, but all the same, felt his heart speed up a bit at the memory.)

“A few rooms clearly?” he said, watching how Clark spun the bowling ball as if it were just a basket ball, meant to be tossed around in the air.

He picked up his own ball to wait his turn. It was lighter. But it was still heavy in his lap.

Clark made a face again. Guilty.

“I… I can hear your heartbeat through walls, so. Yeah. Clearly.”

He looked at Bruce, apologetic.

“I'm-- I'm sorry.”

...that.

That was… too much.

He could only hear his own heartbeat in his ears and thundering in his chest, and it was too much for him.

But he couldn't have this conversation here.

He couldn't have it anywhere, maybe.

He couldn't think too hard on that, on his very heartbeat always being listened to, on the illusion of privacy, and the thought of--

He picked up his bowling ball, numb and dead to the world, and with no distractions and a mechanicalness to his movements, he rolled a strike.

They weren't talking about this anymore.

… Clark looked down, not saying a word as Kenny and Pete 'oooed’ over the strike and wrote it down.

They wouldn't bring it up again, talking about random things and trying to nudge Clark back into the conversation. But he didn't say much. He just… rolled his ball a little too fast a little too hard until he got the hang of it again.

And when it was over, no matter who won, they would drive the two back out to the farm.

Bruce kept up what amounted to polite conversation if he was pulled in.

He didn't remember who won.

He didn't remember what they said, or if he shook anyone’s hands as they dropped them off back at the Kent farm.

He wasn't as cold and detached as he'd been that morning, but he knew he was wading further from shore, and that he should pull himself back.

But he didn't want to do that around Clark right now.

Hot tea wouldn't pull back this.

When they pulled back into the farm Clark hung back at the car, if only for a minute.

…

“Thanks assholes, now he hates me.” He hissed and slammed the door a little too hard. It rocked the car and they yelled, but he didn't care.

He walked in behind Bruce and tried to tell his parents yes, they had fun, went bowling, tired now.

Up to his room.

….

Bruce followed.

Up to his room. Guest room. It wasn’t lavish or high quality, but it smelled a little dusty, like the manor, and he could choke on that a little and feel a bit better in the familiar prison of old and carefully preserved items.

‘Granny’ Clark had called it.

(Bruce’s grandparents had died by the time he was born. Parents married late by parents who married late by parents who married late.)

…

He managed to sit on the bed for a full five minutes, hands held carefully in each other and breathing slowly, heart steadying, before he locked it in place.

And he left the room, footsteps quiet as he could make them on the carpet, and went back downstairs.

#aka bruce dissociates in kansas #if i hear a single martha joke i snipe on sight #batman #superman #superbat #80s gay superbat #rp logs #the total visit is like 70 pages lol

44 notes · View notes

nothingbutimagines · 3 years

Text

Frenemies (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing

Summary: Peter and Y/n are friends...kinda. Peter thinks they’re friends, even though Y/n picks on him and they’re constantly bickering or competing for the top spot in their classes. Peter thinks they’re friends while Y/n sees them more as frenemies, but the two are confronted with their feelings towards one another when they get roped into playing Romeo and Juliet in the school play.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: Just a little something I whipped up while procrastinating on my finals. Senior year is too hard, ugh. Just a heads up, starting Dec 13th, tomorrow, I will be starting 12 Days of Ficmas with another Peter fic, so keep your eyes peeled!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Any volunteers to act out the next scene?” Your Drama teacher, Ms. Newman, asked the class, a bright smile on her face as hands flew into the air. “Everyone has to read at least once, since we’re using this class to decide on who will be Romeo and who will be Juliet.”

You rolled your eyes, resting your chin in your hand as you watched other students wave their hands around wildly.

Of course everyone wanted to act out the next scene, one of the most romantic scenes of the play, you thought to yourself. While everyone either loved or hated Romeo and Juliet, you found yourself indifferent to it all. You liked the play just fine, but you wouldn’t say you loved it nor would you say you hated it. It was all just okay in your mind and you sure as hell didn’t want to be Juliet, or be in the play at all.

Unlike everyone who had their hands up, waving them like mad, you didn’t quite care for romance if you were going to be honest. Perhaps it was that you’d never connected with someone in such a way that caused you to like it or you just hadn’t found the perfect Nicholas Sparks movie to cry to, but you hated romance, almost dreading it.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see an extended finger pointing right at her and a smile on Ms. Newman’s face.

“Come on up, dear. You can read for Juliet and Peter here can read for Romeo.” She waved you up onto the stage, directing you onto a higher platform to read.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Peter mumbled from beneath you.

You bent down to his level, a hand on his shoulder as you gazed into his eyes.

“You can do this. And you know you can trust me. Because I don’t care enough about you to lie.”

Peter rolled his eyes as you straightened back up.

“Gee, thanks. I totally feel better now.”

“You’re welcome. I’m a very helpful person.” You chuckled, turning your attention back to Ms. Newman.

“Alright, Peter, you are Romeo, talking about Juliet and unbeknownst to you, she is right up there on the balcony, speaking about you. Y/n, stand up straight and give us your best performance, don’t look so down. Now, ready, set, action!”

You looked over at Peter, who gave you a small smile before breaking eye contact to look down at his script, his brown hair falling in his face before looking back up at you again.

You could barely act as it is, and looking at the brown haired boy looking at you, you sure as hell couldn’t act like you were in love with Peter Parker, the kid you couldn’t help but tease and pick on even though you were kind of friends and kind of enemies with.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!

It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.

Oh, that she knew she were!” Peter spoke, acting as if his life depended on it, his eyes gazing into yours.

You bit your lip, unsure of what the sudden warmth in your chest and cheeks was from as you watched him gesture to you, speaking boldly like the character he was pretending to be.

You looked away, breaking the eye contact for a moment to look into the small group of students in the class, your breathing slow as the warmth dissipated and you brought a hand to your cheek.

“... Her eye in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!”

You brought your hand from your cheek to your heart. “Ay, me!”

Peter glanced up at you once more, before turning to the group.

“She speaks.

O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

As is a wingèd messenger of heaven

Unto the white, upturnèd, wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy standing not that far below you, the way he gave you a funny look as he turned back to you and the way he so seriously taking his part. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind, what had him acting his little heart out.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” You cried out, mustering up as much passion as you could, realizing halfway through your lines you had more than you thought.

“Cut, cut!” Ms. Newman cried out, waving her arms at you. “I think we’ve heard enough from you two, let’s let someone else have a chance at this scene. Rebecca, Trevor, why don’t you two go next?”

You hopped down from the platform you had been standing on and followed Peter off of the small stage, taking a seat beside him.

“Good job.” He nodded to you, a shy smile on his lips.

“Oh, uh, thanks. You weren’t so bad either.”

“Not so bad? You think I’m a shitty actor, Y/n?” Peter teased, giving you a slight nudge.

“I didn’t say that,” you rolled your eyes, “I just didn’t realize you had such passion and gusto. it was very impressive.”

“Yeah, well that was all me since your pep talk wasn’t much help.”

“I’d like to think it was pretty good. Very honest. Honesty is what makes pep talks great.”

“Isn’t the point of a pep talk to lie to a person so they can do something they think they can’t?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Well, duh, but you could do it so I didn’t have to lie. It was a kinda anti-pep talk.”

“You’re kinda anti-everything aren’t you?”

“I like to think of myself less as ‘anti-everything’ and more of a rebel outcast.”

“You’re the co-captain of the cheer squad.” Peter replied very matter-of-factly as you fell silent, leaving him without a response. “You hear that?”

“Oh, I hear you.” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest, “I wish I didn’t.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but shut it as Ms. Newman began talking.

“Alright, class! We are at the end of time, so I will announce who I have picked as our leading man and lady. Can I get a drum roll, please?”

The class erupted in hands rapping and drumming on tables and legs as you crossed your fingers, eyes shut.

“Please, don’t let it be me. Please, don’t let it be me.” You mumbled to yourself as the noise began to dial down.

“Romeo will be played by Peter Parker-”

“Yes!” Peter gasped, punching the air beside you.

“-and Juliet will be played by Y/n L/n.”

“Fuck!” You hissed softly, groaning as you put a hand to your face.

“Thank you all for your time today, the rest of the roles ad castings will be on the board if you’d like to look at them, otherwise, have a great lunch! We will be leaving the theater open for you to go over your lines and learn them together.”

You gripped your bag as you stood up, slinging one strap over your shoulder as you made your way out of the classroom, Peter trailing close behind.

“Holy shit, Y/n! Can you believe it? We got the lead roles!”

“Oh, goody!” You gasped, mocking his happy demeanor as he made it beside you.

“You know, you’d be a better actress if you could at least act excited about this.”

"Ugh, sometimes I can’t stand you.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Peter chuckled as you gave him a playful push, pushing you back while you both entered the cafeteria.

You couldn’t stand him sometimes, but there were moments, mostly when you thought he had a sense of humor and you could laugh together, that you thought Peter Parker wasn’t so bad. Sure, he was a know-it-all and a goody two shoes, but he wasn’t that bad once you got to know him, even if he was annoying at times.

Peter handed you a lunch tray as you both scurried into the lunch line, knocking your trays together as you picked out your lunches.

“Do you ever wonder how we’re friends?” Peter asked after moments of silence.

It was as if he read your mind. You handed the lunch lady the change for your lunch and guided Peter to your usual table with Ned and MJ.

You shrugged. “Nah, I don’t really like to question myself on the things I do. Act, don’t think. It’s better that way.”

You took a seat beside MJ on one side of the table as Peter took a seat besides Ned.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked, looking over at you with a concerned look on her face.

“Why? Did that pimple I popped this morning not go away?”

MJ shook her head. “No, not that. You look flushed.”

“Y/n and I just found out we’re gonna be Romeo and Juliet for the spring play.” Peter stated simply, taking a bit out of his pizza.

MJ burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.

“Oh, my god, that’s a great joke, Parker. A fucking riot.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not kidding.”

“No, you’ve got to be joking, Y/n would never agree to that.”

“Uh, actually...” You cut in.

“Holy shit, you’re not kidding.” MJ’s smile fell slightly as she looked at you, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out of your chair. “Y/n, I have to go to the bathroom, come with me.”

“Oh, okay.” You agreed awkwardly, allowing her to begin dragging you from the table.

“That was weird.” Peter stated as you followed MJ out of the cafeteria.

“Agreed.” Ned muttered, watching MJ and you interact from the doorway.

“Why the hell would you agree to being in the spring play?” MJ questioned, her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced back into the open doorway of the cafeteria.

You groaned. “Ugh, I-I really don’t know! I panicked! Newman announced it and I just accepted my fate.”

“Did you accept your fate or play along with the fact that you get to be up close and personal with Peter?”

“Don’t you dare insinuate the fact that I-”

“That you what? Have feelings for Peter?” MJ asked, giving you a smirk as you felt the same warmth in your cheeks as you had in class. “You act like I don’t know you, that we haven’t been friends since first grade. I know when you like a boy.”

“I don’t like Peter. He annoys me to death. Quite frankly, he sucks.”

“Tell that to the blush on your face.”

“You bitch.”

MJ shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me for telling the truth.”

You tore your gaze away from her and looked into the doorway to the cafeteria, your attention now on Peter and Ned as you could see them talking to one another before Peter looked away and over at you, your eyes making contact. You quickly looked away, turning your attention back at MJ.

“What do you think I should do?”

__________________

You walked down the hallway towards the theater, slipping past students as you made your way through the crowd, gripping your backpack tightly. You ran through the little plan MJ and you had concocted, repeating affirmations to yourself as you approached the door.

After admitting that you didn’t hate Peter as much as you led on, MJ walked you through the plan she had been secretly putting together the moment she had figured out you had feelings for Peter.

The plan, as MJ illustrated, was simple. You told Peter how you felt.

You went through about one hundred different ways to tell Peter how you felt, each one making you sick to your stomach with anxiety.

As you entered the theater, you could feel that anxiety bubble up with every step and every thought as you got closer and closer to where Peter had decided to set himself up on the stage.

“Hey.” Peter greeted, looking up from his script as you set your bag down on the ground beside his. “So, I’ve been going over the script since study hall and I think we should just start with the scenes that we’re in together and then on our own, go over our separate scenes.”

“Uh,” You cleared your throat, “yeah, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

Peter raised a brow at you. “You okay? Normally you try to fight me when I tell you what to do.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just stressed since I have cheer practice after this.” You lied.

“It’s Wednesday, you never have cheer practice on Wednesdays.”

“Maybe I do, how would you know? Do you stalk me or something, Parker?” You snapped.

“No, God, never mind.” Peter cleared his throat. “No need to yell. Let’s just go over act one, scene five.”

You nodded, letting out a relieved sigh as silence fell between the two of you as you looked for your lines in the scene. You could feel your chest grow warm as you held your breath, awaiting Peter’s next instruction, pretending to read your script as your mind wandered.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong MJ was about Peter. It was clear he didn’t like you in any way other than a friend. And why would he? You bullied him constantly and bickered over trivial things with him. Hell, you’d even once gave him all the wrong answers on a test when you’d realized he was copying you and then went back to fix your own, making him get a 40% while you had gotten a 90%.

“Y/n, did you hear me?” Peter’s hand on your arm forced you out of your own head.

You shrugged his arm off and nodded.

“Alright. I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m ready. Go on.”

Peter reached out towards you, taking your hand in his before you pulled away quickly.

“What are you doing?” You snapped, holding your hand away from him.

“I was acting, you know, as the script tells me to.”

“You don’t have to touch me.”

“It literally says that I have to take your hand.” Peter argued, reaching out for you again. “Just give me your hand, okay?”

You held your hand out for him to take with a confused look on your face before he took your hand, a shy smile on his face as he pulled you closer too him.

You stumbled over your own feet as he pulled you closer, tripping and falling into him.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You gasped, looking up at him, his hands still firm on your hips.

“It’s, it’s fine.” Peter replied, gazing down at you.

“You can, uh, let go of me now.”

“Oh, right! Right.”

Peter let go of you as you stood up straight, fixing your hair as you looked at him.

“Maybe we should go over lines now?” Peter asked awkwardly, hand on the back of his neck.

“I have a confession to make.” You blurted out, immediately regretting saying it.

“What is it?”

“Peter, I just need to tell you this. I think I like you, and I know you don’t feel the same--.”

“Y/n, I really like you too.”

You fell silent, staring at him blankly before responding, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“Oh, shut up and let us have our moment.” Peter chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him again before kissing you softly.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #tom holland!spiderman #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader

83 notes · View notes

yuta1forme · 3 years

Text

light & shadow pt. 1 | yuta

summary: standing in line for doyoung’s book signing, yuta wonders if he has ever acted normally around you

author’s note: i had no idea how else to split this story into a readable format so this will be a two (maybe three) part series! as always let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future parts!

taglist: @sweet-rintarou

prologue: [21:26]

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, college!au (this part)

pairing: yuta x reader

length: 1.7K

There are certain fundamental truths Yuta knows about the universe - the sun always rises in the east, milk goes before cereal and that Nakamoto Yuta does not blush.

“Nakamoto Yuta, do I have permission to flirt with you in Japanese?”, the translation app reads out in its robotic voice. He whips his head around to face you as if the words had left your mouth and not the phone held in your hand. And then he feels it. That unfamiliar heat rising to his neck and cheeks. One look at the amused grin on your face and he knows that you have noticed too. If there is one thing that has not changed in all eleven years of him knowing you, it’s that he should always expect the unexpected from himself when he is around you.

Even right now, hearing you gush about your attractive new coworker, Yuta feels an unfamiliar knot of form in the pit of his stomach. He suspects that it is the protectiveness he feels towards you that is making him feel so strangely antagonistic towards this man he has never met. But there is a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that tells him that that’s not the only reason why.

You always had a way of getting a reaction out of him that no one else could, always had him feeling emotions that he didn’t know he could feel. His relationship with you, while not better or worse than the relationship he had with any of his other friends, was certainly different. It always had been.

In freshman year, equipped with only a translation app on his phone, Yuta left his hometown of Osaka for Seoul. He had been offered a full-ride sports scholarship by Sooman University. He would play for the school’s soccer team and pursue, to his parents’ relief, a more “practical” degree in Business Management.

He would be playing with the team where some of his favourite soccer players had first gotten their start before moving to the Japanese league. It was a dream come true. Well, almost.

He had just never imagined it would be quite this...lonely.

Over his first month in the city, he could count the number of people he had spoken to on one hand. The first was his roommate with whom his conversations were limited to “hello” and “good morning”. The second and third were two middle-aged cafeteria ladies, who would coo over him and give him an additional helping whenever they saw that he was down. The younger of the two looked so much like his aunt, that it made his heart long for his family back in Osaka.

The fourth and final person was Mr. Jung Yunho, the Student Affairs Counsellor - an energetic man in his early thirties who had lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He had sense that something was amiss and had tried to pry into what was bothering Yuta right from their first meeting. After about three weeks of beating around the bush, Yuta had finally, begrudgingly, confided in him about his homesickness and his trouble communicating in Korean. Mr Jung had listened intently through it all, occasionally patting his shoulder to comfort him.

“You must feel very lonely, Yuta”, the older man had told him, resting one hand on his shoulder, eyes shining with sincerity.

It was lonely. He didn’t have a single person he could call a friend. Everyone he had met thus far seemed so busy, living a life far too fast paced to notice the quiet foreign student at the back of the lecture hall. He wondered if anyone in his classes would even notice if he stopped attending lectures. The only time he felt like he belonged somewhere was when he was playing soccer with the team, but even then he wondered whether he could call his teammates, his friends.

“Let’s start with helping you communicate first, shall we?”, Mr Jung had said, interrupting his self effacing train of thought.

“I’ll put you in touch with someone who can help tutor you in Korean. A Korean Literature student who’s been working with some other foreign students as well. I have a gut feeling you two will become great friends!”

That was how Yuta had come to know you. He clicked on your kakaotalk profile picture and zoomed in to your beaming face. You had one of those warm, welcoming faces. A face that one would trust immediately. Your face gave the impression that smiling was your resting face. The laugh lines on either side of your mouth and the crinkles beside your eyes were further proof of that.

Yuta had sent you a short, impersonal message introducing himself as the student Mr. Jung wanted you to tutor. He had not wanted to get his hopes up. Having been all by himself in a foreign country for the past month, being dependent on someone felt strange to him.

Still, before he went to bed that night he found himself refreshing his messages, hoping for a notification from you. As his luck would have it, you hadn’t replied even the following morning. Yuta had swallowed the lump forming in his throat, pushing any disappointment out of his mind.

You made the decision to move, all on your own, to this country far away from your friends and family, where you don’t even speak the native language. You have to face the consequences on your own too. Y/N is not obligated to help you. No one is. This is your own battle, for you to fight on your own.

With those thoughts in mind, he had busied himself with getting ready for the first match of the season against the neighbouring university.

At half-time, Sooman University was trailing behind Seoul University with a score of 3-1. With the centre forward benched because of a foul, things weren’t looking up for the team. Yuta had made several attempts to score a goal throughout the game but had been stopped by the right-back, Park Minsoo, on Seoul University’s team. He was much taller than Yuta and had a larger build, which he used to his advantage.

If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was foul play. Yuta’s teammates had tried signalling to the referee that Park had been playing dirty, but the referee, infamous for being biased towards the Seoul University team, had brushed off their concern.

After having collided with him several times over the last half, Yuta was getting impatient. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him but he had let his anger get the best of him. After another foul-worthy tackle from Park, Yuta used his side to shove the man out of his way with all his energy. Perhaps it was the momentum with which Yuta had crashed into him or pure dramatics, Park landed on his back howling in anger.

The referee blew his whistle to signal a pause and the players from both teams began fighting amongst each either, trying to put the blame on the opposing team’s player. The situation with Park must have been grave because the Seoul team’s coach and manager hurried on to the pitch as well. Yuta’s team captain stepped forward to defend Yuta from the wrath of the other side. But ofcourse, being Japanese, Yuta barely understood a word being spoken. There was no way he would be able to dig himself out of this.

The thought of being benched for the rest of the semester crept into his mind. The fear of losing his scholarship made his legs tremble and he instantly regretted not heeding his older sister’s lifelong advice to him to be more gentle.

Then you appeared. Like an angel, only instead of white robes and a halo made of pure light, you wore a blinding neon green visor and an equally garish hot pink t-shirt bearing the Korean Literature Department’s logo. He saw you hop down the bleachers and squeeze through half a dozen sweaty soccer players, to thrust yourself in between Yuta and the opposing team’s coach. You explained somewhat emphatically to the referee that Yuta was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean and that any missteps on his part were purely a misunderstanding because of the language barrier. The man didn’t seem convinced, grumbling and gesturing animatedly at the two of you, egged on further by the other coach’s growing impatience.

Yuta wished he could understand what was being said. He tried to hang on to every word being spoken, but the adrenaline from the tackle and the heightened atmosphere made it even harder for him to concentrate. He picked up a few words here and there. A mention of a foul. Then someone yelling out the word suspension, which made him clench his fist so hard he thought he would pop a vein in his arm.

But he understood the last words to come out of your mouth, perfectly well.

“Please let my friend off the hook this one time? I apologise on his behalf”.

Friend. No, he definitely had not misheard that. You had called him your friend.

You had yanked Yuta forward by the arm, pushing his head down into a deep bow. Yuta took the hint and apologised, somewhat robotically, to Park and his coach. He was not bothered by the condescending smirk on Park’s face or the dirty looks that were thrown his way by the rest of the Seoul team as he allowed himself to be dragged off the field by you.

You dragged him quickly to the empty booths near the back of the stadium, sat him down and handed him a bottle of Gatorade.

“I saw your text. I’m really sorry I didn’t reply any earlier. But to be fair I had wished you good luck with your game but I doubt you saw my message considering you were down here getting shoved around by that asshole Park”, you had started rambling while Yuta chugged the drink.

Then he did something that he would cringe about for years to come. He should have known right then, on day one, that he could never act like his usual self around you.

He had shot up out of the seat, stepped forward and pulled you right into his arms, lifting you a couple of inches up in the air due to the sheer force. Through shaky breaths, he had whispered out a barely audible thank you to you. To his relief, you didn’t fight him off.

After a few seconds, you broke the silence and embrace.

“Hey, I know I just saved your ass but you’re kind of really stinky from the sweat”, you had said in between giggles.

He had dropped you back down and grinned somewhat apologetically at you in response.

After that day, he was no longer alone.

#yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta fluff #yuta scenarios #yuta college au #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct friends to lovers #nct college au #yuta friends to lovers #moonrise

65 notes · View notes

crystalsmentalhealth · 3 years

Text

Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont

I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it.

I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.

Getting There

I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm.

The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.

My Arrival

When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.

I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.

After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature. My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.

After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.

What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions!

Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.

After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff.

Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.

Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it.

(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)

After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.

The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.

Tyler 2

The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.

I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.

A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.

Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied.

Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.

Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.

A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.

I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet.

There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.

It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed.

The Schedule

I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.

I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while.

Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station.

I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.

8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off

Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo?

I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L.

All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.

When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room.

When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.

I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.

Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting.

After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.

Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.

I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.

The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.

Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.

Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.

Meeting Nathan

Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.

At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past.

I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist.

The Nightmares

I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.

The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together.

Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.

The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.

The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.

Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up.

We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.

Strange Characters

There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”

I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused.

Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself.

M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.

A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.

Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.

Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.

She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me.

She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great.

After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.

As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to.

The Really Bad Day

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.

TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm

I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself.

Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.

As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.

I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L.

I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.

The Road to Discharge

I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.

Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.

Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon.

I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.

Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.

I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.

Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki.

When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there.

Final Thoughts

Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know?

I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home?

No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still.

I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat.

I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill.

I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.

I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.

Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.

National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741

By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.

9 notes · View notes

r6sblitz · 3 years

Text

Happy Valentines day! I don’t have an AO3 but I am debating on making one. Nevertheless, I haven’t written anything fictional since middle school so if it’s bad...at least I have an excuse.

It’s Valentines week, and Montagne needs a date to get entry to the fabled Valentines party. I wonder who it’ll be? (This fic is mild, just some kissing, a little less than 5k words, Montagne/Blitz)

Montagne turned the paper over, inspecting both sides. Valentines was coming up once again, and as per tradition Rainbow threw a huge Valentine's party at whatever hotel ballroom would let them. He's heard the stories of past years--like the one year someone made a "punch" that was nothing more than a concoction of pepto bismol and fruit punch. Or how every year would end in someone finding a couple making out in numerous secluded areas. The Frenchman himself had never been to any of the outings, as the big bold print at the end of the rose colored flier always barred his entrance.

‘Must have a date!’ it read in it's silky letters, mocking him.

It was no secret Gilles loved a good party, especially one where he could engage with his fellow peers. Sadly though, he's yet to find a date. He's thought about just taking a friend and lying, but his poor communication skills also factor into his inability to lie.

With a sigh, he places the flier next to his plate, eating his lunch in peace. That was, until two familiar faces joined him at the table.

"Hey Gilles!" Emmanuelle's warm voice brought a smile to his face as he watched her and Rook sit across from him.

The two very much reminded him of his siblings when they were younger--bright and protective, but they could be mischievous at times. Montagne hasn't even had a chance to greet her back before the flier is snatched from across the table by Julien.

"Planning on attending this year?" he asks with a smirk. Emmanuelle's smile brightens, "Oh it's so much fun Gilles! Please tell me your coming."

Gilles gives a waning smile, "I haven't got a date."

Julien let out an amused huff, "As if that's ever stopped Bandit from sneaking in and stealing the snacks."

Twitch gives him a fake slap to the shoulder, "Don't be mean!" she turns to Monty, "What he means to say is don't feel bad for not having a 'date'," she says with air quotes, "you could just bring a friend. I'm sure everyone would be happy to see you there."

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, "I'm not so sure. I feel it is...out of the spirit?" The two across the table share a confused look unbeknownst to Monty, Julien simply shrugging his shoulders in response. A few moments of silent eating pass before Julien speaks up.

"Well...is there anyone you're close to? Maybe you could use this chance to get to know them a little bit better?" he asks before sticking another forkful of food into his mouth and winking.

Montagne chews the inside of his cheek a moment, cogs in his head turning. He honestly hadn't had a romantic relationship in decades, deeming his job too important to have something take more of his focus away. But if it was a fellow operator...No. That was equally as bad. Job relationships were known to crash and burn when they went south, and with this job they needed exactly the opposite of that. However his mind wanders to the relationships of Rainbow--how despite so many disliking and downright hating each other, it hasn't caused catastrophic issues.

"I think you might have broken him." he faintly hears Emmanuelle giggle, causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

"Well, Valentine's isn't for another week, so there's plenty of time to think it over." Julien says, standing with his empty plate and bidding farewell.

Emmanuelle searches her empty plate a moment, trying to find the right words for the older man.

Eventually, she picks up her plate, "Try not to think too hard, I say just go with a friend. Who knows what might happen!" and with that he is left alone once again. He peers down at the pink flier and it's swirling text, pocketing it as he too exits from the cafeteria.

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

The note has burned a hole into both his pocket and his mind. Every time he casually puts his hands in his pockets, or reaches for his wallet or phone, he is reminded of it and it's connotations. The past few days he's been taking Julien's advice, thinking about who he would want to bring given the chance.

When he's practicing his shooting, he thinks of Thatcher, has to admit the elder man is rather handsome. Though he highly doubts he's gay or bi or whatever sort of things people call themselves these days.

A technology session with Dokkaebi has him wondering about her, but quickly stuffs the idea--she's much too young, he'd feel like a creep asking her.

After training, a few cuts bring him to Gustave. He too admires him, both for his looks and for his dedication. The two made small talk as Doc inspected the cuts, seeing if they needed stitches or if a heart covered bandaid would do. Montagne laughs at the bandages, oddly cute for a man like him to have, to which Doc sighs and explains someone must have replaced the regular ones with these--the name of the culprit not explicitly said but known anyways.

"Are you attending the Valentines party?" Montagne asks as he pulls the sleeves of his coat back over his now Valentine themed arms.

"I do actually," Doc replies offhandedly, busily putting away the peroxide and bandages, "do you?"

Montagne shakes his head, pushing himself off the gurney.

Doc hums in response, “Well if you can’t find one, don’t feel bad for bringing someone more platonic.”

“Emmanuelle told you didn’t she” Montagne sighs, rubbing his face. The younger GIGN members had good intentions but, sometimes they were a bit too much for the old man.

Doc chuckles, “My lips are sealed. Take it easy friend.”

Montagne leaves, spending the rest of his free time pondering a potential partner and wondering who the hell Doc is bringing as a date. His pacing has led him to the upper floor balconies of the base, one of the many enhancements from their old station at Hereford. He sits on a relatively new cushioned bench, watching wistfully as the setting sun stains the sky a deep orange and the clouds purple. It seems he is destined to not have any time to himself as the glass door facing out onto the balcony opens with a quiet squeak. A familiar figure in a puffy white jacket steps out.

Blitz.

The younger man strides toward him, "Hey, mind some company?" he asks.

Montagne shuffles a bit, making room for the german to sit down. He does, with a long winded sigh.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." he chuckles. Montagne smiles back at him and shakes his head. The two enjoy the sunset in peace, though Montagne's mind is elsewhere once again.

Why hadn't he thought of Elias earlier? The german was one of the first people he ever met when Rainbow was conceived. He remembered back to when he was first working with everyone, how he enjoyed Blitz but first thought him naive, or a thrill seeker like Smoke. However as time went on, he found it was the total opposite. Occasionally the german would regale an enthralled younger operator about his time in Kosovo, or in India, or wherever he was stationed in between. Oftentimes the story would horrify them, sometimes along with any older ops within earshot, but he'd lighten the mood by bringing in a happy ending, or following it up with a lighter story. The two also shared morals--the need to protect and make sure everyone was safe regardless of their own situation.

The more Gilles looked at Blitz, the more he began to see. He was kind and pleasant to be around, and had even been helping Montagne improve his english skills. And yet it seemed he was spending less and less time with the german, whether due to more responsibilities or more operators to deal with or a combination of the two. The fact really saddened him, just as they were becoming good friends, they were beginning to drift away.

With his mind lost, he failed to notice Blitz had turned and was now staring at him.

"Er...is there something on my face? Please don't tell me it's marker again, it took me weeks to get that doodle of my neck." he groans, beginning to pull out his phone to check. Montagne shakes himself of his thoughts.

"Ah no, I was just wondering-are you attending the party this weekend?" he asks, unusually nervous.

Blitz tilted his head, "No I'm not, though I have been curious as to how Dominic manages to sneak in every year." he says, putting his chin on his fist in thought.

Before Montagne could reply, the man interjects, "I have an idea, do you have a date?"

Montagne nods his head no.

"Great! We could go together!" he says as if it's just a casual everyday line. Montagne gawks at him, unable to process what's happening until Elias explains further.

"I've always wanted to know how Dom gets in, and I assume you want to go cause well," he vaguely gestures at the frenchman, "it's your type of thing. It's a win win! Unless, you didn't want to go?"

Montagne blinks, waving his hands in front of him, "Oh yes, yes I do." He says, and is surprised he sounds slightly disappointed.

Blitz hops up from his seat, "Great, this will work out perfectly. See you on Saturday?"

"8:30 sharp" Gilles hears himself mumble with a smile. With a lazy salute, the younger man leaves Montagne alone with the rising moon and an odd feeling in his stomach.

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

It had been a long time since Gilles had gone shopping for clothes. Typically he’d wear whatever was supplied, and rarely dress up in an old tuxedo that forever sat in his closet. But with a little egging from a certain two GIGN members, they convinced him to go out and buy some nice clothes for once. So now Gilles was inspecting a large map of the mall along with Julien and Oliver, the latter coming along in place of Twitch who claimed she wanted the three of them to have some “guy time”. After a few moments of inspection, Oliver points to the shop.

“Looks like it’s downstairs, toward the east entrance.”

Julien groans, “Should’ve parked at the other lot.”

The three set out, passing by various clothing boutiques, kiosks of toys and gadgets, and sickly sweet dessert stands. Their leisurely walk leads them to a large outlet at the other end of the mall. As soon as they enter, they’re immediately bombarded by the staff, who manage to wring out of them that Montagne was buying an outfit for his “date”. He’s corralled into a changing room and given several different dress shirts, jackets, and chinos before Julien and Olivier manage to drive them off.

He takes his time, putting on the matching sets before coming out and asking the two’s opinions. Gilles almost instantly regrets bringing the two along--both of them manage to find something or other to downvote an outfit. His latest attempt is simple, a peach colored dress shirt with tan brown dress pants. His hands are folded on his chest, exhaustedly listening to his two countrymen.

“Hmm I don’t know Gilles, I think the shirt is too close to your skin tone.” Julien tuts.

“Why did they think that was a good color to make pants out of, it looks like they're made of—” Gilles stomps back into the dressing room before he can hear the rest of Olivier’s sentence.

It wasn’t an easy feat to make Montagne frustrated, but after nearly an hour, he found himself at the end of his rope. The hangers clatter as he inspects what he’s worn and what’s been tossed to the wayside. A pair of black pants and black shirt are the last two items.

He disrobes before shouldering the shirt on, mumbling to himself that if they didn’t like this one, he was just going to wear his old tuxedo. After putting on the outfit, he takes a moment to inspect it in the thin mirror at the back of the changing room. At first he thought the shirt was just a plain black, however the sleeves bare an intricate lacework of swirling gold vines and roses. The pants have a similar, smaller pattern along the seams going down the outside of the legs.

It’s probably one of the more risque things he’s worn, though nothing will top his April fools butterfly armor, but he takes a deep breath and walks out. To his surprise, the two of them are stunned into silence.

“That looks...amazing!” Julien beams. Olivier nods his head in approval. A nearby store attendant comes by and gushes about the outfit, doing their best to flatter Gilles who takes the compliments with a fake smile.

Montagne lets out a relieved sigh, quickly zipping into the changing room and paying for the clothes before he’s hounded anymore. The three of them merrily made their way back to the other side of the mall, finally getting to the car and heading back to base.

—————————————————————————————

The day of Valentines was like any other day. Training, training, and more training. Though the regiments didn’t seem as intense, the day ending earlier than usual and Montagne found his muscles weren’t as sore as they normally would be. He showers at his dorm, taking his time. Personal bathrooms were among many of the luxuries afforded to them at his base, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate some privacy every once in a while. After he’s done, he dresses in his new attire, and stands in the mirror. He fiddles with his shirt collar, adjusting it this way and that. He’s oddly anxious, a feeling that’s rare for the older man. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, years of firefights and hostage situations and he’s scared over a date. Not even--it’s just a friendly outing to get in. Despite his initial excitement for the party, it’s turned into mild disappointment. With a deep sigh, he hopes to at least spend a little time with the german.

Gilles stuffs his wallet and phone into his pocket, and opens the door, and heads toward the parking lot.

Upon arrival at the hotel, he’s surprised to see just how many operators were milling outside the ballroom, waiting to get in. He’s toward the back of the line and is still nearly half an hour early, but he isn’t alone for long.

“You’re early! And it looks like everyone else is to.” Elias says as he makes his way next to him in line, “You look amazing by the way!” he beams. Despite the low light Gilles swears the younger man is blushing.

“Thank you. You look nice as well.” he says, scanning his partner’s outfit. He’s cleaned up nicely, though his hair is a bit tousled, likely the work of Lera. His skin tone contrasts perfectly with his wine red dress shirt and black pants. The two wait in line patiently, which can’t be said for some of the others. A tug at Montagne’s sleeve gets his attention. He looks down to see Blitz discreetly pointing at someone further up the line, follows his direction and spots the person in question.

“Dominic?” Montagne whispers.

“He’s alone, you think Ash is going to let him in?”

Montagne shrugs, “We’ll have to wait and see.”

The booming voice of Clash from the front silenced all the chatter. She announces the beginning of festivities and the door opens, allowing the guests to file in one couple at a time. Slowly but surely the two make their way to the front, watching in awe as Ash and Clash let Dominic go in sans date.

They were about to enter the crowded ballroom when Blitz stopped him.

“I have to ask,” he says, addressing Morowa, “why’d you let Dom in?”

Clash snorts, “About time someone asked me about that. I owed him a huge favor--he fixed my shield during a firefight and probably saved my life. When I asked him what I could do to return the favor, he said he just wanted to get in here every year.”

Elias quirks an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Seriously, now off you go, have some fun.” she ushers the two in, who slow down to take in the sights and sounds. Outside of rumors, Montagne didn’t actually know what the Valentine’s party actually looked like. The ballroom was extremely long, ending with an empty stage except for a small table and something under a cloth. Scattered around the room were large round tables fit with white lace table skirts. The dim lights, in addition with the added pink and red lights casting small bubbles of light, shower everything in a soft glow. To the left of the entrance, a row of long tables, nearly stretching to the end of the ballroom, house seemingly every dessert and cocktail in existence. Montagne is sure if he ate one of everything from there, he wouldn’t survive the night.

His hand is still in Elias’s as the younger man guides him away from the entrance toward the center of the room. Montagne takes a moment to appreciate just how warm he is, his hand heating Gilles’s forever cold ones. Through the sea of people he manages to spot Emmanuelle and Gustave. He must have slowed down a bit to see them clearly, as Elias turns around, before he too manages to spot the pair.

“Why don’t you go over and chat, want anything to drink?” he asks.

“Just a bit of champagne, thank you.”

“You got it.” Elias replies, and soon he is lost amidst the waves of couples. The mountain of a man manages to squeeze his way over to Emmanuelle, who’s arm in arm with Caveira, chatting with Gustave. The two women are in wildly different dresses--Emmanuelle in a short strapless navy blue dress that fringes as it goes down, while Taina confidently sports a bit longer obsidian color dress, the long sleeves and low cut accentuating her long jet black hair. Twitch perks up upon seeing Gilles, waving him over.

“You made it! I knew you’d find someone.” she says with a grin, which soon turns devious, “so, who’s your date?”

Montagne scans the room, pointing out Elias at the opposite end holding two drinks and engaging in small chatter with Dominic, the other german’s hands holding as many desserts as humanly possible. It takes a few attempts for Emma to see, until Taina helps guide her vision.

“Oh, Elias! Good choice.” she says playfully. Both her and Taina giggle, striding off to mingle elsewhere.

“I’m glad you could make it Gilles.” Doc says, looking comfortable in a barely blue dress shirt, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

“Glad to be here, though I do have to ask-”

Doc tilts his head.

“-who in the world did you bring as a date? I never found out.”

The medic barks with laughter, shaking his head, “You were really concerned about that? I brought Mister Baker,” he points to a gaggle of men nearby consisting of mostly SAS with the exception of Adriano and Aria. Lo and behold Thatcher was among them, waving his hand at a comment Seamus made.

“Ah. I didn’t realize you two were together.” he states bluntly.

“It’s only been a few months, we wanted to keep it relatively low.” he states, “So, how long have you been with Elias?”

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, “In all honesty, he just wanted to see how Dominic got in.”

Doc hums in acknowledgement, “I see. Well, you two enjoy the party, try not to drink too much.” he says, splitting off to join his partner. Thatcher takes to him casually, looping an arm around his back and resting his hand on the doctor’s hip. The little gaggle are surprised at first, that is until Smoke undoubtedly says something raunchy, which earns him the stink eye of both men. Montagne can’t help but chuckle at the site of it all.

“Gustave and Mike huh, can’t say I saw that one coming,” Elias says. Montagne turns to find he’s returned, drinks masterfully held in one arm while the other teeters two plates of dessert foods. Gilles quickly grabs his drink and food, relieving the other man of his juggling duties, which he thanks him for.

“You could have asked for help.” Montagne jokes, taking a sip of the sparkling champagne. It’s a lot sweeter than normal, but he has no doubt everything at that table is more sugary than it should be.

“It’s ok, didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” he replies softly. There’s an unplaceable look in his eyes as he stares at the liquid in his glass, before taking a chug. Montagne still swears there’s a blush to his cheeks, but the lighting still obscures the colors of his face.

The two chat, occasionally accompanied by another couple, but mostly they talk amongst themselves. Montagne learns a lot in their chatter--like how Elias is pretty good at a lot of sports, but can’t shoot a hoop to save his life. Or that he was in a choir when he was younger, but never pursued music because he’d choke up on stage, though he can’t help but sing while doing the dishes. In turn, Gilles tells him tidbits about himself. Tells him his love of old country guitars, tells him he hates the winter because he gets so cold, tells him he of the times he and his brothers would sneak into their sisters’ room and hide their dolls in odd places around the house. The last one getting a good laugh out of the younger man.

After what seemed like hours of talking, Ash walked up on stage and addressed them all.

“I hope everyone’s been having fun! Now it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for!” she announces, lifting the cloth off both the table and large obelisk on stage. They reveal a turntable and huge speaker accordingly. The lights somehow dim even further, leaving most of the ballroom in shadow. A large portion of the dance hall lights up under a disco ball, its tiny mirrors casting orbs of light that twirl on the floor. Anyone who was sitting down immediately jumps to their feet, grabbing their partners and guiding, or in some cases dragging, them to the dance floor.

Montagne watches wistfully as the operators sway slowly with the beat of the music. Castle picked a good song, an old one he recognizes from the many times it’s played while someone’s cooking or cleaning on base. There’s a pressure on his shoulder. When he looks it turns out to be Elias’s hand.

“Do you...want to dance?” he asks, and this time Montagne is certain the man’s face has gone red. He smiles, takes his hand and the two of them go to the outskirts of the dance area.

“Sorry if I step on your shoes, I have two left feet.” the german chuckles.

They waltz and step to the music, making small movements so as to not step on each other, but soon they get into a rhythm. Elias has rested his head on Gilles’s shoulder, while the older man feels like he’s having a revelation. Everything felt just so right. Like god has molded Elias to fit perfectly in his arms, and that Gilles was sculpted to perfectly hold Elias. It felt so good, Montagne never wanted to let go.

They danced. And danced and danced, until the music stopped. Gilles wasn’t even aware that most of the operators left, save for a few stragglers trying to get their drunk dates to a hotel room for some sleep and water. Elias still had his head buried in the space between Gilles’s neck and shoulder.

“What time is it?” he heard him mumble.

Montagne reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“It’s almost one in the morning.” he said as Elias pulled away. The older man felt himself missing the contact, the cool air of the ballroom almost immediately replacing the younger man’s warmth.

“Can’t believe you made me dance past midnight.” he joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a forefinger and thumb.

“Someone mentioned free hotel rooms…” Gilles murmured.

“At this point, I don’t mind paying. I don’t want to drive home.” Elias yawned.

——————————————————————-

Everyone he had talked to about the party seemingly forgot to leave out that the hotel booked one room per two guests. One room with one bed. How cliche. But at this point Montagne didn’t really care, snagging to key from the receptionist. He met up with Elias, who was sitting on a chair nearby, looking ready to pass out.

“We get a room?”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed.” Gilles replied.

Elias just shook his head, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The two made their way out of the brightly lit lobby to a nearby hallway. Thankfully they didn’t need to go far--their room was on the first floor.

“Oh hey,” Elias perked up, stopping Gilles, “do you mind if I get a water real fast?” the younger man pointed to a closed door, the sign tacked on it read ‘Ice and Vending Machines’. Gilles let him go, waiting only a few seconds before Elias popped back out, face a lot redder than before.

“Is everything...alright?” Gilles asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Elias cleared his throat, “Ah yep! Just uh, well. Now I know just how intimate Taina and Emma are.” he stuttered.

Montagne couldn’t help but chuckle.

The room appeared before them after a minute of walking. Gilles swiped the card, clicking open the door and flicking on the nearest light. The room itself was cozy, the walls a warm tan color against a navy blue carpet. Though small, it still had a countertop with a coffee machine and mini fridge stuffed underneath. Popping it open, Gilles took out two water bottles, handing one to Elias. With a small thanks the younger man chugged it down, sighing when finished.

The two stood in the room. The tension in the air was tangible, like a static buildup. But Montagne let the feeling pass over him, and didn't want to impose on the younger man. Elias took a step forward.

“I, uh, had a really fun time tonight.” finally meeting Gilles’s eyes.

“I’m glad.” he hummed back. Elias took another step forward.

“If you wanted to do this next year, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They were close now, barely inches away. Gilles leaned down a bit, taking in everything he could. From the wrinkles shirt, to his reddening ears and messy hair.

“And I…” he begins, but cuts himself off. Their faces are inches away, perfect for kissing.

And so they do.

It’s a step beyond incredible. Montagne hasn’t felt this elated in years. Elias’s lips are surprisingly soft and as warm as the rest of him. He tastes like champagne and chocolate, fitting for someone as sweet as him. They stay there a moment, simply enjoying the touch as they continue to kiss, Montagne winding his arms around him. After what seems like hours, they eventually part, breaths still close enough to intermingle.

Elias laughs, embracing Gilles back, “So now that we got that out of the way, can we sleep now?” he jokes tiredly.

Montagne pecks the top of his head, “Of course mon amour.”

It takes an enormous amount of effort to get to bed, neither of them wanting to move, to let go. Gilles makes the first move, taking a hand and guiding Blitz to the bed. They kick off their shoes and climb into the bed, which was thankfully big enough for the two of them. Not like it mattered--as soon as both were in bed they huddled close, Montagne wrapping an arm around Blitz’s waist, and Blitz slipping his feet between Montagne calves. They sit in silence for a moment. Gilles can feel the younger man sigh against his neck as he rubs circles in his shoulders.

“Goodnight Elias, I love you.” Montagne hums. He’s not sure if Elias hears him at first, the shorter man’s head is stuffed under his chin, until he hears him squeak a reply.

“I love you too.”

Montagne grins, letting the warmth of the other man overtake him, helping him drift to sleep.

#r6s blitz #r6s montagne #montagne/blitz #monblitz #proofread once by me and never again lol

29 notes · View notes

howggswouldreact · 4 years

Text

📚 Well-Intentioned Secrets | Gahyeon

Request: part 2 of Well-Intentioned Lies, requested by @allmonstersarehuman-lc. here is the request.

this scenario can be read independently.

Plot: Reader walks Gahyeon to her dorm every night after her late class, saying that their dorm is right there close to hers. Reader is lying and Gahyeon knows it. But what Reader doesn’t know is... Gahyeon has a secret.

Words: 2,954

Genre: fluff, college!au

Notes: as i said that i almost made a chapter 2 for this one, i ended up doing it! enjoy your reading! ♥

Part I

Waiting for time to pass faster inside that classroom had become commonplace for Gahyeon. She loved to study, she really wanted to learn more and she always revised the subjects when she could, it was like a hobby for her because it was fun and she liked doing it. But everything changed after she met you.

Now, Gahyeon played with the pen between her fingers, looking at the movements of the hands of the clock just above the whiteboard on the wall a few meters from where she was sitting. She was anxious.

She wanted to see you.

Gahyeon knew you were already outside, waiting for her. And Gahyeon knew that even though you said you also had classes in the afternoon, it was a lie. Which made her even more anxious. And tense. It all made her wonder: why did you cross the entire campus to take her to her dorm?

She thought about the first time she saw you.

She was in the cafeteria next to the auditorium, after attending a lecture - very boring, by the way - to keep her friend, Minji, company. She had promised that if Gahyeon went with her, she would pay whatever she wanted at the cafeteria. And Gahyeon actually made Minji open her wallet.

Minji would have regretted it, but if it weren't for Gahyeon making a joke about the photo on the screen, Siyeon wouldn't have laughed and approached to talk. At first, Minji thought Siyeon was interested in Gahyeon, but Siyeon had asked for her phone number. Gahyeon smirked at her, followed by the sentence:

"If it works, you owe me another princess day at the cafeteria."

Gahyeon did not expect that, when entering the cafeteria, her eyes would find you.

The glass windows let the sun's rays through easily and Gahyeon realized that her beauty easily matched that natural light. While ordering - a strawberry pie and a cappuccino for her, strawberry pie and juice for Minji - she turned to watch you.

"Did you miss something back there?"

Gahyeon was startled, surprised by Minji's voice in her ear.

"No, I just...", the sentence died when, on the counter, her name was called.

She and Minji took their orders and sat down a little farther.

"You won't run away from me, young lady.", Minji said, smiling as she took the stainless steel straw out of the bag and put it in her juice glass. "What were you looking at over there?"

Gahyeon sighed and played with her cappuccino, heating her fingertips around the glass. One last look at you and your profile made her heart stop a few beats.

"See there, at the third table to the left of the door?", she said in a whisper, hoping that Minji would be discreet.

Minji looked at the ceiling while drinking the juice, her eyes roaming from the ceiling to the door and then counting 1... 2... 3!

"Hmmm. I found it.", she turned to Gahyeon again. "What's up?"

"On the left, facing here. They are beautiful."

Minji smirked and took a bite out of the pie.

"I know them.”, she replied, chewing.

"What???", Gahyeon's eyes widened.

"If you want to know their name, you must buy me juice the next time we come here."

Gahyeon was incredulous at Minji's words, but knowing your name would make her know something about you, something beyond your beauty.

"Deal.", she said, raising her hand and Minji shook their hands tightly.

"Their name is Y/N, we have the same classes."

"My God, how lucky you are!", groaned Gahyeon. "I think if I had classes with them, my grades would be terrible."

Minji laughed.

"If it works, you owe me one more juice."

She thought about when the two of you met.

It was a Thursday night, she was alone and was returning from the library with her backpack full and her arms carrying heavy books. Gahyeon was cursing herself mentally, thinking that she couldn't take more than she would really have time to read, but she was very excited about college.

But what worried her was not the weight of the books. What really worried her at that moment was all the path to the dorm. It was about 20 minutes to get there and it was dark.

The moon was in the sky and illuminated as much, if not more, than the streetlights on the sidewalk she was walking on. Everything was very quiet, there was no sign of a party or even students walking back and forth; much of this was perhaps due to the fact that exams for the semester were arriving the following week.

But it was all so... deserted. Gahyeon was afraid.

"Hey, good evening!"

Startled, Gahyeon dropped the books and screamed.

"Hey, hey, calm down. I'm not going to do anything to you!", you said, raising your hands.

With her heart stilling from the fright she had taken, Gahyeon finally looked at your face and recognized you. Y/N, from the cafeteria. She felt her heart racing again, but this time it was not because of any fear.

She watched you bend down to gather her books and she also bent down to pick them up, still gasping from the shock but with the blood rushing through her veins from being so close to you. She looked at your hands and wondered what it would be like to touch them, to interlace her fingers and yours.

"I'm Y/N. What about you? What’s your name?”, you asked, after delivering the books to her.

"I’m Gahyeon.", she replied.

She already knew your name but would keep it to herself, as her secret. After all, it would be weird if she said she already knew your name, right? It would make her look like a stalker or something.

You talked all the way to the dorm. She asked if you were walking towards the dormitory that was further east of the campus, she did not want this good moment to end. She wanted to be able to continue talking to you, not just for this night but for all the others as well.

“Yes, yes. Over there.”, you said.

And she didn’t go into the question any further, understanding that you were also living there.

"So good to know that her dorm is close by... besides being a company on such a deserted path, it is the company of such a person...", Gahyeon interrupted her own thoughts, she didn't want to be so deluded.

After you left her at the door of the building, Gahyeon wondered if a friendship would grow between you. Or maybe something else. The conversation with you was so good and pleasant that she never wanted it to end.

When she arrived at the door of the dormitory, placing the books on the floor carefully - they had already suffered too much from the fall a few minutes ago -, Gahyeon looked for the key and thought about how beautiful you were in the moonlight.

You had already won her heart.

As time passed by, Gahyeon realized that her feelings for you were growing uncontrollably. There was so much in you that enchanted her, it was inevitable to fall in love with you. She just wanted it to be reciprocal.

Some nights when you came back together along the same route you met, Gahyeon took a breath to start saying that she liked you. She had already trained a lot in front of the mirror, she even thought of writing a note, but she never had the courage to say it.

Minji, who knew you both were creating a bond, always asked Gahyeon:

"So? Did it work? When are you going to buy me juice?"

Gahyeon denied it. There was nothing to celebrate. At least not yet.

Sometimes, she felt like you had something to tell her. But maybe it was just in her head. She thought it was really a hesitation that she created in her own mind.

Until the day before.

Minji wanted to go to another lecture and wanted Gahyeon to be her company again.

"Hey, where's Siyeon? I know you guys are always texting each other, don't make me go through this torture again!"

"She's going. I just don't want her to think I'm going because of her. But I want to see her."

"But are you going because of her?"

"Yes."

"But-"

"I can pay an iced americano for you, what do you think?"

Gahyeon pretended to think about it but Minji already knew it was a "yes".

When the three of them left the lecture and went to the cafeteria, they were even satisfied with the content that was passed on, there was no weird slide photo or layout errors.

As they sat down, Siyeon drank the first cup of her coffee.

"You look tired.", Minji said, worried.

And she really did. Gahyeon noticed that there were slight dark circles under her eyes.

"It's because of my roommate, Y/N.", said Siyeon on a sigh.

Gahyeon froze at the mention of your name. She felt Minji look at her from the corner of her eye very quickly.

"What did they do to make you like this?", asked Gahyeon, trying not to look more interested in your name in the story but in Siyeon.

"They are making me stressed! They have arrived almost midnight every day, what is it for?", there was disbelief in her voice.

Gahyeon felt relief. It couldn't be you, since your bedroom was next to hers. And as far as she knew, Siyeon's was across the campus. Minji always complained about walking too far to get there.

"Look, I understand that when there are parties we arrive late at the dorm. If we are going out with someone, we come back late. More importantly: if we have classes at night, we also come back late to the dorm. But they are not going to any party, they are not going out with anyone, not even have classes. And they always come when I'm already sleeping. ", sighed. "I love them but it worries me too. I asked what was going on for them to arrive so late and they said I wouldn't understand if they said."

"I believe they are a vampire.", said Minji, getting a laugh from Siyeon.

Gahyeon laughed automatically. She drank more of the American iced while the two friends continued the conversation. Her mind was traveling and she felt weird.

Did you lie to her? And for what reason? Why would you lie to her?

Gahyeon had no answers. But she needed to make sure it was you.

Now, with the bell ringing, Gahyeon woke up from her thoughts and realized it was time to meet you. She quickly noted the specifications that the teacher made for the semester's projects and kept the material in her backpack. She said goodbye to her friend Dami as they went down the stairs. She was so looking forward to seeing you.

And there you were, at the entrance.

"Hey!", said Gahyeon. "Today’s class was terrible. So many projects for this semester… I don’t know if I will have time to breathe.”

You were beautiful, she thought.

“If you need any help, you know you can send me a message, don’t you? I'll show up quickly to help you. ”, you said, smiling at her while holding the strap of your backpack.

Gahyeon felt her heart melt with your smile.

"So get ready because I will be texting you and asking for several different snacks."

“I said that I will help with the projects…”

"No problem. Project is to eat as many snacks as I can. ”

You laughed and put an arm around her shoulders. You started the long walk to her dorm on that starry night. Gahyeon felt safe with your arm around her, even though it made the urge to kiss you even bigger.

On the way to the dorm, Gahyeon wondered if she should talk about the conversation with Minji and Siyeon. She still didn't feel it was the right time. She wanted you to tell her, she wanted you to have the initiative. As you said nothing, she kept talking about the project.

After a while, Gahyeon realized that you were deep in thoughts.

“Y/N?”, she called you. "Did you hear what I said?"

“Hm… I… I'm sorry, I got distracted.”, you said, rubbing your face.

"Oh, fine," she said, smiling. “It wasn’t important, you don’t have to worry. What’s up, huh? You’ve been looking thoughtful for almost ten minutes. ”

The wind was cold but your eyes made her feel warm.

"I think I'm sleepy.”, you said.

She knew you were lying. Her heart sank.

“Then you should go to bed. Now. Go, go, go.”, she said, pushing you back in the direction you had just came from.

You laughed and turned to her. And her heart was torn between the hurt of the lie and the warmth of the sound of your laughter.

"Aren’t you going to say bye?"

She laughed. Approaching you, she kissed you on the cheek. Her heart was pounding.

“Now, go.”, and she pushed you back in the same direction.

That was the moment. If you went in the direction that she had pushed you, she would have the answer to one of so many questions.

She wanted her lips to be touching yours before you left. Because even though you lied to her, she liked you.

You were so full of your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the path you were taking. While walking to the dorm you shared with Siyeon, Gahyeon was right behind you, walking slowly and hiding a little in the shadows. When she realized it was definitely the opposite way you were going, she said loud and clear:

"I knew it!"

You were startled by her voice coming from behind you.

"Gahyeon?"

“I knew you had lied to me!”, she said in a loud voice.

And that had been a trap and you hadn’t even realized it.

“Okay, I can explain.”, you said, Gahyeon noticed the desperation in your eyes and your voice.

She crossed her arms, waiting. She was willing to listen.

When you finished telling how everything happened until you both got there, until your lie was discovered, you let your shoulders down and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Gahyeon realized that you were telling the truth. During all those nights walking together she met you, and those were the best nights she has ever had.

“Look, Gahyeon… I wouldn’t do it all for nothing. It's just… I like you. "Gahyeon didn't notice but she was holding her breath. Did you like her? “Since I hit my eyes on you at that cafeteria, I found you interesting. Yoohyeon told me to try to talk to you, you know? Try to do something. But I was too much of a coward for that. Coward to say hi but brave enough to hide myself behind a lie.”, you sighed loudly. “Ah, I accept if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I think I better go to my dorm. My real dorm. ”

You started walking again, your steps were dragged and Gahyeon was very, very surprised. How was it possible? All this time, all those walks at night, all those nights being her best company, was it all because you liked her?

Gahyeon managed to make herself walk back to the dormitory, entering quietly only to realize that Minji was not there. She needed her friend's opinion. What to do?

So she decided to follow her own heart and took out her cell phone from her backpack.

"Just for you to know…”, she said as soon as you answered the phone call, her voice was low, she was about to tell you her secret. “… I-I kind of already knew your name when we met.”

Silence.

She didn't know why she said that first. But she didn't want any secrets or lies between you both, even if they were with good intentions.

"What?", you said.

“Yeah… like…”, she sighted. “I thought you were cute… and I commented it to my friend.", her cheeks were very red. "Her name is Minji and I think she has some classes with you."

“Okay, this is… awesome.”, you replied, she could imagine your smile through your voice.

“And we will talk until you get to the dorm, okay?", she said, in a serious tone. "No hanging up. I need to know if you got there safely. ”, the tone of Gahyeon’s voice was now of concern.

“Okay, mom. But tell me… how did you find out that I was lying? ”

“Minji is going out with Siyeon. And during a conversation with Minji and me, she said that she was a bit mad at Y/N, her roommate, because they were arriving late every single day, even tho they had no classes nor even parties. It wasn’t that hard to find out that the Y/N of the story was actually you. ", she summarized.

"Oh, my God! She snitched on me! ”

“Yes! And I snitched myself. ”, Gahyeon said, laughing.

You both were relieved.

“So… you thought that I was cute, huh?”

Gahyeon smiled with your question.

"Yes. But don’t think that lying is okay. Every day, you’ll have to take me to my dorm. That’s your punishment. ”

"Well... This is a punishment that I am willing to take, Mrs. Gahyeon."

Gahyeon smiled, looking at the ceiling and, far ahead of her, walking in a gray sidewalk, you were heading in a direction increasingly opposite, smiling at the moon above.

You were totally into her.

#gahyeon scenario #gahyeon reactions #gahyeon scenarios #gahyeon headcanons #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher moodboard #dreamcatcher scenario #dreamcatcher reactions #dreamcatcher headcanons #gahyeon headcanon #girlgroup scenarios #girlgroup reaction #girlgroups reaction #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop headcanons #kpop imagine

67 notes · View notes

kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

I, Alone (Part 4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Want to start from the beginning? Find the Masterlist HERE!

Warnings: angst, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING

Summary: as Dean tries to figure out what is missing from his life, the reader is still attempting to run from her past.

A/n: I’m so sorry guys, this should have been finished days ago my writers block is hella bad. Anyways I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you thought!

Two years.

Two years of running from the past. Most people would say you could have stopped running months ago, and they were probably right. . . But once you get used to it it can become addicting. Plus it kept you busy, kept your mind off of Sam. . . And Dean. You kept hunting though of course, you couldn’t give that up no matter how hard you tried. No matter where you ended up there would always be a monster that needed slaying.

Two years.

Two years since you left the bunker and drove east until you couldn’t anymore. You found an airport, bought a ticket and left the back roads of the good old US of A behind before you could stop yourself.

And where did all that running lead you? To this moment now. The suns rays were almost too bright even with your sunglasses on, but your eyes were trained on the quaint street before you, watching as people went about their daily lives. normal lives.The small outdoor cafe you found yourself nestled at was the closest thing to peace you would probably ever find. It was better than some of the other places you had been. The small town was tucked into the lush countryside of France far from anything evil.

To bad you’d have to leave in a day or so.

That was one of your only rules. Never stay too long. If you did that you’d meet people and the last thing you wanted to do was build connections. (And look how well everything turned out the last time you cared about someone.)

It was almost funny how it had all played out. In the beginning you had been terrified of being alone in the world and now you preferred it. You got to finally get an outside look of how you had been living and you realized that if you let people in they were just harder to let go of. It was easier being by yourself. That much you knew.

“Alright, where to next?” You mumbled, unfolding the worn and fading map out in front of you, taking up most of the small sunlit table.

You had started running two years ago, you couldn’t stop now. Eyes on the horizon, no second glances back.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *.

Something was missing.

Dean could feel it in the very marrow of his bones. As days past and turned into weeks the older Winchester was trying desperately to figure out what was wrong. After his first few incidents he began writing them down, from the random bag of candy to the extra cup of coffee he had poured- it all was written down. Some things happening more than once. It’s as if his mind had shifted into some sort of auto pilot. Yet no matter how hard he stared at the list or went over it out loud, his head would not give him the one thing he was desperately digging for.

Answers.

He tried to piece it together like a puzzle, but for the life of him it was like two things weren’t connecting in his brain. . . Either that or there was some sort of dumb wall in his head that he couldn’t knock down or climb over.

But he knew something was there. It was just. . . Hidden.

“Sam, I’m telling you man- something’s not right.” Dean tried once more, following his brothers heels as they stepped up into the library.

“Cas has checked on you several times these past few weeks, don’t you think he would have told you if he felt something off?”

Dean paused mid stride, watching as Sam sunk down into his seat. “You think I’m crazy don’t you?”

“You want me to be honest?” Sam quirked an eyebrow, looking over the edge of his book. “Yes. Just a little bit.”

With an exasperated sigh Dean let his head fall back, the older Winchester rolling his eyes before he moved over to the chair across from Sam. “So you’re telling me you don’t feel anything. . . Off?”

“For the final time, No!”

“Not like something’s missing? Like something’s should be here but isn’t?”

This time it was Sams turn to sigh, slamming his book shut before tossing it onto the table. His brother had been talking about this for weeks. weeks! And it was beginning to drive him up the wall.

“Dean, you lose shit all the time. You’re always misplacing crap. You need to calm down!”

“Calm down?! Sam, I’m losing my fucking mind over here, I can’t calm down!” Slamming his hands down on the polished wood of the table, Dean quickly stood up, his anger beginning to fizz in his veins.

Quickly fed up with his brothers lack of help the hunter pushed away from the table, making his way back down the hallway. But once more his brain went into auto pilot and before he could register it he had passed his own room, instead halting outside the door of a room that as far as he could remember had been vacant and empty ever since they found the bunker.

The brass numbers were tarnished, and the door itself sensibly shut. It was just another one of the spare bedrooms. Nothing special about it. Hesitantly he ran a calloused hand over the numbers, working his mind to try and find the missing piece. It was like he was trying to follow a trail of breadcrumbs but it kept stopping so he had no choice but to stop as well. Where there should have been memories there was only blank space.

“What the hell?” He grumbled, jaw clenching in anger. He was trying so hard to remember. So hard. Yet nothing was showing up. The exhaustion of it all settling over him like a heavy cloud.

And that’s when he felt the tears running down his face. The hunter moving his hand from the brass numbers to wipe at his face in confusion, eyebrows drawing together as he looked down at his wet palm.

He was crying? Why the hell was he crying?

And then suddenly his knees buckled and he was sliding down the opposite wall, head falling into his hands. He was trying with everything he had to remember but his mind wouldn’t let him and he could feel himself falling apart. Sam wouldn’t listen and that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Dean?”

The sudden voice had Deans head popping up, jade eyes fixating on the trench coated angel walking down the hallway towards him, his own eyes filled with concern.

“Cas?”

“What’s wrong?”

The angel knelt down, eyes filling with more worry at the sight of his friend who’s eyes were red and filled with tears. Dean opened his mouth to speak, flinching only when his voice cracked.

“I’ve lost something very important to me and I don’t know what it is.”

SPN Taglist (still open!)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love @busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12 @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester series #supernatural #spn x reader

94 notes · View notes

claudeng80 · 4 years

Text

Up in Flames (Firefighter AU)

Obi’s Kevlar jump jacket is hanging on its hook. On the shelf above sit five empty water bottles in a neat line and a handheld GPS unit with its plug trailing off to the nearest outlet. The cubby below is filled from edge to edge with the bulk of his pack. Everything is just as Mitsuhide demands on inspections.

None of it should be there.

She’s been pretending not to eavesdrop on the radio for days, trying not to stare at the map on the wall in the cafeteria wondering where they all are and what’s happening. The Pincushion fire is a big one, bad enough to call for the full squad of smokejumpers- the whole team was supposed to be gone for days yet, and yet somehow Obi’s here. All she can picture is that he’s hurt. And she didn’t know.

Her feet take her straight toward Ryuu and the clinic, down a hallway lit only by the light from under Zen’s office door and out into the courtyard without thinking. She’s impatient, on the point of running but the clatter of steel on rock hauls her up short. Her quarry is much closer than she expected.

He doesn’t exactly jump up to greet her, but he's too tall to hide in a folding chair, no matter how he slouches. Dark spiky hair no helmet can defeat gives him away, as does the rattle of the loose bricks of the fire pit under his boots. He taught Ryuu to make Smores there before the burn ban went into effect..

“You’re okay!” The words come out a bit loud and maybe she sounds a bit too surprised. He looks okay, at least, so the odds of him having been released and not just having escaped Ryuu through the window are increasing.

“When have you known me not to be?” Obi’s still frowning when he leans down to pick up the tool he dropped. It’s a blade-pick thing on a long handle, she doesn’t know all the names yet, and the sharp part is far too close to his foot for comfort. Yes, his boots have reinforced toes, but it’s still dangerous. “The fire shifted east into easier territory, the hotshots can handle it now. Mitsuhide and most of the others stayed to help them out, but he sent me back with Shuka.”

“Is he-” She looks toward the clinic, ashamed that all this time she hadn’t even noticed. She’s been worried about the wrong firefighter. And here her mouth’s so dry she can’t even finish the perfectly valid question- she’s an embarrassment of a medic. Zen should have left her in the bus station where he found her. It’s a vicious spiral she’s looking down before she’s jarred loose by Obi’s laugh.

“Relax, miss, he just put a foot wrong on a slope and went the fast way down through some brush. His face looks like he lost a fight with a tree and he twisted his knee up pretty good, but Ryuu’s already seen him. The worst part will be when everyone else gets back.” His grin turns feral as he holds up the tool he was sharpening, checking the edge of the blade against the last light of the sun.

It’s only now that Shirayuki notices the firepit isn’t so empty after all. He's set up the fake fire in lieu of a real one, and its LEDs flicker sadly in the hollow. Kiki gave the toy to Mitsuhide as a birthday present at the beginning of the season, and it’s taken on a life of its own. The number of pranks it’s starred in is more than she can count, and she hasn’t even been there for half of them. She’s not sure what it means to him here, but it does make the darkening courtyard just a bit more comforting. The release of her worry and anger hits her all at once and leaves her a little lightheaded, and she sinks into the other lawn chair, which squeaks beneath her weight.

Obi eyes her suspiciously for a second, then starts tying the safety cover back onto the tool he’d been sharpening. There’s just enough light left to watch him work, looking far too clean and relaxed for someone just back from having parachuted into the path of a wildfire and spent three days in the backcountry. There’s no awkwardness in the way he moves, just his climber’s grace and competence. The sunset turns his skin to gold. He catches her looking. “Do I pass inspection?”

Hopefully the LEDs are faint enough to disguise the burning in her cheeks. “Our new base will be ready on Friday.” She’s got everything ready to go in her suitcase already, but she knows Obi too well to think he’ll do the same. He’ll throw everything in a duffel bag Thursday night and call that packing.

“The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get Yuzuri off our backs.” The last sliver of the sun disappears behind the distant mountains as he salutes with the now-less-intimidating tool.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She’s been spamming Shirayuki with satellite data layers and soil moisture updates several times a day. They’re being sent north for political reasons; the endangered Olin Maris is finally getting some attention and splitting off a small smokejumper unit for easy access is Izana’s concession. But the details of the transfer don’t make a whole lot of sense. Obi’s qualified, but nobody expected him to be made foreman anytime soon. And four months ago Shirayuki was sleeping rough with nowhere to go, and now she’ll be chief base medic. Zen’s close-lipped about the whole thing. But they’ll do their jobs and keep the Olin Maris safe (on pain of death, says Yuzuri). Just because it’s all suspicious doesn’t mean they can take the responsibility any less seriously.

It gets dark fast once the sun’s behind the mountains, here. Obi leans over the pit and reaches in, and in the second before his hand closes on the light, it illuminates the curves of his arm. She’s seen those muscles haul ridiculous weights of gear, seen Obi hang upside down from impossibly tiny handholds for fun, but somehow here it softens him. By the glow of the evening sky and the flicker of a child’s campfire toy, she can’t look away as the light casts sharp shadows across his cheekbones and lines every eyelash in gold- “I’ve always thought you looked good by firelight.”

Obi blinks at her, and far too slow, she realizes what just came out of her mouth. She just said that. To his face. To a firefighter.

A cicada spins up its song, somewhere out in the dark. Obi blinks, scoops up the fake fire in his hand, and switches off the light. He’s a shadow in a shadow as her eyes struggle to adjust. “Oh, the uniform,” he says at last. “I know, sexy, right? Makes me look very manly. Half the reason I got into the job.”

That’s not what she meant at all. If she had Yuzuri’s gift of speech or Kiki’s confidence, she’d know what to say to him, how to compliment him the right way. It’s not about a uniform or about his job, it’s about him. But she’s only Shirayuki, and she has no skill for this kind of talk. She shuffles her feet, appreciating the darkness that hides her discomfort and ignoring the gentle sounds of Obi moving around. He’s probably going inside.

The yard-light clicks on with an electrical snap, and Obi’s not by the door, he’s right by her side. It’s far too close. “I’ve always thought so,” she adds, startled, and his eyes as he stares down at her match her expression. This close she can see the specks of ash-burns on his face and smell his soap, and his throat moves as he swallows.

She should- she should go make sure Ryuu’s remembered to eat dinner. It’s late. The first step back is easy, but she slows as she reaches the door and looks back. He’s still watching her go. “Good night,” she adds. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. You probably think I don’t notice how much you help me, but I don’t know where I’d be without you. I’m looking forward to going north, because you’ll be there.” And she punctuates it with the slam of the screen door, putting as much hallway between them as she can before he can answer.

#obiyukibingo2020 #firefighter au #in which obi is a smokejumper #BINGO #at last #thank you sabraeal for last-minute beta reading #fanfic

24 notes · View notes

writerbyaccident · 4 years

Text

Knight in Shining Armor (Yandere Mirio TogataxReader)

Mirio was sweet, Mirio was friendly, Mirio was kind. These were facts, plain and simple, facts that everyone who had met Mirio knew. The sun rose in the east, the world was round, and Mirio was just about the nicest, most heroic student at UA. And he had never given any person a reason to doubt it. This glowing reputation of his was known by everyone, so it wasn’t really a huge surprise to you that when you needed help one day, it was Mirio who came to your rescue.

The other students in your class had already gone to lunch that afternoon, but as you had to stay back to ask your teacher a quick question, you were now walking to the cafeteria alone. The hallways were empty and quiet, a detail that you appreciated. The general atmosphere at UA was hardly a peaceful one, what with so many raucous and competitive students, so you were thankful for the brief break from the chaos, chaos that you knew was waiting for you in the lunchroom.

As you slowly made your way down the stairs, you took this rare opportunity to look over your paper, to think about how to incorporate your teacher’s suggestion. Parsing things out as you were, you weren’t exactly paying full attention to your surroundings as you should have been. Eyes and mind on your paper, it was a complete shock to you when you stumbled over something on the stairs.

Instinctually giving a shriek, you felt yourself begin falling into what would surely be a painful tumble down the steps. Throwing out a hand in a likely vain attempt to at least minimize your fall, you shut your eyes tight, bracing for the slam of your head on stone. But rather than feel the impact and feel the pain, you simply felt a strong hand grab your wrist, pulling you back up to safety. Your eyes still closed at the moment, you let your rescuer slide an arm around your waist to steady you. Once you were stable, you felt safe enough to reopen your eyes and realized that Mirio Togata had been your knight in shining armor.

“Are you okay?” he asked with warm concern, his beautiful blue eyes showing the depth of his worry. Shocked by both your near-accident and your rescue by one of the big three, you were speechless for a moment. After all, despite all of the good things you had heard about Mirio, there was no denying that his large, well-muscled figure could be intimidating.

“Oh, um, yes,” you stammered out once you realized that you ought to answer him. “I’m alright, thanks to you. I would have been really hurt if it weren’t for you.”

“Well,” Mirio replied, a deep heartbreak flashing briefly in his eyes at the mere thought of you being hurt, “it’s a good thing that I was here to save you.”

“No doubt,” you chuckled.

“You’re in general studies, right?” Hardly being able to believe that Mirio recognized you even slightly, you felt your cheeks begin to grow warm. Sure, you knew who he was, but that was because absolutely everyone knew who he was. So the fact that he was at all aware of your existence, to the degree of knowing which program you were in, seemed incredible.

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s so cool! The hero course is so busy, I don’t get a lot of chances to get to know people in other courses. Would you want to exchange numbers?”

Cheeks now practically burning, you nodded enthusiastically and pulled out your phone handing it to him, while Mirio did the same for you. You added yourself into his contacts and he added himself to yours.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Mirio grinned down eagerly at you. “We can hangout, I’d be more than happy to save you again.” Growing even more pleasantly flustered, you didn’t even notice when Mirio began to lean down, bringing his face closer and closer to yours. But you certainly noticed when he brushed his lips against your cheek, his lips soft and his kiss brief. And as you walked away, not seeing the way Mirio’s blue eyes burned into you, you couldn’t help but think about how wonderfully rare the encounter you just had was. It was like something out of a movie, a charming cliché come to life. It was almost too good to be true.

Please consider supporting me at my Ko-Fi account

168 notes · View notes

moonlightreal · 3 years

Text

Fate episode 4

Welcome back to Fate Elemental Academy! Or should I call it Fate: The Elemental Academy Saga? Fate: Tales From Elemental Academy? I kinda wish I had an actual following now, we could push changing the name all over the fandom. Fate’s a bad Winx show but it’s not a bad show.

When we left our cast Beatrix just murderized a dude, Terra was suffering, Musa was finding love, Stella was mysterious, Bloom was destiny-ridden and Aisha was getting bored with it all! What will happen now?

Also, is Rosalind evil? I assumed she was the “she” who got rid of all the Burned Ones and thus was a hero, but she’s got some serious resting evil face.

Episode 4 opens with a gorgeous shadowy shot of Alfea in the twilight of day twelve-ish I assume. In Dowling’s still badly lit office the adults are investigating Callan! Whose real name was Callum, I think, but he’s dead and so won’t mind what I call him. But Dowling says he hasn’t been seen “for days” so we’ll jump to it being day twentyish. They’ve searched Callan’s room and found “metal-amalgam” which seems to be mercury, which someone would use to try to get past the trap on the door to the undercroft. Harvey charmingly starts a lecture on its properties before realizing Silva and Dowling want to get on with the infordumping. Dowling says Callan wouldn’t have known about the mercury, it’s “archaic fairy knowledge” and he’s not a fairy.

But couldn’t anyone study the lore even if they don’t have powers? Dane was doing potions/chemistry in the greenhouse with Terra and he’s not a fairy. There’s usually some magic stuff that muggles can do just by having an enchanted thingamabob. Fate, your worldbuilding leaves much to be desired.

Silva guesses Callan had help. And Harvey’s made magical fingerprint mist! He’s got a pitcher on a stick and smoke is coming out to track the magic used in the room! Does that make Harvey a fairy?

The smoke outlines Callan’s vanished form, where he was sitting paralyzed before Beatrix zapped him.

Dowling: “At least we know where he went.”

Silva: “And that there’s a murderer in our school.”

The murderer herself is looking at her phone, scrolling through Bloom’s social media selfies. Bloom’s online name is bloomerang04 which is a dumb online name. Of course the fact that we pick our online name at age 15 or thereabouts means most of us have dumb ones. Riven asks B what she’s obsessing over and Beatrix says, “Your fault for spreading it around that she’s a changeling. She’s now the most interesting person at school.”

WHAT is it about changelings?!

Riven says everyone will move on in a few days and asks Beatrix if this is “one of those movies where you dye your hair and take her life...” and Beatrix looks… hmm.

Do I smell Plot or am I imagining it? But then Riven decides to claim Beatrix’s attention in smoochy ways and I’m pretty sure they’re Doing The Sex.

Opening!

In the cafeteria, people stare at Bloom as she gets her breakfast!

Aisha has taken over Callan’s job to snoop on what he knew! Bloom “suggested” she do it. Or more like, begged. And thought Aisha is such a suckup she’d do it just to get brownie points with the headmistress.

The vibe of this scene is like nails on a blackboard. Bloom, you are awful people. And Bloom wants to eat breakfast in here to avoid the stares because she’s a changeling.

Musa comes in cheerful, “Bloom still pretending she’s not upset by the gossip?”

Bloom: ‘still pretending you’re not dating your roommate’s brother?”

And Terra comes in right in time to almost hear that. Bloom, you are awful people. But Terra’s got her own gossip: Stella’s mom is coming! Stella is “dreading being outshined by her mom” and Terra is kinda loving it. For which I can’t entirely blame her since Stella is also awful people even if my suspicions are right and there are circumstances that made her that way.

Bloom tries to be non-awful and says the girls don’t have to come eat breakfast with her “like I’m some kind of loser-mess. I’m fine.” Friendship music plays. The girls smile. Then Bloom heads off to finish her “poison paper” before the assembly. Musa says, “For the record, she’s not fine.”

In the arched walkway above the cafeteria Riven, Dane and Beatrix and talking about changelings! B: ‘Changelings were a way for pissed-off fairies to get revenge on the first world. Swap a fairy for a First world baby and wait for it to wreak havoc. Changelings are bad news. That’s why we stay on their good side.”

One of the boys had asked about “is that true about changelings?” presumable Dane, since Riven knew enough to spread the truth around. So not everybody knew all this.

FINALLY! Thank you, show. And, this is neat! Those would have to be some very pissed-off fairies to sacrifice their own baby, what’d the first worlders do to them I wonder! Though it still doesn’t explain why Bloom should be “bad news” any more than any other fairy. Does growing up in the human world make for more powerful fairies? I mean, that IS the lore, human food, human milk, human soul… but did the writers of Fate know that? I’m not trusting the writers of Fate to know much of anything at this point, even if they did get all those Yeats episode titles.

But we get interrupted by teen drama, Dane sees Terra down below and goes to see her. Sigh.

But then to muddy the waters, riven says Dane “believed all that changeling bullshit you just fed him!” but B says it “isn’t all bullshit, changelings can be dangerous. You did everybody a favor.’ warning them about Bloom, I assume she means.

Show, I hate you now. WHY are changelings dangerous? What was true and what wasn’t? Bloom’s changeling nature is the central bleeping worldbuilding of this story and we get dragged around?

Next I see black SUVs, tell me it’s Silva and his army people coming to do cool competent stuff so I can like this show again!

Nope, it’s Stella’s mom. Stella and Sky are waiting to greet her, Sky says it’s only half a day and Stella says, “Half a day of everyone adoring her like she’s literally the sun.” Sky says, ‘She is the queen of light.” which is an awesome title. She’s here to do an assembly about Burned Ones… what, like those PSA assemblies we had about the dangers of drugs? Hahahaha! That kind of PSA might be more apt, I’m pretty sure there’s more drugs at this school than there are Burned Ones.

But Stella is terrified, I think, behind her Stellaishness. Says her mom is really here to “check on my progress.” Sky suggests getting the rest of the girls to be a buffer but Stella says, ‘I don’t need them. I have you.” But Sky can’t stay physically, he leaves Stella to meet her mom alone

Stella is wearing a long coat of pale pink with gold and diamond star barrettes in her hair. I would love it if at the end of Stella’s character arc when she grows past whatever it is that’s squeezing the life out of her, she’ll switch to bright bold colors and teenage rather than middle-age fashion to celebrate her freedom. At the moment it makes sense that she dresses rather dumpy and too-mature, she’s dressing under pressure.

The black cars, they’re not all SUVs, pull up. there’s a flag, faded blue above, red below split by a diagonal line with some kind of crest in the middle. Solarian flag? No yellow, no sun or moon.

Stella’s mom looks noting like Queen Luna, she looks like a middle aged lady with brown hair, her hairdo and clothing juuuuust like Stella’s! In season 8 the real Stella designed a dress after her mother’s gown out of love, but I think this Stella dresses like her mother because of pressure. Also there’s nothing queenly about the queen. She’s wearing a business skirt and jacket, big chunky necklace, no crown. Political royalty not magical royalty. She gives Stella a kiss on the cheek and says, ‘You look stunning.” and Stella grins.

In the greenhouse Harvey, Terra and Sam hang out. Where’s their mom? Harvey wears a wedding ring but no mom in sight. Harvey is working on a special project, filling a vial with something. Terra asks if she can help but Harvey says he’s got this.

Dane comes to see Terra. Both her family members give Dane a serious Look. Heh.

Terra: “Whilst I appreciate that it is the historical perspective of the patriarchy to save women from upsetting situations, I’ve got this.”

Props to Terra’s actress for delivering that in a not at all groan-y way. Every time this show tries to be woke it is groanworthy and awful and they should just not, but every time the actors pull it off.

So Dane says “You didn’t answer my texts… you’ve been really great to me...” and Terra shuts him down! “Yeah I have. I’m a good person, Dane. I think you are too, but I’m not really sure I care to find out. Anymore.” and leaves him with “A word of advice. Be careful who you trust.”

Sam: ‘Still kinda want to punch him.” Heh.

Harvey gets a text and takes his project off to meet the queen. When he’s gone Terra immediately goes to his workstation to check out what he’s up to.

The queens party goes to Callan’s office, which is now Aisha’s office. Aisha greets the queen, whose name is actually Luna! And she knows Aisha’s name, but does not need any help. The adults go into Dowling’s office to talk.

Aisha accidentally knocks some papers off the desk then, grumpy at this spying job she’s taken on and isn’t having any luck with, slams a filing cabinet door. And finds something. A mechanical ring the size of a jewelry ring, stuck in between two parts of the filing cabinet. Aisha thinks it’s part of the cabinet, but then it begins to whir and she hears voices. It’s the receiver for a bug! Callan bugged Dowling’s office and now Aisha can listen in on the adults!

Only she… hides the receiver back under the cabinet?

The only thing she overheard was the fact that Callan is dead. Seems that Dowling’s telling everyone he left for a family emergency. Aisha tells Bloom this and Bloom is even more keen to get at those old records, from before Dowling became headmistress. Maybe they’re in the east wing, and everyone’s going to be at this mandatory assembly so now would be the perfect time!

Aisha says it’s a bad idea. Bloom says it’s a better idea than getting stared at by everybody and “I can’t just sit and listen to people make stuff up about me.”

WHAT are they making up?! I wanna hear these rumors!

Anyway Aisha is finally convinced to cover for Bloom, say she was too sick to come to the assembly. But for reasons of Plot Beatrix was right above them on the upper walkway so she knows where Bloom’s off to.

Gorgeous outdoor shot of the castle. Pardon me while I look it up… it’s a stately home! You can go there, they have a farmers market and everything! Ok, mark that down on my travel list between my Lost Crown tour of Polperro and my Higurashi tour of the real Hinamizawa…

Whilst I dream of seagulls and cicadas, Bloom is back in the dark east wing past a keep-out looking for clues. Sky catches her!

Beatrix is outside looking for Bloom. Riven catches her. She says, ‘mandatory assembly’s a mandatory ditch.” they pass a keep-out sign on some big doors as rain begins to fall.

Mysterious big doors in the school! Another Winx Club sort of thing here at Elemental Academy.

In the cafeteria benches have been put in for the assembly, Lots of students chat and the adults talk together. Outside the arched windows we see bright blue sky. Are the windows enchanted? That’d explain why I never know if it’s day or night around here!

Queen Luna walks in her heels on a sort of stage in front of the windows. She holds up her hand and snaps her fingers and the light in the room goes purple and the sunlight streaming in from outside dims as if dusk has fallen outside.

Stella, wearing a brighter pink coat and double star pin, sits in the very front between two of her mother’s bodyguards. The pin could be just because of Stella’s name, but in Winx Solaria does have two suns. I like this pin, for Escape to Witch Mountain reasons, so I looked it up. Stella’s pin is gold but the silver version is… oh dear… three dollars on amazon! Methinks this show spent its whole budget on the Irish castle!

Terra and Aisha admire the queen. “Massively powerful fairy, zero ego, boss goals. Bet it drives Stella crazy?” Stella glances back. She can hear them.

Musa and Sam are knee-nudging each other, it’s pretty cute. They text with phones on laps, sam asking if Musa’s into all the sneaking around hiding their relationship from Terra. He asks, ‘is it a kink?’ and Musa texts back, ‘Meet me after the assembly, you’ll find out.” Tell me you two aren’t dumb enough to start Doing The Sex in the same suite Terra lives in too! Maybe they’re just gonna hang out and make out.

Hilariously Queen Luna is saying, ‘I’m here to treat you like the adults you are” as these two plot that most teenage of plots, meeting up to have a good time! Luna says she’s here to talk about the Burned Ones, it’s been years since one was sighted…

Terra nudges Musa. “What’s Stella going through right now? She’s miserable, right?” Terra has noticed what I’ve been suspecting! Poor Musa, distracted from flirting with the cute guy, sighs a little and says a polite, ‘Please wait.’

She turns her powers to read Stella’s emotions… but there’s interference. Dowling is walking by and she’s using her mind powers as well! Musa says, ‘This assembly isn’t just about the Burned Ones. Something else is up.” Harvey is standing in the audience and Dowling takes a position among the students also

Queen Luna is talking about, “...for decades, families and villages suddenly torn apart by one of these monsters that left our world in chaos...”

The teachers are here to scan for Callan’s killer, I assume. Since it’s a mandatory assembly every student will be present… except for Bloom and Beatrix, who ditched! Gee, I hope Beatrix doesn’t try to pin it on Bloom! But how could she when Dowling can read minds?

Back with Bloom and Sky, Bloom says she was born in 2004—the year Winx Club was first broadcast, seventeen years ago! Our beloved show, may it survive to see eighteen. Bloom’s idea is to look for pregnant teen fairies in the class photos, and she has oddly specific details to look for: baggy clothes, girls holding books in front of bellies.

There’s some conversation about how Bloom is tired of being whispered about and wants to yell at people they’re all assholes, and Sky agrees that most people are but you have to find the good ones.

Then he finds a picture of adults. His dad is in it, along with Rosalind, Dowling, Silva and Harvey. Bloom says, “you look like him” although we don’t really get a good look Andreas at the photo. Sky mimicks Silva’s accent, “And act like him, and maybe one day if I work hard enough I can be half the warrior he was.” Heh. Bloom also giggles at the accent.

Sky also said, ‘his commander was a woman” presumably Rosalind. So Rosalind was a leader of soldiers. Was she a fairy or a specialist?

Bloom asks if it’s weird that everyone knows his dad better than he did, and Sky says ‘Alfea’s been my home my entire life” so I guess he grew up here with Silva being much more father than mentor. Wonder what happened to Sky’s mom. They’re having a nice moment and here come Riven and Beatrix to join the party!

Back in the assembly, Musa scans the adults. Dowling and Silva are on edge, and Harvey is really scared. Terra says her dad was making something with the crystals from the vessel, so he was putting crystals in a little vial. A magic tracking device. Now Dowling’s got it.

Queen Luna is saying, ‘conflict is now on the horizon! We are tracking at least five Burned Ones throughout Solaria. The threat is serious. And growing.”

Back in the vaults B says, “people who think history is rubbish are rubbish. Don’t be rubbish” Ah Beatrix, there’s the like 10% of your personality that I like! Then she reverts to the other 90% and suggests Bloom and Sky were down here to have The Sex. Riven says nah, Sky’s not that interesting. Bloom, who heard all that, says ‘But we were alone and that was pleasant.” Heh.

They find a locked door. Sky says he can ask Silva what’s behind it but bloom wants to get through now.

Riven: ‘The more you say no the more she wants it. Give in.”

Beatrix: “Do we need to have a talk about consent?”

The more this show throws woke verbiage into random conversations the less woke it looks. 9_9

Bloom sensibly: “Why are you guys down here, again?”

Anyway Beatrix says she’s on Bloom’s side, which I do not believe for a minute. Bloom says no thanks, don’t need help from someone who posted a nasty video about terra, Beatrix says she was an innocent bystander which I do not believe for a minute, and says Bloom should be mad at riven for starting the Changeling rumors. Bloom and Sky look at Riven.

Riven: “Not exactly the way I thought you’d screw me today, B.”

Sky if it’s true, Riven flees to escape a lecture from “Saint Sky” and Sky goes after him to deliver the lecture.

And he does, out in the rain. Riven says he really likes Beatrix, that B is the only one who likes him the way he is. That Sky thinks he’s better than riven. And that Sky should maybe not be talking about bad life choices while he’s chasing Bloom while still having Stella. Sky says that’s not what’s really going on and Riven says that’s what everyone else sees, including Stella. And Riven says, ‘that’s probably why she told me Bloom was a changeling in the first place.” And he walks off, leaving Sky in the rain with the knowledge that Stella is mean-girling Bloom. Unsurprisingly.

Sky of Elemental Academy is having just as much trouble here as his animated counterpart keeps having with Diaspro!

Back inside the girls haven’t figured out what the adults are after. Terra finds it hard to believe they have “some big ulterior motive.” and Musa says, “people have more stuff going on than you’d think, especially parents.” Heh. Then she takes off for a snog session with Sam! Sam says he’s like to make their relationship public, but Musa likes the secrecy. If everyone found out, she’d have to feel everyone’s reaction, ‘good bad, positive or negative.” Sam says she has to feel it bu does she have to care? And says being an empath seems to suck, which it sure does seem to!

Would “everybody” even care that they were dating? I mean Terra would but at a school full of teenagers dating how many people would care?

I read a book… Burning Glass, about an empath so powerful that when a starving mob approached she let them in the gates because she forgot she wasn’t one of them, caught up in the mob’s need to get in to where the food was. She didn’t just feel people’s emotions, she acted on them because she couldn’t tell which of the things she was feeling were coming in from outside. I keep thinking the writers are trying to imagine Musa like that and failing completely.

Over in the east wing Beatrix guessed that it was Rosalind who left bloom in the human world and Bloom realized that Beatrix lied the night of the party about not knowing who Rosalind was. B says Rosalind was “a fierce bitch.” I’m still feeling this great big hole where someone should say “Rosalind destroyed the Burned Ones in the war with her great magic.” or something and nobody says it. Bloom knows Rosalind was headmistress before Dowling and is dead, we viewers know Rosalind is not dead, did something important with the Burned Ones, and has an evil face. I dunno, like the changeling thing it feels like there are these weird blanks in what the show is giving us.

Beatrix suggests Bloom light the locked door on fire as a way to get it open. She knows Bloom’s powerful enough. Bloom says power is not the problem, lighting the whole school on fire is the problem. Then sky texts and Bloom lies and says she’s not down here anymore which will definitely be back to bite her later. She suggests she could “fry” the hinges off the door, but Beatrix has already picked the lock.

With a machine custom made for picking locks, not with bobby pins.

On the other side of the door they find… a war room. A round sand pit that, when B enchants it, the sand lifts up to create a miniature of the school. Beatrix calls it, “A place where dangerous, shady-ass people decide who lives and who dies.”

Dowling is giving Stella a magic lesson. She creates an arc of colored light between her hands, mimicking the chains on her brooch.

Queen Luna is not impressed. A little mini rainbow is not much of a display of power. Luna and Dowling proceed to ignore Stella and talk over her head. Luna sent Stella back to be “fixed”--the same word Stella used about bloom after she taught Bloom the way of the Sith—after the “incident with Ricki.” Dowling says rehabilitating magic is a process and it takes time. Luna: “would you like me to recite the list of threats we’re facing while you take time?”

Me! I would! 1)Burned Ones 2)??? And how much can one fairy do about them?

Stella tries to interrupt and Luna says, “Do not speak when I’m speaking. Solaria is the strongest realm in the Otherworld, she is its heir, an extension of that strength.” Stella protests that it’s working, she is getting stronger, and her mother just snaps at her not to speak again.

Stella says she blinded a Burned One and Dowling has her back, praising her for how skillfully she did it.

Queen Luna makes a full illusion, disappearing the room and leaving Stella in a VR forest. With wind-howling sound effects, not sure how light did that! Stella is terrified.

Queen Luna: ‘when you control light you control what people see. And despite what anyone says matters in this world, appearance is everything. You know that better than anyone, Farah. Especially given my efforts to help you maintain them.”

Dowling just says they’ve both done a great deal to preserve Solaria’s reputation. Hmm! That’s interesting! And she lets Stella go.

Outside the office, Aisha is working at her desk. She asks Stella if she’s ok and Stella says of course she is, but Aisha’s using the listening device again! She overhears Queen Luna basically threatening to have Dowling removed as headmistress!

Outside in the still cloudy day, Sky is taking his mood out on a punching bag. He gets a text from Stella saying, “She’s a monster.” before Sky can go give her some much deserved sympathy Silva walks past demanding an update. On what?

In the greenhouse Harvey is worried. His magic bottle, which is very pretty, didn’t work. Terra comes to ask if everything’s ok and he yells at her, then apologizes. Terra turns to go then turns back and asks, ‘if there was something going on you would tell us wouldn’t you?” and Harvey lies and says of course he would.

Aaaaaaaand now I’m looking up potion bottles on amazon wondering if this prop is also something I can have. Not obviously.

Terra, Musa and Aisha are talking about it in the suite. Aisha is sure the grownups are doing what they think is best. Terra would rather just be told there’s a secret rather than be lied to. But they do work it out. The crystals read magic, there’s a dead person, the adults were looking for someone who kills by magic but didn’t find them.

Then Sky bursts in looking for Bloom. The girls ask if Silva told him what’s up, but Sky is out of the loop.

Terra: “Dowling’s assistant died, the faculty think a fairy did it. They held the assembly to find out which fairy, but they didn’t because he or she wasn’t there, so now we don’t believe or trust literally anyone.”

Sky: “Shit.”

Sky, smart cookie that he is, realizes immediately that it’s Beatrix.

The murderess and Bloom are reading scrolls in the war room—in the DARK, everything’s shadowy how are they even reading?

In 2004 Rosalind was “leading the crusade against the Burned Ones” Beatrix says so finally there’s that laid out.

Bloom was born December 12 2004, just like the real Bloom. Beatrix seems oddly interested in that fact. I’m beginning to have a suspicion.

Bloom’s phone is blowing up with messages but she’s busy reading. Beatrix stealth zaps bloom’s phone to break it so she doesn’t get Sky’s warning call.

Rosalind was in a place called Aster Dell. This also seems to interest Beatrix, who suggests they just go there right now. She knows where it is, it’s not far. Bloom has a rush of common sense to the head and hesitates to leave school with someone she barely knows but Beatrix points out that they’ve already broken into a secret war room and maybe now is not the time to stop before they get somewhere. Not completely without a point there, so Bloom agrees.

Sky finds Riven and demands the whereabouts of “The unstable sex addict who’s been leading you around by your dick.” Pfft! Also, not very understanding after Riven admitted he really does like Beatrix and feels accepted by her. But Riven doesn’t know, anyway.

Stella bursts in, “I sent you twenty texts and you’re here looking for Bloom?” And Riven gets to say, ‘Have fun with that!” as he escapes. Sky blames Stella for starting the changeling thing, Stella says, “I didn’t want to hurt her.” which is not true.

Sky: “You say you don’t want to be like your mother but all I see is someone who treats others exactly the same way that Luna treats you.” And he says he’s done with this.

Harsh but true.

Beatrix stole a car. Bloom is very impressed! Heh.

The other three girls have had a rush of common sense to the head and gone to Dowling to tell her about Beatrix. Dowling’s first response is to ask why Bloom was down there but Terra pulls out their deductions and says “can we please drop the bullshit?” and when her father tries to stop her she calls him out for putting them in danger by not telling them! Go Terra! Silva comes in to tell them someone knocked out one of the queen’s guards and stole an SUV.

Beatrix must be extremely badass to take out a bodyguard! we’re only in episode 4 but I don’t think she’s planning on coming back to school after this.

Black SUV drives on a dirt road between trees. I do love how there seem to be no other buildings and no paved roads in the Otherworld. I guess I’ll take what worldbuilding I can get.

Bloom and Beatrix have arrived at an absolutely stunning location, a cliff over the sea. Bloom wonders if this is the right place. Isn’t Aster Dell supposed to be a town? Then she realizes there are skulls at her feet among the heather.

But no time to ponder it, Beatrix is getting lightningy! She throws lightning—shorting out an invisible barrier concealing ruins. Aster dell was a peaceful town until it was attacked by Burned Ones and “a military unit from Alfea” decided to go all scorched earth on the place and killed everybody. Queen Luna set up the illusion to hide the ruins. “Leader of our realm tried to cover up a war crime.’

Beatrix says this is where she was from, and where her family died. Two days before Bloom’s birthday. This is where Bloom is from. Rosalind rescued Beatrix too, and gave her a memory of the Alfea adults destroying the town. Rosalind was the only one of the adults with a conscience about killing innocent people.

Bloom protests, the adults are lying but they aren’t monsters. I’m skeptical too, because us viewers know that Beatrix is Beatrix and has said all sorts of things.

On the drive back Bloom asks Beatrix if she’s a changeling too, but no. Rosalind left B with “a close friend” and Bloom in another world. Bloom asks why Dowling would recruit her as a student after killing her family and Beatrix says she doesn’t think Dowling realizes yet what Bloom is, and Bloom shouldn’t tell her.

Bloom: “Which is exactly what you’d say if you were making this up. To keep us from comparing notes.” go Bloom! Beatrix asks what she has to gain from making up a story about murderous teachers, and the two of them can work together to find out more. Rosalind is alive and imprisoned at Alfea, and Beatrix came to break her out.

...for “him”? Mysterious “him” not mentioned yet. And where does the return of the Burned Ones fit in? Hmm. I admit my main reason for not believing Beatrix’s story is that it’s Beatrix telling it.

Also in these sorts of stories the birth parents are never dead.

But no time to ponder it, the teachers are here! They stop the car, Dowling slaps some magical cuffs on Beatrix and Silva and Harvey grab Bloom. They deliver her back to Alfea into a group hug from her suitemates.

The girls were worried that Bloom was off with a murderer but they heard that from the adults who Bloom just heard are liars and murderers themselves. We know the adults are telling the truth about Callan but Bloom doesn’t. Sky is there, also worried that she’d been kidnapped by Beatrix—but Silva calls him away. Paranoia intensifies.

As they head for bed Terra rants about her dad lying to her and acting like it was for her own good. Terra ends with, ‘you don’t lie to people. Not if they matter.’

And Musa feels guilty and spills the beans about her and Sam! It’s been weeks! Terra bursts into giggles and hugs Musa and says Sam looks just like their dad and he went bald early.

Looking down from the walk they see the queen’s guards rolling Stella’s suitcases towards the door. The one thing the two Stella’s have in common apparently is their love of lots of luggage! Yep, Stella’s been moved out.

Stella is in the car. Back home her mother will teach her.

Stella: “You could’ve let me say goodbye to my friends.”

Luna: ‘”They’re not your friends, Stella.”

Which, evil mum kinda right. Apart from taking out a Burned One together, every interaction between Stella and the others has been nasty and catty and mostly Stella’s been avoiding them whenever possible. They aren’t friends. They might be later, but they sure aren’t yet.

Beatrix has been thrown in a cell.

Silva locks the door—with Sky there watching, and I’m sure Silva’s trust in Sky will come back to bite him later.

Then interesting conversation. Silva asked Sky to keep an eye on Bloom, and now he wants Sky to get all the details of what just happened out of bloom and report back. Silva actually says the “a soldier’s job is to take orders” and “your loyalty is to me, no one else.” which, I like you Silva but that is the wrongest tack you could take right now! Silva is very scared and it’s making him make bad choices.

Bloom has gone to Dowling’s office to ask what she did to Beatrix. The cuffs were “runic limiters” which prevent a fairy from using magic. Bloom says ‘They were barbaric” and “You tore her skin open.” which I guess the cuffs did kinda burrow into her skin.

Dowling is just worried if Bloom’s ok and then asks what they talked about. Bloom says it was just a joyride, she and Beatrix talked about clothes and boys. Bloom leaves.

Dowling immediately phones up Bloom’s parents on Earth and says Bloom’s been having a bit of trouble and would they please report to her if Bloom says anything weird.

Sheesh. Could these otherwise smart, capable adults who have years of experience with teenagers be handling this any worse?

Well that was… something. Terra is badass. Stella’s mom is exactly like I expected her to be. Beatrix spilled a lot of important Plot and I’m sure some of it was true and some of it wasn’t.

Next time on Elemental Academy! Will the girls rescue Stella from evil mum? Will Bloom bust Beatrix out of the dungeon? Will Sky be forced to choose between his father figure and his crush? Will Bloom’s parents accidentally betray her? And what’s Riven gonna do now that his smoking and boinking buddy is under arrest? Half the cast is being set up to make some really dumb life choices! Tune in next time!

#fate the winx saga

2 notes · View notes

wewillwriteyou · 4 years

Text

Crazy Little Thing Called Love || Chapter 1

Prologue

➴Meet the characters [part 1]

A few elements from the main plot: A fine line falls between fiction and reality: what starts as a musical slowly becomes a game-changer. Tables will turn and it will get clear as the sun that the only unstoppable power in life ... is love.

Summary Chapter 1: Alexandra arrives at the campus, while Joe has already bumped into high gear for his drama’s course project but he knows he can count on Elizabeth and Denise’s help.

Word count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Some language here and there

A/N: The time has finally come and we couldn't be happier to share this first chapter with you! We do hope you’re all going to enjoy this story and don’t hesitate to let us know what you think about it! Love you, folks 🖤 xxx

Sunday, 29 September 2019

“Are you sure this will solve all my problems?” “Trust me, Princess: follow the East’s path and in the cave where the sun never sets you’ll find all the magic you’ll need”

Magic!

Freddie’s voice perfectly screamed in Alex’s headphones and she suddenly woke up. Her neck was hurting and she could feel pins and nibbles trespassing every bone of her spine.

She stretched her back and yawned, before turning off the music and checking the hour on her phone. She had been travelling on that damned bus for two hours and a half, but to her “out of whack body” it felt like an eternity.

Alex rubbed her eyes once or twice, before diverting her attention to the countryside outside the window: fields, fields and again, fields. She sighed and abandoned her back against the uncomfortable seat.

An hour. You can survive for an hour.

She repeated to herself, mostly to convince her tired body that sixty minutes more on that bus weren’t actually hell on earth.

All of a sudden, her phone rang and the name “MOM” appeared on the screen. Alex smiled and picked the call up.

“Sweetie! Where are you?” her mother’s voice was so loud that the two old people sat on the two seats in front of Alex turned around. She politely smiled and heard them mumble something, that made her roll her eyes.

“Hi. I’m probably lost somewhere in the East’s fields” she sighed, abandoning her head against the window of the bus.

“But you should be almost there, right?” her tone didn’t hide her preoccupation and that made the girl giggle a little.

“I guess I’ll arrive in less than an hour – she said, before looking around to make herself sure nobody could hear her – but let’s admit that traveling with this bus company surely wasn’t the best idea we have had” she then added, lowering her voice as much as she could.

Her mother chuckled and, after a few more recommendations, she said goodbye to her and Alex soon found herself alone again. Or at least, her only company was the thousands of thoughts that were clouding her mind.

Clouded as much as the sky above her head.

***

“Is he really going to do this?” Denise was laying on the bed, with her legs up against the wall and her head upside down, dangling from the mattress, and her braided hair nearly touching the floor.

Elizabeth nodded “He is… He’s even more convinced after Gwilym told him nobody had ever been able to impress Professor Cattleman. He has every intention of being the first one to do it…” she suffocated a chuckle “You know that when Joe fixates on something, there’s nothing and no one that can dissuade him”

Denise chuckled along, “I know, I know…” she picked up her phone from the nightstand and mindlessly scrolled through Instagram “Has he cast someone yet?”

The girl shook her head as she carefully browsed through the paper sheets she was trying to organize on her desk.

“The auditions are tomorrow, if you’re interested” she winked without turning around and Denise started to cackle.

“Thanks, but no thanks. Not my scene…”

“You don’t need to act if you don’t feel like it… You could always provide visual effects…” Elizabeth suggested and the other girl cackled again.

“Why do you want me so bad to participate?”

Elizabeth finally turned around, her auburn ponytail following the movement of her head and giving it all a sense of theatricality.

“You dare ask me why!? Because we can use all the help we can get!” she tried her best Joe impression and made the other girl laugh out loud and roll on her side.

Elizabeth grinned “It was good, wasn’t it?”

Denise nodded, still shaking from laugher “You’re getting better. If he writes a character based on him, I’ll make sure the part is yours”

Now it was the time for the redhead to laugh. She clapped her hands together and pretended to be surprised “Really?!? I’d be honored to play the illustrious Joseph Mazzello in a play”

“Did someone mention my name in vain?” the door opened in that instant and Joe made his entrance, a stack of paper under his arm and three hot coffees on a tray in the other hand.

“Speaking of the Devil…” Elizabeth uttered, making Denise chuckle again. She then turned to the boy next to her “We’re always talking about you. You’re a hot topic in our daily conversations”

He flipped her off, then proceeded to hand her a coffee and then sit on the bed next to Denise, who had rolled to sit up straight in the meanwhile. He handed her the coffee as well and started sipping his own.

“So Dennis,” Joe began, immediately regretting the two words that had just fallen out of his lips. Elizabeth facepalmed and Denise half laughed.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” he muttered, shutting his eyes and shaking his head in embarrassment.

Denise lightly patted him on the shoulder “That’s okay, Joe” she said, “everyone has a hard time getting used to it…”

Joe looked at her “Yeah, but they shouldn’t. I’m really sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.”

The girl gave him a little smile, “Thanks, but that really is okay… I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

He nodded and sighed, “Changing subject from this awkward and want-to-bury-myself-in-the-ground moment,” he said “I had something to ask you, my friend”

He turned in her direction and Denise mirrored him, smiling widely. They were sitting so close her knee was almost touching his and she could feel electricity running through her spine. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt that. Even before the operation and the huge change in her life, Denise had always felt like melting into a puddle when Joe was around. And at that moment, even after the awkwardness that’d happened, he could have asked her to climb on top of the building and she probably would have done it.

She gestured him to continue as she sipped on her coffee. He did.

“I was wondering… you study Design and Visual Arts, right?”

“Well done Columbus, you’ve discovered America” Elizabeth said, still immersed in her papers and trying to lift off the tension Joe had – involuntarily – created.

“Oh fuck off, Liz, don’t you have a paper to read?” he said mindlessly, earning a – well deserved – middle finger from the girl.

He turned back to the girl sitting beside him, “Do you think you could provide me some unused panels? I was thinking of how to set up the scene on stage and I was wondering if you’re interested in taking care of that part…”

Denise cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Elizabeth, who was openly smirking and still reading.

“Did you two talk beforehand?” she asked.

Joe furrowed his eyebrows “About what? We’re together every minute of every day. We talk about lots of stuff…”

“About these visual effects…” she added.

Joe shook his head “No I thought about it while I was at the cafeteria… I came here to tell you guys” he moved his eyes from one to the other “Then I made a fool of myself by misgendering her, and then here we are”

The two girls laughed and Joe smiled lightly, happy to be getting back to normality.

Elizabeth was still smirking against her hand and Denise wondered how they did that… They were always on the same page, like they had one mind, and were often able to complete each other’s sentences. She wondered how could it be so easy for them to understand each other. They were not siblings, they weren’t dating, they were just great friends with this natural, effortless chemistry.

Whilst her huge crush for Joe barely allowed her to behave like a normal person around him.

“Why?” Joe asked.

She shook her head “No reason… I’d be glad to help you; I’ll see what I can do”

Joe’s face lit up and he bent over to hug her, making her heart jump in her chest “Thank you so much, Den, I’ll text you all the details later…” he got up to throw his empty cup in the trash can near Elizabeth’s desk and leaned on the table “Do you have something to do today?” he asked the redhead.

Elizabeth turned her head in his direction “Tons of things. What do you want?”

Joe tried out his best puppy eyes “Will you help me set up the stage for tomorrow?”

Liz rolled her eyes “I can’t Joe, I have to finish rating this for the Student’s Counsel and then my new roommate’s gonna come and I’ll have to show her around… I really can’t today”

Joe kneeled beside her, propping his elbows on the arm of her chair joining his hands. Elizabeth was trying to ignore him and focusing on her reading, a cheeky grin on her lips.

You won’t have it your way this time, Mazzello, she thought and yet she knew way too well how these things went. She had known him for way too long to not know exactly his moves. She just had fun teasing him.

Joe sighed heavily and theatrically and she snorted “Fine! I’ll see what I can do…”

“That’s my girl” Joe jumped up and Elizabeth turned around to smack him on the arm “Hey! What was that for?”

She scrolled her shoulders “Just felt like it… Now please let me finish this before the new girl arrives!”

She got up from her chair and gently pushed him towards the door, “Thanks for stopping by, now go…”

“So this is the treatment I receive after bringing you free coffee, huh?”

“Yeah yeah, thank you doofus, now piss off” Liz closed the door behind him and spun around to lean on it, closing her eyes and chuckling. He’s a helpless cause, she thought to herself, what would you do without me, Joseph?

Denise just smiled at her, a teeny tiny bit of jealousy stinging her heart.

***

“Yes, can you please be careful? It’s – Alex was saying to the bus driver, but the man completely ignored her words and almost threw her precious guitar on the ground – fragile” she mumbled.

With a loud, angry sigh, the girl bent down to recollect all her stuff that the gentleman had so patiently left on the grass near the big, iron gates of her new college. She reserved one last disappointed gaze to the bus that was now driving away, before turning on her heels ready to face a new life’s chapter.

Sure, walking with a big bag hanging from her shoulder, the guitar in her right hand, while she was dragging a heavy suitcase with the other one, wasn’t what Alex would have described as a beautiful experience. But it was definitely an experience.

The edifice was stately, looking like an old castle. The garden was green and, even if that autumnal morning it was full of brown leaves and little puddles then and there, Alex was ready to bet it looked fabulous during spring and summer.

After a few more struggling steps, she reached the entrance and, pushing the door with her back, she finally entered the building. The hall was exactly as she had imagined it: big, bright and full of students. It actually resembled one of those rich hotel’s halls, with a big counter in the front and a few armchairs in each angle of the room.

“Hi!” a friendly voice rang from behind Alex’s shoulder. She turned around to see a tall, skinny boy smiling at her. The girl was confused, to say the least, and she must have had a strange expression all over her face because the boy laughed a little bit as he approached her.

He had short, brown hair and a pair of crystalline eyes. A tiny bit of beard completed the look, well-matched with the college’s uniform he was wearing.

“Aren’t you Elizabeth’s new roommate?” he asked, pointing his index finger to her figure.

“Yes – Alex vaguely answered – and you are?”

“Oh, I’m Gwilym. Gwilym Lee, a friend of Liz. I’m in the welcoming committee for new students” he extended his long arm to shake Alex’s hand and, with a smile, she accepted his offer and let her fingers wrap themselves with his.

“I am Alexandra Piper, nice to meet you”

“The pleasure is mine. Do you need some help?” Gwilym giggled, indicating the bag, the guitar and the suitcase that surrounded Alex. She softly laughed and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sure that is a great physical exercise, carry all these stuff all alone, but I won’t lie: a pair of other hands won’t be bad at all” she said, letting her elbow rest on the handle of the luggage.

“You’re funny – the boy commented with a smile, while with a fluid movement he put the bag on his shoulder – you and Elizabeth will surely get along very well”

Alex followed Gwilym through what it seemed an infinite number of corridors and she mentally thanked every god up above, because without his help, she would have never found the dormitory.

“Here we are – he announced, stopping himself in front of a door with the number eight-nine-six hung on it – now I have to go, but I’m sure Elizabeth is already inside waiting just for you” the boy proudly added leaving the bag on the floor.

“Thank you so much, Gwil. Can I call you Gwil right?” Alex cheekily asked, smirking a little. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he repeatedly nodded.

“Sure you can. And, I assume I can call you Alex” Gwilym curved the angle of his mouth, just enough to give the girl a flirtatious smile, while he started to walk down the hallway. Alex smiled to herself, and when she turned her head in his direction she saw he was already looking at her.

“Your assumptions are correct” she grinned back. Gwilym nodded one last time, before waving his hand in the air and disappearing behind the corner.

Alex smiled one last time, before taking a deep breath. She faced the door for some seconds more, before finally raising her arm and let her knuckles knock against the wooden surface.

Muffled voices and indistinct noises came from inside the room and sooner as Alex expected, two smiley girls appeared in front of her.

“Alexandra!” a reddish-haired girl jumped in her arms, hugging her tight.

“Don’t mind her, she’s crazy” the dark-skin girl commented, leaning her shoulder against the door’s frame. Alex chuckled and patted on what she understood being Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Oh shut up, Didi. ‘m gonna quote the buzz kill behind me: don’t mind her, she’s boring – the redhead joked, breaking the hug and looking into Alex’s eyes – I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz”

“Alex - the girl replied, extending her arm to shake her hand, then she pointed to the buzz kill – nice to meet you, too!”

“Denise. And the pleasure is mine”

“Love your hair, by the way” Alex immediately commented, indicating the long, purple braids that adorned Denise’s head. The proudest expression drew itself on the girl’s face, as she looked over Alex’s shoulders where an annoyed Elizabeth was puffing.

“Thank you! Finally, someone with taste has entered this old, close-minded place full of blind people – Denise theatrically said, walking closer to Elizabeth who was looking at her with raised eyebrows – good luck with this one, Alex. See you later, girls” she then added, walking down the hallway and waving her hand in the air.

“I can’t with her – Liz chuckled, before giving all her attention to Alex – I’m all yours now! Let me help you with your stuff!” she said, already lugging her suitcase inside the bedroom.

The room was pretty small, but all the furniture was well placed creating enough space for two people to comfortably live together. There was even a tiny, private bathroom and the window opened to the garden.

“Not bad” Alex commented, nodding to herself as she followed Liz inside, closing the door behind her back.

“I’m glad you lik- oh my God! Do you play guitar?” Elizabeth cut herself off when she noticed the instrument that Alex had just deposited on the floor. The brunette laughed, taking her beloved baby and putting it on the empty bed.

“Yes, I forgot to mention it in the mail of presentation – she said, opening the case finally revealing the wooden guitar to Liz’s adoring eyes – I attended music courses since I was very young, because my father is a conductor”

“Wow! Can I touch it? – Liz shyly questioned and didn’t hesitate to extend her hand after Alex had nodded – I mean, you told me you’re studying at the conservatory, but I couldn’t imagine you were also a guitarist”

Alex giggled and caressed the back of her neck.

“Well, actually, I can also play the piano, the bass and, even if at a beginner’s level, drums” she was visibly blushing, mostly because of the admired gaze Elizabeth was giving her.

“We should go, then! Can’t wait to show you the auditorium and the entire music section of our college!” the redhead announced, taking Alex’ hand to guide her outside and drag her down the corridor.

The two almost stumbled on the stairs and basically trampled an entire row of students who were waiting in line to buy something at the vending machines.

But Elizabeth was too excited to stop, even to care about it, and Alex soon found herself flooded with a literal sea of information about anything and everything. She was sure she would have not remembered half of the things she was being told, but Liz reassured her.

“The only really important places are the cafeteria and, well, for you, in particular, the auditorium, which is where we’re going now”

“You’re aware that your college is a bloody labyrinth, right?” Alex joked, following Elizabeth around and trying to imprint inside her mind some strategic points that could help her to re-find the way.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it sooner than you think. It’s not that difficult once you understand that, basically, ninety percent of the classrooms are unused or useless or too old and that teachers' fun is to watch us arrive late to class because they love putting a lesson here, in the music wing, and the other one in the science department”

Alex giggled and scrolled her shoulders, then thanked Liz who was keeping the door open for her.

“Wow – the brunette let out, as soon as they entered the auditorium – this is indeed bigger than the one we had in my old college!” she said in excitement, spied by Elizabeth proud and gloating eyes.

“Look! A piano!”

“No, there’s no way I’m going to play it right now” Alex immediately said, but Liz was already running towards the instrument. Once she had reached it, she started to make persuasive gestures that had all the intention to be an invitation.

Alex burst out laughing and shook her head, knowing she stood no chance. She sighed and walked in her direction.

“Move” she firmly said, but with amusement in her voice. Elizabeth giggled and clapped her hands before positioning herself on the other part of the piano, leaned against it with her elbows.

Her fingers were trembled in anticipation, as she let them slightly touch the black and white keys, ready to make them sing.

But, as her index finger was about to press a C –

“Liz! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Joe shouted bursting into the auditorium, basically running to reach the two girls.

“I’ve had an amazing idea for the comedy. Hi – he nonchalantly said to Alex, but when he noticed she was new he stopped himself and snapped his head in her direction again – hi! Oh, nice to meet you! I’m Joseph, well for you Joe”

“Hi Joe, I’m Alexandra. For you Alex” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

“I like your humor – he winked at her and then pointed straight to Liz – idea. Big idea. The comedy becomes a musical. I just need a couple of students who can sing and play instruments and … “ he froze.

“And what? – Elizabeth asked while Alex’s eyes were jumping from one face to another as if she was witnessing a tennis game – you know I’m scared when you think too much” she added, putting a hand on her hip.

But Joe was still immersed inside his mind, until he slowly rotated towards Alex indicating her with his finger.

“Do you play the piano?” Joe scanned every single word as a light bulb was almost visible as it lighted itself up, above his head.

“Ehm … yes?” Alex answered, hesitant and confused.

“You’re in! – he snapped his fingers and headed to the exit again – ah, Liz, you were useless. As always” then smugly grinned, starting to walk away again.

“Oh fuck off, Joseph” Elizabeth talked back, but her tone was cracked by chuckles. When the door closed behind Joe’s back, Alex looked up at Liz, who couldn’t help but laugh in front of the question mark that was her face at that moment. She flipped her hand in the air and commented:

“Forget him, he’s a weirdo”

Chapters: next ⤑

A/N: Hi folks! We are so excited to share with you this first chapter! Here, you’ll get the chance to meet some of the main characters and we hope you’ll love them just as much as we do. Hope you’ll like it folks and if you do, please do not hesitate to tell us! Like, comment, reblog and share!

Cheers lovesies

Tag List: @littledarlingwellaway - @petriwhore - @bohemiandelilah - @misshystericalqueen - @loki-lover095 - @inthelapofthe39 - @starsoflovingness-wq - @minetticatinwonderland - @cairdes20 - @friendswillbefriendsblog - @o-holynight - @trash-record-collection - @please-stop-me-now - @theappleofmybri - @imgonnabeyourslave - @babygotblueeyes - @mi55chanandlerbong - @deaky-with-a-c - @luckytrashgooprebel - @thosequeenboys - @rogahs-drowse - @rogerismyfairyking - @killer-qu33n-of-disaster - @sunshine112 - @a19103 - @queenlover05 - @modymody99 - @bensrhapsody - @peterwandaparker - @sjeunhaelover

28 notes · View notes