#as i navigate through this new world of trying to figure out how to flourish as myself

[mirisss]

Heartfelt Choices Gunwook arc

wordcount ≈ 8.5k

warnings: bullying, bruises,

pairing: ZB1 Park Gunwook x afab! Reader

Thank you for the request!

A stand-alone fic from this post, does not reference the original at all

The halls of Daehyun High School echoed with the usual chatter of students, the rhythmic tapping of footsteps, and the occasional laughter that permeated the air. Among the bustling crowd, one figure stood out—Park Gunwook. Tall and strikingly handsome, he moved through the sea of students with an easy confidence that drew both admiration and envy.

In the heart of the school, in a quieter corner, was (Y/n), a shy and reserved girl who often went unnoticed. Her days were spent navigating the halls with her head down, avoiding eye contact, and keeping to herself. She had resigned herself to the shadows, finding solace in the company of books and the quiet corners of the library.

One day, a surprising announcement rippled through the school corridors. Park Gunwook, the charismatic heartthrob, had joined the girls' dance team. The news spread like wildfire, and soon, the once-overlooked dance team found themselves in the spotlight. The whole school began to take notice, and their performances became the talk of the town.

What many didn't know was the reason behind Park Gunwook's unexpected decision. Unlike the rumors that painted him as a conceited heartbreaker, he had a side to him that few had glimpsed—a kind and genuine soul that thrived on helping others.

As the dance team flourished, there was one student who remained on the periphery of the excitement—(Y/n). Unbeknownst to her, her life was about to take an unexpected turn. The school administration, recognizing her academic struggles, decided to assign her a tutor. And who better for the job than Park Gunwook, the embodiment of both brains and charm?

On a quiet afternoon, (Y/n) found herself seated in the school library, nervously flipping through the pages of her textbook. The door creaked open, and in walked Park Gunwook, his smile illuminating the room. The contrast between their worlds couldn't have been more stark—his popularity, her invisibility—but fate had woven their paths together.

"Hey there, (Y/n), right?" Park Gunwook greeted her with a warm smile, pulling up a chair beside her. Little did they know, this tutoring session would mark the beginning of a story that would rewrite the narratives of both their lives.

"(Y/n), right?" Park Gunwook repeated with a friendly grin, confirming her identity. His eyes, warm and welcoming, met hers, and (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise. How did he know her name?

"Yeah, that's me," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The shy girl adjusted her glasses nervously, her eyes flitting between the open textbook and the charming boy who now sat beside her.

"I'm Park Gunwook. Your tutor," he said, as if stating the obvious, but his tone was filled with genuine enthusiasm. He pulled out a notebook and a pen, ready to dive into the world of academia.

(Y/n) blinked, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. She had expected a tutor, but she hadn't expected someone like Park Gunwook. The guy who had brought life to the once-overlooked dance team and was adored by the entire school was now here to help her.

"Why me?" she blurted out before she could filter her thoughts. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she immediately looked down at her textbook, regretting her sudden outburst.

Park Gunwook chuckled, a sound that was both friendly and reassuring. "Well, I heard you could use a little help, and I thought, why not? I'm not just about dance and looks, you know. I'm pretty good with academics too."

He spoke with a casual confidence that made (Y/n) feel at ease. It was evident that he wasn't here out of obligation but genuine willingness to assist. As they began to delve into the subject matter, (Y/n) discovered that Park Gunwook's intelligence matched his kind nature. He patiently explained concepts, answered her questions, and made learning feel less like a chore.

Park Gunwook couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration as he sat across from (Y/n) in the quiet library. His initial decision to tutor her had been fueled by a desire to help, but now, as they delved into the intricacies of the subject matter, he found himself captivated by more than just academics.

Her determination to understand the concepts, the furrow of her brow when faced with a challenging problem, and the way her eyes lit up with comprehension—each aspect of (Y/n)'s learning process intrigued him. He appreciated her effort, her genuine curiosity, and the unassuming beauty that emanated from her quiet presence.

As they worked through the material, he couldn't help but notice the subtle transformation in her demeanor. The initial shyness began to give way to a growing confidence, and the reserved girl before him seemed to bloom with newfound assurance.

"You're catching on quickly," Park Gunwook complimented, a sincere smile playing on his lips. "I knew you had it in you."

(Y/n)'s cheeks flushed at the praise, and she managed a small, grateful smile. The atmosphere between them became more relaxed, and the library, once a place of silent solitude, echoed with the soft hum of conversation.

After the tutoring session with Park Gunwook, (Y/n) couldn't wait to share her experiences with her two closest friends, Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo. The trio had known each other since childhood, their friendship enduring through the ups and downs of adolescence. As vibrant and sweet as they were, Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo were the anchors in (Y/n)'s life, providing support and companionship in a world that often felt overwhelming.

Spotting Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo near the school courtyard, (Y/n) waved to get their attention. The two boys turned, their faces breaking into warm smiles upon seeing their friend approach.

"Hey, (Y/n)!" Mun Junghyun called out, his energetic demeanor infectious.

"Hey, guys!" (Y/n) greeted, a subtle excitement lingering in her voice.

Ji Yunseo, always the calm and collected one, observed her with a knowing look. "You seem different today. Something good happened?"

A shy smile played on (Y/n)'s lips as she recounted the tutoring session with Park Gunwook. She shared the surprising news of him being her tutor and how, beyond the initial awkwardness, the experience had been unexpectedly enjoyable. Mun Junghyun's eyes lit up with curiosity, while Ji Yunseo nodded approvingly.

"That's awesome, (Y/n)! Who would've thought Park Gunwook would be so nice?" Mun Junghyun exclaimed.

"Yeah, he's not just a pretty face. Turns out, he's a great tutor too," (Y/n) replied, a newfound confidence evident in her words.

The trio continued their conversation, discussing everything from school gossip to weekend plans. As they walked together, (Y/n) felt a sense of belonging and comfort that only true friends could provide. Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo, with their vibrant personalities, added color to her world, making even the ordinary moments feel special.

Little did they know that the dynamics of their friendship were about to shift. Park Gunwook's presence in (Y/n)'s life would not only bring academic improvement but also new connections and unexpected adventures. The quiet girl who had once lingered on the fringes of the school's social scene was now stepping into the light, supported by the unwavering friendship of Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo and guided by the unexpected bond with Park Gunwook.

After the tutoring session with (Y/n), Park Gunwook was eager to share the details with his best friend, Lee Jeonghyeon. The two had been inseparable since childhood, navigating the highs and lows of life together. As they met up at their favorite hangout spot, a small café near the school, the aroma of coffee filled the air.

"Jeonghyeon, you won't believe what happened today!" Gunwook exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he took a seat across from his best friend.

Jeonghyeon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Spill it, Gunwook. What's got you so excited?"

"I've got a tutoring gig," Gunwook began, leaning in with an air of mystery. "But it's not just any tutoring. I'm helping out this girl named (Y/n). She's cute, shy, and absolutely brilliant."

Jeonghyeon chuckled at his friend's animated description. "A shy genius, huh? Sounds like an interesting combo. How did you end up tutoring her?"

Gunwook went on to recount the story, from the unexpected assignment by the school administration to the quiet library sessions with (Y/n). He painted a picture of a girl with untapped potential, someone he found intriguing beyond the academic context.

"And you won't believe it, Jeonghyeon, she's friends with Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo. Our worlds are colliding in the most unexpected way!" Gunwook laughed, the excitement contagious.

Jeonghyeon leaned back, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. "Well, it sounds like you've got your hands full, my friend. But hey, who knew the heartthrob Park Gunwook would become the academic savior for a shy genius?"

Gunwook rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, stop it. It's not like that. She just needed some help, and I figured, why not?"

His best friend grinned mischievously. "Sure, Gunwook. 'Just helping out.' We'll see how this tutoring thing unfolds. Who knows, maybe this (Y/n) will be more than just a student. Maybe she'll be the plot twist in the heartthrob's life."

Gunwook laughed, shaking his head. "You watch too many dramas, Jeonghyeon. But who knows? Life has a way of surprising us."

Friday arrived with an air of excitement, anticipation, and a flurry of activities. The upcoming dance competition featuring Gunwook, Jeonghyeon, and the dance team had become the talk of the school. The hallways buzzed with discussions about the event, and the anticipation reached a fever pitch.

(Y/n) had initially planned to spend the evening quietly, perhaps catching up on some reading or working on assignments. The prospect of a crowded auditorium didn't appeal to her introverted nature. However, Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo had other plans.

"(Y/n), you can't miss this! Gunwook and the dance team have been practicing so hard. It's going to be amazing!" Mun Junghyun exclaimed, practically dragging her by the arm.

Ji Yunseo joined in, offering a persuasive smile. "Come on, (Y/n). It'll be a fun night out. Plus, we can cheer for Gunwook together!"

Reluctantly, (Y/n) found herself being pulled into the enthusiastic orbit of her friends. As they entered the bustling auditorium that evening, the energy was palpable. The seats were filling up fast, and the anticipation hung thick in the air.

The stage lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of the competition. The dance team took their positions, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. The performance began, a dazzling display of skill, choreography, and passion. Gunwook moved with a grace that transcended the typical expectations of a high school dance competition, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

As (Y/n) watched from her seat, something stirred within her. The rhythmic beats, the synchronized movements, and the collective energy of the audience created an atmosphere she hadn't expected. Her reserved self couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

By the time Gunwook and the dance team finished their performance, the auditorium was filled with thunderous applause. Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo were on their feet, cheering with unrestrained enthusiasm. Even (Y/n) found herself clapping, a small smile gracing her face.

After the competition, amidst the celebratory chaos, Gunwook spotted (Y/n) in the crowd. A genuine smile lit up his face, and he made his way toward her.

"(Y/n)! You came! What did you think?" he asked, enthusiasm evident in his voice.

"It was... impressive," she replied, her reserved nature softening as she met his gaze. "You guys were really good."

Gunwook beamed with gratitude. "Thanks! I'm glad you came. Maybe we can celebrate with the team after this. What do you say?"

With Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo joining the conversation, the impromptu celebration plans took shape. Little did (Y/n) know that this unexpected Friday night outing would mark the beginning of more shared moments, blurring the lines between her quiet world and the vibrant, dynamic life of Park Gunwook and his friends.

As (Y/n) stood amidst the post-performance excitement, she couldn't shake off the shock of Gunwook spotting her in the crowd. The fact that he had not only noticed her presence but had invited her and her friends to celebrate with the dance team left her pleasantly surprised.

While the group made their way backstage to join the celebration, (Y/n) couldn't help but steal glances at Gunwook. The stage lights had highlighted his features during the performance, but up close, she noticed the subtle beads of sweat on his forehead and the genuine joy in his eyes.

As they mingled with the dance team and the energy of celebration filled the air, (Y/n) found herself drawn into the lively atmosphere. Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo chatted animatedly with the dancers, sharing laughter and congratulations. Meanwhile, Gunwook took a moment to approach (Y/n).

"Thanks for coming, (Y/n). I'm really glad you're here," he said with a warm smile on his face.

"Oh, um, yeah. It was great," she stammered, her heart racing more than she'd like to admit.

Gunwook chuckled, seemingly at ease. "You know, you should come to more events like this. The school has a lot of exciting stuff going on. Plus, it's always better with friends."

Friends. The word lingered in the air, and (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder if the connection she felt with Gunwook was evolving into something beyond the roles of tutor and student.

As the celebration continued, (Y/n) found herself enjoying the company of Gunwook and his friends. The initial shyness began to fade, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. She laughed at their jokes, shared in their triumphs, and, in the process, discovered a side of herself that she hadn't fully explored before.

By the end of the night, as they said their goodbyes, (Y/n) couldn't deny the flutter in her heart. Gunwook's invitation to future events echoed in her mind, and the realization hit her—it wasn't just about the dance competition or the celebration. There was something about Park Gunwook that had sparked a warmth within her, a connection that went beyond the textbooks and tutoring sessions.

Gunwook's popularity had always been a constant in the halls of Daehyun High School. His charm, good looks, and talent made him the subject of admiration for many girls. However, despite the attention, Gunwook had always maintained a friendly but distant demeanor, never reciprocating the feelings of those who harbored crushes on him.

When the whispers began circulating about Gunwook's newfound interest in (Y/n), the atmosphere among the female student body changed. The other girls, who had once vied for his attention, were not pleased. The sudden focus on someone who had been on the periphery of the social scene was enough to raise eyebrows and spark a hint of jealousy.

In the hallways and classrooms, hushed conversations unfolded like a trail of gossip. Girls exchanged glances and speculations, trying to make sense of the unexpected development. Why (Y/n)? What did she have that they didn't? The air was thick with unspoken tension as the rumor mill churned.

Gunwook, oblivious to the brewing storm, continued his interactions with (Y/n) in a friendly and genuine manner. The tutoring sessions persisted, and they found themselves sharing more moments beyond academics—laughter, shared interests, and a connection that seemed to transcend the typical dynamics of high school.

As the days passed, the disquiet among the girls grew more palpable. Some tried to decipher the mystery of (Y/n)'s appeal to Gunwook, while others couldn't hide their frustration at the perceived injustice. The charismatic heartthrob, who had remained beyond the reach of their affections, was now seemingly showing interest in someone who hadn't been part of the popularity contest.

The dynamics of the school's social scene were shifting, and (Y/n) found herself unintentionally at the center of attention. The whispers and glances, the subtle exclusion from certain groups—she navigated the uncharted territory with a mix of confusion and discomfort. Despite the newfound challenges, her focus remained on the genuine connections she was building, both with Gunwook and her two best friends.

As (Y/n) stood by her locker, preparing for her upcoming tutoring session with Gunwook, a hushed tension hung in the air. In the bustling hallway, a group of girls, commonly referred to as Gunwook's fan club, approached her with determined expressions. The whispers that had followed her in the past few days seemed to culminate in this moment.

The leader of the group, a girl with a reputation for being assertive, stepped forward with a challenging glare. "So, (Y/n), what's the deal with you and Gunwook?"

(Y/n) looked up, taken aback by the confrontational tone. "We're just friends. He's helping me with my studies," she replied, keeping her voice steady despite the unease.

The girls exchanged incredulous glances, and another one chimed in, "Friends? Really? You think we believe that? Gunwook has never shown this much interest in anyone before. What makes you so special?"

The accusations hung in the air, and (Y/n) felt a knot tighten in her stomach. The group seemed determined to challenge her presence in Gunwook's life, as if her connection with him threatened the status quo of their infatuation.

Before she could respond, the leader leaned in, her voice dripping with disdain. "Just remember, (Y/n), Gunwook belongs to all of us. Don't think you can just waltz in and take him away. We're not going to let that happen."

The threat lingered, and the group of girls departed with a parting glance filled with resentment. Left alone by her locker, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and frustration. She had never sought this attention, nor did she want to be a source of conflict among her peers.

As the clock ticked closer to her tutoring session, (Y/n) took a deep breath, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead. The unexpected consequences of her connection with Gunwook were becoming more apparent, and she couldn't help but wonder how these dynamics would influence the journey she had embarked on.

The concern lingered in Gunwook's mind as he continued the tutoring session with (Y/n). Despite her apology and assurance that everything was okay, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Her usual focus on the academic material seemed clouded by an underlying emotion that he couldn't quite identify—fear, sadness, or perhaps a mixture of both.

As they worked through the study material, Gunwook stole glances at (Y/n), attempting to gauge her emotional state. Her usually bright eyes were dulled, and a shadow of unease lingered on her features. The concern deepened within him, and he couldn't resist addressing it once more.

"(Y/n), seriously, is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself today. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me," Gunwook said, his tone gentle and reassuring.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "It's just... personal stuff. I don't want to burden you with it. Let's focus on the tutoring, okay?"

Gunwook respected her wish, but the worry didn't dissipate. His desire to help extended beyond academic matters, and he couldn't bear to see (Y/n) in distress. However, he nodded, deciding to prioritize her comfort in that moment.

"Okay, if you ever feel like talking about it, I'm here for you. We can take a break if you need one," he offered, a genuine warmth in his words.

(Y/n) managed a small smile, appreciating his concern. "Thanks, Gunwook. I'll be okay. Let's finish the session."

The tutoring continued, but the unspoken tension hung in the air. Gunwook couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to (Y/n)'s emotional state than she was letting on. As the session concluded, he made a mental note to check in on her, recognizing that sometimes, the most significant support goes beyond textbooks and study sessions. 

As the days passed, the confrontations from the group of girls continued, each encounter leaving (Y/n) more distressed and isolated. Their threats and warnings for her to stay away from Gunwook cast a dark cloud over the budding connection between them. (Y/n), burdened by the escalating pressure and fearing further repercussions, started to distance herself from Gunwook.

Gunwook, oblivious to the external turmoil, couldn't help but notice the change in (Y/n)'s demeanor. The once vibrant atmosphere during their tutoring sessions began to dim, replaced by a palpable tension. He sensed her growing reluctance to engage in conversation or share the small moments of camaraderie they had developed.

One day, after a particularly strained tutoring session, Gunwook decided to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, (Y/n), is everything okay? You seem... different lately. Is there something on your mind?"

(Y/n) hesitated, her eyes betraying a mixture of emotions—fear, frustration, and a hint of sadness. "It's nothing, Gunwook. Just personal stuff. I think it's best if we don't spend too much time together."

Gunwook's heart sank at her words. He felt a growing sense of confusion and hurt, not understanding what had caused this sudden change. "But we're friends, right? If something's bothering you, you can talk to me. I want to help."

(Y/n) bit her lip, torn between the desire to confide in him and the fear of putting him in a difficult situation. "It's not that simple, Gunwook. I appreciate our friendship, but I need some space right now."

As (Y/n) distanced herself further, Gunwook couldn't shake the feeling of loss and confusion. He pondered over their interactions, wondering if he had unintentionally done something wrong. The realization hit him like a wave—the growing distance wasn't just about external threats; it was also about (Y/n)'s own internal struggles.

Amid his contemplation, Gunwook found himself acknowledging a feeling he had been avoiding—a budding crush on (Y/n). The realization added a layer of complexity to the situation, leaving him torn between respecting her need for space and a longing to understand and mend what was broken.

Feeling a heavy weight on his chest, Gunwook decided to confide in his best friend, Jeonghyeon. As they sat in their favorite hangout spot, the atmosphere was more somber than usual.

"Hey, Jeonghyeon, can we talk?" Gunwook began, his usually confident demeanor replaced by a hint of vulnerability.

Jeonghyeon nodded, sensing the gravity of the situation. "Of course, Gunwook. What's on your mind?"

Gunwook took a deep breath before delving into the complexities of his feelings. "It's about (Y/n). I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong, you know? She's been distancing herself, and it hurts."

Jeonghyeon listened attentively, understanding the weight of unspoken emotions between friends. "What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know. She keeps saying it's personal stuff, but I feel like there's more to it. And, Jeonghyeon, I think... I might have a crush on her. The thought of losing our friendship is tearing me apart," Gunwook admitted, a vulnerability in his eyes that Jeonghyeon hadn't seen before.

Jeonghyeon studied his friend for a moment before responding. "Gunwook, it's tough when feelings get involved. But if you care about her, you need to give her the space she's asking for. Maybe she's going through something she's not ready to share yet."

Gunwook sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in Jeonghyeon's words. "I know, but it's just so frustrating. I want to help her, be there for her, but it feels like she's pushing me away."

Jeonghyeon offered a supportive nod. "Sometimes, people need time to figure things out on their own. It doesn't mean she doesn't value your friendship. And as for your feelings, well, that's a whole other challenge."

Gunwook nodded, appreciating his friend's understanding. "I just don't want to lose her, you know? She's become an important part of my life, and the thought of not having her around... it hurts."

Jeonghyeon placed a reassuring hand on Gunwook's shoulder. "Give it time, Gunwook. Things have a way of working themselves out. And if (Y/n) is a true friend, she'll appreciate your patience and understanding. Just focus on being there for her when she's ready to open up."

As (Y/n), Mun Junghyun, and Ji Yunseo settled in for their planned movie night at Ji Yunseo's place, a subtle tension lingered in the air. Mun Junghyun noticed (Y/n)'s distant expression and exchanged a concerned glance with Ji Yunseo.

"Hey, (Y/n), everything okay?" Mun Junghyun asked, sensing that something was amiss.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between her two best friends. Finally, she took a deep breath, deciding it was time to open up about the challenges she had been facing.

"Guys, there's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "For the past two weeks, I've been dealing with confrontations from the so-called Gunwook fan club girls. They keep telling me to stay away from him, and it's been really getting to me."

Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo exchanged surprised glances before offering reassuring expressions. "Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?" Ji Yunseo asked, concern evident in his voice.

(Y/n) sighed, "I didn't want to burden you guys with my problems. But it's been affecting me, and I thought it was time to share."

Mun Junghyun shook his head. "We're your friends, (Y/n). You're not burdening us. We're here for you."

Ji Yunseo nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Confrontations like that can't be easy to handle alone. What do they even have against you?"

(Y/n) shrugged, frustration evident in her expression. "I don't know. Maybe they think I'm getting too close to Gunwook or something. It's been affecting our friendship too. I've been distancing myself from him to avoid any more trouble."

Mun Junghyun's eyebrows furrowed. "That's not fair to you or Gunwook. You shouldn't let those girls dictate your friendships. We'll figure this out together, okay?"

(Y/n) smiled gratefully, feeling the weight of her secret lifted by sharing it with her friends. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate your support. It just feels good to have someone to talk to about this."

As the movie night continued, the trio enjoyed the company of one another, finding solace in friendship and the shared understanding that they were there for each other through the highs and lows of high school life. 

Jeonghyeon's steps faltered as he caught snippets of the heated argument between the girls. The jealousy and resentment directed at (Y/n) became evident, and he couldn't help but connect the dots with the strained situation between her and Gunwook.

Curiosity mixed with concern, Jeonghyeon decided to approach the source of the commotion discreetly. As he rounded the corner, he saw the group of girls, the same ones who had been confronting (Y/n), engaged in a heated discussion. Their expressions ranged from frustration to anger, and their words were laced with resentment.

"Can you believe Gunwook is spending all his time with her? It's like she's taken him away from us!"

"Yeah, and now he's hardly even acknowledging us. It's all because of that stupid girl!"

Jeonghyeon frowned, realizing the extent of the animosity towards (Y/n). He discreetly continued toward the library, his mind racing with thoughts about how to address the situation.

Entering the library, he found Gunwook and (Y/n) engrossed in their tutoring session. The atmosphere was tense, the unspoken rift between them palpable. Gunwook's concern mirrored the unease he had witnessed in (Y/n) during their movie night.

"Hey, guys," Jeonghyeon greeted, trying to keep his tone casual. "Mind if I join you for a bit? Just need a break from the chaos outside."

Gunwook nodded, grateful for the distraction. "(Y/n), is that okay with you?"

(Y/n) forced a small smile, "Sure, the more, the merrier."

As they continued the session, Jeonghyeon subtly probed the dynamics between Gunwook and (Y/n). The unspoken tension in the room was undeniable, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the external pressures were taking a toll on their friendship.

After the tutoring session, as they left the library, Jeonghyeon turned to Gunwook with a knowing look. "We need to talk, man. About (Y/n) and what's going on. It's affecting both of you more than you realize."

Gunwook sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his expression. "I know, Jeonghyeon. I just... I don't want to make things worse for her."

Jeonghyeon placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sometimes, facing the issue head-on is the only way to resolve it. Let's figure this out together."

Jeonghyeon carefully recounted the overheard conversation to Gunwook, detailing the jealousy and resentment the girls harbored toward (Y/n). As the words sank in, Gunwook's expression shifted from anger to a deep concern for (Y/n).

"I had a feeling it was something like that," Gunwook muttered, clenching his fists in frustration. "Those girls have no right to make (Y/n) feel this way. She's done nothing wrong."

Jeonghyeon nodded in agreement. "It's definitely unfair, but we need to handle this carefully. Confronting those girls directly might make things worse. Let's focus on supporting (Y/n) and figuring out a way to ease the situation."

Gunwook took a deep breath, his worry for (Y/n) evident in his eyes. "I just hate seeing her like this, Jeonghyeon. She's been pushing me away, and I don't know how to help her."

Jeonghyeon offered a supportive pat on Gunwook's shoulder. "We'll find a way. Maybe it's time to have an open conversation with (Y/n), and let her know we're here for her, no matter what. She might need to know that she's not facing this alone."

The two friends contemplated their next steps, knowing that addressing the issue required a delicate touch. They decided to approach (Y/n) together, offering her a safe space to share her feelings and concerns.

Later that day, they found (Y/n) in the school courtyard, looking lost in thought. With a shared glance, Gunwook and Jeonghyeon approached her.

"(Y/n), can we talk?" Gunwook asked gently, concern etched on his face.

She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions—surprise, apprehension, and a hint of gratitude. "Sure, what's up?"

"We've noticed that things have been tough for you lately," Jeonghyeon began, choosing his words carefully. "We overheard some things, and we want you to know that you're not alone in this. We're here for you."

(Y/n) hesitated the weight of the situation apparent in her eyes. "I... I appreciate that, but I don't want to drag you guys into my problems. It's my mess to deal with."

Gunwook shook his head. "You're not alone in this, (Y/n). Whatever you're going through, we want to help. And those girls have no right to treat you this way."

With a moment of silent understanding, (Y/n) finally let down her guard, opening up about the struggles she had been facing. The trio found a quiet spot in the courtyard, the beginning of a conversation that would not only bring their friendship to a new level but also set in motion a process of healing and understanding. Little did they know that facing the challenges together would strengthen the bonds between them, paving the way for a resolution that would redefine their high school experiences.

Gunwook's emotions swirled within him as Jeonghyeon shared what he had overheard. The anger at the unjust treatment of (Y/n) by the jealous girls, coupled with worry for her well-being, fueled a determination to set things right. As he headed home, a plan began to take shape in his mind—an attempt to mend the strained situation and ensure (Y/n)'s comfort and peace of mind.

That evening, Gunwook sat down with a pen and paper, drafting a thoughtful message to (Y/n). He wanted to address the elephant in the room, acknowledge the challenges they were facing, and assure her that he valued their friendship. The goal was to provide her with a sense of support and understanding, letting her know that she wasn't alone in navigating the complexities of high school life.

The next day at school, Gunwook sought out (Y/n), aiming to catch her before the tutoring session. He approached her with a sincere smile, hoping to convey his genuine intentions.

"(Y/n), can we talk for a moment?" Gunwook asked with determination in his eyes reflecting his commitment to resolving the issues at hand.

(Y/n) looked at him with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Sure, Gunwook. What's on your mind?"

Gunwook took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I've noticed things have been difficult for you lately, and I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you're going through, I want to help. Our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want you to feel burdened because of it."

He handed her the carefully crafted note, hoping that the sincerity behind his words would come through. (Y/n) read the message, her expression softening as she absorbed the genuine concern and support expressed in each line.

"Gunwook, I appreciate this," she said, her voice genuine. "I've been dealing with some challenges, and it means a lot to know that you care."

As they headed into their tutoring session, a subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at the beginning of a resolution. Gunwook's commitment to supporting (Y/n) and addressing the underlying issues marked a significant step towards healing the rift that had formed between them.

The meeting between Gunwook, Jeonghyeon, Mun Junghyun, and Yunseo took place at their usual hangout spot after school. The atmosphere was a mix of determination and concern as they gathered to discuss the situation involving (Y/n) and the escalating tensions with the Gunwook fan club.

Gunwook initiated the conversation, his frustration evident. "Guys, we need to do something about this. (Y/n) doesn't deserve to be treated this way, and it's affecting her and our friendships."

Jeonghyeon nodded in agreement. "I overheard the fan club girls talking. They're spreading rumors and making (Y/n) feel isolated. We can't let this continue."

Mun Junghyun clenched his fists, his protective instincts kicking in. "They've crossed a line. We need to put an end to this, for (Y/n)'s sake."

Yunseo, usually the voice of reason, spoke up, "We have to be careful about how we handle this. Confronting them directly might make things worse."

As they brainstormed ideas, little did they know that the Gunwook fan club was having their own meeting. The atmosphere in their gathering was less civil, fueled by jealousy and resentment.

"(Y/n) is ruining everything. We can't let her take Gunwook away from us," one girl asserted, her frustration echoing the sentiments of the group.

Another chimed in, "We need to make it clear that he's ours. We can't let some nobody come in and steal him."

As they plotted their actions, (Y/n) found herself unwittingly thrust into a confrontational situation. The animosity in the air escalated, and the clash between the two groups seemed inevitable.

Back at their meeting, Gunwook and his friends strategized, considering how to approach the situation without exacerbating the tensions. They acknowledged the need to support (Y/n) while finding a way to address the fan club's actions.

"We should let (Y/n) know that we're here for her, that she's not alone in this," Jeonghyeon suggested.

"And maybe we can talk to some teachers or the school counselor about it," Yunseo added. "They might be able to intervene in a way that ensures everyone's safety."

The group agreed on a plan of action, each member contributing ideas to navigate the delicate situation. They were determined to support (Y/n) and put an end to the toxic environment created by the fan club.

As the two groups unknowingly prepared to face off in the complex landscape of high school dynamics, the fate of their friendships, alliances, and the resolution of the ongoing conflict hung in the balance. Little did they anticipate the twists and turns that awaited them in the days to come.

As Yunseo and Junghyun were on their way home from the meeting with the other boys, their phones dinged, indicating they received a text. It was from (Y/n), “I won’t be coming to school for a few days,” was all the message said. 

The abrupt and distressing message from (Y/n) sent shockwaves through the group chat, immediately grabbing the attention of Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo. Concern etched across their faces, they urgently responded to (Y/n), seeking more information about the concerning situation.

"Hey, what happened? Are you okay?" Mun Junghyun typed, his fingers racing over the keyboard in his anxious attempt to get a response.

The reply from (Y/n) came in the form of a chilling photo—her bruised legs laid bare for them to see. It was a stark visual representation of the pain she had endured, leaving Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo speechless for a moment.

"Y/n, this looks serious. Where are you? We need to help you," Yunseo typed, his concern palpable in his words.

But (Y/n) remained unresponsive, leaving the two friends with a growing sense of urgency and helplessness. Mun Junghyun's mind raced, considering the gravity of the situation and the need to support their friend.

"We have to do something. We can't just stand by," Mun Junghyun said, determination in his eyes.

Yunseo nodded, his worry deepening. "Let's go to her place. Maybe she needs someone to talk to, or we can help her get the support she needs."

With a shared sense of purpose, Mun Junghyun and Yunseo decided to act immediately. They grabbed their jackets, exchanged hurried glances, and left for (Y/n)'s place, hoping to provide comfort and assistance in whatever way they could.

As they navigated the darkened streets, their minds raced with questions about what could have led to (Y/n)'s injuries and the unsettling silence in her responses. The night held an air of uncertainty and concern, and the fate of their friend hung in the balance.

Little did they know that the events unfolding that night would unravel a web of challenges, bringing them face-to-face with the harsh realities that sometimes lurk behind the veneer of high school life. The strength of their friendship would be tested, and the bonds they forged in the crucible of adversity would determine the days ahead.

Junghyun's quick decision to reach out to Gunwook amid the urgent situation proved to be a pivotal move. Gunwook, upon receiving the message, felt a surge of adrenaline and concern. Without a second thought, he rushed out of his house and sprinted towards (Y/n)'s residence.

The urgency in his steps mirrored the worry in his heart. He arrived at (Y/n)'s house before Mun Junghyun and Ji Yunseo, his mind consumed by the possibilities of what could have happened to her. The air was tense with the unknown, and Gunwook's thoughts raced as he approached the front door.

He knocked anxiously, the echoes of each tap resonating through the quiet night. After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing (Y/n)'s tear-streaked face. Gunwook's heart sank at the sight of her distress, and he didn't need words to understand the gravity of the situation.

"(Y/n), what happened?" Gunwook asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

(Y/n) looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and relief. "I... I didn't know who else to turn to."

Gunwook gently placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting presence. "You don't have to go through this alone. We're here for you."

In the quiet embrace on (Y/n)'s doorstep, Gunwook couldn't help but let the weight of his emotions surface. The concern for (Y/n), combined with the turbulent events of the night, had stirred something within him that could no longer be contained.

As Gunwook held (Y/n) in a gentle hug, he seized the moment to share a vulnerable truth. His whispered confession carried the weight of his feelings, a revelation that went beyond the complexities of the night and into the depths of his heart.

"(Y/n), I... I care about you more than just as a friend," Gunwook confessed, his voice low and sincere. "I think I'm in love with you."

For a moment, (Y/n) was frozen in surprise. The admission caught her off guard, and she felt a rush of emotions—shock, warmth, and a fluttering sensation in her chest. The revelation made her heart race, and a blush tinted her cheeks as she processed the significance of Gunwook's words.

"G-Gunwook, I... I didn't expect... I mean, I never thought..." (Y/n) stammered, her words trailing off as she grappled with the unexpected confession.

Gunwook gently pulled back, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort or reciprocation. "I understand if this is too much, especially with everything going on. I just needed you to know."

(Y/n) met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Gunwook, I... I appreciate your honesty. It's just a lot to process right now."

Sensing (Y/n)'s discomfort he released her from the embrace, and Gunwook swiftly withdrew, giving her the space she needed. The air between them held a subtle tension, a delicate dance of emotions playing out in the quiet of the night.

As Gunwook stepped back, (Y/n) surprised him by seeking out the warmth of his embrace once again. The unspoken connection between them spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities they were navigating—both as friends facing external challenges and as individuals grappling with newfound emotions.

Gunwook's arms enveloped (Y/n) once more, the hug carrying a different nuance this time. It was a shared understanding—an unspoken agreement to navigate the uncertainties together, hand in hand. In the quiet exchange of comfort, the weight of the night's events seemed to momentarily fade, replaced by the reassurance that they were not alone in facing whatever lay ahead.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, with (Y/n) nestled in Gunwook's embrace, the weight of the night's events seemed to find solace in the connection they shared. The subtle sound of (Y/n)'s sniffling revealed the emotional toll the evening had taken on her.

Sensing her need for comfort, Gunwook held her close, his embrace offering a reassuring haven. As (Y/n) looked up from his chest, their eyes met in a shared understanding that transcended words. In that vulnerable exchange, (Y/n) conveyed a depth of gratitude and connection.

Then, unexpectedly, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Gunwook's cheek. The soft press of her lips had an immediate effect on Gunwook. His heart skipped a beat, and a blush tinted his cheeks, catching him off guard. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture added a layer of complexity to the already charged atmosphere between them.

"(Y/n)..." Gunwook began, his words trailing off as he navigated the swirl of emotions within him.

(Y/n) offered a small, watery smile, her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Thank you, Gunwook. I needed this tonight."

The arrival of Mun Junghyun, Jeonghyeon, and Ji Yunseo added a somber note to the already charged atmosphere. As they gathered, (Y/n) recounted the horrifying events that had unfolded earlier—how the girls from the Gunwook fan club had physically assaulted her, pushing her down a staircase at school.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Gunwook, Jeonghyeon, Mun Junghyun, and Yunseo absorbed the gravity of (Y/n)'s revelation. Anger simmered beneath the surface, and concern etched across their faces as they grappled with the harsh reality of the situation.

"(Y/n), why didn't you tell us sooner? We could've done something to help you," Mun Junghyun exclaimed, his fists clenched in frustration.

(Y/n) sighed, her eyes reflecting a mix of pain and resignation. "I didn't want you guys to get involved. It's my problem, and I thought I could handle it on my own. But tonight... I couldn't bear it anymore."

Gunwook's jaw tightened as he exchanged a knowing look with Jeonghyeon. The unspoken agreement in the room was palpable—they needed to address the escalating situation and ensure the safety and well-being of their friend.

"We can't let this slide. Those girls need to be held accountable for what they did," Yunseo asserted, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a steely resolve.

Jeonghyeon nodded in agreement. "We should report this to the school authorities. Physical assault is not something to be taken lightly."

Gunwook, his expression hardened, spoke with determination, "I won't let them get away with hurting you, (Y/n). We'll take the necessary steps to ensure they face the consequences of their actions." As the group huddled together, a collective decision was made to address the assault formally. 

Underneath the morning sunlight, Gunwook walked alongside (Y/n), their footsteps falling into a rhythm that echoed the unspoken understanding between them. The events of the previous night lingered in the air, and as they strolled towards the school, the conversation inevitably turned to the heartfelt confessions and the unexpected kiss.

"(Y/n), about last night..." Gunwook began, his voice reflecting a mix of uncertainty and sincerity.

(Y/n) looked at him, a soft smile on her face. "Gunwook, it's okay. I appreciate your honesty, and I needed that comfort last night. It meant a lot to me."

Gunwook nodded, grateful for her understanding. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

(Y/n) paused, her gaze thoughtful. "And I want to be honest too. I'm not sure what I feel for you yet, but I'm willing to give us a chance. Last night made me realize that there's something special between us, and I want to explore that."

Gunwook's heart skipped a beat at her words, a mix of joy and anticipation flooding his senses. "I'd really like that, (Y/n). Let's see where this takes us."

As they continued their walk to school, (Y/n) took a small, deliberate step, carefully intertwining her fingers with one of Gunwook's larger hands. The simple gesture spoke volumes, a silent affirmation of the connection they were exploring and a gentle declaration of the willingness to let their bond deepen.

Gunwook felt a warmth spread through him at the touch, a subtle yet profound reassurance that they were in this together. He gently squeezed (Y/n)'s hand in response, a silent acknowledgment of the shared path they were embarking upon.

The sun cast a golden glow on the horizon, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment—a moment of shared vulnerability, hope, and the subtle magic that comes with the discovery of something new and precious.

As they approached the school gates, hand in hand, the unspoken promise lingered in the air—a promise to navigate the uncertainties, support each other through challenges, and embrace the joy of unfolding emotions. 

The entrance of Gunwook and (Y/n) into the school did not go unnoticed, especially by the infamous fan club. Murmurs and glances followed them as they walked hand in hand, and the disapproving stares intensified as the news of their connection spread like wildfire.

As the fan club members gathered the audacity to approach the new couple, Gunwook's expression shifted from the usual calm demeanor to stern determination. He positioned himself protectively in front of (Y/n), sending a clear message that their actions were unwelcome.

The leader of the fan club, her frustration evident, stepped forward, "What's the meaning of this, Gunwook? Why are you with her?"

Gunwook's voice carried an undeniable authority as he addressed the group. "Her name is (Y/n), and she deserves to be treated with respect. I won't allow any harassment, and I expect you all to leave us alone."

The tension in the air escalated, but Gunwook's resolute stance and firm tone left no room for negotiation. He had drawn a line, not only defending (Y/n) but also asserting his right to make his own choices.

(Y/n), though taken aback by the confrontation, stood beside Gunwook, feeling a mix of vulnerability and gratitude for his unwavering support.

The fan club, realizing that Gunwook was not to be swayed, reluctantly backed off, casting resentful glances at the new couple. As they dispersed, the hallway returned to a semblance of normalcy, but the ripple effects of the confrontation lingered.

Gunwook turned to (Y/n) with a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently. "Don't worry. We'll face this together."

The exhilaration of exam week finally coming to an end had (Y/n) racing through the school corridors, eager to find Gunwook and share the news. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and relief, the anticipation building as she sought out her boyfriend.

Spotting Gunwook in a quiet corner of the school, (Y/n) couldn't contain her joy. With a burst of energy, she rushed toward him, her emotions bubbling over. In an impulsive moment of elation, she jumped up, wrapping her arms around him and planting a big kiss on his lips—their first kiss.

Gunwook, initially surprised by the sudden display of affection, quickly embraced the moment. A smile played on his lips as he reciprocated the kiss, the shared joy and accomplishment making the moment even more special.

When they finally broke the kiss, (Y/n) couldn't help but gush, "Gunwook, I aced my exams! I couldn't have done it without your help."

Gunwook grinned, his eyes reflecting pride and happiness. "That's amazing, (Y/n)! I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you."

The shared success not only marked the end of a challenging week but also solidified the bond between Gunwook and (Y/n). Their journey, from the uncertainties of the fan club confrontations to the shared study sessions, had brought them closer, and the sweet victory of acing the exams became a celebration of both individual achievements and the strength of their partnership.

As they walked hand in hand, the school corridors seemed brighter, echoing with the shared laughter and the triumph of conquering challenges together. Little did they know that this milestone would be just one of many they'd celebrate on their journey—a journey filled with shared victories, the warmth of mutual support, and the joys of navigating the complexities of high school life as a united couple.

[newnlovesjennie]

midnight rain

nami/vinsmoke sanji

cws: implied sa, past child abuse, panic attacks

tags: angst, character study, nami-centric, sanji is kind, songfic, dark!nami, based on a ts song

wc: 1.3k

☆⋆。𖦹✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩°‧★☆⋆。𖦹✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩°‧★☆⋆。𖦹✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹

My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences, pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise.

she enjoyed putting on a show, displaying herself as a perfect women. pirate queen, top navigator, whatever label the world decided to don on her. it let the people see her better, and she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed the looks she would get on the street. women sinking with envy, men salivating with lust, she knew she shouldn’t enjoy it, the pride that came with it, but something about it all healed her.

perhaps it was for the little girl still inside her, tattered robes and calloused hands. the little girl that felt like she’s not good enough or strong enough or smart enough to protect anyone, her village. the little girl who wasted her adolescence sweating away in a dark room, ankles shackled to the chair, seeing her nightmares and reality intertwine into what was supposed to be her dream. she internally begged for anyone to help her, save her, but she knew this was her duty. it was for her village, after all.

she didn’t grow up like other girls. she never experienced what a first crush was like, or how it feels to shop for new clothes, sleepovers, gossiping, giggles, girlhood. instead, she got used to leeching eyes, unwanted touches, and quickly learned the men she will be meeting in this world won’t be the chivalrous knights that her sister used to tell her about when they were very little. they were instead dissolute, carnal beings that only wanted her for one thing. she learned how much she’d benefit from it.

the strawhats were…. confusing. the love she felt from luffy was nothing like what all those men would force on her all those years before. it was unconditional, pure, and familial, and nami cherished it like it was her most prized possession. she forgot when the last time was that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in the presence of a man, without the undying fear of what would come next. newfound trust surged through her veins, and she flourished in it.

and then there was sanji. sanji, the corny cook that luffy, for some reason, stubbornly demanded be on their ship. he all cheesy words, artificial charm, and pure love. now that, that was the part that nami couldn’t understand. she prided herself on her ability to read others, to know what to expect with every interaction she had. but with sanji, the supposed most predictable man on earth, she couldn’t figure it out. she had witnessed countless, shameless men that would throw themselves onto her and be open about their affections, but sanji wore his heart on his sleeve with pure, unfiltered endearment. while the others would chalk it up to dumb flattery, nami saw more. she saw a man that was unafraid to show his love for the people around him, and she couldn’t help but feel heavily confused. it was shallow, she told herself. it was shallow, the love he had for her. the petnames, the fancy dishes, it was all an act, a lie he was trying to tell her, so that she could give him the one thing he wanted.

but then he was there, punching one of her abusers in the face for calling her “just a lousy girl”, then he was there, carrying her up a freezing mountain because she was sick. she knew he was a fairly handsome guy, and if he truly wanted to, could pick up a girl from any of the islands they visit and have a nice night together. so why her? why was he so hellbent on her? it’s not like she had anything to offer that would be different, did she?

My boy was a montage, a slow-motion, love potion jumping off things in the ocean, I broke his heart 'cause he was nice.

sanji… who is sanji, really? embarrassingly, nami found herself thinking about that more often than she could count. he was brave, for starters. incredibly kind. he’d never hesitate to help someone in need, even if it meant hurting himself in the process. self sacrificing, yes, that’s what he was. just like nami. he wouldn’t spare a second thought to rush into a fight, if it meant saving someone, even if it meant in his own demise. that’s just the kind of guy he is. 

loving, oh, the most loving man she’d ever met. it went beyond the daily dessert platters and cheesy love letters. it would be when they were at the dinner table, the room noisy as ever, and nami would suddenly realize she can’t move her fingers. or her legs, or her arms. and now, she can’t breathe. luffy would ask a thousand and one questions, and everyone else would be concerned. but nami was better than this. nami was stronger than this, she broke down easily, yes, but prided herself on being a backbone to the crew, being the sole reason they got anywhere in the first place. but in times like these, she felt useless, just like on the battlefield. useless, just like how she was when bellemere fell to the ground.

but then she’d lock eyes with sanji, and his eyes would soften in such a way that she felt like he knew exactly what she was going through, that he was in her place many times before. he’d put on his high pitched voice and ask nami-swan to help him find the frozen peas in the storage they have in the deck, and to everyones surprise, nami would agree. they’d leave and nami wouldn’t know what to say, whether to thank him or tell him to get lost, because frankly, she needed some time alone. but she didn’t need to do any of that, because sanji knew, he knew, so much that it scared her how much he knew. he’d make contact with her eyes once more and offer a smile, one filled with genuine love--as always. he knew she wanted to be left alone, that’s how she is. he’d return to the dining room and make an excuse about how she needed to check the navigation plans to see if they’re on track, and that would be the end of it.

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain, he wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain, he wanted a bride, I was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight rain

they’d never work out, nami knew that much. they’d never work out, because he was too sincere and kind and sentimental, and she was anything but. she’d learned to love, the strawhats had taught her that much, but she was still scared. she was afraid he’d still be waiting at her doorstep, even after she’d create a fight out of nothing and push him away. she was afraid he’d forgive her, if she were to ever reap what she was taught in her teen years by the pirates that kept her captive, she was afraid she would be too much, too emotional, too broken.

and her hand hurt, the whole time she was waiting for luffy to wake up. stranded in an unknown land far into big moms territory, her hand ached from when she’d slapped sanji minutes prior. after years of soft eye contact and subtle, genuine touches, she couldn’t handle the icy stare he gave her before saying his goodbyes. is this how she felt when she saw nojiko’s reaction to her inclusion to the arlong pirates? though, a part of her knew he was just doing what she had done years prior, pushing his loved ones away to tackle an issue he thought only he should handle. they were two sides of the same coin, but despite that, she felt like her worst fears had come through, that sanji was finally tired of her, and she retaliated the only way she knew how. she was hurting, but she knew he was too.

[a-queer-seminarian]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 💕

Thanks, anon. I'm not going to send this to other folks via askbox but if anyone wants to respond in the replies / @ me in their own post I'd love to see!

It's been a rough month or so — trying out new medication backfired spectacularly (prozac my beloathéd </3) and my depression sunk in with a vengeance. It's been more important than ever to pay attention to the good things in life, to remember that it's not all bad.

My truly wonderful wife, Leah. She has been so kind and patient with me throughout this hard time. Just a few days ago, after I had a bit of a meltdown, she took me outside to soak in some sunshine and pointed out some of the things to keep living for — the birdsong, the breeze, our neighbors with their progress pride flag decked yard. The flowers and vegetables I've been growing, most still young sprouts but some beginning to bear fruit. Her arms around me. ...I couldn't ask for a better helpmate.

2. My garden! I'm not very good at gardening yet, but I'm working on it and I'm proud of the progress! And the bright side to living somewhere so fricking hot is the growing season is long, so my slow-growing plants have plenty of time to flourish.

3. Our sweet kitties and (this is goofy but) my plushies lol.* They bring me a lot of comfort and happiness. (*Yes, a lot of them are squishmallows; I'm aware that the company that makes them gives money to Isra3l — we haven't bought any since finding that out in the fall, and have no plans to. Boycott kellytoy!)

4. Stories and storytelling. Listening to novels and reading various theological books, watching something and discussing it with Leah or another friend, is one of the main ways I make meaning and learn how to navigate the world. A few great books I've read lately:

Safety through Solidarity: A Radical Guide to Fighting Antisemitism

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride (now there's a storyteller)

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Wholehearted Faith by Rachel Held Evans

Decolonizing Palestine by Mitri Raheb (I know I know, I'm always talking about this book but for goodness' sake every Christian should read it)

5. Saints and other figures from Christian history or scripture. I always find comfort and courage in learning their stories and reaching out to them in prayer and drawing from their wisdom. I'm working on an art project centering Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe this month...

[madschool01]

What you need for a career switch to becoming a designer

Career switching in Singapore can be a daunting experience for anyone, whether you're making a small pivot or taking a massive leap into a completely new field. It’s a step out of your comfort zone, and even with the countless pieces of advice and wisdom from friends, colleagues, or the internet, uncertainty often lingers. The thought of starting fresh and learning the ropes can feel overwhelming, especially in a competitive landscape like Singapore.

This is particularly true for creative industries such as design. Unlike more conventional fields, creative roles are often dynamic, requiring a blend of technical expertise and artistic intuition. If you're switching from a completely unrelated profession—whether you're in finance, teaching, or logistics—moving into design can feel like a whole new world.

The design umbrella itself covers a wide spectrum of roles: from graphic design to UX/UI, fashion to product design, and beyond. It can be confusing figuring out where to start, what skills to learn, and what resources to tap into. In Singapore, the design industry is flourishing, with many opportunities available for those willing to upskill and get involved. But before diving in, it's important to understand the essentials for making that switch.

Whether you're exploring courses, building a portfolio, or networking with local designers, having a strategic approach will make the transition smoother. In this article, we’ll cover the key steps you’ll need to take if you’re planning a career switch to become a designer in Singapore.

We’ll help guide you through the resources available, from design courses to certifications, and discuss how to get your foot in the door of this exciting, ever-evolving field. Whether you’re eyeing graphic design, interior design, or UX/UI, our guide is here to help you navigate this journey.

Identifying Your Niche

There are many kinds of designers, ranging from user experience designers to product designers and more, and each requires their own area of expertise. Before immersing yourself into a career in design, it would be good to have a rough idea of what kind of design you would like to focus on. A clear goal would enable you to specialise much earlier, dedicating your time and effort into gaining knowledge and skills in that line of work. Given the stage of life you may be at when undertaking this career switch, time may well be of the essence.

To learn more about the different kinds of design professions, dive into research online, or reach out to others already working in these roles to hear their experiences. After all, what better way to get an authentic view of a profession than to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth? If you are more of a hands-on person, try sourcing for taster courses online, or in-person. These courses are more touch-and-go, but can give you a brief overview of what each design role encompasses, and what individuals in these lines of work may have to deal with every day. From this, it may be easier to formulate an opinion on which design job is most suitable for you.

Of course, if you are still not entirely sure which role suits you best, and you can afford the time to explore, it is fine to dabble in different areas of design until you discover what works best for you. A career switch should never be a hasty, uninformed decision, and you should take the time to carefully weigh the costs and benefits of your prospective path.

Design Diploma

If you have long since stepped out of school, you might be thinking reluctantly, “Why do I need to go through this again?” Understandably, getting a design diploma may sound like a massive time sink, coupled with the time loss from starting a different profession anew. In truth, obtaining this diploma is an extremely worthwhile investment.

Having a diploma opens doors for you professionally, as it vouches for your competence and credibility. When prospective employers see that you have a design diploma – be it a graphic design diploma, a user experience design diploma, or any other kind of design diploma – it immediately informs them that you have attained a solid foundation, and this may net you more opportunities, especially in companies, who may sort potential candidates based on the qualifications on their resume.

Gaining a shiny new qualification aside, a design diploma course arms you with the hard skills and a comprehensive understanding of design principles necessary to stay afloat in the design industry. Of course, you could always attempt to pick these up through self-learning. However, this can take far longer, and you would have to locate resources on your own. A diploma course has the added benefit of being more structured, which allows you to learn in a more systematic way compared to self-learning, while keeping you on task. The access to dedicated lecturers, fellow learners and specialised resources also grants you greater support towards your professional growth and development.

For those currently working a full-time job, you might be concerned about being able to balance a diploma course alongside your current schedule. Thankfully, design schools offering diploma courses have become more aware of the growing demand from working adults to upskill themselves, and some have started offering evening classes, which may be more ideal for your tight schedule.

Design Portfolio

Should you have conducted your own research prior to reading this article, “Design Portfolio” is likely the most common phrase that has popped up as a requirement for entering the design industry. As the saying goes, “A picture speaks a thousand words” – as does a design portfolio for a designer. A design portfolio is critical to any designer, since it explicitly showcases the range of projects you have worked on, and allows prospective employers or clients to get a better sense of your abilities, and artistic direction, in the case of more artistic design professions.

This begets the question – how should you make a design portfolio?

Trailing off our previous point, enrolling in a design diploma course would require you to work on your own projects as deliverables, which can serve as samples to use in your portfolio. Otherwise, to grow your portfolio, consider developing your own samples. Depending on the design profession you are looking at, this can range from case studies and your solutions to address them, graphic design samples, or anything creative you have produced in your own time. You never know – it could be a personal project that earns you your new position one day!

As for presenting your portfolio, it would be ideal to have a website to feature all of your past works. This not only makes it easier for others to look through your portfolio, but the appearance of your website also lends itself as a testament to your design abilities – so do not underestimate its potential, and ensure that it looks clean and presentable.

            Switching careers to a design role can certainly present its challenges, but it’s often less daunting than it appears. The key steps involve building a foundation of knowledge and experience, developing a standout portfolio, and possibly enrolling in a graphic design course in Singapore.

Such courses help you pick up essential hard skills, gain industry-relevant certification, and boost your confidence in this creative field. For anyone starting out, creating a portfolio that showcases your talent and potential is critical.

A well-structured design course not only teaches you the tools of the trade—like Adobe Creative Suite or typography—but also provides an environment where you can start crafting your first professional projects. By acquiring a solid blend of practical experience and academic training through a properly crafted program, you set yourself on a path to transform your passion into a sustainable career. We hope this guide has provided a roadmap to kickstart your journey into the dynamic world of design.

[1alphabetz]

Tiny Steps, Big Leaps: Nurturing Independence Safely

In the journey of raising a child, fostering independence from an early age is akin to planting a seed and nurturing it into a strong, resilient tree. It’s about laying a foundation that supports growth, exploration, and self-discovery. For caregivers, this journey involves a delicate balancing act—encouraging little ones to take their tiny steps towards autonomy while ensuring their safety and well-being. Let’s explore how caregivers can master this art, turning tiny steps into big leaps towards nurturing independence safely.

The Foundation of Independence

The quest for independence is a natural part of human development, beginning in the earliest stages of childhood. Recognizing **the importance of independence in early childhood development** is the first step. It fosters self-esteem, confidence, problem-solving skills, and resilience in the face of challenges. Caregivers can **set the stage for independence from infancy** by creating an environment that encourages exploration and experimentation within safe boundaries.

Safety First: Creating a Secure Environment

Before infants can embark on their journey of discovery, it’s crucial to ensure their playground—the home—is safe for exploration. **Baby-proofing your home** is not about creating a bubble but about making a space where infants can explore without facing unnecessary risks. This includes securing furniture that can tip over, covering electrical outlets, and ensuring small objects are out of reach. At the same time, **supervision and setting safe boundaries** are paramount. It’s about being present and attentive, guiding their exploration without unnecessarily limiting their curiosity.

Encouragement Over Intervention

As infants begin to explore their world, **encouraging them to try new things** becomes a cornerstone of fostering independence. This might mean resisting the urge to immediately help them when they face a minor struggle, allowing them the opportunity to solve problems on their own. It’s a fine line between knowing **when to step in and when to let infants figure things out for themselves**. Observing their cues and being responsive, rather than reactive, can help caregivers navigate this balance.

Tools of the Trade: Age-Appropriate Aids for Independence

Selecting the right **toys and tools** that promote self-discovery is like giving infants a key to unlock their potential. Items that encourage problem-solving and exploration, such as building blocks, simple puzzles, and toys that mimic real-life objects, are invaluable. Moreover, **using everyday activities as opportunities for independence** can be incredibly effective. This includes allowing infants to try feeding themselves, dressing with assistance, and participating in clean-up activities, all under the watchful eye of a caregiver.

Nurturing Through Nutrition

When it comes to **encouraging self-feeding**, starting with safe, nutritious foods is essential. This not only promotes physical health but also independence and motor skill development. Offering finger foods that infants can manage on their own encourages exploration and enjoyment of food. Balancing the need for nutritional intake with the learning experience of self-feeding often means **allowing messes** in the process. It’s a testament to the caregiver’s patience and understanding of the learning process.

The Emotional Landscape: Praise, Patience, and Presence

The emotional support caregivers provide during this journey cannot be overstated. **Positive reinforcement** and celebrating even the smallest successes make a significant impact on an infant’s willingness to try new things. **Patience** is a virtue that caregivers will find indispensable, as infants learn and grow at their own pace. Being **emotionally present**—offering comfort, encouragement, and understanding—helps to build a secure attachment that is crucial for independence to flourish.

Fostering independence in infants is a journey filled with joy, challenges, and countless learning opportunities—not just for the child, but for the caregiver as well. It’s about providing the right mix of freedom and guidance, allowing infants to explore their capabilities while ensuring they feel safe and supported. As caregivers navigate this delicate balance, they lay the groundwork for a lifetime of learning, resilience, and self-reliance. And so, with each tiny step, infants make big leaps towards becoming independent individuals, ready to explore the world on their own terms.

 To know more about our childcare program please contact us at https://www.alphabetzmontessori.com/contact-us.html or visit-

Website: https://alphabetzmontessori.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alphabetzmontessori/ 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alphabetz_montessori/ 

Call us: (210) 350-9000, (210) 993-5577

[aintsh1t]

01. Intro

A cliché start to any new blog: I don't know how to start but here goes nothing..

Lucky for you (and by you, I mean most probably me as I'm not sure I'll be actively sharing this blog with the world), I am a rambler, and whether or not it makes sense, I have the gift of word vomit.

I am a nearly 30-year old gal who has decided to create a blog. Mainly as a creative outlet for myself. As a way of journaling. As a way of trying to figure out what 'this' is. A way to reflect on my navigation through these weird lil times.

I've been in a weird space this past year, but more accurately since I was thrust into the real world - so much change has happened. A recent break up has been the straw that broke the camel's back and BOOM - I think I'm having some form of midlife crisis. Now, when I say that, I don't mean it from the stereotypical male perspective of getting a rose tattoo on my sad bicep and buying a motorcycle that I'd never ride. I mean I think reality has finally set in that the way I've been navigating life has to change. In one way, it's exciting. I feel that this is a necessary evil and from here I can grow and flourish and be a healthy well-rounded human blah blah. But being honest, I'm absolutely fucking terrified.

Another reason I wanted to jump on and create a blog is because I've never had an outlet that was solely mine. Something that I have full autonomy over (irony as I'm using tumblr lol). And here I want to share my thoughts, feelings, ups and downs, my interests, my thoughts. And who knows? If anyone stumbles across this, they may resonate, or they may think what the fuck. Either way I'll have done my job.

But anyway, here goes. Welcome to my blog - you're in for a interesting, real, fun (at times), emotional (most of the time) probably inconsistent ride.

[skelingtonsderek]

You ever see something that causes you psychic damage?

They're talking about getting their kid tested for ADHD because the school recommended it and instead getting their kid identified as gifted and put on an accelerated track.

I love to be the bearer of news here for ya because accelerated learning tracks are GREAT accomodations for people with ADHD.

Turns out he was just bored? Respectfully, do you understand what ADHD is and how it works? Of course he's bored he has ADHD.

The "gifted" program's gift is actually just late diagnosis once your kid leaves the academic world and discovers that they have received zero actual skills, habits, or support to help them be successful as an adult.

I think the really fucking tragic part is that most of the time late diagnosis happens AFTER the new adult has crashed and burned trying to establish themselves after they leave the nest. Oftentimes going in for help for depression and coming out with an ADHD diagnosis because it turns out their depression is comorbid.

Tl;dr: Without knowing you have a disability, it is impossible to accommodate your disability so that you can still fucking function and learn how to flourish as yourself. End fucking stop.

[spotofimagines]

Rivals Last ~ Jadon Sancho

A/N: So I had this in my drafts before he signed with man united but that's fine, we move, we adapt. A third piece for the @footballffbarbiex summer challenge. Hope you enjoy it :)

Warnings: none - reader is female

Summary: You love both your brothers dearly, but being in the football world with them can make some things a little complicated.

gif by @archivesbvb - gif by @ermuellert - gif by @italynt

Being a footballer meant living in a special world. Being in a footballing family meant living in a special world too. Being the younger sister of Lucas and Theo Hernandez meant living in a really special world. But nobody told you just how crazy it would be for all three of those things to apply to you.

You truly love watching your older brothers play football. They teach you something new during every match you see; even though you play as a striker, their movements and handling of the ball always inspire you to play better. After all, it was their defensive skills that helped you become a good goal scorer growing up since they never let a tackle go unchallenged in the park and you had to find out how to manoeuvre around them. A lot easier said than done.

Currently Lucas is signed with Bayern Munich. In his time there so far, he has learnt the heritage, history, and importance of wearing the badge and defending its honour in every match they play, especially derbies. Having supported Lucas, it quickly became easy for you to support Bayern Munich too and celebrate their victories like it was your own team. You'd always managed to do it with the clubs both your brothers played for, letting the atmosphere of the fanbase carry you away.

You have just finished your second season in England with Manchester City women's team. You'd settled in nicely now, having learnt a lot of the English language and culture already. The experience was made so much easier because of the help given by your welcoming teammates and the staff that translated things into French and Spanish during your first months there.

Fans were a little disappointed during the 2019 summer transfer window when it was confirmed all three Hernandez siblings would be leaving Spain to play separately in England, Germany and Italy, joking that no one could know what might happen with you all so far away. However, to you, it made things easier, as Lucas and Theo would stop making so many awful jokes about each other's clubs, only to join forces to diss your club even more afterward. Now the only connection you have to the clubs you all play for is the want for your sibling to win with them. And it is a great feeling. A welcome change of pace.

But no new change to your life felt as good as your blossoming "relationship", situationship, whatevership, you have with Jadon Sancho.

It all started with you flirting back and forth on social media, which turned itself into countless hours of DMs no one else could see. You congratulated his goals and he congratulated your wins. All the light-hearted teasing and the warm-hearted compliments stayed in your own little bubble. The only thing peeking out was your silly inside rule that if you were going to comment on a post, it had to be emojis only, stretching to a few words if you really couldn't help yourself - but it would earn you taunts from the other for the rest of the night.

Some eagle-eyed fans noticed how you'd been liking each other's posts every time they appeared for a while now, but it just added to the fun and thrill you got from flirting with him so much.

You weren't meant to be forming a bond with Jadon. He played for your brother’s rival. He was supposed to be the enemy. Someone you should dislike with a snap of your fingers. Certainly not a boy to fall for like you have.

You couldn't help yourself. Lucas and Theo had helped you since you moved to England by being the steady rocks they always were, cheering you on from afar. Your new teammates had helped you since you moved to England by introducing fun things for you all to do together and taking you under their wings. But Jadon had helped you in a different kind of way. He gave you a new kind of comfort and reassurance when you talked. He became someone to turn to with all your interesting news and your curious problems. He told you the good places to visit around the city that he remembered from his time there and taught you English slang to make your teammates laugh. You spoke three languages to varying degrees now, and you'd managed to pick up more German vicariously through Lucas in two years faster than Jadon had done living in Germany in four years, so you'd clue him into rude German phrases you had asked Lucas about, alongside the French and Spanish swear words he used more often than English ones now when you text. 

Even though a language barrier comes up once in a while, you have both learnt behaviours from each other and crave the contact you share. Jadon was starting to drop everything to send replies to you, a change his teammates have noticed and jokingly mock him for. Little did they know the unknown girl they joke he is smitten over is the sister of their rival.

Theo is the one in your family you usually tell about the boys you go out with; boyfriends and dates have been shared with him since you were 13 and doting on your first crush. He does the same with his girlfriends; asking advice and telling you more than you need to know at times. So, when you all went home for a bit of family time around Christmas, nothing could stop him from noticing the tell-tale signs that you had something going on. He already figured out through persistence that it was another player you were getting involved with, and his insistent questioning hasn't stopped in his search for who the player is.

But you keep it hidden from Lucas, and you don't know when you'll tell him. He has been your protector since you were kids, comforting you on sad nights when no one else was there, teaching you little secrets about how to navigate through the world, he even punched a boy who teased you once at school. The idea of telling him you were chatting romantically to another player would be trouble enough, but telling him it was a Dortmund player might just end up in another schoolground incident. You hadn't wanted Theo to know for fear he'd go dishing your dirt to Lucas, but he discovered it on his own and there was nothing you could do.

Who knows what might become of this thing you have with Jadon, and lord knows your eldest brother owns a hard as nails death stare that just might do Jadon in, but for now you actually quite like having the secret. A little mystery tucked away up your sleeve.

The rush you always get when Lucas calls your phone as you're typing a text to the Englishman,  feeling as though the first words from the other end will be shouts of how he knows everything and he'll never speak to you again for keeping it a secret, fills you with dread at times. But it never is the reason he calls, and it turns out he is just making plans or has something funny to tell you. But the way your heart thumps as you go back to texting Jadon, that is part of the chase you have to admit you enjoy.

Hardcore fans online have noticed the past few months that when you do interviews in English, the odd slang term comes up during jokes - terms you hadn't used before and stem more from London boroughs than northen towns - so speculation of how you'd learnt these things easily coincided with dating rumors.

Lucas had seen the speculation online; seen fans trying to put your interactions with the Dortmund player together through both your instagram stories and comments and the tweets you both had liked about the other. Lucas had even grown suspicious of the little questions you asked him about Germany, German phrases and his lifestyle there, not knowing why you would need nor want to know those things. But Lucas doesn't believe it. He knows that you know better to mix with a Dortmund boy.

Sometimes an older brother just doesn't get it quite right…

Soon, the chance will come to really see if your connection is something you can build on. Jadon's new signing with Manchester United has been confirmed and he will be moving back to England. It is a great opportunity to get to see him more often, rather than the odd rendezvous point or clandestine trip during small breaks in the season. You'll spend more time face to face instead of over the phone. You'll get to wake up in his bed and him in yours, without needing to sneak away from hotel rooms afterwards. You'll maybe even get to go on a proper date, just the two of you, where you can flirt across the table your joined hands rest upon. Hanging out with Jadon won't be the first time you've spent time together in person. However, getting a full day with only the two of you where you won't have to pretend you hardly know who he is, and you won't have to pretend your eyes aren't meeting across the group of people you're in - it fills your stomach with knots and butterflies.

A certain pressure has fallen off you now Jadon has no growing rivalry with Lucas, but not completely. You won't be able to take back the way their teams made the other feel in the past, but the fact there won't be more of it next season comforts you a little. The biggest thing that will hold you back from going public before the new season starts will be the media, but that is an issue you can't even begin to worry about yet. You are too caught up in the excitement of being in the same town as Jadon to care. Rumours are spinning crazier than ever about you two as some of your liked tweets about his move got reposted by sports pages and fan blogs - now joking about him being your rival instead of your brother's - and yet it didn't stop you, no longer all that bothered about keeping a low profile now you both will be living away from Lucas. If he gets mad, all he will be able to do is shout down the phone, and whilst you never want that to happen, you know the time to flourish with Jadon and capitalise on the foundation you have already built is better than ever, brothers be damned.

There are big changes coming for the both of you, yet one thing will remain the same no matter the outcome of your relationship. You can't quite stop being football rivals.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

OC-tober Day 2: Glass

OC-tober prompts put together by @oc-growth-and-development​! I have to ramble in meta instead of write, because my brain is Mush lately. (I know I’m behind but I have a lot pre-written, I just need to put it into coherent words!)

This one especially can be rambled about at length, because the most important “glass” object in my stories is one I greatly enjoy exploring: Dove’s mindscape mirror!

^ I drew it forever ago; here’s the deviantArt link if you’d like to see the big version! 

https://www.deviantart.com/ravenshiddensoul/art/Dove-s-Keepsakes-Mirror-and-Box-284227087

It’s largely modeled after a bird stretching its wings upwards, with a handle like a tail and certain details are inlaid with Azarathean gold to better channel its magics.

Now, this is where the rambling begins: The mirror’s backstory, and I’ll be exploring one of my favorite things to develop in all of my stories: Dove’s mindscape!

Dove's mirror isn't one of her most prized possessions, nor super incredibly sentimental, but it IS an object touched with her mother's magic, it has flourishes of Azarathean gold (some of the last pieces to exist), and it's useful for introspection and self-soothing, so it does have some value and importance.

Dove struggled with meditating quite a lot as a child, and there was only so much her mother could do to help. Meditation was pretty important to them as both a means of helping Dove control her powers, and as a staple of Azarathean spirituality. As she so often did, Alerina poked around and asked enough questions around the temple that she was told about Raven's mirror, and she decided to replicate it for Dove. She custom ordered a gold-lined wooden hand mirror, and then cast the spells to connect it to Dove's inner world herself. It took a few tries (it's much harder to connect something to someone else's mind than your own, after all), but she was nothing if not determined to help her daughter, and eventually figured it out.

As for its main purpose: Self-reflection! (If you'll pardon the pun.) Dove uses it to meditate, but where Raven uses hers for centering and compartmentalization, Dove uses it more as a blend of escapism and a focusing aid.

Much like Raven's, Dove's mirror acts as a portal to the depths of her mind, and this is where it gets fun!

The vortex that transports the users is usually white and gold, imbued with the same energies that give Dove her powers, at least on her mother's side. It's noticeably touched with black and red in DDD. (Dove's evil side starts taking over her mind, and thus its energies manifest through the mindscape, and Dove's portal into it, hence: black and red energies instead.) It tends to open up like a light tunnel and almost opens the mental world around the user, rather than dragging them in.

Once inside, one can't expect to navigate the same way as Beast Boy and Cyborg did in "Nevermore". Every mind is different, after all! We saw Raven's mindscape divided nearly into emotional sections with a neutral space between them, and the way through each area was preset and linear. While different parts of Dove's internal world manifest in different "areas", they're not so totally divided and separate, and there's no real "neutral" zone except at the very "center". The scenery changes, but it's more of a gradual transition, and though Dove employs thresholds to mark key areas, they're very much just visual aids.

Dove's mindscape is laid out more like a series of rooms and courtyards in a very (very, very, very) large mansion. The ground is generally of crystal, spires and columns decorate the scenery, and the thresholds are modeled after birds with their wings outspread. (While this seems like a play on Dove's namesake, it's actually based on Azarath's architecture, particularly that of George Perez's Azarath in the 1980's New Teen Titans comics.)

Dove's sky shows various stars and often casts moonlight from an uncertain source, particularly when she's introspecting. The ambient temperature varies amongst the locations, chilly in the regions ruled by fear and sadness, uncomfortably warm near her demon's domain, and comfortable and breezy where her peace and contentment reside.

One could easily get lost in her mindscape if they don't know where they're going. The place can shift and change on a whim.

Where Dove spends her time building that peace and contentment, it's very closely modeled after her mother's memories of Azarath (which is where she learned how to find peace, after all): there's marble and gold everywhere, and the stars twinkle with dozens of colors in the sky.

Where Dove retreats when there are feelings of timidity, her excruciating shyness, her grief and doubt, the world becomes shrouded in thick fog. Broken buildings and pale light litter the grounds.

Where she built her love for reading, for history, for creativity and study and learning, it's arranged as rooms with dark marbled tile and a carpeted path, the floor for dozens of feet on either side littered with piles of books.

Dove's inner happy place is an open field on gently rolling hills, where thoughts take the form of birds and somehow the sky holds both the stars and suns. One might find trees, flowers, abstract forms of cottages, and forts loaded with mugs and cozy cushions. If you wander far enough you'll find very tall stone walls surrounding it, because Dove's mind is such that her happiness is one of the few things she really truly believes she needs to protect from the rest of herself.

And then there are the aspects of herself that she shoves the deepest down, secreted far away from the surface: the anger, the hunger for power, the mean streak. (Yes, believe it or not, Dove does have a mean streak! You just have to work especially hard to bring it out. Or trigger her in just the right ways around sadism, violence, war, or death. It's very much Not Recommended; bringing too much of that mean streak out could mean Dove loses control of her powers, or worse: her demonic aspects.)

Those secret forces aren't so much located in one particular space of her mind as they're hidden in every dark corner, coursing through the underside of all the ground, a tantalizing power running through every part of her, only ever set free enough to use the dangerous powers to her own ends.

Her places for Fear and Curiosity in particular will be explored in the upcoming Missing: Raven rewrite. (As they're the strongest things Dove is feeling in that story, that's going to be what Beast Boy and Cyborg encounter.) I also explored the way these things manifest in DDD, and in that same story Dove will focus on rebuilding Peace in the final chapter.

I can't talk about Dove's mindscape without mentioning the "emoticlones". These fun little guys are called by the fanon term given to Raven's "emotion clones", the separate parts of her that express a specific set of traits based on particular aspects of her personality. I had so much fun playing with their voices and thoughts in Dove's head during DDD, you have no freaking idea! I also copied the concept of them having Colored Cloaks from Teen Titans canon, because honestly it's a quick and easy way to identify them, and the fandom's familiar with this system through Raven.

Which colors mean what was more inspired by details from a really old, now-defunct website called Cartoon Orbit that had separate "online trading cards" for each of Raven's emoticlones! On that site, Raven's were labeled as such, and this is what I based Dove's system on, loosely: - Pink: "Raven Happy" - Red: "Raven Rage" - Orange: "Raven Rude" - Yellow: "Raven Smart" - Green: "Raven Brave" - Brown: "Raven Fear" (I'm pretty sure there was a purple one, but I don't recall what it was called. "Love" maybe? That might be from fanon; this site was running like 15 years ago, and I was like 10 years old, so I hardly thought to pay Super Special Attention to it...)

But I digress. The point is, I adapted that system for the key aspects of Dove's unique personality, and came to understand them as follows:

- Pink: Joy, relief, coziness - Red: Cruelty, impulsivity, anger - Orange: Apathy, indifference, disregard - Yellow: Curiosity, study, intrigue - Green: Courage, determination, activity - Blue: Contentedness, pacifism, spirituality - Purple: Compassion, friendship, romanticism - Gray: Sadness, grief, longing. - Brown: Fear, fear, fear!

But for Dove's mind in particular, it's not only HER experiences and personality that form the world! She's a telepath, and though she holds others' privacy in very, very high regard and tries never to read someone's mind without their permission, her sense of receptive telepathy is ever-present. Echoes, lights, shadows, reflections of others' memories and thoughts might affect the very edges of her mind. It's a constant sense, but it only ever causes very ephemeral changes unless something deeply affects her.

Her mindscape also grows and changes as Dove grows and changes, experiences life, learns to cope, and changes how she handles her own emotions.

Most notably, the internal struggle in DDD tore her mind apart. Initially it was due to a breakdown of certainty and confidence, hastened by guilt and grief, but it soon became a deliberate tactic to wage war on the parts of Dove's mind that were trying to resist the evil; eventually her inner demon began intentionally breaking/corrupting everything it could touch.

By chapter 20, that evil is the only strong and stable thing in Dove's mind. Raven's attack to remove the evil in her took away that stability, and strength, and thus took away what was essentially the last support holding Dove's mind together. As it says in the story: "everything collapsed". Dove's mindscape was utterly destroyed, and only the most basic aspects of her remained.

For awhile, that left Dove unable to remember things clearly, or feel emotions without great pain. Rebuilding it to the point where she was able to talk and feel Mostly Normally again took months of meditation.

When Dove is kidnapped and Leyla has distressing dreams about her mother, she, Srentha, and Raven use the mirror to check on Dove by accessing her mindscape. With her powers stripped away, surrounded by people who mock her, and certain Fauni rituals sickening Dove to her soul, naturally her mind is very different: shadowy forms flitted at the edges of vision, the ground wavered, her discomfort was thick in the air and the constant fear made everything so, so cold. "Shadows" of others' thoughts flashed in and out of existence, and Dove's desperation manifests as fleeting voices on the wind. It's uncomfortable to be in her mind while she's so distressed.

It's also worth mentioning that her mindscape changes again, essentially "growing" the part of her that belongs to Love when she finally lets herself love Srentha, and it expands again when Leyla's born and Dove once more finds depths of love she didn't know she could carry.

[insomniamamma]

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

   1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.    2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

          "’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

        The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered.          "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’"  Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

     He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with.  On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after--          "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing--          "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

       The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain--        Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says.        "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?"        "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils.        "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?"        "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand.        "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

       "Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him.        "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--"        "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy.        "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes.        "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands.        "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--"        Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds.                                                                                     Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

       "Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found."         "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend.        "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel."        "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man."        "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?"        "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up."        "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round.        "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow.        "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware."        "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!"        "Daniel!"

--Stars--

       Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it--        Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still--        "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!"        "Whazzit birdie?"        "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie.        "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud."        "You sure?"        "Go back to sleep, Cee."

       "Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling--        "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him.        "Yuh. M'awake birdie,"        "I gotta pee," she says.        "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail,"        "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent.        "Alright, just gimme a second," he says.        "I'll get the light,"        "We don't need it," he says.        "Ez-"        "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

       Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers.        "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him.        "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks.        "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it?        "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his.        "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

       Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach.        "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going."        "Not right now. I want some quiet."          “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

       Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not.        "I love you, Cee."        "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 3

A/N: I had a day off from school and finished some of my homework so I had some time to write. Please don't expect this consistency, it's a rare occurrence lol

AO3

Simon’s stomach was in knots all day. Several times, he felt the urge to rush to the restroom and throw up.

His first couple of days in New York went fine. His aunt and cousin showed him around all the tourist areas, bought him souvenirs, and took him to their favorite restaurants. He even got a picture with Elmo at Times Square. (Why were there so many Sesame Street characters?!) They also got him a new phone number, showed him how to navigate the bus and the subway, and talked to him in English so he could practice.

Simon’s English wasn’t terrible, per se. He grew up watching shows and movies in English with Swedish subtitles. And he didn’t do too bad in his English classes. But, he never had to speak it 24/7 before.

So, when he walked into his new school with Ana, he was immediately bombarded with all the English words, phrases, and slang – it all made his head swirl. Ana introduced him to some people she knew, they spoke to him in English, and he stumbled through his answers. And, sadly, because Ana was a grade ahead of him, he was left alone to fend for himself when it came to time to go to classes.

He did manage to fake confidence, introducing himself to his classmates and answering a few questions. He could follow the lessons just fine and answered when called upon by teachers (except in American History, he definitely needed help there). But, for the most part, he stayed quiet.

At lunch, he sat with Ana, who introduced him to her friends. All three were girls. Two of them were Latina, Alicia and Luz, and one girl was white, Elizabeth (“You can call me, Liz,” she told him). They spoke to each other in Spanish (even Liz) and it was the first time all day that Simon felt the unease in him boil down to a simmer. It was still there but hearing the familiar language was a comfort.

And he now knew why Ana insisted they packed lunch – the school’s food didn’t look that appetizing. Even Hillerska had better food. (And thinking of Hillerska made him think of Wille, which just made him feel depressed again.)

When his last class of the day finally dismissed them, Simon was ready to go home and take a nap. He was exhausted – physically and mentally. But, Ana had other plans.

“Hello, everyone! As you can see, we have someone new joining us today!”

She gestured to him with a flourish and Simon blushed in embarrassment as many eyes focused on him – curious and interested.

“This is my cousin, Simon, he just moved here from Sweden. I hope everyone makes him feel welcomed. Please don’t scare him off.”

Simon awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waved. “Um… Hi… Um… I’m Simon. Sorry, uh, my English isn’t very good. But, I’m practicing.”

He was met with silent nods and Simon almost sighed in relief. Almost.

“You look familiar!” A guy with long blonde hair piped up from the back.

Simon’s stomach churned and he wanted to run away. No one was supposed to know who he was. They reassured him that the whole thing died down fairly quickly in America. How many of these kids have watched the video?! Did they know who he was as soon as he walked in?!

“You look like a Spanish version of Nick Jonas!” continued the guy.

The churning calmed a little.

Ana glared, placing her fists against her hips. “Shut up, Darren. Simon is not the Spanish version of anyone.” She paused and glanced at him. “But, if he is, he would be Harry Styles.”

“It’s the curls!” a girl with dark hair with pink tips called out with a grin. “They’re really cute!”

Before he knew what was happening, Simon was bombarded with compliments about his hair and face. He could swear he had never been as red in his entire as he was in that moment.

Soon, a different guy stepped up, willing everyone to calm down with his hands. “Okay, everyone, stop simping over Ana’s cousin. It’s time to start the meeting! We have a lot to talk about today!”

Ana nudged Simon and gestured with her head to the back of the classroom. Simon followed her. She took a seat next to the window. The empty seat beside her was across from the guy who spoke up earlier.

As the guy at the front (“That’s Dominic, he’s the president of GSA,” Ana had whispered to him) began to go over the agenda for the day, the guy next to Simon leaned over.

“Hey, I’m Darren,” he whispered with a toothy grin. “I’m your resident pansexual.”

Simon bit his lip and whispered back. “Simon. Do we… have to share our sexuality here?”

Darren chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, you’re not obligated to. Some people are here just as allies but a couple do end up figuring themselves out. So we tend not to label or share labels. But, I don’t give a shit, I want everyone to know they have an equal chance of dating me. So, that includes you.”

He winked and Simon, to his horror, felt himself blush again. He was just gonna end up looking like a tomato by the time he returned to Sweden if he kept this up.

“Darren! Anything you wanna share with the class?”

“Nope, prez. Just welcoming our new member. Please proceed, you know we love listening to your gorgeous voice.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow at him before getting back to what he was saying.

“I’ll get you to say ‘yes’ to me, eventually,” Darren muttered under his breath.

Simon couldn’t stop a chuckle from leaving his lips. Darren flashed him a grin and, for what it was worth, Simon finally felt a bit at ease.

He snuck a look at Ana, who caught his eye and smiled, encouragingly.

Maybe she was right. He could meet new people here and make new friends. Maybe, for just a few months, he could forget everything that happened in Sweden and just be... back to normal.

He was willing to try. If only this empty feeling inside him would go away.

.........

If Wilhelm thought that Christmas break without Simon was bad, being at school for a month without Simon was worse. Everywhere he looked and turned, he half expected Simon to be there, looking at his phone or eating a clementine or flashing Wilhelm a smile that made his cute dimples appear.

More times than he could count, Wilhelm had run after Sara, practically begging her for any information on Simon. The girl always refused him.

“Give her time,” Felice said to him one day after another failed attempt. “She loves her brother and she’s on his side.”

“I just want another chance to apologize,” said Wilhelm. “I want to make things right. And I want to at least be friends with him again.”

Felice wrapped an arm around him. “You will. Just give it time, okay?”

Wilhelm had agreed, if only to reassure himself that he was going to be fine. Maybe the longing would stop. Maybe he would wake up one day and just accept the fact that Simon was no longer in his life.

He knew it was all a big fat lie but it was okay to dream, right?

Which was why he decided to take his chances that one Saturday. Students were allowed to leave the school grounds on weekends to visit the town, if they so pleased, so Wilhelm took advantage of that. With Johan driving and Malin in the passenger’s seat, they left Hillerska for the day and headed to Bjarstard.

His stomach was filled with butterflies. Excitement or nerves, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. He ran over various things to say in his head. But, when they pulled up in front of the familiar one-story home, he forgot it all.

Nevertheless, he raised his chin and marched with determination to the front door. He hoped Simon was home. That Wilhelm could finally see him. That they could finally talk. He just hoped he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Clearing his throat, he raised a fist and knocked, firmly and loudly, against the door. It took a minute but, eventually, it slowly opened, very slowly.

Linda peeked out, looking wary and cautious. But, when she saw Wilhelm, the guarded look switched to surprise.

“Wil… Your Royal Highness,” she greeted with a slight bow of her head.

Wilhelm hated it. He preferred Linda’s casual treatment of him as if he was any other kid. He supposed he didn’t deserve that anymore after what he did to her son.

“Wilhelm, please,” he said to her, managing a small smile. “Hello, Linda.”

The woman smiled, fondly, and she opened the door a bit wider. “Hello, Wilhelm. How are you, cariño?”

The gentler tone eased his worries.

“I’m… fine.” He cleared his throat. “Um… Is Simon home?”

Linda’s smile disappeared. “Why?” she asked.

Wilhelm flinched, hating that the guardedness in her voice was back. “I just want to talk to him. He left Hillerska and I… I just want to apologize again and… Please.”

He must have looked rather pitiful because he could practically see Linda’s resolve melting. She stared at him for the longest time, contemplating. Finally, she nodded and let him in.

Wilhelm’s heart skipped a beat and he had to hold himself back from running in and calling out Simon’s name. Malin, dutifully, followed behind him, shut the door, and stood guard.

“You can head on to the living room,” said Linda. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Wilhelm nodded and did exactly that. He made himself comfortable on the lumpy couch and looked around. The place looked neat and chaotic as always. A basket of Simon’s favorite, clementines, was placed at the center of the coffee table. He once told Wilhelm that it was the one fruit he couldn’t live without.

Then, he spotted a new addition against the wall that led towards the bedrooms. Well, not new per se but it was no longer in Simon’s room. (And, thinking of Simon’s room led him down a path of memories that made the longing in him increase tenfold. Where was Simon? Was he out for the day? Wilhelm would wait until night if he had to.)

“Here we are.”

Linda arrived with a tray filled with two mugs of tea and a plate of cookies. She placed it on the coffee table before handing one of the mugs to Wilhelm.

“Thank you,” he said taking it and looking back at the fish tank that was now placed against the wall. “Why did Simon move his fish out here?”

Linda, who was in the middle of placing the plate of cookies on the table, looked up towards the tank. A sad smile graced her lips.

“Well, I have to remember to feed them now so it’s easier if I see them,” she said, picking up her own mug and settling on the couch.

Wilhelm frowned, confused. “Why do you have to feed them? Doesn’t Simon do that?”

Linda looked at him for a moment, sad again, and took a sip of tea before placing the mug on the table. She tugged her wool sweater tighter around herself and crossed her arms at her stomach.

“Wilhelm,” she began. “I want you to know that… I’m not angry with you, okay? And, I’m sure that Simon isn’t either.”

Wilhelm’s stomach churned and he took a polite sip of the tea before following Linda’s lead and placed the mug on the table.

“What happened to both of you… you don't deserve it.” She reached out, probably to touch his hair, but refrained at the last minute. Instead, she patted his shoulder and pulled her hand back.

Wilhelm longed for her motherly touch.

“But, as a parent, I had to protect Simon.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and brought a hand up to rub at his tightening chest. He didn't like her tone. It was foreboding. The gentle calm before the storm.

Linda’s eyes flickered to his hand and scooted closer. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Wilhelm leaned into it.

“Wilhelm… cariño… Simon left Sweden.”

Wilhelm’s world crashed.

“There were stalkers, they kept following him home. And the reporters wouldn’t stop asking him questions and one day… he got hurt.”

The tightening in his chest wouldn’t let up and he rubbed harder.

“I had no other choice. I had to send him away for his own safety.”

Stalkers... Reporters... Simon got hurt because of him. And, now, he was gone. No longer in Sweden.

“W-Where?” he managed to ask.

But, Linda shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

Wilhelm’s eyes stung. “L-Linda… I-I’m s-sorry… I’m so… s-so sorry…”

Finally… Finally… Linda moved closer and pulled him into a hug. Wilhelm couldn’t help himself. He hugged her back and cried into her sweater.

She rubbed his back, whispering, “I know. It’s okay to cry, Wille. It’s okay.”

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he cried but, at some point, he did calm down. Maybe it was because Linda started humming a nice melody to him. Or maybe he was just spent and tired. But, not once did Linda let him go. Despite everything, she still chose to comfort him.

He had to force himself to move away from her arms, guilty and grateful at the same time.

She smiled at him. “Feeling better?” she asked.

God, it reminded him so much of Simon always asking after him that he wanted to cry again. It was clear to see that Simon got his gentle kindness from his mother.

“Yes,” he croaked. “Thank you.”

She picked up his mug and handed it over with a pointed look. He obediently drank the now lukewarm tea. It did little to soothe his sadness, but it was still nice.

“He won’t be gone forever,” said Linda with a smile. “When this all dies down… when the country forgets and moves on to something new, he’ll come back. Just… for now… I need him safe in a place where no one knows him. It’s what’s best for him.”

It made perfect sense. But, it didn’t mean that Wilhelm liked it. Simon was further away from him than ever. At least, if he was still Bjarstard, Wilhelm could still visit. He could still try to rebuild their friendship. And, when he was finally ready, he could ask Simon to give him another chance.

But, now, Wilhelm didn’t even know where he was. And Linda clearly didn’t want to tell him, worried she was about Simon’s safety. (A part of him wondered if she was also protecting Simon from Wilhelm. That thought hurt but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.)

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” Linda asked. “It’s kind of lonely with just me now, with Sara at Hillerska and Simon...” She trailed off and sighed.

Wilhelm pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to impose.”

She patted his arm and offered a smile. “Not at all. Your bodyguards can join us, too. I have plenty. I’m still not used to eating alone.”

The temptation was too good to resist. Besides, he didn’t want to return to Hillerska and suffer through a meal where August only sat a couple of chairs away, always wanting to talk to him even though Wilhelm never responded.

“Alright,” he agreed, smiling back.

Linda beamed and stood up. “Okay, good. I’m almost done cooking. Make yourself at home.”

“Can I… Can I feed Simon’s fish?” he asked, nervously.

Linda chuckled. “Of course. Their food is right on top. You can just move the cover. Simon says four shakes is enough.”

With one last smile at him, she gathered up their mugs (she left the cookies on the table) and headed off to the kitchen. He heard her extend the invitation to Malin, who thanked her and promised to call Johan in.

Pulling himself together, Wilhelm stood up and approached the fish tank. A small container labeled “fish food” in Simon’s familiar print was on top. He picked it up before carefully moving the cover to the side. He counted out four shakes and watched as the little bits of food floated down towards Olle, Oski, Felle, and a fourth fish whose name Simon never told him (because Wilhelm had distracted him enough to forget).

“I miss him,” he whispered, watching them eat. “I bet you, guys, do too, right?”

The fish ignored him.

Were they mad at him, he wondered? Did they know what he did? Did Simon cry in front of them?

Sighing, Wilhelm put the cover back and the fish food on top of it. Then, he headed off to the kitchen to help Linda set the table.

It was the least he could do.

...

A/N: Yes, I went back to watch the scene and counted Simon's fish lol

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight)

“Alright, remember everyone: this is a rescue mission.” The Doctor, a knife as long as her forearm in hand, was giving a final brief to her team. “We already have ground teams clearing the streets of Reunion so we can get in, find survivors, and get them out of here to somewhere much, much safer, whether that’s RI or somewhere else. Do not engage hostiles unless absolutely necessary, especially since they may be confused civilians and not Reunion. Are we all clear on our objectives here?”

A hand came up in the back of the vehicle. “When do we meet back here?”

“You’ll rendezvous with our mobile command center whenever you escort survivors to it. Once you’ve filled your van, you’ll stand by the MCC to provide additional security, as the more people we find, the more likely tensions might rise. Thank you for the question, Fang...Anything else?”

“If a civilian does attack us,” Gavial added, “we try non-lethal force first, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, incapacitate as a first measure. If that is insufficient...do what you need to for the sake of the rest of those you find. Alright, going once...Twice...Each Squad has been given a direction; each of you should have a navigator to make sure you’re mostly sticking to that direction. Watch your GPS units, notate where you search and where you find survivors. Let’s go. Anyone who doesn’t know where you’re going, you’re with me.” And with that final clarification, each team found their assigned van, and the rescue team dispersed.

“Do you want to drive, Doctor?” Amiya gestured to their van.

“That I do not.” She handed her protege the keys. “But I do call shotgun.”

Gravel bolted into the vehicle. “I call behind the Doctor!”

“The undying thirst continues.” Warfarin rolled her eyes but nonetheless followed the Zalak’s lead.

“I did remember to teach you how to drive stick-shift, yes?” The Doctor asked once they were all in the car.

Amiya gave her a quizzical look. “Dr. Kal’tsit taught me to drive, Doctor.”

“Oh...” She looked around for a second seatbelt before taking a deep breath. “Well, girls, this might be a little bumpier than I expected...”

And with that, the Caster set her pedal to the metal, and they were off.

“From what I remember, we encountered a heavy presence coming from the direction of Peterheim Middle, so we should at least make a pass by it...Left at this intersection.” The Doctor had given herself the role of navigator for her team.

“I see a flag!” Meteor called out. “Right side of the road, two buildings up!...If you can call it a building still.”

Savage grimaced. “Geez. It looks like it collapsed in on itself.”

“Catapult’s work. Just the blast residue is enough to identify that much...Amiya.”

“Right.” She slammed the breaks, accidentally turning it just enough to send it spinning out of control for a moment. Luck was with her, however, as the spiral left them not only still on the road, but on the sidewalk next to the crimson flag. “Um...Sorry about that!”

The passengers recollected themselves quick, fast, and in a hurry to get to the business at hand. “Savage, looks like you’ve got some work to do.”

“If there are people in there, though, I might hurt them. I don’t have fine control over how much force I transfer...”

“If you swing at the left wall, it’ll destabilize it to the point the rest of the debris will fall to that side.” The Doctor gestured with her blade to a point in the left wall. “Flag’s on the right side, better chance they’re on that side than the other.”

Gravel returned from a trip around the building. “They’re on the left! I just talked to someone named Rada! They’re all in the kitchen, along this wall!”

“The wall I was gonna smash for you, Doctor~” Savage walked over to the right wall of the building, looking for the best place to hit from.

“Thanks, Gravel.” The Doctor sighed. “Alright, Warfarin, be ready for first aid just in case. Meteor, you’re on overwatch, just in case. Amiya, Gravel and I will standby to help them get out-”

There was a *boom* as the already degraded structure fell in on its right side, removing a great deal of the rubble stacked precariously in the center and making the left side seem manageable. “Step 1 done! I wonder if-”

“Gah!” Accompanied by the sound of someone exerting a great deal of effort, a single brick was pushed out, followed by a hand. 

“Alright, new plan!” The Doctor dashed towards the rock pile. “Everyone except Warfarin, let’s clear this rubble out!”

As four pairs of hands worked to safely clear away bricks in order to leave a hole without collapsing any on those trapped inside, the hand that broke through initially revealed itself to belong to a teal-haired Ursus girl in a tattered middle school uniform, looking for all the world as if she’d crawled on her hands and knees through hell and back. Another figure, a blonde Ursus, joined in as well, babbling her thanks as Gravel and Amiya tried to calm her down. Eventually, they’d safely cleared enough for a crawlspace, which they both climbed through, followed by three more of what could only be presumed were their classmates.

As Warfarin administered diagnostics and emergency nutrition, one of the survivors, a reddish streak visible in her hair even through caked blood and dirt, walked over to the flag as if in a trance and tore the cloth from the pole before wrapping it around her arm. Amiya noted this as Warfarin gave the Doctor the details of her scans. “Principle concern is dehydration - they’re surprisingly well-fed, all things considered, and most of the blood isn’t theirs. Even so, their adrenaline is causing massive spikes in their heart rate, so I would advise returning to the MCC so they can be calmed and more properly attended to.”

“Hmm...Yes, we should probably-”

“Savage!” Meteor called from further down the street. “We’ve got another one!”

The Cautus bounded that direction, skidding to a stop in front of a cellar door with what might’ve been a slab of foundation keeping it from being opened; through a crack in the boards that composed it, another Ursus person was visible, breathing feebly. “...Stand back!” With a grunt, she swung at the offending chunk of concrete, powdering it completely, before helping the Kuranta wrench open the door and retrieve another school-aged survivor. “Her heartbeat is so slow...We’ve got to move. Doctor! Start the van!”

“Amiya, the keys?” She handed them over instantly. “Thank you. Savage, can you hold her- Holy shit.”

“With all due respect, now’s not the time to stall out!”

“Right, right! Everyone’s in?” Confirmation from her team, acknowledgment from the teal-haired survivor. “Vroom.”

-----

“She really said ‘vroom’ as she drove us back?” Leto asked Istina as the six members of the USSGG sat around the dinner table.

“She did,” the advisor nodded. “It was such a strange occurrence, I’d be rather hard-pressed to forget it.”

Zima tore off a piece of steak as she said, “I was sure I took a bandana, not a flag.”

“They called it a flag, whatever it was originally. More tea, Zoya?”

“No, I’ve had enough, thank you.” Absinthe sighed. “This does explain why Meteor has her eye on me, despite the fact I’m not a Sniper.”

Gummy nodded. “She’s also really friendly. We should go to one of her board game nights some time!”

“That sounds like a great idea. Natalya, did you get everything you need?”

 “Yes, this should be sufficient.” The Sniper finished her notes with a flourish. “I must say, I’m impressed you remember so much about that day, considering the state we were in.”

Istina shrugged. “There are some moments you can never, must never forget...As we all know quite well.”

“Mmhmm.” Six Ursus nodded their heads in unison.

“I should take this to the Doctor before her shift ends.” Rosa set her teacup in the middle of her empty plate and stood up. “Don’t start the movie without me.”

The general flashed her a mutinous smirk. “No promises.”

“Right. I’ll be back soon!”

“...So are we starting the movie?” Leto asked, looking around the table. “I mean, we can at least get the trailers out of the way, right?”

The chef got up. “Zoya, can you help me with the dishes tonight?”

“Sure, Rada.” Absinthe took her own plate, Zima’s, and Leto’s, and walked off to the kitchen.

“It feels like we’re a real family now, doesn’t it?” Leto leaned back in her chair, pushing her legs against the round table’s center post. “Like a sisterhood or something!”

Zima gave her a quizzical look. “Family, sure, but sisterhood? Your brain stays on after 2100 hours, right?”

“I dunno, Sonya. Deepcolor has a couple books that-”

“That’s enough of that.” Istina took her place in the precisely-established TV room arrangement. “We’re waiting for them to finish with the dishes before starting the movie, yes?”

The general and brawler followed her, with Zima giving the advisor a nod. “And for Nat, is she’s not back by then.”

“Oh? So she is growing on you, huh?” Leto tapped her target’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah. That a problem?” She grinned back, returning the play-punch a little harder. “I won’t hesitate, bitch.”

The brawler tackled her, landing squarely in the brawl-space Istina and Rosa had set aside specifically for moments like this. “Then I won’t, either!”

“...Hopefully Natalya returns before one of them knocks the other unconscious.”

[madschool01]

What you need for a career switch to becoming a designer

Career switching in Singapore can be a daunting experience for anyone, whether you're making a small pivot or taking a massive leap into a completely new field. It’s a step out of your comfort zone, and even with the countless pieces of advice and wisdom from friends, colleagues, or the internet, uncertainty often lingers. The thought of starting fresh and learning the ropes can feel overwhelming, especially in a competitive landscape like Singapore.

This is particularly true for creative industries such as design. Unlike more conventional fields, creative roles are often dynamic, requiring a blend of technical expertise and artistic intuition. If you're switching from a completely unrelated profession—whether you're in finance, teaching, or logistics—moving into design can feel like a whole new world.

The design umbrella itself covers a wide spectrum of roles: from graphic design to UX/UI, fashion to product design, and beyond. It can be confusing figuring out where to start, what skills to learn, and what resources to tap into. In Singapore, the design industry is flourishing, with many opportunities available for those willing to upskill and get involved. But before diving in, it's important to understand the essentials for making that switch.

Whether you're exploring courses, building a portfolio, or networking with local designers, having a strategic approach will make the transition smoother. In this article, we’ll cover the key steps you’ll need to take if you’re planning a career switch to become a designer in Singapore.

We’ll help guide you through the resources available, from design courses to certifications, and discuss how to get your foot in the door of this exciting, ever-evolving field. Whether you’re eyeing graphic design, interior design, or UX/UI, our guide is here to help you navigate this journey.

Identifying Your Niche

There are many kinds of designers, ranging from user experience designers to product designers and more, and each requires their own area of expertise. Before immersing yourself into a career in design, it would be good to have a rough idea of what kind of design you would like to focus on. A clear goal would enable you to specialise much earlier, dedicating your time and effort into gaining knowledge and skills in that line of work. Given the stage of life you may be at when undertaking this career switch, time may well be of the essence.

To learn more about the different kinds of design professions, dive into research online, or reach out to others already working in these roles to hear their experiences. After all, what better way to get an authentic view of a profession than to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth? If you are more of a hands-on person, try sourcing for taster courses online, or in-person. These courses are more touch-and-go, but can give you a brief overview of what each design role encompasses, and what individuals in these lines of work may have to deal with every day. From this, it may be easier to formulate an opinion on which design job is most suitable for you.

Of course, if you are still not entirely sure which role suits you best, and you can afford the time to explore, it is fine to dabble in different areas of design until you discover what works best for you. A career switch should never be a hasty, uninformed decision, and you should take the time to carefully weigh the costs and benefits of your prospective path.

Design Diploma

If you have long since stepped out of school, you might be thinking reluctantly, “Why do I need to go through this again?” Understandably, getting a design diploma may sound like a massive time sink, coupled with the time loss from starting a different profession anew. In truth, obtaining this diploma is an extremely worthwhile investment.

Having a diploma opens doors for you professionally, as it vouches for your competence and credibility. When prospective employers see that you have a design diploma – be it a graphic design diploma, a user experience design diploma, or any other kind of design diploma – it immediately informs them that you have attained a solid foundation, and this may net you more opportunities, especially in companies, who may sort potential candidates based on the qualifications on their resume.

Gaining a shiny new qualification aside, a design diploma course arms you with the hard skills and a comprehensive understanding of design principles necessary to stay afloat in the design industry. Of course, you could always attempt to pick these up through self-learning. However, this can take far longer, and you would have to locate resources on your own. A diploma course has the added benefit of being more structured, which allows you to learn in a more systematic way compared to self-learning, while keeping you on task. The access to dedicated lecturers, fellow learners and specialised resources also grants you greater support towards your professional growth and development.

For those currently working a full-time job, you might be concerned about being able to balance a diploma course alongside your current schedule. Thankfully, design schools offering diploma courses have become more aware of the growing demand from working adults to upskill themselves, and some have started offering evening classes, which may be more ideal for your tight schedule.

Design Portfolio

Should you have conducted your own research prior to reading this article, “Design Portfolio” is likely the most common phrase that has popped up as a requirement for entering the design industry. As the saying goes, “A picture speaks a thousand words” – as does a design portfolio for a designer. A design portfolio is critical to any designer, since it explicitly showcases the range of projects you have worked on, and allows prospective employers or clients to get a better sense of your abilities, and artistic direction, in the case of more artistic design professions.

This begets the question – how should you make a design portfolio?

Trailing off our previous point, enrolling in a design diploma course would require you to work on your own projects as deliverables, which can serve as samples to use in your portfolio. Otherwise, to grow your portfolio, consider developing your own samples. Depending on the design profession you are looking at, this can range from case studies and your solutions to address them, graphic design samples, or anything creative you have produced in your own time. You never know – it could be a personal project that earns you your new position one day!

As for presenting your portfolio, it would be ideal to have a website to feature all of your past works. This not only makes it easier for others to look through your portfolio, but the appearance of your website also lends itself as a testament to your design abilities – so do not underestimate its potential, and ensure that it looks clean and presentable.

            Switching careers to a design role can certainly present its challenges, but it’s often less daunting than it appears. The key steps involve building a foundation of knowledge and experience, developing a standout portfolio, and possibly enrolling in a graphic design course in Singapore.

Such courses help you pick up essential hard skills, gain industry-relevant certification, and boost your confidence in this creative field. For anyone starting out, creating a portfolio that showcases your talent and potential is critical.

A well-structured design course not only teaches you the tools of the trade—like Adobe Creative Suite or typography—but also provides an environment where you can start crafting your first professional projects. By acquiring a solid blend of practical experience and academic training through a properly crafted program, you set yourself on a path to transform your passion into a sustainable career. We hope this guide has provided a roadmap to kickstart your journey into the dynamic world of design.

[dragons-socks]

Baby Bumblebee chptr 4

////////Six Months Later\\\\\\\\\

Bee was walking home from school. Lennox and Ironhide were hunting down Decepticons in Europe, so he didn’t really have a ride today, which was fine. He didn’t mind not going back to the house when Lennox or Ironhide wasn’t there. It’s not that Bee didn’t like Sarah or Annabell, but they just didn’t really get each other. Annabell tried to poke at every nerve Bumblebee had, just testing his patience. And Sarah either babied him too much or acted as if he should already know how to do some complex human thing.

And then there was school. Apparently, Sarah was right about his name. Though Bee still didn’t understand how a girl in his class can be named ‘jasmine’ after a flower, but to be called after the insect that lets that flower grow and flourish… that’s taking it too weird? Not to mention no one in the institute knows morse code, and only a few, including his teacher know sign language. The school said they’d set him up with an interpreter. That has yet to be seen.

“Oh, hey, you’re Honey Bee, right?” Bumblebee jumped as a boy his physical age tapped him on the shoulder. Bee pulled out a small keyring of flash card that said common phrases to help him interact with people who couldn’t understand his other forms of communications. He tapped on the one with his actual name on it. “Oh, well I’m Raven.”

Bee made a saluting gesture; instead of his hand being horizontal and pushed in front of him, his palm was vertical and facing out while his hand moved away to the side of his temple. Then, Bee finger-spelt the boy’s name. Raven looked at his hands with wide eyes.

“Woah, you really can’t speak, can you?” Raven asked. Bee let out angry trills, glaring at the boy. He started to walk faster, getting away from the human. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that!”

Bee chittered, turning around and raising an eyebrow. You have one chance.

“I just didn’t want to believe Harvey. He’s always making up things about other people. My mom says he’s a bully.” Raven rambled. Bee nodded in agreement. Harvey was a larger kid in his class who kept trying to pick fights and make fun of Bumblebee. Bee would hand the kid’s ass to him, but he was still an Autobots and harming humans was still a big ‘no’ in his books. “We should be friends. I see you like Voltron. My favorite is the red lion, but the yellow one is alright too.”

Bumblebee shrugged, not knowing what this ‘Voltron’ was, but decided not to try to confuse the other with too complex interactions. This is the most pleasant conversation he’s had since being forced to partake in the human learning institution.

Soon Raven had to split off to go to his own home, but made Bee promise to meet up tomorrow to walk to school. Bee felt lighter for some reason, almost like he wasn’t so alone. Annabell picked up on his good mood as soon as he entered the house. A toy sailed through the air and whacked him in the forehead.

“Hey, Bee.” She smiled.

“Annabell, stop throwing toys. Go sit in the corner.” Sarah gawked. This turned into a ten minute scream-cry feast in which Annabell was forced to spend time in the corner for longer than her original sentence. Bumblebee was already set up at the table by this point, pulling out his homework. “How was school, Bee?” The woman said as she signed the words.

‘Good, I meet a new friend. His name is Raven.’ Bee signed, his feet kicking in the open air under the table.

“Oh, that’s nice, what did you guys talk about?” Sarah leaned over the counter, ruffling Bee’s hair. He huffed and waved her hand away.

‘He kept talking about some lion-show called Voltage or something? Said I liked it too, but I don’t know why he would think that.’

“You mean Voltron? Your bookbag is designed to look like one of the characters on the show. He probably thought you got the bag because you liked the show, not because it was yellow and black.” She explained, lifting up the bag in question. On the back in vinyl letters did read ‘Voltron’. “We could watch it. So you know what your friend is talking about.”

Bee shrugged at this. He’s tried to watch human entertainment, but nothing really caught his interest. Well, he’s only really seen whatever the Witwicky’s watched, and that was just through their living room window as he was parked in their driveway. Recently, Annabell has been making him watch her shows, which were all about learning numbers, colors, and being nice. At least she has her numbers and colors down.

“Yeah, it can be our thing, when you’re done with your homework we can watch a few episodes.” Sarah nodded to herself.

Annabell was returned from her sentencing. She shuffled up to Bumblebee, holding out the wooden block that she had thrown at him earlier.

“M’sorry, Bee.” She toed at the ground and gave him large puppy dog eyes. Bee huffed and took the block from her. He’s learned pretty fast to accept her peace offerings or have her throw another tantrum.

‘Yeah, I’m sure you are.’ Bee signed back. Annabell jumped around to her mom.

“Mom, what did he say?” Sarah shook her head at the young autobot. “He said, ‘apology accepted’.”

It didn’t take long to finish the easy equations or sentence structures his teachers assigned for his class. As soon as he put his work back into his bag, Sarah ushered him onto the couch and turned on their television.

“Get comfortable, sweetie, the first episode is the longest.” Bee wrapped himself in the yellow blanket that he’s since claimed as his own. As the episode went on, Bee found himself drawing parallels of his own life and the autobots to those of these characters. He was so immersed into this stupid cartoon that he didn’t even notice that Lennox had arrived and sat down next to his wife. Not until the episode was paused.

‘HEY!’ Bumblebee turned to Sarah, jumping a little when Lennox was also there.

“Hey to you too, kid.” Lennox said, his voice thick and his face contorted into worry. Bumblebee sat up.

‘Is Ironhide okay?’ Bee signed, trying to twist out of his cocoon to get a better look outside for the mech.

“He’s fine, Bee. But I do have some bad news. The Decepticons found the base. The Autobots had to be relocated and for your safety, we might not be getting their new location.”

‘But what about Ironhide? He still needs Energon to function. How will I find them once we’ve figured out how to change me back?’ Bee asked.

“They don’t think there’s a cure for you, Bee. Optimus thought it best to cut ties. Don’t worry about Ironhide. We’re still going to get shipments of Energon for him.” Lennox pulled Bee into his chest. Bee didn’t have room to sign his frustrations, but he also didn’t have energy to fight off his prison of warm arms. Instead he let Lennox’s voice swirl around his own thoughts that wanted to drown him.

_______________

Bee slipped out of the house. The moon, street lamps, and his blinking shoe steps were his only light to navigate out of the neighborhood and try to find his way back to Optimus. The mech might not want him, but that was where he belonged, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

It wasn’t the first time that he realized that walking was much more time consuming than driving. This was just another time that the notion ingrained itself into his head. This was the first time Bumblebee found himself walking for a long time after sunset. It seemed to take longer in the dark. It took so much longer to reach the school than it usually does.

Maybe it wasn’t the darkness of night that had Bumblebee shuffling his feet. Maybe it was the thought of seeing Optimus and the others after a month of not seeing them. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was in direct opposition of Optimus’s orders. This is the most rebellious he’s been in a long time. Bumblebee finds his feet stopping. He looks around and realizes he’s walked himself all the way just a house past Sam’s. The chill has already settled into his skin, but he’s just noticed his minutely shivers. His teeth are chattering, and he feels tired seeping into the very marrow of his human bones. His feet and legs ache. It must have been half the night gone by now.

A rumbling sound brings the rest of the world back into focus. Cars race towards him, screeching to a halt and boxing him in. At first he thinks its normal bad humans, until he recognizes the cars and notices the Decepticons’ insignias.

“I don’t get it.” Starscream’s voice is audible from his vehicular mode. “There is but a human child where the signal emits. No energon, no Autobots. Nothing.”

Bumblebee’s heart spikes. He backs away from Megatron’s right-hand. The other ‘Cons have switched back to their natural state. They leer down at Bumblebee. One even tries to grab at him. He rolls to the side, and books it for a crack in their formation. Breakdown snagged Bee’s leg, scooping him upside-down, before he could make it. Bee kept hissing and sputtering at the Cons, but they weren’t intimidated.

“It appears, Starscream, that the boy is the origin of the signal. Maybe Knockout’s weapon wasn’t as defective as we had first thought. This human child does have a striking resemblance to their mute scout.” Breakdown muses.

Bee lets out sharp whistles, hoping the sleeping humans around them will awaken, but its almost no use. His vision starts to blur as the Cons start moving away. He doesn’t know what to do. He starts pushing against the metal fist around his leg, but with each shove the only result is his palms getting hotter.

Bumblebee can feel in his gut that Breakdown is about to shift. He can hear the t-cog clicking its gears in the split second preparation of turning into the alt mode. Bee panics, pulling his arm as far back as he could and smacking hard onto Breakdown’s grip. Instead of being halted by the warm living metal, his hand pushed in with no resistance. A shot of blue energy cut a path from his hand to the open sky. Breakdown drops Bee on the ground in surprise. Bee is able to twist himself to land on his back rather than just his head. He ignores the searing pain of smacking into the asphalt and scrambles away from his capture. The other Cons make a quick double-back, but not before Bee is on his feet. His palms and fingers tingle from the heat, but are unharmed from the powerful blast-ray. Cons surround him. He pulls his arm back and lets out another blast, sweeping his arm in an arc and taking out a line of the enemies, and also some of the residential appliances.

“Bee?” It’s Sam’s voice as he scampers out of his house in a shirt and boxers. “Where’s Lennox? Why are you here?” Bee doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He sidesteps a blast from the Cons. Its not enough, Bee is grabbed again. His arms are pinned to his side in Starscream’s hand.

“I’ve got him, retreat.” Starscream proclaimed, ignoring Bee’s chitters and Sam’s shouts. A ground bridge was opened a few feet away. Starscream watched his men walk into the portal before turning to Sam with a viscous grin. “Till the next time, Witwick-”

Bee was once again hitting the ground. His back is singing and his ears are ringing from the gunshot. His vision is blurry, but he can still make out Mikaela cocking back a rifle as Sam ran to him. Sam carefully moved Bee away from the Decepticon, who was clutching his shot-up hand. There was a moment where it looked like Starscream was going to exact revenge. Luckily the portal behind him started to close and if he wanted a ride back home he couldn’t fight the humans. Everyone sighed with relief until they looked down at Bee.

The worried shouts of his friends were cut short as Bee’s small body finally gave it quits and fell asleep.

[prophecy-is-inevitable]

Indulgence of Divinity: Chapter 1

Michael Langdon x OFC

Four months after the events at Outpost 3, Michael begins to grow restless in the Sanctuary. His powers continue to grow seemingly without a purpose, and the Cooperative is clamoring to know his next move. Help arrives from an unlikely source that changes everything Michael thought he knew about being the Antichrist.

Rebuilding the world requires a delicate balance-destruction and creation, death and life, dark and light. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to do it alone.

Chapter Warnings: Mild Language (we’re just warming up)

Word Count: 3846

So excited to finally have the first chapter posted! Hope you enjoy! (Also posted on AO3 under the same title.)

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

Chapter One: Court of the Divinity

Water droplets traced the lean outlines along his torso and thighs while others collected in the hollow at the small of his back. The aqueous kisses briefly reminded him of caresses that yearned to memorize each dip and swell of a lover’s form. His eyes drifted closed as he tipped his head back, lips drawing apart to pass contented sighs, in an attempt to savor the sensation. How long it had been since it was more than an illusion… His head lulled with a deliberate slowness to feel the tension ebb and flow from the corded muscles across his shoulders, up the base of his skull, and down the center of his spine. A delicate floral note occasionally touched his senses that he couldn’t quite place as past or present, simply familiar; nonetheless, it momentarily quelled the chaotic swarm of thoughts plaguing his mind. Even kings deserved a reverie now and again.

Michael’s gaze flitted about the room as he stood from the bathing pool and retrieved his towel hanging from the decorative iron gate.

Flickering candles lined the stone alcoves and shelves carved centuries ago out of the grotto rock and filled the room with a serene luminance. Their reflections danced and swayed on the surface of the water only to writhe in the wake of his languid movements. The sheer array of burning wicks had produced a surprising warmth in the chamber–a warmth that drew memories from the rugged stone and imparted the scent of incense from pilgrimages long-forgotten into the air. A shrine to the Lord and his archangel Michael that once stood proudly at the front of the holy cavern had been reduced to nothing more than an opulent light fixture. It brought him a sense of satisfaction in no small measure, and a smug curl of his lips accompanied the thoughts of sacrilege.

‘How fitting that the Sanctuary of Saint Michael Archangel, his oldest shrine in Western Europe and a holy destination for centuries, would become the seat of power for the Antichrist of the same name. The Sanctuary of the Apocalypse,’ Michael mused while patting himself dry. The infernal heat thrumming through his veins made short work of any dampness left to his skin. The grotto he stood in had once been the location of a church. Since coming into the possession of the Cooperative, the pews had been removed to make room for a stepped recess to be carved into the floor and filled with water in the style of an ancient bath–an extension of his personal chambers. ‘Someone clearly thrives on irony.’ Of course, it was not to be lost on him and his smirk of satisfaction only grew as he pulled on the sleek black fabric of his pants.

The journey back to his rooms saw the return of Michael’s incessant thoughts of uncertainty. The existence of the Sanctuary had been somewhat of a surprise even to him. Then again, the best lies were always built from a foundation of truth. What had begun as a ruse to incite panic and chaos amongst survivors was apparently very much an actuality. An actuality that he had been living in for the last four months.

Outpost 3 had been the last for…liquidation. Once the task was completed, the Cooperative had sent him a communication informing him of an automated jet waiting to take him to a “safe place”. They didn’t want to risk the use of Transmutation, despite his ever-growing powers. The flight was long and turbulent from the dramatic air currents and storms swirling in the wake of the cataclysm. A coastal mountain topped with a medieval structure loomed outside the window as the plane started to descend. The Sanctuary.

Noticeable architecture and the few remaining geographical features alluded to a location somewhere most likely Mediterranean. Michael’s lips stretched into an open-mouthed grin, and his eyes burned from how widely they were opened as he looked at the landscape of his making. Previously turquoise oceans undulated in new scarlet waves onto a gray shore. Bare branches strained against the raging wind–their leaves decimated long ago. Armageddon had truly come, and it was by his hand. Sure, he had seen first hand the result of his handiwork in America, but the satisfaction of seeing the effects clear across the world… Michael remembered the way his chest swelled and his shoulders straightened with pride.

That had been four months ago . Fucking hell… What great accomplishments had he achieved since those glorious days of revelation? Once again, he had been left to do his father’s will with no direction, no help of any kind. The remaining Cooperative members were breathing down his neck like hellhounds, either trying to curry favor with absurd and depraved behavior (which he may or may not have accepted on occasion) or hovering for a command. How could he lead his people when he had no means of navigating the future himself? Even the stars were silent behind the eternal midnight cinders cloaking the sky.

He dropped onto the lush mattress and draped his forearm over his eyes. In times of stress, Michael’s mind conjured up images of a world that no longer existed and perhaps never had. The sense of familiarity surrounded him once again as he stood amongst the tall pines and colorful oaks. He remembered these woods. Birds trilled happily above as if pleased by his return. His blood no longer marred the earth in a ruby pentagram; sprigs of white bell-shaped flowers sprung up from the circle and perfumed the air with their sweetness. They were larger than last time. Michael crouched to slowly reach out a hand, palm up, to cradle one of the drooping blossoms.

“Do you like them? I’ve been practicing.” A soft voice reached his ears just as the scalloped tepals dusted the tip of his middle finger. The uncertainty in the voice made his brow crease. He turned his head with a frown to face the shimmering specter, their radiance shrouding any distinguishable features aside from their feminine figure. She was always there, stood in the same space his frantic young mind had hallucinated an angel while begging for his father’s aid.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” It was much more a statement than a question. Had his own imagination turned against him, too? Was this a subconscious manifestation of his own doubt?

“White and delicate isn’t exactly your style,” the figure said. Her tone had relaxed a bit at the sound of his disappointment.

“Perhaps that’s all the more reason for me to like it. A palate cleanser to the world before my eyes every other minute of the day.” The flowers captured his attention again when they began to bob in the breeze. “Beautiful,” he breathed. He couldn’t see a smile, but he got the distinct feeling of happiness from his companion. Curiously, his own heart beat a bit easier as the aura permeated his space. Michael straightened again to take in the full effect of the flowers and surround woods.

“Something’s bothering you, Michael. You’re never here otherwise,” she mused. The light shifted as she moved to sit on a mossy rock. He titled his head to look at her without turning his body. Long strands of golden hair fell over his shoulder and framed his face in the sunlight. A shrug tugged at his shoulder as he spoke.

“What comes next? Have I done all I was meant to do?”

“Is fire, blood, and chaos all you were born for?” A tight nod answered her question. “Doubtful.” She rose and stepped into the ring of flowers with him. The hair hanging in his face was pushed behind his ear by misty tendrils he perceived to be fingers. A slight chill tickled his cheek from the contact and caused the hair at the base of his neck to rise. “With each breath, you grow in strength and purpose.” One of the flower stems was placed in his hand. “Why do you think these have flourished? As you grow stronger, so do I. It would be pointless to give you more power with no purpose behind it, especially since you already hold more power than any being left in the world.” A dark chuckle bubble in his throat at that. Her words satisfied him when similar grovels from those in the Sanctuary would find his ire.

“Then why -” The presence of a frosted hand directing his gaze back towards the glowing woods stopped him short.

“Patience, Michael. Having power does not mean you have to be omniscient. It simply means you will be more than capable of whatever is required in time. You’ve given them what they wanted–there’s no reason to believe you would fail at that in the future.” Phantom fingers slid up his cheek and into his hair in a gesture of comfort and Michael closed his eyes with a sigh. “Patience, my king.”

The stone ceiling of his bedroom greeted him when he next opened his eyes. Goosebumps still prickled his skin as a reminder of his dream. For a few moments he did nothing but stare blankly, wondering if he could close his eyes again and return to the simplistic visions of his mind.

“Patience…” he grumbled, dragging a hand down his high cheeks and chiseled jaw. Could the Antichrist possess such a heavenly virtue? Michael couldn’t remember any recent time he was met with less than near-instant gratification. Several soft yet pronounced raps on the door put an end to his wishful thoughts of mental escape. That would be Ms. Mead, and he certainly didn’t want to keep her waiting. It wouldn’t do to treat the one person here that was truly on his side so poorly, and certainly not after she’d undergone such extensive repairs from the events at Outpost 3.

A rare, genuine smile graced his full lips when he pulled the door open to reveal the woman. The deep furrow of her brow and the shift of her eyes promptly removed the carefree expression from his face.

“You’re needed in the great hall.” The muscles around Michael’s eyes twitched in scrutiny. Only incredibly important or special occasions called for the use of the great hall, and he certainly hadn’t issued any grandiose decrees. She wasn’t pleased to be ignorant about whatever situation had arisen, either.

“I will be with you shortly once I’ve made myself presentable.” Michael acknowledged her request with an elegant incline of his head. Ms. Mead nodded quickly and turned on her heel to await him outside his chambers.

Michael quite enjoyed catering his looks to maximize the effect of his presence. Without knowing the purpose of this engagement, he would have to work with what previously resulted in the most success. Within three minutes, he was walking through the halls with Ms. Mead and rather pleased with his appearance. He had donned his usual black dress pants and tucked button-up, the buttons of the cuffs trailing well up his forearms. A luxurious black side button dress coat accentuated his broad shoulders and lean stature; Michael enjoyed the feeling of the fabric conforming so perfectly to his body.

Many survivors admired the thought that went into the Sanctuary’s design each time they walked the halls. Displays had been embedded into the mountain walls where the builders encountered the fossilized remains of prehistoric flora and fauna–lingering reminders that all origins were followed by the same undisputable end in time. Rivers of fire ran down trenches parallel to the walkways for sufficient lighting. Without access to the outside world, they set the fire to cycle intensity and mimic the path of the sun. At night, minerals were added to the oil to make the fire burn blue in homage to moonlight. Large fireplaces dotted the hallways for added warmth and light in the deeper parts of the mountain.

Today, residents of the Sanctuary that had found themselves a partner were happily clinging to each other in alcoves or corners. Some exchanged gifts they’d either made or traded for tied with red ribbon. Someone had poorly scribbled hearts decorating their package, and Michael’s eyebrows jumped momentarily in realization. Of course. It was February. Many of the survivors had chosen to observe the old holidays in a vain attempt at normalcy. If it gave them reason to remain happy and kept morale high, then he would allow them to cling to their absurd traditions. They smiled and waved, some bowing their heads in respect, as he passed them. An occasional brave soul wandered his way with the intention of handing him chocolates or paper flowers. Michael held up his hand to stop them with a small, appreciative quirk of his lips but shook his head.

“There’s no need for that. Your loyalty and support are enough.” They held eye contact for a moment until the person scampered away to a cluster of others standing by a fire pit. Almost immediately, Michael’s jaw squared and returned his expression to simmering annoyance.

“Ms. Mead,” he drawled, “why am I on my way to the great hall for an obligation that I can’t seem to recall arranging?” Her head shaking slightly was barely visible off to his side.

“This wasn’t arranged at all. These…people–Court of the Divinity they called themselves–just showed up and wanted to see you. Wouldn’t say what for, but I recognized the man in charge as a member of the Cooperative. Some high ranking clergyman or some bullshit.” Ms. Mead continued to shake her head and gave him a sidelong glance. “I don’t know where they get off thinking they can make such demands of their king. It’s impertinent if you ask me.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratory level. “We shouldn’t trust them.” Michael’s head tipped back with a pleased laugh.

“Oh, not to worry, Ms. Mead. We must attend to the needs of our people.” Michael stopped outside of the oversized mahogany doors and turned to the older woman. His hands came to rest on her shoulders as he fixed her with a pointed gaze. “And if they waste my time, it will be the last time that they do so.” Ms. Mead returned his look with a smile and watery eyes, one of her hands reaching out to delicately stroke the long curls resting over his collarbone before she replied. The pride rolled off of her in waves nearly as strong as the electronic pulses of her fabrication.

“That’s my beautiful boy.” Michael would always hold her affection in highest regard. With a deep breath, Ms. Mead returned to the moment and smoothed down his hair. “You go in ahead. I’ll retrieve your guests from the auxiliary hall. My king.” She left with a bow and beaming smile so Michael could take his rightful place in the extravagant throne chair at the front of the hall. He certainly cut an imposing figure. One leg rested crossed over the knee of the other, his elbows firmly on the arm rests to allow his steepled fingers to remain steady in front of his chest, and his jaw clenched with a minute grinding the longer he waited.

Several minutes passed before the heavy doors were opened and Ms. Mead, now wielding a stern expression, led in a bizarre group of men. Michael couldn’t help leaning forward a fraction in interest. Each man was dressed in different holy garb. A Buddhist lama, a Hindu sadhu, a Jewish rabbi. Those were only the ones in clear view. Still more troubling, not one of them did he recognize beyond the cardinal standing at their front. He had worked as the Cooperative’s source inside the Vatican for decades under the guise of a faithful God-worshipper. Michael lifted his chin out of habit at the man’s approach, heightened even more as the small congregation bowed before his dais.

“Cardinal Vicente Santori.” The name dripped off Michael’s tongue like saccharine wine. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your audience? For your sake, I would hope it’s something of the absolute utmost importance.” The cardinal bowed again. The tone in their king’s voice left no conflict regarding his displeasure.

“My king, as you know, we are more than 20 months through your prophesied reign,” Santori began. Michael’s intrigued gaze turned to that of ice, and he brought his chin to rest on his bejewelled fist.

“I am aware. So…what is this?” He opened his palm up towards them inviting silent answers. “As you said yourself, we are beyond the halfway point of the Apocalypse. It’s a bit late for any religious intervention.” Michael’s patronizing chuckle reverberated in the vaulted room, “Especially from you, Cardinal.” The man quickly shook his hands to brush away those notions.

“No. No, we are here for quite the opposite.” The slight tilt of the king’s head drew the cardinal’s attention before he continued. “You have done well in cleansing the stain of humanity from the world. You’ve also grown stronger since coming to the Sanctuary, haven’t you, my king?” When he did not receive a denial, Santori delved into further explanation. “We are the Court of the Divinity, tasked with a special purpose. We have the answers to that phenomenon: there is still more work to be done. Work that you cannot be expected to complete on your own. What we have experienced is only the beginning of your father’s great plan. Preparation of a canvas about to become your greatest masterpiece.”

“What would you know of this ‘work to be done’?” His father had refused to answer his own questions, yet these heretics claimed to have knowledge of his purpose? All Michael had ever wanted was answers. Would it be washed-up clerics that gave them to him? Michael ran his tongue over his teeth. The most irritating aspect of it all was that not a single one of them held a lie within their heart or mind.

“Satan was cast into the fire and chained amidst the burning lake against his will. Would you wish to remain in a prison for all eternity? Is that what you would base your greatest wish from? It is one thing to condemn others to share your fate, but it’s something else to rise above it. There has always been a deeper longing for Paradise, and what better way to secure his claim on Earth than by his son creating something that surpasses that of God. However, you will not succumb to such hubris as God, my king, for you won’t be alone.” There was a pause in the cardinal’s ramblings to let the information settle. Silence hung heavy in the air for so long that some of the men began to shift uncomfortably. Even Ms. Mead seemed to be holding her breath off to Michael’s side.

Their king stood, each vertebra aligning themselves one by one, until he reached his full height. His descent from the dais was marked by the crisp, measured knocking of his heeled shoes on the stone floor. Arms clasped elegantly behind his back, Michael approached the cardinal and looked him up and down. The older man was in his choir dress for what he must have deemed a special occasion; vibrant scarlet cassock with matching scarlet trim, red elbow-length cape over the lace-trimmed white rochet, and a red cleric’s skullcap. One item was notably missing; Cardinal Santori no longer burdened himself with the symbol of the cross. Michael stopped directly in front of the man to give him a sardonic smile.

“Will it be you, Cardinal, and your men that seek to help me with this task of surpassing God? The one you once promised to worship and honor with every breath and whom you have now forsaken?” They were so easily swayed by a little show of power. Michael had won their faith by hardly lifting a finger. The cardinal stepped aside and issued a beckoning wave back to the others. The group parted, three men on either side, to form a passage for the remaining associate at the back of their cluster.

“Unfortunately, the act of creation has always been a divine gift. We have never been blessed in such a way, though we have been given the honor of upbringing for the one who has. Our glorious purpose.” Soft heels clicked across the thin carpet runner approaching the dais. “God failed because there was no balance, which he now knows. There cannot be creation without destruction, no life without death, no light without the dark. To force one into extinction is to condemn the other. Someone once called you ‘the Alpha and the Omega,’ correct? Well, they were halfway right.” A slim hand settled into the one the cardinal left outstretched.

“My king.” Michael’s eyes quickly darted to the speaker when they stepped into his view, dipping into a low curtsey.

She was his opposite in every way. Delicate feminine features and form contrasted his strong, masculine bone structure and build. Her lustrous amber eyes met his aquamarine, and both pairs widened at the sudden jolt they received. Fire and ice. Twisting. Turning. Climbing from earth to sky. Something about her called to him. Something quietly familiar. Michael stepped forward with a creased brow while she allowed him to continue his observation. He swept a wave of her silken obsidian hair over her shoulder. Her breath shuddered momentarily, but her smile widened when their gaze met again. She waited patiently, allowing him as much time as he needed. After all, she had been patient long enough in waiting to meet him, and this gave her an equal opportunity to drink him in as well. His skin held the warmth of the fire he was born from in both color and temperature. She, on the other hand, seemed to be risen from the first winter snow. Could it be true that he wouldn’t be left to rebuild the world alone? Their proximity caused a breeze to weave through the room that centered around them. Years of waiting and begging and training…would this be the beginning of their purpose?

Clothed in flowing white, the crystalline vine embellishments captured the firelight to give her a glowing illusion. Chiffon draped from her shoulder straps and down her back in a delicate cape veil that did nothing to obscure the expense of her open back. More of the gentle fabric was braided across her chest to protect her dignity. A large portion of the bodice remained sheer except for more sparkling embellishments designed in the same intricate vine pattern. In place of a slit, the sheer fabric continued from the bodice, over her left hip, and down the entire left side of the otherwise modest, floor length skirt. It was a look meant to make an impression while still conveying the purity within her body and blood. Sensual yet sinless. She wanted him to be pleased, to be intrigued. And he certainly was in both respects. Cardinal Santori’s voice broke through Michael’s considerations.

“This… is the Divinity.”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Can you do prompt 81 with Arthur? And if it’s not too much to ask, maybe related to the archeologist!reader commission you did for me? (If not feeling it, anything else is totally fine.)

Number 81:

This is a cute idea! Sorry this took a little longer than usual. I’ve been hopping back and forth between works and I was trying to figure out what to make of this one in particular. Enjoy!

You hadn’t expected to find yourself back out West so soon.

Only a mere month had passed since you’d come back home to New York, initially having missed the urban jungle you called home. With the news of the Viking burial ground delivered, you were praised more than you expected to be. The men who once asked for you to fetch drinks were congratulating you on such a great find. You were listened to more often, and was even given a bigger workspace.

It was exciting to finally move up in the world, elated to finally have your words taken seriously for once. You hoped your endeavors would only continue to drive up hill from now on.

Though despite your happiness, something felt…missing.

You often dreamed of that place out West, the muddy little livestock town surrounded by what you could describe as something God himself had reached down and painted across the landscapes. It was a beauty that could not be appreciated from the tall buildings and cobblestone streets. You missed it more than you’d ever imagined, along with the man whom helped your wish into a reality.

The delicate ivory comb sat on your dresser. Even though you didn’t use it for its purpose, afraid it might bend or break due to its age. However you kept it in pristine condition, wiping the dust that accumulated on a daily basis. For days after your return, your hart would flutter when you set your eyes upon it.

Every day you’d check the mail, hoping for a letter from him. Disappointment would cloud your mind to find there was none, only to silently remind yourself you’d told him to write if he ever found anything else that would capture your interest. Still, you wished you had spent more time with him before coming home. Perhaps one day you’d venture out there again, whether or not it pertained to your career.

Though as your hopes had vanished, you’d received a letter from someone you’d never heard of: Tacitus Kilgore. Your first thought was to toss it until you’d gotten a look at the address, recognizing the origin as Lemoyne. You knew no one in that state, yet something persuaded you to open it.

And you were glad you did.

Turns out Arthur had written the letter. The writing seemed more complex than his simplistic manner of speaking. He explained a new site that he’d found on his travels. He described the location; a small cave deep in the wilderness. He included a rough sketch, including various statues of unknown origin.

You were on the train the very next day.

Sure, Valentine was nothing exceptional, yet it had its charm. You were overwhelmed by the scent of the sheep that carried through the air, followed by the crisp breeze that flowed down from the mountains. The mud squashed underneath your feet as you walked to the familiar hotel.

It didn’t take long for you to settle in, spending little time in your hotel room to get everything sorted. Afterward, you’d headed toward the stables in intent to lease a horse. After picking one and exiting the barn, a voice caught your attention.

“Didn’t think I’d see ya ‘round here again.”

Heart skipping a beat, you turned to see none other than Arthur Morgan himself, leaning against a fence post with a small smile on his face.

You had to staunch your excitement of seeing him, silently calming yourself to offer a smile back, correcting your posture with a lady-like flourish. “Well, you did write me.”

“Jus’ like you asked,” he replied with a slight chuckle. “Glad I ain’t a total fool thinkin’ you wouldn’t respond.”

“Well, you know how I am with new discoveries,” you giggled, strutting closer to him as your horse stepped closely behind you. “Glad you did write. It was nice hearing from you, I certainly missed your company.”

Immediately you regretted uttering that last sentence. Flames erupted in your face as you broke from his gaze. You weren’t sure why it was so embarrassing, you’d only interacted with him twice before. He was merely an acquaintance in society’s standards, though a gentleman for escorting you to the Viking tomb during your first visit. He didn’t have to, hell, Arthur seemed like the type that would pass by without a second glance. 

He didn’t seem to notice your fluster. “I ain’t nothin’ but ordinary, Y/N,” he chortled. “I appreciate it though.”

On the contrary he was opposite of the ordinary. You often thought of what would have happened if he hadn’t crossed paths with you. Maybe you would have stumbled upon the site out of pure luck, or perhaps you would have been kidnapped by those hooligans he’d warned you about. Either way, you were glad to have his assistance.

“So, you off to find the place I told ya ‘bout?” he asked.

His reminder brought you back to the present. “Yes, absolutely!” you answered. “Er, how far is it from here, exactly?”

“Come with me,” Arthur gestured with cocking his head to the side. “I’ll show ya myself.”

Your heart began to race from his offer. “W-why?” you stammered, pausing to control your voice. “Wouldn’t I be keeping you from something?”

“You won’t be,” he assured, stepping closer to you. “‘Sides, it’s a bit of a hike, and in a hidden area. Ya may end up lost if I don’t help ya.”

His persistence amazed and excited you. “Alright, lead the way Arthur.”

—

The cold air whipped around your face as you galloped behind Arthur across New Hanover. The land here was breathtakingly gorgeous, green fields, rolling hills and dense forests that appeared right out of a fairytale. Quaint cabins and homesteads dotted the land, surrounded by crops and farm animals. It must be such a simple way of life without the noises and thick air of the big city.

“How often are you out here, Arthur?” you’d asked after a while of silence. Upon the start of your journey, you’d had a quick conversation about what you’d been up to since coming back to New York. He was impressed by your news, happy that you were able to step up the ladder in your career. You’d asked him what he’d been up to, only receiving vague answers. The chatter died after that.

“From time to time.” he answered, slowing down a little to speak clearly to you.

“And you live in Lemoyne?” you continued.

He shrugged. “For the time bein’. I tend to…hop ‘round from place to place.”

That would explain why he seemed so well-traveled. You wanted to ask more questions about his life, until another had pushed its way to the forefront of your mind. “Who is Tacitus Kilgore?”

“Ah, it’s some feller I know. I’ve been stayin’ with him.” Arthur said.

You’d noticed a second of hesitation in his answer. Curiosity piqued as you wondered more about this man. Your thoughts vanished suddenly as Arthur took a sharp turn, urging his horse up the mountain. You followed suit.

“It’s a bit up a-ways,” Arthur called back to you. “Be careful, don’t let your horse slip.”

Arthur expertly navigated the side of the mountain, guiding you along steady paths along rock faces. The air grew crisp and colder with the higher altitude. You huddled over, a shiver passing deep through your body.

More time had passed, seemingly slower as the temperature dropped. Eventually Arthur slowed down, stopping just before a large rock formation. You peered at it with curiosity.

“There’s supposed to be a cave here?” You questioned. “Where’s the entrance?”

He dismounted, gesturing for you to do the same. Once your feet hit the ground, he led you around the mounds of stone, a small pathway appearing between them. He stopped and pointed, “There.”

You followed his finger, eyes scanning the surface until a fissure caught your attention. It was fairly narrow, enough that at first glance it would have seemed like a depression in the rock itself.

“Hope ya don’t mind tight spaces.” He continued. He waited until you did the same before trekking toward the mouth of the cave.

You at first assumed it was much more narrow than it appeared. However, both you and Arthur were able to pass in with ease. It was still a little too enclosed for your liking, however. You stuck close behind him. Having never been inside a cave before, excitement and nervousness flowed through you in anticipation of discovery.

The short tunnel opened up to a small cavern, which was partly illuminated from an opened in the ceiling.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Nude statues on pedestals, all facing inward to what appeared to be a bird in the center. You walked closer, observing the finer features. They were eroded with age, missing their faces or random appendages.

You turned to view the centerpiece, staring in surprise when you realized it wasn’t a bird. It seemed to be a hybrid with a mammalian body and bird wings, yet had the head of a woman.

“What do ya think that is?” Arthur asked, watching you from outside the circle.

In your studies and excavations, you never once came across anything so unique. You weren’t sure what to make of it. Ancient civilizations usually had statues and other builds to honor their deities. Gods and Goddesses of which were said to have many forms, whether human or animal.

“Well Arthur, quite frankly I have no idea.” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Seems to be a deity of some sort from how everything is situated. It doesn’t appear to be from any civilization that I’m aware of.”

He mumbled something about strange deities, along with something about a turtle. Stepping closer to you, he peered up at the standing statues. “Gotta wonder what kinda cult made these.”

“What makes you think it was a cult?” you asked with curiosity.

He gave a small shrug. “Cults make some folk do strange things. Worship strange…creatures.” he briefly gestured to the hybrid statue.

You considered his words for a moment. There was sense in them, you hadn’t personally had any sort of contact with one, though heard about them in your travels. Perhaps it truly was a creation of one. Regardless, you found it interesting.

“How did you find this place anyway?” you asked. “Surely you didn’t just stumble across the entrance, as obscure as it is.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he answered, and dug into his satchel for a moment before producing a leather bound book. “I found somethin’ else though, helped me find this place.”

You automatically stepped closer, peering at the pages as he quickly flipped through them, until landing on a page. Heavily sketched, it seemed to be a diagram mirroring the sight before you.

You’d also realized how good of an artist Arthur was.

“Ain’t too sure what it means, and why some feller wanted to draw it on a rock wall…” Arthur said.

You glanced back and forth between the sketch and the statues. Something pricked at your mind, telling you there was something…more to this.

You observed the statues again, your gaze traveling from top to bottom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, until you spotted something on the pedestal. You approached it, bending down to get a better view. It appeared to be some sort of button.

Glancing around, you took notice that every statue that made the circle had one.

Hm.

“Seems like there’s something more here.” you announced, pressing the button in front of you.

Nothing happened.

Arthur stepped up next to you. “Whatchu mean?”

“Every statue has a button. I wonder why…”

He glanced down at his book again, and gazed around at the other statues. “Think it’s important?”

“Might be,” you said thoughtfully. “Let me see that drawing again…”

He held the page toward you, which you began to study with scrutiny. You noted there were symbols next to every statue. There seemed to be some significance to them. Each symbol had a different amount of what appeared to be feathers attached. All but one, which one statue was missing an entire arm

Taking the journal carefully into your hands, you walked to each one that had been marked on paper. Taking a few minutes to observe every small feature, you came to notice they all had a different amount of fingers.

“They’re all missin’ a different bunch o’ fingers.” Arthur seemed to voice your thoughts.

You nodded, trying to assume a significance here. The mental gears in your head were turning. None of them had the same amount missing. Glancing down at the drawing a final time, you realized the amount of fingers on each statue correlated with the symbols.

You reached out and pressed a button in front of one, watching it depress into the pedestal. Nothing else happened.

Walking around to the other marked statues, you pressed the other buttons. Still, nothing happened. You frowned and stepped back, scratching your head in confusion.

Arthur watched you silently, his own expression puzzled. He scratched his scruffy chin in thought. “Somethin’ ‘sposed to happen?”

“Seems like it,” you rubbed your hair as you tried to think. “Hm…”

You hadn’t noticed Arthur move around more as you pondered the significance. Each statue with fingers missing, each different than the last. The buttons meant there was something to unlock, but what? A clue to what this odd little site was?

“Hey, maybe press ‘em in order?”

You blinked, your train of thought derailed. “What?”

“The buttons,” Arthur pointed to the statue that was missing multiple fingers. “None o’ them are missin’ the same amount, right? Maybe we gotta press ‘em in order of how many.”

You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t expecting that answer, yet it somehow made sense to you. “Alright, let’s give it a shot.”

—

It took much longer than you thought.

You and Arthur spent an immeasurable amount of time pressing buttons in numerical order, only to have fruitless results. By process of elimination you were able to narrow your tries down to a last few.

The entire time you’d expected Arthur to get frustrated and quit. He however was persistent, never once showing an ounce of irritation. He was just as determined as you to figure out this odd puzzle, even if it meant no personal gain for him.

Though by now you yourself were tired, feet aching and stomach growling. Cold began to settle in as the day grew later. You were thankful you’d packed some food prior to coming out here, although sleeping on the floor of a cave was less than ideal.

Taking a deep breath and praying this would be the one, you pressed a button.

Within in instant, an audible click echoed within the small cave. Your eyes widened as you whipped around for the source of the noise, seeming to originate from the center statue.

Glancing at Arthur, you both scurried over to it. As you looked from top to bottom, Arthur made a noise.

“Look!” he exclaimed, holding up an object that glinted even in the last of the sun’s rays. You did so, surprise overtaking you. Three gold bars rested in his hands. “Looks like they were hidin’ valuables.”

Your first assumption was they were offerings for…whatever deity this was. Yet why was there a puzzle? Was it just a clever way to stash them? Gold bars would fetch a hefty price to the right seller, especially for three of them. This only launched more questions surrounding the origins of this place, and why. Maybe there were more clues, or none at all. “Glad we solved that,” you said with a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t expecting gold bars.”

“I ain’t sure what I was expectin’,” Arthur chuckled. “Worth it though…” he held them out to you.

You blinked at his offer. “Why are you giving them to me?” you asked.

“Maybe they’re…I dunno, from some ancient civilization or somethin’.” he said with a shrug, but somehow you could tell it was a lie; even a simpleton could tell these were from modern times.Your eyes traveling from his face to his hands, you took the bars. The cold metal felt smooth against your skin. They were quite heavy, sporting a dull shine even in the dim.

Money wasn’t an important matter to you, never was. You could always sell these and move into a bigger apartment in New York, or find some other uses. Donate one to the museum for additional funding or for display.

You looked back to Arthur, who was gazing at you with a soft expression. You wouldn’t even have these if it weren’t for his diligence in the first place. You held one back out, pressing it into his palm. “You deserve one, too.”

He blinked, giving you a look of confusion. “You sure?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you said, “Of course Arthur! I wouldn’t have even found this place if you hadn’t volunteered to take me up here. Plus, you stuck around to help with the puzzle. I think it’s reasonable.”

A slow smile spread across his face at you words. “Heh, well…thank you.” he said as he tucked the bar away in his satchel.

“No, thank you…” you murmured. A moment of bravery overcame you as you stepped forward to place a kiss on his cheek. “For everything you’ve done so far.”

His smile turned shy, his head tilting down as a surprisingly child-like chuckle expressed from his lips. “No problem.”

---

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