#i've been listening to this on repeat since yesterday

[aphrogeneias]

tu terás por esse meio a glória do mundo, do mundo

e toda obscuridade fugirá de ti (e toda obscuridade fugirá de ti)

[jascurka]

sing my angel of music

[explodingstarlight]

the emo trinity is alive, well, and prospering in 2023

[theconqueeror]

ive never been more pumped going into a regular work day like today listening to Dreamcatcher's Justice 😭

[gremnda]

ohhhh Daffodil by F&TM ,,,,

[amourfae]

this song's so pretty <33

[phant0m-l0rd]

This breakdown is giving me intense Korn vibes (and I'm here for it). The riffs especially remind me of the main riff in Lies by Korn.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov

☆word count: 1.2k

☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.

To go home to you.

“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.

Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship. 

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.

Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.

“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.

“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.

Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”

“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”

“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.

The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.

“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.

“You fucking my sister?”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.

“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”

They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.

Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.

Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.

Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.

“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”

Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”

Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”

Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.

“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”

Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”

Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.

So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”

There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?

“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.

And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.

“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.

“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.

“So?” Gabrielle presses.

“So what?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”

Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”

He stiffens. “What for?”

He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.

“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”

“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”

“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”

He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.

“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.

“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.

He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.

“Just this once.”

It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you. 

When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.

Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.

Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.

Read chapter eleven here!

☆☆☆☆☆

:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[felix-lupin]

In Coraline, there’s a recurring theme with names and identity, and I personally don't think it's talked about enough. 

(As a note, this is dealing largely with the book, not the movie, although there are some hints of this theme in the movie as well)

Coraline’s neighbors constantly get her name wrong, calling her “Caroline” and not “Coraline”, to which she persistently corrects them. Despite her attempts, they never get it right, until chapter 10, in which Mr Bobo (Mr Bobinsky) finally gets it right.

"It's Coraline, Mister Bobo," said Coraline. "Not Caroline. Coraline." "Coraline," said Mr Bobo, repeating her name to himself with wonderment and respect. "Very good, Coraline."

It should be noted that, until this chapter, Coraline did not know Mr Bobo’s name either. In fact, it had never even occurred to her that he had a name. Up until then, she had just been thinking of him as “the crazy old man upstairs”, not as a person with a name. This moment, with her learning his name and him getting her name right, is a moment of genuine understanding and connection between the two, humanizing them both to each other.

Coraline’s other neighbors get her name wrong, which is representative of them not listening when she says anything, really, such as her telling Miss Spink and Forcible that her parents are missing and them literally not even acknowledging it at all??

"How are your dear mother and father?" asked Miss Spink. "Missing," said Coraline. "I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. I'm on my own. I think I've probably become a single child family." "Tell your mother that we found the Glasgow Empire press clippings we were telling her about. She seemed very interested when Miriam mentioned them to her." "She's vanished under mysterious circumstances," said Coraline, "and I believe my father has as well." "I'm afraid we'll be out all day tomorrow, Caroline lovely," said Miss Forcible. "We'll be staying with April's niece in Royal Tunbridge Wells."

Mr Bobo gets her name right after being corrected (only after being corrected alongside her using his name, mind you, showcasing her making an effort to listen to and understand him as well), which is representative of him actually making an attempt to listen and understand her. This point is further illustrated by a conversation Coraline had with the Other Mr Bobo in chapter 10.

As Coraline entered he began to talk. "Nothing's changed, little girl," he said, his voice sounding like the noise dry leaves make as they rustle across a pavement. "And what if you do everything you swore you would? What then? Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, not really listen to you. You're too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don't even get your name right."

He equates those in the real world not getting Coraline’s name right with them not listening to her, and fundamentally not understanding who she is. So, somebody getting her name right, then, shows them actually listening to her, and being willing to understand who she is.

The mice in the real world know more than they should be able to know, and they also get Coraline’s name right.

"The message is this. Don't go through the door." He paused. "Does that mean anything to you?" "No," said Coraline. The old man shrugged. "They are funny, the mice. They get things wrong. They got your name wrong, you know. They kept saying Coraline. Not Caroline. Not Caroline at all."

They seem to know about the other world, somehow, on some level, and the dangers it presents. Them getting her name right represents them knowing more than they should know, more than they are told. Animals in general seem to have this type of quality in Coraline, actually.

The cat does not have a name. It says so in chapter 4, that cats do not need names. It says that this is because cats know who they are. But humans need names, because they do not.

"Please. What's your name?" Coraline asked the cat. "Look, I'm Coraline. OK?" The cat yawned softly, carefully, revealing a mouth and tongue of astounding pinkness. "Cats don't have names," it said. "No?" said Coraline. "No," said the cat. "Now, you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names."

The cat shook its head. "No," it said. "I'm not the other anything. I'm me." It tipped its head on one side; green eyes glinted. "You people are spread all over the place. Cats, on the other hand, keep ourselves together. If you see what I mean."

This shows that, in humans, names are connected to our identities and who we are. Names are used to individualize and distinguish ourselves from each other. But cats do not need names to recognize each other, or be recognized.

"Oh. It's you," she said to the black cat. "See?" said the cat. "It wasn't so hard recognising me, was it? Even without names."

With or without names, it is still the same cat.

During the Other Miss Spink and Forcible’s performance, in chapter 4, they begin quoting Shakespeare. The specific quotes that they use are interesting to me when looked at under this lens of the importance of names, especially Miss Forcible’s.

"What's in a name?" asked Miss Forcible. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"I know not how to tell thee who I am," said Miss Spink to Miss Forcible.

Now, of course, this is just them quoting Shakespeare. But. Why these quotes specifically? They’re at the very least notable when discussing Coraline’s recurring theme of names. Especially the quote about the rose. It makes me think of what the cat said earlier, about how cats are sure of who they are so they don’t need names, about how Coraline didn’t need the cat’s name to be able to recognize it for who/what it was.

But, of course, this does not apply for humans. We need our names to be able to know ourselves, to be able to tell others who they are.

In chapter 6, Coraline wakes up and is disoriented. This disorientation is compared to the feeling one might experience upon being suddenly pulled out of a daydream. In this comparison, forgetting one’s name is equated with forgetting who one is and where one is.

Sometimes Coraline would forget who she was while she was daydreaming that she was exploring the Arctic, or the Amazon rainforest, or darkest Africa, and it was not until someone tapped her on the shoulder or said her name that Coraline would come back from a million miles away with a start, and all in the fraction of a second have to remember who she was, and what her name was, and that she was even there at all. Now there was the sun on her face, and she was Coraline Jones. Yes.

The ghost children have also forgotten their names, and with it most of who they were. In chapter 7, when Coraline is locked behind the mirror in the Other World, one of the ghost children says that names are the first things that one forgets after death.

"Who are you?" whispered Coraline. "Names, names, names," said another voice, all faraway and lost. "The names are the first thing to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names. I still keep pictures in my mind of my governess on some May morning, carrying my hoop and stick, and the morning sun behind her, and all the tulips bobbing in the breeze. But I have forgotten the name of my governess, and of the tulips too." "I don't think tulips have names," said Coraline. "They're just tulips." "Perhaps," said the voice sadly. "But I have always thought that these tulips must have had names. They were red, and orange-and-red, and red-and-orange-and-yellow, like the embers in the nursery fire of a winter's evening. I remember them."

The ghost children may have their memories, but they have largely forgotten who they were. They may remember their tulips, and certain strong memories, but there is very, very little left of them, and they have forgotten who they once were, they have forgotten their names.

"That is why we could not leave here, when we died. She kept us, and she fed on us, until now we're nothing left of ourselves, only snakeskins and spider-husks. Find our secret hearts, young mistress."

"She will take your life and all you are and all you care'st for, and she will leave you with nothing but mist and fog. She'll take your joy. And one day you'll awake and your heart and soul will have gone. A husk you'll be, a wisp you'll be, and a thing no more than a dream on waking, or a memory of something forgotten."

The Other Mother stole their hearts and their souls and their selves. She stole who they were away from them, their identities and names and the names of those they loved, leaving nothing in her wake.

The same ghost that talked about the tulips and the names of the tulips struggles to answer when Coraline asks their gender, as well, and when they do eventually give an answer they seem somewhat unsure of it, as shown by the word choice of “perhaps” and “I believe”

"A boy, perhaps, then," continued the one whose hand she was holding. "I believe I was once a boy." And it glowed a little more brightly in the darkness of the room behind the mirror.

(I personally take this quote, specifically it "glow[ing] a little more brightly" after coming to this conclusion, to mean either that the ghost is happy at realizing that he was once a boy, or even to mean that he has become somewhat more tangible upon this realization; upon remembering something about his self, and his identity.)

As an aside, it's noteworthy to me that we never learn the Other Mother’s true name. She is simply “The Other Mother” and “The Beldam.” Never is an actual name applied to her, only titles. We do not truly know who, or what, she is. Beings without names are shrouded in mystery (or should i say mist-ery). The ghost children are benevolent mysterious beings, the cat is an ambivalent-leaning-helpful mysterious being, and the other mother is a distinctly malevolent mysterious being.

"Who are you?" asked Coraline. "I'm your other mother," said the woman.

"She?" "The one who says she's your other mother," said the cat. "What is she?" asked Coraline. The cat did not answer, just padded through the pale mist beside Coraline.

But in conclusion, names in Coraline are extremely important. I’m sure there’s probably more that I'm missing, and feel free to add onto this, but basically—

People need names to know and remember who they are, and forgetting one’s name is the first step to losing the rest of who one is. Names humanize a person; with a name, they are less shrouded in mystery, more clear.

Knowing somebody's name helps one connect to and better understand that person; it is the first step in getting to know them and see them as a full person, the transition from “the crazy man upstairs” to “Mr Bobo”. Names, to people at least, are one of the fundamental building blocks of who we are.

[railroad-migraine]

In honour of Legend of Vox Machina coming out, can we have a Percy x (fem/gender neutral) reader with the prompt "You feel like home to me." Maybe reader also lost their home (or they were from Whitestone too)

'Welcome Home'

-> Percy x GN!Reader

Notes: Angst and fluff, hurt comfort. I started writing this piece in January 2022. As of June 2023, I have now watched TLOVM. Sorry it took a while Anon, but I wanted to save your lovely request for when I eventually got into Vox Machina 💙 Can be read as platonic or romantic

~ Poet

*****

It wasn't meant to be like this.

Things had not gone to plan. What was the plan, you say? That is debatable depending on who you'd ask.

To start, Vax was unfortunately spotted skulking around the enemy's camp. That then lead to small confrontation, one that he'd be fine to handle all by himself, one where he was suspiciously poked and prodded at innocently, but Keyleth instinctually stepped in to save him - thus getting the whole party involved and quickly overwhelmed. It was manageable until the exact moment where Grog lopped off the head of one of the bandits.

To put it simply, all hell broke loose and it all went to shit.

However, in the end, when the bandits lay dead and smloldering by the campfire, it was a victory for Vox Machina.

A victory, maybe. But not quite a win.

Wounds were in need of tending to, and Pike was far too exhausted to treat everyone. Camping in the woods did not seem to be the best option, the trees offering little cover, and neither did the cliff face nearby. Frustrated, tired, hungry - voices raising at each other prickled the hairs at the back of your neck and you knew you had to step up. To be the adult.

"There is a village," you start, but no one chooses to listen, your voice just another one in the argument.

"There is a village," you repeat, a little more firm and insistant, and the others begin to withdraw, eyes falling onto you, "not far from here. I- I didn't mention it before because it doesn't belong on the map. Not anymore, at least.

"We can go there, set up camp, sit down and just shut up for a few hours," you sigh.

Most of the party look hesitant but Scanlan raises a brow and shrugs with an easy nonchalance that you envy. "If you say it's safe, I'm down."

It wasn't meant to be like this.

"It is." You hope. "I promise.

Percy watches you carefully, the fading light of the Sun behind him casting shadows on his face, sharpens his already sharp jawline even further until it cuts into his coat's collar. Something dangerous in his expression. "Lead on, then," but he doesn't sound convinced.

And so you lead your friends to the home and earth that once nurtured your childhood, the very same that you abandoned all those years ago in favour of adventure.

You were still young. Like a child, scarrless, soft, green and new to the greater world that waited for you beyond your doorstep.

It wasn't meant to be like this, you think as you fall to your knees, taking in the grim sight before you. It's hard to tell what exactly happened, whether the homes had been raided and intentionally burned down, or if it had been a simple accident and the townspeople luckily fled somewhere safe.

How long had it been since you left home? What seemed like yesterday were many, many months for your people, and anything can happen in that time apart.

But you never expected to be returning home to a graveyard.

It wasn't meant to be like this.

"I'm sorry."

You sniffle and quickly wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt, choking back a bitter laugh. "Percy." He pulls his mouth into a straight line, a grimace of sorts. "You can be a thorn in my side at times, but why should you be sorry?"

He shifts his weight on his feet. "Because... because it's what people might have said to me when I was in a similar state. I'm not sure if it would ever have made me feel better, but I suppose it shows some level of... respect. Condolences. Comfort, sometimes. Or so I've heard."

He pulls his coat tighter around his torso, the bite in the air unforgiving even as you mourn for your childhood home while your knees press into dirt. You risk a glance up at his face, and his forlorn expression shatters your already broken heart. He feigns a weak smile, and ducks his chin in sympathy. "It's not for everyone, I suppose."

It's a cold comfort as your grip on the ashes of your home loosens, and slips through your fingers, like sand lost in the wind.

Percy says your name, clear and grounding, and you manage to tear your gaze from what's left of your history. "Look at me." You crane your neck to look to where he looms over your hunched form. "Home is a feeling... I know that more than anybody."

Slowly, so slowly and gentle as if caught in slow motion, he crouches down to meet your height. He appraises you for a hesitant moment, then reaches out to wipe a tear that trails down your cheek, one that you had accidentally neglected. It smears across your skin smoothly, leaving a clean line in the thin layer of dust you had acquired since the battle and trek over here.

He looks at you softly, and you nearly sob from the incredible amount of emotions you feel all at once. You grip his hand like a lifeline and press it into your face so that you can lean into the comfort he's providing, and a shudder washes over you at the warmth radiating from his glove.

Percy nudges your chin up with his free hand, and you have no choice but to meet his watery eyes.

"And you feel like home to me."

In that moment, you know you feel the same for him.

*****

[posts this and RUNS]

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 3

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, October 7; 6:00 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

Once again, that damn alarm clock that sounds like a firehouse siren. It never stops. I wonder how I missed it yesterday! I must have been really tired not to hear it. I press my pillow against my ears, which can't take this shrill, repetitive noise anymore. I only release the pressure once it stops. I need to make the effort to get up today if I want to avoid Bronze' wrath a second time. She exhausted me so much yesterday that I slept straight through the imposed curfew. It's been a long time since I had a full night's sleep. I grimace, letting out a groan as I sit up. Damn it!

"Sore muscles?" Alexia mocks, already up.

"More than a little, damn it."

"You'll get used to it, don't worry!"

"I've been hearing that since I got here."

"Because it's true. Hurry up if you don't want even more sore muscles. We only have fifteen minutes to get ready before inspection," she tells me.

"Fifteen minutes?!" I repeat. "Are you kidding me?"

"If only," she laughs.

I think I've never gotten up so fast, realizing my lateness as I see Alexia already freshly dressed and made up. I'm a dead girl if I'm not ready on time. Bronze threatened to make me endure worse than yesterday if that happened, and I'm not sure I can survive it. I rush to the bathroom with the right uniform. Turns out I got sent back from my first class for wearing the "sports uniform." Alexia had warned me, but exhaustion had taken over. As a result, I had to come back to my room to return to class in the proper attire. An awful outfit, by the way. It's composed of my combat boots, black pants, a khaki t-shirt, and my infamous military jacket. I put it all on before doing my makeup and fixing my hair. I now have two little minutes left to make my bed. I almost run to it to finish before her arrival. Alexia is already ready at the foot of her bed while I wrestle with my duvet. I panic, realizing the mess I'm in. I get all mixed up and can't remember the right steps.

"How do you manage to be so quick? Damn it! I can't make this damn bed again!"

I throw the duvet on the floor in a fit of anger. My bed looked like a mess anyway, so showing her my work or this pile is the same.

"Is there a problem, Batlle?"

I jump at the sound of her voice. That's it, I'm screwed. I turn around as slowly as possible to see her behind me. I feel intimidated by her stance, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. Alexia is holding back laughter behind her. I admit if it didn't concern me, I'd find this situation somewhat amusing. But since it does concern me, it's immediately less funny.

"Look at me when I talk to you!"

My eyes automatically return to her. Her sharp tone leaves no choice but to listen. She then turns to Alexia, who immediately stops giggling.

"No problem, Bronze," I reply, emphasizing her name. "Been fishing for information, Batlle?" "So it seems... Isn't Engen supposed to inspect the rooms in the morning?"

I cast my eyes on my informant, none other than Alexia. She doesn't dare move since Bronze looked at her. She's as straight as a rod with her hands clasped behind her back. It's like we're facing our section leader in the army... Almost the case.

"Stop looking at her, you're talking to me!" "Then answer me." "I'm personally in charge of this room while you adapt." "How lucky," I said sarcastically. "You said it," she smiles. "You can go, Putellas."

Alexia thanks her in a barely audible voice and flees the room, abandoning me with the tyrant. Thanks for the support! I fix my gaze on Bronze once the door closes at her request. As much as I want to stand up to her... It's a different story when she's in front of me. She seems cold and confident. It's no wonder everyone is afraid of her. However, I still plan to devise an attack plan against her. I just need to wait for the right moment and regain my strength.

"Well, now that your distraction is outside, will you answer me seriously?" "Why is she allowed to leave and not me?" "Don't dodge my question. You know perfectly well why you're staying here." "I don't want to miss breakfast again!"

"I gave you a pain au chocolat without being obliged, as far as I know. Now, tell me what your problem is. We'll see if you have time to get there."

She annoys me with her insistence on having things her way. She didn't earn her nickname for nothing! I'm no longer used to taking orders. I wait to see if she gives up without an answer, but she remains very patient. I comply, stepping aside to show her the disastrous state of my bed.

"I tried to remake it, but I can't do it anymore," I admitted. "You did it in front of me yesterday."

I relax when I realize she's not angry. She's just trying to understand what's going on. Maybe I'll avoid punishment if I stay honest.

"So, will you explain?"

"I just told you," I growled. "I'm not used to making my bed like this! You can't expect me to get it right overnight! Plus, I panicked because of your damn pressure!"

I realize what I just let slip when I see the little smile forming on her face. Damn it! I didn't want her to know something like that. She now knows she already has an influence over me.

"Alright, let's make a deal."

"I fear the worst," I mumbled.

"Hey, I'm doing this for you, just to be clear."

"Yeah, yeah..." I said unconvincingly.

"I'm willing to show you how to make your bed again so you know how to do it in the future, and you can have your breakfast. In return, we'll meet tonight after your classes."

"For what reason?"

"Do you really think you'll get away with nothing? I warned you that you'd be punished if you weren't ready on time today."

"I'm not gaining much in your proposal!" "You gain my help and your breakfast. That's a lot from me."

In the end, I won't escape this punishment... I weigh the pros and cons, even though the answer should be obvious since, in any case, she won't let me leave without making my bed and receiving my punishment.

"Alright, fine. I'll go with your proposal." "Good. I'll show you this time. Watch carefully and then do it yourself, okay?" "Okay..." "Come closer and observe carefully."

I move forward as she shakes out my duvet, letting it fall onto my bed. Like yesterday, she starts at the corners at the foot of the bed. She takes her time to show me each fold again, making sure I'm following. Once that's done, she smooths the duvet upwards before tucking it neatly under the pillow. She then tucks the excess sides under the mattress, which doesn’t seem to weigh much. I observe the flawless result. She must be well-trained to do it so quickly and perfectly.

"Got it?" "I think so..."

"No, you need to be sure. If you tell me you got it and tomorrow you’re not ready on time, I won’t want to hear any excuses when I punish you."

"You're such a pain," I mutter. "Excuse me?!" "Can I try again before giving you my answer?" "If you want."

I move to undo the bed, but her arm stops me.

"Don’t ever say something like that again. The fact that you even dare to address me informally is too much. Don’t push it too far, or you’ll regret it bitterly. Are we clear?"

"Yeah..." "Yes," she corrects me. "Repeat." "Yes," I growl. "Good," she says, lowering her arm. "Now try again."

I undo the bed in one go, then start from where she began. I try to replicate what she just showed me, starting with one corner, then the other. It's the hardest part. Once done, I smooth it upwards and tuck it under the pillow. I was about to tuck one side, but her voice stops me.

"Pull the duvet more, there are still wrinkles."

"Like this?" I ask, following her instructions.

"A bit more. Don’t hold back. The duvet is too caught at the foot of the bed to come out."

I follow her advice and pull harder. I let go of the duvet once it’s nicely stretched, without any wrinkles.

"Good, now tuck the sides under the mattress."

I do as instructed, starting with my side, then the other. I smile at the result, better than yesterday. I glance at my supervisor on the other side.

"It’s not so hard, is it?"

"No..."

"Do you feel confident you can do it, or do you need another try?"

"I think I'm good."

"Sure? I don’t want to hear any complaints if you’re late because of this tomorrow."

"Yes, I’m sure. I’ll face the consequences."

"Alright, you can go then. We’ll meet after your classes. What time do you finish?"

"Four o'clock, I think."

"Where’s your schedule?"

I point to my desk where it’s pinned to the wall. I don’t know my hours yet, so I keep it in plain sight. She approaches to look at it closely.

"Four o'clock, that's right. See you later." "See you later, Commander."

I give her my best sarcastic smile before leaving my room. I hate the idea of another punishment tonight. It’s not like my lateness was my fault. I just couldn’t make that damn bed! I dread what she has in store for me. I hope it’s not more laps around the field. Apparently, that’s her specialty according to Leah. Well, at least I get my breakfast. I arrive at the buffet, greeting the staff as I serve myself. I’m the last one, but I'm glad to find my precious hot chocolate and morning pastry. I turn towards the room once done. I smile, spotting my roommate and her friends at their table. I quickly join them.

"Oooh, here’s the survivor!" Alba mocks as I arrive.

"Hey," I say, sitting down.

"You've already made a splash since yesterday!" Pina informs me.

"Everyone’s talking about you!" Patri adds. "You’re building quite a reputation!"

"Really? Why?" I ask before taking a bite of my pastry.

"They say you have the guts to stand up to Bronze," Lotte says. "Is it true you address her informally?"

"Maybe," I answer vaguely. "I don’t see what’s so special about it." "We see it very clearly," Alexia mocks. "Did you get away with nothing this morning?" "I have to meet her after my classes." "That smells like punishment!" comments Alba. "It is. She told me." "And you’re not bothered?" "Why would I be? I plan to prepare something much worse for her." "You've got balls," Alexia comments.

I know they think I’m crazy, but I’m not changing my mind. I finish my meal, continuing to chat since we have time. Then we head slowly towards the classroom buildings, with little motivation on my part. I met my first teachers yesterday. They’re all old fogies who aren’t even fifty yet. I’m curious about today's teachers since I was bored to death yesterday. I was on the verge of falling asleep, but Alexia kept me awake by mentioning the words "expulsion" and "Bronze." It seems that behavior like that leads to expulsions, like being late. I wasn’t going to tempt fate after spending my morning with Bronze. Knowing her a bit better, I doubt she’d let something like that slide. She doesn’t seem like someone who appreciates such behavior. Instead, I tried to follow the lesson as best I could. It was difficult, not having been in a classroom for two years. Today, it’s the same. I take my place next to Alexia with a long sigh. I have a feeling today will be as long as yesterday given the new teacher in front of me.

Wednesday, October 7; 4:10 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I was wrong this morning. My day ended up going faster than expected. Maybe because I haven’t seen my supervisor since this morning. It put me in a good mood. At least, as much as I can be here. Adjusting is difficult. There's not much difference from a military camp. It’s likely there’s more

freedom there. I’m happy Alexia is here to brighten my days. She reminds me of my best friend from Barcelona. She’s just as energetic. I'm lucky to have her in my class, even if she’s too serious for my taste. I managed to make her laugh several times today. We got remarks, but nothing alarming enough to stop us. I'm still relieved it’s over. I’m supposed to meet Bronze, but I didn’t get any instructions on where to meet. So I followed Alexia to our room where she wants to finish her homework before joining her friends in the common room. I plan to do the same if Bronze doesn’t show up. She’ll have to find me if she wants to see me. I’m not chasing after her! I have a tiny hope she’s forgotten, but I doubt it. In the meantime, I chat with Ale about our day on the way back. She tells me a story about Patri and Claudia during their chemistry class last year. Apparently, they did an experiment that almost set the school on fire, leading to a summons and a big punishment. I can’t stop laughing with Alexia, who has a knack for making stories funny. She did the same at lunch, and it’s rare for me to laugh so sincerely over so little. My laughter stops abruptly when we open our room door. Damn... My last hopes evaporate seeing Bronze waiting for me, holding my sports uniform.

"It’s about time. Go change," she orders.

I find myself holding my uniform without even having entered my room. Her determination scares me for what’s next. Alexia passes by her, greeting her and making herself small. She confessed to me that she’s afraid of her for some reason and respects her greatly. I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll react the same way.

"Please... Not laps again, please! I did everything you asked! It’s not my fault I couldn’t do it." "Already begging, Ona? I thought you were braver than that."

I narrow my eyes at her jab. Not only is she provoking me, but she’s also implying I’m already giving in. I’d make her eat her smug smile if I could! So she’d understand it’s not the case.

"No, I just have a lot of sore muscles because of you," I retort.

-  That mean that your body needed it. Now go change.

-  Damn it, you’re annoying, I grumbled. Promise me you won’t make me do any sports first.

-  Change your tone with me. I haven’t planned any sports, but I might add some to my list if you keep being cheeky. Maybe you’ll understand what it’s like when I really annoy you.

-  Fine, I was just joking, I rolled my eyes.

-  Do I need to drag you by force to make you listen? she threatened me. I sighed as I walked into the bathroom. I envied Alexia, who was sitting on her bed doing her homework. Her encouraging smile was the last thing I saw before closing the door without locking it, as per Bronze’s orders. I tried to hurry, but the muscle soreness made things difficult, especially with my pants. I was curious to find out what I was going to do if I wasn’t running. When I opened the door again, Bronze was waiting with her arms crossed and her foot tapping nervously on the floor.

- Let’s go. Bronze went ahead while I said goodbye to Alexia, who wished me good luck. I followed her through the corridors, putting my hands in my pockets to annoy her a bit.

- So, Bronze, what’s the plan for today? I asked when I caught up with her.

-  Stop being cheeky, I won’t repeat myself. You weren’t so smart-mouthed yesterday, on the field.

-  Me? Cheeky? I laughed. Nonsense!

-  Start by taking your hands out of your pockets.

-  That’s nothing bad!

-  Batlle ! she snapped. When I tell you something, you obey. I took them out, afraid she would follow through on her previous threats. In other circumstances, I wouldn’t have done it, but now I wasn’t sure I could handle another sports session with my aching thighs. At least I had managed to annoy her as I wanted. We entered the gym, making me fear the worst... I hoped she kept her word and that I wouldn’t do any sports. I forced myself to keep up with her quick pace. It was my first time here. Wiegman hadn’t given me a tour, and I hadn’t had any sports yet. She walked down several corridors of the new building before opening one of the many doors in a hallway. She stepped aside to let me enter first. I walked in cautiously, too disturbed by the room. It was a locker room, so what? My supervisor pushed me in the back to make me go faster. It was a new room with benches and hooks lining the right wall. I stopped in the middle, where there was an open frame facing the benches. Damn... I understood our presence here when I saw the state of the communal showers. They were corroded by lime due to extensive use. Bronze had placed cleaning supplies on the floor. I had no more doubts about my punishment tonight.

-  Is this a joke? I blurted out.

-  No sports. Isn’t that what you wanted?

-  Maybe, but not this! I’m not a fucking maid !

-  Too bad, you’ll have to improvise then.

-  Stop messing with me! Is there really nothing else?

-  No, there isn’t. You’re not in a position to negotiate with me, so accept your punishment.

-  Because I will be someday?

-  Start by accepting your punishments and changing your behavior, then we’ll talk about it. She had a cold-bloodedness that impressed me. I gave up, realizing that I was indeed not the one in control of the situation right now.

-  Okay, I resigned. Will you leave me alone?

-  No. I’ll be supervising you to ensure you do your work, but first, we’ll have a talk.

-  About what? I asked, intrigued.

-  Yesterday, you told me you didn’t know the rules, so I’ll explain the most important ones to make it clear. That way, you’ll be warned and won’t have any excuses.

-  Oh, yeah. At least I’ll know why I’m being punished.

- Good, take a seat.

I sat on the bench she pointed to and noticed a whiteboard with bullet points on it that I hadn’t seen before. The writing, which I guessed was hers, was very neat. I was ready to pay attention to the rules. I planned to follow them while scheming my revenge and getting out of this place. The fewer rules I broke, the less she’d be on my back. It would take some effort to comply, based on what I could already see on the board.

-  First, wake-up is at six o’clock, she began, pointing to the first bullet point. You should know that by now.

-  Hard to miss the alarm anyway.

-  Inspection is fifteen minutes later, she continued, ignoring my remark. You must be ready by then, in uniform, and with your bed made perfectly.

-  Is it a disaster if I’m not wearing makeup when you come?

-  No. You’ll have access to your room after your meal. The purpose of the inspection is to see if you’re in uniform and if your room is tidy.

-  Okay, I sighed.

-  A problem?

-  No... I was just wondering why wake-up is so early.

-  Simply to prevent you from being too tired in class.

-  No, actually! I countered. By getting up so early, we’re definitely more tired. She shook her head. It was the first time I appreciated her smile and our conversation. It wasn’t an order or a dispute for once. I almost forgot her cold and unbearable personality.

-  You don’t understand anything.

-  No, indeed, I frowned.

-  Let’s move on to the third rule before the explanations, shall we? I nodded, curious to hear her arguments. For me, six o’clock was not a time to get up. It was way too early, especially after the year I just lived. I had my own schedule.

-  So, curfew is at ten o’clock, but Alexia must have already told you that.

-  Yeah.

-  An instructor can enter the room at any time from that hour to check that you’re asleep.

-  And what if we can’t sleep that early? That was my case the first night.

-  Is that why you didn’t get up the first day?

-  Yeah, I fell asleep around one in the morning.

-  I see. You’ll soon get into the rhythm, don’t worry. What were your usual sleep hours before coming here?

-  Well... I thought. I’d say four o’clock until noon most of the time. She raised an eyebrow at my honesty. She probably didn’t expect that. Understandable. She must have thought I was in school, but that wasn’t the case. I did nothing with my days, so I had my own schedule.

-  You didn’t have classes?

-  No. I stopped studying after high school.

-  How come you’re in the final year then?

-  No idea, I shrugged. I’m where they told me to go.

-  Hmm, she replied skeptically. Let’s get back to the main subject. Wiegman kept her word about the file. She didn’t seem to know the reasons for my presence, given how intrigued she was. However, she didn’t ask any questions. I wouldn’t have answered anyway. This school isn’t going to change me. If my mother thinks so, she’s an idiot.

-  As for my explanation, the curfew ensures eight hours of sleep until six o’clock and prevents you from staying up at impossible hours at night.

-  What difference does it make? We could just wake up later in the morning, and it would be the same.

-  No, it’s not the same. By taking away an hour at night, we restrict your use of electronic devices. You’re more likely to use them at night than in the morning. Besides, you have more time to eat and be together instead of communicating with the outside world.

-  Everything we do at night, we can do in the morning too, I retorted.

-  I assure you, you can’t. Even if that’s the case, it allows you to be fully awake for your classes. You have no excuse for being tired. Explained this way, the schedule seemed great, but I remained skeptical. It’s true that I was more awake in class this morning compared to my high school memories. The problem is, it’s useless if I have teachers who put me to sleep right after. I kept this response to myself, not wanting to get scolded for saying such a thing.

-  Still, six o’clock is way too early.

-  You’ll get used to it. You’ll see, in a week, your previous schedule will be a thing of the past, and you’ll be back on track. Can I continue now?

-  Hmm.

-  Okay, then, no electronic devices outside the rooms, whether it’s a phone, Mac, or any other device, she listed. You should already know this since I haven’t had to reprimand you in two days. Am I wrong?

- I know, yes. Why is it forbidden?

She raised an eyebrow at my question. My participation must have surprised her, or maybe it was just my questions. We were only at the fourth point, and I hadn’t remained silent on any of them. I’m naturally curious. I like to know the why and how.

- Each student is here for specific reasons... Excessive drug use, family problems, or simply

behavioral issues, for example. -

I felt concerned about all the points she just mentioned. It was impressive. Had she already figured me out? It’s very likely, but I don’t see how.

-  The problems are the same for all students?

-  Mostly what I just mentioned. Why?

-  No reason... So, why no devices?

-  The purpose of being here is to solve your problems while continuing your studies. Can you understand that?

-  Hmm.

-  With this rule, we simply forbid all means of communication during the day. The goal is for you to focus on yourself and only yourself, without external pressure. This rule was more understandable than the previous one. I could have responded that I didn’t want help, but I refrained. We would enter a debate that I would surely lose. I simply nodded.

-  If I see you with something like that, I won’t hesitate to confiscate it for an indefinite period. Agreed?

-  Yeah... So, we’re allowed to use them in the room?

-  Yes, of course. This will be a rule to follow. I’m not risking losing my phone. It would mean cutting off communication with Joan and my best friend. "Next rule," she continues. "Show respect to educators," she reads from the board. "By educators, I mean the teachers, instructors, and the rest of the staff. Just because I'm in charge of you doesn’t mean you should disrespect my colleagues." I nod, not knowing what else to say. I'm not going to ask for the reasons behind this rule. "And no lateness will be tolerated. Be on time in the morning, when I give you an appointment, or even in class. Teachers have been instructed not to let you in if you're late. You’ll be sent straight to me."

"And I imagine I’ll have a hard time?"

"You'll find out soon enough if it happens. Also, I want you to behave in class. Don’t be cheeky, don’t fall asleep, and avoid excessive chatting. Try to show interest and participate."

"That’s going to be hard..."

"I'm serious, Ona. I'll be aware of your behavior in class and I’ll step in if it gets out of hand. I'm going to make sure you get through this year."

"Good luck with that."

"At least avoid getting expelled. You’d seriously piss me off if that happens and that won't be good for you."

"OK." She looks at the board one last time, making sure she's covered all the points.

"Well, I’ve said what I needed to say. Outside of class, you have free rein. The only exception is when I ask you to be with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, I guess. Wake-up, check-in, curfew, no lateness or disrespect," I summarize. "Perfect. Now, I believe you have a task waiting for you."

She points her thumb at the communal showers. I sigh heavily, having forgotten about that detail amidst everything else.

"Does every sanction mean a punishment?" I ask.

"Exactly. This morning you were late and you talked back to me," she states. "You can try anything behind my back, nothing will escape me."

Leah has taught me a lot about her, including this detail, which doesn’t surprise me. I pick up the sponge lying on the floor with tongs. In the end, I'd rather have yesterday’s punishment. This one is pure humiliation. Especially since Bronze sits on the bench, right in front of the showers to have a perfect view.

"She’s not going to eat you," she comments. "Come on, start, I don’t plan on staying here all night." "You really have no pity." "I’m not here to have pity, Ona."

She takes a book from the bench, which she had probably prepared, and starts reading. I pick up the gloves from the floor since I’m not even allowed to use a mop for cleaning. I put them on and dip the sponge in the soapy water. I start with the stalls, where the lime scale is clearly visible on the matte black glass. I try as best as I can to scrub the top of the first stall with my small stature. I have to jump to reach it. I grumble mentally to avoid giving my supervisor the satisfaction of hearing me complain aloud. I manage to finish two stalls in half an hour. It’s far from perfect, but I want to finish the other eight and the floor as quickly as possible. I’m already exhausted. I take a break to relieve my thighs, which are already aching. Not to mention my arms, given the intensity I’m putting into it. I glance at Bronze, who remains absorbed in her book.

"Stop daydreaming, Ona."

How does she manage to see me without looking up? I sigh and get back to work. If someone had told me one day I’d be on all fours scrubbing the floor of a communal shower, I’d have laughed in their face. I hate Bronze for making me go through this.

"You know, if you followed the rules, I wouldn’t punish you." "Sorry, but rules and I aren’t very good friends," I grumble. "Then you only have yourself to blame for your punishments." "And you too since you’re the one inflicting them on me."

"I’m just doing my job," she replies, closing her book. "Let me tell you something. The less effort you make to follow the rules, the more I’ll be on your back. We can continue like this until the end of the year if necessary."

"What?!"

I straighten up on my knees at this news. I wipe my forehead with my arm, which is dripping with sweat from scrubbing so hard.

"What do you mean, until the end of the year? I was told this was only temporary until I adapted!"

"Not exactly. I’ll be your supervisor until your behavior changes. Given the hothead you are, we’re far from that."

"What a joke!" I spit bitterly, getting back to work. "You’re right, I’m not going to change. I don’t even plan on staying here."

"And where do you plan on going?" she asks, curious.

"Far from this crappy school, far from this town, and especially far from people who won’t leave me alone!"

"That’s going to be complicated. You’re not going anywhere with me." "We’ll see about that. I’m not following your rules, Bronze. I’m not like all those other students."

"You’re not going anywhere. I’ll make sure to help you whether you want it or not. After this experience, I guarantee you won’t be that little daddy’s princess who can do whatever she wants anymore."

"Damn it, you don’t even know me!" I yell, throwing my sponge at her face. "I don’t want your damn help, so leave me alone! It’s precisely people like you I want to get away from!"

I can’t control my anger after she touched the one point she shouldn’t have. Her eyes remain closed from the impact of the sponge. I’ll probably pay for this, but I don’t care. It was the last straw, the one thing not to say. If she wanted to affect me, she succeeded! She slowly opens her eyes.

"Pick it up." "I’m not your dog, damn it!"

I throw the gloves next to the bucket and leave the room to avoid confrontation. She can go to hell with her damn rules! She chases me down the hall, calling my name, but I keep going. I surprisingly find the exit without getting lost. I barely have time to accelerate and touch the handle before I’m pinned against the door roughly. She blocks all my movements with her body and pins my wrists on either side of my head. I struggle with rage, but she perfectly channels my strength.

"Let go of me!" "No. Stop fighting back," she says calmly.

I keep moving as much as I can under her grip, which I hate. She has no right to touch me; I don’t want her to! Yet she tightens her hold to completely stop my movements. I press my forehead against the door, closing my eyes to calm down. I must not have a panic attack here. Once I’ve calmed down, she grabs my arm and drags me back to the locker room. She pushes me inside and locks the door.

"Get back to work. We’ll leave here when I decide," she says, resuming her place.

I don’t understand how she can stay so calm while I’m a volcano on the brink of eruption. If I wasn’t sure before, I now know I hate this girl.

Wednesday, October 7th; 8:05 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I slam the door of my room without holding back. I'm relieved to find it empty. We're two hours away from curfew. Alexia must be in the common room with the others. If it's like yesterday, I have about an hour before she returns. I'm feeling really down since my interaction with Bronze. I didn't even go to eat, even though she allowed me to. I just needed to be alone. She drained me physically and mentally. I'm dirty and wet from crawling on the floor. It took me four hours to clean everything. Bronze stopped me at some point. The result was far from perfect, but she seemed satisfied that I finished. Now, I plan to decompress under hot water and get to bed. I find a pj set consisting of a t-shirt and shorts, and then I lock myself in the bathroom. Once my shower is finished, I slip under the covers. I'm exhausted and on edge. I think it's the right time to call my best friend. I've left her without news since my arrival. It was hard to reach her because I was never alone since I got here. Not to mention there's a one-hour time difference with Barcelona. I really need to talk to her right now. I miss her more than I thought. I take my phone from the nightstand and dial her number.

"Hello?" "Hey, Mapi."

"Oh my God, it's about time!" she says on the other end. "I thought they took your phone or something," she quickly replies.

"Sorry for not calling sooner," I chuckle. "Are you okay? Your voice sounds strange."

I'm so emotional and exhausted that I can't hold back the tears running down my cheeks against my will. It had to come out when I was on the phone with the person who knows me best.

"Yes, yes...," I say, wiping my cheeks. "Let's just say my mom really outdid herself this time."

"That bad? You don't like Manchester ? It's supposed to be a beautiful city." "Believe me, there's nothing to envy. It's been raining all the time so far."

"Well, it's definitely not Barcelona ! Come on, tell Auntie Mapi everything. You don't sound well. Is your new school nice?"

"It's a military school, Maps. Well, it's a private school with instructor supervision."

« Ouch, your mom really went all out this time... How did she get you in there? Isn't it supposed to be restricted?"

"The principal is a friend of my mom's," I sigh. "It's hell!"

I pour out the start of my new life to relieve myself. Mapi is like a sister to me. She regularly comes to my house and knows my mom well, who is also her doctor. I know she appreciates her, unlike me, but she always listens attentively when I criticize her, like now. She will always be there for me, and I'll never be grateful enough for everything she does for me. She's pulled me out of the water more than once when I was drowning.

"I have a little soldier on my back. You can't imagine the horror!" "A little soldier?" she laughs. "What's that all about?"

"A supervisor or something until I adapt. I have the worst instructor in the camp, apparently. A real viper! In two days, she's already managed to punish me twice!"

"The great Batlle punished? I would've loved to see that!" she giggles. "Is she at least good- looking?"

Mapi's question doesn't surprise me. From the moment we met, she declared loudly that she was a lesbian. She loves women... I mean she LOVES woman. We met in our first year of high school. She joined my class in the middle of the year and sat next to me. We hit it off immediately, and she quickly started flirting with me. I brushed her off, but I quickly grew attached to her unique personality. Within two months, she had turned all my convictions upside down. She was touchy and insistent. She made me doubt my sexuality. I ended up giving her a chance. It took her two months to become my first and only girlfriend for two years. It was my longest relationship. Today, we're best friends with a very close bond. She's the only one I truly trust. She's my only confidante, and I'm sure she won't judge me. That's why I'm not afraid to tell her what I think at this moment, even though I hate to admit it out loud.

"Brown hair, green eyes, taller than me. She's young and quite charming. I’d say she's twenty-five. She's pretty sexy in her uniform, but her personality ruins everything."

"Wow... She's totally your type!" she teases. "Did you hear the rest? She's a real tyrant! She's making my life impossible, damn it." "Have you thought about a counter-attack?" "Of course, she's going to regret it!" I say, making her laugh.

As I expected, our conversation turns to revenge ideas. Mapi has a wild imagination for this kind of thing. When we've covered everything, we switch to the latest gossip I've missed in Spain. Our call

ends a quarter of an hour later since it's late for her, and she has class tomorrow. I was lucky to reach her so late. Our conversation did me good. She managed to take my mind off things, as I hoped. I put my phone away and decide not to wait for curfew to fall asleep. I turn off all the lights and settle comfortably in my bed so that the door is behind me, to avoid being disturbed by Ale's arrival later. It doesn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep.

[yuseirra]

yeah I've been listening to these two songs (Ruler Of My Heart/Sweet Dream) on repeat since yesterday

The lyrics GO HARD...

[ingravinoveritas]

So came I came across this repost from Al that a fan posted yesterday to which she reposted and to have her say and ad I much I can see she trying to defend ms with the radio getting his name wrong it a common thing for poor ms and I don't think this personally was the guys fault and I think they was reading from a script which I think most radio presenters have I think.

But the thing I noticed also was yes she was trying to defend her parter but also seems complaining that she and the children have to endure listening to the station in the car all the time and that like a another red flag like they literally have nothing in common and I'm still wondering why they still together. Cos I've noticed since michael been London he seems alot happier and heathly cos he closer to his best friend and beaming also. Can we have him stay permanently in London and not go bk to Wales in May.

What ur thoughts on this repost for Al I would to hear

(Grouping these together for ease of answering.)

I had this sent to me a little while ago and I'm...well, it takes a lot to floor me these days, especially in this fandom, but...I think this did it. Because there is so much going on here, and almost none of it is good.

On the surface, I know this very much looks like AL defending Michael, but I do not think that's what this was about at all. I think she saw BBC Radio 6 tagged in the original tweet and saw an opportunity to gain attention due to the proximity of a high-profile account. The way she did it, however, was by making something related to Michael about her. Again. And again, the wording of this retweet takes it from AL defending him to something else entirely.

Saying that she has to "endure" Michael listening to this radio show in the car is just a terrible look, as if listening to something he enjoys is so unbearably awful, and that she only puts up with because she's stuck in a car with him. It feels like she's literally complaining about Michael under the pretense of defending him, and I don't know how she (or anyone else) thinks this is okay.

The thing is, the whole "Martin Sheen" thing has become a running joke precisely because Michael has been dealing with this not just for his whole career, but his entire life. It's something he has frequently talked about, and I can imagine that it has been challenging on so many levels, but Michael also knows that Martin Sheen has been in the business for 60 years, and more than that, he is also a fan of Martin's. He's even talked about being introduced to him at a party years ago (I can't remember by whom, but Michael described the person as saying "Mr. President, meet Mr. Prime Minister"--referring to Martin and Michael's roles in The West Wing and The Queen, respectively).

So yes, the overarching point is that Michael doesn't blame Martin Sheen for these repeated mix-ups, and actually respects him as an actor and person. And when he has felt annoyed about this happening (as he did in 2020 when an ITV announcer called him the wrong name prior to a new episode of Quiz), Michael has had no problem calling it out himself on his own social media. Which speaks to your point @thetardisisblueandroseistoo about her trying to speak on Michael's behalf, and again doing a miserable job of it.

Also, what Michael hasn't done--and I suspect would be horrified at Anna doing--is go after the hosts of a show that he just appeared on yesterday. Particularly a show with hosts he is a tremendous fan of, as he spent a good portion of his appearance gushing about them and how much he enjoys listening to the show. I think he would more than understand the one host making this mistake--given his age and how much more embedded Martin Sheen is in pop culture--and would certainly exercise a lot more graciousness than to write a nasty tweet like the one AL did above.

That's the best way I can describe it: Shades of what we saw in the Insta story from last week, with that same self-aggrandizing, passive-aggressive (and now also kind of bitter) tone. There are a hundred other ways she could have responded to this, yet what she chose was to get in a dig at Michael, plus QT a fan tweet so that it could be misconstrued as her yelling at the fan. And again, in the cases where Michael has called out announcers or others for getting his name wrong, it's because he felt he deserved to have his name said correctly. In this case, however, it seems that AL wants the presenter to get Michael's name right because not doing so is an inconvenience to her.

Those were my impressions of AL's tweet, at any rate. All I can say is that from my perspective, if this was her attempting to defend Michael, it could not have been more backhanded. Glad to hear from my followers as well about your thoughts on this. Thanks for writing in! x

[rainthespiritual]

pt 1 , pt 2

Pre-death Tate Langdon fic PART TWO

btw some trigger warnings for the series as a whole are deffinetly: drug abuse, depression, suicide, and topics similar to that even if they don't show up in this specific part THEY WILL EVENTUALLY so I just want yall to be warned ty

TRIGGER WARNING : Tate langdon is a tw tbh and American horror story in general, smoking, talk of abusive dad and family slightly(it'll be talked abt more in other parts), angst, this part is more tame that the other parts will be, and alot of talk on bullying and angsty teen bullshit yk the drill

summery: Tate invited you to his house and talked to you about wanting to be friends again!

sorry if this is bad I didn't get to edit it cuz im using my phone PLZ ENJOY LETS GET INTO IT YUH

"Meet me here again tommorow, same time."

His words have been repeating in your head since yesterday. I mean yeah almost being caught by a teacher scared you shitless... and you didn't want it to happen again but it seemed almost worth it. the way he makes you feel is worth it. I mean this is the most validated you've felt in months.

You are pulled back to reality, to the smell of musty books and to the sound of the library, "___ you aren't listening again." sighing at your so called friend. you almost snap at her but she continues before you can knowing she now has your attention again. the sound of a distant clock ticking puts you more at ease as you try not to get too deppressed. The library is usually a nice safe space for you but sometimes you are followed, but you just have to deal with it. she goes on for a while before saying something that actually causes you to look up at her,

"Do you see that guy staring at me." she waves her head and your eyes meet Tates. he's sitting down at a distant table with a book in his hands but it's clear he isn't reading it. He smiles when you notice him and its also clear he isn't looking at your friend. He's staring at you.

"Yeah I do Heather.." you break eye contact with him hoping the hotness you feel in your cheeks isn't them turning red. Tate also stops looking in your direction and his attention goes to the book.

"I mean he's cute but he's all quiet and weird, ya know? ..kinda like you." she smiles as you sigh. you aren't quiet she just won't let you get a word in. You look back to the table where Tate was at but he is gone, you look around wondering if he was still in the library but there is no sign of him. not even the book he was reading, he must have taken it. it is common for kids at your school to take books to the tables and leave them if they weren't interested or more likely if they were just trying to seem busy. Tho it being frowned upon it happens quite alot.

"I've gotta go." You gather your things and start to stand.

"..where do you have to go?" Heather your friend scoffs slightly thinking you have nothing better to do.

"I've gotta go to the bathroom actually so.. And class is starting soon, see ya." with that you leave almost as fast as you did yesterday, mostly to avoid more questioning and bitching.

It almost being time to meet Tate you make your way to the bathroom you both were at yesterday. its pretty early but it's nice to have some thinking time. you stare at the door listening making sure no one is coming your way. you'd get questioned deffinetly, especially class starting so soon.. you fidget waiting for the bell to ring but it feels like time is going by way slower than it is. After thinking for a while and the bell not ringing still you decide to go in early, I mean maybe no one's in there? like Tate said almost no one ever comes this way. or maybe Tates there early too? maybe that's why he left the library so soon..

"Tate..?" you walk in slowly praying no one other than Tate is in this bathroom. You cautiously have your eyes closed just incase.

"___?.. You're early, hey." you open your eyes to find a nervous looking Tate.

"Hey yeah I am... is- is that okay, or?" you take a deep breath, the bathroom smells like harsh chemicals and it slightly irritates your nose. "Yeah no its fine, just surprised me is all." what he says makes you feel better and you look up to see him smiling at you, his eyes are red and watery and hes repeatedly wiping his nose.

"is there anything wrong?" you ask genuinely concerned. You seem to notice a wave of sadness on his face, or maybe it was just the smell of this bathroom you felt it irritating your eyes so maybe the same was happening to him? or maybe he was sad, he did tend to look sad. remembering all the small times you looked at him in the halls or at him if he was in the same room as you, he was sad. or atleast not smiling.

"Nothing at all, now that you're here." he walks closer to you, looking down at you.

"me? what do you mean?" you knew exactly what he meant, it just felt so surreal that this tall blonde good smelling guy that just so happened to go to school with you they you also used to be friends with could say this. I mean who would have known. all the boys you were used to interacting with never payed that kind of attention to you.

"I just mean I'm glad you're here. what else would I mean?" you smile again enjoying him saying these things. the validation you felt made you feel great, and he knew exactly what to do to make you feel special. not to say he was lying or anything, he wasn't. His confidence radiated off of him and he knew just what to say.

"well you could mean alot of things." he smirks at your response before pausing.

"Here, sit with me again." He climbs up on the sinks, making sure they aren't wet with his sleeve first. you notice a brownish red stain on his sleeve and decide whether ot not to bring it up. you choose to ignore it climbing up next to him. you take a deep breath noticing how your nose is now used to the harsh chemical smell that is all around the both of you.

"I'm surprised you came," he states looking into your eyes, a weird wave of guilt builds up in your stomach remembering how well you two got along. you truly regret not talking to him and hope you can make up for all the time you two have lost together.

" you know... I think about you all the time." he pushes a section of your hair behind your ear, admiring your face again.

you smile wider at him focusing on his pretty brown eyes. They are so dark and mysterious its not even funny. you also take notice of how dark his undereyes are, he must be tired.

"Is that why you were looking at me earlier? " you nervously smirk watching as he gets up off the counter to stand infront of you.

"we should go to my house." he places his arms on the counter making it so he is looking down on you slightly.

"your house?" you gulp.

"yep, my house," he nods, "we'd have fun I swear. I mean no one's even home." this catches you off guard. I mean a boy inviting you to his house was the last thing you expected to happen. Especially at school, a boy is not only inviting you to his house hes inviting you to ditch school with him at his house.. while no one's home.

"Sure, fuck it!" He leaves first making sure no one is around, you sneak out thanking God no one is around. and somehow you guys make it out without being caught. He leads you and you start to get nervous.

"is- is your house close or?" you gulp feeling a tad bit guilty. You've never missed school on purpose before.

"Actually I was thinking of going somewhere first.." he smirks and puts his hand around your shoulders.

"oh.. where?" the ideas of where he could bring you excited you slightly. The air was clear and the sun was hiding behind some clouds. its a gloomy day yet you were glad you were getting to spend it with Tate, something about him hypnotized you and made you feel ways you never felt before.

"The beach, trust me it's cool. especially on days like this.." he smirks more putting your hand in his, his warm soft touch made you blush. You never felt this way about anyone, he made you feel special.

You both walk in silence just enjoying eachothers company until you make it to the beach. You both sat in the sand admiring the ocean and the gloomy sky.

"do you play hookey alot?" you ask smiling already knowing he often does, you just didn't know what else to say.

"just when I get bored, or sad I guess.. I like to come here, y'know when everything gets too much? I come here.." he sighs looking off into the sea, his eyes are shining with the water and you can't help but to admire his beauty.

"No, I totally get that. I get sad alot too, thats why I go to the library. Usually no one follows me." he frowns looking away in the distance making you unable to look in his eyes anymore.

"y'know.. I don't get why you hang out with those assholes, it's clear they give zero shits about you. all they care about is themselves, even I can tell you that." you frown along with him, you want to tell him off but you can't bring yourself to because in the end... he's right. they don't and never cared about you. they never listen to you about your problems or your feelings. It's always about them them them.

"I know.. that's exactly how it is.. but I have no one else, I'm too scared to be alone." you open up a bit to him about how you feel hoping he will actually listen.

"you wouldn't be alone ___, I'd hang out with you. I mean trust me I'm cooler than all those bitches combined!" he laughs knowing he made you smile.

"then I guess I won't be hanging around them anymore. I got you now." you both smile walking the rest of the way to his house, talking about your past and goofing off.