#was that I unknowingly booked a hotel at one end of the High Line

[pantalaiimon]

A (very long!) personal review of Norma Jeane Baker of Troy

I was lucky enough to see the play twice during its final week, and I absolutely loved it.

This review is going to be very long and nowhere near as polished and articulate as I would wish, so here is a short review I found in the comment section of the New York Times’s own review, and agreed with : “[This] review of Norma Jeane Baker of Troy makes it seem overwhelmingly difficult to sort out the many characters who are indirectly present on stage, from Euripides to Arthur Miller to Persephone, Stevie Smith and Menelaus. However, witnessing the increasingly feverish transformation of the initially very composed narrator--down to every comma, colon and period of his dictation--into his own subject is a thrilling, breathless journey. While revealing all the artifice that goes into the creation of his mythic character - from the false hips to the wig--the play still sweeps us away with the authentic force of inevitability that makes for a Greek--or a tabloid--tragedy. The complexity and multi-layered-ness of Anne Carson’s text only adds to the escalating emotional intensity, with Renée Fleming’s ever more voluminous voice providing a Greek chorus all her own, radiantly exploding the small night office on stage, leaving us with so many shards and splinters, so many leads and ideas and feelings, and yes, haunted.”

(Rehearsal photos.)

On to my own thoughts! So, I appreciate Anne Carson’s writing a great deal, and what pleased me the most with that play was the brilliance and poetry of the language. There’s wit, cleverness, and beauty in the text itself. I’d recommend reading the play to anyone who likes reading experimental theatre or poetry.

The themes drew me in quickly when I first heard of the project. I was always interested in Helen’s story and viewpoint in the Trojan War, always struck by the tragedy and sadness of Monroe’s life, and that myth of the poisonous beauty. I was pleasantly surprised to discover other interests of mine also catered to, while watching the play: my love of etymology - especially greek - or even the bit about psychoanalysis. As a topic, war interests me less, but I did not find myself tuning out during the ‘histories of war’ as I have read others have, as they were short, understandable, and as well and efficiently written as the rest.

I have never read Euripides’s Helen, but know the gist of it, and I don’t know a whole lot about Monroe, but I found the play very self-explanatory, so long as you’re ready to let it “wash over you” as the creative team recommended, and don’t fixate on some of the more obscure references. I did not find it hard to follow at all, actually, nor all that abstract. And the huge reward is that the text has so many layers of meaning, and is so very evocative, that I found myself thinking on it, and making connections, and appreciating it, for quite some time after seeing the play. (I still do, actually, well over a week on).

(Rehearsals. You can see a wire running up his back to some sort of earbud, which he wore - quite conspicuously imo - during the run too. I’m guessing it was some sort of help for when he had to sing?)

I loved the text so much, so here’s an excerpt I find gorgeous and horrific and oh so efficient, made all the more brilliant for the way Ben’s and Renée’s voices interweave, sometimes speaking, sometimes singing:

“BW (singing): And isn’t that how it always starts, this myth that ends with the "girl grown bad"?

RF (singing, jazzy): She's in a meadow gathering flowers

twirling her own small sunny hours.

BW (speaking, darkly): When up rides a man on black horses.

Up rides a man in a black hat.

Up rides a man with a black letter to deliver.

RF (singing, jazzy, ethereal): Shall I make you my queen?

She's maybe 12 or 13.

RF (speaking harshly): Rape

BW (speaking): Yes, rape

is the story of Helen,

RF (speaking): Persephone,

Norma Jeane,

Troy.

RF (singing, more operatic): War is the context

and God is a boy.

Oh my darlings,

they tell you you’re born with a precious pearl.

((A precious pearl.))

Truth is,

oh, it’s a disaster to be a girl.

((It’s a disaster to be a girl.

A girl.

A girl.))

Up came the black horses and the dark King.

And the harsh harsh sunshine was as if it had never been.

In the halls of Hades they said I was queen.

((They said I was queen.

They said I was queen.))"

(For anyone who’s interested, here’s a link to a tumblr post where you’ll find an (illicit) recording of the whole play.)

I read the play before seeing it the second time around, and that helped me better understand some details from the previous night (I’ll get to what makes the play sometimes harder to get), and it also added to my appreciation of the text on the second viewing. I am grateful to the fellow fan who advised me to read it (when we were chatting, waiting for Ben to leave, the first night), and who told me they sold it at the bookstore set up in a corner of the lobby.

(I actually read the play while in my seat waiting for it to start, the second night. It’s a very quick read.)

(the set as seen from my seat the first night vs the second night.)

On to the actors and directing ! I know that part of what made me like the text so much is certainly due to the way it was told and presented. I liked a lot of directing choices. The way they explained away Ben being male and still being a voice for Norma Jeane worked very well imo. (It might not have worked quite that well with many other male actors, granted.) I thought I would find the set (an office space straight from the 60s) a bit drab, but I ended up liking it, and it fit well with the story. I also liked the sound design (made up mostly of recordings of Renée’s voice). And I loved the way that, at first, Renée’s voice is only heard in recordings that are meant to be her thoughts (echoing Ben’s words) - it worked really really well. I thought it was fine that we did not know much about either characters, their motivations, backgrounds, stories, desires and inner thoughts. There was a lot to be understood about them in the way they acted, reacted, and the emotions they showed. The rest is up to interpretation, which is liberating for the imagination. I like when the audience is not spoon-fed a message, an intent, a categorical viewpoint etc.

The play had this very lovely trick that has Ben’s character dictating what turns out to be the play’s actual text to Renée’s character (who types it) as if it were his own translation of Euripides’ Helen, complete with his own encroaching obsession with Monroe (due to her recent suicide). I thought it clever and original. Also what a feat of memory! It meant Ben was saying out loud every “comma”, and “new line”, and “brackets”, and so on! It also lent itself to some funny moments and laughter from the audience (see “Fritz Lang, the famous director. Period. New line. That’s enough about him. Period. New Line.”). I liked how Renée’s character slowly starts contributing to the text, and the tongue-in-cheek bits where she’s starting to get used to his writing style and answers “comma” or “new line” at the right place, and the way he beams right back at her. As a whole, the growing complicity between both characters is quite touching, and an efficient way to show it, is when they start both contributing to the text, answering each other’s line, and building it together, as it were (see the long quotation above). And the fact that everything in the text was said, including stage directions, provided the play with a very beautiful (imo) last line, “Exeunt omnes singing.”, which I greatly enjoyed, and found very fitting.

I thought the ‘history of war’ bits were cleverly interwoven, and useful for the getting on of what was also happening to the characters beyond the story they were telling about Helen and Monroe. That is to say: Ben’s character’s slow transformation into Monroe, as he seems to try to get as close to her as he can, to maybe try and understand her from the inside. The ‘history of war’ lessons were all pre-recorded by Ben, and would often play while he was gradually shedding his suit, applying - a lot of - makeup, putting on some lingerie and necessary padding (breasts, hips, buttocks), getting heels and the iconic white dress. And it made sense story-wise, as the ‘history of war’ lessons came in the shape of recorded tapes of Ben’s character’s notes, that Renée’s character would listen to as she typed them.

What worked less well for me, was when Ben was speaking while Renée was singing. It happened often enough, and while their voices were well calibrated most of the time, it made it hard to understand or even hear the both of them at once. I know I missed a few things the first night because of that, and I think it would have been easy to stop listening or give up trying to at some of those points. A lot of focus was required to keep track of both of what they were saying/singing.

The second night, I was in the eighth row, so I could see people leaving during the play, and there were something like 7 or 8 that did. A fan I chatted with afterwards mentioned how the men next to her kept whispering “Shall we leave?” to each other (which is just fucking rude and annoying for the people next to them, gdi). I have no idea what it was that made so many people leave (especially considering the cost of the seats!!). Was the play just too complex? Are people not used to poetic language? Were the anachronisms too disturbing? (And yet there was always laughter at stuff like “Arthur of Sparta and New York”!) Was it Ben’s slow transformation into a woman that was disturbing? Or did people feel they knew and understood too little about the characters?

Well, it was their loss, especially given the quality of performers they had the privilege to see before their own eyes. I’ll talk more about Ben than Renée because he is, ultimately, the reason I went to see the play, and he’s the one I’ve been a fan of for so long. But Renée was just great, her voice and singing were absolutely stunning and gorgeous. I know I had not heard her sing jazz before, but she was so good! I loved that there were different music styles. I really liked the pre-recorded swingy track that played while Ben was dancing (partly for the dichotomy between the joyous carefree singing and the text itself which was form a ‘history of war’ lesson)... One thing I don’t get is people wondering why she would take on such a part and project, when it should seem obvious why she did so: because she wanted to. She’s at a stage in her career where she can do absolutely anything she wants to, and she’s a sufficiently grounded person that she doesn’t need to be at the center of the attention all the time?? Maybe the text called to her, maybe it was the concept of a ‘melologue’, maybe the sheer artistry? She probably explains it somewhere in an interview I haven’t read, but I, for one, respect her choice, and feel very grateful that I had the opportunity to be mere meters away as she was performing. She clearly enjoyed a good relationship with Ben too (see their filmed interview (here’s an excerpt), or how they’d smile at each other during curtain calls, or the fact that they’d spend time together at the bar in the lobby after the play).

On to Ben ! I think I pretty much kept my eyes glued on him 99,5% of the time, which was a personal choice I’m happy with ;) He was everything I could ever hope him to be. A masterful actor, capable of a huge range of emotions and character, and great nuance and absolute authenticity. Everything he did felt true and on point (strangely enough, the part I believed him the less was a brief moment when he cried, the first night?? maybe I’m too used to the very best crying from him...). His American accent sounded pretty good to my foreigner ears. Mostly, I was deeply impressed by the way his character slowly transformed from a distant yet agitated male office manager to a sweet, distressed, extremely genuine, and very touching Marilyn Monroe. His character gained in depth (while seeming to express very simple things), humanity, and freedom, in the process. I really appreciated the authenticity he radiated, which struck me especially when talking about the daughter, Hermione, or the sweetly innocent way he laughed or danced. There was no vanity in the transformation, and no objectification of a woman’s body, which - as a woman - I was grateful for.

Ben’s utter lack of inhibitions while on stage felt like a true blessing, and was absolutely impressive. I hope it means that the way my considerations will soon turn quite objectifying is not too horrible a thing... To start off lightly, I’ll say that he sung beautifully, and could even hold his own in a duet with Renée, which is very very impressive. He also danced surprisingly well (with coordinated moves!). And I might have metaphorically drooled when he did. Good God, Ben’s dancing was a thing of beauty and sin. It was extremely seductive and playful, yet innocent and sweet. It felt both sexual and chaste. Idek. He would smile sweetly and laugh self-consciously a couple of times while dancing, which made his character quite endearing. Did I mention that it happened while he was wearing a corset, heels, and trousers that beautifully hugged his arse? That moment made crossing the Atlantic to see the play more than worth it.

The fact that he showed a lot of his body was far from displeasing either, omg. (And again, I marvel at his utter lack of inhibitions.) The only article of clothing he did not lose were his briefs (and he spent a lot of time adding padding to his hips and buttocks underneath a second pair of underpants, which meant there were a few minutes where he was adjusting things down there and being very hands-on). What looked the best on him by far was the corset, which he would put on expertly. I know I have a slightly obsessive admiration for his tiny teensy waist, and it was a joy to see it so beautifully emphasised. In a perfect world, Ben Whishaw should always appear in a corset...

Am I creepy yet? I hope not! To finish on appearances, I’ll say that while he’d kept his scarce body hair, it did not look too bad when he wore the feminine clothes, and that the dress and heels (of which there were two pairs btw) looked good on him. He seemed at ease in the clothing, and had no trouble with the heels, even though he was not 100% a pro at walking with them. The makeup also looked good on him, but I have reservations about the red nails (especially while he was still wearing his dark green suit). And I’m not too sure about the wig. Blond just does not suit him. At the end, he did not really look anything like Monroe. But it was obvious he was meant to, and it did not really matter that he did not, imo. It didn’t bother me, anyway.

There’s the matter of his muscles too, which another tumblr user commented on in her (great) review, talking them up so much that I started to fear they would be hideously big! His frame is slight, and I appreciate harmony. Thankfully, there was nothing disharmonious about his muscles, and I did not notice much of a difference from his more recent appearances. Sure, he’s more built than he was in his twenties, but not dramatically so. The point is, he looked definitely healthy, and that’s a big plus considering what he used to look like...

End of the objectifying ramblings ;)

For me it was a (very) long-awaited dream come true, to finally see Ben act in front of my own two eyes, and Lord were all my (high) expectations met. He is clearly in his element on stage, and delivers the best performances. I know I am influenced by my mother (who was an actress in her youth) when I rate the stage the highest, but truly, it’s the liveliest and most direct medium for story-telling. Ben has made me feel a lot for the past ten years of watching his on-screen work, but there’s something to be said about being in the same room, as he says the words, emotes, moves, and creates his character out of his material. I was especially glad for my (center) third row seat the first night, which allowed me to really see Ben’s and Renée’s faces and perceive all the subtle emotions that played there.

That third row seat also allowed me a one-of-a-kind experience, that can only happen at the theatre. The play starts with Ben’s character coming in and setting his things around. Then, seated at the front desk, facing the audience, he starts talking, recording history of war number nine. It’s a long-ish rambling speech, that his character says quite seriously but passionately, seemingly searching for words, and with many different ideas clashing about. It’s very stream of consciousness, and it takes place before the fifth minute of the play. And right in the middle of this, all of a sudden, Ben stares right into my eyes, and maintains eye-contact for the next 20 seconds or so, continuing to deliver that monologue of sort. Picture it, if you will : here I am, very intent on listening, and then, bam, we lock eyes, and I kinda freak out, trying to maintain a composed outer appearance. I honestly did not know what to do any longer. It felt like an eternity. It was spooky, intense, and amazing. I had no-one to my left or right for a couple of seats (which was unexpected?), so there was no mistaking he was staring at me. My mother confirmed that actors can see the first three or four rows of the audience perfectly well. She said she’d avoid looking at them, for fear of losing her concentration, but that it spoke to Ben’s level of professionalism, experience, and mastery, that he could afford to choose to look at anyone he damn well pleased in the audience, while acting perfectly...

Needless to say, it was a unique experience, that could have made my night all on its own. Only, I was a girl with a purpose, and I had also planned to try my luck at the stage door. Which did not exist per se. But thanks to this very timely review (thank you @moonwest!!), I knew that the performers were likely to exit via the lobby and that there was the chance to meet them there. So I chose to wait there after the play.

When Ben came down the first night, he made a beeline for the bar, to meet with Mark and someone else (some older man). So the few fans waiting about kept waiting about, and it was a nice chance to chat with a couple of lovely students from China. So much so, that I missed Renée’s departure. She had joined Ben & co at the bar, but left quickly, walked right past us, and was not stopped by anyone. She proceeded to take the subway home that night, as she posted about on her instagram.

Soon enough, Ben left too, we intercepted him gently, and he graciously stopped. Mark kind of disappeared, but the other man hanged about and carried some of Ben’s presents (including a rose bouquet from one of the girls I was chatting with), so that Ben could keep a free hand. He agreed with us that Ben was amazing and very kind. (This man is damn right.) There were maybe five of us, and we each got the time to talk to him, give him presents, take pictures etc. He was very humble, almost shy, but gracious, very kind, and very polite. He made me feel at ease. There was a beautiful gentleness. I got to thank him and compliment the play (quite articulately, to my amazement, haha). He signed my playbill. I gave him chocolate (almost apologetically, but he assured me he liked that kind of stuff). And I asked (very politely) for a hug, and he agreed, and it was sort of the best moment of my life. Maybe I should have mentioned that I had admired him for the past ten years, and came over to NYC especially for him and the play, but it felt too intense or extreme, so I did not. I did not dare ask for a photo then, but the next girl thrust her phone at me to take her pic with Ben. This started a round of photo taking. I was the last one to go up to him to ask for photos, having entrusted my phone to one of the two girls I had been chatting with earlier - and she, very wisely, took the liberty to take a photo of Ben while he was chatting with another fan (see above). She would also exclaim stuff to me in French (she’d jumped at the chance to practice her French with me). (Does Ben know what “Il est si mignon!” means? Cause he might have heard her ^^’. Well, he is cute.) At last (”it’s the last one”, mentioned the older guy, keeping up and talking about me), Ben posed with me, and I was amazingly calm. I think I was just too happy and contented to be anything else. I absolutely love the two photos that that fellow fan took of us, and I treasure them greatly. He left quietly then, having been extremely considerate with us all.

That stage door experience the first night was just perfect, so I was at peace with anything that might happen the second night. I had already accomplished a decade-long goal: see Ben on-stage, and get a chance to talk to him. He took longer to come down the second night, kind of scanned the lobby on his way down the escalator, finally found his friends and went to their table. I kept a discreet eye on it, and caught Mark’s arrival (the two of them hugged) later on. They took their time (and I almost left), then finally started leaving. I had struck up a conversation with a fellow Ben Whishaw fan (and kind of rescued her from watching the escalators long after Ben had already arrived in the lobby), so the two of us approached Ben. (Again, Mark is a master at disappearing??) (And so were the two friends.) The other fan mentioned that she’d seen him in Julius Caesar last year, and Ben asked if she’d been part of the crowd. I was too tired that night to think up of anything clever to say, so I just thanked him, completely forgot to give him the present I had prepared (more chocolate, with a little note this time, which had taken me so long to write because of my horrible handwriting), and asked if he would sign my copy of the play. He started by signing his name, then I panicked because I also wanted him to address it to me but didn’t know of a polite way to ask for it and so kept silent, but he totally rescued me by asking me my name. He struggled a bit with it, and I had to spell it twice because he stopped in the middle of it, lost. Then realisation struck, and he pronounced it out loud the English way (which sounds nothing like the French pronunciation of it). He added ‘love’ and an x to the autograph. I thanked him profusely, barely awake, but very grateful. The other woman asked for a selfie, my last waking brain-cell told me to congratulate him on his (very recent then) BAFTA, which I did (wondering if I sounded like an idiot), and he graciously thanked me and then left quickly. Renée did not appear in the lobby that night. (Or maybe I missed her. Again.)

As an aside : Mark’s fashion sense is an utter disaster. Seriously. Ben’s new overalls were very much in evidence both nights, and it’s quite cute (I don’t love them, but it’s cute). And his hair had regained all its famed wildness after being somewhat tamed during the play (see pictures above). Less shallowly, I’d like to stress how incredible the difference between his true character and what he can do on stage is. Irl, he’s this humble, gentle, quite introverted man, and on stage he shines and dazzles, dares all, and bares his soul. That dichotomy is beyond impressive. And it’s fucking fascinating.

(Curtain call photos from the first night I attended, source.) (And here are links to beautiful pictures of Ben at the ‘stage door’, taken by the fan with the rose bouquet I met the first night. She’s also the one who recommended I read the play. Have a peek at her photos, if you feel like it. She has many many more on her instagram.)

So... it’s been almost two weeks since all of that happened, and I have been very busy, but I am still filled with joy and happiness about it all. It makes me smile widely any time I think back on this gorgeous experience. I cherish my memories (and memorabilia!) of it, and will for a very very long time. I plan on going to see more of his plays, if I can, and if they speak to me. Finally fulfilling that old dream was the wisest decision I took this year. And as a psych student, I cannot help but notice that there is a lesson there, in actually realising one’s dreams if one can (eg financially), no matter how frivolous, extravagant, or silly we might judge them to be, because it will do us a whole lot of good, and bring tremendous happiness and appreciation in one’s life. I am truly grateful for this beautiful experience.

Thank you to any mad person’s who’s read me this far! Please to not hesitate to drop me a line if you want even further details (and i’ll delight in racking my brain & memory for you), or just to gush about the play and/or Ben Whishaw =D

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

I Thought I Dreamed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Dismembered body parts, mentions of blood, and that’s about it??

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS ITS FINISHED. Oh my goodness that was hard, I don’t understand why. I still hardcore hate it, but I love you guys too much to leave you hanging. So here is part two to Dreams. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for sticking around through my terrible writer blocks.

...

[ Part One ]

“You’re sure it isn’t just a concussion?” Your fiancé says, his voice cracking with nerves. The bathroom tile of your hotel room is cool beneath your legs, Spencer sits directly across from you with your feet in his lap and his fingers tracing worried patterns across your shins.

Above your head on the bathroom counter, is a pregnancy test that still has three more minutes to come up with a yes or no answer to the question you were pretty sure you already knew the answer to. Balanced in your lap is a book about dream analysis that you’d picked up on the way to the hotel tonight.

“I had a dream, Spence. This books says that nearly everything about my dream pointed to me being pregnant.” His eyes narrow, one hand reaching out to flip through the pages you’ve tagged with sticky bookmarks. Your soon to be husband is a book fanatic, you’d learned early on that dog-eared pages were the antichrist of all book lovers everywhere.

“If you are pregnant, I can assure you that the dream was just your subconscious telling you what it had already pieced together before your conscious mind.” The clock outside the bathroom door ticks slowly. You think back to the little boy in your dream, and as scary as having two children so close together in age may be, you can’t help but be a little excited at the thought of a baby Spencer in the world.

“You don’t believe in dream analysis, so your opinion on the matter is biased.”

“Arguably, every opinion is biased. No one person can be one-hundred percent objective no matter the circumstances.” He’d have Spencer’s eyes, Graeson does already and she’s not even half a year old. Was it wrong of you to hope that all your children with Spencer would look and be exactly like him? Hopefully, in terms of intelligence, they would both be carbon copies of their father.

The tears that come to your eyes surprise you when you think about him taking the kids to a museum, holding your son in his arms and one of his fingers wrapped in your daughter’s grasp as he explains every artifact and display. Hastily, you reach up to wipe at the streams of water that wet your cheeks. Spencer sets the book aside, leaning forward worriedly.

Ashamed of your sudden mood swing, another blatant sign that you could be pregnant, you avoid eye contact by staring at the clock.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle, his hands reaching out to smooth down the sides of your arms, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” Your nose crinkles as you try to bite back the next onslaught of tears, hoping the last minute will go by fast. When you finally meet his gaze, the puddles of emotion that collected in your eyes spill over once again.

“You’ll take them to museums, right? You’ll make sure our kids aren’t dumb, right?” You don’t know why it’s so important to you, but the helplessness you feel is all too familiar as you recall a similar moment from your previous pregnancy.

“(Y/N). Breathe. Calm down.” You look up at your boyfriend from the bathtub, feeling not unlike a beached whale with your oversized stomach poking over the surface of the water surrounding you. The sides of the tub dig into your fingers as you grip the edges so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

“I can’t calm down, Spencer! I don’t have enough time. I’m not prepared. If I’m not prepared now then who is to say I’m even supposed to be a mother? What if I completely screw our kid up? I don’t-” The air in your lungs doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like all too much at the same time. You’ve never felt like this before, especially not in the middle of a relaxing bath.

Slowly, Spencer reaches into the tub and pulls the stopper out of the bottom. With his other hand, he helps to pull you to your feet and wrap you in a soft, pink towel. He keeps making shushing noises like it’s going to help the overwhelming anxiety of becoming a new parent and, as much as you love him, it makes you want to scream.

But just before you give into your urges, he steps in front of you and lowers himself so that you don’t have to look up to meet his eyes. Either one of his hands come up to cradle your cheeks, you wonder if he notices the weight you’ve gained there since you started nearing your due date.

“You won’t screw our kid up. We will, together.” And you can’t help but let the laughter bubble out of your chest as you lean into him, letting his arms wrap around you as you lay your soaking wet head over his heart.

“We will, together.” He says again, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he closes the distance to press a kiss to your forehead, causing you to close your eyes and force a deep breathe in through your nose, he plucks the test from the counter.

“Spencer! I thought this was a together thing!” You jump to your feet, reaching for the test that he has hanging over your head just out of reach.

“It is babe, but you have the advantage of knowing before me when it comes to these things and I just really want to know first one time.” You whine in protest, trying to determine the results on the small pink stick by profiling his body language.

His hand still up in the air, he tilts the small window toward his face. Both eyebrows go up, but his expression stays emotionless otherwise. Not even a muscle in his cheeks twitch. He’s way too good at hiding things when he wants to.

“Spencer.” You warn in your best imitation of Hotch’s commanding voice, stretching back up on your toes, your fingertips brush the plastic siding before he wraps his free arm around your back and pulls you to his chest. His kisses are like soft butterfly wings against your cheeks, eyelids, chin, forehead, and eventually lips.

In the two years you’ve been with Spencer, there have been all kinds of kisses. Kisses of burning passion and simmering anger, kisses of a deep and slow love, kisses of overwhelming joy and uncontrollable relief, but it’s this kind of kiss you’ve only ever felt once before.

The hand holding the test comes down to cradle your face, a thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. It reminds you of the way an art enthusiast might reach out to touch a painting or sculpture in awe, his lips moving against your own like you were a Goddess that he was praying to with complete faith and devotion.

When he finally broke away, his eyelashes damp with happy tears (and maybe a few scared tears), the facade is shattered and you can read his face like an open book.

“You’re getting really good at that mom voice for someone with a five month old.” He teased.

“And one on the way?” You have to make sure, you want to hear it come from his lips. Screw the test.

“Did you dream it was a boy, because I think it would be really cool if we had a boy this time.” You laugh into his lips, throwing both arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level. The curls that sway at his shoulder brush against the crooks of your elbows before you tangle your fingers into his hair.

And then, just like the horny teenagers you two definitely were around each other, he bends down and swoops you into his arms. The high pitched squealing laugh that bubbled between both of your lips came from you as he started to turn back to the hotel room.

“Now I’m really gonna have to make up for lost time while I can.” He teases, turning sideways so your feet and head don’t hit the doorframe.

The next day, back on the case of the dead girls with missing hands, the team notices the different energy between you. Like the way Spencer’s mouth opens in protest when Hotch suggests you accompany Morgan to the house of a possible suspect. You glare daggers at him from the door, a silent conversation flying between you before he finally closes his mouth and sinks into his seat. It did not go unnoticed by every other person in the room.

Or the day after that, when you offer to go get coffee for everyone instead of letting them drink nasty precinct coffee. (Something you used to do a lot when you’d been pregnant with Graeson and the places you went didn’t have decaf.)

The biggest tip off is the passing of peppermints between you and Spencer, the young doctor having somehow found the time to go to a convenience store and buy a bulk sized bag of the red and white candies to help with your nausea. The bag crinkles when he reaches into his satchel every so often.

Despite the fact that they all catch on pretty quickly, nobody says anything. They figure that you’ll tell them when you’re ready. Instead they focus on the case, which had been your hope the whole time.

You’re near the end of the investigation at this point, sucking on a peppermint and racing for one of the two addresses that Garcia had sent to your phones. Just this morning, another body had been found. His fuse was getting smaller as the days had passed and the investigation crawled at an unusually slow pace, meaning you were cutting it close to the wire if you wanted to save whatever poor girl had unknowingly incurred this man’s wrath.

With you, on the way to the workplace of a Ryan Christopher, is JJ, Hotch, and Prentiss. Rossi, Morgan, and Reid have their own car headed for his home. You’re in the backseat, holding onto your stomach and the edge of the leather bench seat as Hotch races through traffic. Garcia is explaining her findings over the speakerphone, you can hear Morgan and Reid interjecting every so often with their own thoughts and comments.

It isn’t until the SUV that you’ve been sliding around in finally bumps into the parking lot outside of a carpentry workshop that Hotch ends the call. The boys on one of the other two ends of the line say their own salutations, also approaching the unsub’s home.

“Be careful!” Spencer shouts to you over everyone. It’s really cute. You would dwell on it more, but given the fact that you were about to walk into a possible altercation with an unsub, you decided that staying sharp and focused was the way to go.

Quickly, all three FBI Agents slip out of the car, clustering together long enough to come up with a game plan. You rush for the back door, JJ gets the side, and Hotch readies himself at the front. It isn’t until every room in the workshop is clear that a little tension leaves your shoulders.

It’s obvious that he’s been here though, with giant pools of blood dried onto a workbench in one of the rooms. And if you weren’t sure of this man’s guilt before, then the small freezer full of hands that is bolted shut is enough to convince you otherwise.

“What is the point in bolting something shut if you have bolt cutters lying in the same room?” JJ comments, tossing her pale gold pony over her shoulder before letting the tool settle against the strap of her Kevlar.

You turn away from the freezer to try and quell the rolling in your stomach.

“I’m going to call Morgan to see if they have anything.” At this point, they should have cleared the house or arrested him, making you feel comfortable enough to pull out your phone and dial Derek’s number. He answers on the second ring, his tone of voice telling you everything that you need to know.

“Hey Mamacita, I’m gonna go ahead and assume he’s not over there?” The rest of the tension that you had been unconsciously holding in your chest leaves with the breath of relief that deflates your lungs. You shake your head, walking away from the freezer of hands to tell him everything you’d found in the ten minutes you’d been inside the workshop.

“That’s just a little gross,” Morgan comments. “Hey Spencer- Spencer!” His voice goes up an octave, booming through the speaker and reverberating in your ear.

“Morgan?! Morgan, what’s wrong?!” The sound of the phone clattering to the floor and a single gunshot is the only response you receive before you’re racing back outside.

The tires of the SUV screech against the asphalt outside Ryan Christopher’s home. Your heart leaped out of your chest with the wild swing of the vehicle underneath you. Ambulances, SUVs, and police cruisers scatter the road and lawn in front of you, several faces lifting to find the source of the sound.

“(Y/N)!” JJ cried, white knuckling the arm of her seat and the ‘Oh Shit’ handle above her head. The car was barely in park when you fumbled for the latch of your seatbelt, kicking the door open and rushing into the hordes of first responders.

You should have never agreed to let them separate you from each other. That was the only thing you could think the moment you heard Morgan cry your fiancé’s name over the phone.

“Spencer?!” You pushed past a couple of local cops who shot you dirty looks when you shoved your way between them. Your eyes couldn’t take in all the details around you fast enough, all you could focus on was finding the top of a curly brown head of hair. Rossi was the first to come up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady gaze.

“Don’t panic.” He said in the least reassuring manner humanly possible. You didn’t give him time to explain before you tore from his arms and ducked around him.

Ambulance. He would be in an ambulance. If he’s hurt that bad, you hope the ambulance has already left, but at the same time you need to see him. If you don’t you might actually vomit right here in the middle of everyone.

“SPENCER REID!” The sound came from your chest, booming over the clamor and bustle of everyone around you. More people stopped and stared as you stumbled toward the emergency vehicles parked at the other side of the mass of people. You didn’t care. The lack of response was setting you on edge.

Just before you could yell his name again, he suddenly appeared like a ghost might appear out of thin air. He certainly was as pale as a ghost, sitting at the end of an open ambulance with an ice pack gingerly held against the back of his head. One of his lanky arms was raised into the air, waving you over.

When you flew into his arms, burying your face into his chest and inhaling his familiar scent of coffee and laundry soap, he grunted a little in pain.

“Careful, I’m not broke but I’m definitely sore.” You loosened your grip from around his ribs, leaning back and beginning an assessment of his limbs and appendages. Everything was, thankfully, in its rightful place, but cuts and freshly forming bruises were littered all over his arms and face.

“We weren’t even separated an hour and this is how I come back to find you? Do you have no concern for my nerves? My sanity?!” Your voice is shrill with residual panic, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt so that they wouldn’t shake. Slowly, Spencer lowers the ice pack to the ambulance flooring before looping his arm around the tops of your shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, letting you ramble away the hysteria as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“You can’t ever get hurt, Spencer. We have a baby. We have two babies, actually. Stress is bad for pregnant women, you can’t put me under this kind of stress, I just, how could you be so careless? What even happened? You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’m so mad at you right now, Spencer Reid. Just you wait until I’m not consumed with relief that you’re not dead, I might kill you myself.”

The tears wetting your cheeks betray your words, the rant loosing any of its sting as your voice cracks through it.

Putting his hands on either side of your face, he lifts your head up until you’re staring into those eyes you love so much that it actually rips your heart into a thousand tiny pieces every time you think about it.

“Breathe. Didn’t you just say stress isn’t good for the baby?” You want to punch him in the mouth and kiss him senseless at the same time, narrowing your eyes and fighting the smile that Spencer can already see twisting the edges of your lips.

“If you ever do that again-” You start to say, trying and failing to shake away the nightmarish possibilities you’d conjured up in your head on the twenty minute drive from Ryan’s workshop. Spencer smothers your rant into his chest when he folds you back into his arms, cradling the back of your head in one of his large hands.

“I will be more considerate of your nerves going forward, Mrs. Bennet.” He teases. You playfully swat at his back before finally letting his embrace settle over you with it’s usual calming affect.

…

“So are we allowed to talk about how you’re pregnant again?” JJ teases from the front of the elevator, unable to contain her own excitement when she notices the way you and Spencer have your heads leaned together in secret near the back.

Your head pops up, nearly bumping against your fiancée’s with the speed in which move to look at JJ. A cursory sweep across the faces of the rest of the team tells you that JJ isn’t the only one who had connected the dots.

“I hate working with profilers.” You groan, thankful for the ding that signals the opening doors. The sight of the BAU is very much welcome, calling to your fatigued limbs the way a siren might call to a pirate ship. This is your last stop before your bed. Your mother always babysat Graeson in your own home, which made it so much easier when you came back late and you weren’t in the mood to stop by her house at one or two o’clock in the morning to pick up your daughter.

“Hey, don’t get mad at us because you and pretty boy are terrible at keeping secrets.” Morgan teases, elbowing Spencer on his way out of the cramped elevator.

“And using contraceptive, apparently.” Prentiss comments as she goes about shuffling papers and files between bags on her desk. You send her a teasing glare, only letting her slide when she pulls you in for a congratulatory hug.

After she lets go, everyone files in one by one for their own congratulations, patting Spencer on the back (lightly, he has a minor concussion and some serious bruises) and squeezing you into excited hugs. Once Rossi pulls away with a teasing remark about how you find the time for sex between cases and a five month old baby, you pick up your things.

“Ready to go home?” Spencer smiles from his desk, gathering his own things into his arms before making his way over to you.

“I’ve been ready for hours.” You sigh, making your way back to the elevator. Someone shouts a last minute congratulations to you before you get to the clear doors. The sound of hurried heels clicking against the floor stops you in your tracks.

Somehow, in all the exhaustion and all the chaos, you’d forgotten Garcia.

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

[ohkiyo]

characters: shiratorizawa team, reader, sakusa kiyoomi, and komori motoya. (quick appearance)

warnings: none, just some good ‘ol fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: this is like a peace offering for not posting any content for the last two or three weeks (?), I also did not intend for this to reach over 5k+ words lol, so hopefully you won’t get bored reading this one. I also gave up editing this somewhere in the middle, so yeah that’s that hahaha. XD

anyways have fun and enjoy! :D

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

    shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“We’re going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship, zooming through the sky! Little Einsteins~” both you and Goshiki bounce on your seat at the back of the bus, singing the theme song of the cartoon you two watch for fun a few days ago. “Climb aboard, get ready to explore there’s so much to find little Einsteins~”

“Aren’t they excited?” a fond smile made its way into Semi’s face as he watches the two first years belting their hearts out to a song made for children. Tendou and Yamagata joining the two, causing the overall noise inside the bus to increased in volume. Their English pronunciation was horrible, but it didn’t stop them from sharing their – talent.

Kawanishi, who was two seats away from the four was also humming along, snacking on a chocolate bar, his phone on his hand capturing it all on camera, probably for future blackmail material. While Shirabu who was seated beside him, continues to sleep, unbothered by the ruckus happening inside the bus.

“This is their first time going to Tokyo after all” Reon answered, before he tilted his head to the side when they switch to a different song, this time, it was Tendou’s famous baki baki ni ore. “Since when did Satori taught them that?”

“Probably since the moment they joined”

They were currently on their way to Tokyo for a practice match with another college volleyball team, the colleges that they use to play against in Miyagi were coincidentally busy with academics, something about an upcoming exam that they need to prepare for so they had to cancel.

Fortunately, with Shiratorizawa being a powerhouse school, Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei had connections to institutions outside of Miyagi. So they called up a friend who’s currently handling a college volleyball team and requested for a practice match.

The singing lasted for another thirty minutes before they eventually fell asleep, the bus now quiet. Washijou-sensei who was seated up front, let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence, something that Semi and Reon didn’t fail to notice. The two chuckled, as strict as he may be, Washijou-sensei knows when to let his players have their fun, he isn’t exactly a killjoy like some had thought. He’s actually very nice, once you get to know him of course.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“You’re allowed to go sightseeing but please always bring a buddy with you, to prevent anyone from getting lost” his eyes landed on the older members, silently asking them to keep a close eye on their two first years. “Washijou-sensei and I will be meeting up with Coach Sasaki, so be back before 11”

Everyone nods their heads at his words before the two finally entered the elevator once it reaches your floor. The hotel you were staying at was a bit high class, you don’t know how the club’s fund covered it, but you weren’t complaining.

Each one of you had your own separate room, each guest had three food slips with, one was a free access to an eat-all-you-can food at the dining area’s buffet, while the other two were for a free breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

“So...” Tendou turned around, a grin plastered on his face as he held up the food slip the receptionist gave earlier. “Let’s go fill up our belly and enjoy Tokyo’s nightlife”

With that all nine of you piled into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, the space a little too tight for your liking. The elevator stops at another floor, two new people entered, resulting in them moving backward to create a space for the newcomers, leaving you to press yourself to the wall.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Ushijima whispered, after accidentally stepping on your foot, he looks over his shoulder as you gave him a thumbs up. Your face now buried on his shirt, his perfume entering your nostrils.

He sure does smell nice, no wonder the girls are after him.

Luckily, for you, your struggle did not last long because finally, the elevator reaches the bottom floor. You swore you almost past out because of how cramp that space was, you feel like you were starting to develop claustrophobia because of it. For a fancy hotel, they sure have very small elevators.

Your group weaves through the other guest inside the hotel, some of them going back to their rooms; some were going the same way as you all were, while the others were going out to enjoy whatever Tokyo has to offer.

“Tokyo hotels are on another level” you whispered, following after them as they went over to where the eating utensils were placed. You carefully scanned the foods displayed, cuisines coming from different countries were all too delicious-looking, you feel like you want to have a plate of each.

“You’re drooling (Y/n)” you heard Shirabu say as he walks past you, the person that was standing behind the counter chuckled as you rub the spit that unknowingly trickled down your chin.

“Sorry”

“It’s fine” she laughs again before she suggested the lamb meat for you to taste. You haven’t tried lamb before so you accepted her offer, watching as she threw in a bunch of slices into the grill. “Well done or medium?”

“Well done please” she started tossing the meat around the steel griddle, the wonderful smell reaching your nose. It smelled so delicious, as the meat slowly turns to that familiar charred look of a well-cooked meat. Once she was done, she places it on your plate as she suggested for you to drizzle it with some of the sauce near the grills.

You moved from one area to another, filling your plate with foods before finally taking a seat on the table they occupied.

“Now we know who are the best people to bring to buffets” Yamagata mused, eyeing yours and Goshiki’s plate filled with different kinds of food, not only that, there were at least one or two more plates on the side also filled with foods.

“They’re big eaters”

Kawanishi took a piece of meat from your plate, exchanging it with a fried dumpling that he accidentally dipped in a spicy sauce. He can handle his spice, however, this particular dip was so spicy his mouth was burning from it.

“Kawanishi-san why…?” you took the glass of cold water Ushijima offered you as you drank it all. It didn’t help though, your mouth was still burning, so Semi fed you a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, the dessert finally easing the flames in your mouth.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Kawanishi bit his lip to stop the smile threatening to come out, secretly sharing a low five with Tendou from under the table. However, that didn’t go unnoticed from Semi’s watchful eyes, stepping on the red head’s foot, Semi shoots him a pointed look as Tendou tries to remove his leg.

“Ow, ow, Semi-Semi that hurts”

The setter didn’t listen to him and continued eating his meal, they all ate in silence after that. Too hungry to strike a conversation with each other, their attention focus on the food in front of them.

Dinner went by fast, once they had finished their food they went out of the hotel and walk through Tokyo. The streets are a little too crowded than the ones they’re used to in Sendai, passing by different kinds of coffee shops, restaurants, inns, and hotels. The choices were endless, it all depends on where you all plan to go.

“Let’s go there first, I want to buy some manga” Tendou pointed at a rather large book shop just across the street, customers walking in and out of the store, wrapped packages in hand.

The inside was filled with rows and rows of shelves full of books, such as novels, textbooks, and of course, manga, on the sides were a section for school supplies and other similar materials. Tendou looks like he’s in heaven because the store offers manga that wasn’t available in Sendai. The moment his foot steps inside the store, he immediately disappeared behind the shelves where the manga was displayed.

“Wasn’t this the book Yato-sensei told us to buy?” Shirabu opened the textbook, skimming through its contents.

“Its ¥2,000” Kawanishi taps the price tag of the same book he’s holding. Shirabu pinches his lips together, closing the book and putting it back to where it belonged.

“Nope, I’ll just borrow from the library”

They move to the end of the aisle to see you holding a basket filled with different kinds of stationeries, Reon and Ushijima also going through the pens and notebooks they had on display before dropping it inside the basket you were holding.

“That’s a lot of pens (Y/n)” Goshiki drops a couple packs of sticky notes in your basket before grabbing a pen and examining it. The little penguin at the top sparking his curiosity as he clicks it, the ball-point emerging from the bottom part of the object.

“My pen’s keeps on disappearing, along with my highlighters and I don’t know who’s taking them” Goshiki stayed quiet at your reply, blinking at you, once, then twice before he slowly returned it in the basket. Reon let out a quiet laugh, fully aware that it was Goshiki who keeps taking your school supplies and not returning them.

Goshiki grabs three more pens and two more highlighters, the exact number of stationeries he took then dropping it in the basket. “I’ll buy these for you (Y/n)-chan”

You smiled at him in gratitude, standing in line at the cashier. “Thank you ‘Tomu-kun”

After paying for the items, you were once again back to the cold street. Aimlessly walking towards your next destination.

“Let’s go to a karaoke bar” Yamagata suggested, zipping up his jacket as the cold had become a little too much for him. Letting out a shiver from the cold air.

“Sure” they located the nearest karaoke bar, entering the establishment. They paid for the amount required for a one-hour session, before entering an empty room. Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata going for the songbook and choosing what song they’re going to sing, while you, Goshiki, and Ushijima went through the menu instead.

“So who’s first?” Tendou’s hand shot up as Yamagata gave him the mic, pressing his song’s code as the title flash on the screen.

“You’re singing Lion King?” Semi laughs watching as Tendou dance around to the song’s opening beat.

“The song has been stuck in my head for a long time now” the redhead cleared his throat before he started singing the first verse.

“There’s a Japanese version of that song?” Kawanishi whispered in surprise, Tendou’s jolly voice and merry demeanor fitting so well with I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’s upbeat tune. It was as if the song was made for him.

10:15pm.

There were only 15 minutes left before the one hour expires, Shirabu was singing some sort of heartbreak song, while sitting on top of Kawanishi who was laying sideways munching on some chips. Totally unbothered by the weight on top of him.

The setter ends his song, a cue for everyone to start packing their stuff and go back to the hotel before Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei catches them still walking around after curfew.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

It’s been three hours since you went to bed and unfortunately not once were you able to get a wink of sleep, nightmares were plaguing your mind. Two people, you’ve never met before constantly visits you in your dreams. It was a man and a woman, you couldn’t see their face but their voices you could hear.

They sometimes try to talk to you, asking how you were doing, if you were alright, or simply saying words of encouragement whenever you were feeling down. Sometimes they were accompanied by another girl, a teenager, who looks like the 15-year-old version of your aunt.

Once again, you turned on your side, pulling your blanket a little closer, screwing your eyes shut. However, it wouldn’t work, so you sat up, and check your phone.

1:30 am.

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not you should bother one of your teammates. They had a game tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb their sleep, but you were getting restless, and you’re afraid that you might not be able to fall asleep at all.

Finally making up your mind, you got up from your bed, grabbing your phone, key card, before exiting your room. Walking down the hallway towards Goshiki’s room, you have a feeling he’s still awake since he likes to play games until the wee hours of the night.

Standing on his door, you knock twice, pulling at the bottom of your shirt as you look left and right. The empty hallway looking a little too creepy for your liking, you knock again and this time it finally opened, a half-asleep Goshiki greeting you.

“(Y/n)?” he rub his eyes as he opened the door wider, letting you inside. “Did you have nightmares again?”

You nodded your head. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure” you followed him to his bed as he took the other side and you on the other. Both of you laying under the covers facing each other. “Better now?”

“Yes, thank you” he gave you one last sleepy smile before closing his eyes. So far, Goshiki was the only one who knows of your nightmares, after he discovered you one time during your first training camp crying under a table.

He was the one who comforted you and offered to let you sleep with him, it somehow became a routine and whenever you would knock on his door, he immediately knows what’s wrong.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The door to Goshiki’s room burst open as a group of panicked Shiratorizawa upperclassmen barge into the room. Goshiki having heard of his door nearly tearing off its hinges, sat upon his bed. “Senpai?”

Semi marches over to him, grabbing his shoulders and basically shaking him awake. “(Y/n)’s gone, she’s not in her room. We can’t find her anywhere”

“What?”

“Oh man, oh man. If the coach finds out we’re screwed” Yamagata and Tendou grips their hair in frustration, as Reon and Ushijima discuss the possibilities of your disappearance. Kawanishi and Shirabu though were the only ones calm in this situation. 

“Huh?” Goshiki’s brain still wasn’t working though as he still sat there in a daze, unaware of the growing problem his upperclassmen were having.

Kawanishi ruffles his hair as he looks around the room, shifting from one foot to another, before his eyes landed on a lump he failed to notice before that was beside the first year. He taps Shirabu on the shoulder then pointing at the said lump, who was starting to move, leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bed before falling off and landing on the floor with a thud. Bringing the blanket along with them.

“What?” they watch as you continued to snore away on the floor, the fall clearly didn’t affect you in the slightest.

Shirabu shots Goshiki a look of suspicion as the rest shakes you awake. “Why is (Y/n) sleeping with you?”

He didn’t really get any answer because Goshiki just looks at him, still half-asleep.

A scandalized gasp left Tendou’s lips as he points a shaky finger towards the spiker. “Did you and (Y/n) do something? You’re only first years, wait until you’re in college!”

“Satori, what are you talking about?”

“Tendou, I think you took this the wrong way” Ushijima’s hand landed on Tendou’s shoulder, as the redhead whips his head to the captain.

“But Wakatoshi-kun you can’t be too sure!”

“(Y/n) probably got scared and went to Tsutomu for help” Reon started pushing them all out of the room. Semi carrying you, still wrap in Goshiki’s blanket, leaving the first year still sitting on his bed. Once his door clicks shut, he fell back on his bed and went back to sleep.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Let’s have a good game!”

You carefully arrange the water bottles and towels on the bench as your team and the college team had their match. Diligently doing your duties as a manager.

“Hello” you look up to see your opponents’ manager standing there, giving you an easy smile, stretching out her hand for you to take. “My name is Mikana Ritsu, nice you meet you”

“(L/n) (Y/n), nice to meet you too Mikana-san” you answered, grasping her hand and giving it a firm shake.

She took a seat on the spare bench, with you taking the place beside her. “I didn’t know they had a manager, are you new?”

“Yes, I’m a first year. I started just a few months ago”

She let out a hum in response as the both of you observe the game in silence, leaving your spot once in a while to assist your respective players before sitting back down again and watching the game. From beside you, Mikana lets out a long yawn as she covers her mouth with the clipboard she’s holding.

“Are you tired Mikana-san?”

She nodded, another yawn leaving her lips. “I had to stay up very late last night for my research paper” she chuckled. “Sleep is very hard to come by when you’re in college”

You turn to look at the older girl, a question forming in your mind due to your curious nature. “Mikana-san, how is college like?”

She taps her chin for a moment, looking up at the ceiling to figure out the best answer for your question. “It’s an emotional roller coaster you know? One moment you’re smiling, then the next you’re crying your eyes out”

She turns her body to look at you. “I remember during my first year that my history teacher vowed to fail all of us because the school has enough students already”

You look at her incredulously, surprised at what she said.

“She made her exams and quizzes very difficult, and her projects were also very ridiculous” she huffs in annoyance, bad memories resurfacing. “We didn’t understand at first why she was doing it, but eventually we found out that she was having problems with her dissertation and she’s taking out all her frustrations on us”

You stared at her wide-eyed, your mouth open agape. The fuck? “We all passed though, so suck for her”

“That was just mean”

“I know right?” she lets out a sigh, before standing up from her seat and re-wrapping their setter’s fingers with tape. Tying it to his preferred tightness before she went back to her spot and him going back into court. “Then we have our thesis”

“Oh yeah, I sometimes see students having breakdowns because of it. Is it really that bad?”

“The process of doing it is very hard, because not only do you have to choose your own topic, you have to choose a very specific one and one that has a lot of references available” you nodded your head, listening to her every word. “Getting rejected is fairly common, so you have to go through the process again and then present it to your panelist”

“When you do your defense, is it scary?”

She laugh at your choices of words, but she can’t really deny it though, because she did felt scared whenever they had a defense. “It’s nerve-wracking honestly, you have to prepare an answer for every possible question or else they’ll reject your paper”

“And you have to repeat all over again” she nods. “That’s so tiring”

“It is, but we have to comply or else we’ll never graduate”

“True”

You both talk throughout the game, until the final whistle was blown and the match finally ended, your team winning the match.

“Shiratorizawa High is still as strong as ever I see” she mused, watching as both teams gave each other a bow. “Congratulations (L/n)-chan”

“Thank you Mikana-san”

You both went on your separate ways, tending to your own players. Giving them their towels, and water bottles along with their snacks. After your final goodbye, you all entered the bus, driving back towards your hotel. It was still early, 3:00 pm in Tokyo is still very lively compared to in Sendai. Most people prefer to stay indoors due to the intense heat, however, a bustling city will always be busy no matter what time of the day.

“We’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so if any of you have anything buy. Souvenirs and other things, you can do so right now. But as always, bring a buddy with you and be back by 11” Coach Saito reminded one last time, before he and Washijou-sensei went inside the hotel, probably to rest and get some sleep before they go out again.

“I actually have some things to buy at the mall” Semi started adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“Me too” Yamagata said, rummaging through his bag to find his phone, he almost started panicking when he didn’t saw it, but immediately let out a relieved sigh when he saw the device hiding under his sweaty shirt.

“We saw some souvenir shops a few blocks away from here, we’ll be over there”

Once everything was settled and everyone had decided where they want to go. You all separated, Semi, Reon, Ushijima, Yamagata, and Shirabu going to the mall to buy the things they needed while you, Tendou, Kawanishi, and Goshiki decided to walk around instead.

Going through the various shops that were selling different types of souvenirs from shirts to mugs, to keychains and other kinds of stuff.

“(Y/n)-chan, do you have my phone with you?” Goshiki patted his pockets as he looks for the said device.

“It’s in my bag” to patted the backpack you were carrying, adjusting it on your shoulder before letting out a groan at how heavy it is. “Kawanishi-san can we exchange bags? This one’s very heavy”

He nodded his head, pulling the strap over his head as you exchange bags, you let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the strain on your shoulders are now gone. The smell of freshly cook taiyakis catching your attention as the four of you speedwalk towards the stall making it, the food still hot and fresh.

“Ah, hot, hot, hot” Tendou rapidly let out a breath of air to cool down the burning of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Not expecting for it to be too hot.

You gently blew on your taiyaki, waiting for it to cool down, before you started taking small bites. As your group resume walking along the streets, you spotted a shop filled with trinkets, calling for their attention you all entered the store.

They had a wide range of displays, and although some were a bit expensive, it wasn’t stopping you from buying what you want. The allowance your Aunt gives you every week could literally last you a month, and so any extra money you had, you deposit it in your bank account and wait for the time when you have to use it.

Walking over to Kawanishi, you took your wallet from your bag before you walk off to where they had plushies on display, that dolphin plushy the only thing on your mind right now. Taking the dolphin from its spot on the shelf, you examined it, before looking at a similar one but this time it was a bit bigger. Not too much, so you were contemplating which one to buy.

“The big one looks very comfy though” Goshiki appears beside you, holding a scarf, a cap, and a sweater. “You can snuggle it to sleep”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a little too big?”

He observes the two carefully taking in their size, but still, he preferred the bigger one, so you followed his suggestion.

“Oh! Why not take this one too?” he grabs a tomato plushie of the same size. “Tomato-chan~”

You flick him on the forehead. “I can’t believe you’re sticking with that nickname”

“It’s funny though” he grinned at you.

“Tsutomu, (Y/n) let’s go” the both of you didn’t hear Tendou called you out, as the two of you stayed there. Goshiki insisting that he buys the tomato plushie for you, while you immediately denying his offer because it was already too much. It cost about a thousand yen, and he still has the items he’s holding. Not only that, you still remembered how he bought you those pens and highlighters last night.

The bell hanging at the top of the door rang as the two middle blockers left the shop, unknowingly leaving the two of you behind.

They cross the street, turning a few more corners. Before they were back to the same book store everyone went to last night. Tendou wanting to buy a few more mangas, then Kawanishi forgot he needs to buy a new calculator because he broke his old one. He could just buy one in Sendai, but why wait when he could just do it now?

“(Y/n) can you get my wallet? It’s in the-“ Kawanishi turns around, but no signs of the two first years. He looks from left to right, thinking that maybe they’re just around the corner, but alas, there were no Goshiki, and (Y/n).

“Uh… Tendou-san” Kawanishi tugs on the red head’s jacket as Tendou turns around.

“Hmm, what is it Taichi?”

“(Y/n) and Tsutomu are gone”

Tendou’s eyebrows furrowed as he looks behind the second year, thinking that maybe he was just pulling a prank on him, but still, like before, no first years in sight.

“Oh dear”

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“I can’t believe you actually bought the tomato plushie” you stared at the red-colored plush inside the bag you were holding. Both of you exiting the shop.

“Told you I’d buy it” he looks proud though, you don’t know why, but you’re very grateful for the gift. You note to yourself to get him something in return in the future. “Are Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san still inside?”

“Maybe” he went back inside the shop, as you waited outside the door. When he went back out, he looks worried, which also made you worried.

“Something wrong?”

“They’re not inside”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He rub his arms, as he went back inside again to check. But still, they weren’t there anymore, walking back out, he shook his head.

“Did they just left us?”

“Probably”

“Should we go find them?” you started fidgeting on your spot, before you remembered, you had Kawanishi’s bag with you. Opening his bag you located his phone only to be left disappointed when you find out it’s dead. “Great, now we can’t contact them”

“Should we go back to the hotel instead?”

“I don’t even know which way our hotel is”

Both of you shared a heavy exhale, retracing your steps to where you both felt your hotel was located. However, you both accidentally took a wrong turn and were now in a different part of the city.

“I knew leaving that place was a bad idea”

“Oh. Aren’t you two from Shiratorizawa?” you saw two persons walking over your direction, wearing a light green and yellow track jacket and track pants.

“Yes” you answered, the one who was currently talking looks nice, you don’t know about his companion though. Even with half of his face covered with a mask, you could still feel the intensity of his stare.

“Ah. I’m Komori Motoya, and this is Sakusa Kiyoomi” he pointed to his friend. “We’re from Itachiyama, we went against your school before”

Itachiyama, the school is familiar, but these two? Not very much. However, they seem nice.

“Are the others with you?” Komori looks around the vicinity. “I don’t see them”

“Uh…”

“You got lost didn’t you?” it was Sakusa who asks this time and Komori let out a laugh.

“We can’t contact them because this phone is dead-” you showed them Kawanishi’s phone. “-and it’s also the only one we have right now”

Komori turns to look at Sakusa. “You have Ushijima’s number right? Why don’t you give him a call, they might be worried right now”

Wordlessly, Sakusa fished his phone from his pocket and dialed your captain’s number, pressing the loudspeaker button. It rang a few times before Ushijima finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“We found your stray” Sakusa answered before putting the phone in front.

“Ushijima-san!”

”(Y/n)? Goshiki? Where are you two?”

You both look at the two, but Komori answered for you. “We’re in front of the Kamakura coffee shop, where are you?”

“In front of the Marimo bookstore [1]”

“Alright stay there, we’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Alright”

The call ended and the four of you made your way towards the bookstore, Komori was the only talkative one between the two, instantly befriending the both of you. Although Sakusa would sometimes participate in the conversation, majority of it, he prefers to listen.

“So, what are you doing here in Tokyo?” Komori questioned.

“We had a practice match with a college team today” Goshiki answered, holding your hand to avoid getting separated from the group, his initial fear from when he discovered you two got left behind still present.

“Are teams in Miyagi too weak to handle Shiratorizawa?” Sakusa’s eyes momentarily shift in your direction before focusing forward.

“I guess so” you shrug your shoulders, you were told no high schools in Miyagi wants to have a joint practice with your school anymore, and you don’t really know the reason behind it. So you can’t really say they’re all weak.

Thankfully ten minutes later, you arrive at Marimo Bookstore to see your seniors waiting in front of the building in worry.

“(Y/n), Tsutomu. There you are!” Tendou was about to give you two a big hug, but Semi beat him to it by bonking the two of you on the head.

“You idiots! What did I say about wandering around?!”

“We weren’t wandering around! We were just inside the shop when Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san left us!” you replied with a pout, rubbing your head as Semi shot the two a glare as they both look away. Kawanishi casually whistling a tune whilst Tendou rocks himself back and forth on the soles of his feet.

“Well, we’ve delivered the package. We have to go now, see you guys next time” Komori wave your group goodbye as Reon and Semi said their thanks.

Sakusa gave Ushijima a nod before turning around. “See you at nationals Wakatoshi”

“Of course”

They both left, their tall figures disappearing into the crowd, as your group went back to your hotel. Upon arriving at your lodging, you stumbled along with Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei near the entrance, the two older men inquiring of your shopping spree. Everyone answered the question as honestly as they could, leaving out the details of yours and Goshiki’s little accident.

Satisfied, they both left while your group went back to your own room to enjoy the rest of your stay, and to avoid any more mishaps.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] anyone here who also watches sekai-ichi hatsukoi?

a/n: the idea from the college convo between Mikana and reader was inspired from a conversation I had with a mutual hehehe, though not word per word but just the overall gist of it. Dear, if you’re reading this you know who you are. ;)

also, my team stories aren’t suppose to contain any romance, yet here I am lowkey shipping Goshiki and reader.

[fromstraykids]

trust | school series 9

characters: you x minhyun

summary: awkward moments with a quiet Minhyun

quote: “what are we?”

warning(s): mentions of alcohol

school series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 

9:30 am – cafeteria

Hwang Minhyun was not the type to smile a lot. At least, not around you. You weren’t sure how you even became friends with the quiet boy. If it weren’t for your friends, you weren’t sure if you would even be near him. He sat across from you at the cafeteria table as you studied for your calculus exam tomorrow.

“Eat.” A plate of food replaces your book as you look up and see Jonghyun’s smiling face. He takes a seat next to you as your other friends shuffle in, finished from their morning classes. You thank him quietly, moving your book off the table.

“So,” your friend begins, “Spring break is next month, where should we plan our trip?”

“Oh!” Daniel speaks up. “We should go to Paju.”

“We went there for winter break, already.” your other friend complains.

“What about Jeju?” you ask. 

“Jeju does have nice beaches,” Jonghyun states.

“And their meat tastes amazing, or so what I’ve heard,” your other friend speaks up. 

“Jeju, it is then.” The whole time, you noticed Minhyun kept quiet and you nudged your foot against his, making him look up.

“Do you agree with where we’re going?” you ask. He gives you a nonchalant look.

“Sure.” And that was the end of your conversation with Minhyun.

7:00 am – beginning of spring break

Your whole morning consisted of you dragging yourself out of bed to get ready and head to the airport. You waited outside your dorm and got a text after a couple of minutes.

woke up late! minhyun will drive you to the airport instead! – jonghyun

As you finished reading the text, a white mid-sized car pulls up on the curb and the window slides down. It was Minhyun. He gets out of the car and takes your luggage from your hand, placing it neatly next to his navy blue suitcase. He was dressed as if he had a runway to walk right after he picked you up, opposed to your sweatpants and hoodie combination. 

“I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, so I got you an iced tea instead, is that alright?” Minhyun asks when you get into the car. That’s when you notice the cup of melting iced tea in the cup holder. 

“Yeah, I’m probably going to be sleeping on the plane, so coffee is probably what I don’t need,” you reply, taking a sip of the sweet tea. The ride to the airport was silent before Minhyun switched on the radio. 

“They’re probably going to get here later, so let’s just check in first and we could meet them at the gate,” Minhyun says as he takes the suitcases out of the trunk. You sling your backpack onto your back as you enter the airport and find your airline. Minhyun follows behind you as you stand in line. He tells you to go first when you reach the kiosk.

“I just got a text from Daniel and he said that they’re running late because Jaehwan didn’t wake up early enough, so I guess we’ll go through security first,” Minhyun explains, putting his phone in his back pocket. Your tickets print out and you checked the seating. He was seated at 12A while you sat at 12B. What a coincidence. 

When you two finally get through security, he offers to buy you a drink since the all the airplane gives is a small cup. There was plenty of time to wait since your flight was at 9:30 and it was only 8:00. Before you knew it, Minhyun came back with a cup of green tea latte and a cup of iced americano, along with two cinnamon muffins. 

“Just in case we get hungry,” Minhyun explains as he hands you the green tea latte. Soon, your friends arrive one by one as you wait for the plane to arrive.

Finally, your flight is called and you all began to board. Unfortunately, there was a lot of people on your flight, which resulted in you waiting in a long line. However, you did finally reach your seat, but you weren’t tall enough to place your suitcase in the overhead bin.

“I got it,” a voice says, taking your luggage and placing it next to his navy blue one. Minhyun takes his window seat and you sit in the seat next to him. Luckily, all six of you managed to all sat in the 17th row. When the plane begins to fly, you take out your earbuds and try to sleep in the one hour of flying.

Halfway through the flight, you unknowingly leaned your head on Minhyun’s shoulder, making the boy stiffen in shock as he tries his best to get you off his shoulder without waking you up. However, he fails and your head was on his shoulder for the rest of the flight.

“We’re here.” Someone taps your shoulder and you wake up, not knowing about what you did during the flight. You groggily stretched and checked your phone. It was only 10:00 am, but you felt like going to the hotel and sleeping for the rest of the day. Minhyun helps you take your suitcase from the overhead bin as you exit.

10:14 am – Jeju

As the six of you begin to feel less tired from the plane ride, you all start to get excited and started to plan your night activities.

“Night market,” your friend suggests.

“Clubbing!” Daniel suggests. 

“We should do that tomorrow night,” Minhyun says from the backseat. Daniel pouts in reply. 

“I say we go to the beach,” you suggest. The others agree as Jonghyun drives into the hotel. 

The hotel you guys stayed in was your regular beach resort, an ocean view seen from every window. You split into three rooms of two and you roomed with your friend. 

As night falls, you all head to the beach, feeling the sea breeze in your hair. As the boys dived into the ocean, you and your friends stayed back, walking along the shoreline. 

“y/n!” you hear a voice shout your name before a splash of water overcomes you. You felt yourself being pushed into the water as others join in, splashing each other. 

When the sun sets, all of you headed back to the hotel with wet clothes and sandy feet. And with that, your first day at Jeju was gone.

8:46 pm – club

Minhyun doesn’t drink. That was the first thing you noticed when Daniel began to pour the shots. Instead, Minhyun had a can of soda in the place of the soju.

“To spring break!” Daniel cheers, holding up his shot glass with you all following, except for Minhyun. 

You wouldn’t say you had a high alcohol tolerance, no, you started to be tipsy by the third glass. Your friends told you to stop before you could be full on drunk, but you opposed.

“One more glass,” you plead, already pouring the cheap soju into your shot glass and drinking it in one go. You feel yourself getting more energized as you headed to the dance floor, catching sight of Minhyun at the other side at of the club and you grabbed his wrist. He looks at you with confused eyes before you lean in, grabbing his cheeks as you kiss him. And that was the last thing you remembered from that night.

9:57 am – hotel room

The sun glares at you through the curtains, making you turn away. You open your eyes slightly and catch sight of your jacket on the floor of the room. You panicked, immediately checking if you had your clothes on — and thankfully, you did. But who’s room was this? It was definitely way too neat to call it yours.

“You’re finally awake.” A voice interrupts your internal conversation as your turn around, catching sight of Minhyun sitting on top of the desk. You groan quietly, wondering what in the world you did last night. “You know, alcohol isn’t very good for you,” he scolds. 

You were having a full on hangover and he was lecturing you about drinking too much alcohol? 

“Anyways, all of them are pretty hungover now, so I guess you have some time before they wake up. But,” you noticed the top few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, making you cringe again, “if you want, you can stay here until you feel better.”

He seemed pretty sober, probably because he didn’t drink last night. Oh man, that means he knew what you did last night. “We didn’t do anything last night, right?” you ask.

“If you don’t count the making out part or the part where you almost ripped off the buttons on my shirt, then no, we didn’t do anything. At least not anything you might regret,” he explains. He hops off the desk and grabs a pile of room keys. “I made you some tea that’s on top of the fridge and I asked the housekeeping for an extra bathrobe, so make sure to drink the tea and take a shower. I’ll be back after I check in the others.” He waves goodbye as you groan into your pillow. At least nothing bad happened, right?

12:00 pm — your hotel room

“You want me to what?” you ask again, making sure you were hearing right. You had already left Minhyun’s room and went back to yours after you began to feel better.

“Can you please switch with Daniel?” your friend pleads again.

“I heard that part but who’s he rooming with again?”

“Minhyun.” You sigh, why must life be so complicated? You wonder if Minhyun was going through the same thing.

The next thing you knew you were dragging your luggage into the room two doors down, lightly tapping the door. Minhyun opens the door, letting you in. The room was the same as it was this morning, neat and clean. That was a thing you noticed about Minhyun, he was probably the most organized and clean person you have known.

“So I guess we’re sharing a bed together now,” he says awkwardly, avoiding your eyes.

“I guess so.” It was only four more days before the trip ended and you hoped things wouldn’t become even more awkward.

9:02 pm – night

Night falls sooner than you expected and after you all went to the beach to watch the sunset again, and you were begging to get some sleep. After taking your shower, you immediately crawled into bed, shutting your eyes. You heard the bathroom door being quietly shut before the lights were turned off, feeling a dip in the bed as Minhyun takes the other side. Soon, soft snores erupted from him and you couldn’t help but turn around. He slept so peacefully and you wondered how he could fall asleep so fast. Soon, you felt your eyes drooping as you drifted into sleep.

When you awoke, you felt a hand on your waist and caught sight of Minhyun’s still sleeping face. Unable to bring yourself to wake him up, you pretended to sleep until you felt his arm quickly leaving your waist, leaving you feeling empty. He sighs deeply before turning around and facing the other direction. You took this as the cue to wake up.

“You’re awake already?” you ask, faking a yawn. He nods, a blush unable to leave his face. A lock of hair falls into his eyes and before he could react, you slightly push the strands of hair away, fingers lightly grazing his soft forehead. He blushes again as he gets up from the bed, saying something about having to take a shower.

10:56 pm

The next night, you managed to make a conversation with him. He told you about his fears and aspirations, and soon, you felt your eyes closing. You didn’t mean to, you just had a really tiring day walking around and his voice just lulls you to sleep. He noticed your closed eyes and reached to turn off the lamp. He wondered if you could hear the sound of his heart beating as he, too, drifts off into a deep slumber.

When you wake up, you were inches from his face and admired his features up close. Once again, his arm was slung over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You decided to visit the beach again that night, walking along the shore as waves washed up on your feet. The others were doing their own thing — clubbing, drinking, going to parks, or eating at a nearby restaurant, but you wanted to visit the beach again since it was just so beautiful. When will you ever visit this place again? You take a seat close to the shore, pulling your knees to your body as you watch the dipping sun. You felt another person next to you and saw that it was Minhyun.

“I guess we both liked the beach,” he says as he watched the sunset.

“It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?” You turn towards him. Your lips curve into a smile as he fixes his eyes on your lips, leaning closer. 

“But not as beautiful as you.” You met him halfway as he caresses your cheek, softly kissing you until you both have to gasp for air. The short moment left your light headed as he smiles at you and this time you initiated the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist as the sun slowly leaves the beach.

8:49 am

“Good morning,” he chirps when you open your eyes. His lips curve into a bright smile as he pulls you closer and pecks your lips softly. You pull away as you get up from the bed.

“It’s our last day already,” you pout as he slowly pulls you back into the bed, ruffling your hair.

“Our spring break might have ended, but our relationship has more days to come.” You smile as he kisses your forehead.

7:06 pm – a week after spring break ends

You wanted to hope that you’d be with Minhyun more after the trip. But he would always be saying that he was busy and was never in his dorm.

Jaehwan texts you, notifying you that Minhyun was his room tonight as you get into the elevator and pressed the floor above you. You knock on the door lightly and enter.

“We need to talk.” Jaehwan takes this as a sign to leaves and exits the room with his guitar.

“Hey, y/n. What do you want to talk about?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the textbook in front of him.

“Us.”

“What about us?”

“‘What about us?’ Did you forget what happened in Jeju?” He stays quiet. “We kissed. But that wasn’t all. You said that we were in a relationship but after we came back, you’ve been with your textbook more than you’ve been with me.”

Minhyun closes his textbook. “y/n–”

“So what are we? Were we just a spring break fling? Did you actually mean it when you said that you wanted to be in a relationship with me? Just tell me so that I won’t be spending my night wondering if we’re dating or not.”

“We weren’t just a fling, I promise. I meant everything I said, y/n, trust me.”

“Make me trust you. Because I don’t believe a word you’re saying.” He stands up, taking bold steps at you as you back up until your back is on the door.

He rests his arm over your head, leaning down closely. “I know I haven’t been communicative as much as I should, trust me. I know. But I’m not lying when I say that I am in love with you. Even before Jeju. Please trust me.” You snake your arms around his waist as you pull him into a hug, him kissing the crown of your head softly.

“I trust you.”

9:45 am – a few months later

“Eat.” A plate of food enters your line of sight as you put down the notebook you were studying from. Minhyun gestures to the plate as he takes a seat across from you. “So how’s your day going?”

You take a bite of food as your answer. “Great, my literature professor just bumped by 89% to an A, so that’s the highlight of my day.” You notice Minhyun leaning on his palm as he stared at you with a smile on his face.

“What? Is there any food on my face?” You hand reaches up to feel your face before he shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just admiring your beauty because you’re so pretty,” he remarks. You blush at his compliment. 

Dating Minhyun was going to be great.

[thehikingviking]

Qionglong Shan, The Tallest Mountain in Suzhou

Suzhou is the second largest city in the Jiangsu Province, about 100km west of Shanghai. My company was doing module shielding and testing at a third party in Suzhou, and my customer’s SQE wanted to audit our process. The audit was scheduled for Thursday and Friday, so I booked a direct flight from San Jose to Pudong via Air China. I was concerned at first about flying Air China, but my experience was great. The plane was practically empty so even in economy class I was able to put up the arm rests and lay down during the entire flight. After landing, I met my driver at the terminal and rode for 3 more hours until reaching the Shangri-La Hotel in downtown Suzhou. While we planned for two days, the audit ended on the first day and just like that I had a whole free day in Suzhou by myself.

I tried to research some local attractions, but nothing really caught my interest. I then researched local hikes and found a few websites referencing Qionglong Shan, which is the tallest mountain in Suzhou. Like most websites about mainland China, there was very little information in English, so I used the topographic map of Google Maps, which never properly loaded because Google is banned in China. After a nice workout and swim, I took a taxi from my hotel to the Qionglong Mountain Northeast Gate.

I soon learned that the mountain wasn’t the main attraction. It turns out there is a 2,000 year old Daoist temple complex throughout the hillsides. Entering the park was more expensive than expected, but I was just relieved to get in smoothly even with the language barrier. There weren’t any clear maps, so I just headed uphill.

Since I had no clear indication of the route to the summit, I planned on hiking until I could find a vantage point. Eventually I ended up at some very old building.

I climbed a set of stairs on the side of the building and continued along the path behind the building until I reached another building.

Behind this building was an ancient city. I believe this attraction is called Ningbang Temple. I spent some time exploring the area. It reminded me of the video game Tomb Raider 2 which had a level in China. 

According to my blurry Google Maps, I was still about a half mile from the summit, so I spent some time looking for a trail which would take me in the northwest direction. I couldn’t find anything directly from the city, but I did find a stone path behind a wall that headed in the direction of the summit.

The path continued along the ridgeline and eventually led to more ancient buildings.

I was able to enter many of the buildings along the way.

I kept following the ridgeline until I reached a saddle. From here there was a small parking lot and a road which appeared to lead towards the top. I can’t read Chinese, but there were several signs including one with a walking stick figure with a line through it. It was my guess these were no trespassing signs, but I had no way of knowing for sure. Rather than walking up the exposed road, I found a trail heading through the forest across the pavement. I followed this along the southeastern face of the mountain. I needed to start climbing, but the trail was mostly flat and even headed slightly downhill. Eventually I crossed what appeared to be a seasonal creek bed, which I figured would be a good location to start climbing upwards.

This clearly wasn’t an established route, but it took me in the right direction. The rocks were loose and the section was steep, but after a few hundred feet, I was standing just below the summit. The only problem was the remaining 50 feet or so was covered in thick rosebushes. I was able to find a class 3 route that avoided some of the brush, but I could not avoid all of it. Not only would the thorns cut my skin, but they would also catch my clothes, slowing my progress. After some sweat and tears, I finally made it to the summit complex. I peered around the giant ball on the summit plateau and there were about 5 individuals in uniforms standing in a circle. Was I unknowingly on a military base? Eventually the group headed inside the building, and when they were out of sight I headed out into the open.

I came around the corner and I froze. There were two goats and a dog staring at me. I prayed the dog wouldn’t bark, and luckily he decided to mind his own business.

I peered down the road and I could see someone’s head walking back and forth in the distance. Once he was out of sight, I jogged over to the rock across the street, which was clearly the Qionglong Shan high point. 

I hid behind the rock, and after confirming the coast was clear, I jumped on top and took a couple selfies.

Back across the road was the giant ball I was just hiding behind.

With the pollution, the views were limited, but still surprisingly clear for China. To the south and west was Taihu Lake.

To the east was Suzhou.

I spent about 10 seconds sitting on the rock, then quickly headed back down to the rosebush. I tried to find another way through the rosebush, but this time I had to contend with more thorns. It was sad to see all the trash which the locals throw off the side of the mountain. There is no respect for the environment here. I carefully walked down the rocky wash and reconnected with the trail. Once back at the parking lot, I found hiking path 2, which I followed down back in the direction of the parking lot.

After a nice walk, I reached a road which I followed back to the main parking lot. I waited for a taxi, but after an hour not one came. I tried using Uber, but could not connect to the app. I then tried downloading Didi, but could not use this app since I didn’t have a Chinese phone number. I was clearly too far away to walk back. I noticed a bus would stop by every 20 minutes or so, so with no other option, I jumped on. Upon entering the bus, I threw three yuan into the coin catch. The bus driver looked at me like I was crazy, and signaled the number two with his finger. I apparently spent 15 cents too much. I sat down and prayed the bus would head towards the city and not to the countryside. I watched the cast of characters that would hop on and off the bus at every stop. These people were so poor and they lived within a 30 minutes drive of a major city. I can’t imagine what the more rural parts of China are like. I needed to head northeast and the bus was heading due east. At least it was partially in the right direction. When we entered the southern part of Suzhou, the bus then turned north. This was very promising. After several more stops, the bus then turned east again. It was as if god himself was driving the bus. I got within a half mile of my hotel and walked the remaining way back, stopping at KFC along the way. I made it back to Shanghai that night, and left for Japan the following morning. 

[jaqbelle-blog]

Moalboal Shenanigan

Another weekend had come. Ergo, no alarms, no fixed schedule or routine pattern, only the looming burden of Monday’s assessment exam. I got up from bed late in the morning and then took my time in the shower. Lazing around usually eats up majority of the day, but on that particular Saturday, I actually wanted to handle my academic duties asap rather than get by with the usual cram session every Sunday night. Maybe because I was already familiar with most of the concepts that would be included in the exam’s coverage. It finally wasn’t an overwhelming bulk of topics to absorb. So just when I was feeling that unexpected rush of motivation, there came a very slight change of plan – Moalboal.

Before I could even prepare my reading materials, Marielle had unknowingly schemed our weekend’s itinerary already. I always put my phone on silent mode (important class rule) so I wasn't able to immediately respond to her calls and chain of urgent messages. As it had turned out, a beach get-away to the far south of Cebu was what she and Lee had in mind, and I, deprived far too long of the sea and some cheap thrills, decided to cancel all responsibilities and come along. For the record, the three of us plead guilty of having misplaced priorities.

We allotted a few hours to prepare and buy the necessities for the trip. I did the groceries while they borrowed a tent and camera, and also made room reservation. By four p.m., we finally hopped into the bus bound for Bato via Barili. Bus fare costs 130 php/person. A little piece of advice: present a valid school I.D. to avail discount. In instances wherein the conductor hands you a bus ticket without discount even if you’ve already showed your I.D., then request for a new one. If s/he refuses to change your ticket (like from our experience), then only pay the exact markdown amount. Fight for that discount, kids.

Anyway, the bus drive from the city to Moalboal had taken a little more than four hours, with Cebu’s heavy weekend traffic severely congesting the streets. The moment we stepped out of the bus, tricycle drivers immediately flocked around us, most of them rowdy and persistent, demanding that we take their service. It took us a couple of minutes to haggle a price of 100 php for a fare going to our hostel. Quite pricey since we were the only passengers and it was already starting to get late at night. Regular fare typically costs 10 php/person. We were actually quite surprised and amazed with the loading capacity of the tricycle. It can probably accommodate six passengers max.

Our trip had been transitioning smoothly so far, right until we got to the hostel. The manager, at the last minute, had cancelled our reservation without notifying us, and worse, their place was already fully booked for the night.  Luckily, nearby accommodations were available and we were able to find a better one shortly after the inconvenience.

We had availed their cheapest room offer, dormitory type, which cost us 800 php/night.  We shared the room with three other guests who, like us, were backpackers as well. After settling in, we ate our dinner in the hostel’s modest yet homely dining area, drank beer and chatted with the locals. They suggested that, to avoid any hassle, we rent a motorbike for the next day’s mode of transportation. So we did, at a price of 300 php. It already came with a half tank of gasoline. Sweet deal if you ask me.

We were particularly fond of the inn’s receptionist, Ate Jopay. She had been very accommodating to all of the guests. She, together with the inn’s cook (whose name I unfortunately forgot to ask) even accompanied us to a rather secluded bar situated near the beach. Nightlife at the beach reminded me of a livelier version of Alona, Panglao, with its relatively wider stretch of small, local restobars, spa and massage center, plus a disco hub. Ate Jopay was already a well-known public figure in there. Everybody seems to know her, even the foreigners.  When we arrived at the bar, we had another round of beer and some chips. A live band was playing different genres of music, from Jessie J’s “Price Tag” to Eagle’s “Hotel California.”  It was quite ideal for a chill Saturday night. It even had a stable wifi.

We’d set off to the white beach early the following morning. Since it was a few kilometers away from the inn, we had to rely on Google maps and some locals to navigate us to the right direction.  When we got there, we still had to pay an entrance fee of 10 php/person (barangay ordinance). The beach was lined with cottages for rent and some karenderyas. Those who were on a tight budget had set up their tents, forming a zigzag line along the coastline. We, too, assembled our tent and then bought breakfast before swimming.

The sky was fortunately covered in thick clouds, obscuring the sun, but Marielle and I still lathered sunscreen on all exposed areas of our skin, especially the face. Lee, on the other hand, had no time for that skincare ritual (he suffered sunburn as an aftermath).  Some of the beach goers were already drinking booze as early as nine in the morning. Parents and guardians kept a close watch on their kids, making sure they stay close to the shore. Some tried to mold different sand figures, only to be swept away by the waves crashing back to the shore. The tide was pretty high. Just a few meters towards the sea and I was already neck deep in the cool water. We’d occasionally gulp in a mouthful of it due to talking and laughing amidst the engulfing waves. It was a really perfect day for a swim.

Here are some of the photos we took.

We headed back to the inn around eleven a.m., but before that, we got lost on our way back. We had missed a turn that lead us to the town proper. We then again resort to asking the locals for directions and thankfully, we reached the inn without running out of gas.

By noontime, we checked out of the hostel and bid farewell to ate Jopay. We thanked the inn’s attendees for their hospitality and promised to come back. Next time, when our schedule and budget permits, we’d try the sardine run and island hopping. The inn’s cook jokingly added that I should have my own S.O. by then. We’ll see about that.

We first ate our lunch at a chicken restaurant near the mall and then waited for the next bus. Tired and fully satisfied with our trip, I spent most of the ride asleep.  I didn’t worry about the exam until I woke up with the crippling realization that I hadn’t started anything yet. But then, one final plot twist happened – our universities had announced suspension of classes! Our streak of good omen for the past couple of hours was extremely unbelievable. The rush of relief that news brought to us was just the best ending for our shenanigan. Hooray for a weekend well spent.