#I’m quite disappointed. it’s only day 2 and this is already happening?

[retrace-104]

I’m too lazy to retype this. lines undercut.

“when this battle is over, I…” comes after “yes… mankind has indeed grown strong.” I never screenshotted it because I didn’t realize it’d be missable already. sighs.

[holllandtrash]

fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information. 

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt. 

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try. 

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You. 

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was. 

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did. 

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better. 

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point. 

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues. 

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated. 

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word. 

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco. 

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend. 

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you. 

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you. 

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there. 

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you. 

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager. 

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever. 

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen. 

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers. 

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck. 

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about. 

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.” 

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could. 

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?” 

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained. 

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time. 

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.  

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time. 

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked. 

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes. 

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you. 

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking? 

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic. 

At least, you thought you didn’t. 

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair. 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.” 

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing. 

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.” 

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.” 

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while. 

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment. 

He wasn’t going to let it escape him. 

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you. 

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere. 

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend. 

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could. 

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips. 

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words. 

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth. 

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him. 

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications. 

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before. 

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain. 

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear. 

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat. 

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night. 

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team. 

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time. 

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful. 

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed. 

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too. 

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between. 

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride. 

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car. 

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you. 

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage. 

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you. 

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story. 

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday. 

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. 

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered. 

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out. 

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner. 

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point  and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts. 

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea. 

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel. 

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry. 

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on? 

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1. 

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different. 

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race. 

And somehow, you won. 

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe. 

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red. 

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you. 

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team. 

He was so proud of you. 

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else. 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching. 

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that. 

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining. 

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name. 

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love. 

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it. 

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love. 

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence. 

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions. 

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?” 

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face. 

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently. 

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation. 

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season. 

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it. 

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren. 

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel. 

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023. 

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early. 

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked. 

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders. 

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different. 

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break. 

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily. 

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours. 

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news. 

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. 

Your heart sank. 

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked. 

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?” 

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response. 

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done. 

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work. 

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life. 

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other. 

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you. 

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three. 

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career. 

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel. 

part 2 haunted

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Sorry it took so long. Almost finished, just one more chapter to go.

@a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog @yeaiamme2 @nataliewalker93 @luz09

Series Masterlist

Waking up alone was disappointing but Y/n didn’t expect anything else, knowing that if Klaus had stayed until morning he would have been shot God knows how many times.

2 Days. That’s all she needed to wait, just 2 more days and then she could get away from this house, the constant guards, a mom that ignores everything that goes wrong around her and her father. Her father who she had loved and adored more than anyone in the world, her father who had been her hero only to become the man who ignores her existence and shoots her pet.

Just 2 Days…

Klaus knew he needed to tell her the truth. Getting her to leave with him and depend on him needed to happen first, he knew once she loved him that she could accept anything about him.

He also knew that she would willingly turn for him, Y/n was exactly the kind of girl who would want to be with him for eternity, already overly sensitive about the idea of being abandoned. After her father had abandoned her without ever leaving the same house, what else could anyone expect?

He had been working in the time away from Y/n on his Hybrids, having to go back to Mystic Falls to find out Doppleganger blood was what he needed to turn the wolves. Sadly he didn’t get back to Y/n until the third day away and he was worried that she would be upset with him. However, the house was finished thanks to compelled construction workers and interior designers working around the clock, his Hybrids guarded the house as he instructed them to and he was finally able to pick her up.

Sadly though he was not quite as sneaky as he thought approaching the house this time and he ended up snapping one of the guards necks before climbing up to the window. Klaus saw her on her bed drifting off to a movie on the TV and he tapped the glass to see her head pop up and her eyes widen in excitement making her jump up and nearly fall from the bed as she fumbled to yank the window open.

‘You’re late!’ She snapped, though her smiling face pointed to her not being overly upset about it before she pulled him in and hugged him.

‘I’m so sorry Princess, there were complications finishing the house and I wanted it to be perfect. I’m sorry if I made you doubt me-‘

‘No! I didn’t, I promise! Thought…maybe my dad had…I-‘

‘Oh baby. I’m so sorry, come here!’ He hugged her to his chest tightly, kissing her head before the tears could fall. ‘Are you ready to go? I had a complication getting in here so we need to hurry.’ Her head popped up with a startled look before she jumped to grab the large duffel bag under her bed, pulling it out and setting it on the bed before moving to her dresser and grabbing sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. She changed fast as Klaus opened her bag to inspect it.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ll get you a new laptop, your father can use this to track you, can’t bring it with us.’

‘Oh shit!’ She moved to grab a flash drive from her drawer before plugging it into the laptop and saving several things before deleting a bunch of things. ‘He’ll look through everything like he always does and find my journal. Wish I could see the look on his face when he sees how I really feel about him…both of them.’ There was a smile on her face but Klaus wrapped his arms around her from behind, seeing how sad she really was about it.

‘You’ll never have to listen to anything he says again. You’ll be happy with me, I promise.’ He swore, picking up the bag and moving to the window, watching her pull the sim card from her phone before tossing it onto the bed and following him. Klaus took hold of her and lifted her into his arms before jumping out the window, smiling at her small gasp as he did, quickly moving through the trees to get to the car he had left and setting her into the passenger seat.

‘Where are we going?’ She asked, clearly excited and clutching his hand as he began to drive.

‘We’re going to the airport-‘

‘My father will be able to find us there, he’ll find out where we-‘

‘Impossible. I have a jet fueled up and waiting, only the pilot knows where we’re going. He will not be able to find us, I promise.’ Klaus assured, kissing her hand and holding it firmly, watching as she tried to relax though he knew she wouldn’t until they were on the jet, far away.

He left the rental car with someone at the front before leading her through security quickly, compelling a security guard to fast track them through to get to their flight. ‘It’s so weird not being surrounded by guards in a public place, I feel like I’ve been let out of a bubble for the first time since I can remember and it’s like I can breathe deeper…does that sound stupid?’

‘Of course not Love, you’ve been confined your entire life, it’s normal to feel free now that you’re away from it all.’ He enjoyed watching her look around with a smile on her sweet face.

‘What’s that smell? It’s…sweet. It smells so good!’ She exclaimed, looking around in excitement.

‘The cinnamon buns maybe?’ Klaus said, pointing to the shop. ‘Do you want one?’ She nodded quickly and he led her over to grab a few of them for the flight before taking her to the jet that was waiting on them.

‘Woah…this is bigger than my Dads…I didn’t think that existed.’ The hybrid couldn’t help his chuckle at the clear innuendo that went over her head as she looked around, Klaus buckling her in and making her blush at even the small gesture of care he showed her as the jet took off. He couldn’t help but smile as the tension in her body seemed to completely disappear as they ascended, finally free from her father and his control.

The fact that she was now completely under Klaus’ control was a detail he didn’t think needed mentioning…

Somewhere in the Woods in New York

‘Where Is She?!’ He raged, holding his best friend by the front of his jacket.

‘I don’t know Buck-she must have gone out the window-‘

‘I have guards everywhere! How did she get passed them, Huh?! What do you-‘

‘Hun, whatever Y/n has done isn’t Steve’s fault and you’re going to regret killing him. You love him.’ His wife reminded, gently removing his hands from Steve and pulling Bucky close, feeling all of his muscles tensing at the idea of his baby being missing.

‘Someone has taken her, who should I be killing?!’ He demanded only to be met with a stern look from the mother of his child.

‘I don’t know who you think you’re talking to like that but it isn’t me.’ He sighed, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck. ‘I know you’re worried, I’m worried too but this was inevitable. She did tell you she was going to leave-‘

‘She was being dramatic! She knows I love her, she wouldn’t…someone has taken her, only explanation!’ He insisted, beginning to pace across the floor, waiting for his men to check the security cameras.

Bucky is willing to admit that he isn’t the best father but he loves his daughter more than anything in the world. After all that has happened, all that he’s lost, he couldn’t risk losing her too. And maybe he held on too tight sometimes but he loved his baby more than he had ever loved anything. Every time he looks at her he sees that precious little bundle he was handed by a nurse, he was the first person to ever hold her and he swore to her that he would never let go.

‘Boss…you’re not gonna like this…’ Bucky looked up from where he sat with his wife holding onto him, the only thing keeping him grounded on this planet right now.

‘What is this? Where is this?!’ He demanded as he watched the video on the laptop that Sam handed to him.

‘It’s a camera from one of the back roads to the property. No one but security even knows they exist, we don’t know how anyone got there.’ Sam explained, standing just out of Buckys reach in case he decides to lash out.

‘What is he doing? Is…she’s kissing him…how does she even know him?! She’s always had security, who-‘ Bucky cut himself off as he thought back to Tony’s party the week before. He had seen this man before, he had smiled at him at the party, smirked more like it, and Bucky had wanted to slap that look off of his face…he should have killed him when he had the chance!

‘I’m not surprised.’ Buckys head snapped up to look at his wife who was clearly upset but no where near as physically upset as he was. ‘With how you treat her, smother her? An attractive man came along and promised her the world, of course she ran away with Prince Charming. Especially after what you pulled last week, I told you that dog thing would come back and bite us in the ass.’

‘Seriously?! How are you not upset-‘

‘I’m furious! But I’m also able to see how this came to happen and it is our fault. God knows what he’s promised her, but I’m not shocked she jumped at the first chance to get away from you-‘

‘She knows I love her-‘

‘No James, I don’t think she does.’ Buckys face fell as he heard his wife say this. Every fight they had, every punishment or mean word, he had always comforted himself by remembering that his daughter knows that he loves her and that he would kill or die for her. Now to hear that she might not truly believe that, Bucky swears that he heard his heart crack. ‘When she was young she did but you changed when she got older and I have no idea how she feels about you anymore. She doesn’t talk to me because she knows I will tell you everything. We fucked up, and we have to get her back.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[sssammich]

fic: come what may pt 3

part 1 | part 2

if you wanna read on ao3

thanks x

---

Kara’s body sags into the lawn chair that she keeps on the rooftop of her apartment. There’s an area up there that she’s claimed for herself, right by the back corner just around the rooftop entrance. She’s glad for it, especially right now, while she stares out onto the other rooftops of her neighborhood with her powers blown for at least another couple of days. 

She lets out a big pathetic sigh, puffing out her cheeks, when she recalls how she got into this predicament. 

It had been a hectic day for Supergirl. A rogue missile headed straight for downtown National City coming at the heels of a drawn out fight with an invading alien group. She’d only had enough time and energy to redirect said missile, but not to release it and fly away in time. Shrapnel lacerated her suit and embedded itself into her flesh when she attempted her retreat while the fiery explosion singed the edges of her cape as she spun out of the blast radius. She was then propelled by the force of the explosion, nosediving at the precipice of consciousness into the cliff’s edge by the coast. 

She winces at the memory and the proceeding aerial footage that Brainy showed her where she collided with the side of jagged rocks off the side of a cliff, taking a chunk of it out. The worst part was when she’d startled awake the next morning, frantically searching for the date and time, realizing with a sinking heart that she’d missed the night she told Lena she’d return to her balcony. 

She hoped Lena would understand, yet when she had plugged her phone in, there were no messages from her. Kara frowned and tried not to let the silence between them affect her. But by the way she slouched back on the sunbed, she couldn’t quite shake off her disappointment. 

Now that she’s off-duty for a few days while she recovers, she requests to work remotely to spend the time researching just so she can finish hiding in her apartment. Well, at least for now, she’s hiding on her rooftop. It’s become a kind of oasis for her. Not just today, but for a few months now while she accepted their new normal and tried to navigate this Earth. She didn’t think it would make a difference, but when she brought up two foldable lawn chairs and a tiny round table to make a little sitting area for herself, it somehow made her feel less alone. 

These days, Kara will take whatever she can get. 

Her head lolls to the side when she observes a few birds walking near her before perching themselves on the cement ledge nearby. One of the birds flew up before dropping down on the cement ledge gracefully.

“Show off,” she mutters to herself. “I can do that, too, you know.”

The birds continue on disregarding her comments and her muttering. She is then interrupted by a buzz of her phone in the plastic cup holder section of her foldable chair. She considers not answering, Alex probably pestering her to get some rest like she’s not already doing that. But the idea of getting yelled at just doesn’t interest her, not when she's already feeling herself at her lowest, so she decides to pluck her phone out of the cup holder.

Her back straightens and eyes widening in unabashed surprise when she glances down at the message displayed on her phone screen.

Lena: Are you home?

She sucks her lips between her teeth, her thumbs hovering above the glass. She moves her finger and presses the call button.

It rings just once when Lena picks up.

“Uh, hi,” Kara offers lamely, cringing at herself.

“Hi.”

“I’m—did you need something?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Alex told me what happened. I…I thought to bring you some food since I heard you’re not well. But if you’re not at home or don’t want company, I can leave the bag by your door.”

“Uh…no! I mean—you didn't need to do that,” she starts, scrambling out of her chair and rushing to the rooftop door before jumping down, taking the stairs two at a time and almost colliding with the stairwell wall. “You’re—that’s very nice, Lena…”

When her apartment door comes to view, she freezes mid-step. Kara’s gaze drops down to the bottom landing of the third floor and finds Lena, still dressed in her work clothes and hair done up in a loose bun, holding a plastic bag in one hand and her phone by her ear in the other.

“You're at my door,” she comments, stating the obvious, hearing her voice echo through the open phone line between them.

Lena smiles, the motion slight and lopsided.

“It would appear so.”

Gingerly, she steps down one step at a time, her eyes never once leaving Lena. Long seconds pass between them until she arrives by her front door, a measly two feet away from her visitor. 

Lena pulls the phone away from her ears with a smile before pocketing it. Kara mirrors her when she realizes she hadn’t hung up yet. Lena’s smile drops and her now empty hand reaches up but stops mid-air between them. 

Oh, right. 

��Looks a little gnarly, huh?” she jokes, an awkward grin on her face. Truth be told, she feels better than she looks. By tomorrow’s time, her injuries will disappear and fade, her face returning to its unblemished state. She remembers that very few people see her like this, and it’s with an ache in her chest she realizes that this is the first time that Lena has seen her in this state. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Lena slowly closes her hand into a fist and eventually drops it. She does her best not to feel disappointment at that. 

“Um, you—you had food?” 

It’s then that Lena lifts the bag she’s been holding, extending her arm out. “I got your favorites.” 

She accepts the bag, their fingers grazing with each other until she grabs hold of the bag, welcoming the weight of the food that’s inside. 

“Would you like to join me?” 

*

The rooftop door opens to a fresh breeze and the waning sun. 

She leads the two of them to her makeshift sitting area by the far end where a couple of birds have taken to loitering. They flap their wings and get away from the commotion of their presence and she sets the bag down by the table. 

Her eyes are drawn to Lena crouching down slightly and brushing the back of her skirt so she can sit on the lawn chair properly, sinking down until her knees are higher than her hips. 

Kara outwardly grimaces. “Sorry, I forgot that’s the saggy one. We can trade place—” 

“I’m fine. I don’t mind.” 

Kara watches her but silently nods and resumes taking out food from the bag and spreads them out on the table, filling every space on it. Unsure what to say or even how to speak to Lena, Kara then decides to take her time serving them their food. She passes a pair of paper-wrapped chopsticks to Lena who accepts it quietly before she peels her own, separating the wood with a snap. 

She senses Lena’s eyes trained on her, but she doesn’t flick her gaze up not once, instead focusing on taking the plastic lids off and turning it into a makeshift plate. She then serves up a portion of lo mein and a few pieces of sesame chicken before putting three healthy pieces of golden brown potstickers to finish out the plate. 

Kara finally looks up to Lena studying her. She offers a crooked smile and offers the lid-turned-plate towards the other woman who accepts it quietly, their fingers once again grazing against each other. She hurries and picks up the lid of the lo mein and serves herself her own plate, the portion smaller than what she normally eats when her powers are fully intact. 

For the next few moments, they eat in silence, the soundtrack to their early evening but the crowing of the nearby birds and the sound of distant traffic down on the streets. Every now and again, her eyes cast up to watch Lena as she digs into her own plate. The silence between them settles comfortably, like before. 

Before the distance between them, before her lies and betrayal, before Lena’s revenge. Before all the hurt she inflicted, they inflicted on each other. Before, before, before. 

Except they can’t ever go back to that world, to that life. 

As she catches sight of Lena chewing on a potsticker and eyes staring out onto the view from her rooftop, she thinks there are worse places to be and she’s fine exactly where she is. 

*

“Thanks for the food,” she says, breaking the silence between them, her lid-plate completely empty. “I appreciate you coming by.”

“Well,” Lena starts, leaning back on the chair, sinking further, her legs crossed at the knee. She looks comfortable this way despite the sharpness of her work attire. “I was promised a ‘something’ and I’m here to collect.” 

“I meant to come back.” 

“You were busy.” 

She chuckles at that. “A rogue missile can do that to you.” 

Lena tilts her head, as if studying her, and Kara does her best not to squirm under her watchful gaze. Then, Lena silently leans forward and stands from her seat, wiping away any minuscule dust or crumbs from her lap. Just as quietly, Kara tilts her head as she follows Lena’s every move. 

A gasp escapes her mouth, her brows jumping to her hairline when Lena extends a hand forward. 

“Let’s dance, Kara.” 

Her eyes drop to the offered hand in front of her. She looks back up again to an unreadable expression on Lena’s face. She gets on her feet, her legs slightly wobbly until she’s standing to her full height. 

Careful in her movements, as if Lena might take her offered hand back, Kara clasps their hands together and steps forward just as Lena steps back. 

“There’s no music,” she says. Lena simply quirks her brow before she reveals her phone in her other hand. Kara blinks, wonders how she could have missed that. 

“There’s always music.” 

Lena then presses play on her phone, the first few notes playing. Her brows crease together, her eyes quietly asking, but Lena just shrugs. They then get into position, Kara’s other hand on Lena’s waist just as Lena’s rests on her shoulder, her finger almost tracing the scabbing gash lines on the side of her face. Kara barely resists the shiver that runs down her spine. 

“I was watching Notting Hill last night because my schedule cleared up.”

She cocks her head slightly as the two of them begin to sway. “Didn’t take you much for a romantic comedy kind of viewer.” 

“In this world, I am.” 

She nods. “I like it.” 

The cool evening air breezes past them as they entangle themselves as they sway on beat to the song, their gazes stretching past each other’s heads. 

“What’s it like, not having powers?” 

She shrugs a little. “Like things are muffled, almost muted. I feel weighed down, like gravity’s working twice as hard to keep me down. It’s not unpleasant or anything, but it’s not a feeling I’m used to.” 

Lena nods, almost to herself, as she seems to take the information in. 

“I got worried when you never showed last night,” Lena says as she stares right up at her, her voice soft. 

She shakes her head, though, and pulls Lena closer, wants the other woman to make sure she’s looking when she says, “I wanted to be there, but I was out cold, apparently. I woke up this morning and panicked when I found out I’d missed it. Then when you didn’t contact me, I just thought you were mad at me.” 

“I thought you changed your mind.” 

Kara tilts her head up to find the blues of the afternoon sky having been traded in for the oranges and pinks. “As part of our pact of starting over, I think we should really improve our communication skills.” 

She then releases Lena so she can twirl her. 

“You’re not a fan of us assuming the worst of a situation or each other and internalizing it as a moral failing of ourselves?” Lena teases, exhaling a breathy laugh. 

“Lena, please,” she grumbles, a half-hearted attempt at suppressing her laugh. “Be serious.” 

She spins Lena twice until they come back together again, their fronts now pressed to each other, their faces inches from one another. 

Lena she turns her head until her chin rests on Kara’s shoulder. “We can stand to be better, I agree.” 

They move gently and loosely on the rooftop, Elvis Costello’s crooning voice filling the space around them and the National City city skyline just off to the distance. Finally, the last notes of the song play until Lena separates their hands and stops the next song from playing on her phone. Kara watches on as Lena walks towards the ledge of the rooftop towards the city’s skyline. 

It takes her a few drawn out moments to follow suit and stand beside Lena, her eyes trained on the twinkling lights of the city she saved just yesterday. 

“Kara.” 

She glances sideways, watching and waiting. Lena pivots her body so she’s facing Kara, green eyes bright and alive even in the blanketing darkness of the evening. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she breathes out, her warm hand on Kara’s forearm where a large gash sits. “I’m glad you asked me to stay for dinner. I’m glad…you let me in.” 

She places her own hand atop Lena’s. “Can I tell you that ‘something’ I promised?” 

Lena gestures with a nod, curling long, elegant fingers around Kara’s arm, like she’s trying to anchor herself to Kara, or maybe it’s the other way around. She’s not sure, but she doesn’t care either way, just that they are. 

“I want to rebuild our friendship first and foremost, and that’s what I’ll be focusing on. But I also…” she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. When Lena looks on encouragingly, she takes a deep breath. “But I also hope that if you’re open to it, that it could someday lead to something…more.” 

“Something…more,” Lena repeats. 

“Yeah.” 

“What are you really saying?” 

Kara scratches her temple, adjusting her glasses on her face. “I’m saying that there are feelings that I’ve denied myself about you because I’d hurt you and then you’d hurt me. But they’ve never gone away, Lena. Not once. And if it’s alright with you, I don’t want them to.” 

When Lena doesn’t say anything, Kara’s confidence wanes and her mouth goes rogue. “But if you don’t feel the same way, if you don’t or c-can’t love me as more than a friend, then that’s fine, too. I’d never—that’ll never stop me being your friend or wanting to protect you.” 

“You love me?” 

“Without question,” she says, pressing forward as she tightens her grip on Lena’s hand. 

“What if you change your mind?” 

Kara’s heart tries not to bruise at the fear and apprehension in Lena’s eyes. 

“I won’t.” 

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” she says with a helpless shrug. “But I know you.” 

Lena doesn’t say anything more, her eyes searching Kara’s face—for what, she’s not sure, but Kara won’t look away. Wordlessly, Lena twists her head to gaze out to the darkened horizon for a moment, and Kara prepares herself for the worst. She’s not prepared for the shine of tears in Lena’s eyes when she turns back to look at Kara. She thinks if she looked closely, she would find her reflection and the threat of her own tears. 

“I thought we’d missed our chance. After everything, I just thought—” 

It’s then she shakes her head, inches closer, her heart rapidly beating when she thinks about what Lena’s saying. “It’s still here, Lena. I’m here.” 

Lena lunges forward and Kara receives her in her arms, winding them around Lena’s middle, tightening her grip when Lena buries herself in the crook of her neck. They rock side to side in place as they simply hold one another, the city’s night sounds of National City buzzing around them. 

After a short while, they break apart, eyes searching for each other under the dim rooftop lights that Kara just now notices have turned on. 

“Okay,” Lena finally says, her voice watery, but strong. 

“Yeah?” Her heart sings and swoops when Lena bobs her head. “Okay, then. Um, do you wanna go downstairs and watch a movie or something?” 

Kara doesn’t move or breathe or do anything but watch as Lena brings the back of her hand and gently caresses cheek. “I’d love to, but I should head back home.” 

She resists the disappointment to wash over her and offers a genuine smile. 

“Let me walk you down.” 

They untangle from each other, Kara’s body practically vibrating as they clean up and march down the steps hand in hand. When they reach the front of her building, Kara isn’t surprised to find Lena’s driver already waiting. 

“When’s your next dance lesson?” Lena asks when she turns to face Kara once again. 

“Thursday at the Y. 7pm.” 

“Mind if I tag along?” 

Her face splits into a wide smile that she doesn’t bother hiding. “Never.” 

“Goodnight, Kara,” Lena says, leaning forward and pressing a small, chaste kiss on her cheek before squeezing Kara’s hand and letting go. “See you Thursday.”

Her response is to carefully dip down and place a mirroring kiss on Lena’s cheek. When she draws back, it’s to the image of Lena’s face soft and gentle, smiling up at her. 

The smile never disappears from her face as she watches Lena stride towards the backseat of her car, as she rolls the windows down and gives Kara a parting wave, as she rolls the window back up only after they’ve turned the corner.

The air around her swirls with hope, crackles with possibility, and she clings onto it all while she ascends the stairs two at a time to her apartment, humming the song of their earlier dance. This is just the beginning, a chance to make it count. 

So that’s what she plans to do.

[waterfae]

A Good Pillow [Part 2]

Summary: A glimpse of your budding friendship with Ominis and your growing feelings after the events in the Scriptorium.

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Reader, Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mild language, angst, comfort, fluff, friends-to-lovers, unhinged Slytherins, complicated relationships, house-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, no beta

Word Count: 1.3+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been spending a lot more time with Ominis Gaunt these days.” You turned your attention towards Natty after she made the remark and said nothing in response. There was no need for one; her statement was an undeniable truth. As the school year progressed, you indeed had been spending an increasing amount of time with Ominis – much to the concern of some, which was baffling; you had yet to meet a finer gentleman!

“Ominis Gaunt?” Poppy chimed, suddenly appearing and occupying the empty seat beside you, “Hello girls.” She added quickly with nods to the both of you, “Are we talking about Ominis? Do you know him?”

You smiled brightly at the Huffplepuff in greeting and took a swig of butterbeer before bringing the glass back down onto the table with a light thud, licking away the foam from your lips that the drink had left behind.

“You could say that.” You answered with a slight warmth rising to your cheeks at the thought of him, “He really is quite kind and a very good, dependable friend once you get to know him better.”

“You should have invited him then!” Poppy piped as her own glass of butterbeer arrived and was placed in front of her. You smiled, glad to know there was someone within your growing group of friends that was open to having Ominis around. Natty, however, continued to look warily.

“I’d still be cautious if I were you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper and she bent forward towards the center of the table so only the three of you could hear, “I heard he’s interested in dark magic.”

You let out a snort and straightened yourself back up in your seat before taking another sip of your drink. Poppy did the same, tutting and waving her finger, “I’m disappointed in you, Natty. Why would you entertain such gossip?”

“Amit and Everett were talking about it just the other day!” Natty explained, “Many others say it too. He is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin after all.” She turned to you and added, “You might have fared better sticking with Sebastian. He may be a bit of a troublemaker at times, but you don’t hear anything about him getting mixed up with the dark arts.”

No longer able to hold back after her last few words, you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh as the two other girls looked on questioningly.

Oh, if she only knew.

The remainder of the Hogsmeade trip was spent arm-in-arm with your two friends; happily strolling along the cobblestone streets, appreciating your time out of the castle, listening to a street musician, and hopping from Zonko’s to Honeydukes whilst sampling treats and chatting with other familiar faces that you happened to encounter. By the time you stepped back onto the grounds, the sun had already set, the temperature had grown more chilly, and some of the students were slowly inching their way back towards the castle. You spotted a familiar figure sitting upon one of the benches near the entrance and – once you were near enough – gently pulled away from your companions with a cordial goodnight and jogged over to the young man.

“Ominis.” You took the seat beside him, wrapping your cloak tighter around yourself as you did so, “What are you still doing out here by yourself? It’s cold.”

He turned to the direction of your voice with a smile, “Waiting for you.”

“Oh, Ominis.” You felt your cheeks grow warm for the second time that day, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I am well aware of that; I simply wanted to.” He scooted closer as you pushed a small package into his hands, “What’s this?”

“Sugar quills.” You replied beaming, “Thought I’d replenish your supply since I ate the last one when you helped me with my essay the other day.”

Ominis’s smile widened as he pocketed the gift into his robes and recalled that particular session in the library.

“Try this one.” Ominis returned to his seat bedside you and placed a book down on the table.

You were absentmindedly sucking on the sugar quill he had offered earlier, your chin supported by your free hand and eyes drowsily fixed upon a random portrait. A sigh escaped from your lips when you felt him push the book towards you.

“I am sick of this Potions essay. My brain feels like mush!”

He chuckled, “Come now. You’ve almost completed it.”

You pouted, opening the book that had been placed before you to a random page. Ominis pulled his chair closer, brushing against you in the process, and flipped through the pages using his wand, mumbling about how he had noticed something previously that might be useful. You left him to his task, grateful for the assistance, but exhausted having spent the last few days researching and attempting to complete the accursed essay.

Ominis continued to urge you on, stating that you only had a few more inches of parchment to go and that today was going to be the day you finished. He would make sure of it. And so he eagerly poured over the texts of the book he had picked out for you while you moved onto another set that you had been combing through earlier.

It did not take long for your eyelids to fall closed. Despite the hands you had placed at your chin for support – sugar quill long forgotten – your head had already been sleepily bobbing up and down before you even began to read.

Ominis could feel the movement beside him; your body slowly swaying where you sat, bumping your shoulder into his repeatedly. This tore his attention away from the book and back onto you. Quickly, he dropped his wand, anticipating the next motion as your head finally slipped from your hands. He reached out with his own, catching you before your head could land harshly against the wooden table.

He let out a sigh, relieved that he had been able to catch you in time and equally surprised that none of it had woken you up.

“You really must be tired then.” He whispered, thumb gently caressing the side of your cheek that had fallen into his hand.

Instead of waking you, he gently adjusted himself and guided your head towards his shoulder; allowing you to continue with your sleep while he quietly recited notes and page numbers for his enchanted quill to jot down.

A gust of chill air quickly shook Ominis out of his reverie and he felt you shiver beside him.

“We should get you inside.” He stood up and offered you a hand, his other brandishing his wand.

You accepted it and allowed him to lead you towards the castle, “Probably for the best.”

“Shall I walk with you to your common room?” He asked as the pair of you walked through the doors.

You smiled brightly, happy to take any chance you could to spend more time with him, “That would be lovely.”

He gave your hand a quick squeeze and began your trip through the various corridors and stairs. As you made your way, you chatted about your afternoon: he asked how your Hogsmeade trip went, you in turn asked what he had done opting to stay within the castle, he spoke of Sebastian's latest musings, you told him of Garreth’s antics that nearly got him kicked out of Honeydukes. The number of students you passed dwindled and the halls grew quiet as you neared your house.

“Here we are.” He released your hand upon reaching the entrance, turned towards you and softly said, “Good night.”

A pause.

You stared at him for a moment.

“Good night.”

Another pause.

He seemed to linger.

“Sleep well.”

You blushed.

“Perhaps if I can find a good enough pillow.”

He scoffed.

“Good luck with that.”

You shuffled your feet.

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Another moment of silence passed.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Ominis.” You said, breaking through the quiet, and quickly turned on your heel to disappear into your common room – heat rising to your face.

“Right.” He slumped as he sensed you go, “Tomorrow.”

Dissatisfied with the clumsy conclusion to the evening, he mentally kicked himself as he walked off to return to his own common room.

a/n: I initially intended for this to only be a one-shot, but these two wouldn't leave me alone! So here we are. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡ 

After all this time - while reformatting and cross-posting this fic to tumblr - I just realized that even though I did say reader is house-neutral, the way things are written makes it clear that she is not in Slytherin. I apologize! I hope you are able to look past this transgression.

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Reader and Alejandro interactions that make Simon jealous and a wee bit insecure. Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

____ pulled into the underground parking lot of the apartment complex, sighing. She had just come back from an underwhelming meeting with her editor. 

She had proudly submitted the first few chapters of her manuscript, hoping they would be a hit, but was instead bombarded with the many suggestions of changes that should be made; while the plot itself was alright, the main complaint had to do with the male lead. 

“Frederick is not captivating or interesting enough. He needs more depth and personality… Definitely something different from Elystran,” the voice of the editor echoed in her thoughts as she killed the engine of her car and stepped out of the car. The thought of it once again made her shoulders slump with disappointment. 

Just as she did, out of the elevator across her parking spot came Alejandro. He spotted her and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, twirling his car keys around his finger. 

“Hey, where you off to? I thought you were at work already.” 

He shrugged, “Took a day off for a doctor's appointment.”

“What happened?” 

“Nasty back pain,” he sighed. Then noticing her dull spirits, he asked if she was okay. 

“Yeah, I just came back from a meeting with the editor and apparently, I have a lot of stuff to change in my manuscript.” 

“Ah,” he nodded solemnly, “I'm sorry to hear that.” 

She shrugged. “It is what it is.” 

Alejandro was silent for a moment, unsure whether to ask whatever he had on his mind. He decided to just go for it. “Do you mind if I read the manuscript? I'd like to see what it's all about. Maybe get a sneak peek into your next book too.” He winked at her. 

“I was actually thinking of asking you just that.” She beamed, happy that he asked. 

Alejandro raised his eyebrows. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Actually, most of the problems in my manuscript are with the male lead, so I think your valuable input as a man would really help me out. And your general opinion as a reader too.” 

The man couldn't help but feel flattered. “Is that so? Then I'd be happy to help you out. Just send me the manuscript and I'll read it soon.” He threw his car keys in the air and caught it in his rugged, tan hand and smiled. 

“Perfect.” Just as she was about to say something else, she got a notification on her phone, which she immediately took out, hoping it was a message from the editor changing his mind about the manuscript. 

But it was Simon. Though a little disappointed, she still smiled, and he noticed.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, raising his eyebrows teasingly at her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, grinning. She kept the phone back in her pocket, deciding to answer him later. 

Alejandro found it a little odd that she wouldn’t reply to Simon immediately, but he figured, “Maybe it’s just me,” and decided to let it be. 

“I’m offended you didn’t tell me you started dating,” he smirked, playfully putting on a tone of feigned offense as he put his hand on his chest. “How’d you two meet?”

She laughed at his dramatics and then briefly related the incident to him. 

“So you two started dating only a month and a half after meeting each other? That's… quick.” Alejandro remarked, raising his eyebrow. He knew people could fall in love at first sight, but that wasn’t the case with everyone. 

“Yeah,” her voice squeaked and her gaze faltered; she cursed herself for it. “We found a lot in common and… hit it off.” 

“Hm…” he exhaled, noticing the vagueness and lack of conviction in her voice and body language, but decided not to comment on it, not wanting to jump into conclusions too soon. “Well, good for you. I’m glad you found someone,” he said with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He then looked at his watch. “I should get going. Don’t wanna be late for the appointment.” 

“Alright, see you later!” she said with some eagerness, wanting to end the conversation, for she didn't know how else she could cover up. 

“See ya, muñequita.” 

Simon had recently followed ____’s spam/personal account, and saw that the skeleton plushie made a very frequent appearance. It showed up even on her main account to her tons of followers. 

The story on her personal account posted late in the morning showed the skeleton perched against her laptop screen along with the caption, “Serious writer’s block rn. He’s cheering me on!”

The next image, posted three hours later was of Alejandro in front of a laptop that looked like hers, captioned, “@-alevargas is giving me some pointers. He's ruthless 💀”

Simon grunted, feeling a spurt of jealousy. He rolled over on his side on Gaz's sofa, nearly kicking Johnny– who was seated on the floor– on the back of his head. 

He didn't hear his friend's yelp as he was too busy feeling bummed that she didn't ask him, especially after the two shared meaningful conversations over her novel before. 

“It's not like I can control who she chooses to share her work with,” he told himself resignedly, “Besides, we're just friends. I'm not supposed to be feeling jealous like this.” 

Yet he couldn't help it. 

Simon decided to scope out his competition by paying a visit to Alejandro's Instagram page. Upon reaching there, he found that the man was an up-and-coming part time model with a fair amount of followers. Even though Simon saw him in real life and found him to be a handsome man, his modeling photographs rendered him dangerously handsome; he had perfectly tanned skin, thick glossy black waves styled gorgeously to suit his masculine features, straight pearly whites for teeth, a near perfect five o'clock shadow, an athletic and muscular body, and a dazzling smile characteristic of motivational speakers. He was Mexican, to top it off, which meant that he most definitely was an outgoing and energetic guy. 

Simon felt his confidence fade into insignificance. Here was a man perfect in every respect like an expertly cut diamond, and compared to him, Simon felt like an ugly, misshapen rock. His own features contrasted with Alejandro's in his brooding, glaring eyes, his pale skin, thin lips, crooked teeth, his somber and quiet outward personality, and most of all, his marred face and body. 

He immediately exited Instagram and dropped the phone on his chest, sighing. “Yeah, with a bloke like him as competition, there's no way I'm winning,” he thought to himself, now resting his arm over his forehead. 

“Oi, Ghosty,” Johnny nudged Simon's leg with his elbow. 

The familiar nickname irked him all of a sudden, as it felt like a reminder of his flaws. “What?” he asked, trying not to sound snappy. 

“Did ye ask ____ if she wants tae come for our one night camp?”

Simon grunted. “I'll ask later.” 

“No. Yer gonna forget. Also, tell her that Lindsey is coming too.” 

Lindsey. Simon remembered Johnny telling him about her soon after he confessed their stalking. A short, freckled, ginger girl; Johnny spoke about her a lot and with excitement too, even calling her ‘Jolene’ in reference to the Dolly Parton song. Simon wasn't particularly surprised that Johnny was gallivanting with yet another lady; that's what he had always been doing since high school. His wit, charm, smiles, energy, and particularly his Scottish accent recommended him greatly to the opposite sex. He only hoped that Lindsey wouldn't take him too seriously. 

Simon picked his phone back up and sent a quick text to ____  about the camping trip and its general details. No sooner was he about to throw his device aside on the coffee table to pay more attention to Gaz who was playing his electric guitar nearby, her reply came. 

Author Girl: of course I'd love to come! 

Simon Riley: great. I'll let you in on more details later

Simon Riley: Johnny has invited your friend too apparently

Author Girl: Really? She didn't even tell me.

Simon Riley: u better ask her about it then. 

There appeared to be a slight delay in her reply even though she was online, and he wondered what she was up to. Finally, a reply came after two minutes. 

Author Girl: I'll do that :) 

Simon Riley: Are you busy? 

Author Girl: yeah kind of. Alejandro is giving me some suggestions for my story

He felt a twinge of jealousy again. “He's still there? At this point, maybe they make a better pair than she and I,” he thought despairingly. 

Simon Riley: yeah, I saw ur Instagram story. How's it coming along? 

Author Girl: it's coming along great. We're almost done here

Simon Riley: he's at your place? 

Author Girl: yeah, he came over to give me some enchiladas he made and I invited him to come in. 

Another twinge of jealousy, and another skill to add to Alejandro's repertoire. 

Simon was so close to typing, “I wish you invited me instead,” but immediately deleted it. 

Simon Riley: cool. 

Simon Riley: I'll leave you two then, I got other things to do

Author Girl: sure. I'll text u back soon :) 

Simon Riley: alright. Cheers

She noticed how he went offline so quickly and stared at her phone for a moment. “Is it just me or did he seem a little off?” she wondered to herself, hoping she wasn't reading too much into it. She shrugged it off, thinking it had to do with whatever he was busy with. 

“Muñequita?” Alejandro's voice interrupted her reverie.

Her eyes snapped back to the man sitting across her. “Yes?” she smiled, not realising she had been engrossed with Simon. 

He looked at the clock on her wall. “I should get going now. It's gotten late,” he said, now placing her laptop on the coffee table and rising. 

“Oh right, I've kept you here long enough,” she chuckled as she rose too. “Wait here for a moment.” 

Alejandro, confused and curious, stood by the coffee table as he watched her disappear behind her kitchen door. She soon appeared with a can of soda, which she put in his hand. 

“That's for you, as thanks for the enchiladas and helping me out,” she said, grinning at him. 

He chuckled and playfully gave her forehead a gentle knock with the edge of the cold can. “Thanks, muñequita,” he smirked, opening the tab of the can with a single finger and taking a long sip of the soda. “Well,” he began as soon as the sip was drowned, “I'll be off now. Good night.” 

“Good night, Alejandro. Take care,” she said as she walked him to the door. 

“You too, nena,” he gave her a little smile. “Call me if you need any more help, alright? I'll be at your beck and call,” he said only half-jokingly, giving her a wink. 

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You don't need to do that, but I'll let you know.”

As soon as he left, she breathed a heavy sigh. The conversation with Alejandro was fruitful, but she was exhausted. She decided to decompress and wind down for the night by taking a nice, long shower and a soak in the bathtub. She then had a simple dinner and just before bedtime, she was found on her bed in her satin pajamas and her phone, cuddled with the cushions and plushies; Little Simon, the most preferred and well loved, was tucked under her arm and pressed against her breast. 

Her cute animal video marathon was interrupted by a message from (Bigger) Simon. 

Simon Riley: wyd? Are you busy? 

Author Girl: watching videos. Hbu? 

Simon Riley: [photo] 

Simon Riley: watching a film with the lads. It's boring 

The photo showed a glowing television screen in a dark room, and a little cameo of Johnny's familiar mohawk at the bottom as he was seated on the floor in front of Simon. 

Simon Riley: I'd rather talk to you

She felt her heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: I hope I'm not disturbing you btw

Author Girl: no no you're not

Author Girl: tbh I'd rather be talking to you too 😂

It was now Simon's turn to feel his heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: good, because I'm in for a conversation 

Author Girl: what do u wanna talk about? 

Simon Riley: hmm

Simon Riley: how did it go with Alejandro? 

Unbeknownst her, Simon had to revise that text several times so as to not make himself sound unnecessarily overprotective, prying, and smothering. He hoped that he sounded casual and carefree enough. 

Author Girl: went well. He gave me a lot of pointers for my male characters. My editor wasn't so happy with my male lead so I had to consult an actual guy to help me out

Simon Riley: you could've asked me

Author Girl: yeah well Alejandro was the first guy I came across so I thought I'd ask him. I was going to ask a bunch of different guys too so I'll be asking you next 😁

Simon Riley: good. I'll be glad to help. 

Simon Riley: btw about the trip

Simon Riley: I need to fill u in w the finer details. Can I call you rn? 

Author Girl: sure

She sat up straight on the bed with bated breath. Though he had a few phone calls with him, she still felt a little bit nervous. She was about to get lost in her thoughts when the blaring of her ringtone made her jump with fright. She scrambled to pick up the call. 

“Hey!” she squeaked in a high pitch, and immediately cleared her throat. 

“Hi darling,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate; she could hear him smiling. “You alright? You seem a little… I don't know, surprised?”

“No,” she said breathlessly, “No, no, I'm fine.” She chuckled. When she heard the faint sound of traffic on his side, she asked, “Are you out already?” 

“Just the balcony,” he answered.” How could you tell?”

“I could hear some traffic.” 

“You're sharp,” he complimented. 

She smiled. “Thanks. Now, what did you want to discuss?” 

“Right, yes,” his voice immediately turned serious. He gave her all the finer details of the trip for a few minutes and at the end of it, he asked, “We're planning on using a car to get there since it's gonna be the five of us and it will save on petrol. Do you think we could use your car?” 

“Well if my car is in good enough condition for you, then I don't mind,” she said, a hint teasingly. 

He chuckled. “If I check it and find anything wrong, I'll give you a bollocking,” he teased back. 

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes, smiling, “You gave me enough of a bollocking the other day when my battery died. I'm not going to let you do it again.”

She heard him laugh, and like it always did, her heart melted. 

“You deserved it,” he scoffed. “But anyway, batteries and bollockings aside, you're okay with your car being used?”

“Absolutely.” 

“And you're comfortable driving long distances? Like I said, it will be a three hour drive, which is quite long by European standards.” 

“I'm okay with it. It's been a long time since I've driven that long though.” 

“Don't worry, if you're tired, I'll take your place.” 

“You? But didn't you say you were a bad driver?” she smirked. 

He could hear her smirking and thought he'd try to make her laugh. “If I try really hard, I can avoid hitting a tree.” 

She burst out laughing. “You're banned from the driver's seat!”

He smiled, gratified. “Whatever shall I do,” he said sarcastically, smiling and shaking his head. 

“If you can prove that you won't hit anything within the first five minutes of the drive, then maybe I'll consider letting you drive for longer,” she challenged, shifting in her seat on the bed and running her finger over the contours of Little Simon on her lap. 

“Challenge accepted,” he said with a self-assured snort. 

She smiled at his confidence and willingness. “So where are we all meeting again?” she asked. 

“At my place. I'll send you directions for it after this.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, now thinking of what his place looked like. What sort of decor and aesthetic he preferred, what sort of colors he liked, and if he kept house plants. 

The two continued to converse a little more until their eyes felt heavy and they started yawning. 

“Are your friends still watching the movie?” she asked, by this time half sitting up and half laying down on her bed. 

“I think it's almost over,” Simon, who was still seated in the balcony, looked over his shoulder at Gaz and Johnny who had their eyes still glued to the television set, despite them having melted into the sofa. “You sound sleepy, darling. You should go.” 

“Hmm…” she sighed. “But I don't want to go,” she whined in a soft, sleepy mumble. 

“Why not?” he questioned smilingly, not wanting her to hear how her sleepy whine was making him melt. 

“I like talking to you,” she replied in a tone that was trying to convince him to stay. She rolled over on her side, holding Little Simon close to her chest. 

The man's distant eyes softened as he heard this and he felt a little tickle in his stomach. His voice deepened, quietened, and mellowed as he replied, “Same here, my darling, but we'll talk again soon, alright? You sound like you're gonna fall asleep right now.” 

He heard another little whine, and he chuckled, unable to stop finding her cuteness so endearing and sweet. “Go on now,” he encouraged gently. 

She finally relented. “Good night, Simon,” she said in a half-whisper. 

“Good night, my love.” 

There ended the call, and Simon kept his phone on his thigh, feeling his face turn warm against the cool, damp air of the outdoors. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. 

“Fuck me…” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. 

This phone call was a huge boost to his earlier insecurity. Their banter, her acting cute, her not wanting to stop talking to him was evidence enough that she preferred him over Alejandro. He could only hope that his hunch was right and that she wasn't doing the same thing with the other man. 

When the sound of her puppy-like whine echoed in his mind again, he groaned, wishing he could punch a wall so he could feel manly again. 

Any more, and she was going to be the death of him. 

The same woman, blissfully unaware of how her unintentional cuteness affected Simon, was now half-asleep on her bed, fingers curled loosely around her phone, and Little Simon nestled under her arm. 

“Elystran, from your first book, was bubbly and energetic. So I think that it would make sense for Frederick to be a little more reserved and aloof, but someone with power and authority, unyielding, and kind to nobody but Adelheid. Maybe if you knew someone with similar traits like these, you could use them as a model.” Alejandro's words from their earlier discussion echoed in her thoughts. 

Like lazily floating clouds on a clear summer's day, her thoughts drifted, trying to think of who would make the perfect model. 

Her thoughts settled on one man: 

“Simon.”

End of Part 7.

Part 8

Thank you all for your love on this series! I enjoy writing this and all your wonderful likes, comments, and reblogs fuel my passion some more. It's sm fun to write fluff; too bad I don't see a lot of it on tumblr lol. But anyway, thank you all once again. Remember, if you enjoyed this and want to be notified for updates, leave a comment so that I can add you to my tag list. x

[scoops-aboy86]

Just Keeping Life & Soul Together (Secret Admirer pt 4)

Steddie Week 2024, July 4: Trade / body swap / Wouldn't It Be Good by Nik Kershaw

wc: 1812 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

By the time Steve recovers enough to drive home, it’s time to clock out anyway. Robin hangs back, not taking off on her bike until she sees him get in the car, and he’s had more time to think about it now. 

Robin’s outfit that she’d changed into in the employee bathroom after clocking out is an eclectic mishmash of different colors and patterns; Secret Admirer said they wear mostly dark colors. That’s not the only reason it isn’t her, but Steve can’t quite put a finger on anything else. It’s just… she has a very different vibe. 

He’s exhausted and still not feeling great, so that’s as far as he thinks about it. 

But the next morning he wakes up, still with some of that post-headache grogginess but better, and realizes that if she was telling the truth about someone in the ice cream parlor sending him that cone, Secret Admirer was there. Probably saw how out of it he was and felt bad, but not bad enough to overcome their reservations about revealing themselves. 

God, Steve wishes he could remember who had been in Scoops when his efforts to ‘man up’ and push through the pain had crumbled. He doesn’t, but that’s okay. Robin knows. 

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Yes keep writing. Please keep writing. My head’s been killing me these past couple days and wanting to write back to you is the only thing that’s kept me going. I’m sorry I got Bilbo’s name wrong. 

So I guess you already knew I had a headache the other day since you sent me that ice cream. That was you, right? Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles? I wish you would’ve stayed. I know you’re shy or scared of me not wanting you once I know who you are, but it really kind of sucked that you didn’t. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything but I missed you so much even though I don’t know you. But I feel like I do know you, because you keep telling me things about yourself, like bread crumbs in that fairy tale from the book my mom used to read to me when I was a little kid but she stopped a long time ago because my dad didn’t want me to be a sissy momma’s boy. But fuck that, sometimes everyone needs to be read a story so they have something good in their head while they go to sleep, okay? I have nightmares a lot. I can’t tell you about them because I signed an NDA, but they’re horrible. I wake up screaming sometimes, only I can’t when my parents are home because my dad gets pissed and my mom gets disappointed, just like they did about how hurt I got last year. And the year before. It’s all connected and it’s all bullshit and none of it was my fault, I just happened to be there and I got sucked in and I keep getting sucked in and some nights I can’t even sleep anymore. 

You said you smoke, right? Cigarettes and other stuff. Cigarettes don’t help, drinking makes me feel like shit, so maybe I should try the other stuff. Does it help with sleeping? Do you think it would help my headaches or make me not dream so much? I’m so tired and I keep thinking that if I got some the smell would be like you’re there, since you smoke it too. I want to feel like you’re here with me so I’m not alone. Maybe if you were here the nightmares wouldn’t be as bad and I could get some sleep and then the headaches wouldn’t happen as often because you were right, they get worse if I don’t get enough sleep or if I’m stressed out. 

What if you called me sometime? 555-5555. You wouldn’t have to say anything, maybe just play some of the music that you think I’d hate and I can tell you if I do or not? Just let me talk to you? The hard thing about writing is I have to fill a whole page without any way to know what you think about any of it for at least a few days, and I guess a one-sided phone conversation isn’t that different but it would be something, right? I might like your music after all and then we’ll have something in common. Or maybe I can listen and then you can write to me about why you like it and if it’s something I didn’t think of (there are a lot of things I don’t think about on the first try, perspectives and stuff) maybe it’ll grow on me. Sorry if I’m pushing too hard but you said you wanted to give me something with all this and it was just an idea I had. You could give me new things to find out about, like with the Hobbit in his hole eating his hobbit breakfast. (I really liked the part with the glowing sword, that was awesome, I wish my bat would glow when )

Anyway. Robin knows about my headaches now too I guess, which is embarrassing. She was nice about it though and let me hide in the back until I could go home, but she probably still hates me for being King Steve. I’d write about something else but there’s not a lot going on in my life besides you.

— Steve

PS My parents are gone all this week, so if you do call it’s just me here. And you can call whenever, but maybe Friday at 10:30? You don’t have to though. Just keep writing.

~

The next time Steve goes to work, head no longer in danger of splitting open, Robin still calls him a dingus. It doesn’t feel as mean as it used to though. So that’s something. 

It’s easier now to take her jabs in stride. Before he’d just tried to let it roll off him like water off a duck, but he cautiously tries out responding in kind. 

“Your hat’s on backwards,” she calls across the parlor, smirking when it makes him reach up to check. “Made you look!”

Five minutes later, he gets her back with, “Your shoe’s untied.” When she glances down, he grins and adds, “Yeah that’s right, Buckley, two can play at this game.”

“Oh, it is on, Harrington.”

They start racing during the slow times when there are only a couple of people in line at a time, one sticking to scooping and the other ringing up while the former tries to move the second customer along before the latter finishes the first transaction. It’s a much better use of the You Rule / You Suck board, though she does still add tallies for whatever she considers Steve’s failed flirting attempts. (He’s not even trying anymore, not with Secret Admirer always on his mind these days.) Makes the ache of pining a little easier to bear; makes the day almost fun. 

“Hey, so,” Steve ventures while they’re cleaning up after close. “I have a question.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin tense up. “What?”

He feels wrong-footed already, if just that was enough to put her on edge, but he can’t stop now that he’s pulled the trigger. “Who, uh. Who sent me the ice cream the other day?”

She blinks, and once she’s processed the question the stiffness in her posture goes away as quickly as it had come. “Oooh. You think someone’s sweet on you, is that it? Admit it.”

“No,” Steve sputters back. Even he had to admit, though, that the way his face heats up immediately really undercuts the claim. 

“Tell you what.” She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter, eyeing him smugly. “I’ll trade you for it.”

“You’ll.” Now it’s his turn to blink. “Trade me?”

“Yeah. I have information that’s valuable to you, apparently, so you give me something that’s valuable to me in exchange.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck, trying to think. “I could… give you dating advice?”

Robin snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Flustered, he throws up his hands. “Well what do you want, then?”

She’s full on grinning at him now, and while it’s not necessarily malicious (which he appreciates) it’s still at his expense (which he does not). “Uh-uh, you’ve got to put your thinking cap on and come up with something on your own, Mr. Hair. It’s more genuine that way.”

“What? Nooo,” Steve groans, but he supposes he’s grateful that she didn’t whip out the ol’ it builds character that his dad threw at him when ordering him to get a menial summer job. “And I don’t have a thinking cap.”

That makes her actually laugh. “Well duh, who’s dorky enough to own an actual thinking cap?”

Dustin does, Steve thinks fondly. The little squirt is only off at camp for another week, and he really has missed the little shithead. It’ll be nice to get along with his coworker and have a friend around… as pathetic as that does make him feel. 

But whatever, first he has to figure out what Robin might want in exchange for what could very likely turn out to be his Secret Admirer’s identity.

~

Every time Eddie has seen Steve since that Tuesday at Scoops, he’s with his coworker Robin. Apparently he’s started giving her rides so she doesn’t have to bike everywhere all the time. They talk animatedly, like little kids racing from thought to thought as they gleefully mock and annoy each other. 

And it’s probably his fault somehow. Maybe knowing that Steve was actually suffering instead of suffering his own consequences had softened her up, allowed her to pause and notice the soft and genuine person underneath what remained of the King Steve veneer. Maybe it’s impossible not to fall in love with Steve Harrington. 

Whatever it was, the results make Eddie yearn to swap lives with some girl he doesn’t even know. Someone who gets to touch Steve on the arm without reproach—even if it’s more of a punch than a touch, jeez. The only relief he gets from the green monster of jealousy twisting around his heart is Steve’s letter asking him to call, so even if Robin is interested now then it seems she’s out of luck. 

Call. And not even talk, but just listen to Steve’s voice and maybe play selections from a few of his favorite albums, then spend his next letter talking about why they’re his favorites. This perfect man has managed to pluck three of his favorite things to do out of thin air and present the offer as a favor to Steve rather than, uh, only the closest Eddie has ever been to going on an actual date in his entire life. 

… If only he felt in any way prepared.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls

@matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor

@whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

@dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

[futbol16]

Mi Hermana  • Alexia Putellas

I really hope you guys like this! I’m super happy about how well the first part did and thank you to the anon that requested it!

Requests: To ‘Alexia Jr’: Awesome… possible part 2 with alexia ripping into the team about how they’ve been acting?

can we please have more of Alexia jr 😫

I love alexia jr is it possible to do a part 2? Thanks ❤🦄

Part 1 Alexia Jr

Word count: 2,8k

Since that night on the pitch with your sisters, Alexia paid more attention to the team’s interactions with you, or sometimes the lack of it. Now that she has been cleared to start working with a ball again she is around the team more often and though she still has training separate from you, she’s also a lot closer and can hear how the girls talk to you. To say she’s baffled would be an understatement and it’s only been two days since your admission about the situation. 

Although she wants nothing more than to give them an earful when it happens, you had made her promise to handle it in a mature way. You didn’t want to mess up the team dynamics even more.

 Barca’s game that following week, your sister watches you play from next to the benched players and the proud smile is hard to miss. However, cameras that were supposed to be on you at this moment as you dive down the length of the field with the ball at your feet, are on Alexia instead who’s wearing that pleased look. It’s wrong of them to focus on her when you’re in the midst of showing exactly why you’re in Barca’s first team. 

She cheers loudly with the rest of the girls as the ball is chipped over the goalkeeper and you nod towards the fans, your hand above your eyes as if you were shielding them from the sun, almost like you were saluting the crowd. Your signature celebration. 

That prideful glint in Alexia’s eyes turns into disappointment when she notices that none of your teammates celebrate with you or congratulate you. She does however feel a slight sense of relief when she sees Mapi clapping in her position, far back on your side of the field. The brunette’s jaw clenches at the lack of support you’re receiving from your team after each and every good pass or chance on goal, she is beyond saddened. 

It’s only moments later when just as you receive the ball from Patri the defender on the other team comes in fast and takes your legs out. The air time you get before harshly landing on your side is something Alba would joke about but when you don’t immediately get up your sister realizes this could be serious. While you lay there for a bit, gripping the grass for a second to take your mind off the searing pain in your ankle, the defender gets her yellow card. 

Still, Mapi is the only one coming to check on you near the left side of the pitch. 

Once again, Alexia is grateful that her best friend is looking out for her little sister but she feels like the rest of the girls have let you and her down at the same time, she expected more of them. She shot up to her feet the instant you were tackled and she had leant forward wanting to see more and make sure you were okay. You slowly get up though, thankfully, assuring Mapi and the referee that you’re good to continue playing. Your sister plops back in her seat with a long exhale of worry and Marta, who’s sat next to her sends her a reassuring smile. 

Eventually the match comes to an end and you wander off the field with a 5-1 victory, shaking the hands of the opposition as you do. Most of the girls have already ran off towards the bench, no doubt wanting to see your sister and your thoughts are proved to be true when you look in the direction. Alexia’s eyes connect with your own and though she holds a bright expression, happy for the team, there’s a look in her eyes that you don’t quite recognize. 

Paula swings an arm over your shoulders, the Levante player a good friend of yours from the national team. You look over at her, noticing the way she purses her lips in thought and you nudge her to start talking.

“Do they always just leave you like that?” she voices her thoughts as she watches your teammates interact with your sister. Not one of them had clapped your back after the final whistle was blown even though they’ve done it to each other. You shrug at her.

“Most of them.” the sympathetic look she gives you is one that makes you regret answering the question and you bid her goodbye as your team starts their way towards the changing room. 

You’re rather surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in front of the door and you give her a questioning look before she pulls you into a hug.

“You were so good out there hermana, I’m so proud of you” she tells you sincerely as she rubs a hand over your back and you sink further into her embrace.

“Gracias Ale” your voice is muffled by her shoulder but she presses a kiss to your forehead nonetheless. “Are we gonna go in or..?” 

“Sí, but I’m going to talk to them and-”

“Ale, no” you plead with her, shaking your head rapidly. “Not now please, we just won I don’t want them to be upset because of me” 

She stares at you for a second, her eyebrows furrowing and her signature frown on her face, but she gives in with a sigh. Even in times like this when you were so deeply hurt you put others’ feelings above your own.

“Vale, not today, but I will and you won’t get to stop me then” she holds the back of your head as she explains, bringing you into another quick hug. “They need to know what they’re doing is cruel” 

You roll your eyes at her wording, but nod along as you open the door and walk in with your sister behind you. 

“Good game chicas” you clap your hands only to be met with silence until one of them looks up and squeals at Alexia’s arrival. 

You thought most of them already had their fair share of time with her outside but even now they surround her, turning a blind eye to your presence. 

With another huff you get changed quickly and shove the last of your things into your backpack. Alexia tries but fails at hiding her annoyance at the team’s behavior and when she sees you about to exit she shrugs off the rest of the girls lingering around and with a half-sincere apology she’s out the door.

Patri stares at the now closed door in confusion. “What just happened?” 

“I don’t know, but nice goal you scored today” Aitana shrugs as she praises the brunette. Patri looks at her.

“I didn’t score a goal.” 

“Yes you did.” Some of the girls turn to the two as they continue.

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, the 40th minute! Don’t you remember?” Aitana looks to the others for confirmation but they shrug.

“That wasn’t Patri, it was Y/N’s goal” Mapi corrects the two, angrily gritting through her teeth. 

“Oh” 

“Yeah, oh” the blonde bites back.

“Mapi-” Ingrid tries but is cut off by Nuria.

“What about the one after half time?”

“That was also Y/N” Irene joins, wondering just how blind the girls have been. Nothing more is said as the girls go back to changing, sensing the obvious tension in the air. 

The next day you have recovery day with the team and as you finish up the last of it you enter the locker room to find most of the team there already. They pay you no mind as you take a seat, though as the minutes tick by Pina finally looks up from her phone. 

“Y/N!” you’d be stupid to think she’s happy because she’s noticed you. “Alexia is coming today, right?”

“Yeah, she said she would!” Bruna adds excitedly and more of the girls turn to you, waiting for an answer.

“Yep, a bit later though” you confirm, not meeting any of their eyes as you change your socks.

“She must be here already then, no?” you glance up at that, sighing at the eager expressions you’re met with. “Could you get her? You know she will come in earlier if it’s her sister asking.” Jana’s words are accompanied with nods from around the room and as you stand with an annoyed huff you only hear one voice thanking you. 

You wander down the corridors towards where your sister was just finishing her rehab session but as you walk the hallways you can’t help but get lost in your thoughts again. 

You didn’t understand what more you had to prove to the team to be accepted by them, to not be as transparent. It seemed that no matter what you did they were only interested in you when it was about your sister. Alexia this, Alexia that. Will we get to see Alexia today? Is Alexia going to be at the game? It’s never, hey Y/N how are you? Or a simple bon dia. Nothing.

You did worry less about your performance however. 

Before, you had compared your every touch of the ball to the way your sister would have done it, wondering if the way you were playing would be even close to her excellence. But the number of times your name has appeared on the scoresheets assures you that you were definitely doing something right, you weren’t only here because of who your sister is. 

You patiently wait outside the gray door after knocking and soon one of the physios greets you with a smile. 

“Hola, is Alexia here?” you ask, politely smiling at him. He nods as he lets you into the room, having recognized you.

“Someone’s genes are strong” he lowly whistles as you approach your sister but the two of you only send him another nod, eyebrows raised. 

“Estás bien, pequeña? Why are you looking for me?” the brunette looks down at you with a tilt of her head.

 “The girls told me to come get you, they wanna see you” you inform her as you lean into her side, needing some comfort from your older sister. Her nails graze the skin of your arm as she lightly moves her hand up and down.

“But I would’ve come anyway” she furrows her eyebrows, sighing at the way her team was behaving. You shrug at her, not saying more. Thankfully her session did just end and so the two of you walk back the way you’ve come and you tell her about how recovery has been before you get to the entrance of the locker room. Alexia abruptly stops in front of the door, effectively stopping you from reaching for the handle as she holds onto your shoulders.

“Why don’t you get that ankle of yours checked out, have it strapped.” she gestures to the ankle you’ve hurt during yesterday’s game. You study her for a second before agreeing and with a kiss on her cheek you leave towards the physios. She didn’t want you hearing what she would come next. Alexia exhales as you round the corner and disappear out of her sight before pushing the door in and entering. 

Enthusiastic yells are soon silenced by the look on her face. She’s wearing a hard scowl, her jaw set and fists clenched. Her eyes are sharp as she looks over the people in front of her, Mapi watching her with her own arms crossed over her chest. She has been waiting for this moment, wondering just how long your sister would wait before going off on the team. 

The team holds their breath as Alexia takes a ragged breath, they’ve never seen her so angry.

“What the fuck is wrong with all of you!” she explodes, and suddenly she’s forgotten all about you asking her to handle it maturely, but how could she do that when they’ve been hurting her baby sister?  Her pent up aggression comes out as she starts, many of the girls’ eyes widening at her tone. 

“What you’ve been doing to my sister is unacceptable! The way you’ve been behaving makes me question if we are a team!” She rages on, making sure to hold eye contact with each and every person as she catches her breath. A second later multiple voices ring out as they try to argue her words but she’s having none of it.

“Enough!” she shouts, a slap echoing throughout the room as she smacks the surface of the door with a spare shirt. They stand, like soldiers waiting for what would come next, beyond frightened by their captain’s rage. “I have seen enough. I have heard enough. You guys, all of you treat Y/N like she’s nothing! Not an ounce of respect in you for her, any of you!” her eyes connect with Mapi, assuring her that she’s not included in this. She had, after all, been the only one to treat you like a person. 

“What does someone have to do to prove their worth? To be included? You all throw her away like she’s some useless rag and I will not have that, especially not when it’s my little sister.” she takes a breath to calm down, her head pounding from all the frustration she just let out and the remaining still in her. The girls cower back into their seats as they realize how they’ve been acting towards you.

 “I am beyond disappointed in this team for making a teammate, you hear that? A teammate feels worthless, because you’ve neglected her even when she’s doing everything in her power to satisfy you all.” 

“I agree, she’s done nothing but show how good she is on the field.” Irene adds that though Alexia is not looking for anyone’s approval, far beyond the point of caring, nevertheless, she does give the woman a nod for backing her up.

“She is insanely talented, without question better than I was at her age. She’s got the passing accuracy down to the millimeters, she shoots goals like no one else on this team and dios mío, she can dribble past all ten players and then finish perfectly!” Alexia throws her hands up in exasperation. 

“She does get us a lot of goals.” Claudia admits quietly.

“And she’s super good at outsmarting defenders” Jana agrees, having experienced your skills firsthand.

 “Yes she's a great player, but she's also a person with feelings and all of you have been ignoring that part.” Your sister concludes as the girls look down shamefully.

“That part too.” Mapi nods, angrily chewing on a piece of gum. The team stays quiet, each of them replaying their interactions with you and chastising themselves for how harsh they’ve been, how uncaring they were.

“We’re really sorry” a chorus of voices say and Alexia nods at that in understanding, finally unclenching her fists.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to” she shakes her head, flashing the team another disappointed look. “Tomorrow, one by one -I'll make sure, you will all apologize to her. I want actual sorrys not half-assed ones because I asked you to.” she points through the girls who eagerly nod at her, many of them already thinking of ways to show you how much they regret their behavior.

The midfielder does not say goodbye as she slams the door behind her to punctuate all she’s said, though she did make sure to let Mapi know she doesn’t blame her too. 

By the time Alexia gets to the physios room you’re already putting your shoe back on, animatedly conversing with the physio who’s sharing his own stories just as enthusiastically. She smiles at the interaction, happy to see you content even after a day of people ignoring you, people who were supposed to be your friends.

You jump in your seat in surprise when her hand squeezes your shoulder, but you hop off the table with another beaming smile. You wave goodbye to the physio before holding onto Alexia’s waist as you exit the training facility, herself pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Alba and I are taking you out for sushi tonight.” she informs you with a smile as you sit in the driver’s seat of her car. You were still adamant on not letting her drive, you didn’t want her to hurt her knee in any way.

“How come?” 

“We’ve just missed you and besides, sushi is always good” she chuckles when you nod.

“Yeah and I’m always hungry” you cast a glance her way as you pull out of the parking lot of the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

 “And I’ve missed you guys too” you admit, a confession that warms your sister's heart. Of course the three of you have seen each other almost everyday, especially you and Alexia, but you missed hanging out with them. You missed how peaceful your mind was when you were with your family. 

Alexia stares ahead at the road as you drive the two of you home, forever grateful to have sisters like you and Alba. And you’re forever grateful for your big sisters, both who’d protect and love you no matter what.

It was now only your team’s job to recognize just how much they’ve hurt you and try to rebuild their relationships with you. No one was going to cross you again, not if Alexia could have a say in it.

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's disappearance (Part 2)

PART 2 IS HERE WOOOH!!! Thank you all so much for the support on part 1, I really appreciate it, and it really helps with the motivation to create more! Part 3 will either come later today, or tomorrow! We'll see. After you read, feel free to let me know what you think! It's a shorter part today, sorry!!

Part 1

-----

A lot can happen in 7 years. Eventually, even the best memories become faded and blurry. Franklin’s passing in the recent extermination was a devastating blow to Rosie, but she could not falter in her duties as the overlord of Cannibal Town. Her people needed help cleaning up the disaster the exorcist angels had left, after all.

A week or so had passed since the last extermination, and everything was still a mess. Rosie sat on her couch with an exasperated sigh after a long day, tuning the radio in front of her to the channel 666 News. The new radio she had bought was quite unique. There was a circular screen right above the knobs that could show any channel, like a TV, but was only capable of showing black and white video. Her stomach twisted in faint guilt, knowing Alastor would’ve never approved of such a thing. But that didn’t matter, he wasn’t here.

The small screen flickered as the logo 666 NEWS disappeared in flames as quickly as it came, revealing the two hosts, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench.

“Well Tom, it seems everyone in Hell is shitting their pants as new information about the extermination comes to light!” the hostess exclaimed dramatically. The man next to her attempted to speak but was immediately shushed. “Our sources tell us that the extermination dates have been changed, and will from now on arrive every 6 months! HA! We are so FUCKED!”

Rosie froze at the news, her heart dropping to her stomach. “No, no, it couldn’t be.” Her words were quieter than a whisper. She didn’t believe it. Her cannibals barely survived the attack as it is, but now that it had doubled in frequency, who knows what would happen to them?

Suddenly, she heard panicked screams come from outside the emporium—she figured her people would find out soon enough—and she stood up from the couch to make a much-needed announcement.

Walking outside, the people of Cannibal Town were assembled in the square, surrounding a white gazebo that already had a microphone in place. They waited desperately for Rosie’s arrival. She walked up to the gazebo and held the mic by its stand. For the first time in a long time, Rosie felt slight stage fright, seeing so many people looking to her for some sort of comfort.

“Attention cannibals and cannibettes, I’m sure you’ve all heard of the recent change in extermination dates… Please, do not worry your little heads about a thing! I will handle everything. I believe I have a meeting with the rest of the overlords of Hell scheduled soon, my colleagues and I will discuss it. Until then, I want you all to stay put and continue as normal. Thank you, that is all.”

The cannibals were quiet for a moment, ever so slightly disappointed in what she had to say, but they knew better than to question Rosie, especially right after Franklin’s death. Rosie locked eyes with Susan, who looked like she was about to start yelling out her usual annoying nonsense; Surprisingly, she didn’t say a word.

As Rosie prepared to make her leave, she heard a voice in the sea of faces yell, “Miss Rosie, were you aware of the rumor going around about the return of the Radio Demon?” Suddenly, the crowd burst into murmurs of agreement, all talking about Alastor’s alleged return.

“Some say he’s in cahoots with the princess of Hell, to help run that little hotel of hers!” another voice called out.

Rosie listened with little care, waving her hand as if to shoo away their words. “People, please. Thousands of rumors have surfaced since Alastor’s disappearance. What makes you believe this one to be true? Unfortunately, he is gone.” She paused, her own words leaving a faint sting. She shook her head in mild frustration at herself, she had gotten over that fact a long time ago— or so she believed.

-----

Rosie exited the glass elevator, giving a small nod to a fellow overlord as they crossed paths. Rosie had attended hundreds of meetings before, this was all very familiar to her. She began to make her way into the office when something—no, someone—caught her eye. Without warning, all the feelings she had tucked away, all her sadness, and all her frustration, had returned, causing her heart to ache painfully. She couldn’t show that here, though. Not now, while surrounded by a dozen other overlords.

Rosie continued her walk, trying to ignore the slight shake of nervousness in her body as she sat down. She felt someone move behind her, and then sit down right beside her. She stole a quick glance, it was him. The damned bastard who left without warning. Alastor.

-----

[fatkish]

well hello there i just what to say i love the righting and 2 as u can see i suck at spelling so im sorry. and 3 i wish to know if u could do some mha angst like maybe like kiribaku x adhd reader where like bakugo dosen't mean tell reader to stop talking so fast or to like sit properly and stop moving there leg (i kinda want both cuz i get told that alot but u pick) but then kiri comes home and bakugos is sleeping on the couch and next day, kiri makes bakugo apologises and see how he was wrong. but its up to u. like reader could be overstimulated and cant stop moving. or sumth its up to u but thx for replying if u do don't feel like u need to tho byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Kirishima x Bakugou x Reader Drabble

It was that time of year again. Exams were getting closer and you and Kirishima needed help studying for them. So you both asked your shared boyfriend Bakugou, to help you guys study. Due to your ADHD, you typically take you tests in a different room alone with one of the teachers, that’s because it’s easier for you to focus when there’s less possible distractions. Due to your constant fidgeting, the school has allowed for you to keep a small exercise cycle underneath your desk. This device is similar to an exercise bike with its pedals, but it’s smaller and made to be used when sitting. The cycle is considered a learning tool for you since it allows you to fidget while disturbing as little people as possible.

Sadly, you can’t bring it everywhere with you, if you could then that incident wouldn’t have happened. You and Kirishima had begged Bakugou to help you guys study, so you three went to a cafe. Of course, your Boyfriends knew of your ADHD and how it affected you. They knew that it could only be managed so much, it wasn’t something that could be completely controlled and that it’s something you struggle with. While Bakugou was trying to help you both study, you kept getting distracted by everything and you wouldn’t stop shaking your leg, causing the booth to vibrate.

As you would point out things that you saw that you noticed like someone’s hairstyle or a band t-shirt someone was wearing, Bakugou was starting to get fed up with your inability to focus. You were sitting next to him in the same booth and your constant leg shaking was vibrating the seat and it was driving him crazy. After 1 hour and 30 minutes of your constant interruptions and leg bouncing, Bakugou was at his wit’s end.

“Goddamnit you spacey fuck, can’t you concentrate for more than a couple fucking seconds?!?! And will you fucking quit bouncing your goddamn leg. It’s so fucking damn annoying!” The moment Bakugou registered what he just shouted at you, he realized how much he messed up. You looked at him with watery eyes before your face changed to one of anger.

“I’m leaving” you got up and left the cafe, leaving behind a sorrowful Kirishima and a sorry Bakugou. Bakugou knew he had messed up the moment the words left his mouth. Before Kirishima could say anything Bakugou spoke.

“I know, I know, I messed up and I need to apologize. Don’t worry, I will.”

Kirishima could only look at Bakugou in slight disappointment before he went back to studying.

The next day at school, Kirishima pulled Bakugou aside in the hall outside the classroom and demanded that he apologize to you. Bakugou knew he messed up and was already planning out how he was going to apologize. As they walked into the classroom, they saw you scribbling away in one of your doodle journals. Since most students weren’t in the classroom yet, Bakugou decided to apologize then and there. He walked over and grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you into the hallway.

“Look, I’m sorry ‘bout what I said yesterday. I was just pissed and I took it out on you.” He mumbled just quite enough for you to hear.

“It’s okay, I know I forgot to bring a fidget and I’ve been trying to manage my symptoms better. I just have to work harder but I appreciate the apology”

“Yeah yeah just shut up” Bakugou muttered as he looked away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

So, to follow up on this post that I just made that details my thoughts on the Taskmaster s18 lineup: Jack Dee, Rosie Jones, Emma Sidi, and Babatunde Aléshé...

I’m totally kidding! Obviously I’m totally kidding. Obviously. Obviously I was kidding in that entire post, suggesting that I give one fuck who those other four people are. It doesn't matter! Obviously in reality, seats 2-5 of Taskmaster s18 could be filled by Leo Kearse, Jim Davidson, Jordan Peterson, and Suella Braverman, and I’d still consider this to be a fantastic lineup.

Okay. Finally, after several weeks of losing my God damn mind, sitting on the spoilers and being good about not mentioning it (mostly…), I can say this. Finally.

Let’s talk Zaltzman.

First of all, let me set the scene. I've just finished my work for the day. I'm waiting in the break room while my co-worker files her stuff so we can close up the building together. I check my phone, because it's Taskmaster lineup spoiler day, and I've been waiting on confirmation.

I read the words and drop my phone in amazement, scrambling to catch it before it hits the ground. I look again, trying to make 100% sure I am reading this right, because I refuse to get my hopes up that high just to be disappointed. No, it says what I thought it said. I jump up, bang my fist against my chest and then into the air and then back again, mutter “fuck yes fucking right holy fuck” under my breath repeatedly, and then look around and am pleased to see my co-worker has not come into the room. And then I’m not allowed to post about it for several fucking weeks.

Andy was top of my wishlist. Possibly the number one person on it even if I could have literally anyone, including the people who definitely wouldn’t do it. He was definitely the number one person on my Taskmaster wishlist, out of the people who would possibly ever do it. But I wasn’t sure he belonged on that second list. Every time I’ve posted about a Taskmaster wishlist in the last couple of years, I’ve said of course Andy Zaltzman’s number one, but I know it won’t happen.

I know Taskmaster casts people who aren't already TV famous, but they're usually young. Taskmaster casts older people who are well established in a TV career, and young up-and-comers. Not people who turn 50 this year and did an episode of 8 Out of 10 Cats one time in 2008.

I mean, Andy Zaltzman isn’t completely obscure. It’s now been several years since he took over as host of The News Quiz, which I think is Radio 4’s flagship comedy program. The Bugle has been going for nearly 17 years and is quite successful. It’s not fair to imply that 2008 was his last TV credit; he was on Alternative Comedy Experience in 2013, where he had some chats with Stewart Lee that are among the most socially awkward things I’ve ever seen in my life. Sometimes they let him on TV in Australia. He did Matt Forde’s TV thing a few times. He does actually have a very successful career as a cricket statistician/commentator. He wrote for Bremner, Bird and Fortune in 2006. He’s doing fine. He's doing absolutely fine.

And he has an impressive stand-up career. He's done tours in the States, off the back of The Bugle's international success. He's performed in Asia off the back of his cricket commentating popularity. He's sold out big rooms to hordes of Bugle fans.

Taskmaster has cast lots of people who were less famous at the time of casting than Andy Zaltzman is now. They're just not usually Andy Zaltzman's age. But it doesn't matter, he's there now. So let me tell you about this man.

Andrew Zechariah Zaltzman was born on October 6, 1974. He grew up in Tumbridge Wells, Kent, a place he has described as so right-wing that they think you're a bit of a leftie if you only cast one Tory vote per general election. Raised by his father Zechariah "Zack" Zaltzman, who was a sculptor and a Lithuanian lapsed Jew who grew up in South Africa. Along with his sister Helen and brother Rick. I don't know his mother's name and it's probably fine to keep it that way, as I'm pretty sure Andy Zaltzman attracts a lot of fans like me, who have my combination of information-gathering autism and a good memory, that means I did not have to do any Googling to write that paragraph. I could have included the name of his school without Googling just because I've read his Wikipedia page so much, but I'll refrain from doing that.

To be fair, it's not some obscure piece of trivia to know his sister's name, because Helen Zaltzman is one of the only people in Britain who's had a podcast for longer than Andy. Podcasting was quite new when The Bugle started, but Helen started her podcast Answer Me This just before it. Helen Zaltzman's not technically a comedian, but she's quite comedy-adjacent, her podcasts are funny and she's been in plays at the Edinburgh Festival. Hangs out with comedians. Was friends with Josie Long at Oxford, so that's pretty cool. Used to be flatmates with comedy flatshare expert Matthew Crosby. Did an episode of ComComPod.

Anyway, after being raised with a future comedy-adjacent podcaster, Andy went to study Classics at Oxford University, where he also worked for the sports page of the student newspaper. It was here that he discovered his love of made-up bullshit, as he once wrote an entirely fictitious article about a game that never happened. When told they couldn't print it because it was libellous, Andy tried to argue that he hadn't libelled anyone because none of the people he wrote about in that article exist. Andy Zaltzman swears that story is true, and I think it probably is.

Andy Zaltzman did one stand-up gig at university that went very badly, then didn't do any stand-up for a bit, and then eventually did some more gigs that went less badly. Ended up in the finals of So You Think You’re Funny in 1999, where he lost to David O’Doherty (other finalists included Jimmy Carr, Russell Howard, and Josie Long, the latter of whom beat David O’Doherty in the BBC New Comedy Awards in the same year, a year of traded victories that they still amusingly and adorably reference on social media sometimes).

Andy Zaltzman got in with Avalon management, and in 2000, he went back to Edinburgh as part of The Comedy Zone. Also in 2000, he supported Stewart Lee on a stand-up tour around the UK. A lot of the venues were not told that there would be a support act and couldn’t fit him in at the last minute, so essentially, it was less like doing tour support and more like Andy just followed Stewart Lee around the country for a few weeks. Stewart Lee got so exhausted by the effort of trying to hang out with someone as socially awkward as Andy Zaltzman that he quit stand-up for several years (that’s a joke, but he did actually quit – eventually going back to stand-up but never back to his agency – because he got frustrated with Avalon on that tour, largely because they kept doing things like failing to tell venues that he was bringing a support act). In 2005, Stewart Lee returned to stand-up, and shared a flat at the Edinburgh Festival with Andy Zaltzman that year. Across the next 15 years, Stewart Lee took several opportunities to marvel at how it was possible for one person to watch as much sport as Andy Zaltzman did, when on tour and in Edinburgh flats.

In 2001, Andy did his first full-length Edinburgh show, called Andy Zaltzman Versus the Dog of Doom, which got nominated for the Perrier Newcomer Award. It was mainly a solo show, and billed as a solo show, but it featured a few bits with a man he'd met on the stand-up circuit named John Oliver, who was performing in The Comedy Zone. In 2002, Andy went back to Edinburgh with a show called Andy Zaltzman Unveils the 2002 Catapult of Truth, which also featured bits of John Oliver. John did his debut solo hour that year as well, a show that Chortle’s Steve Bennett called “a fairly pointless concept, which is then tiresomely illustrated”. Clearly, John made the correct choice in deciding that in future years, he’d stick to the stuff with Zaltzman.

In 2003, Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver began writing more comedy together, and were both specifically interested in political comedy. They found this could be difficult on mixed bill gigs where the audience hadn’t come for political comedy, and wouldn’t take well to all the dating and travel mishap stories being interrupted by satire on the colonial immigration process. So they started a comedy night in London called Political Animal, where they would co-host with their own jointly-written political jokes, introducing other comedians who would do exclusively political material. This allowed them to perform to audiences who would get what they were expecting, and it led to them being chased off stage less often (okay, their stories about those years of terrible gigs only include one where they got literally chased off stage). Comedians who performed at Political Animal included Robert Newman, Al Murray, Stewart Lee, Jeremy Hardy, Daniel Kitson, Chris Addison, Frankie Boyle, Andrew Maxwell, Will Hodgson, and don’t worry about the other name on the list from which I've copied this (it was one of those Russells they have now, and by far the worst of the three, despite the other two’s flaws).

On these early Political Animal nights, Zaltzman and Oliver used to do a sketch in which they'd interact with God. If Daniel Kitson was part of the show that night, he'd join them for that sketch and Kitson would play the role of God, which is a little on the nose even for him.

They did Political Animal once a month in London for several years, and also took it to Edinburgh for quite a few years in a row. In 2005, they recorded a pilot for BBC Radio 4, a radio show that would broadcast highlights of each act in a Political Animal night, interspersed with little Zaltzman and Oliver sketches. This got picked up and ran for two seasons, ten episodes in total.

In Edinburgh 2003, Zaltzman and Oliver did Edinburgh and Beyond, a mixed bill with each other and Rob Deering. Some of Andy’s material from that show can be heard in the Radio 4 program 4 at the Fringe. It opens with “Are you all glad to be alive? About half of you. Good. Aren’t festivals fun?” Then he goes into a complex explanation of how King Harold threw the Battle of Hastings and he has proof. This also contains the earliest known recording of Andy Zaltzman's classic joke about how voters' commitment to apathy is a paradox.

Then he says the words: “There are more celebrities now than ever before, in the world. There are also more facts in the world than ever before, and that’s just one of them. There are more celebrities now, and if the current rate of the increase in celebrities now continues, then by the year 2052, celebrities will outnumber ordinary people. And if that continues then by 2142, 99% of the world’s population will be celebrities. At which point the market will implode, and all celebrities will be merged into one giant celebrity, known as God. And the process will start again from scratch. Only this time, God will make the differences between men and women even funnier, and comedians will be the most powerful race on Earth. And after a savage and brutal war between the observationalists and the surrealists, into the power vacuum will come the singing comedians, and the world’s only currency will be amusingly altered pop lyrics. So please, be careful.” And you can begin to see why audiences occasionally chased him off stages. I don’t know what John Oliver was doing with his portion of that shared 2003 bill. Probably some stuff about penguins, given what he was into at the time. He was also very busy ripping cows apart that year. 2003 was a big year for people giving John Oliver large facsimile animals that he did not want and making him deal with them.

In 2004, Zaltzman and Oliver decided to stop messing around with little sketches in each other's shows, and just do the joint stand-up hour that the world had been waiting for. They went to Edinburgh with a show called Zaltzman and Oliver’s Erm... It's About the World... I Think You'd Better Sit Down, which is a hell of a title. They filled in a questionnaire about it for the BBC, which is a lovely little relic. If you want to know what Zaltzman and Oliver were doing during the Edinburgh Festival in 2004:

What will you be doing with the other 23 hrs of the day? JO: I will assign around 8 of those hours for sleep. I'll try and eat three times, spaced out in the time remaining. I will insult my flatmate for a further 3 of those hours. And I will think about sport for the rest of the time. AZ: Table tennis.

(Note: I'm 95% sure the flatmate John Oliver was going to insult for three hours a day is Daniel Kitson.)

They took the show on tour the following year, including performing it one time in 2005 with someone recording the audio. They didn't do anything with that audio until about six years later, when they released it during a filler week for The Bugle. It contains many of their classic joint bits, like the immigration sketch and the state of political discourse sketch.

In 2005, they did another joint Edinburgh show, called John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman Issue a List of Demands and Await Your Response with Interest. Not big fans of titles that fit easily into blurbs. This show unfortunately has been lost to history, or at least, it had better be lost to history, because at this point I will be furious if it turns out Andy Zaltzman has a recording of it somewhere and has been holding out on us all this time (not really, please let me know if you have this, Andy, I would pay you money). Steve Bennett called it: "As a double act [Zaltzman and Oliver] bring out the best of Zaltzman’s towering intellect and Oliver’s  sneery cynicism, feeding off each other’s presence." Which is a pretty solid summary of their double act dynamic in general.

I know there are reviewers besides Steve Bennett, by the way. But Chortle, for all its other admin-related faults, does archive its reviews in a way that makes old ones easy to find, so it tends to be my go-to reference for times like this. I have read other old Zaltzman and Oliver reviews, and a lot of them can be basically summarized as "They have good, intelligent, and funny material, but God, those guys can be really annoying." Brian Logan called them "Better writers than performers", which is maybe technically true but also he can fuck off. We like the socially awkward lack of charisma, okay?

Anyway. Back on topic. While they were establishing their live double act, Zaltzman and Oliver also teamed up with their friend, the excellent comedian Chris Addison, to write a radio show called The Department. This is a fictional show set in a secret government department that secretly runs the entire world, and they spend each episode solving a different problem. It ran on BBC Radio 4 for three seasons and 14 episodes in total, from 2004 to 2006. It featured a bunch of old Zaltzman and Oliver stand-up bits, shoehorned expertly into the mouths of the characters. Zaltzman, Oliver, and Addison co-wrote it and played the three main characters (except Addison didn't write season 3 as he was busy with other projects, but he still did the voice acting), with the other major character being voiced by Matthew Holness, and Lucy Montgomery doing some additional voices (Matthew and Lucy were both in Cambridge Footlights with John Oliver a few years earlier).

They hoped The Department would translate to TV someday, but that didn't happen. Even as late as ten years later, Andy Zaltzman, according to one uncharacteristically vulnerable interview, was still holding out hope that it could someday get picked up as a TV sitcom. John Oliver, on the other hand, said years later that he looked back on The Department as something that wasn't any good. John is, in my accurate opinion, entirely wrong about that. There are some old Zaltzman and Oliver things that I can recognize were objectively not great comedy, I just like them as adorable historical relics. The Department is not like that. I think it was a really, really funny and well written show. It had good characters and dense jokes and I wish it had become more.

These were the glory years of Zaltzman and Oliver. The Department on the radio, joint stand-up shows, hosting mixed bill stuff at Political Animal. But that double act was just a small subset of a larger group called the Chocolate Milk Gang. The Chocolate Milk Gang was an international crime syndicate that sometimes organized soccer matches, to borrow a phrase from John Oliver (John was talking about FIFA when he said it, but it still applies). You can see one of these matches in The Greatest Video on All of YouTube, featuring a lot of comedians who are hard to recognize because it's got about 8 pixels per inch, but you can always pick out Andy with his curly red hair, and John Oliver as the only one wearing long pants instead of shorts. I'm definitely not going to go look at the building where they filmed that video when I go to London this summer. That would be a weird thing to do. I mean I can't confirm whether I'm going to do that, but I will say that one time on his radio show I heard Elis James say Crystal Palace isn't a tourist attraction, and I laughed and said "That's what you think."

Anyway, the Chocolate Milk Gang was actually a bunch of comedians who were all friends in the early 00s, they frequently appeared in each other's stand-up shows (and occasionally radio shows and things like that), told stories about each other on stage, played football on Tuesdays, shared mixed bills, ritualistically sacrificed cows together in the middle of the night, things like that. They got their name because they drank alcohol either not at all or not very much, and after late-night Edinburgh shows they'd go for milkshakes while other comedians were getting drunk, so some of those other comedians started calling them the Chocolate Milk Gang. Glenn Wool has been specifically credited with coining the term, Andrew Maxwell and Jason Byrne were also said to be involved. An absolute cunt who goes by David McSavage was a dick about it. Basically they were a bunch of nerds who got bullied by the Irish and Canadians (not really, they've said they were on friendly terms with those guys and it was friendly banter, except for David McSavage, who is genuinely a cunt). They go by other names sometimes. Stewart Lee apparently used to call them "The Hanging Around Guys".

Further information can be found in the weirdest fucking article I've ever read (on the subject of me knowing about reviewers besides just Steve Bennett - Jay Richardson, what were you fucking talking about?), but basically, they were known for differentiating themselves from a previous generation of showbiz shouty fancy comedians, by doing things like wearing t-shirts and listening to indie music and putting a modicum of creativity into their art and not being alcoholics. Membership lists for the Chocolate Milk Gang changes depending who you ask, but the main people involved, in general, were: Josie Long, John Oliver, Andy Zaltzman, Alun Cochrane, Russell Howard, David O'Doherty, Gavin Osborn, Demitri Martin, Flight of the Conchords. Taika Waititi - Cohen at the time - is sometimes mentioned in that mix. Isy Suttie was definitely around and fit the remit. And Daniel Kitson was their, according to those weird fucking articles about it, king.

To get that list of people, I've taken the name that Glenn Wool invented for people who got milkshakes in Edinburgh, and applied it to a slightly more general concept. Not everyone on that list got milkshakes in Edinburgh in 2002, but most did, and all were part of a larger group of nerds doing comedy who crossed over with each other personally and professionally in that era, which is generally what I mean when I say "Chocolate Milk Gang".

Andy largely ended up in this group because his writing and performing partner, John Oliver, was so close to the ringleader/king Daniel Kitson. John Oliver and Daniel Kitson had repeatedly described each other as best friends. John also brought in Gavin Osborn, his friend from school and/or youth theatre. Gavin was flatmates with John's girlfriend for a time. Basically, John Oliver tied all these people in his life together, and then he fucked off to America, leaving the rest of them behind to keep making stuff with each other. Which they did, but managing it without John in the middle clearly wasn't always their first choice. The number of Chocolate Milk Gang members who have performed art that I have heard on the subject of how it upset them when John Oliver left is... more than three. It's four. I'm thinking of four specific pieces of work right now, though to be fair one of them is just Andy Zaltzman shouting the words "Percy Primetime" at an audience (the others are a song about mix tapes, a show about an apartment that I'm definitely not going to go look at when I fly to London because Crystal Palace isn't a tourist attraction, and a song about a penguin). That's a lot, really. People really, really liked that guy.

Zaltzman and Kitson in particular were a funny combination; whenever they used to end up on stages (or in a radio studio) together, there would be this strong sense of "your best friend is my best friend but God, do we ever have nothing else in common". But they'd give performing together a go, even though Andy Zaltzman is the most socially awkward man in history and has chemistry with no one on Earth except John Oliver. Neither of them seem to "get" the other's comedy in any way, or find much crossover in what they found funny. They shared a flat together in Edinburgh in 2007, where they wrote a sketch for Late 'n' Live in which Andy would pretend to be Daniel Kitson's penis, so that's fun. Andy Zaltzman had a set of about four deliberately bad impressions, which seemed to be the only part of his act that Kitson found funny, but Kitson found them hilarious and made Andy do them every time they performed together.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm trying to tell this story chronologically, and I've moved right past what Andy Zaltzman has referred to as: “The day in June 2006 when [John Oliver] told me he wanted to do the Daily Show job in America instead of going with me to Edinburgh to talk to twenty-five people a day in a darkened room.”

At the time, Zaltzman and Oliver were in the process of writing their third joint stand-up hour, for Edinburgh 2006. This show had already been submitted to the festival, as evidenced by some screenshots of the 2006 Edinburgh program:

The 2006 Edinburgh program also advertised:

And it was the debut year for the Chocolate Milk Gang mixed bill Honourable Men of Art, also already in the program with John's name:

According to Andy Zaltzman, in June 2006, he learned three things very close together, on almost the same day. The first thing he learned is that the BBC had cancelled The Department. This radio show was the only consistent thing Andy had going in his career besides live stand-up. He was counting on The Department getting bigger and maybe picked up for TV, so losing it was a significant blow. The second thing he learned, at almost the same time, was that his wife was carrying their first child. And the third thing he learned was that John Oliver was going to move to America right before their Edinburgh run was set to begin. Andy Zaltzman has described June/July 2006 as not a particularly fun time (John Oliver, on the other hand, has described summer 2006 as the time he lost his radio show and thought his career was fucked, so it's a good thing The Daily Show job came along to save him, because otherwise he'd have ended up stuck in the career path he was on in England, which was terrible, it sure would suck to have to stay on that path).

Andy Zaltzman has even said that if it hadn't been for his marriage and having a kid on the way, he might have moved to New York with John to try to keep performing as a double act, since he didn't have enough of a career in Britain to be worth staying for, and all the success he'd had had come from the Zaltzman and Oliver partnership.

I see why Andy Zaltzman found that partnership and briefly considered whether it might be worth moving across an ocean to preserve it. They worked so well together. They got each other's style of comedy, they were similar enough to fit together but different in the right ways to complement each other. They had incredible chemistry together, of the type that Andy had with, as I've said, no one else in the world. Andy had had to start his own comedy night (Political Animal) just because his style was so offbeat that it didn't fit in on regular mixed bills and it annoyed audiences who hadn't come for that specific niche, and the Zaltzman/Oliver double act saved him from having to sell that niche by himself. He was, as he describes it, not excited to have to go back to doing it alone.

He was also not excited to have to turn their double act Edinburgh show into a solo show at the last minute. But he did it, going to Edinburgh 2006 and performing a show called Andy Zaltzman Detonates 70 Minutes of Unbridled Afternoon ("It's important work Zaltzman is doing, at least compared to most other comics, and deserves to be heard ­ if only he was a bit more fluid in its telling" - Steve Bennett, 2006). I guess it's a better title than Andy Zaltzman Goes By Himself to Edinburgh to Talk to Twenty-Five People a Day in a Darkened Room. In Edinburgh 2006, Andy also hosted Political Animal on his own, and turned up to Honourable Men of Art, where they occasionally had John Oliver via the best live video linkup technology 2006 had to offer.

After this, Andy Zaltzman spent a year performing on his own. In 2007 he performed at MICF for the first time, where one time he stayed up all night in a radio studio with Daniel Kitson, playing BBC sound effects and Boney M songs, and Daniel made him do his Marvin Gaye impression. He also went on the Triple M radio show Get This, and was very socially awkward. Then he won the Piece of Wood Award for having other comics vote his show the best one, so that's cool. Clearly he must have been doing something all right, in a year that he's since described in interviews as very rough overall.

And then he was approached by TimesOnline, a subdivision of The Times, to start a trans-Atlantic podcast. The idea was that John Oliver would go into a studio in New York City, and Andy Zaltzman would go into a studio in London, and they would talk to each other about the week's news, and someone would produce and edit it, and that would be a newfangled thing called a podcast. Like the thing that Andy's sister Helen had just started doing. Andy Zaltzman said yes because, in his words, he had "Jack K. Shit" else going on and it was a chance to reunite the double act that had been working for him. John Oliver said yes because, in his words, it is a treat to get to listen to Andy Zaltzman talk for an hour a week. I think John meant it when he said that, because John Oliver had a very good and very busy job as a writer and correspondent on The Daily Show at the time, in addition to a stand-up career in the States and an increasing schedule of events with major American comics, so it's not like he took the Bugle job because he needed the money or the profile boost. I think he really did consider it a treat to listen to Andy Zaltzman talk for an hour a week. And what a treat that is.

They set up a format in which they'd talk on the phone for a bit earlier in the week, to establish a list of topical subjects to cover. Then they'd go away and each write their own material on those subjects. Then on Fridays, they'd connect from their separate studios and discuss the subjects with their material ready. The best bits made it into their respective stand-up shows.

From the beginning, they both contributed a lot to the podcast, but Andy drove the dialogue and tended to come a little more prepared, as is reasonable, given that John Oliver had other shit going on. The Bugle ran in its original form from October 2007 to March 2016, and in that time, Andy Zaltzman turned over an incredible amount of material. It is honestly amazing how much new stuff he came up with every week. Yeah, he had some ideas and concepts that he re-used, and yeah, not 100% of it was solid gold. But a lot of it was very funny. Funny, dense comedy that was new every single week.

Andy Zaltzman is the most creative comedian I've ever heard. I mean, obviously I guess that depends on your definition of "creative", I've seen some comedy shows where it's so creative that I have no idea what's going on (these are called "clowning"). But within the parametres of just writing straightforward stand-up material, I have never heard anything as creative as Andy Zaltzman. He hits a topic from so many directions that no one else would think of. He reaches for absurd comparisons, turns of phrase that make me run back the recording because I could never catch all the meanings at once, five or six different jokes embedded into one sentence. The number of obscure references to history and/or sport and/or Greek mythology (he didn't study Classics for nothing) he can get into any paragraph is blinding. He's fucking amazing.

More than that, The Bugle with Zaltzman and Oliver was an amazing piece of media. It is incredible how they blended interactivity with tightly written material. Comedians riffing with each other is fun because it feels real and immediate and unrehearsed. Carefully written stuff is good because writing something with care gives comedians the time to make it funnier. The Bugle was Zaltzman and Oliver taking their jokes that they'd crafted to be as funny as possible, and using them as the basis for otherwise spontaneous interaction, so they got the best of both worlds. And it worked, every time, because they have the best chemistry I've ever heard in all of comedy. They were like athletes who could always tell where the other was going to end up, they could take their bit and make sure it would land in just the right spot to work with what the other person would have. Even though they didn't know exactly what the other person had, because they didn't write it together. But they knew each other so well that they could anticipate. It's amazing. It's a fucking amazing feat of comedy and it should be in some sort of hall of fame.

In 2008, Andy Zaltzman wrote a book. It's called Does Anything Eat Bankers? and it's a collection of absurd comedy mini-essays about the credit crunch. It's the most 2008 thing I've ever read. It made me laugh out loud a lot. It's available on eBay for insultingly cheap prices and is an excellent summary of Zaltzman's offbeat sense of humour.

From 2007-2014, Andy Zaltzman hosted Political Animal in Edinburgh every year. Usually on his own, though in 2011, John Oliver flew to Edinburgh and they did a few reunion Political Animal gigs, featuring Daniel Kitson reprising his role as God in their God sketch. Andy also kept up his Chocolate Milk Gang membership over those years, doing the Honourable Men of Art gig when it came back in 2008, appearing at some Kitson-compered Late 'n' Lives in the 00s, and at some Kitson-compered Chocolate Milk Gang reunion shows in later years (ZOCK, Fuckstorm 3000, Fuckstorm 3001). Andy did the impressions when Kitson told him to, even though by then he'd long dropped them from his regular act. Andy also performed new Edinburgh solo shows nearly every year from 2007 to 2019 (missing 2009, 2012, and 2015), usually with long convoluted titles in the style of Zaltzman and Oliver ("Life is convoluted, my comedy merely reflects that" - Andy Zaltzman).

In 2014, Andy started doing Satirist For Hire, a show he continued touring off and and on until 2022, in addition to his regular stand-up shows. In Satirist For Hire, the audience could write in with the date they were attending and a subject for Andy to satirize, and the show would consist of him satirizing audience-requested topics. It wasn't improv or anything, he'd get the topics in advance and write stuff about them, new stuff for every show. Which sounds like a ridiculous amount of work, but he was already doing that kind of thing for The Bugle, writing new stuff constantly. Some of these got recorded and released on filler weeks of The Bugle. Topics he got asked to satirize included all 721 Pokemon by name, the autumn equinox, the rebellion in Syria, and his own mother-in-law. He released a DVD of Satirist For Hire that was filmed in 2014, in which he performed the bespoke satire as well a "best of" his other old and new jokes, including some stuff that dates back to the Zaltzman and Oliver catalogue of the early 00s. It also has a DVD extra that's Andy just telling a weird story with no punchline, it's really annoyingly rambling and pointless, even for him. It's great.

During the original run of The Bugle, there were a lot of jokes in which John would tell a star-studded story about his life with celebrities in New York City, and Andy would say he'd had a good pastrami sandwich that week. There were slightly less funny parts at the end of the episodes, in which John would plug some big American event he was doing, and Andy would make a vague plea about small-time stand-up gigs that he couldn't sell. As The Bugle went on, Andy started doing slightly bigger stand-up gigs and sounding slightly less concerned about lack of tickets sold (due to him building up an audience of Bugle fans), though it still didn't look great when put next to John Oliver's projects.

Alongside this, Andy Zaltzman started getting jobs in the world of cricket as well. He was a massive, utterly obsessed cricket fan, made a lot of cricket references in his stand-up and on The Bugle, and at some point some people took notice and started inviting him to do cricket things. Spots on sports shows in which he'd analyze cricket. Cricket commentary. Collation of cricket stats. After several years of this, he started getting to travel for it, announcing on The Bugle that he'd be doing stand-up gigs in Bangladesh because he was going there anyway to attend cricket games and be paid to commentate on them. He doesn't have personal social media, but he does have a Twitter account that Tweets nothing but obscure cricket stats that he has personally worked out. What a weird guy, spending all his own time gathering information about one niche subject and then collating all the stuff from various sources and posting his findings on the internet. Nerd. You wouldn't catch me doing that.

Off the success of The Bugle, he started getting some other stuff. He was a regular host for a while on the Radio 4 panel show called 7 Day Sunday, where he worked with Chris Addison and Al Murray and Rebecca Front, I have frustratingly never been able to find episodes of that show. He got a Radio 4 mini-series called Andy Zaltzman’s History of the Third Millenium, which I have also never been able to find. He started appearing as a guest on The News Quiz somewhat regularly. He did that one episode of 8 Out of 10 Cats one time, and it was very awkward. Stewart Lee put him on Alternative Comedy Experience.

In 2008, John Oliver released a stand-up DVD called Terrifying Times. Andy flew to New York to appear in the recording of it. He came on stage a couple of times, for a few minutes each time, interacting with John so they could include some of their joint sketch material in the DVD. There's also a DVD extra that's a conversation between Zaltzman and Oliver, which is hilarious.

In 2012, Andy Zaltzman again went to New York, to perform some stand-up on John Oliver's New York Stand Up Show (along with Chocolate Milk Gang's David O'Doherty), a confusingly titled American television program with various comedians doing short sets compered by John Oliver. After years of relentlessly making fun of John on The Bugle for how he started saying "gotten" once he'd been in America for a bit, Andy got on American TV and immediately said the word "sports", which was adorable. He tried to fit in. It didn't really work and the crowd didn't know what to make of him, but he tried.

In the original run of The Bugle, Andy Zaltzman really honed his trademark style. It was marked by absurd analogies that treat any of the following like each other: sports, politics, Greek mythology, religion, current events, and occasionally a movie or something. He started doing "pun runs", where he'd spend several minutes doing one coherent monologue in which he'd make as many puns as possible themed around a single subject, usually while John Oliver screamed in agony in the background (you'd think it would stop being funny but it didn't, at one point he started using a little bell to mark each pun). Jokes with footnotes. Jokes where the joke is that the story is pointless. Everything he said carefully and tightly wrapped in at least 18 layers of irony. A running joke in which he'd introduce each Bugle episode by discussing something obscure that had happened in history on the day they were recording. So many cricket and snooker references.

An audio cryptic crossword that ran for the first thirty or so Bugle episodes, in which he'd read out a clue every week, but the clue wasn't to anything that made sense, it was just to some shit he'd made up in his head, and he never released a visual to accompany it. Yet it did work, some people at home actually solved it all and wrote it all out and it all fit together perfectly (that is how you do a crossword, Pemberton).

Massive truckloads of absurdity dumped with increasing urgency all over current events, as though he thought he could bury the dark realities under it. Zaltzman and Oliver's name for this absurdity was "bullshit"; it used to be a running joke that they'd advertise The Bugle by promising it would be completely free of facts, providing the best bullshit you've ever heard. Long, intricate bullshit that all ties together and keeps going just when you think there can't be any more to this story that Andy has entirely made up. Like the athletes he wrote about at university, no one can sue him for libel because they don't actually exist.

One time their producer Chris Skinner accused them of having an especially sweary Bugle, so far containing "twelve fucks and one cunt", and Andy said that's the Jewish view of the New Testament, and they (rightly) talked for like three years about how good a joke that was to come up with off the cuff. Andy's lapsed Jewish-ness is also a frequent topic of his jokes, usually how incredibly lapsed he is, being a massive fan of bacon sandwiches and one time his sister gave him an entire dead pig as a Christmas gift, a story that made it into a Daniel Kitson stand-up show as well as a lot of Bugle jokes about how in most cases that would be a hate crime.

There were also jokes throughout that Bugle run about John Oliver's increasingly high-profile career; Andy gave him the nickname Johnny Showbiz and cheerfully kept telling stories of pastrami sandwiches after John's stories about meeting Samuel L Jackson or whatever. I first listened to The Bugle a few months after I listened to the old Russell Howard/Jon Richardson BBC 6 Music shows, and those were basically an audio documentary of a friendship slowly cracking apart due to one party's jealousy of the other's increasing success (I mean, there were other issues too), so I found The Bugle an odd contrast at first. Because Andy made those jokes, but it sounded like there was absolutely no genuine jealousy behind them. If anything it went the other way, he seemed to vaguely pity John's weird hectic life, and John seemed to generally agree that this was too much celebrity and Andy was better off in his shed. I started wondering: how is Andy this okay with the disparity? Is he hiding the jealousy really well or is he made of stone?

A while into my the first listen-through of The Bugle, after wondering this for a few weeks, I came to the conclusion that the reason Andy Zaltzman sounded unbothered by John Oliver meeting Samuel L Jackson is that Andy Zaltzman truly, deep down to his core, did not want to meet Samuel L Jackson. That man was not impressed by anything in the world that's not a cricket stat or a bad pun, and he entirely meant it when he mercilessly mocked John for the embarrassing transgression of winning an Emmy. That wasn't masked bitterness, he just thought winning an Emmy was genuinely embarrassing. And John Oliver, once again, seemed to basically agree.

In 2011, there was the News of the World scandal, owned by News International, owned by The Times, which owned The Times of London, which owned TimeOnline, which funded The Bugle. Andy and John decided to really go after everyone behind the phone hacking scandal, for several weeks in a row. They didn't just talk about the shit journalists, they went for the entire system of tabloid press and its collusion with government, the people at the top of the both sides of that, everything that allowed this to happen. While doing this, they had a running joke in which they'd tap their mic and ask "Is this on?", implying that their overlords at The Times would cut their mic in retaliation for talking shit about Rupert Murdoch. Then The New York Times wrote an article about what they'd been doing, and they started to sound slightly more genuinely worried that this might get them in trouble.

A couple of months later, for what both sides called unrelated reasons, TimesOnline fired John and Andy, pulling The Bugle's funding. In a Bugle episode in December 2011, they said this might be their last one, they were scrambling to find alternative funding sources but might have to just end the podcast. The tone in that episode made the discrepancies in their careers clear. John repeatedly emphasized how much he loved The Bugle and everything they'd built together, and how he'd like to save it. While Andy had a lot more genuine desperation in his voice as he again used the term "Jack K. Shit" to describe what else he had going on in his career, he actually needed to #SaveTheBugle. You can see that as well in how careful they both were. John and Andy both said they were dropped for apolitical reasons, just lack of funding. But John messed around a bit and implied that this may not be the whole truth, while Andy sounded less willing to possibly get them in more trouble. Years later, in a 2023 episode of the rebooted Bugle, the subject of The Times came up, and Andy offhandedly mentioned that The Bugle used to be funded by The Times, until they were dropped "suspiciously shortly after" they made a bunch of Rupert Murdoch jokes. This was the first time Andy had acknowledged a possible connection, and I liked that, like a sign that he'd finally achieved enough success independently so he could afford to talk like that a bit too.

I made a compilation of this situation a couple of years ago. Most of the Bugle bits in it are John Oliver's lines, because the compilation was meant to contrast John Oliver's running joke on Last Week Tonight where he'd talk shit about HBO's parent company AT&T, referring to them as "business daddy" and gloating about how he could do that without getting in trouble, with the time in 2011 when he went on The Bugle and talked shit about their business daddy and did in fact get in trouble. Andy had a lot of good jokes about Rupert Murdoch and The Times during those episodes, they mostly aren't in this compilation because they weren't as relevant to the Bugle-LWT John Oliver Versus Business Daddy narrative, but the compilation still tells the story. Also I illustrated it with a bunch of amusing old Zaltzman and Oliver pictures.

In early 2012, they came back and announced that they had managed to sell enough listener subscriptions to keep The Bugle going independently. The Bugle continues to run that way to this day, free to listen to but funded by optional listener subscriptions, no ads (aside from a short time in 2018 when they partnered with Radiotopia and Andy had to read out those mattress ads and stuff, and you could hear his soul sinking into the floor, luckily that didn't last long), just because they created a product that's good enough to be worth its audience paying for. It also gets funded by merch sales and things. They have hats and socks.

The Bugle ran for a couple more glorious years as an independent podcast fronted by Zaltzman and Oliver. Then in summer 2013, Jon Stewart went away to film a movie and John Oliver filled in as a guest host for The Daily Show. John Oliver would do a fantastic job fronting America's flagship topical comedy show all week, and then come on The Bugle on Friday and lament how badly it was going and how he couldn't wait to get back to the sidelines where he belonged. But after that, as he'd proven his abilities as a host, HBO offered John Oliver his own weekly show. In December 2013, John Oliver proceeded to have a breakdown, but still left The Daily Show to start Last Week Tonight.

As shown in the compilation I've just linked, which is entitled Johnny Showbiz Gets His Own Show and Has a Breakdown, they promised at the time that this would absolutely not affect The Bugle. They promised! Repeatedly. I mean, they sounded at the time like they were trying to convince themselves and each other as much as the listeners, but still, they promised.

They mostly kept that promise for about a year, taking a few more breaks than usual throughout 2014 to accommodate John's busier schedule, but I don't think The Bugle declined in quality when it did go out. And given how few weeks off they'd had since October 2007, even The Bugle with extra breaks was still a hell of a lot of comedy material for them to turn over. They took a break for the whole summer in 2014, their first time taking more than a couple of weeks off in a row, but came back with a great run of episodes in the fall.

Andy did mention to Stuart Goldsmith, in a 2014 interview, that he was hoping he might be able to be involved with Last Week Tonight in some way, at some point. It's not clear whether he ever mentioned this to John Oliver. Seems like the sort of thing he should have maybe mentioned to John Oliver, instead of saving it for an uncharacteristically vulnerable podcast interview. But maybe he did ask John Oliver for that and it just didn't work out. He doesn't say. It certainly didn't end up happening.

Then, throughout 2015, The Bugle died a slow and incredibly painful death. They kept doing filler episodes, in which Andy would explain that John was busy, but promise he'd be back next week. Then, often, nothing, not even a filler episode, for weeks. Before 2015, they always put out an episode every week, usually a new episode, but if they didn't have one, there would be filler: an outtakes show or a best-of show or some recordings of stand-up or something. One time the producer Chris Skinner strung together a whole filler episode by doing things like interviewing their friend Alun Cochrane (back when Alun Cochrane was cool, Alun Cochrane is now no longer cool). But in 2015, they began to hit the limit on the number of weeks in a row when they could do filler episodes, so they started just putting out fuck all.

John Oliver did turn up for Bugle episodes occasionally in 2015, but when he did, he sounded increasingly distracted and like his heart wasn't in it. Which is fair enough, because we now know that he spent 2015 trying to write and present a research-intensive weekly HBO show, as well as caring for his wife while she had a high-risk pregnancy. It's as good an excuse as I've ever heard to not be able to talk shit about Bashar al-Assad or the band LMFAO with Andy Zaltzman every week (also, you have to give John Oliver credit for the fact that he did The Bugle very well for years despite never actually needing it, and was just in it for the love of the game). But he probably should have just said that, rather than clearly telling Andy all the time that he'd be back soon, which we know he was doing because Andy sounded like he believed it when he relayed that message to the listeners, and then it kept not happening.

To be fair, Andy also should have called time on the podcast way earlier - at the very least announcing an extended break, if not just acknowledging that it's not going to work anymore and ending it. Instead, Andy kept coming back to introduce filler episodes and promise us John would be back soon. And every once in a while he'd do a frustrated new episode with a checked-out John Oliver. I listened to the worst of this period of The Bugle within a couple of days, and that was rough, hearing it all at once like that. Had me yelling at my phone, "Oh my God, stop it! Just put it out of its fucking misery! This is an ex-podcast! Stop nailing it to a perch and trying to sell it back to us!"

Andy mentioned the "Jack K. Shit else going on" thing a couple of times as a reason for why he kept trying, but I don't even think that was true anymore. He had a big stand-up audience garnered by the success of The Bugle. He had his cricket career. He had regular radio work. He didn't have some big TV career or anything, but he had enough to be getting on with. Enough so he did not have to be as desperate as he got about trying to keep a podcast going when it was clearly over.

I think he was scared to try to do his comedy career without basing it around bouncing stuff off John Oliver. As his comedy career did have a history of spectacularly not working when he wasn't working with John.

Throughout 2015, Andy's increasing frustration could be heard in his voice during intros for the podcast filler episodes, and in the recordings of his 2015 stand-up that got released as said filler. He developed a joke in which he'd ask the audience who's heard of John Oliver, find the one or two people who said no, and shout, "Fuck you Percy Primetime, everyone in this room has heard of me!" "Percy Primetime" was a nickname spat with quite a bit less affection than the old "Johnny Showbiz". For the record I don't think they had a real falling out or anything, but there was some genuine bitterness there for the first time after all those years of fame disparity, it finally became clear that Andy Zaltzman's not actually made of stone.

In early 2016, The Bugle came back with one full episode that was actually very good, John and Andy were both really into it. John Oliver apologized for the many jokes he'd made in previous years about how funny it would be if Donald Trump ran for president, and they announced that The Bugle would be continuing for the forseeable future, just going once a month instead of once a week, so they could stop with the filler stuff and be more realistic about what was possible around new schedules. Then two months later, they came back and admitted this was not, in fact, realistic, and John was leaving The Bugle. Andy announced his plan to reboot the podcast in the fall, with John Oliver replaced by a rotating series of co-hosts from around the world. Andy sounded fairly terrified of this prospect.

The last episode of the John Oliver-era Bugle was number 295, and for reasons that Andy Zaltzman finds funny, he made the first episode of the new era episode 4001. This came out on October 24, 2016, and featured Hari Kondabolu as the guest co-host. Hari's a New York comedian whom I assume was recommended by John Oliver, as I can't imagine how else he and Andy would have crossed paths, and they sure didn't sound like two people who had ever encountered each other before. It was fucking awkward. It didn't help that it was a couple of months before the Donald Trump election, so a pretty intense time to try to just jump back into topical comedy with a "get to know the rebooted podcast" episode.

Basically, if Andy Zaltzman feared that his offbeat niche humour would not work without the one comedian in the world who was tailor-made to fit into it... those fears were not alleviated in that first episode. Hari Kondabolu is awesome, he has since become one of my favourite Bugle guests and I've gotten into his own stand-up, but that first time, he had no fucking idea what to make of Andy, and not much of an idea of what he'd signed up for with The Bugle. Andy had no idea how to talk to anyone in the world who isn't John Oliver. It was weird.

Episode 4002 featured Nish Kumar, who came in and immediately shouted "Fuck you Chris!", which was a running joke from the John Oliver-era Bugle (referring to producer Chris Skinner, John and Andy and the listeners would affectionately say "fuck you" to Chris a lot for reasons that made sense at the time), an instant way to assure the audience that he knew exactly what he'd signed up for. Nish had been listening to The Bugle since it started when he was still doing student comedy, and as far as I can tell, he'd pretty much climbed the ranks of the comedy industry in the hopes of someday getting to touch the garment of his heroes Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver (he might have had one or two reasons besides that, but it was mainly that one). And he got his wish. He's now the second most frequent co-host of the Bugle 4000-series (after Alice Fraser), and one time he got to play football with John Oliver and they got into fights on the pitch.

The Bugle continued on shaky ground for the first 25 episodes or so, really for the first 50. Andy has said since that he knows those episodes were rough, that he'd got so comfortable in his familiar rapport with John Oliver that he just couldn't generate the same thing with people he didn't know as well, and he didn't know anyone as well as John. Though it clearly wasn't just about who he knew as well as John, but who he could comfortably work with as well as John (which was no one). Helen Zaltzman came on a few of those early episodes, and she was a fantastic guest, really funny and took Andy to task and held her own on every subject, but it is incredible how little chemistry Andy Zaltzman managed to have with his own sister. He brought in Anuvab Pal, a comedian from Mumbai whom Andy knew from his time covering cricket over there, they were friends in real life, but they often sounded like they'd never met before. The only person Andy sounded like he knew how to talk to at all was Nish, whom he'd known for a few years through stand-up by the time the Bugle 4000-series started. The Nish Kumar episodes were the best ones, especially early on, but it wasn't anywhere near the levels of Zaltzman and Oliver chemistry.

Andy has said in interviews since that he was struggling during that time, and that started occasionally making its way into the Bugle content, which previously had rarely been particularly personal. At the end of 2016, Andy Zaltzman did a year-in-review stand-up show (something he did every year for a while, a whole stand-up show written to only be performed one time to mark the end of the year), and (on the subject of reviewers who aren't Steve Bennett), Dominic Maxwell in The Times (fuck off, Times) wrote a review in which he called Andy "John Oliver's left-behind sidekick". Andy brought that up on The Bugle several times, citing the "sidekick" line with real bitterness, and rightly so. Partly because he has never been anyone's sidekick (except maybe Daniel Kitson's once in a while at old Late 'n' Live gigs), and partly because that was a solo stand-up show that was not affiliated with The Bugle and definitely had nothing to do with John Oliver, so he shouldn't have been put in John Oliver's shadow in a context like that. It was actually a 4-star review, Maxwell liked the show. But the review's first paragraph was:

Why has John Oliver become a star in America while his old partner in seemingly shambolic yet secretly serrated political satire, Andy Zaltzman, remains a cult comedian with a sideline as a cricket stats man? Is it because Zaltzman, with his receded Harpo Marx explosion of hair, is less telegenic than Oliver, with whom he co-hosted the podcast The Bugle until last year? Is it because, although he is every bit as grounded in reality as Oliver, Zaltzman is a more devotedly loopy joke-writer, so that he always adds his own twist of wry absurdism to our leaders’ already skewed logic?

Starting a four-star review with that is one hell of a backhanded compliment, no matter how positive you go on to be about the show itself. I assume that review was the main one - probably among plenty of other reviews that had built up Andy's resentment over time, but that Maxwell one was clearly the straw that broke his back - that led Andy to record this "interview with himself" to put in the "in the bin" section at the beginning of a Bugle episode in early 2017.

So the stone was starting to show serious cracks at that point. At one point in 2017, Andy plugged his upcoming run at MICF, saying it would be good to perform in Australia because his career could "flush down the toilet in the other direction" for a bit. Nish Kumar laughed way too hard at that, I remember saying to my phone, "Nish, stop! Can't you see he's having a breakdown? Stop laughing at that and give the man a hug!"

It was hard to listen to the most stoically-dedicated-to-irony-and-bullshit man I'd ever heard have a breakdown, but things eventually got steadier. Andy did some episodes from MCIF in Melbourne, and on Bugle episode 4023, in April 2017, he brought in Australian comedians Tom Ballard and Alice Fraser. Tom and Alice both became Bugle regulars, but Alice especially started doing it all the time. Alice, like Nish, told stories of how she'd been a dedicated listener to the original run of The Bugle since before she'd started stand-up, and you can see Andy's influence on her comedic style (you can see it in Nish's too - John and Andy both influencing Nish a lot, while Alice is a lot more like Andy than she is like John).

The inclusion of Alice Fraser changed the game for the rebooted Bugle, as she quickly became a very frequent presence, and Andy developed as good a rapport with her as he could have with almost anyone. There are some sweet moments in her early episodes when Alice would pull out some Zaltzman-esque puns or absurd analogies, and Andy would sound genuinely touched that someone else was into his weird niche humour. He immediately started including her in some bit parts of his stand-up shows too, whenever he was in Australia or she was in England.

The Bugle also got better once they started doing two guests at a time instead of just one. Andy has said since that at some point he realized he and John Oliver had good enough chemistry to carry an entire episode, but he couldn't manage that with anyone else. However, he could do it if there were three people, so the guests could interact with each other too, and the three different types of interactions could get them through the 40-45 minutes more easily. They also started doing Bugle live shows, which went well, got toured in England and even in America.

Since then, The Bugle has grown into a thing that is new and very different from its original form, but also very good. As of May 2024 they've just hit episode 4304, having recently passed the 295 episodes that Andy did with John Oliver. Its format has changed. People still turn up with pre-written stuff, but it's not the same perfectly choreographed/somehow improvised dance of tightly written material that it used to be. It's got a wider range of guests, more diverse topics, fewer insular in-jokes. Some other format changes too, like dropping the listener correspondence. But a lot of the guest co-hosts breathe new life into it, bring different perspectives and styles of humour, contribute more than the original version with only two people ever could. It's introduced me to lots of great comedians from various countries (well, mainly Britain and America and Australia, but a couple from India, a couple from Ireland, one I really like from NZ), I've gotten into a lot of people's stand-up because I liked them on The Bugle. They've also created spinoff podcasts, like The Gargle, hosted by Alice Fraser.

The Bugle 4000 has brought in a bunch of comedians from the younger generation, but also let Andy bring in some old friends. David O'Doherty and Josie Long of the Chocolate Milk Gang have done it a few times, they make top quality episodes. Mark Steel's been on a bunch of times, who used to do the earliest days of Political Animal and of course is a king of Radio 4 along with Andy. Mark and Andy are great together, you can hear how much they enjoy each other's company, to the point where part of me dreads the day when Andy decides to be nice to his buddy Mark and let Mark bring his son to work. I don't think they'd do that though, The Bugle has standards. No Elliot Steel, please.

A big highlight of Andy bringing back old friends is Chris Addison, who worked on The Department back in 2004-06. Addison stopped doing stand-up years ago as he got a bigger career in acting and directing and things like that, and he's said he loves doing The Bugle because it gives him a chance to write comedy material the way he doesn't anymore. And because it's the only time he does that, he's not throwing his scraps at a topical podcast while spreading ideas across multiple platforms. He's coming up with solid gold, and letting The Bugle have all of it. Every time he comes on, he does his homework so well beforehand that the other comedians, including Andy, have to raise their game to keep up.

As for Zaltzman himself, he had some shaky times for his comedy material in those early reboot days. He started seeming burned out from writing so much without getting anywhere, and was re-using a lot of concepts for a while. It wasn't bad, but he did stop innovating for a while after John Oliver disappeared. The absurd scenarios in his monologues got a bit by-the-numbers.

However, as The Bugle found its feet in the new era, Andy broke through that and started writing better than ever before. He, as they say in sports and video games, jumped levels. Suddenly came out of a plateau and immediately jumped to a much higher spot than one would expect, like the slow and steady escalation of talent suddenly caught up to him all at once. Like magic. That is one of my favourite things about sports, when an athlete suddenly jumps levels, like magic. Andy jumped levels a couple of times in the late 2010s, and it was so cool to listen to. A big part of it was the way he'd tie together lots of ideas at once instead of hitting them one at a time, the way he'd make connections that turned his monologues into more than the sum of their parts.

He really, really hit a stride in 2019, as the world went to shit around him, and he started incorporating a bit more genuine emotion than he ever had before. So many emotions, all of them various flavours of searing fury at the state of the government. At first the bits of emotion were added unexpectedly, like he was experimenting with it, but then he learned how to blend it seamlessly into his previous knack for absurd ironic bullshit, it was amazing and I think he was growing into one of the best comic writers there is.

I sort of have a theory about that, which unfortunately gets me into a sports analogy so I hope I can be indulged in that briefly. As a coach, I am very familiar with the phenomenon where two athletes work with almost no one but each other for years. In some ways it makes them much better than they could be otherwise, because they're constantly being challenged by someone who knows their style inside and out, so they have to constantly evolve in order to stay ahead of the other person figuring out how to counter what they do, pushing each other to higher levels of the sport. But in other ways, they often end up with big holes in their game, because they never learn to respond to anything their main training partner doesn't do.

I think that may have slightly happened with Zaltzman and Oliver. And more to Zaltzman than to Oliver, because John was doing all kinds of other things, writing for The Daily Show with lots of people who weren't Andy Zaltzman. While the main thing Andy did was write for The Bugle. Even in his solo stand-up career, most of his shows were the best bits of what he came up with for The Bugle, so they were still written first for the purpose of bouncing off John Oliver.

So much of the beauty in the original Bugle was the way John and Andy found each other so funny, they were writing to make each other laugh. But this meant Andy Zaltzman was restricted to material that would fit his established role in a double act. The role of being the intellectual one who comes at things sideways while John tackles them head-on. That role did not leave him space to experiment with things like genuine emotion, even in spots where that could make a routine stronger. I can think of a few Zaltzman routines from 2019 that wouldn't have worked on the original Bugle, not because they wouldn't make John Oliver laugh, but because they wouldn't really have complemented John's stuff in the right way. The original Bugle had a perfect balance of comedic styles, which was what made it great, but you can't go throwing curve balls at a balance.

So my theory is that, once Andy got away from being restricted to the perfectly chosen double act role, and he then got over his slump from when he was upset about losing the double act/possibly worried he couldn't do it on his own, he had a couple of levels that were ready to be jumped. The Bugle released a bunch of the recording from Andy Zaltzman's year-in-review stand-up show from the end of 2019, and it's incredible. The "best of" from an absolutely stellar Bugle year, taking the strongest bits from all those weeks he'd spent writing, and tying them around some structure. It's one of the best fucking things I've ever heard. Andy Zaltzman does everything at once in it.

In 2019, Miles Jupp left The News Quiz, a major topical comedy panel show on Radio 4 (I'm pretty sure it's the major comedy show on Radio 4). Angela Barnes, Nish Kumar, and Andy Zaltzman - three of The News Quiz's most frequent guests at the time - each spent some time guest hosting it, as they applied for the role of permanent host. Andy got the job. He mentioned this on The Bugle during the week before his first episodes of The News Quiz as permanent host, and did it with his usual flair for self-promotion, which is almost none, he just said it's happening. Fortunately Nish Kumar was on that Bugle episode with him, and Nish insisted on interrupting Andy to tell the listeners what a big deal The News Quiz is, that Andy won't brag about it but he got a huge job on a flagship show after years and years of smaller spots on radio shows and earning his place there, and it's really cool. It was adorable to hear Nish hyping up Andy for getting a job for which (Nish didn't mention this part) Nish Kumar had also applied.

In October 2022, John Oliver came back for a special Bugle 15th birthday episode, just him and Andy for half an hour, and it made me have to pull my hat down on the bus so people couldn't see that I had tears in my eyes from laughter (honestly, I should have anticipated that and not listened to it on the bus). It had been years since they'd worked together, and they mentioned during that episode that they hadn't seen each other in years and hadn't even had much contact since the end of The Bugle, but somehow they fell right back into the perfect rhythm. It's nice to know the magic's still there, even if they're not using it anymore.

So that pretty much brings you up to speed with where Andy Zaltzman's at now. For the last few years, his career has been hosting The Bugle in its expanded form that includes live shows sometimes, hosting The News Quiz, collating cricket stats and still doing lots of cricket-related work. He hasn't done a new Edinburgh hour since 2019, but he toured Satirist For Hire in 2022. He definitely can't describe his career with the term "Jack K. Shit going on" anymore.

Quick question, just asking for a friend - how many thousand words do you have to write before something goes from being "quite long for a Tumblr post" to "quite short for a biographical book"?

In fall 2023, Andy Zaltzman mentioned that he "might" have some new stand-up to announce soon. That surprised me, because to be honest, between The News Quiz and The Bugle and the cricket, he's fucking busy these days, and he must be making enough money to not need stand-up. He turns 50 this October. He's been slowing down the stand-up over the last few years, after about twenty years of doing it constantly. I thought he might be winding down that side of his career.

But suddenly, he's mentioning possible new stand-up in 2024. He mentioned it briefly in the fall and then didn't bring it up for so long that I started to think he must have changed his mind about it. But then, in spring 2024, he suddenly started talking about live gigs again. He booked some WIPs in May and June and plugged them on The Bugle. He slowly, with his usual level of self-promotional skills, barely admitted to the fact that he has a whole stand-up tour planned for November 2024. "November 2024?" I thought. "That seems odd. Andy rarely plans so far ahead, he's usually scrambling to plug gigs he forgot he has next week. And now, when I'd thought he might be leaving stand-up behind, he's planning an entire tour many months in advance. Why did he suddenly decide to do a whole big stand-up tour again, and once he did decide that, why did he plan it for so late in the year? I mean, I'm not complaining. More Zaltzman stand-up is great! But it's a break from his usual pattern."

That is what I thought, to myself, as I listened to his updates on The Bugle. And then I sat in the break room at work and I refreshed a page and saw the Taskmaster season 18 lineup and I jumped into the air and all became clear. He's capitalizing. Andy "No Commercial Promotion Skills Whatsoever" Zaltzman is going to capitalize on his fall 2024 Taskmaster bump in popularity by following it up with a tour. I'm so fucking pleased for him.

Guys. It's going to be so good. He's so good, you're all going to love him, I promise. Do you know what it will do to Taskmaster to have someone who can run circles around Alex Horne in the field of analyzing everything via obscure statistics? He's going to make Alex look like an amateur. He's going to have an explanation for every single thing that happens and none of the explanations will be rooted in any kind of reality but they will all make internal sense.

Oh God, people are going to have to talk about him. It is so funny to listen to people try to work out what to make of Andy Zaltzman, particularly if they're not in Andy's carefully curated niche of people whom he's decided he can manage to talk to. Ed Gamble is going to talk about Andy Zaltzman. 17 years after sharing a stage with Andy at Late 'n' Live where Andy declared Marek Larwood the most fuckable member of We Are Klang (he was incorrect, but not for the reasons Tumblr thinks, I would like to immediately apologize for saying that), Greg Davies will have to judge whatever absurd bullshit comes out of Andy's brain. There will be so many cricket references.

Have I mentioned that a cornerstone of Andy Zaltzman's comedy is turning everything into a sport? That's part of his absurd analogies, he analyzes everything as though it's sports. And I love people who analyze Taskmaster as though it's sports. Andy Zaltzman is going to go on Taskmaster and treat it like sports. Oh it's going to be so much fun!

I cannot wait. I cannot fucking wait. I've just realized he's going to have to plug Taskmaster on The Bugle. That'll be weird. Who's on TV now, Johnny Showbiz? I mean, still John, still very much John Oliver, but Andy as well now! You did it, Andy! It only took 17 years!

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 71-80: And now?!

Hello everyone, and welcome to the end of season 2.

It took a while for this post to come out, but it's finally here and oh boy, I cannot wait to see what will happen. What will Jon find in the tunnels? How many more mysteries will be uncovered? And how many more questions will arise?

Only one way to find out.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post 

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MAG 71 - Underground

Welp, saying that this start was disappointing is an understatement.

Not only we have the most useless statement until now, which is basically the fear of being buried alive mixed with the London Tube, but also Random Dead Guy no. 247. In the end, not even Mrs. Górka cared about her own statement. Wow, that’s probably a new record of indifference.

At least I am glad to see Jon is slowly coming back to his senses: he’s sure there is someone human in these tunnels but, instead of going down again on his own, he chose to wait for Basira’s assistance. Thank you, Jon, for still valuing your life.

But wait, is there really someone human in these tunnels? Could it really be the umpteenth Lukas, hidden for killing reasons and killing reasons only? When I said it, I was joking, I didn’t expect my words to come true. If it’s truly a Lukas, I might die laughing.

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MAG 72 - Takeaway

Meat is back. And it’s more supernatural than ever.

You know, I’m starting to enjoy the supernatural meat. It’s a weird little thing, there are too many people involved with it and I can’t fully understand what kind of supernatural shit it is, so I’m curious to see if we will understand it a bit more.

Well, not that this statement really helps with it. I mean, in addition to meat, it also gave us:

a kid who wrote MEAT IS ME, so I supposed he’s the body of the supernatural meat. Or maybe not and he’s just a red herring.

John Haan, who died, or maybe not because apparently no one can die.

Tom Haan, who was in MAG 30 and killed himself but, guess what, he’s alive as well.

Mr. Goodall maybe is part of the supernatural meat too, considering that his ankle should’ve been cut and he should’ve lost a few fingers but he did not.

So… I suppose Jared Hopworth isn’t the meat and that the meat and the boneturner are different supernatural shits. There are too many shits in this world, I hope we will have a full list one day.

Speaking of supernatural shits, it looks like it’s the end of the run for Maxwell Rayner: Basira is going to arrest him.

Yes, sure, I totally believe the police can get him, considering he’s the Dark or whatever name has his supernatural shit. What do you bet he will mysteriously find a way to disappear/escape?

Also… why doesn’t Jon want Daisy’s presence? Does he fear she will beat Rayner so much to kill him? Or is Daisy some supernatural shit as well?

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MAG 73 - Police Lights

Contrary to my expectations, the police truly managed to stop Maxwell Rayner. Or did they? *dum dum duuum*

But let’s start from the beginning: what was Rayner/the Dark trying to do? Was it trying to find a new host in Callum Brodie? Considering that Maxwell Rayner was very old, I suppose that the supernatural shit wanted the youngest possible host. But why this child in particular?

Second: is Rayner truly dead? We also saw Natalie Ennis from MAG 25 who was missing and seemed dead. And we already know about the tendency of these little shits to die multiple times and always come back to life.

Third: why is Jon so sure that the story is over and Maxwell Rayner is actually, truly, 100% dead? He knows others survived. He knows these shits tend to come back to life. What’s different with him? 

Speaking of Jon: so he thought about quitting but…

"It’s not an option, of course. I’m in far too deep now. I get the impression that to quit would be giving up whatever small protection I seem to have here. I just wished... I don’t know."

Do you know what that reminds me? When I talked about Jane Prentiss, I said she went to the Institute because that’s what prey do when they feel threatened: they hide behind a bigger predator. Here, Jon is basically doing the same: he’s relying on the big predator’s protection to survive.

And yes, of course now it’s too late, damn you, Jon, and damn your curiosity. We got the most important lesson in MAG 2, literally at the beginning of the series, and the lesson was: don’t get involved in any supernatural shit. And what did you do instead, Jon? Uh?

But seriously, I’m starting to get scared. Not only he’s getting too involved in general, but with the statements too and I fear he’s connecting with Big Brother in more ways I still cannot understand.

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MAG 74 - Fatigue

Holy shit, this statement was a trip and I loved it.

I liked Jane Prentiss’ statement so much because it was a stream of consciousness and I like this statement for the same reason, even if the two streams of consciousness have very different focuses: Jane’s was mostly about her own emotions and thoughts about the Hive, while Lydia Halligan’s statement is more of a collection of images, facts, events, memories and nightmares mixed so much you can't distinguish what's real anymore. And there are vivid images and recurring elements too, like the billboard.

Mmmh… now that I think about it, I probably like it so much, because I try to achieve something similar with my writing style. I always try to show the story with vivid images, but I also want to show the character’s thoughts and ideas through vivid/symbolic/evocative/recurring images. That’s because I want to keep the POV as close to the character as possible, so the reader can know them through their own mind, thoughts, thinking patterns and yes, writing style (which should vary depending on the character).

This statement does a great job of making me know Lydia Halligan better: it makes her an interesting character and some images are so vivid, I can still feel them. Like when she lays down on the tarmac and says it’s warm and soft. I can still feel the warmth and the small “grains” against my cheek.

And then, among all these beautiful images, we get a tall guy with curly blond hair and holy shit, Michael?!

Yes, it looks like my Boyo came back from the war and he’s still adorable, creepy as fuck and weirdly interested in this woman. Why? Was it just messing with her? Or was it trying to connect with her the way other supernatural shits try to? It didn’t look like Michael wanted to “eat” her as it was last time with Mrs. Richardson, after all.

Thank god, instead of going down the tunnels, Jon put on a camera. Thank you, Jon, for using your brain.

And the camera showed him not just Not!Sasha doing Not!Sasha things, but also… a middle-aged guy with a case, who comes, picks statements from the archives and leaves?! Uh? Who the fuck is this guy, now? I thought it was a Lukas hiding for killing reasons or maybe some weird supernatural shit… but who is this guy now? A supernatural businessman/thief? What is he stealing? And how the fuck can he move the floor away and put it back? What supernatural shit is he? The Ghost? The Ghostly Thief? I’ll call him Ghostly Thief.

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MAG 75 - A long way down

Holy shit, Michael Crew is back! And he’s the Vast or the Lightning or whatever the fuck he is. By now, I have no idea. All I know is that he’s scary and he… uh… searches for people to give them nausea and… idk, throw them from a window? Zap them? He’s still very mysterious and I don’t really understand what is he doing, less alone why and how.

And even Jon isn’t so sure. More or less:

It looks like my suppositons were kind of true: the Leitners change people. Either because they make it easier to connect to a supernatural shit or for other reasons, they still play a role.

Also, Jon is a bit confused: Robert Kelly didn’t meet Michael Crew, but Simon Fairchild. So either Simon and Michael are the same person (just at different ages), or Simon Fairchild truly is the Grandfather of the Vast, while Michael Crew is the Vast.

Or maybe Michael is the Vast and Simon is just another fucker who pretends to be something he’s not. No idea, but I can’t wait to better understand.

Basira! You’re back! And you stole a goddamn box of tapes. This woman is truly the most badass of them all: the police cover for the other agent’s death? Well, fuck them, no more loyalty given, time to steal as much as possible and give all the tapes to the obsessed Archivist.

Honestly? I’m thrilled. I know we will find the real shit now. I know Gertrude’s tapes will blow my mind. And I really REALLY hope to find out stuff like the structure of this world, the existence of these supernatural shits and everything else.

_______________________________

MAG 76 - The Smell of Blood

Once again, a useless statement. It’s just “Melanie gets into a haunted train carriage and gets hurt by a psycho/ghost/guy and stuff about blood”. Not the most interesting thing ever.

But at least the plot evolved a little bit: Melanie will now go to India to learn more about ghosts (goddamit Melanie, and here I thought you valued your life. But nope, Jon’s influence got you and now you also think self-preservation is overrated) and, most importantly, she planted the seed of doubt about Sasha. She remembered the real one and now, finally, Jon is starting to truly suspect about her. Does that mean Not!Sasha will be the final boss of this season? Will it be unmasked?

_______________________________

MAG 77 - The Kind Mother

Omg a declaration about the Not-Things! Another one! This time, it was an insufferable mother replaced by a kinder version.

And yes, I noticed that Gertrude said this “Not Thing” could be “an aspect of The Stranger”. Well, it looks like we have another name for these supernatural shits. After the End, the Hive, the Vast and the Boneturner, we have the Stranger.

Even more interesting is that this “Not Thing” isn’t the Stranger itself, but “an aspect”. So these supernatural shits can appear/show themselves in different ways. So I suppose that the weird twisted corridors are aspects of Michael and the black shadows from MAG 63 are aspects of Maxwell Rayner. This reduces the number of supernatural shits (which is good for my memory), but since I still don’t know how many actual supernatural shits there are, I really really want a full list.

Holy shit, Gertrude labeled this statement as “Changeling / Imposter”?! Just like I called Not!Sasha! Great minds think alike? XD Or maybe Gertrude is just a more practical lady, compared to Mr. “let’s pick the most evocative, poetic and dramatic names for these shits”.

But hey, despite Jon being a bit dramatic in his naming choices, at least he’s a clever guy and immediately realized that yep, that’s not Sasha, that’s a fucking imposter. And he wants to kill it! Oh gosh, Not!Sasha is truly going to be the final boss of season 2! Can’t wait to see this new battle unfold.

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MAG 78 - Distant Cousin

Oh, so we immediately found the statement Gertrude was talking about. And it’s about another one of these Not Things that is being imprisoned by the table. Uh, that’s interesting: so the table/the Spider Gang is effectively a potential “predator” of this supernatural shit.

This makes me think that:

maybe these supernatural shits are not all equally powerful gods, but some might be the “predator” of someone else. A sort of “water beats fire" kind of situation. Maybe the Spider Gang can destroy the Stranger. Maybe the sick guy can defeat the End. Something like this.

In MAG 51, while talking about the Not Things, Not!Sasha said: “It didn’t sound like the sort of thing that would want to be bound to an object.”. At the time, I thought it was because they didn’t like the table/spider stuff. But it looks like they don’t like it, because it’s an effective enemy that can bind them. Love how things work in retrospectn TMA's author truly had things planned in advance.

Oh, I love the pure rage in Jon’s words: “And now I see you.”. This man is so done, I can't wait to see him go apeshit. After 78 episodes with people waking up and choosing violence, Jon decided: “You know what, now it’s MY time to wake up and choose violence”. And if I stan others doing it, I stan Jon even more.

But first, he had to save Tim and Martin’s lives, because he might be a bit of an ass, but deep down he’s a good boy and wants his friends not to risk their lives again. Awww.

And speaking of good boys… my Boyo Michael is back and holy shit what the fuck is happening. Jon destroys the table, which of course was a stupid move - goddamit Jon, haven’t you heard the statement? I thought you wanted to use that table to bind Not!Sasha! Why the fuck are you destroying it?!

And then… Michael is all soft laughs, while he reminds Jon that hey, there’s only one way out :) you might need my help :) tell me you want my help :) He’s creepy and adorable. I love him.

But also: what will happen now?! What will the next episode be? Did Jon enter one of Michael’s weird corridors? I need to find out!

_______________________________

MAG 79 - Hide and Seek

HOLY SHIT ALL THE STUFF THAT HAPPENED HERE.

As it was for season 1, the second to last episode of this season is incredibly full of elements. I will try my best to analyze them:

*

Martin and Tim are my precious boys

Oh, I love their dialogue: we get to see more of Tim’s resentment towards Jon, sure, but we also see him speaking words of truth and saying what I’ve been saying for two seasons:

“I’m pretty sure it would stop Elias firing John even if he decided to try actually running the place for once.”

See? I’m not the only one who thinks Elias does nothing else besides being suspicious af and keeping his ass on a chair all the time. He’s so bad at his job, even his subordinates know it.

Elias’s lazy ass aside, we also get to see more of Martin’s thoughts and gosh, when he wants, this man has an attitude and I stan.

I mean, look at how he scolded Tim:

But also, bless his soul, all Martin wants is to everyone to live in peace and be happy. I hope his wish will come true and this series will end with them being happy - first, they will probably go through hell, but in the end they deserve some peace, come on.

*

Michael is a sassy queen

I love Michael. He’s such a sassy queen, always with a smile in his voice, even while saying creepy, scary shit.

And yes, I know what TMA’s author is doing: he wants me to think Michael will “eat” Martin and Tim. But you know what? I don’t believe it. We lost Sasha, fine, but she was the most “useless” character. These two are basically co-protagonists. Can two co-protagonists die now? With three more seasons to go? If they’ll ever die, I suppose they will around season 4. Dying now would leave the entire story on Jon’s shoulders only for three entire seasons. Seems a bit too much, imho.

Or maybe more people will come and take their place? But then what? Season one dies one person, season two dies two people, season 3 dies three people, season 4 dies four people and season 5 dies everyone? Nah, don’t think so.

Also, Michael is my Best Boyo and I love him and I don’t want to start hating him, so I really REALLY hope he will not kill them. Please Michael, please be a good boy, please keep them in your weird corridors but do not kill them.

*

Opposite supernatural shits!

"God, I’m an idiot. Smash the table, kill the monster, stupid! Lazy, sloppy assumption. Of course the table was binding it. The table is webs and spiders. Spiders are something else. They don’t help each other, they oppose, they... they weaken. It was caught in a web, and I... All the pieces were there. And I just... I couldn’t see it."

Wow, didn’t expect a confirmation of my words so soon! It looks like I was right when I said that these supernatural shits work in a “water opposes fire” kind of situation. Glad to know I was right.

*

Big Brother has a lot of eyes

"So the monster got its friends to carry the table all around, and it still got to take faces and scare people. Then one day it was sent to the house of its enemy, which had the biggest eyes you ever did see. The monster was sent there to steal all its secrets, but it was sad because it couldn’t scare anyone any more."

Okay, so:

The Not Thing has friends who carry the table around. And we know their friends are Breekon & Hope Delivery, because they carried the table in the Institute.

The enemy with “the biggest eyes you ever did see” is clearly Big Brother and holy shit, I was right when I said it has one million eyes or something. And it looks like they’re all pretty big. Scary af, love it.

The Not Thing was sent to steal Big Brother’s secrets. What kind of secrets?

Speaking more of eyes, Not!Sasha reconfirms the eye theme, by saying that:

“I wear you, will I really become the Archivist? Rob the eye of its pupil?”

Which means:

Big Brother truly has eyes

Jon is somehow Big Brother’s pupil - maybe in more sense than one. He’s not just his beloved human, but his literal pupil, because Big Brother can look at the world through his eyes.

*Gravity Falls intensifies* *Stanford Pines intensifies* *If this thing is triangular I’m going to explode*

Is this how Big Brother connects to the Archivist? Is this the crimson fate? Is this Jon’s destiny? Becoming a means through which the supernatural shit can express itself?

*

The Unknowing!

"You’ll miss the Unknowing, of course, but you wouldn’t understand it anyway."

Okay, now, what the fuck is the Unknowing. A supernatural shit? But Not!Sasha talked about it, as if it’s an event rather than a being. So, what is this? What does Jon have to understand? I don’t remember exactly where, but there was someone else in the past who said something similar about “not understanding it”. I’m so curious!

*

Interlude: voices, vibes and sounds are top tier 

I don’t talk about this enough, but gosh, the cast is made of great voices only. Every word is full of passion, they convey all emotions so well and I love them all so much <3

I can feel Martin’s rage when he raises his voice. I can feel Jon’s regret when he says that, despite knowing the truth now, he still can’t remember Sasha’s face (that part broke me, so beautiful, so desperate, it was amazing).

And you can feel Jon’s fear when you hear Not!Sasha’s voice approaching, closer and closer. You can hear the tears in his words, the regret when he says he’s sorry about everything, his urgency when he tells his friends to leave the Institute.

And Not!Sasha’s voice? The distorted, echoing effect is amazing, it makes it 20x scarier. And it looks like Not!Sasha’s real shape is like “a stretched person”, so my mind immediately made the connection:

This series is starting to become suspiciously similar to Mandela Catalogue. And if Gravity Falls ended on a positive note, Mandela Catalogue looks like a tragedy and I fear TMA will lean in that direction.

*

And now, who the fuck are you?

So, after founding Jon, after him literally begging to live, Jon is saved by… bricks? Shifting bricks? I mean, after thinking about it, I realized it meant something like “a whole wall shifting”, but when I heard it the first time, I thought that someone was throwing stones at Not!Sasha and, apparently, that was enough to kill it. It was hilariously funny.

But I can’t even take a sigh of relief for Jon still being alive, that I am suddenly greeted by a “mysterious figure” who wants to have a chat with Jon.

And when I read it, my first comment was: “and now, who the fuck are you?”.

Then I connected: this is Ghostly Thief! The maybe-human middle-aged man who shifted the floor to enter and exit the tunnels and steal stuff. And he wants to talk! We will have answers! Fine, probably we won’t have all answers, but we will have something!

_______________________________

MAG 80 - The Librarian

HOLY SHIT GHOSTLY THIEF IS JURGEN FUCKING LEITNER ARE YOU FOR REAL?!

Sorry, but I was a little… a-hem… surprised. Yes, let’s say I was surprised.

So not only the Norwegian fucker just appeared like nothing, but he gave answers and hints and holy. Fucking. Shit.

But let’s start from the beginning:

*

The missing two books

So:

The Seven Lamps of Architecture by John Ruskin is the book that helped Leitner “shift” the floor and the structure of the tunnels. That’s why Jon found everything weird and complicated: because Leitner was deliberately messing with the architecture of the tunnels.

A Disappearance removes you from the world, but if you read some parts, it hides you. And that’s how Leitner has been able to stay hidden until now. Very clever.

Three years ago Leitner went out and Gerard found him and beat him to death. Not only this proves Gerard is a hero and a mood because I would’ve beaten this fucker too, but it somehow confirms my man Gerard truly died. I am devastated.

*

“The reverse Pandora”

“I saw myself as a guardian, a reverse Pandora, gathering the evils of the world and locking them away.”

I appreciate the change that happened in Leitner from the angry little man described in MAG 35 to the guy he is now. And speaking of MAG 35, now I can understand why he was so obsessed with the idea of the hidden library: he thought he had a mission. He thought he was the chosen one. And he wanted to store his books safely, without them “reacting” to each other.

And wow, he did his job so well, he collected 978 volumes. Nine seven eight. I thought we would’ve had a collection of… 20 volumes at least. My supposition was pretty far from the truth, lol.

*

The attack

Just like Pandora opened the vase and all evils flew out, so all evil books have been set free by a sudden attack, who involved:

“Thomas McMann was stabbed through the throat by something with too many teeth and limbs like knives.”. - The Boneturner?

“Mary Johnson was pulled into a cavernous maw that opened beneath her.” - The Dark?

“Gregory Todd ran into a door that shouldn’t have been there.” - Michael.

“A great hand reached down through the roof and plucked away Leandra Toulouse.” - The Vast?

“And there was one other assistant pulled into a great, pulsating pile of meat.” - the supernatural meat.

If I am right and those five worked together, something must’ve happened back then. How and why did Michael become neutral? Are they on the other side of the “war” that’s going on?

*

The origin of the supernatural entities

Holy shit, I asked for a backstory of these entities and I got a backstory of these entities. Mr. Sims, TMA’s author, thank you for listening to me and providing me with the answers. I appreciate this sort of “time-delayed connection” we got.

And you know what, it’s an interesting backstory. It’s fascinating to imagine these beings that are not in our universe, but “adjacent” to it:

It’s a very exciting concept, because it can be explored in two different ways:

These beings are curious and they want to enter our universe, because they see it as their property/a place in which extend their dominion. To circle back to the ant analogy, it would be a bit like a human trying to “open” the anthill for their needs, because the anthill is on their property.

These beings feel like they are trapped, “glued” to our universe. They feel like they’re forced to move towards it, to interact with it, because there is nothing else in the space where they live. Because there is nothing else, besides this place. And maybe they hate it, they resent it and they do not care about anything and anyone: all they want is more space to move.

I hope we will have more of these beings talk about their place, their feelings toward our universe and their goals, because it would give us a wonderful insight into how they see it. Maybe their point of view is similar to 1) and they’re more possessive/curious. Or maybe it's more similar to 2) and they’re bitter and resentful. I really hope we will know more about this.

*

Everything revolves around books

Again, I was kinda right: the books can help you to connect to these beings, because the books are their essence. A bit like surging into their power a bit.

And the monsters are not minor supernatural shits: they’re parts of these shits, like muscles. Again, it reconfirms these beings re not 200 but less - which is good for me - and makes them even more eldritch-esque and weird. Really liked it.

*

Many new names

Wow, I almost got Michael’s name too, didn’t I? It’s not Mr. Distortion, but simply the Distortion.

And he’s not exactly a supernatural shit, but part of it: a “lying power” called the Spiral. That’s probably why he’s associated with fractals too. Pretty cool!

Also: this helps us understand why Michael has so many issues with identity. It’s because Michael isn’t an entity, but part of it. It makes sense, it’s so logical! I love when things fit so well in a story.

*

What a surprise, hold onto your seat, you won’t believe it…

Hear me out, guys: Elias killed Gertrude.

I know, what a shocker, I can't believe it, it’s not like he had “I KILLED GERTRUDE” written all over his face.

Joke aside, he did it… because Gertrude wanted to burn down the Archives? She woke up and chose violence! Like everyone else! I stan this woman even more.

And yes, I want to give Elias the same treatment Gerard gave Leitner.

*

Elias and Big Brother

…

Did Leitner just casually tell me that Elias is Big Brother?

Listen, when I said that everyone is a supernatural shit here I was joking. It was a joke, IT WAS A JOKE-

Holy shit, we got Big Brother’s name too! And yes, I could’ve guessed it: it has eyes, of course it’s called the Eye. When it'll be called The All-Seeing Eye, I will start to fear it’s really Bill Cipher.

*

The Stranger and the war

Oh, so I got it wrong: The Unknowing it’s not an event, but just another name for the Stranger. And this Stranger shit seems pretty important, considering they’re all looking for it.

Speaking of “they”, Elias replies that “we” will stop them. So I suppose that “they” and “we” are the two sides of the war Michael talked about chapters ago. And considering what Leitner said before, I suppose these two sides are:

The entities that attacked Leitner and his assistants, aka the Boneturner, the Dark, the Distortion, the Vast and the supernatural meat.

Elias/the Eye, the Lukas family and their supernatural shits. And maybe someone else?

And then we have the Stranger in the middle - oh, and let’s not forget the spider lady, the supernatural fog and the End. On which side are they? Also, Michael switched and became neutral, so maybe something else happened and the sides changed even more? Nnnngh, I want to know!

*

Killers, killers everywhere

And then, just like nothing, Elias kills Leitner on tape, by beating him to death. Holy shit this man might be lazy when it comes to the job, but he’s ruthless when it’s time to kill.

Also, fuck you Elias, now who will give me answers? I was a bit angry with Leitner for tricking me, but he was willing to talk! And cooperate! And after explaining himself, I was forgiving him too! Fuck you again.

Martin and Tim my beloveds found a way to come back to the Institute! (thank you, Michael, for not eating them) And the first thing they find is a dead man in Jon’s office.

... They’re totally gonna believe Jon did it, aren't they?

_______________________________

In conclusion

Holy shit what an ending!

We got Leitner, we got answers, we got more mysteries.

And now? I have no idea. Will Jon run from the law? Will he hide at Basira’s place? Will we see him in prison? Will Jon be able to explain himself? Will Martin and Tim realize how dangerous Elias is and beat him to death before he does the same to them?

And what about the Stranger? Will we see it? Will we find out even more about these supernatural entities?

I really don’t know. And I love when a series does this to me: after the season 1 ending, I could’ve predicted a few things, like that Jon would’ve found out who was Gertrude's killer. But now? Now I really have no idea! And I can’t wait to be surprised by what will happen.

TMA’s author, Mr. Sims, you truly are one of a kind. I approached this story with a mild interest, then my expectations rose. Now, you gave me actual backstory and explanations about these supernatural entities.

Next I want to see how you developed all the given premises. I know there are still three seasons to go, but a good story should drop elements on the way. It’s like building a palace: the foundations are here, we just need more planes to be build on them. And then, all these planes should start to converge and be stable enough for the conclusion. But we’ll talk about that in due time.

For now, thank you Mr. Sims and thank you all for following me in this little adventure. I will come back with season 3 very soon, but in the meantime take care of yourself <3

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[xylerray]

Wandarer and Reader seeing each other for the first time again

Game: Genshin Impact

Character shown: Traveller, Paimon, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Reader

Authors note: OKAY OKAY HOLD UP SO I JUST READ A FAN FIC AND THE AUTHOR SAID I COULD USE IT FOR SMTH OWN AND I WAS LIKE „FUCK HELL YEAH“ SO IMMA DO THAT NOW. I WILL ALSO REPOST IT SO YOU KNOW WHATS GOING ON LMAO. And if I give you a gender or smth I am very sorry and also very sorry for grammar mistakes.

Inspiration from: @fruityvegetable THANKS A FUCKING LOT FOR THAT I JUST AHHHH CANT RN PLSSSS (can I get ur dc pls?)

„It‘s okay.“ the Traveller said. Then they explained to you in great detail who he was. Your eyes widen with every story they told. But then they said one thing „He is the son of the Raiden Shogun. A failed puppet.“ with just that it hit you. You jumped up from the seat on the bench. „MY LOVE THAT IS MY LOVE“ you screamed, already rushing after him. „Their what now?“ Paimon asked confused and in the next moment all three of you were looking for him. But you sadly couldn’t find him. After a whole day looking for him and not finding him you broke down. „How could I be THAT stupid. I didn’t even remember him. The one that tried to protect my little brother. The one that showed me the world.“ tears running down your face as your voice broke into many pieces. „This is all my fault. I am so sorry Traveller.“ The traveller answered:“it’s okay. He erased himself from the world. It is a wonder you remembered him. And when he finds out he‘ll cherish it I’m sure of that.“

In this night you hardly could fall asleep. Wanderer always crossed your mind and you judged yourself for not remembering him even more. „But I still love him… I will always do so…“ you whispered.

The next morning went sloppy for you. With almost no sleep you tried to get into your clothes somehow but didn’t quite manage to do that. You stepped out of your small apartment. The sun shining directly into you face, the sunshine’s feeling like the sun is screaming for the day to be good but for you nothing was good. You lost your one and only love. You did not remember him. How could you??? Why?????? You went to the meeting spot from yesterday hoping the Wanderer would cross this way once again. And after 2 hours waiting he did. But as soon as the little puppet noticed you he turned around and made a run from it. But this time you won’t let that happen. With the low energy you had you sprinted after him and pushed him down with you landing on him.

„What the hell? What are you thinking?!“ shouted the little man beneath you. You sat up and let him breath a bit. „I wanted to apologise, my love! I was so stupid! You are the most important person in my life and I just forgot you! I am for real a big disappointment. I am very sorry again.“ you stated, staring straight into his eyes. The failed experiment in front of you just sat there not even breathing. He admired you in the moment. „My love“ you still called him that. You…still loved him… „Dear?“ you tilted your head with a worried look on your face.

The next second was blurred out of you memory and your lips were one. Shocked you sat there until you gave in. Even if Scara seems to be bad at a lot he certainly gives the best passionate kisses. When you pulled away you only had eyes for his angry expression. „I thought I had lost you. Don’t give me such a freaking fright again ,understood moron?“ Scara scoffed. „Yeah sure my dear.“ you giggled

The Traveller and Paimon staring from far:“ if they won’t watch out, they will make children on the street.“ „TRAVELLER“

Hehe this is a lil rushed now I hope you still like it! Thanks for reading! Requests open!

Bye<3 Good morning/evening/night/day<333

[https-harlow]

Fight The Feeling Prologue-2 Like on a date? Yeah, like a date.

Summary- Jack surprises you with a trip to the Bahamas as your first date where you have your first kiss.

Word Count- 3k

With you and Jack both being busy, the next time you saw each other was a couple weeks later when you both happened to be in the same city. You had the day off except for a flight you had to catch later in the day and Jack had a last-minute studio session and he invited you to join him. You agreed, telling him you could only stay a couple hours before you had to leave.

Though this was the first time you’ve seen each other, you two had talked frequently, sending each other texts throughout the day every day since you met, and the occasional facetime when you both had time. You had talked to Urban too, but like you had told Jack the night at the hotel, Urban wasn’t really your type. Though you hadn’t told Urban that, you didn’t flirt with him like you did Jack, you just hoped he got the hint eventually. You still wanted to be friends with Urban, you just never saw yourself being with him in that way.

You never really thought your relationship with Jack would go very far either, you were both extremely busy, and sure you could make time for a relationship, but you weren’t sure if Jack wanted that with you. You thought maybe he did, if you were just a hookup, he would have tried to hook up with you the night you stayed in his hotel, but he didn’t. As much as you liked Jack, you didn’t want to get your hopes up and end up disappointed. 

Jack didn’t have many people at the studio with him, and luckily, he had already gotten whatever he needed to be done before you showed up, because Jack’s, and Urban’s, attention went directly to you. Everyone in the room noticed but no one commented on it until you walked out of the room for a moment.

“Who is that?” Clay asked Jack and Urban.

“I told you its Y/N. I introduced her to everyone when she got here.” Jack said and Clay shook his head.

“I know that I mean who is she to you guys, I’ve never seen you two so into someone.”

“We’re just friends.” Urban said. 

“Yeah, I’m just friends with her too.” Jack insisted. 

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.” Clay said. “For one of you.” He added underneath his breath.

“I heard that.” Jack said.

“Kind of meant for you to. Watching you two fight for a girl’s attention is quite entertaining, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it before.”

“We don’t need to fight over her attention, I talked to her first so Jack should let me have a chance first.” Urban argued.

“You only talked to her first because I was distracted. We’ve been over this.” Jack argued back. 

“Yeah, this will be entertaining for me.” Clay said, laughing softly. “If I had to bet on it, my money would be on Jack, she doesn’t seem as interested in you Urb.” Clay said before turning back to his laptop as you walked back into the room. 

You stayed for a couple more hours before you had to leave for the airport. Jack offered to walk you out to the car that was picking you up.

“When do you go back home?” Jack asked you.

“I fly home Thursday, why?” You asked, turning towards him.

“Can you fly back here instead?” Jack asked. “I have the weekend off, I’d like to take you out, if you want to, of course.” 

“Like on a date?” You asked, smiling softly up at him.

“Yeah, like on a date.” Jack smiled.

“I’d like that. I can change my flight.” You told Jack.

“Good, I was going to be sad if you said no..” Jack laughed softly.

“It’s just a good thing I have the weekend off too otherwise I would have had to. I’m pretty sure Claire would kill me if I canceled something this last minute for a date.” You joked, making Jack laugh as the car pulled up.

“Let me plan something, and then I’ll give you the details as soon as I know them myself. Keep your weekend free, I have an idea.” Jack said and you laughed softly, nodding.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of days then.” You said. You and Jack hugged goodbye before you left. 

You let Claire know to get your flights changed and the next day you got a text from Jack with an address. 

“Let me know where you’re staying, I’ll pick you up Friday around noon.” Jack sent. Of course, the first thing you did when you received the address is look it up. The only place that came up was the airport.

“Jack, you know you sent the address of the airport, right?” You texted back.

“I know.” Jack responded.

“What are you planning?” You asked and within seconds you were receiving a facetime call which you answered immediately.

“You know how you said your favorite place you’ve been was the Bahamas?” Jack asked and you gasped.

“Jack. Are you serious?” You asked and Jack laughed softly, nodding.

“I am. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I wasn’t sure if it would be creepy asking you to get on a plane not knowing where you’re going as a first date.

“Now I know why you told me to keep my whole weekend free. You didn’t have to do that, I would have been completely fine with just hanging out or going to dinner.” You told him and he laughed softly.

“Well, we can go to dinner, in the Bahamas.” Jack said.

“Fair point.” You laughed softly.

“I know it’s a lot for a first date, but I thought since we’re both busy, it would be nice to take a weekend and just relax.” Jack explained. You could tell in the short few weeks you had been talking that Jack spent a lot of time on work, so it meant a lot to you that the time he did have off, he wanted to spend with you.

“Our first date wasn’t the night we met?” You asked and Jack shook his head.

“Nope, neither of us planned that.” Jack said.

“We hung out all night, ordered pizza and I stayed in your room even though it would have taken me 2 minutes to go back to my own room, kind of seems like a date to me.” You teased Jack.

“Did I say it was a date?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“Did you say it was a date?” He asked.

“I just did.”

“Nope, that doesn’t count. So, it wasn’t a date.”

“Fine, if you think so.” You teasingly rolled your eyes, making Jack laugh.

“I do think so. Plus, if that’s your standard for dates, then I need to work on getting your expectations up.” Jack teased.

“It’s not that, I just don’t expect anything big, especially for a second date.” You said and Jack raised his eyebrow, making you laugh. “First date. Happy?” You teased and Jack nodded.

“I just want to show you that I like you. I don’t want to just hook up with you and never see you again. I don’t even want there to be an expectation that we hook up this weekend. I just want you to feel special.” Jack said and you smiled softly.

“I like you too, you know that. Honestly, you making time to facetime me every day, even though you’re busy and working, makes me feel special already.” You admitted, making Jack smile.

“I’m glad it does.”

“I’ll send you the address of my hotel in a little bit, but you don’t have to pick me up, I can just meet you at the airport if you want.” You told him and Jack shook his head.

“Nope, I’ll pick you up.” Jack insisted and you nodded.

“If you insist.” 

“I do insist. When do you land?” Jack asked.

“Like, midnight. I already have a ride back to the hotel before you offer.” You said and Jack nodded.

“That might have been where I was going.” Jack laughed softly. “I have to go, but I’ll call you later.” Jack told you and you nodded, both of you saying goodbye before you hung up.

Almost exactly Friday at noon, you heard a knock on your hotel room door. You smiled, assuming it was Jack, and you answered the door.

“Hi.” You smiled, Jack smiling back.

“Hi.” He reached out to hug you and you hugged him back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

“Are you ready?” Jack asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let me grab my bags.” You said and held the door open so Jack could step inside for a minute.

“I’ll get them.” Jack offered and you let him, because if there was anything you learned about Jack, it was that if he offered to do something, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Also, your bags were heavy.

You and Jack ended up in the backseat of a car, Jack’s driver driving you to the airport.

“This isn’t too much for a first date, right?” Jack asked, looking over at you.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I can’t believe you did all of this, but I don’t think it’s too much.” You said and Jack sighed in relief.

“Good. I’ve just never met a girl I like as much as I like you, I don’t want to scare you off.” Jack said.

“You haven’t scared me off, if you had, I wouldn’t be going on a trip to the Bahamas with you. You’re closer to scaring off my best friend Madison then me. She had me give her everything, hotel, your name, your phone number, practically everything I know about you. Plus, it’s a second date anyways.” You laughed softly.

“Damn, that’s smart, all I got from Urban was a “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”. It’s a first date, but I’ll let it slide.” Jack said, laughing softly.

“And what wouldn’t Urban do?” You asked and Jack thought.

“Honestly, I feel like there isn’t much he wouldn’t do, so that’s not great advice.” Jack said, making both of you laugh.

Once you arrived at the airport, Jack’s driver got your bags out of the back while the two of you got out of the car. You both thanked the driver before you both got led onto the plane, sitting down next to each other.

“Oh, I made dinner reservations for about two hours after we land.” Jack told you.

“Jack, you can’t just throw something like that at me without notice.” You half joked and Jack laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing fancy. It’s just at some random restaurant I found near the resort. I did get us a private room though.”

“I’m not sure if I can believe you when you say it’s not fancy.” You teased Jack.

“It might be a little fancy, but you don’t have to dress up, I promise.” Jack reassured you.

One flight, some random conversations, and a car ride to the resort later, and you and Jack were in your room. You both got ready for dinner, neither of you dressed up, but you did put on something fancier than the sweatpants you had on for the flight. 

“Ready?” Jack asked, offering you his hand.

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled at him, taking his hand as you stood up from the couch. Jack led you out of the room and down to the lobby. Jack had already called a car, so you didn’t have to wait to be picked up. 

During your date, you and Jack continued to get to know each other. You felt like you got to know each other from your facetime calls and texts, but this was different. It felt a lot more comfortable than the night you met. 

You ended up being at dinner a lot longer then either of you expected, you talked about where you grew up, what got Jack into rapping, what got you into modeling, your families, your childhoods, what you wanted for your futures, any random topic you could think of. 

Once you left the restaurant, you and Jack decided to walk back to the resort instead of getting a car. You walked down the sidewalk, your hand holding Jack’s. 

“We should get ice cream.” You suggested as you walked past an ice cream shop, Jack nodded.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Jack agreed, and laughed softly as you smiled excitedly, pulling him gently towards the store, Jack followed close behind you. You stood in line, Jack standing behind you as you slightly leaned into his chest. Jack wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head. After a minute you turned in his arms, so you were facing him, the two of you making small talk.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you guys are adorable.” The couple that was behind you said, they were about your age. You both hoped that they didn’t recognize who either of you were, and luckily, they didn’t, or at least if they did, they didn’t say act like it.

“Oh, no problem. Thank you.” You said, and Jack smiled softly at you.

“How long have you been together?” One of the asked, both of you awkwardly laughing.

“Oh, we’re not really together.” You said.

“It’s our first date.” Jack clarified.

“Well, you two would make a cute couple.” They said before it was your turn to order. Jack let you order first, and then he placed his order. You tried to pay, but Jack didn’t let you.

Once you both got your ice cream you walked back to the resort, ending up on the beach that the resort was located on. You sat in the sand as you finished your ice cream, finding a random trash can nearby to throw your trash away before you ended up back at the same spot you were sitting at before. You were telling Jack about where you had gone to in the Bahamas previously.

Despite Jack paying attention to what you were saying, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes fall to your lips before moving back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Jack asked and you nodded, smiling softly at him.

Before you could say anything, Jack was leaning over and kissing you gently. You deepened the kiss after a moment, loosely wrapping your arms around Jack’s neck. Jack let his hands rest on your waist. Jack gently led you to his lap and you followed his lead until you were practically straddling his hips. Jack pulled away first, both of you taking a second to catch your breath.

“I wanted to do that all night.” Jack admitted, blushing lightly, leaving his hands on your waist.

“And I wanted you to do that all night.” You said, letting one of your hands move to the ends of Jack’s hair, running your fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t want to do this on the first night, and I know it might be a little soon, but I don’t want to wait. Will you officially be my girlfriend?” Jack asked, and you nodded.

“Of course, I will Jack. I’ve been yours since I agreed to go on this trip with you.” You said.

“I just wasn’t sure, after the ice cream shop, you know?” Jack said and you nodded. 

“I just wasn’t sure if they knew who we were, and we hadn’t talked about it ourselves. I like privacy, and I know you do too, so I just didn’t want to risk it.” You explained.

“I get it, I’m not mad.” Jack reassured you. “You’re right, I do like keeping things private. You just scared me with your answer.” Jack laughed softly.

“I mean it, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t already yours.” You said.

“I wouldn’t be here either if I wasn’t yours. I wouldn’t put this much effort into someone I’m not seriously interested in. You just happen to be someone I am seriously interested in.” Jack said, making you smile, kissing his lips softly before you pulled away.

“I really like you, just don’t make me regret it.” You said. You had told Jack previously about getting your heartbroken in a relationship before him.

“I won’t I promise. I really like you too.” Jack said, kissing you again.

The rest of the weekend was spent mostly at the beach together. While you both loved the trips you had to take for your work, you both admitted that the weekend trip to the Bahamas was the most fun you’ve had on a trip. 

You spent the weekend completely ignoring anything except each other. Though you did send a few texts to Madison because if you didn’t, she would have started to panic. Luckily for the both of you, no one you interacted with recognized you because neither of you thought about the rumors that would start if someone had and you both wanted to avoid any rumors.

You and Jack got to know each other on a deeper level then you had before since a majority of your contact previously had been texts and facetime calls. What started as a crazy idea for Jack and a trip with someone who you liked but you weren’t sure your relationship would lead anywhere, ended as something special for you and Jack. Even though it might have been too early for either of you to admit it, you both fell in love on the trip. 

When it was time to leave, neither of you wanted to. You both could have stayed there forever, but unfortunately Jack had to work. You had a couple more days off though, so you flew back with him and stayed with Jack for a couple more days.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree

[irenewsky]

Anime I watched in 2023 (Part 2)

If you came here from the part 1, I thank you and I appreciate you. Now, this part of the list will include some shows I wanted highlight and some extras. Okay, that's it. Let's go!

Some of my older lists:

My favourite animes (Old. Tells of my tastes back in, like, 2018-2020 or something. Updated list coming once I get around to it)

Feel good anime Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Blue Lock

Yoichi Isagi is a member of his high school’s soccer team and during one of their important games, he makes a decision that costs their team a chance of going to the nationals. Bitter and disappointed, Isagi returns home only to find a letter from the Japan Football Union waiting for him. He has been chosen to be a candidate for a new projects called ”Blue Lock”. The competition is tough and ruthless. Who will make it through to the end?

24 episodes - sports

Everyone and their mother watched this one for sure. I might hate irl soccer due to finding it extremely boring (sorry irl soccer fans), but this one I really liked due to it making the sport actually interesting for me. I gotta also say that I found their eyes kinda unsettling when they entered their ”monster modes” (I can not say that with a straight face lol) but other than that, the animation was quite good.

Moriarty the Patriot

In the late 19th century Britain, William James Moriarty and his accomplices with nobles’ blood on their hands work together on a grand plan to bring down the system that favours aristocracy. A mathematician by day and a crime consultant by night, William James Moriarty is about to meet his match - one gentleman called Sherlock Holmes.

24 episodes and 2 OVAs - drama, thriller, mystery

Love me some more victorian era Sherlock Holmes shenanigans. I was so late to this one but it was still so worth the watch (and the read. The manga is just *chef’s kiss*)

*Mastermind by Taylor Swift playing in the distance* Honestly, imagine meeting you soulmate (platonic or otherwise) and them being on the completely other side of law from you. The drama of it all. (Yes, I’m very normal about these two)

Dr. Stone (Season 3 + Nanami Ryuusui Extra)

Over 3700 years ago, a mysterious beam of light enveloped every human into a layer of stone. To stay conscious, Ishigami Senku started to count seconds from the moment he was petrified. When he manages to break free from the stone in the spring of the year 5738, the human civilisation as he knew it had already disappeared. What will happen from now on? What will happen to rest of the petrified people? Are there others who have depetrified?

3 seasons + Nanami Ryuusui extra - action, adventure, comedy, drama, sci-fi, shonen

You will find this anime/manga on my updated favourites list, I’m warning you in advance.

I love, love, love this anime so much. It follows the manga so well and yes, I do recommend the manga for anyone interested. It’s really, really good and didn’t let me down unlike some others have. Also, it’s so refreshing to have a main character who is actively very much uninterested in sex and romance. How aro and ace of him (personal headcanon, no need to fight me for it)

BRB gonna go make myself a Gen Asagiri cosplay. My favourite scheming gremlin.

Tomo-chan Is a Girl!

Tomo is a high school girl with a crush on her long time bestfriend, a boy named Junichiro. She tries to confess to him but unfortunately she has been placed into the friendzone from where it seems almost impossible to escape from. With Tomo being very tomboyish and physically strong, it’s just hard for Junichiro to see her as a girl. Will she get out of the friendzone? Maybe she should get some help from her other friends…

13 episodes - romance, comedy

I didn’t think I would like it as much as I did. ’Childhood bestfriends to lovers’ trope with a healthy sprinkling of pining, chaos and ridiculousness. Delicious.

Romantic Killer

Anzu, a high school girl obsessed with video games, cats and chocolate and fully uninterested in romance, gets assigned a wizard that is going to do everything in their power to create the perfect love life for her. Anzu, however, is having none of it. Game on, you stupid wizard!

12 episodes - comedy, romace, supernatural

I kind of have a lot to say about this one, so buckle up. As an aroace person (who also, coincidentally, loves cats, chocolate and video games) I found the premise a bit annoying at first. I do love, well, love, but it pissed me off that romance was treated as an ”end all, be all” kind of thing and everything else as irrelevant rubbish. Trying to force someone into a relationship via magical means felt wrong. You could say I’m reading too much into this and yes, maybe I am, seeing as the premise was a ”to counteract the low birth rates” gag, but I’m also entitled to my own opinion and critiquing hetero- and amatonormativity.

Regardless, I ended up actually quite liking the anime as it progressed. The backstories for the characters were interesting and I found myself really loving Anzu’s headstrong personality. She doesn’t let the wizard push her around and stands her ground quite often. I really appreciated that. Also the humour in the show did make me laugh quite often, which is always a plus. That being said, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to whack the wizard around the ears. Annoying little thing, that one is.

Sasaki and Miyano

Yoshikazu Miyano, the schools resident BL loving student, meets his senpai named Shuumei Sasaki after he saves Miyano’s classmate from being bullied. This chance encounter and Miyano accidentally revealing his interest towards BL bring the two together and from that day onwards Sasaki is stuck to him like glue.

13 episodes and an OVA - Romance (BL), drama

My VPN worked its ass off when I read this manga on some shady ass website lmao. I just had to know what happens after the point where the anime ends.

Very sweet. Do recommend.

The Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting

Kirishima Toru works for the Sakuragi family. One day the head of the yakuza crime family summons him and tasks him with the duty of taking care of his daughter, Yaeka. How will this ”demon of Sakuragi” handle his new responsibility of watching over her?

12 episodes - comedy

This filled the hole in my heart that Spy x Family ending left at the time. Really heartwarming and I loved the bonds the characters in this show had.

The Salaryman’s Club

Shiratori Mikoto is really good at badminton. That is until an incident in the Interhigh leaves him unable to play how he wants to. Things start to change when he gets a job at Sunlight Beverages and joins their weak and amateurish badminton team.

12 episodes - sports

I saw no one talk about this??? Anyway, I liked this one. A lot. There might a little bias on my side since I actually practiced badminton when I was younger, but I think I would have liked this regardless! The characters had nice dynamics and liked the aspect of ’salarymen by day, badminton players by night’. Have you even lived if you haven’t experienced the highs and lows of corporate world badminton?

And finally, we have a few honorable mentions without descriptions, only vibes and opinions:

Latest season of Tokyo Revengers (Chifuyu truly is the bestest of boys, the homiest of homies. I also read the manga in its entirety. That one I have… a lot of opinions about, not all of them good)

Our Dating Story: the Experienced You and the Inexperienced Me (this one was just okay for me. I actually don’t know if I ever finished it… Well, I’m gonna have to accept the fact that I’m just not someone who enjoys the ’established relationship’ trope…)

Trigun Stampede (I’m not usually scifi kind of person but this one I really enjoyed!)

Komi Can’t Communicate (Not much to say about this one. It was very nice and I particularly liked the way Tadano almost seemed like he was able to read minds hahaha)

The latest season of Demon Slayer (Honestly, a little disappointed. It felt simultaniously very slow and very fast. Also, kinda boring compared to the last arcs. Still decent tho)

Spy x Family (Ah, Spy Family, my beloved. I liked this one a lot)

Chainsaw Man (Gotta admit, I was a little traumatized by the episode 7. I have never wanted to crawl out of my own skin more while watching anime, than I did while watching that episode. The skipping and pausing I had to do with that one… Damn. Other than that one episode, I liked this one enough to finish it)

My Dress-Up Darling (mixed feelings about this one. I just wanted a nice anime about cosplay and sewing and ended up getting fanservice and sexualization of minors. I’m in my mid to late 20s, I don’t need that shit. Just feels weird and wrong. I did finish it, albeit I did skip all the fanservicey scenes)

[anonymousewrites]

Of Two Worlds (Book 2) Chapter One

Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader

Chapter One: Shibuya

Summary: While Gojo heads inside, the other sorcerers wait beyond the curtain surrounding Shibuya to see what will happen.

            (Y/N), Megumi, Ino, Nanami, and Ijichi stood outside the curtain enveloping Shibuya. Everyone had been mobilized to investigate after non-sorcerers were trapped inside and only came to the edge to clamor for Gojo, even though they didn’t know him. And after Mechamaru was found to be the mole in the jujutsu sorcerers’ ranks (and subsequently killed by his curse companions), everyone was on edge and worried about this turn of events.

            “Any reception?” asked Nanami.

            “Blocked. All communication will have to be done outside the curtain or through us managers,” said Ijichi.

            “Sounds like quite the pain,” said Nanami.

            “Fushiguro-kun, (L/N)-kun.” Ino, a Grade 2 sorcerer, was trying to get their attention. “Curtains…the conditions that can be used to increase or decrease the barrier’s effectiveness are usually only things related to cursed energy. So, basically humans, cursed spirits, and cursed objects. Therefore, reception being blocked is a secondary effect of the curtain. But the curtain can’t actually block or allow reception.”

            (Y/N) frowned in confusion. “We know.”

            “Ino, stop trying to show off just because you’re older,” said Nanami.

            “Whaddya mean by that, Nanami-san?!” cried Ino.

            Nanami ignored him and looked at Ijichi. “Where is Gojo?”

            “He’s heading into Shibuya now. We are to wait to act,” said Ijichi.

            (Y/N) frowned. “What about the people?”

            Megumi glanced at her before looking down. “If the curses from the Exchange Event are here, then they’re in danger.”

            “Oh.”

l

            “There you are,” growled Jogo, spying Gojo floating far above them.

            “Heh, heh, heh. Look at you, all ready to go,” said Gojo, grinning as he landed on the tracks.

            Across from him, Jogo, Hanami, Miku, and Choso, another Death Painting, stood waiting.

            “No excuses this time if you lose again, okay?” teased Gojo.

            Miku snickered and looked at Jogo, who was already getting pissed off. Jogo narrowed his eye and said, “Don’t you worry about us…Just be sure to have your first-ever excuse ready.”

            Hanami lifted a hand, and roots broke out of the walls to trap everyone inside the station. The people gasped and stepped back nervously.

            “Don’t bother. If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” remarked Gojo. “Well? I’m right, aren’t I?”

            “Close.” Miku smirked. “But not quite. You see—” She raised a hand, and dark clouds gathered on the ceiling “—we’re gonna kill them either way.”

            She threw her hand down, sending lightning into the crowds of people. Several fell, electrocuted to death instantly, and the rest scattered. While Gojo realized what was happening and Jogo began massacring the people, Miku lifted a hand blew a large cloud over the area, minimizing visibility.

            And with that, my job is done. Got to go greet our other guests. Can’t make them feel left out~! With a predatory smirk, she melted into the fog around her and disappeared. Kinda disappointed, but I guess I should be glad I don’t have to risk myself against him. The plan is a good one, but it requires a lot of risks.

l

A few days ago…

            “What?” hissed Jogo, the volcano on his head almost erupting. “What do you mean we won’t all be going against Gojo?”

            Miku herself was a bit surprised but not upset. After all, she was one of the ones who didn’t have to risk herself for long against Gojo. Still, it was strange. Jogo glared at Geto angrily, but Miku’s attention drifted to the redheaded woman. Geto might be the head of their little group, but she suspected that woman had planned quite a bit of this. Strange. Like Geto, she seems so human-like.

            “Before we seal Gojo, curses are going to be exorcised,” she said matter-of-factly. With her cold eyes and mask, her face betrayed no emotion. “There is no doubt about that. Splitting the strongest fighters ensures we have a reserve.”

            Geto nodded. “Miku will cast a fog to confuse the monkeys and then guard the hallways with Mahito and Nox.”

            At the name, all their eyes swiveled to the curse. He was standing a little ways off, simply observing the ongoings with sharp, silver eyes. Miku was quite curious about him since she was older than Mahito but young compared to Jogo or Hanami, and they seemed almost afraid of Nox. But he said nothing, like he already knew what Geto was speaking about. From the way he was respected, Miku wouldn’t be surprised if he did already know the plan. But Mahito, the youngest and most precocious, did speak up.

            “I thought he was supposed to be powerful. Wouldn’t it make more sense to send him to fight Gojo?” asked Mahito from where he lounged.

            “If you are going to live any longer than Shibuya, Mahito, you need to learn some strategy,” said Nox, a smile on his face. “We have a plan; we just need to execute it.”

            “The Prison Realm will trap him. But there are some conditions,” said Geto. “After opening it, we have to keep Gojo Satoru within a four-meter radius for one moment.”

            You could have heard a pin drop in the silence following his words.

            “Hey.” A dangerous, flaming aura surrounded Jogo. “I’m gonna burn you alive!”

            His volcano head began to erupt. Hanami took a careful step back so she wouldn’t be set on fire, and Miku prickled with protective lightning. Mahito grinned in sadistic pleasure at any sort of conflict, but Geto and Nox remained calm and composed. This merely inflamed Jogo’s wrath since no one else was admitting how ridiculous the idea of trying to keep Gojo Satoru still was. To him, this oversight that would probably potentially get him and his associates killed was an outrage.

            “Surely you didn’t team up with us to assign such an impossible task, did you?!” he roared, almost dragon-like with the flames wrapping around him.

            Miku sighed and watched as he continued his rage. At some point he’ll just peter out. But if he doesn’t, I’ll dump water on him A good rainstorm ought to cool him down.

            “Against that?! Under those circumstances? Even a thousand measly human lives wouldn’t be enough to distract him!” shouted Jogo, nearly turning Dagon’s domain into a sauna.

            A nice spa before the fight wouldn’t be too bad, though Miku absently.

            “Relax, Jogo,” said Nox, yawning and leaning back. “You’ll overheat.” He seemed perfectly comfortable, the flames not touching his icy skin.

            Jogo grumbled, but his head stopped firing all over the place. “What type of trap are we be dragged into?”

            “No trap,” said Geto. “When I say one minute, it’s one minute worth of time inside Gojo’s brain.”

            “And how do you plan for that?” asked Hanami. “Gojo’s mind is quick and clever.”

            Geto glanced at the woman, who had already walked off to speak in a low voice to the monk, before looking back at the curses gathered in front of him. “We plan to introduce an old friend. A good reunion gives everyone a good start.”

            “I believe a good number of reunions are in order,” said Nox. His face was a calm sea, no emotion disturbing the surface. But his cursed energy surged to the surface, and it took quite a bit of self-restraint on his fellow curses’ parts to not take a step back from the freezing sensation it gave them.

            Miku cocked her head curiously. It’s like Geto, Nox, and those two humans know something more than us. She shrugged to herself. Ah, well, it’s not like any of them want Gojo to be free, so what harm could come?

l

            With a dangerous look in his ice-blue eyes, Gojo looked over his shoulder at Choso and Jogo. The smoking remains of Hanami lay scattered like seeds in the wind behind him. “Next,” he hissed.

            “Choso! I’ll kill you myself if you’re not even going to help!” shouted Jogo.

            “Fine.” Choso sent two arrows of solid blood arching through the air, but Gojo effortlessly blocked it with Infinity.

            A subway train rolled in beside them. “It’s here!” Jogo grinned maniacally. The doors slid open, and transfigured humans fell out, ripping the people trying to escape apart. Gojo’s eyes widened. He couldn’t understand why they were eliminating their hostages.

            “Jogo!” chirped Mahito, skipping out of the train. “Mmm! Fresh air, full of fear! Maybe we should let a few humans survive. On the weekends, we’ll let them loose in the forest and hunt them. Can I burn down the forest? Hanami would be upset~”

            “Hanami’s dead,” said Jogo.

            “For real…? Aw, man.” Mahito grinned. “Guess I got to pick up your slack.” He jumped and tried to punch Gojo, but again, Infinity stopped the attack. “Haha! I really can’t hit you!” On the other hand, Gojo wasted no time sending Mahito flying with several punches. Mahito smiled madly. “Let me share one thing I find so disgusting about humans. There’s so many of them.” Hanami’s roots fell away, and people began falling down into Shibuya station.

            “Blood Manipulation: Convergence,” said Choso calmly.

            “Idle Transfiguration: Soul Multiplicity!” shouted Mahito.

            “Supernova.”

            “Body Repel!”

            On one side, powerful blood lashed at Gojo; on the other, transfigured humans barreled towards him. Above, Jogo jumped down to attack. Gojo reacted quickly and blocked Jogo by tearing off one arm, forcing the curse to back off for a moment while non-sorcerers fled for their lives in a wild panic all around.

            Gojo’s eyes closed for a moment as he made a decision. It was a tough, rather cold-hearted one since more lives would be endangered, but it the was the best option for the scenario. “Domain Expansion: Unlimited Void.” For 0.2 seconds, his domain enveloped the area. All of the transfigured humans fell to pieces around him from being affected by the domain. As the curses started in surprises, he stood amongst the wreckage, blood staining his hands and face, eyes fiery with danger.

            Mahito threw out a hand and sent his remaining transfigured humans after the escaping people. Gojo, who could only be heartless to a certain extent, quickly moved in front to block with infinity. A poor woman screamed as a transfigured human grabbed at her, and Gojo sent it flying.

            “Oh, god, thank you, thank you!” she cried, her tears mixing with the fabric of the mask she wore.

            Gojo turned back to the fight. “Get out of here,” he said. “There’s no time for talking.”

            “Oh, no.” Her trembling voice turned confident. “I’m thanking you for coming over. You made this so much easier.” She tossed down a strange cube and smirked. “Prison Realm: Gate Open.”

            The cube flipped open and extended into a fleshy sack with a large eye. In its pupil, Gojo’s icy irises reflected back. He could almost see himself being pulled in by the eye, into its inescapable depths. For a single, tense moment, Shibuya was still. Jogo, Mahito, and Choso held their breath. The woman, perfectly at ease, watched the proceedings in satisfaction. The second ended as quickly as it came, and Gojo turned to move, every fiber of his being telling him to get away from the Prison Realm.

            “It would be rude to leave before our guest arrives,” said the woman.

            Narrowing his eyes, Gojo turned to face her. She must be a curse user with them. Time to thin their lines. He raised a hand to release a straight shot of Red when someone else, dressed in dark clothing, stepped out of the crowd.

            “Yo, Satoru.” Geto smiled and raised a hand in greeting. “It’s been a while.”

            Gojo’s eyes widened, and his hands fell to his sides. He took in the familiar figure out his friend, the long black hair, traditional clothing, confident gait, even the cursed energy was a perfect match. A perfect match for the man Gojo killed a year ago. But there Geto stood, with only some stitches on his forehead differentiating his past from present.

            But those details were quickly lost on Gojo as his mind race. A thousand memories flashed through his mind. Meeting each other, training together, going on missions together, playing round with Ieri, taking Riko to the beach, fighting side-by-side, losing him to darkness, fighting him, killing him. Over three years of memories played out in his mind.

            Even though it was just an instant, for Gojo Satoru, one minute had already passed.