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gb-patch · 2 years

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Ask Answers: Shiloh Fields

That last answer about Shiloh lead to a good few new ones. I think it’ll be easier if I put all the info together in one post instead of having it be broken up between multiple asks. So here that is.

Since it’s a little long I’m also putting it under a cut. Thank you for the interest in our suspicious snake boy, haha!

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Just read the answer to the Shiloh ask, okay... now I can't help but wonder, did Shiloh stick to Lizzie because he genuinely liked her, or because she was in a way the most influential from their group (lizzie, shiloh, mc, cove)? Honestly I think Shiloh changed the way I view characters; I don't think I have really understood that it was possible to create a character that's just like. A bad person. And no one knows why, they probably don't even have a reason, but they're just like that. It's very entertaining and I'm definitely a little obsessed with him. Props to you for creating him.

I have A NEEED during the scenes in it is just Shiloh and OL1MC they go to get ice cream, i usually end up forcing Shiloh to partake, and afterwards theres an option to ask Shiloh if he's scared of the Mc or considers them a friend. From my understanding, Shiloh in Step 1 doesn't really care about OL1MC much at all, more of an apathetic stance. But then why bother hanging out with them that entire afternoon?

Thanks soooooo much for basically always indulging our questions!! Best DEV Ever 🥰🥰 Award goes to you!

I know that Shiloh's supposed to be really in the air about everything, but man... I'm so curious about his actual feelings towards Jamie since he's so passive about them LOL. As a kid he obviously favors Lizzie, but with a kind MC who gently diffuses friction between him and Cove, does he feel really passive towards them or does he actually like them but not as much as Lizzie? I always wondered since even in Step 3, my MC was very understanding/encouraging even during the fiasco with Liz

Hi! So I'm not entirely sure this falls within the realm of unable to answer because Shiloh's meant to be really questionable/enigmatic, but I remember that Shiloh isn't incredibly fond of very perceptive individuals and your recent asks about him made me really curious. If the MC is perceptive as a kid, AND asks him directly about his behaviour but has been kind to him, does that mean that he's wary of them/dislikes them? Does that feeling carry over to when they're older as well? :o

For Lizzie, Shiloh does honestly admire her in Step 1. Whether he actually likes her as a friend is questionable. But he does stick to her because she’s older and because she is someone who could and would fight who he could get on the good side of. Shiloh would never have clung to her if she was the type of kid who, when Cove moved in, went all “Oh boy a new friend! Let us all get along!”. That’s not what he wants. He wants to feel more secure in his position as part of the in-group, not that anyone who comes along will be put on equal footing just for showing up. And Lizzie is the type of kid who initially forgot who Cove even was and then started spooking him by talking about the mean grandparents with no kids who hate kids. It’s that kind of behavior that makes Lizzie someone he wants to be a tag-along for.

For the MC, unfortunately Shiloh’s closest contemporary is Step 2 Jeremy. He’s not, usually, hostile but that doesn’t mean he’s nice or in any way interested in the MC’s life. The MC doesn’t have enough power to matter in those empty gray eyes of his. He’s not there for them. In Step 1 he’ll never really be your friend or enemy, you’re just Lizzie’s sibling. He hangs out with the MC because he has to sometimes and during those times he tries not to make problems for himself, but he’d always rather be with Lizzie. As long as she’s approving of him, it’s irrelevant what the MC thinks.

Getting him a treat won’t help him like you more. He doesn’t even care that much about food. He’s too uncomfortable around other people to just relax and enjoy ice cream with them. There’s all gotta be a reason and it’s probably something bad. If you try to be perceptive he won’t care that much either. Baby Shiloh isn’t as sharp as older Shiloh. His little boy self is just floundering around trying not to be alone or the object of ridicule, even if that means making sure someone else is left out/being teased. It’s not a pleasant way to live, but that is how he lives. Then once Step 3 and 4 come around it’s simply ??????? for all regards. Who knows what Shiloh thinks of the MC or their past experiences together?

I’m sorry about that guy.

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #shiloh fields #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

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thefirsttree · 3 years

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A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind… I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

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My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

#clanask #squid anon #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides imagine #janus sanders x reader #janus sanders #angst #hurt/comfort #songfic

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ask-rp-devra · 4 years

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A few more days passed, the whole island was preparing to lose two staff members for a short while so ther was a handful of new Pokemon squads on patrols, and a lot of handing over of work to Professor Grey and Pari who were happy to stay behind for the time being. Seeing as the trip to the Crown Tundra area in Galar was looming, peach had put in special permission to bring along Valka, her age and subsequently monstrous skill made her usually unable to travel, trained to a fine point, putting her in a gym battle or a league seemed very unfair, but the locals seemed to think she’d fit the bill, Professor Magnolia had mentioned the abundance of legendary Pokemon in the area, so it would seem wise to take along a Pokemon that was able to hold its own.

With bags packed and bodies in seats the woman and her apprentice began the trip back to Galar, not only to collect more data on the new areas, but also to gather Devra’s team mates up to bring back to the island. The flight back was fine, Peach slept, drooling a bit, legs tucked up in the plane seat, her single Pokemon stashed for the journey, it felt uncomfortable having Valka in her pokeball, it didn’t happen often.

Devra had spent most of her free time packing for the trip, and the rest of it bonding with the two Pokémon she’d be bringing to the tundra. She had to make sure Aliza and her newest Pokémon Coal were strong enough to hold up in the tundra. Fiona helped her load with training her daughter, trusting her human to take care of Aliza but also wanting to make sure she’d be okay too. Now that they were on the plane Devra sat in the window seat, watching the clouds go buy. As they got closer to landing she gently nudged Peach. “Professor? We’re almost there.” She then looked out again, excited to see her mom again, as well as all of her other Pokémon.

Peach grunted, awoke with a jolt, and looked around, dazed and somewhat still very asleep, looking rather disheveled. Drool sticking hair to her face, squinty tired eyes, and a miserable headache. Water and pills as she waited to get the green light to get off the plane, and finally see her partner again, the ball sat in her pocket, in her hand, waiting patiently.

by the time they had disembarked, got their luggage and had caught a flying taxi towards Devra’s home, they had been able to finally take in the scenery, and enjoy the view as they made their way back to postwick, a quiet little town full of wooloo keepers and families.

“you must be happy to get home, see the family, you’re old Pokemon.”

Devra had given the corviknight a warm hello when they were picked up, being familiar with his taxi team. “I’m super excited. I told mom we were coming the other day. I think she’s going to have tea and cake waiting for us. I think you’ll be happy for the tea. She says my Pokémon have all been keeping an eye out for me. I have a feeling there’s going to be a mob when I get of the taxi.” She laughed as she saw her house come into view, here eyes bright and happy.

The pair thanked the taxi driver, and his delightful Pokemon, watching them fly off, leaving them outside a quaint little home, the front door swinging open in haste, a woman stepping out, presumably Devra’s mother? Peach smiled a bit, trying to come off as pleasant, and let Dev take the lead here. In her pocket she could feel the pokeball shake, Val trying to get out.

“not yet bud, let’s just get settled, not long now.” She murmured very quietly, not drawing any attention to herself.

Devra glanced over at Peach, her own poke balls in hand. “You can let her out now Peach. Most of my guys know to be polite around new visitors.” She let out Coal and Aliza, the young ponyta snorting as she was finally able to stretch out. Devra quickly explained things to them before a loud cry was heard from the side of the house. “Oh boy...give me a second.” She got up and quickly put some space between the little group and the hoard of Pokémon coming at her. She soon disappeared in a mass of excited cries, her laugher still being heard.

This was...expected. Peach had caught Devra chatting on her phone across videos to a lot of these Pokemon, all shapes and sizes, so she took a perch on the fence out of the way, and let the mob rush over and get their affection out of their systems. The poor girl within the crowd was far from unhappy about it all, they seemed like relatively well behaved Pokemon. While the ruckus went on, she release her darling fire type, who shook her whole body thoroughly, hating the feel of pokeballs, sending little embers out of her fine fur, before seeing the group, and scaling a tree to be as far out of the way as possible. Peach looked up to her, a small almost unnoticeable grin on her face. “you’re probably right to get some distance, never been one for socialising hey buddy.” She grumbled, folded her legs up under her and sat like a loaf in the tree.

As Devra made her rounds through the mob, four figures bounded over to the grumpy woman. Two of them were applin, both rolling around at her feet. Then a smaller than normal dreepy floating slightly behind the excited little ponyta that stood happily in front of peach.

The quad of new and quite familiar Pokemon approached, Peach for once had no snacks in her pockets, fresh from the airport with its restrictions, she rummaged to no avail.

“ah sorry guys, I normally have snacks on me, I’ll have to go shopping sometime soon.” Instead holding her hand out to see if they wanted to sniff. The applin had her attention in particular, her trip to Galar was cut short due to a medical emergency back at the labs, so she never had a chance to catch any or observe them. “you’re all certainly very strong looking aren’t you.” The ponyta reminded her of home, in a weird way, growing up with the species just being around, she became use to them from an early age, though this youngster was Galarian and very different in appearance.

Devra looked over at peach and grinned, seeing her with four particular Pokémon. She managed to make her way over to the little group, her Gardevoir holding onto her harm as she went. “Looks like you met your surprise.”

“my what?” She was a little dense at times, head empty. By this point they’d gotten a bit closer to her, she had been able to pet them all a little, besides the Dreepy who was a little more shy from the looks of it. Val stayed high up and observed quietly, she was use to sharing her human, this was not new to her.

“Your surprise! You were so excited when you saw the Pokedex entries for applin, and curious about Dreepy. So I thought I’d get you a gift for all the help you’ve given me. The ponyta is kind of a bonus. The dreepy has gotten kind of attached to him, so I don’t think it would be smart to split them up.” She laughed as she was hugged buy the gallede as well, the two obviously fond of their human.

“wow, that’s really thoughtful of you, you know you didn’t have to do all this right? But thank you regardless.” Peach didn’t think she’d be getting a few team mates so fast, some may have to go home for now, they’d be too young for battling in the Crown Tundra just yet. “‘what do you all think then? You want to see if we get along? Don’t have to stick with me if you gave it a try and don’t enjoy it, but it’d be nice to get to know you all a lot more for sure.” She directed her questions to the Pokemon before her, not focusing on the little ghost type too much to not freak them out. It would certainly be nice to have the company, and there was no other fox pokemon so Val wasn’t bothered by their presence at all. With so many around it really felt a bit more like home.

Devra laughed as the applin bounced happily. “Oh don’t you worry. They’ve been super excited to meet you. I’ve been telling all about you and what you do for Pokémon. The dreepy has been excited too, but he’s just a little shy.”

“oh! So you all knew me before I even knew you, well that explains why you all came over so quickly.” The woman laughed a bit, noticing Val descend from the tree behind them, sitting bout a meter back from the others, there was a shimmer you could almost not notice around her, she was putting up a barrier to give herself some space, but seemed rather calm and not at all in discomfort around these new faces. Peach shifted to the side a bit, gesturing to her beloved partner. “well then everyone, meet Valka, she’s...well, family. hopefully you’ll all get along and learn a lot from each other. If you’re worried or want some advice, please ask me or Val and we’ll try to help.” Her attention shifted to the Dreepy who was still hiding a bit behind the Ponyta.

“‘Ah, and don’t worry little guy-“ her eyes glanced about secretively, trying to be a little less scary with her expressions, softening as she whispered a little to him. “‘you and me can be shy together, I’m not great with big crowds or lots of eyes on me either. If you ever think it’s too much for you, you can hide behind me and I’ll scare off whoever’s bothering ya, I’ll be the brave one when you can’t.” She did laugh, this wasn’t the first shy Pokemon she’d had to handle, and they had a lot of love to give normally, just took time to get them comfortable. Her attention now off of him, she let Val so her usual thing, advance to the group, sit in her lap, and discuss with the others, get ting to know them a bit. One applin seemed happy to crawl up onto the professors shoulder, the other wiggling up next to her leg where she sat.

“‘honestly Dev they’re all darlings, I’m sure we’ll all get along great in time.”

She grinned happily as she watched Peach with the little group. “I’m really glad it worked out. I was a little nervous that they still might be too shy. Well, besides the dreepy. Oh!” She dug in her bag and pulled out an odd looking apple. “I almost forgot this! It’s a Sweet Apple. You can use it to evolve one of the applin into an appleton.” There was a happy rumble from behind her as her own Appleton stepped forward. “There’s another apple called a Tart apple that can get you a flapple like mine too. But I haven’t been able to find one yet.”

The mention of the specific fruits found in Galar caught the professors attention, also noticing the big rounded Pokemon approach upon seeing it. The Appleton was actually surprisingly small for a dragon type, shin height, and possibly the cutest looking thing peach had seen in a while. She accepted the fruit thankfully and had to look it over, sniffing it, and all too tempted to take a bite to figure out what it’d be best suited to, from the name, it’d be a really good eating apple, the tart one however would be a cooking sort no doubt.

“ill have to keep my eye out, I must have missed this all last time I was here, good thing you kept your eyes peeled for this.” She let everyone of the new youngsters around her have a chance at looking over the apple too, even Val took a sniff. It was always good to let them see as much of the world as possible, and all the items it contained.

“Maybe one of the pair will like the chance to evolve one day, they’ve probably had time while staying here to meet your pair of Pokemon who chose to evolve, so who knows.” She looked to the two Applin who she had become very fond of quite quickly, they had surprisingly big personalities for such small species, giving each other grief at any given opportunity, like bickering siblings. “they’ll figure it out when they are ready.”

She smiled as she glanced back at the house, waving to her mom as she came to meet them now that the chaos had settled down. “My moms name is Olivia by the way. Not sure if I told you that.”

“you did not.” She said matter of factly, and stood to greet the woman who looked very happy to see her daughter. The woman herself had a fair bit of resemblance to Devra, they shared a few mannerisms too peach noticed while offering a smile and a handshake, which did slightly throw Olivia, she had intended to go for a hug, but saw the social queue and changed it up.

“it’s really nice to meet you, you’re daughters been a real asset out in Johto, you should come and visit her some time perhaps, see what she gets up to.”

Olivia smiles warmly at Peach as she shook hands with her. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you as well Professor. Devra has told me so much about you and the island. I’ll have to make a trip out some time. I’ve been meaning to take a holiday for some time now.” She then turned to her daughter and gave her a massive hug, inviting both of them inside for a rest before they continued their trip.

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astronomiaa · 3 years

Note

Your corpse party thoughts. Hand them over.

Anon you have absolutely no idea what you've unleashed.

Game-Wise:

Blood-covered is probably the best game of the trilogy, partially due to the fact that it already had a foundation for it to be built off of which lessened the margin of errors. Though with it being redone multiple times for different consoles and additional content added, the devs really should've taken the chance they'd given themselves to add in hints for the plot of Blood Drive - so it wouldn't seem so completely out of nowhere.

The time loop idea that was introduced in one of the wrong endings of the first game and later expanded on in Book of Shadows and Blood Drive was a GREAT concept, just (like the rest of Corpse Party) really poorly executed. There was absolutely a missed opportunity on the devs part in using the time loop plot point to rearrange the pairings in the closed spaces and further delve into the different friendships that make up the main Kisaragi cast.

Blood Drive is an absolute mess of a game, but an enjoyable mess. There was some plot points that I found interesting - like the introduction of rival underground paranormal organizations interested in the students due to their association with Heavenly Host. There was other plot points I firmly hated because of how little they made sense and how badly they clashed with the setting of the story (European witchcraft? The Witch Trials????).

Character-Wise:

I don't dislike Yuka as a character, but she does make me horribly uncomfortable because I know exactly what intentions she was created with. She's basically a conduit for Kedouin and the other dev's weird fetishes. Ideally, if I got my way and could give Corpse Party a massive overhaul and rewrite it - rather than an extremely immature 14 year old with a crush on her brother, she'd be an 8 year old little girl whose a little mature for her age and looks up to her older brother.

Additionally, the time loop concept could've made such a fascinating piece of character background to Satoshi if they'd stuck with the idea of him being able to remember past loops. It'd be a great explanation as to why his reaction to Heavenly Host is relatively tame compared to the other students in the first game or why it's much easier for him to accept the death of their friends. He's already had time to get used to it.

Unlike Yuka, Kuon Niwa is a character that makes me so massively uncomfortable that I absolutely hate her for it. The devs definitely wrote her with intentions for her to be Yui's narrative foil, only with enough differences that Kuon's still her own person. I don't hate her for that, in fact I think I would've loved her had it not been for them making her a massive creep. She's a 27 year old woman in love with her 17 year old student, whose parents she basically bribes into giving her 24/7 unrestricted access to their home (and son). It's made even worse with how uncomfortable she makes Satoshi. Ugh.

As much as people can tell me otherwise, Yoshiki saving Ayumi at the end of Blood Drive was ultimately a selfish act that made her sacrifice meaningless and disrespected her final wish - and it was something completely in character for him. I don't say that to be mean or because I hate him, he's actually one of my favorites! But like any good character, he has his faults, and one of them is that he's kind of selfish in that he'll always put Ayumi above everything else - even her own wishes. I'm not going to delve into all of that here, but I'm super interested in seeing the consequences of his actions in how it may have royally fucked up his relationship with both Ayumi and Satoshi.

That's all I'm going to say for right now, but I always have more to share! If you have any further questions or anything, don't feel scared to ask :D

#this took me like... 4 hours to type wtf #corpse party #yoshiki kishinuma #satoshi mochida #yuka mochida #astra talks

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

Stuck With You - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Cruel To Be Kind

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Oh I can't take another heartache

Well I do my best to understand dear But you still mystify and I want to know why I pick myself up off the ground To have you knock me back down, again and again

click here to be on the update list

"Are you sure you can't do anything?" I asked with a begging voice and puppy eyes.

I knew it probably wouldn't change anything but I was ready to try anything to get an other room. I had waited over an hour to talk to someone who was in charge and then had to wait an other half hour to get an answer. Apparently, I was on a waiting list and they couldn't tell me when they would be able to assign me a new room on the girls' side. It all depended on when there would be a spot available, meaning that a girl had to move out, and obviously, they couldn't tell me when it would happen.

"I'm very sorry." the woman replied, making me sigh.

I could read in her face that she felt sorry for me, but she probably thought it was making me uncomfortable to be in the boys' building. If I wanted to be honest, I didn't really care if I was with boys or girls, I just wanted to be far from Niall. The longer I stayed near him, the more I realized that I actually liked him more than I should. I couldn't even think of what a whole year would do to my feelings.

"Alright, well thank you anyway." I replied, sending her a sad smile and turning around to leave.

It was horrible to think I was still stuck in the same room and I was pissed at myself for even mentioning it to Niall. He probably expected me to leave the room very soon and I was scared he'd be pissed at me for staying.

I walked out of the building as an other idea popped in my head and quickly, I took my phone out of my pocket. I started checking if there were rooms to rent off of campus but still close and I got very excited when I found a few. Unfortunately, they were expensive and I put my phone back in my pocket with a sigh after added them to my bookmarks. Perhaps, I could get myself a job to pay for a room, at least until a room in the girls' building would be available. The thought of moving out over and over made me grimace but at the same time, I knew it would help me not fall in love with Niall, and I was also well-aware of how bad he wanted me out.

I stopped in front of my room and stared at the door for a few minutes. The truth was, I was tired to fight with Niall but I knew it was inevitable. I knew that one of us would say something to annoy the other on purpose. We were both quite good at this game, and I was not in the mood for it. I was also a bit scared that I'd catch him naked on top of a girl again and although I knew it would probably help me with my goal of hating him, I also knew it would hurt me and I was even less in the mood for that. Slowly, I brought my hand to the knob but I felt my heartbeats accelerate and pressed my lips together before putting my palm on the door gently. I took a step closer, turning my head and trying to listen to what was happening on the other side. It seemed to be quiet and I breathed in before quickly turning the knob and walking in.

Niall was not there and the room was quiet. I blinked a few times and closed the door slowly as I was getting a notification. As I grabbed my phone, I realized how sweaty my hands were and how stressed this whole thing was making me.

'Dev, where are you?'

'Can I crash in your room tonight?' I just typed and sent, ignoring his question.

I watched the three dots move for a few seconds before I sighed of relief as I got his answer.

'Of course'

As Louis had mentioned to me, I was lucky that his roommate had recently got a girlfriend and was often gone a few nights in a row because we weren't sure if he would just accept to share the room with me. I had been crashing for two night already in his room, making sure that Niall was out whenever I needed to get something in our room.

When I received a text message in the morning, I groaned, a bit mad that I kept the sound of my phone on. I started late on wednesday's and I could really use more sleep. It was true that I spent my free time with Louis in his room, but most of the time, we were busy with studying and school projects. I was starting to think I was getting a bit on his nerves but I had a job interview in a few days and hopefully, I would get it and be able to rent a room. I hadn't talked to Louis about it because I knew he would try to talk me out of it and somehow, I knew he would succeed.

'7pm at the library'

I sighed when I read Daxia's message and closed my eyes again before sending her a thumb up and putting my phone away again. I lied down on my back, my head on Louis' pillow and I heard him groan next to me. Poor Louis, I was invading his room and invading his bed. It really was time I would give him his space back and find a new place to live.

"Sorry If I woke you up." I whispered, my eyes fluttering open.

"No, it's cool." he said in a husky voice. "Is everything okay?"

"Yea, It's just that project..." I shook my head a bit and shrugged. "I'm dreading this."

"No, you're stressed to see Niall again. You've been avoiding him for two days and knowing you, you'd keep doing it for months." he pointed out before clearing his throat. "This can't be mentally healthy, you know that, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Louis sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes before sending me an annoyed face. "Are you kiddin' me? Dev, trying to hate someone that you actually have feelings for is not a healthy way to deal with this."

"What's the right way? Letting him hurt me over and over again?" I frowned, sitting up slowly. "Anyway, it's just a few hours, I've got this."

Rolling his eyes, Louis got up and searched through his stuff for a towel. "Okay, do as you please." he let out, shrugging a shoulder, but I could read a bit of anger in his voice. "If it changes anything, he likes you too, and he's trying to fight it too. You two are oblivious. And obvious. Oh you know what? You're also both obnoxious!"

"Any other adjective that starts with an 'O'?" I asked a bit rudely, making him turn his head quickly in my direction.

"Yes! Obstinate! And... and... overbearing!" he continued a bit louder. "And obscene, but that's a different story."

My eyes got bigger and a smile drew itself on my lips, making him chuckle. I grabbed one of his pillow and threw it at him, making him laugh even more as he turned a shoulder to block it.

"Shut up!"

"Heyyy, be nice!" he joked, raising his nose up. "I'm letting you sleep in my room so you owe me!"

I knew he was joking but my amused smile turned into a fond one. "I know, thank you Louis. Thank you so much."

I walked to the library a few minutes late and immediately noticed Daxia, sitting at a table a bit further, her books spread on it as she scribbled something quickly. I walked up to her but it took her a few seconds to notice me and she just sent me a small smile as she gathered all her books.

"Good, you're finally here." she whispered, getting up. "Come on, I reserved us a room so we don't bother everyone and we can talk a bit louder."

I nodded and followed her for about half a minute but when I stepped foot in the room, my smile fell and my heart sank. Niall was already there, sitting at the table with Asher, and I had no idea that seeing him again would make my heart drop in my stomach. He looked up at me, the same damn lock of his hair falling on his forehead before he passed his hand in his hair, pushing it back. I held my breath when out eyes met until I realized Daxia took a seat next to Asher and I was the only left standing up. I cleared my throat and took the only seat left, which, of course, happened to be next to Niall.

After a bit more than two hours, we had managed to put both parts of the project together (the one Niall and I had worked on, and the one Asher and Daxia wrote), and we were working on a conclusion.

"Devon, you can not seriously tell me that Dali was the most important surrealist painter of all times!" Niall argued firmly with a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Without Breton, surrealism wouldn't even exist!"

"That is the most stupid thing I've heard today!" I let out, feeling slightly insulted.

"He's the founder of it all!" Niall continued, getting his back straight and frowning at me. "Argue with that!"

"He founded the movement!" I corrected him. "And being the first doesn't mean being the best!"

"This is ridiculous, you're delusional!"

"Now, that's an argument!" I replied with sarcasm. "And Dali was the only one who didn't need drugs to paint!"

"So he was insane even sober? Big deal!"

"SHUT. UP!"

Niall and I stopped immediately at Asher's voice but we kept looking at each other, and something in my stomach stirred. Despite the fact that I believed in what I was saying, I would normally have a calm conversation and probably even agree on some of the things he said. But it was Niall, and I had to do everything to hate him, right?

If I wanted to be honest, though, I had enjoyed our discussion and it would have been near perfection if we hadn't almost yelled at each other.

"You know what? I'll just finish the last few sentences by myself." Daxia proposed with a sigh before getting up. "I think we're all a bit tired."

Asher did the same and finally, Niall and I got up at the same time. We walked out of the library and when I heard my name, my heart skipped a beat. Why did it sound so special in his mouth?

"Need a ride?" he added after I turned to look at him.

The left corner of my lips raised up and I nodded once as we walked together to his car.

"Thank you." I told very low, glancing at him.

"No problem."

We remained silent until he parked his car and he finally turned to me, raising his eyebrows. "You know there's actually no proof that Dali didn't do drugs, right?"

"He used other methods." I shrugged.

"Doesn't mean he didn't also do drugs." he explained, making me tilt my head. "Besides, painters were the worst. They were always drunk or high, especially surrealist painters. You just like Dali's methods because they were... well, they were insane but unique."

I sent him a small smile and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Did you ever try?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a smile. "Like, staying an hour on your head or, that spoon thing?"

This time, I chuckled and shook my head. "No, I don't work with dreams or images. I mostly work with my feelings."

"That's bold, don't you think? That means people can literally see your soul."

My heart skipped a beat and i lost my smile before swallowing hard. "You do it too with your music." I pointed out in a whisper. "People can hear your soul."

"Touché." he breathed out with a sad smile. "It's a big deal to share that with the world, isn't it?"

"Yes."

I leaned my head on the seat, my upper body turned his way, and when his eyes met mine, I remembered that time he drove Louis and I back to our room. I remembered the kiss and the way he was gentle and sweet. I wanted him to always be like that with me.

"Where were you for the past two nights?"

"I was not even sure you noticed I wasn't there." I chuckled.

"I did." he replied, glancing at his hands on the wheel before looking back at me. "I thought maybe you took a break and went to your parents' or something. I mean you were pretty pissed."

My smile vanished and this time, the image that came back in my head was Niall naked on top of a girl. I swallowed the lump in my throat and cleared it, looking away.

"I was not... I was not pissed." I just replied, a bit scared that he'd ask more about it. After all, I couldn't tell him I was jealous and hurt, right? "I was not very far, I was in Louis' room."

Silence. I finally looked up at him and his face had completely changed. He stopped the car and opened his door as I did the same and followed him.

"Good, well you should sleep there tonight too." he let out rudely, not looking at me.

"Why?"

"You said to tell you when I'd have a girl over?" he added, raising his eyebrows as we walked up the stairs. "Well there will be a girl over in our room tonight."

"Oh."

He unlocked the door and threw his keys on his bed, turning swiftly to me and crossing his arms on his chest. He looked mad and it hurt me more than I wanted to admit. That was exactly why I had to hate him, but it was probably one of the hardest thing I tried to do in my life.

"Grab your stuff, alright? Louis is probably waiting for you."

I stared at him for about a minute, remaining motionless, and finally grabbed a few things. He didn't move and when I was ready to go, I stood in front of him but he was avoiding my eyes.

"Well, goodnight I guess." I murmured and shrugged. "Thanks for the ride, too."

Without thinking, I took a step closer and got on my tiptoes. His eyes finally met mine and his angry expression turned into a surprised one. I kissed his cheek softly, my lips barely touching his skin but I still could feel his stubble scratch my chin anyway. I felt my heart jump in my throat at how bold I was and got back on my feet quickly.

"That was a nice discussion."

I could tell him that I hoped he'd have a great time, but it would be a lie, so I pressed my lips together and took a step back.

"When we didn't yell at each other, yea, it wasn't so bad." he added.

The left corner of my lips raised up in a sad smile and I nodded. It was nice to see a soft expression on his face instead of anger and I breathed in, turning around and leaving. I closed my eyes right after I closed the door and tried to hold back the tears inside. What the fuck was I doing? I was supposed to hate him, and not let my emotions invade me and get the best of me.

Why was I trying so hard not to cry that my throat actually hurt from it? Why did it matter if Niall was going to have sex with an other girl? It's not like I was an option in his mind anyway. But the question that echoed in my head over and over again was, why did it hurt me instead to make me hate him?

I jumped and got out of my thought when my phone made a sound. I knew it was Louis and I just breathed in and out a few times, trying to get back to my senses. I didn't want to bother Louis with my feelings again, and I was not in the mood to have a discussion about Niall. Daxia was right, we were tired. In fact, I was exhausted. I had no idea how I'd manage to go to class, study, work on project, paint and work all at the same time. There had to be an other option but I couldn't seem to find it and I just took a few steps before knocking softly on Louis' door. I could find a solution tomorrow, and anyway, it was not like my brain was functioning properly anyway.

I couldn't stop thinking about Niall and what he was about to do, and my heart ached every single time I thought about what I had seen before. It was one thing to imagine it, but when it was an actual image from an actual memory, it was even worse.

Louis was almost already asleep when I step foot in his room. I just put sweatpants and a hoodie on and joined him in bed without a word. I was tired but I couldn't seem to fall asleep and when I did, I couldn't stop the nightmares from taking over my mind. Maybe I should actually paint from my dreams, too, just like Dali. But then, my painting would only involve a broken heart and two naked forms.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan au #niall horan college au #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years

Note

Ah! I forgot to ask what you think of the Angel event. In my opinion, it's not a bad event, but god was it weird. Maybe I'm just weird and I think people being super nice is too suspicious (considering I am STILL sus of Simeon). I think I would have liked it more if the ending wasn't the party but instead them turning back and we get to tell them that we like them just the way they are

I have pretty mixed feelings about this. I didn’t like the actual content of the event but I did like the potential hints of a backstory that you can dig outta it. Hear me out;

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE:

How they were lied to and forced into the clothes and into their roles during this event

How uncomfortable, angry and scared they initially all were

How this was more or less rather cruelly making them live through their past trauma (for a party?????) not to mention digging up Satan’s identity issues

How this was essentially brainwashing because the brothers’ personalities did a complete 180 and didn’t even seem to notice it when in reality, we were previously told there weren’t any major personality changes between their time as angels and demons (for example as angels, Lucifer was still arrogant and prideful, Mammon was still a troublemaker, Asmo was still vain and Belphie was still lazy)

It casts a very black and white image on what angels and demons are like when om! has proven countless times before that it isn’t like that.

WHAT I DID LIKE:

So on the surface level this event was messed up, but like what if it was supposed to be messed up? Maybe I’m looking into it too much but this event gives a beautiful view on what the actual angels and celestial realm is like. This event, to me, states three points:

1. The event itself is meant to be perceived as messed up:

The devs went to the extra trouble of adding scenes where Solomon and Luke are distinctly uncomfortable with what is happening and Solomon even calls the magic used ‘scary’, they didn’t have to waste time doing this if the event was supposed to come off as endearing and lighthearted. It’s also distinct that it’s Solomon saying this given that he’s ancient, has pacts with 72 demons, and the game hints at his meeting with Asmo being similar to Asmodeus and Solomon’s biblical meeting which was messed up and dark af. So I think it’s safe to say whatever he sees as wrong and scary would not be an exaggeration

2. The Celestial Realm has a set black and white view of what demons and angels are like, and the bangles are supposed to make the wearer act opposite to the Celestial Realm’s view of demons, even if the wearer’s actual personality is not actually like that view

One main storyline hint for this is from lesson 40, where the voice in the light (presumably Michael) says that given how much the brothers like MC he would have expected them to be wicked, EXCEPT while yeah the brothers do heavily show their sins none of them are outright evil?? Like if they are pissed they’d attack but overall in general they’re all just kinda…chill? If anything given their personalities it would make more sense for them to be attracted towards someone who accepts and loves them for who they are than they would be towards someone who was wicked. But Michael just assumed ‘demons = evil so someone they like would also be evil’

The biggest hint at this within the event is MC’s interaction with ‘angelic’ Mammon cause he says a bunch of things that go directly against what has been established so far.

a.) Mammon apologizes for the way he treats MC EXCEPT he’s being by MC’s side since like a week after meeting them? He makes a pact with them even though he just as easily could have just grabbed Goldie from them given that he’s the fastest. He never steals from them and later actually starts working legit jobs to earn money when he wants to buy them something, which is apparently fairly often. He bandages their wrist even though he told them he wouldn’t go out of his way to help them. He agrees to their stupid plans even though he knows he’ll get in trouble. He goes against and stands up to Lucifer for them despite being scared of Lucifer. He forgives them almost instantly after they lie about Belphie and all of this is just from season 1 cause the man’s even softer for MC in season 2

b.) Mammon talks about selling his things to provide for human kids EXCEPT this is something he already does? One of the main reasons he’s always in debt is cause the Witches take advantage of him and the fact that through them he’s providing for a homeless orphan human child.

3. It paints a picture of the Celestial Realm as a controlling, ‘this and only this is the right way’, ‘we’d do anything for our notion of peace and order’ kind of world and it’s something the game has hinted at before:

The Celestial Realm decided to execute Lilith for loving and healing a human, while the Devildom (Diavolo) just reincarnated her and let her live amongst the humans

While in Celestial Realm the twins and Lilith had to sneak off to the human world while Diavolo straight up just brought two humans to the Devildom so he could bring about peace between the realms

The angels seem to be raised to view the demons as evil without any evidence to support it (Lucifer as an angel refusing to even look at Diavolo, Luke’s whole initial attitude towards demons) while as far as we know demons don’t really do this (Diavolo’s pov of his meeting with angel lucifer, lots of the background demons seem to just view Luke as a cute puppy)

Lucifer’s obsession with needing to follow the rules, needing to bend over backwards for Diavolo, being strict with his brothers, being this calm and collected, perfect always in control being. We learnt in the Celestial Realm that Lucifer was more callous and outspoken, and given that he rebelled against his father and started a war probably had less regard for rules and authority figures. The reason why Lucifer is the way he is in the Devildom could be due to him blaming himself for Lilith’s death because not only did he let her break the rules but he broke them himself which then led to the war

The celestial Realm was willing to do this whole magic bangle with which is highly amoral for a party? That’s like peak control freak, and as someone who is very much 100% a control freak I feel like I have the right to judge

So yeah, overall while I don’t like the actual event I like all its implications and the irony that the event with the angels is one of the darker events

Hated the ending though, I’ve more or less made an outline for a personally more satisfying ending for this event based around the magic ending almost immediately after the last chapter and a lot of hurt/comfort, angst and talking through feelings, their sense of self and their actual life in the celestial realm between all the characters but my work ethic is shit rn so :/

Obviously this is just my interpretation but I’d be more than willing to talk about this with you guys!

#asks #answers #obey me spoilers #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me!#swd obey me #obey me!#obey me mammon #swd mammon #om! mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader

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badbadbucky · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday!! 3/3/2021

Once again, it is my favorite time of the week, WIP Wednesday!

Here is a snippet from my new novel, One of the Restless, a story about a werewolf motorcycle gang, whose leader was murdered.

In this section, Johnny has discovered that Chris is a werewolf and they are trying to get to Salt Lake City before the sunsets and the full moon overtakes Chris. Johnny is a stringer, which is a kind og magician capable of manipulating the strings of the universe, but sometimes the strings overwhelm him and he gets horrific migraines.

The strings were getting harder to ignore. The air all around them was sparkling gold as the sun worked its way to its final terminus in the sky, some strings cut the light like a prism. Johnny could feel more strings wrapping around his throat and his eyes and his mind, squeezing it. Whenever he spoke, he could feel the conversation string pinning his tongue down.

He had to keep concentrating, but he also had to keep the scared kid in the passenger seat from freaking out and killing them both. “It’s gonna be okay,” Johnny said. “We’ll make it.”

Chris nodded, though he kept his eyes squeezed closed, breathing in and out very slowly and deliberately.

The gas gauge was almost on empty. They had to stop. Johnny pulled off at the next exit into a truck stop. He pulled up to the pumps and felt around for his wallet in the back seat. It was nowhere to be found. Johnny turned to look and see if it had fallen on the floorboards in the back, but the backseat was a lush thicket of strings, most originating from his bag. He couldn’t see anything back there. Johnny closed his eyes and felt around some more, just trying to find it by blind touch. The longer he couldn’t find it, the worse his head pounded. Fucker. Fucker. Where was it?

Johnny looked in his side mirror and saw the attendant approaching, pausing his inexorable trudge forward only briefly to unscrew the gas cap. Typically, attendants liked to be compensated, but Johnny still couldn’t find his wallet. Nightmare scenarios of leaving it in the rest stop played in his mind, only exacerbating the headache.

Chris tapped Johnny on the shoulder. “Let me get it,” he said.

Johnny nodded stiffly, and Chris easily reached into the back and grabbed the wallet, his hand passing effortlessly through the strings. He handed the wallet to Johnny. “Thank you,” Johnny said. He rolled down his window and handed the attendant a $100 bill. “Fill it up please.” The attendant started the gas and walked away. Johnny turned to Chris. “You know how to drive?” he asked. Johnny couldn’t imagine a world in which Dev hadn’t taught his kid to drive.

“Yeah, why?” Chris asked.

“I gotta go in for a minute.” Johnny was running out of painkillers, and various other supplies that were going to make the last leg of the journey bearable. “If the tank is full before I get back, take the change, and pull the car around to where the trucks are, out thatta way.” He pointed to the eastern end of the Truck Stop where there were long lines of semis parked. He couldn’t take Chris inside with him, but at least it was a bit more out of the way, so if Chris did end up changing early, he was less likely to be spotted. People had a sort of unspoken agreement not to look in the windows of the rigs that parked out there. “I’m gonna leave the keys with you, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay,” Chris said.

Johnny gave Chris a brief smile and climbed out of the car, hustling into the minimart next to the pumps. The fluorescents of the store screamed into his eyes, and his head screamed back. He pushed his dark sunglasses up higher, to block out as much of the offending light as he could. He ignored the stare of the hollow-cheeked checkout girl and the short squat blond man, eyeing him through the glass door of the beer cooler. Johnny trolled through the limited selection of the pharmaceutical section, choosing some shit called DNT SLP--that was just one step below speed--and a few bottles of Motrin. He also grabbed a bag of gummi worms for the kid. He paid for his purchases and then got the key to the bathroom.

Johnny had to exit the minimart and walk around the outside of the building to reach the bathrooms, he and the blond man were walking out at the same time. Johnny held the door open for the blond man, but the man just stood there until Johnny went through. Johnny looked over toward the large truck lot and saw the nose of the Olds poking out from behind a purple Peterbilt, so at least he knew the kid was okay. The blond guy climbed into his pickup and drove away. Johnny unlocked the bathroom, stepped inside, and turned on the light.

The fluorescents flickered unsteadily, creating a strobe light for the insect carcases inside the plastic cover. Damp strips of toilet paper littered the floor, brown crumpled paper towels overflowed from the small metal trash can set into the wall. Johnny ignored the toilet, instead opting to go over to the sink. He lowered his glasses and stared at his right eye, one moment it was simply red and bulging, the pupil slightly larger than the one on the left, the next there were strings running through it and sliding uncomfortably as he moved. He squeezed his eyes shut and splashed water on his face. He reached out to grab a towel from the dispenser and found it was empty.

Johnny giggled softly to himself and hiked up the front of his dress to wipe his face off. He’d have to re-do his makeup before they got to Salt Lake, he had to look presentable. The flickering of the fluorescents above intensified, sending a new spike of pain into Johnny’s eye, killing the ridiculous idea that he would have the time for that. Johnny tumbled a few pills from the DNT SLP and Motrin into his palm. He tossed the pills into his mouth, then turned on the sink and used his hand as a cup for water to drink the pills down with.

The girl at the counter, didn’t say anything when Johnny brought the key back in.

“How far to Salt Lake City from here?” Johnny asked.

“‘Bout 80 miles,” the girl said.

Johnny smiled at her. “Thanks.”

Johnny exited the minimart and walked toward the Olds parked behind the Peterbilt. He heard a diesel pickup pull up behind him. He stepped off to one side, to let the pickup pass by, but the pickup didn’t pass by. Johnny turned around. “You go ahead,” he called out.

The truck very slowly rolled forward, and Johnny saw the driver was the blond man from the store. In the passenger seat was a big tall man with a thick beard and a camo ballcap.

“Christ, you are one ugly broad,” Blondie said.

“Still out of your league, Slim,” Johnny said. Then laughed a bit to himself, the timing could not have been more perfect. This was exactly the type of shit he did not have time for and yet he’d elected to make it worse. He couldn’t just ignore them, of course not, he was Johnny Briggs, the man, the mouth, the legend.

Slim’s smug face disappeared. He’d clearly been expecting Johnny to just scurry away. He stopped the pickup and turned it off. “What did you say, you fucking faggot?”

“I said maybe if you looked a bit more like Keifer Sutherland and a bit less like the midget from the Island of Doctor Moreau, you might have a chance with me,” Johnny said. “I truly applaud your ambition.”

Blondie spat a brown spurt of tobacco juice through the air, it smacked the pavement and some splashed onto the toe of Johnny’s cowboy boot.

#wip wednesday #writblr #writeblr #writing #writersociety #writers on tumblr #werewolves #trans main character #tw homophobia #one of the restless

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make-it-mavis · 4 years

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Homesick (Entry #33)

(cw: discussion of addiction) ----------

01/21/88 3:30 PM

Hey.

So… therapy.

Therapy, therapy, therapy.

If you were here, you’d no doubt want to hear how it went. Or how it didn’t go. How much I botched it, or what garbage mumbo jumbo it was. I wouldn’t blame you. Me, going to counselling? Group counselling? No way.

But I would also tell you to hold your horses, because before therapy came detox. Oh, yes. Me and my good friend, withdrawals. Not fun to hear about, I know. Less fun to experience.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of how sick I was. I’ve described it enough times by now. Let’s just say that it was twice as bad as the worst withdrawals I had ever had before. It had all the usual intense illness, but peppered with little blackouts. I also practically went insane over the need for GC. But, being confined to my game, there was no way to get any. Fix-it endured a whole lot of my screaming and breakdowns… again. At some point he took away my brush for my own good, and as outraged as I was, I think that mostly snapped me out of it from then on out. I could have my brush as long as I stayed calm. I was being treated like a freakin’ child, but I had to just roll with it. I was too weak to fight him, and I couldn’t be without buffs and without my brush.

As I started to come to my senses, I began to remember and understand the memory that I saw in my trip more and more. But what was strange to me was that I could hardly manage to feel anything over it. I knew for sure that those memories were packed full of emotions that could have wrecked me. But at the time, I felt numb to them. As if they just weren’t a priority compared to all else I’d been dealing with. The whole concept of counselling was taking up a whole lot of space in my brain, and I guess I could only feel so much at once. I suppose I ought to have felt thankful for that, but honestly, I felt kind of guilty.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe I felt like you deserved to have someone hurting over you, even though I’d already offered up so much pain. And even though I knew I still had more to give.

Still, slowly but surely, I recovered. It took the full two weeks for me to fully detox. Even then, I wasn’t at 100%. I was, maybe, 85%. I wasn’t shivering and throwing up anymore, but I still felt like a damp, moldy rag.

It was around that point that I finally told Fix-it that I would try counselling.

I think he tried his best to play it cool so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed out of my decision by his enthusiasm, but I could tell he was overjoyed. Not disappointing him for once felt… different.

He went to tell Surge as promised, and he came back with a little pamphlet about the program for me to look over leading up to the first session. Just looking at the thing nearly turned me off from the idea, and actually opening it up and reading it was… so much worse.

The program seemed to be built upon twelve ‘steps’ (hurdles, more like): Honesty, Hope, Surrender, Courage, Integrity, Willingness, Humility, Love, Responsibility, Discipline, Awareness, and Service.

Yeah. That’s a lot of gross words.

As if that wasn’t enough on its own, so many descriptions for these supposed steps were so explicitly Devout, like my faith in the Devs would be what pulled me through this whole thing. Reading it, I almost wondered if I was being tricked into some kind of cult, or enlisted in some kind of military conditioning. Everything about it screamed that I would not fit in. At all. It wouldn’t work, I’d just humiliate myself, and I’d be locked up for two years anyway.

I wanted to quit. Really badly.

But one thought of Tapper was all it would take to guilt me back into it.

When I was ready as I’d ever be, I met Surge in our cord station, and he let me know just how things were going to work. Sessions were on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 PM ‘til midnight, and they would be held in the center of Pac-Man. Yeah, Pac-Man, where some of the best GC is, and where I had my last hit that had been so devastating. I pointed out the bad decision to Surge, and he assured me that he was aware of the risks. He had a few volunteer guards attending all the meetings, making sure no one slipped into the maze to get high. Besides, the whole thing was run by that little orange ghost, Clyde. Why? I don’t know. I guess he’s a philanthropist or something. But keeping him in his own game seemed like the safest option on his part, which seemed fair.

I still think it was stupid.

Surge would escort me to and from the meetings, but I would go in alone. He has too much work to do to sit in on a group therapy session for an hour and a half. But then he told me the worst part -- I could not bring my brush and paint can to the meetings. My tools were to remain in my game. They were considered weapons, which, in the right context, they can be. That much was fair. Less fair was the fact that when too much distance is put between me and my tools, my code gets stretched out. I glitch, I get very, very uncomfortable, and am definitely put in a far less receptive state to counselling that I already don’t want to attend. I explained as much to Surge, including the fact that my brush didn’t even have its full spectrum at the time, but it was no use. Defective or not, I’m too powerful with my brush.

It would have been flattering if it didn’t suck so damn much.

But, I agreed to it. I just wanted to get it all over with. It felt so humiliating and futile. I’ve never been the sort to tolerate being locked in with a bunch of losers blubbering about their feelings, or whatever the hell. I automatically reject pretty much any and all advice, just by reflex. I could not imagine having someone tell me what to do about deeply personal, painful feelings and having it help literally anything. Knowing me, it might have just made it worse.

Yet, despite all that, there was a very real, very conscious part of me that was willing to give it a real shot. I was almost at the end of my rope, just holding onto fraying strands. I wanted to get better, I really did.

So I went into this experience holding onto that will like a lifeline.

Surge escorted me to Pac-Man that night, and, obviously, I went in alone. Inside, right off the train, there were these two big army guys from Front Line waiting at the entrance of the maze. Seemed like a good choice for guards, with how beefy they are. They walked with me into the dark maze, and as we wove through the bends and corners, I just kept thinking about how easily I could drop both of them and run off for a sweet hit of GC if I had my brush. Which just validated Surge’s decision to ban my tools, I guess.

We arrived at the conference room, and my burly chaperones opened the doors to show me in. When I entered, I jumped. Everyone was already there. A group of around nine or ten sat in a circle, and all eyes among them were fixed on me. Along with the eyes of that little orange ghost himself.

“Make-it Mavis,” he called calmly. “Welcome.”

I did not feel particularly welcome, not with the nervous looks and spiteful glares pointed my way. I just stood there, waiting to be told what to do. I was not interested in pleasantries. I just wanted to do the work and go.

Sensing that, Clyde nodded to an empty chair next to him. “Come, sit. Don’t be shy.”

I wanted to throw a retort at him, but I just went with it. Every time I got the urge to screw it all up, I remembered Tapper, and hot shame in my belly put me back in line. I had to do everything I could to ensure that I would never do something like what I did to his game again. I had already spent too long thinking your blood was on my hands. I did not need to throw someone else’s into the mix.

I walked into the fluorescent-lit meeting room and took my seat, and noted immediately that the space around it was far more generous than anyone else was getting, like even the chairs were scared of me. I felt so low, so hot, so embarrassed. I was in a massive hole that I’d tunneled my own way into, putting me on the same level as all those other miserable suckers. I was only there because I had been too weak to stop myself from taking my last buff. I couldn’t stop berating myself over it all. I was lethargic, sweating, ashamed, with my code stretched clear across the arcade. At least the cold metal chair felt pretty good on my feverish ass. I had that going for me.

“Alright, everybody,” Clyde addressed the group in a non-threatening voice, “let’s open up this evening by welcoming our newest member, Make-it Mavis.”

Silence. There were a few hesitant murmurs, so quiet that I definitely would not have heard them if the room was not already silent as the grave.

“Come on now,” Clyde prompted gently. “Say hello, everyone.”

I folded my arms and sighed. “They all knew I was coming,” I grumbled to Clyde, before saying to the group, “Yeah, I know. I’m here. And you don’t like it. Well, TS, ‘cause neither do I. Better learn to deal with it.”

“Actually,” Clyde responded, “there is some truth in what you’re saying, Mavis. None of us wanted to find ourselves in these situations, but everyone in this group did. And maybe we don’t understand each other as well as we could, but that’s just because we don’t know each other’s stories. That’s why we share them here, so we can recognize that addiction arises from a feeling that all living beings share -- pain. We are stronger against pain when we are united, rather than divided.”

There were a few appreciative claps. I wanted to blow my brains out.

“Everyone did know you were coming,” he told me. “But why don’t you give us an introduction in your own words? Maybe let us know why you’re here?”

He was already placing way too much trust in me. Still, I sighed loudly and stood, looking out over the group. Some were big, some were small, most I’d seen in passing, but all were looking at me with full understanding of who I was. An introduction felt superfluous and quite daunting at that point.

"You…" I said slowly, leading into a sigh. "You all know. Or you think you know. There's no point. Just-- just forget it and get this rollin', okay?"

I sat down.

There was no applause, not even awkward and scattered. There was only silence, while some glared at me and others squirmed anxiously. Even Clyde was silent for a moment, but I could see him studying me out of my peripheral.

He then spoke as pleasantly as ever, “You’re not feeling ready to share. That’s alright. Everyone’s expected to participate, but we go at our own pace. Remember that there are no judgments here, and nothing leaves this room.” He then addressed the group, “Why don’t we welcome our newest member with our own introductions? We’ll go clockwise from my left.”

The introductions began, and I made a painful effort to listen. For the most part, they seemed to be the same basic sob story. The unplugging on the 7th put the fear of Litwak in them, and buffs were the only way to escape the existential horrors they had been plunged into. It was supposed to make me feel welcome, but it seemed to just piss me off. It felt like a punishment. I was supposed to sit in a room with a bunch of random losers and pretend we were going through the same thing. All of them could go home after the meeting and have a life waiting for them in the morning. They had roles. They had purpose. They probably still had plenty of sprites who loved them. I didn’t see how I could stand to benefit from the same treatment as sprites who had not gone through the hell I did. Sprites who could walk down Game Central free from harassment or attempts on their life. Who were not being blamed for a tragedy they had nothing to do with. Whose dead best friend was not being remembered as the most hated, corrupt, murderous sprite in history, while they barely had the space to mourn.

But as they carried on, I began to hear things I didn't understand. There was grief in their voices. Some said that buffs were their only escape from how much they missed someone. They talked about loved ones and game mates being lost to the 'Roadblasters incident,' and at the time, it made no sense to me. Up until that point, I thought that you, the twins, and all of Roadblasters were the only casualties. But according to these sprites, some were 'mowed down,' 'caught in the blast,' or even 'burned to death.' Apparently, you'd killed a handful of innocent bystanders somehow, which is… I mean, I’m not gonna lie to you.

That’s horrible.

Obviously, I remembered none of it. Well, I thought I didn’t. But there were things buried in my brain that burned like coals with every story that came. My mind didn't feel right, like it was suddenly struggling against the hold of reality, desperate to fly into another time. I felt so distressed by what I was hearing, so physically ill, that my sensitive, stretched-out code glitched slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for my hand to clip into the seat of my chair where I was gripping.

That was just what I needed. Another way to humiliate myself. It kept me distracted from the harrowing stories, at least, as I tried to find a subtle way to tug my hand out of the pixels of the chair.

Then... she spoke.

The sound of one of the group member's voices startled me so deeply that my hand glitched free again. Her voice was not abrupt or loud or frightening -- in fact, it was fairly low, just a smoky, raspy mutter. But I felt it wriggle down into the crevices of my brain, trying to connect with a memory.

I looked at her, but it did not help much at first. I had never seen her before, as far as I could recall. She was a bipedal insect creature, modestly bigger than me, with a dull, lavender carapace and yellow wings folded behind her. She had huge red eyes that took up most of her head, but her tiny slit pupils never seemed to look my way. I still remember exactly what she said.

"My name's Worluk, and I'm an addict," she said, as if she had said it many times before. "Senseless violence killed a sprite I considered a sister. I can't just accept a reality where that's allowed to happen. Where someone so innocent can just die and there's nothing I can do about it. Everything's wrong. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it right. Buffs took the edge off, but… they didn’t end up righting any wrongs."

As she spoke, I watched her serrated teeth and mandibles move, and stared at her weird spindly fingers that gave me some disembodied, distant ache. I knew her voice, I swore I did. But it sounded off-key. Out of context.

She finished her speech, "Committing crimes alone is one thing, but, then I got my friends involved and, y’know… that’s on me."

Then it hit me. It hit me like an ice-cold tidal wave made of everything I'd been through, everything that had led me to that moment. The nightmares. The trips. The echoing voice in my head that blamed me for your death. I should have recognized that voice the second I heard it.

It was hers.

My attacker, the ringleader of the attempt on my life in Dragon's Lair, that sick, disgusting psychopath who broke my brush and carved your name into my skin, was sitting just across the room from me.

The blood in my veins froze. My heart clenched. I could feel every sick, weak muscle in my body tighten with intent to spring, like an animal with prey in its sights. I stared at her, and she finally met my gaze coolly.

I thought getting through counselling was going to be hard before. I had no idea.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #original character #homesick

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angelsfalling16 · 4 years

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Chapter 3 of Just Wanna Be Happy

Chapter One

Read on ao3

Summary: After a night of drunken party games, Baz tries to remember what happened and whose number is on his arm while also dealing with the fact his two best friends aren’t talking to each other anymore.

Word Count: 2076

***

Simon

Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this game, I think as the first person spins the bottle. There isn’t anyone here that I particularly care to kiss, but somehow, I ended up agreeing to play it anyway. Luckily, the bottle doesn’t land on me and I’m safe. For the moment at least.

Everyone else seems to be much drunker than I am, including Baz, which is surprising because he’s always so put together. It’s weird to see him just let go like this.

I’ve been watching him quite a bit tonight, and as the night goes on, he seems to loosen up more and more. I was surprised that he decided to play the game. This kind of thing seems beneath him.

I’ve had one drink that I’ve been sipping on all night, but I’m beginning to think that I’m a little too sober for this and wish that I had drunk more. Everyone else is happy and cheering, and I seem to be the only person hoping the bottle doesn’t land on them. I’m not sure what I’ll do when it’s my turn to spin.

Penny is sitting a few people down from me, and when she spins, it lands on me. We move towards each other and kiss each other on the cheek. A few people boo, but I just shrug and return to my seat and watch the rest of the game go on.

Baz’s friend, Niall, is next, and when he spins it, the bottle lands on their other friend, Dev. I expect their kiss to be as innocent as mine and Penny’s just was, but I’m shocked when they kiss full-on and stay locked together like that for so long that a couple of people begin to shift uncomfortably. Finally, someone pulls them apart.

I watch curiously as Niall whispers something to Dev and they both stand up and leave the game, disappearing into a corner of the room to be alone. Baz nods at his cousin with a raised brow, and a few people cheer, making me wonder if they were one of those couples that everyone except those two saw coming.

Must be nice. I wish that I was that in love. Sadly, I’m alone.

When it comes my turn to spin, the bottle lands on a girl I barely know, and we kiss briefly before the game continues on. It isn’t as nerve-wracking as I thought it would, but it also isn’t pleasant. I take another sip of my drink.

I watch various other pairings kiss, and a few lone people trickle away, either to get a drink or tired of kissing people they don’t like.

Baz has kissed three people so far. Two of them were guys, one of whom he kissed for an unexpectedly long time, much longer than either of the other people. The kiss with the girl was chaste and barely a kiss at all. I don’t know why I find this such an interesting an observance, but I begin to wish Penny was sitting next to me so that I could talk to her about it. (Though, she’d probably accuse me of being obsessed with him again.)

I’m just about to leave the game, too, when it’s my turn to spin again. I sigh. One more kiss can’t be that bad. I watch the bottle spin round and round in the middle of the circle before it begins to slow. I keep my eyes on it the entire time, and when I look up to see who it landed on, I just barely keep myself from gasping aloud.

Baz.

We silently move towards each other, meeting in the middle of the circle, and I’m almost certain that he’s about to hit me rather than kiss me. He’s looking at me the way that he does right before he starts a fight, and I brace myself for the impact of his fist.

But then he’s leaning closer to me, his eyes falling shut, and my heart does this little flutter.

It’s a weird feeling. It’s definitely not how I’m supposed to feel when the guy who hates me is about to kiss me, but in all honesty, I don’t hate him back.

It’s quite the opposite actually. Not that I’ve ever told anyone that. I haven’t even told Penny yet. Agatha and I just broke up not too long ago, and Baz hates me anyway. I don’t see a reason for anyone to know about how I feel. It’s not like anything will ever come of it.

This one kiss is the closest I’ll ever get to actually being in a relationship with Baz, so I lean in to meet him, my fingertips pressed to the floor both to steady me and to keep myself from fisting the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.

His lips are incredibly soft when they meet mine, and I jut out my chin to kiss him more firmly. He pushes back, and I’m pleasantly surprised by the fact that he hasn’t pulled away yet. The kiss lasts just a little bit longer than I expected it to, but Baz still pulls away sooner than I want him to.

I don’t look at him as I return to my seat, thinking that it’s about time that I quit the game. I stand up, running my fingertips lightly over my tingling lips. I want to remember that moment forever. Kissing Baz was better than I ever could have imagined.

A part of me wants to stay in the game in the hopes that I’ll get to kiss Baz again, but I don’t want to risk the chance of kissing someone else. The game has dwindled down to just a handful of people anyway.

The rest of the game breaks apart soon after I quit. The party is beginning to wind down, and I’m waiting on Penny to say goodbye to someone so that she can take me home when I catch sight of Baz out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching me not so surreptitiously, and I decide that I want to take a chance. If it doesn’t go well, I can always say that I was drunk. (Even though I’m not.)

Before I can move, though, he starts making his way over to me. He’s got this look of determination on his face, and I think that he’s chosen to hit me after all. He stops just in front of me and doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Hey, Baz,” I say, shifting my weight awkwardly, unsure of what’s happening.

He shakes his head, and before I can ask what that means, his hands are on my hips, and he backs me into a wall. He still doesn’t say anything, but then he’s leaning down, and I gasp as I realize what he’s doing.

He kisses me, and I’m not sure what this means, but I kiss him back. After a moment, I feel his tongue run along my bottom lip, and I part my lips to allow him in. When his tongue wraps around mine, I can taste the alcohol on him, and I realize the only reason he’s doing this is because he’s drunk.

That knowledge hurts, and I’m just about to push him away when he pulls back on his own.

“Goodnight, Simon,” he murmurs, and just like that, he’s gone, leaving me standing there feeling dazed and confused.

“What was that about?” Penny asks, stepping up beside me a moment later.

“I think I have feelings for him.” It’s not really an answer to her question, but I needed to tell someone the truth. I’m tired of keeping it locked up inside me.

“Does he share that sentiment?” She asks, her eyes falling on where he’s standing a few feet away.

“No idea.”

“Did you at least give him your number or something?” Leave it to Penny to be sensible.

“No.”

She rolls her eyes. “Here.” She pulls a permanent marker out of her bag and hands it to me. (It’s amazing how many odd things she can carry in that bag.) “Go give it to him before he leaves.”

I jog over to Baz, and without a word, I reach for his arm and scribble my number there. I write ‘call me’ underneath, and because I’m an idiot, I add a little heart. I think about writing my name there as well, but if he’s too drunk to remember that it’s me tomorrow, then it’s probably for the best.

I turn away before he can say anything, and I follow Penny out the door, a small grin building on my face. This night has given me a bit of hope that I never thought I would have.

***

I ended up crashing at Penny’s house last night. Sleeping on her bedroom floor was better than going back to my current foster home. They probably didn’t even notice I was gone. I can’t wait until we graduate and I can move out on my own for university.

I got up early this morning to leave, though. It’s always too crowded in her house, and I didn’t want to intrude more than I already had. I tried to get Penny to come with me to get breakfast, but she said that she planned to spend the entire day in bed.

I step inside the diner a few blocks from Penny’s house, and it’s packed, which isn’t too surprising for a late Saturday morning, but there aren’t any tables open. Even all the seats at the bar are taken.

Deciding to wait a few minutes to see if a spot opens up, I glance around the restaurant. That’s when I see Baz and his friends sitting in a booth at the far side of the diner.

I know it’s a really bad idea to walk over there, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I had hoped that Baz would have texted or called me this morning, but I woke to find no missed texts or calls. Maybe he decided to have breakfast first.

I know that’s just wishful thinking, but my stomach is rumbling, so I decide to take a chance and ask if I can join them.

I shouldn’t be so surprised when Baz scowls and turns away from me, but I won’t say that it doesn’t hurt. Dev tells me to have a seat, and he seems to be acting a little too friendly to me, seeing as we’ve never been friends.

I sit down, and a few moments later, a waiter comes to take my order, his eyes falling on Dev every few seconds. It’s odd but I write it off as nothing, too tired to really care. I order a stack of pancakes with some orange juice and lean back against the booth.

I glance at Baz while I wait for my food. He reaches for his glass of water, and I can see that his arm is bare. He scrubbed my number off already, which means he probably doesn’t plan on calling me.

I was a fool to think he would.

The waiter comes back with my food, but I’m no longer hungry. I want to leave, but that would be rude. Plus, I can’t just let Baz win. I can’t let him scare me off. So, I pick up my fork and force myself to eat.

The silence at this table is deafening. I would think it was because of me, except they didn’t seem to be talking to each other before I came over.

It’s strange to see that Dev and Niall aren’t sitting next to each other after the way that they were all over each other last night. I’m curious about what happened, but it isn’t my place to ask.

This breakfast is awful. Not the food - the food is great - but the company. I wish that I had kept walking and eaten at a place closer to my house. Anything would be better than sitting here replaying last night over and over in my head while Baz ignores me.

I was stupid to give him my number. He was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything. And as the backs of my eyes start to burn with tears of anger, I begin to wish that I was anywhere but here, even my small bedroom at home.

This was all a big mistake.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #carry on #wayward son #rainbow rowell #snowbaz fanfiction #my writing

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snow-pitch-grimm · 5 years

Text

In Your Dreams

Summary: A spell goes wrong and Simon finds himself sharing Baz's dreams.

Baz

It is supposed to be a simple truth revealing spell but of course, Snow has to mess it up.

And it has to involve me.

Stupid Snow.

At least he looks apologetic.

Which means, that he didn't look at me or take in the fact that I am covered in soot.

I wouldn't be surprised if my eyebrows have been singed off.

At least there didn't seem to be any lasting effects. No one is spilling their secrets, no one's thoughts are being broadcasted.

Ugh. There was soot in my hair too.

"Wow Baz," said Niall, as he opens the door for me, "Looking good,"

"Shut up," I growl at him, pushing him aside, "I'm using your bathroom,"

"Please, come in," says Niall sarcastically.

Dev is sitting on his bed and actually looks concerned when he sees me.

"What happened to you?" he asks, frowning at me

"Stupid Snow," I answer

"Ah," he says, shaking his head, "Why didn't you magically clean yourself?"

"Tried," I mutter, "Stupid Snow,"

Dev snorts at that, "Take some of my clothes. Extra towels in the bathroom,"

I nod and make a note to thank them later. I am grateful for the little reprieve these two give me from Snow and his antics and his pretty blue and bronze curls and that pretty smile.

Ugh. Stupid Snow.

SIMON

I felt just a little guilty for hitting Baz with that spell. Especially when he stomped off to Dev and Niall's room instead of ours.

Or at least I think he's going to their room. It's where he usually goes when I annoy him too much.

Sighing I go to find Penny. Maybe she'll cheer me up.

Later that night, when I come back to our room, he's already in bed and sound to be asleep. Without thinking too much about him, I get in bed and try to go to sleep.

Simon's laying in bed under me and, curls messy and eyes sparkling.

"Hey, Love," he whispers into the small space between us, "Kiss me,"

"As you wish,"

I lean down and press my lips to his, coax them open with my tongue.

I woke up feeling uncomfortable and like I wanted to jump out of my skin.

What the hell was that?

xxx

I had laid up all night.

"You look like shit, Snow," sneered Baz when he saw me come out of the bathroom

I ignore him and step out.

Penelope is already waiting for me in the dining hall and keeps shooting me concerned all through breakfast.

I ignore her too. All through the day, I'm distracted and as soon as I have a moment to myself, I wander to the edge of woods and think about my dream.

I had been kissing myself. But I had been thinking the other boy as if he as Simon and not me. What does that mean?

I ponder and ponder but nothing comes to mind. At last, I just let it go. Maybe it was just a weird fluke.

I wake up but keep my eyes closed, trying to savour the last of the post-sleep feeling.

"Hey," whispers a voice behind me, "Come on, Love. I know you're awake,"

I try to ignore him but in the end, I relent, I never could say no to him.

When I turn there are bright blue eyes staring at me, a big smile turned my way.

"Hey beautiful," Simon whispers, giving me a slow kiss, his hand against the side of my neck is gentle.

Until it starts choking me.

I open my eyes and Simon is no longer looking at me with Love in his eyes. Instead, he looks hateful.

"Monster," he says, and his hand tightens at my throat.

I startle awake.

What the fuck?

Not this again.

Across the room, Baz is also stirring.

I quickly lay down and pretend to sleep.

I'm going to have to figure this out.

xxx

"Something's wrong with my dreams," I tell Penelope

She frowns, "What do you mean?"

I tell her in hushed tones, making sure no one in the library hears us.

"Are you...sure?"

"Trust me, Penny," I say. "I thought it was a fluke too but then it happened again. It's really freaking me out,"

She nods, "Okay. Research it is,"

xxx

BAZ

Something is wrong with Snow.

He's avoiding me, he's jittery and distracted. He's spending more time in the library then he is in the dining hall.

Not to mention he hasn't accused me of being a vampire even once in the last few days.

I oddly want his attention back on me.

And at the same time, I don't.

God, he's so confusing.

I'm laying on my back and Simon is leaning over me.

"Hey, Baz," he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," I whimper

He leans down and presses his lips to mine, then to my neck, my collarbone, my-

I startle awake and before I can get my bearings right, Simon is standing at my bed, pulling me upright.

"It's you," he says accusingly, "What are you doing to me?"

"Let me go," I say harshly, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The dream, you arse. Why are we kissing? Is this another one of your plots, Baz?"

My heart sinks into my stomach.

xxx

Bunce is looking between us disbelievingly.

"So let me see if I got this right? Baz is having dreams of you two and Simon is alose having those dreams but he's playing Baz in the scenario,"

"I know I'm Simon in the dream but it's like the dreams don't know it. It feels like I'm kissing another Simon that looks exactly like me," says Simon.

Bunce's eyebrow shoots up.

"Kissing," she asks

"Yeah," mutters Simon and then turns towards me, "So what did you do?"

"Nothing," I cry out, "I didn't do anything. Do you really think I'd want you to see that,"

Simon frowns at me but Bunce nods.

"Makes sense,"

"Seriously Penny?" says Snow

"Come, on Simon," says Bunce, "If you were having those kinds of dreams about Baz, would you want him to know?"

Snow shakes his head and then looks at me, "Why are you having those kinds of dreams about me anyway?"

He genuinely looks confused and I can't take it anymore.

I run out of the room.

xxx

I spend the next two nights sleeping in Niall and Dev's room.

I want to stay longer but they're already starting to give me concerned glances. If I stay there any longer, they'll start asking questions I don't want to answer.

I'm still having dreams about Simon, not every night but enough for it to be very very uncomfortable. He doesn't follow me around anymore, doesn't accuse me of anything. Hell, he doesn't even look at me.

"So," says Bunce, "Are the dreams involving both of you the only ones Simon is seeing,"

"Umm, let's see, I had a dream about my childhood room the other night. Did you see that?"

Simon shakes his head.

"Hmm," says Bunce, "These dreams are almost like a confession like-wait! when did these start?"

"A week or so ago," says Simon

"Right after you blasted Baz with that revealing spell,"

"Oh I, I guess yeah," says Simon

Bunce nods, "It probably went a little wonky because of your magic. The good thing is spells like that always have a reversal spell. You only need to find it. Now get out of here and let me work,"

We both walk out together, and Simon stops me just outside of the library.

"I'm sorry," he says softly

I nod. I'm too tired, emotionally and physically, to really care.

As I walk away, Simon tries to say something else but I wave him off.

"Simon," I whisper, "I love you,"

He looks back at me with a cruel smile

"But I don't love you," he sneers, "Never did. Why should I? You're pathetic. I could do so much better,"

I wake up with my heart pounding in my chest and breath caught in my throat. I can feel the tears sliding down my cheeks.

"Baz," whispers Simon from close to me. He's standing close to my bed with a concerned look on his face, "Are you okay?"

It makes me cry harder.

SIMON

Baz is crying.

Like really crying, body shaking with the force of his sobs.

"Baz," I say, sitting down on his bed, "Hey, Baz. Please look at me,"

He shakes his head and buries it in his hands.

My heart hurts for him. This past week has been an eye-opener for me. I finally understand a few things about Baz...and myself.

After analyzing my dreams, I realized that I wasn't averse to Baz having those kinds of feelings about me, I even liked it a little.

It made watching him cry over the last dream so much worse.

"Baz," I say, "I'm going to touch you, okay?"

"Why," he says, looking up from his hands, face still a mess, "Why are you sitting here? Why are you being nice? Do you really think I'm that pathetic,"

I shake my head, "I don't think that Baz. The opposite really. Considering the dream, you're actually the on that thinks you're pathetic,"

He laughs and it's hollow, "I'm a vampire in love with my enemy, the Great Chosen one. How more pathetic can a person get?"

"Oh, Baz," I whisper, "Can I touch you?"

"Why?"

"I just wanna hug you, make you feel better,"

"Why?" he asks again, looking a little scared.

"Baz, please. This is my fault. Just let me make you feel better,"

He finally nods and I move forward to take me in my arms. We lay down together and we fall asleep with him cuddled to my chest.

When I wake up he's already out of bed and doesn't look me in the eye.

Baz

Penelope found the reversal spell.

"Now remember, we don't know if it will work so don't be disappointed,"

We nod.

She lifts her hand and says the spell.

"All the truth is out,"

The blow of it is so strong that I'm nearly blown back. Simon also holds on to the table to keep himself upright.

"I'd say it worked," says Simon

He's about to turn toward me but I quickly make my way out of there.

I feel so lost that it hurts.

When I get to my room, I take out my cell phone and make a call in the bathroom.

"Malcolm Grimm speaking,"

"Hello Father," I whisper into the receiver

"Basilton?" he says, sounding worried, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," I lie, "I just wanted to call,"

I know he's not buying it but he doesn't ask anything either. He just continues to talk to me.

"Basilton," he says at the end of our call, "You know you can ask to come home if you want,"

I smile, "I know but I'm okay. Give everyone my Love,"

"Goodbye, son,"

"Bye,"

SIMON

I can hear him in the bathroom, talking with someone on the phone.

They're banned on campus but I know Penny keeps one. It's not a surprise that Baz has one too.

The talking stops, and Baz steps out of the bathroom, freezing as soon as he sees me.

"Hi," I say, "Can we talk?"

He straightens his back and tries to make his face blank, "What's there to talk about, Snow?"

"Baz, please. Don't do that,"

He sighs, "Fine. Talk away,"

"Come sit,"

He sighs again but comes to sit beside me.

"Alright. Talk,"

I had practiced what to say but looking at the Baz right now, everything seems to have disappeared.

All that comes out is, "Can I kiss you?"

He flinches back, looking hurt, "What? Is this some sort of joke, Snow? I didn't think you were-"

I instantly take his hand, "No Baz. I really just want to kiss you,"

He opens his mouth and shuts it, searching my face.

Finally, he nods.

Bursting with happiness, I lean in and press my lips to his, soft and then insistent. I bring one of my hands to cup his cheek and use the other one to gently rub his stomach.

He seems to like it.

When we pull away he has a cautious look on his face.

"Am I still dreaming?" he asks

I smile and kiss him again. This time for a little longer.

This time when we pull away, he looks giddy with happiness and there is a soft blush on his face.

"Wow,"

"Yeah," I whisper before leaning again.

I know we'll have to talk. About the old families and the Mage. His vampirism and me being the Chosen One.

But kissing is nice for now.

#coc 2019 #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz is gay for simon #snowbaz #snowbaz fanfic #carry on fanfic #carry on countdown

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smokeyloki · 4 years

Note

I have some mermay questions for Iâ, Atrophy, Shama, Oko, Cecile, Salty, and Laeta. What kind of sea creature are they? How do they feel about it? Who finds them? Who takes care of them?

Iâ:

Obviously, some kind of Flying fish, with his feathery wings perhaps changing along with the transformation into more fin-like attachments (also some bioluminesence because that’s cool, too). It’s probably a spell-gone-wrong; someone attempting to keep him from drowning or something like that. A hurried attempt that ends up causing a mer-elf. Drauchanar is the one who finds him, let’s be real here, being Iâ’s best friend, and he’s the one who probably cares for him the most. Not that Iâ doesn’t appreciate help from others, but he’s already self-conscious of his appearance and Drau and Damian are like, the only two he can really be himself around. Laer wouldn’t bother him too much, either, mostly because Laer just /doesn’t care/ and everyone knows. As for the transformation itself...having to only breathe water is annoying, and his wingfings are weird and a bit cramped. Also his hair is not perfect and just...appearances are important for elves and this is not doing it for him. He’s grumpy.

Atrophy:

Ha! A taste of weirdness medicine. She’s some black Betta fish type; all fancy, flowy, feathery fins because...it’s Atrophy. It’s Hekla and Ben who find her as they’re walking home, and they drag her back to Carter’s place so she can chill in his apartment tub. Dev definitely calls and mocks her while also worrying uncontrollably. She hates it. The water, being wet all the time, the roughness of the scales, the gills...she hates all of it. She and Ethan would get along real well.

Shama:

Sailfin Blenny, with a huge, striped dorsal fin and the perfect camo colors for hiding on the bottom of pools in the palace gardens. Probably an attempt to ruin his life (again), and now he’s a flopping half-Blenny. He’s probably found by some nice servants who came into the market to get food, and he’s brought back to the palace. Depending on if his dad is found yet, it’s probably Luca who has to take care of him. Being a merman is okay..free movement and being able to explore the bottoms of pools is cool. Breathing underwater and having the weight of water constantly over him is discomforting and he doesn’t like that.

Oko:

Peppered Moray Eel. Varnin finds him..or..his clones do and then they have to modify one of the rooms of their ship to hold a now water-breathing Jedi Knight. Either that or he and his padawan just so happen to be in the same area as Cadras and Dasire, who have to drag him out of a life-threatening situation and onto their dumpy little ship to drop him off at the nearest Jedi Base with lots of water. Again, they’d have to modify a spot to hold him and water. Despite how apathetic they are about everything...this definitely weirds the twins out enough to show some emotion about the whole ordeal. Oko doesn’t like how long his tail is, he doesn’t like his sudden desire for raw fish and other little critters, or his ability to now electrocute people who touch him. But the whole breathing-underwater part is pretty cool and his hair is majestic and flips about when he comes out of the water.

Cecilia:

Veil Angelfish, bluish with white constellation speckles down her tail and long, feathery, whispy fins. It probably happens while Kaz is at work and..let’s be real..some neighbor finds her so Kaz gets home and now she’s at the aquarium or something like that. Leading to a scenario where he has to rescue his now very Siren wife and majestically fly her back to their apartment where he can make her all cozy in their bathtub. He is such a doting husband and worries over her a bunch. She doesn’t like how she’s pretty much a literal Siren now, and she doesn’t like how worried this all makes her husband. Also, she can’t hug him because his wings would get all soggy and uncomfortable. She doesn’t really enjoy any of it.

Salty:

Blue-Ringed Octopus. It’s amazing, how calm he acts in most situations, but this completely throws him for a loop. Not only is he now part sea critter, but a highly toxic one, to boot. His friends, Sam and Luna, have to be cautious in handling him, and he is highly agitated the entire time. Having eight extra limbs is useful in some ways, and he makes himself as useful as possible in the meantime. Like everything else in life, he tries to take this in stride, trying to keep a lid on his emotions. Luna and Sam both help him equally, helping him to realize that it’s okay for him to let a bit of his scared, anxious energy out while they work on a way to fix this.

Laeta:

Probably due to weird radiation or being saved from drowning by some well-meaning species, Laeta is part stingray, with gorgeous, wing-like extensions to her arms and a curled, thick, whip-like tail that lashes about when she’s agitated. She is cared for by her fiance Aldaar, as this would happen while she’s on the USS Trailblazer. She has a lot of fun getting to hear stories from engineers (she’s kept in an empty storage crate filled with water, and there are a lot of engineers in the area). She gets to learn more about Ivek and likes hearing about his plans for marrying Leanna and the wedding and all the kids they want to have. She actually doesn’t really mind any of the situation. The only part that she doesn’t like is that she could hurt anyone who doesn’t handle her gently.

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

Link

Here is Chapter 14 of Can’t Find My Way Home!

 I’ve officially determined this fic will have two more chapters–one a real chapter and the other a bit of an epilogue. Those are currently in editing mode!

Chapter 14

 Baz

 I picked Simon up directly from the care home.

 We’ve had the kind of afternoon I’d envisioned and now we’re sharing a curry in the kitchen at my flat.

 My place is in better shape than I expected, what with me being gone for over six months. Fiona’s had someone come around to check on it once a month. It’s a bit dusty and stale, but not so bad.

 It’s sleek and sterile, all modern lines and stark contrasts, but it’s home, of a sort. More than that soulless pre-furnished studio I have in Manhattan.

 I spent my first year of uni living with Fiona. One year was more than enough. I found this place that first summer. Spent some of my inheritance furnishing it, making it my own. Even if that means somewhat uncomfortable ultra-modern furniture and a monochromatic color scheme. It doesn’t have the heavy, overly rich opulence of Pitch Manor or the eccentric chaos that characterized Fiona’s place. I love my aunt but she is a terrible flatmate. Between the clouds of cigarette smoke, her irrational hours, the on-again/off-again boyfriend situation, and the feral cat she’d adopted, I nearly went mad.

 My flat is exceedingly neat, orderly, methodically arranged. A bit of a blank canvas still, almost like it’s waiting for me to figure out exactly what I want.

 It suited me fine when I was at uni. I needed a quiet place to study. A peaceful place to sleep. It adequately accommodated movie nights with Dev and Niall. The kitchen’s first rate, but it’s not as if I entertain anyone other than the two of them or Fiona. This place is what I needed at the time.

 It looks stark to me tonight.

 Not as bleak as the place in New York but still there’s something off about it now. I know I haven’t lived here for months but there’s a sense of isolation when I take it in. No, maybe that’s not right. I can’t seem to find the right words to describe it.

 Pitch Manor could be a featured house in Architectural Digest but it still looks lived in. Despite its historic nature and registry status, it manages to give off the sense that real people actually live there.

 This place doesn’t. I don’t think it’s really hit me before. It could be an advert for a modern design catalog but the kind of place that never has any people in it—just a showplace, no depth behind it.

 That troubles me.

 Nothing to do about it now. I’m obliged to stay in New York until May, at least, if not longer.

 We move to the main room after our meal and I flip the television on. Simon finds a cooking show he likes and I watch with him, his head resting on my shoulder. There’s none of the frenetic making out we’d indulged in last time we were together, at his flat earlier in the week.

 You’d think there would be, seeing as I leave the day after tomorrow. It feels as if I’m trying to cram months’ worth of dating into just a few short days. We’ve indulged in snogging. He’s met the family. Now it’s time for companionship and just being together, soaking up his company to tide me over for the fucking brutal months of separation ahead.

 I’m exhilarated at the proximity of him and terrified of his impending absence. I finally get him back, for what? A week? Only to then have to bugger off across the fucking Atlantic before I’ve had a chance to even get used to the idea of this.

 “You’re thinking again.”

 “I told you, I can’t help it.” I pull our laced hands to rest on my thigh. “I’m not like you. I can’t just push the thoughts away.”

 “Don’t push them away then. But tell me what you’re thinking, so I can figure out when I need to tell you that you’re being a twat.”

 “Well, that’d be all the time, now wouldn’t it? Isn’t that what you used to say?” I can’t help but smirk at him.

 Simon rolls his eyes. “Don’t be using that against me.” He bumps my shoulder. “You’re far more pleasant now. Don’t fuck it up or I’ll have to tell Mordelia it’s all your fault.”

 “Tell Mordelia what’s my fault?”

 “If you get all caught up in your head like you do and start some existential drama about all this. She’ll blame me, she will, and she scares me.”

 “You’re seriously frightened of a twelve-year-old girl? Don’t be ridiculous, Simon.”

 “She’s may be twelve but she’s already got ice in her veins.” Simon tucks his head into the crook of my neck. “So don’t make me look bad or she’ll level me.”

 I pull him closer to me, brush a kiss on his tumbled curls. How am I to be expected to just go back to Hampshire tonight? When I have Simon in my arms?

 It’s intolerable.

 “We could stay here tonight.” The thought’s been on my mind for hours.

 Simon shifts so that he’s facing me, legs drawn up onto the sofa. “You’re supposed to head home tonight.”

 “I don’t need to.”

 He pushes at my knee. “You do. You’ve only got this week here. Tomorrow’s the last day you get to be with your family.” He kicks at my leg. “I’m not intending on starting this all off with your family hating me.”

 I snort. “They couldn’t hate you, you numpty. They love you already.”

 “They barely know me.”

 “Exactly. And Mordelia’s already threatened you and Father’s invited you to Scotland. It’s a ringing endorsement.”

 He laughs but quickly turns serious again. “I want to keep it that way, yeah? I’ll not be monopolizing you, when they’ve been pining to see you.”

 “What if I want to be monopolized?”

 “You’re impossible, you twat.”

 “Come with me, then, Simon. Come to Hampshire with me. You can take the Tube from Heathrow when I fly out.”

 “I shouldn’t.” Simon’s forehead creases. “I’m not sure I’ll say this right.” He tugs at his sleeve, pulling on the cuff of his jumper, then looks up to glare at me. “Don’t you take this the wrong way, you berk.”

 I roll my eyes. “What is it you’re trying to say, Simon?”

 “I don’t think I should go with you this time.”

 “Why the hell not?”

 Simon shifts on the sofa, one hand reaching up to rub at his neck. “This should be your time.”

 “I’m not following you. It’s my time to spend as I choose. And I choose you.”

 His expression turns achingly fond. “That means the world to me, Baz, really it does.” His hand finds mine, grip tightening on it for a moment. “It’s just that it’s important to me.”

 “What is?”

 “This. Us.” He waves his free hand in the air between us. “I’m lucky to have gotten these few days with you. Don’t want the little ‘uns resenting me being there and your family having this awkward extra person around, when they should be enjoying their time with you.” He shakes his head and juts his chin out.

 Fuck. There’s no arguing with him when he gets this look. Don’t I know it. I argue anyway. Because it’s what I do.

 “That’s bollocks. They can jolly well enjoy their time with us. They did at Christmas. I don’t see it as a problem, Simon.” I touch his knee. “Come with me.”

 His eyebrows come together. “Baz. I’d love to spend more time with you but I’m not doing it at the expense of time with your family.” His gaze softens. “I heard you. I heard you talking with your father, when we were at Ebb’s. I know how badly you wanted to get home, how much you’ve missed them.”

 Simon’s not looking stubborn anymore. His expression has shifted to something far more melancholy. “I know I’m probably not saying this right.” He tugs at his hair. “Listen. I know I’m not one to talk about what it means to be with family, not having one and all. But I do know how important your family is to you, Baz, has always been to you.” He shifts closer to me. “It’ll be five months before you see them again. You should savor that time with them, without any distractions.” His grip on my hand is almost painful now. “Please?”

 It’s the ‘please’ that gets me. That and the way his eyes meet mine, the intense blue of them piercing the depths of me.

 “You’re sure? I know they wouldn’t mind.”

 Simon shifts and then he’s pressed up against me again. “I’m sure. Not a good idea overstaying my welcome the first week we’re together.” He’s nuzzling at my neck, lips trailing up to my jaw. “But we don’t need to end the night just yet.” The words are whispered into my skin and I shiver.

 I turn my head to touch my lips to his and a moment later I’m on my back, Simon above me, eyes wide, pupils blown. “I’ve got some memories I need to store up, yeah?”

 And then his lips are on mine, his mouth taking my breath away, his tongue finding my own. My hands roam over his chest, his back, fingers tracing the muscles I feel there. He’s holding himself above me, his mouth and legs the only point of contact.

 I want more.

 I pull at him, bring him closer, yearning to feel the heady weight of him on me. Simon pulls back to look at me, balancing on one arm as his hand reaches out to stroke my face. I shift my legs and the movement throws him off balance a bit. Our legs tangle as he settles between mine, his chest pressed against my own.

 “This alright then?” It’s a whisper, the exhalation of his breath warming my lips. 

“More than alright.” My hands move up to tangle in his jumbled curls. I inhale the scent of him—medicinal soap, the green aroma of fresh mown grass, the crisp tang of his sweat. He always runs hot, Simon does. Now is no exception. He’s draped over me like my own personal heater and it warms more than just my body.

 There’s been a frozen shell around me for so long. Thick and impenetrable, its icy surface offering no purchase for anyone intrepid or stupid enough to try to breach it.

 Simon doesn’t back down from a challenge. He never has. He cuts right through to the heart of things, slashing past the obstacles in his way.

 He’s not lacerating me with his words like he used to at school. It’s as if he’s wielding a blowtorch and has it pointed at my heart. You’d think it would burn but all I feel is warmth and softness, like I’m melting from the inside.

 Maybe I am.

 “You’re thinking again, you knob. Here I am trying to entice you and your brain is a million miles away.” He huffs at me. “So much for my attempt at seduction.”

 “Trust me, Simon, I’m plenty enticed.” It’s true. My jeans are agonizingly tight at the moment. I close my eyes and breathe in and out. “And the only thing I’m thinking about is you.”

 He’s so near that his eyes are filling my vision, the flecks of darker blue and silver in them catching the light. “That’s alright then. I like the sound of that.” He shifts his weight and the friction nearly makes me gasp.

 I want to kiss him until the sun comes up. I want to rip this bulky jumper off him and feel his skin against mine. I want to roll my hips against his and feel the heat of him against me.

 I want to stay with him and never leave.

 Fuck New York.

 I reach up to meet his mouth, my lips avidly finding his own, the intensity of the moment overwhelming me. I’m gripping his shoulders, his weight presses down on me, his hand slides under my shirt to caress my skin.

 I want. I want so much.

 But I don’t want it like this.

 I don’t want to have this and then leave.

 I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s completely mental. But just as he didn’t want to jeopardize this fledgling relationship by alienating my family, I don’t want to risk too much tonight by moving too fast, when this is all so new for us both.

 It’s not like I’ve never done something like this before. I’m not that naïve. But I’ve never been with someone I’ve loved before. And I don’t want to rush through that. It means something to me. I want it to mean something, not be the frantic fumblings of my uni years.

 It’s all so much more meaningful because it’s Simon.

 I regretfully drag my lips away from his. “I’m going too fast, aren’t I?”

 Simon’s flushed, dazed as he blinks down at me. He swallows, throat rippling with the motion. “No. It’s on me. I let my enthusiasm get the best of me, yeah?” He shakes his head. “That usually doesn’t happen that easily for me.” His eyes find mine again. “I always feel so awkward. But not with you, Baz. Somehow not with you.” He looks bashful.

 He goes to shift away but my arms keep him close. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Simon, I do.”

 Christ, do I ever.

 I keep my arms around his waist, my fingers gently running up and down his back. “If you think I’m having regrets about leaving you now … I’d find it near impossible to go if we went any further tonight.” I swallow and raise one eyebrow in an attempt to lessen the vulnerability my next words expose. “I … ah … I might perhaps have a tendency to be a bit clingy.”

 I’ve only had one consistent boyfriend in my life and I wasn’t even that fond of Sebastian, but I am quite regrettably a bit of a cuddler after intimate encounters. My face is on fire. I may burst into flames on the spot. I’ve never admitted such a weakness to anyone before.

 Simon doesn’t look appalled or confounded by this humiliating admission of mine. He looks entirely delighted. “Clingy, you say?”

 “Shut up. I never should have said anything.” I would sink into the oblivion of the sofa cushions if I could.

 He strokes the side of my jaw and turns my face to his again. “I like that, Baz. I like that a lot.” Simon leans down to brush his lips against my ear. “I can be clingy too.”

 And just like that, he’s done it again. He’s taken me at my most exposed and emotionally compromised state and not only accepted what I’ve said but made me feel safe and secure in his regard.

 I don’t know how he does it.

 Fuck. I think I said that out loud.

 Simon shrugs, lips curving up as his eyes meet mine. “Dunno. I just say what comes in my head.” He goes up on his elbows. “It’s true though. The clingy part.”

 His face is the one deepening in color now, as he keeps talking. “There wasn’t much contact at the homes, yeah? The matrons didn’t really let themselves get attached. Nobody did. I think the only human contact I really had, once I was out of the nursery, was when I’d get into fights.” His brow furrows. “I got in a fair number of them.”

 “I’m faintly aware.” We’d had our share the first few years at Watford.

 He shrugs. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It was one of the only ways I had to get my feelings out and feel connected to anything.” His jaw clenches momentarily. “I got moved around a fair bit. Never at a place for more than a year or two.” His brow creases. “None of them were ever home. The only place that ever felt like that was Watford.”

 I sit up a bit. This is a far more serious conversation now, and I feel like I need to have all my focus on what Simon is saying. He rarely ever talks about the care homes. I shift until my back is against the armrest and I sit up even further. Simon give me a quizzical look. I don’t say anything, but I open my arms to him. He moves to follow me, sliding in at my side, back against the sofa cushions and his head on my chest. I can’t see his face but I think he prefers it that way for the moment.

 “Go on,” I say.

 He shifts a bit and then slides an arm around my waist. I bring my hand up, fingers coming to gently stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.

 Simon sighs. “One of the very first things I loved about Penny was how she wasn’t afraid to be near me, not even first year. She’d hug me and sit next to me, lean into me when she was cold. I’d never had that with anyone. No one had ever willingly come into contact with me, other than to bash my face in or shove me.” He burrows further into my chest, the warmth of his breath seeping through my jumper. “I liked it. It made me feel cared for, yeah?”

 My family is not the most demonstrative but I know exactly what he means. After my mother died Fiona would always make a point of hugging me. Every time she was with me. When she’d get to the house, when she’d leave. When she’d put me to bed. Sometimes to the point of driving me mad, but I still relished that contact.

 My mother was the best at hugs. I remember that about her. Tight, all-encompassing hugs. Warm and firm and safe.

 Daphne’s not a big hugger but she never shied away, once she married Father, from making sure I knew I was loved. She followed Fiona’s lead and even though I know it’s not second nature to her, I’m grateful for the effort she made.

 “I know what you mean, Simon.”

 “I told you the intimacy part of things felt awkward with Agatha. It did. Just didn’t feel right somehow. But I loved having the physical closeness—holding hands, hugging, having her tucked under my arm when we’d watch movies. That was the best part.” Simon’s silent for a moment. “That was really the part I missed when we broke up. Not our conversations, or our kissing, or making out, truth be told. It was having someone to hold.” He pauses again, voice lowering. “And someone holding me. That’s what I missed.”

 My fingers sink into his hair, nails lightly dragging across his scalp.

 “It’s not that way with you though, Baz. Doesn’t feel awkward. I feel … I’m not even sure I’m going to say this right, I’m never good with words.” His voice is barely audible when he speaks again. “There’s just something so familiar about you. It’s comforting, I guess. Reassuring.” Simon’s fingers grip my jumper. “Watford’s the only home I’ve ever known. The only place I felt I belonged.” I have to tilt my head down to hear his next words. “In a room I shared with you.”

 He sighs and holds me tighter. “So I get it, Baz, I get it.” He turns his head up to look at me, a shy expression on his face and his cheeks coloring again. “I might be even clingier than you.”

 I bring my other arm up and around his shoulders. I brush my lips to his forehead. “Watch it now, Simon. You know how competitive I get. I might just take that as a challenge.”

 He laughs and buries his head in my chest again. I could stay here all night, on this sofa, with Simon in my arms.

 In truth I can’t, because my furniture is so fucking uncomfortable. There is literally no padding on this armrest. It’s digging into my back. I’m sure to have a mark. The cushions are far too rigid as well. It’s like my arse is sat on a plank.

 What the fuck was I thinking when I bought this ridiculous angular sofa? It’s fine for watching movies with your mates but absolute rubbish for this kind of thing.

 I’m going to have to rethink the whole décor.

 But I can stand it, for a bit longer, because I’ve got Simon in my arms and I don’t want to let him go.

Simon

 We stay on the sofa for a long time, me cradled in Baz’s arms, my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It’s late. Past time for him to get home.

 I don’t want to move though. It still astounds me, how arousing I find Baz and at the same time how achingly comfortable. I’m glad he pulled us back. I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I could think about was how much I wanted him, how much I needed to feel closer to him, how the thought of him being so far away was so much more painful with each passing moment.

 He says he wouldn’t have been able to leave. I don’t know if I would have been able to let him go.

 It’s not like that for me, usually. The physical intimacy, I mean. Not the hand holding or kissing. I can manage that just fine. I like that.

 It’s the other stuff that usually freezes me up. Makes me jittery, nervous, awkward.

 But not tonight. Not with Baz. With Baz it felt … it felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt safe.

 It felt like belonging. Like coming home.

 I finally sit up and run a hand through my hair. Baz is heavy-lidded, ready to fall asleep by the looks of him. “You need some tea, Baz? Before you head back?”

 “Are you really making me go home?” There’s a hint of a smirk so I know he’s teasing.

 “You know I am. You promised.”

 “I did no such thing.”

 “You implied.”

 “Wrong again.”

 “Come on, you prick, you said you agreed with me.”

 “I did not. You just assumed. I never actually agreed to anything before you ravished me with your charms.”

 “I never managed to ravish you, you tosser.” I’m grinning at him now. There’s no one like Baz for banter like this. I never used to call it banter. I used to call it him being an arse.

 “More’s the pity.” He’s smiling now too.

 We move to the kitchen and Baz puts the electric kettle on. He drinks his tea while he leans against the counter, his arm around my shoulders.

 I feel like we’re moving in slow motion now, every moment an attempt to drag out our time together. Tying my shoes seems to take ages. Baz keeps adjusting his coat.

 We’re silent as the moments tick by, making our progress out of his flat, down to his garage, finding his car. It’s like a series of snapshots, the images imprinting on my brain—the way the light hits his face, the line of his coat draped over his shoulders, the feel of his fingers intertwined with mine.

Baz 

The drive to Hampshire gives me too much time to think. Each mile that takes me away from Simon drags at me, like there’s a magnet in my chest pulling me back towards him.

Simon

 I’m just drifting off to sleep when my mobile pings.

 Baz: I’m back in Hampshire.

 Baz: I miss you already.

 I miss him too. I text him just that.

Baz

 The aeroplane door shuts with a dismal thud. This is it. I’m headed back to New York. Any romantic ideas I’d entertained about turning back are put to rest now that the doors are closed and the plane is pulling away from the gate.

 Five fucking months.

 It feels like a fucking lifetime.

 My phone is in aeroplane mode, the last text I sent to Simon unanswered on my screen.

 Five months.

 It’s taken me almost five years, a job thousands of miles away, a miserable drive across the entire east coast of America, and traversing the Atlantic by plane—not once, but now almost twice in the span of a week—to realize that the place I feel the most content, the most myself, the most at peace is wherever Simon is.

 Five bloody months doesn’t seem so insurmountable when I think of it like that. 

I’ll be coming home to him.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #travel au #my fics #my writing

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jessethejoyful · 6 years

Text

holy cow it’s part five

what’s a schedule

read it here on ao3

SIMON

Things are different, again.

Baz is still around. He still spends time with Penny and Agatha and I, even came over for another pizza night, but left before ten, saying he was supposed to call his father. He didn’t look at me once when he left.

He still comes into the art store and talks to me, but only when he’s buying something. And our chats don’t last as long, before he gets distracted by his phone and steps out with a small wave.

I don’t know where the extra distance suddenly came from. He’s become such an integral part of my day, I don’t know what to do now that he seems to be pulling himself out of it, piece by piece. There’s a constant ache in my chest, because I just know it’s because I kissed him, and told him I liked him, and I don’t want to press him into something he’s not comfortable with.

He’s not comfortable with me, and I want him to be, more than anything.

So when the end of October is coming up quickly, and I invite him to Penny and I’s fancy dress Halloween party, he’s surprised. And I wish he wasn’t.

“I’m not sure,” he says slowly, when I ask if he can come. “I… don’t usually do anything for Halloween. I might be scheduled to work.”

“Find out,” I say, unable to resist the urge to stretch my hand out and grip his wrist. He looks down at our hands, eyes wide, but doesn’t pull away, and I take this as a good sign. “And let me know. Okay?”

His eyes meet mine, for the first time that day, and I’m so thankful for it.

“Okay,” he agrees. I can breathe.

BAZ

I’m not an easy person to be friends with. Dev tells me so all the time.

“You’re not an easy person to be friends with,” he’ll say to me, and I’ll remind him that we’re cousins and he’s not obligated to be my friend. “Yeah, well, I like you well enough all that you’re a stingy prat, Basil.” And we’ll go back to playing video games or whatever it is we’re doing, and it’s fine.

But with Simon, it’s different. It has been from the beginning.

I’ve never had a boyfriend either. I don’t know shit about it. His had been the first kiss I’ve had in over a year, when I had a brief stint on Tinder and regretted it immediately.

There's never been someone like him in my life, someone I was actually afraid of scaring away.

“So instead of you worrying about scaring him away,” Dev says one evening over dinner, when I make the mistake of letting on what's bothering me, “you're doing it on purpose, preemptively. So you don't have to wonder if you're going to lose him later on.”

“I guess,” I grumble, moving my silverware around on the table before me. “It doesn't make any fucking sense.”

“I don't know about that,” Dev says slowly, and I look up at him. “Baz. It's not unusual, what you're doing. Christ, I forget how little experience you have with all this.”

“Spare me the condescension, if you would,” I snarl, kicking my leg up sharply and crossing it over the other. The aggression in my tone masks how embarrassed I am about this whole thing.

Dev sighs, loud and long. “You're pulling back because you're afraid of getting hurt, it's a classic move. You don't know him well enough yet to know he's not going to hurt you, so you're trying to keep him from doing so.” He leans forward over the table. “Trying to act like you're not already in too deep to get out.”

I'm startled, but I realize Dev might be onto something. And he knows it, sitting back with a smug expression.

But what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

PENNY

Simon Snow is a fucking moron. He's my best friend, so I'm allowed to say that.

He's a lovable moron, but a moron nonetheless. Watching him and Basil dance around each other these last few weeks has been exhausting.

They have no idea, but I got up to go to the bathroom on the night we did masks, and saw them, curled up together on the couch like cats in a patch of sunlight. It was adorable, but I'd honestly seen it coming. Agatha and I had been talking about it behind their backs almost since the beginning. And I like Basil. Now that I've gotten to know him, he's great to talk to - I think most of his shit attitude is just his way of keeping the wrong kind of people out, his walls.

And Simon - well, Simon doesn't do anything halfway, does he? He took a jackhammer to those walls, and now Baz is fortifying them in retaliation.

I wish they'd stop playing chicken, so I can stop caring about it.

SIMON

I'm amazed - and horribly pleased - when Baz actually shows up to the party, and not just because he came dressed as a cheesy movie vampire, in a black and red cape and his hair smoothed back.

“Baz,” I say, because that's all I can manage, and he smiles, actually smiles, and it reveals the fake fangs he’d glued over his eye teeth, and I snort.

“Snow,” he says. I'm a bit let down, because I like it when he calls me Simon. But his tone is all business, even as his eyes glance over my costume. Agatha and I are a set, an angel and a devil, and I've got on flimsy plastic wings, horns, and a cartoon devil’s tail. “Could we… talk?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Of course.” I look around wildly.

It's crowded, because our parties always go over well. Penny likes to complain that I have too many friends, that I should keep it limited to a close circle.

“But if I didn't have so many friends,” I always counter, “then how could we throw such epic parties?” She never has a rebuttal.

“We can talk in my room?” I say it like a question, because I don't want to make him uncomfortable. He just nods and gestures for me to go on. I cut through the crowd, grinning at people who greet me, and he follows behind, head down. I'm not used to him being so withdrawn like this. I'm bracing myself for him to tell me he hates my guts and doesn't ever want to see me again.

My room is quiet, no one's allowed in, and I close the door and flick on the light. Then I wish I hadn't, because it's kind of a mess. The desk where I normally set up my laptop to draw is covered in trash, from takeout or crumpled-up paper. The floor is mostly clear though, some clothes around, and Baz carefully picks his way over and sits on my unmade bed.

I follow and sit next to him, but not too close.

He breathes deeply, and I don't speak, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. And then he looks at me, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

“I'm sorry,” he says, and it's not what I'm expecting at all.

“Eh? For what?”

He looks annoyed for a second. “I've been - pulling away. Closing off. It's what I do, apparently, when people get too close.”

“Oh. Well, it's alright.”

“I just -" He stares at me, his jaw working. “I don't know what I'm doing. I put on a good show, but I'm a fucking wreck.”

“I know,” I say, maybe a little too eagerly, because he looks startled.

“And you like that?” He makes it sound like the most impossible thing in the universe. Someone liking him.

“Yeah,” I whisper, leaning forward a hair. “I kissed you, remember?”

“But why?” he hisses back, his voice dropping with mine. “If you know I'm a mess, why would you like me?”

I shrug, because I know it drives him mental. “Because we match.” I lean in more, watching his lips, and they part for a second before his hand comes up to my chest, stopping me.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he says again, and his voice is so tortured that I sit up and look at him, really look at him. He is a mess - I can see it in the haunted look behind his eyes, the twitch of his hand, the slump of his shoulders. I wonder how much of his past I don't know (all of it, pretty much) and it sobers me up a bit.

“I know,” I murmur, lifting my hand to cover his where it rests on my chest. “And that's okay. You don't have to. We'll figure it out together, alright?” He breathes in a tiny gasp, then nods once, some of the tension dropping from his neck. “C’mere.” He glares at me, all suspicion, and I scoff before wrapping my arms around his back, pulling him to me. He's stiff for a long moment, but then his arms come up around me and his face buries in the crook of my neck, and I grin because I know he can't see.

BAZ

“Because we match.”

My mind keeps playing through the scene, even as I'm forced to mingle and interact with a flat full of mostly drunk students.

It took a lot of energy from me to have such a revealing conversation with Simon, and once he steps into the kitchen for a drink, I slip through the crowd and out the door, closing it quickly behind me.

I'm surprised to find Agatha, cross-legged on the floor in the hall, but she doesn't seem surprised by me.

“It’s a lot in there, isn't it?” she says, her cheeks pushing up in a small smile. She looks just right in her angel costume, small and almost sad, so I find myself sliding down the wall next to her. “I can only deal with so much before I need a breath. And Simon's room was occupied.” I can feel the warmth immediately spread across my face, and I don't trust myself to reply. She looks at me, though I don't look back until she says, “You like him, don't you? Simon.”

When I meet her eyes, there's nothing there but friendly concern. For her best friend who was brought up like her brother.

“Yeah. I do.” She smiles then, brilliantly, and it's like I'm tricked into smiling back. It's contagious.

“Good. Because I can tell he likes you, and I don't want to see him hurt.” Suddenly she looks serious, her lips quirking for a moment to the side. “He seems like the happiest person. Like sunlight. But he's had a hard time. As a kid, especially, and it shaped him into who he is today. Kind and sweet and loyal, but also… fragile. I just want you to keep that in mind, going forward.”

I know it to be the whole truth as I say, “I would never do anything to hurt him, Agatha. You have my word.” Then I look away, tilting my head back against the wall and breathing out a small laugh. “He’s lucky. To have two friends like you and Penny watching out for him.” I don't move when Agatha’s head drops to my shoulder. My heart clenches.

“We’ll watch out for both of you, until we can trust the two of you not to fuck yourselves up,” she says softly, startling a laugh out of me.

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #rainbow rowell #carry on simon #carry on baz #agatha wellbelove #penelope bunce #here we are fellas #idk how to write #my writing #writing #carry on fanfiction #fanfiction #art school au

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