#also I call Simon Si all the time so it's fair

[alvinmichaelmurphyseville]

🎶"You can be my bodyguard. I can be your long lost pal. I can call you Brittany. Brittany, when you call me, you can call me Al. You can call me Al."🎶

"I figured out the emoji thing. They're still limited though. Oh well, at least I got my music notes. I've been on a Paul Simon kick lately. Haha yes, I know, Paul Simon. I see the irony. Wait, is that irony?"

"Anyway, I've been warming up to the nickname Al recently. I used to hate it because it sounded way too elderly for me, but that was just me being a judgmental dude. It's a cool way of shortening my name when nobody knows which version of me they're talking to. Classic Alvin/Alvin 2.0/Albert."

"Moving on, let's talk CHRISTMAS VACATION!!! Hey, if I'm 3 people rolled into one, should I have made Santa 3 Christmas lists? Oops, that's Classic Alvin talking. I think. Maybe I should just have broke my list up into 3 separate sections or somthin'."

"I"M SO HAPPY TO NOT BE IN SCHOOL RIGHT NOW!!!! Time for nothing but 2 FULL WEEKS OF FUN!!!!"

[kamakazih8syou]

"let's go home" Ghost x GN!reader

PREMISE: Ghost gets a little tipsy and forgets that he's talking to his lovely partner

PAIRINGS: Ghost x GN!reader

WARNINGS: talks of being drunk, alcohol consumption

AN: THANK YALL SM FOR THE LOVE!! PLS GIVE ME STUFF TO WRITE ABT, MY ASK BOX IS WIDEE OPEN this is also a little short but ive been in a little writers block :(

You rarely ever get a day off. Like, ever.

You are always busy, always working, always on your feet. Your free time is spent with your husband, Simon and even days where the both of you are free, your days usually get cut short by missions, getting called in for last minute work, etc etc... Today was different.

You and 141 were going out for drinks as you usually do when a mission is over, you went back home, freshened up, and put on a nicer outfit then your gear. As you walk to the car you get bombarded with texts from Soap and Gaz saying how you needed to "Get your slow ass over to the pub" You chuckle at the text, and you back out of your parking space.

You walk into the pub and you immediately notice something is off, the boys are much louder then they would usually have been when, from their corner of the bar you hear them cheering in celebration and laughing. That's when you hear it Ghosts laugh.

Ghost tries to be stoic, rarely letting himself slip up and letting himself show any emotion that isn't neutrality or anger. At most, he lets out a soft chuckle to one of his own unfunny dark jokes, or to you trying to make him laugh in public. This was different. He was having a hearty laugh at something you couldn't even fathom, it was probably an unfunny joke being completely fair. You smile when you walk up behind him and brush his arm in the way you always do to let him know its you.

"Hey, ease up. I got someone back home" Simon says roughly, he pulls his arm away from your hand. You attempt to say ,"Ghost its me-" but you are cut off with a harsh "Yeah pal whatever you say, just keep your hands off. I don't want you, i'm waiting for my partner." You chuckle, realizing that Simon may have had a little too much to drink, and you decide to play along as you slide into the seat next to him. "Oh my, I didn't realize you were taken! Tell me more about this partner" You say with a smile. Simon responds by clearing his throat, "Well, they're amazing for one. They reign hell on anything they attempt to do and I honestly don't think I could even try to do half the shit they do. They're always working so hard for everyone and I can't- I don't even think I could imagine a life without them. I didn't think I could love someone before them but... here they are, proving me wrong every single day." Simon takes a sip of his whiskey, and looks at you long and hard.

"You kinda... look like them" Ghost says while squinting his eyes, almost as if he's trying to play a game of, "Guess the Difference" in his head.

"What's yer... what's yer name love?", Simon says, slurring his drunken words.

You sigh and kiss his masked cheek, " Let's get you home Si.", You say with a little laugh; You grab his hand and lead him to your car.

"I didn't think you had that many nice things to say about me Si, you really know how to flatter someone", You say as you're driving. You think Simon is sleeping, his body rested softly on your passenger door as you make your way home.

"Mmmm, I meant every word dear..... you're amazin and I wouldn't change you for a thing...", His words are strung together and are filled with sleep. You love it when he's like this, when he's relaxed and calm. When it seems like all his worries and his past has drifted away for the time being. When he opens up and lets down his walls he's built around his heart. Simon has never been an open man, but when he is? He never fails to charm you. You love Simon.

You love days like these.

[allthingschrisevans]

our feelings are mutual

pairing: andy barber x reader

warnings:  love/hate relationship?, two curse words were mentioned, bad writing (biggest warning of all lol)

word count: 1,5k 

summary: you’re andy barber’s assistant but you seem to get the feeling your boss doesn’t really like you that much, or maybe he does?

a/n: let’s just pretend andy is single in this one, so laurie and jacob don’t exist 

italics = thoughts, flashbacks

read part two here :)

Andy Barber. The majority saw him as this incredibly handsome, smart and strong man. You thought the same thing, before you met the real Andy Barber. A heartless and unappreciative workaholic who had zero understanding for anyone or anything.

Ever since becoming his employee you felt like he couldn't stand you. Fair enough you couldn't stand him either. The difference is that you had every right to, he didn't. He was the one who ruined your chance of being promoted, thinking you weren't ready. You always gave 100% of yourself. You completed any task in record time and were always available, even after your working time ended, so why wouldn't you be ready?

You had to cancel plenty of dinners with friends, even dates with guys because Andy thought him never stopping work meant nobody could. As a matter of fact, you were convinced “freetime” wasn't part of his vocabulary. He worked 24/7, work was all his life consisted of.

Not that you didn't love your job but unlike Andy you had a work life balance. You were a hard worker but also enjoyed relaxing, having fun and letting yourself focus on something other than your job.

Lost in your thoughts you didn't even hear your name being called.

"Y/N?" Andy repeated while standing in the door frame of your small office.

"I'm sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. How can I help you?" you asked before looking up at him.

"Yeah. I noticed that. This is not the best place to be daydreaming though." he said before shaking his head and continuing "I need the files of Mrs. Morgan's case as soon as possible.“

"Got it. I'll get them to you in no time" you said before smiling a bit trying to be polite, when in reality you just thought what an asshole.

He just nodded and returned back to his office which was opposite of yours.

Seconds later your phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Oh, and call Mrs. Morgan and remind her of today's meeting?" Andy said through the phone.

"Consider it done." you replied "Anything else?"

"No……Thank you" Andy quickly said before hanging up the phone.

You were taken back by the sudden 'thank you' since you rarely heard him say that.

After two and a half hours you finally collected all documents Andy needed. Just as you were about to give him the file you heard a knock on your door which made you look up.

"Simon, hey what's up?" you asked seeing your friend in the doorway.

"Lunch time girl. I'm starving come on." he replied pointing to his stomach signalizing his hunger.

You chuckled at his comment "Alright. Let me just drop these off and we can go".

Making your way towards Andy's office you knocked on the glass door before stepping into his office going towards where his desk was.

"Here's the file you requested. Mrs Morgan has been reminded she'll be here at 3 pm." you said while handing him the file.

"Perfect." he said while taking the grey folder from you.

"I'll go get some lunch. I'll be back in about an hour. If that's okay. Should I get you anything?" you asked.

"A coffee would be nice. Other than that, I'm good. " Andy replied after looking up at you nodding slightly.

Taking that as a que to leave you nodded back and made your way towards Simon who was waiting for you.

"Having a hot boss must make work so much easier. I wouldn't get shit done though. I'd be too distracted staring at him. I mean just look at him...ugh he's so hot. You're officially winning at life, sis. I'm stuck with fucking Peter who spits like a fountain when he speaks." Simon said not taking a breath.

"Yeah, no he is a complete nightmare, Simon. Guess what. Today was the first time he thanked me for something. He shows zero emotion, like a robot. " was the only thing you could reply before Simon cut you off.

"But a hot robot though. I'd do anything to be in your shoes. Those eyes, the suit and the beard. Hot damn. I'd just drool all day long" Simon said while being all heart eyes.

"You are crazy." you were in disbelief at Simon's comments.

Everyone was head over heels with Andy Barber which didn’t really make any sense to you. You had to admit he was a handsome man but that‘s about it. He was arrogant and had no empathy. Giving orders that you just had to follow otherwise you would lose your job. Even if you‘re in the middle of something Andy expects you to drop it all and focus on whatever task he has for you. Whatever it is, calling a client, getting files ready, bringing him coffee, scheduling appointments, you had to do it all. Maybe you overreact sometimes, after all you are his assistant and that‘s what assistants are supposed to do, right?

In the meantime, Simon and you reached the cafeteria, where other colleagues were already enjoying their meal. Almost everyone, except for Andy of course.

——————

After chatting with your co-workers a bit, it was time to get back to work. On your way out you quickly grabbed a cup of coffee for Andy. Simon and you both walked back parting your ways as you reached the floor your office was in.

"Go get Daddy Barber his coffee before he gets mad." Simon said winking at you.

You just rolled your eyes letting out a little chuckle.

Shortly after, you reached Andy's door knocking before entering "Here's your coffee, Mr. Barber."

"Thank you. Y/N." you were ready to head back to your office when Andy spoke again.

"Y/N, wait."

Great. I bet he's not happy with the coffee. What is it this time, too much sugar? Wrong mug?

Turning around you looked at him expectedly.

"Mr. Logan won't be able to fly out here, apparently there's been an issue with his flight and the next one won't leave until next month. So-" Andy said straightening his tie.

"So, you need me to book a hotel for you. Got it. How long do you plan on staying?" you asked accidentally interrupting him.

"No. Let me finish. We have to get out there. I need you to come with me." Andy said.

"Me?" you asked slightly shocked.

"Yes. You are my assistant and working on this and other cases with me, if I recall correctly?" he said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, I was just not expecting that, to be honest. When should I be there?" you asked while looking at him.

"I know it's quite short term, but we'll have to leave tonight so we can get to the appointment at 11 am tomorrow." Andy said scratching his beard.

"Tonight? I’ll try to get a flight for tonight but I-“

"You are coming with me. Didn't I just say that?” Andy looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry. That sounds good. I mean is fine with me." you replied. "So how long are we staying, so I can book the hotel?"

"Simon's got it covered. No need to worry about that." Andy said while opening his laptop.

"Simon?" you asked confused.

"Yes. Simon. Peter's assistant. Are you okay, Y/N?" he paused for a second. “I thought you might need some time to pack. I've got your schedule for today cleared so you can leave after getting all the files for Mr. Logan together" Andy said.

"But Mrs. Morgan she-"

"I've got it, Y/N just please don't forget Mr. Logans folder" Andy said a slight smile plastered on his face.

"Okay." was the only thing you could get out.

What the hell was happening? In all these months you were working for Andy you've never had your schedule cleared off by him. He insisted on having you at every meeting, now you were off 4 hours before you were supposed to be? And he suddenly seemed to be so nice?

______

You quickly collected all the needed documents for Mr. Logan's case. You grabbed your coat and bag before heading to Andy's office where you dropped off the folder.

"This is everything related to the case. I'll be heading out now. Unless you need something else?" you asked holding your bag in your hands looking down at Andy who sat at his desk, raising his head.

"No, that's all. Our flight will be taking off at 9 p.m. I'll pick you up at around 7:30 so we get there on time." Andy said taking you by surprise.

"Oh, that's fine. I can get there myself. You don't have to pick me up. Just send me the address and I'll be-" you tried saying before being cut off.

"Why make yourself any trouble when you're on my way anyway? I'll give you a call to let you know I'm there, just be ready by 7:30."

"Okay, thank you. See you at 7:30." you said hesitating for a short moment before turning on your heels leaving his office. You suddenly noticed Andy’s eyes following you, when he noticed you looking at him he quickly turned his gaze back to the screen in front of him.

"What just happened?" you thought to yourself...

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new series. ❤️

Please tell me what you think and whether I should continue writing this. Thank you for reading this I love you all so much it means the world!! ❤️❤️

tags ♡ :

@patzammit

[booklindworm]

A rant against Karen Traviss' understanding of history and her FAQ answers

Did you base the Mandalorians on the Spartans?

<cite> No. I didn't. </cite> Fair enough.

<cite> I really wish history was taught properly - okay, taught at all - in schools these days, because history is the big storehouse that I plunder for fiction. It breaks my heart to hear from young readers who have no concept even of recent history - the last fifty years - and so can't see the parallels in my books. You don't have to be a historian to read my novels, but you'll get a lot more out of them if you explore history just a little more. Watch a history channel. Read a few books. Visit some museums. Because history is not "then" - it's "now." Everything we experience today is the product of what's happened before. </cite> Yeah, I do to. Please, Ms Traviss, go on, read some books. Might do you some good. And don't just trust the history channels. Their ideas about fact-checking differ wildly.

<cite> But back to Mandos. Not every military society is based on Sparta, strange as that may seem. In fact, the Mandos don't have much in common with the real Spartans at all. </cite> You mean apart from the absolute obsession with the military ["Agoge" by Stephen Hodkinson], fearsome reputation ["A Historical Commentary on Thucydides" by David Cartwright], their general-king ["Sparta" by Marcus Niebuhr Tod], the fact that they practically acted as mercenaries (like Clearch/Κλέαρχος), or the hyper-confidence ("the city is well-fortified that has a wall of men instead of brick" [Plutarch, Life of Lycurgus])...

<cite> A slightly anarchic, non-centralized, fightin' people? Sounded pretty Celtic to me. Since I went down that path, I've learned more about the Celts (especially the Picts), and the more I learn, the more I realise what a dead ringer for Mandos they are. But more of how that happened later... </cite>

The Celtic people are more than one people, more than one culture. Celtic is a language-family! In the last millennium BC nearly every European ethnic group was in some ways Celtic, and they were not one. Later, after the Germanic tribes (also not one people, or a singular group) moved westwards, the Celtic cultures were still counted in the hundreds. Not only Scotland was Celtic! Nearly all of Western Europe was (apart from the Greek and Phoenician settlers on the Mediterranean coasts). The word “Celts” was written down for the first time by Greek authors who later also used the word “Galatians”. The Romans called these people “Gauls”, and this word was used to describe a specific area, bordered by the Atlantic Ocean, the Cévennes and the Rhine: “Gaul”. So the Celts, the Galatians and the Gauls were all part of the same Celtic civilisation. "Celts, a name applied by ancient writers to a population group occupying lands mainly north of the Mediterranean region from Galicia in the west to Galatia in the east [] Their unity is recognizable by common speech and common artistic traditions" [Waldman & Mason 2006] Mirobrigenses qui Celtici cognominantur. Pliny the Elder, The Natural History; example: C(AIUS) PORCIUS SEVERUS MIROBRIGEN(SIS) CELT(ICUS) -> not just one culture "Their tribes and groups eventually ranged from the British Isles and northern Spain to as far east as Transylvania, the Black Sea coasts, and Galatia in Anatolia and were in part absorbed into the Roman Empire as Britons, Gauls, Boii, Galatians, and Celtiberians. Linguistically they survive in the modern Celtic speakers of Ireland, Highland Scotland, the Isle of Man, Wales, and Brittany." [Celtic Culture: a historical encyclopedia. by John Koch] "[] the individual CELTIC COUNTRIES and their languages, []" James, Simon (1999). The Atlantic Celts – Ancient People Or Modern Invention. University of Wisconsin Press. "All Gaul is divided into three parts, one of which the Belgae live, another in which the Aquitani live, and the third are those who in their own tongue are called Celtae, in our language Galli." [Julius Caesar, De Bello Gallico] <= I had to translate that in school. It's tedious political propaganda. Read also the Comentarii and maybe the paper "Caesar's perception of Gallic social structures" that can be found in "Celtic Chiefdom, Celtic State," Cambridge University Press. The Celtic tribes and nations were diverse. They were pretty organized, with an academic system, roads, trade, and laws. They were not anarchic in any way. They were not warriors - they were mostly farmers. The Celts were first and foremost farmers and livestock breeders

The basic economy of the Celts was mixed farming, and, except in times of unrest, single farmsteads were usual. Owing to the wide variations in terrain and climate, cattle raising was more important than cereal cultivation in some regions.

Suetonius addressing his legionaries said "They are not soldiers—they're not even properly equipped. We've beaten them before." [not entirely sure, but I think that was in Tacitus' Annals]

Regarding the Picts, in particular, which part of their history is "anarchic"? Dál Riata? the Kingdom of Alba? Or are you referring to the warriors that inspired the Hadrian's Wall? Because no one really knows in our days who the fuck they were. The Picts’ name first appears in 297 AD. That is later. <cite> Celts are a good fit with the kind of indomitable, you-can't-kill-'em-off vibe of the Mandos. Reviled by Rome as ignorant savages with no culture or science, and only fit for slaughter or conquest, the Celts were in fact much more civilized than Rome even by modern standards. </cite> That's how the Romans looked at pretty much every culture that wasn't Greek, Roman, Phoenician, Egyptian, or from Mesopotamia (read, if you want, anything Roman or Greek about the Skyths, the Huns, Vandals, Garamantes...).

<cite> They also kicked Roman arse on the battlefield, and were very hard to keep in line, so Rome did what all lying, greedy superpowers do when challenged: they demonized and dehumanized the enemy. (They still used them in their army, of course, but that's only to be expected.) </cite> They were hard to keep in line, but they most definitely did not kick Roman arse on the battlefield. Roman arse was kicked along the borders of the Roman Empire, such as the Rhine, the Danube, the Atlas mountains, etc. And mostly by actually badly organized, slightly anarchic groups, such as the Goths or the Huns (BTW the Huns were not a Germanic people, even though early 20th century British propaganda likes to say so). Though they were also decisively stopped by the Parthians. Who were very organized. Ah well. <cite> While Rome was still leaving its unwanted babies to die on rubbish dumps - a perfectly acceptable form of family planning to this "civilisation" - and keeping women as chattels devoid of rights, the barbarian Celts had a long-standing legal system that not only gave women what we would think of as equal rights, but also protected the rights of the elderly, children, and the disabled. They had a road network across Europe and worldwide trade long before the Romans ever got their act together. And their science - well, their astronomical calculations were so sophisticated that it takes computers to do the same stuff today. </cite> See? You even say yourself that they weren't actually anarchic. Also you're not completely right: 1. women (of most Celtic cultures, with one notable exception being the Irish) were not allowed to become druids, e.g. scientists, physicians, priests, or any other kind of academics, so they did not have equal rights. Also, as in other Indo-European systems, the family was patriarchal. 2. the roads they had were more like paths, and did not span the entirety of Europe; the old roads that are still in use are nearly all of them Roman. Had the Celtic inhabitants of Gallia or Britannia built comparable roads, why would the Romans have invested in building a new system on top? 3. world-wide? Yeah, right. They traded with those who traded with others and so were able to trade with most of southern Eurasia and northern Africa, as well as few northern parts (Balticum, Rus), but that's (surprise) not the whole world. 4. most people use computers for those calculations you mention because its easier. It's not necessary. I can do those calculations - give me some time to study astronomy (I'm a math major, not physics) and some pencils and paper. 5. and - I nearly forgot - the kids didn't die. That was a polite fiction. The harsh truth is that most Roman slaves were Romans... <cite> So - not barbarians. Just a threat to the empire, a culture that wouldn't let the Pax Romana roll over it without a fight. (Except the French tribes, who did roll over, and were regarded by the Germanic Celts [...]) </cite> WTF Germanic Celts? What are you smoking, woman? Isn't it enough that you put every culture speaking a language from the Celtic family in one pot and act as if they were one people, now you have to mix in a different language-family as well? Shall we continue that trend? What about the Mongolian Celts, are they, too, proof that the Celts were badass warriors? I think at this point I just lost all leftover trust in your so-called knowledge. <cite> [...] as being as bad as the Romans. Suck on that, Asterix... </cite> Asterix was definitely a Celt, and unlike the British Celts, he was not a citizen of the Roman Empire.

<cite> Broad brush-stroke time; Celts were not a centralized society but more a network of townships and tribes, a loose alliance of clans who had their own internal spats, but when faced with some uppity outsider would come together to drive off the common threat. </cite> They might have tried, but they didn't. The first and only time a Celtic people really managed to drive off some uppity outsider would be 1922 following the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921*. The fact that France, Spain, Portugal speak Romance languages and the British (or Irish) Isles nearly uniformly speak English should be proof enough.

*Unless you count Asterix. <cite> You couldn't defeat them by cutting off the head. There was no head to cut off. </cite> You mean unlike Boudica and Vercingetorix. Oh wait. Tacitus, in his Annals, said that Boudica's last fight cost 80,000 Britons and 400 Romans their lives. He was probably exaggerating. But it definitely stopped much of the British resistance in its tracks. <cite> To the centralized, formal, rather bureaucratic Romans, for whom the city of Rome was the focus of the whole empire, this was a big does-not-compute. The Celts were everything they didn't understand. And we fear what we don't understand, and we kill what we fear. </cite> While that is totally true, it's also completely off the mark. The Romans demonized the druids, not every Celt, and they were afraid of what was basically an academic network. That had nothing to do with war. <cite> Anyway, Mandos....once I took a single concept - in this case, the idea of clans that operated on a loose alliance system, like the Celts - the rest grew organically. I didn't plan it out in detail from the start. </cite> That's really obvious. Maybe looking at some numbers and remembering that you weren't planning a small, local, rural, medieval community would have helped, too. I mean lets have a look at, say, Scotland (since you specifically mentioned the Picts): they still have less than 6 mio. people all together, and that's today. Mandalore is a sector. A sector of Outer Space with at least 2000 inhabited planets. How do you think that translates? It doesn't. <cite> I just asked myself what a culture of nomadic warriors would value, how they would need to operate to survive, and it all grew inexorably by logical steps. The fact that Mandos ended up as very much like the Celts is proof that the technique of evolving a character or species - find the niche, then work out what fits it - works every time. It creates something very realistic, because that's how real people and real societies develop. </cite> Celtic people were usually not nomadic! And, once again, non of them were predominantly warriors! It's really hard to be a nomadic farmer. I believe the biggest mistake you made, Ms Traviss, is mixing up the Iron Age (and earlier) tribes that did indeed sack Rome and parts of Greece, and that one day would become the people the Romans conquered. And apart from the Picts they really were conquered. <cite> So all I can say about Mandos and Spartans is that the average Mando would probably tell a Spartan to go and put some clothes on, and stop looking like such a big jessie. </cite>

I'd really like to see a Mando – or anyone – wearing full plate without modern or Star Wars technology in Greece. Happy heatstroke. There is a reason they didn't wear a lot (look up the Battle of Hattîn, where crusaders who didn't wear full helmets and wore chainmail* still suffered badly from heat exhaustion). [Nicolle, David (1993), Hattin 1187: Saladin's Greatest Victory] *chainmail apparently can work like a heatsink CONCLUSION You're wrong. And I felt offended by your FAQ answers. QUESTION You're English. You're from England. A group - a nation - that was historically so warlike and so successful that by now we all speak English. A nation that definitely kicked arse against any Celtic nation trying to go against them (until 1921, and they really tried anyway). A nation that had arguably the largest Empire in history. A nation that still is barbaric and warlike enough that a lost football game has people honestly fearing for their lives.

Also, a Germanic group, since you seem to have trouble keeping language-families and cultures apart. If we were to talk about the family, we could add on the current most aggressively attacking nation (USA) plus the former most aggressively attacking nations (the second and third German Reich), also the people who killed off the Roman Empire for good (the Goths and Visigoth), the original berserkers (the Vikings) and claim at the very least the start of BOTH WORLD WARS. Why did you look further?

Some other sources:

Histoire de la vie privée by Georges Duby and Philippe Ariès, the first book  (about the antiquity) I read it translated, my French is ... bad to non-existent

The Day of the Barbarians: The Battle That Led to the Fall of the Roman Empire  (about the Huns) by Alessandro Barbero

If you speak Dutch or German, you might try

Helmut Birkhan: Kelten. Versuch einer Gesamtdarstellung ihrer Kultur, Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien

Janssens, Ugo, De Oude Belgen. Geschiedenis, leefgewoontes, mythe en werkelijkheid van de Keltische stammen. Uitgeverij The House of Books

DISCLAIMER

I’m angry and I wrote this down in one session and thus probably made some mistakes. I’m sorry. Or maybe I’m not sorry. I’m still angry. She can’t know who reads her FAQ and at least two of her answers (on her professional website) were offensive to the reader.

[newtonsheffield]

Hiii i absolutely loved the epilogue, sooo cute and funny and the ending 🥺 but now i have this teeny tiny question if you don't mind how do you imagine the night of the Formal if Katie had actually gone with someone else? like I just know jealous baby Anthony will be so funny, sorry i know that would be like an au of an au of an au (lol) but i just loooove fics with dances because i don't get any of those where i am from

I'm so glad you enjoyed the epilogue of A Letter That You Never Read! I really had no idea when I posted that story that people would like it quite so much but... I guess you guys did?

Anyway I would be more than happy to share with you a tiny taste of Jealous teenage Anthony, quietly brooding away in the corner. @missfairygodmother was also interested in seeing Baby Anthony get a little green eyed over Kate

In this AU of an AU of an AU

Anthony had been nervous all afternoon, well, for weeks, months actually, as he'd tried to pluck up the courage to ask Katie Sheffield if she would go to the formal with him. But every time he'd been around her, he just couldn't choke out the words. She always seemed so far above them all, distancing herself from the mundanity of teenage life, sitting in the corner of the cafeteria quietly reading a book while idiots hit each other with the dinner trays around her, her eyes rolling slightly as she walked past them. So he hadn't done it.

But he'd found himself considering what she would like, when he picked out his suit. Her backpack was green, was that her favourite colour? Would she like it if he wore a tie that colour? What flowers would she like to see on his buttonhole? Roses? or tulips or peonies or something else completely?

"Why don't you ask Katie to go with you?" His mother had said gently as they'd stood in the store and the woman taking his measurements had asked what his partner was wearing. "She doesn't want to go with me, Mum." He'd mumbled, more than a little embarrassed, deeply regretting the incidents that had caused her to become aware of his futile crush. "Did you ask her?" He shook his head "She barely says anything to me, Mum. She doesn't like me back." And his cheeks had burned with shame His mother had sighed, "I don't suppose it's occurred to you that she might also be too nervous to say anything?" And while Anthony had scoffed, he'd desperately hoped that she was right, even though he knew the very last word that would ever be used to describe Katie Sheffield was nervous.

Be'd told himself, as he got ready, that when he got there, and he saw her, he'd ask her to dance. He would, he would find the courage somehow. And he would tell her that his heart wanted to beat out of his chest whenever he saw her, that he thought she was beautiful and smart, and funny and he wanted to know her. He'd arrived and loitered nervously in the corner of the school gymnasium and then he saw her, and his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest.

Kate had walked in, heartbreakingly beautiful, her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, just like always, her glasses abandoned for the night, which made Anthony frown a little, but that wasn't why his heart broke. No, she was arm in arm with someone else. She paused at the doorway, listening to something her annoyingly handsome and square jawed partner said, her face breaking into a wide smile as he finished. Anthony felt something white hot rip through his chest seething at the back of the other boy's head as they walked further into the room.

Whoever he was, Anthony had never seen him before, but he looked older, a little more mature, and Anthony hated him. Petulantly despised him, almost as much as he despised himself for not asking her. She already has a boyfriend you idiot, of course she does, because you're a fuckwit and she's incredible.

He stood stock still in the corner jealousy tearing through him for god knows how long, wincing as he saw her boyfriend smile down at her, his fingers lightly brushing the flowers at her wrist. Roses Anthony noted, despising the pink tulips currently on his buttonhole. "You could have just asked her yourself you know. She's here with him because he actually asked her." Simon's voice said gently, as he followed Anthony's line of vision as Katie's boyfriend laughed. "Fuck Off Si." Anthony spat out, hating the truth of it, unable to stand in the room another minute he swept outside ignoring her completely as he past, leaning against the side of the building his chest aching.

"Anthony? Are you okay?" Of course she was here. Standing just a few feet away from him, the green of her dress shining in the soft lighting, an Amy Shark song, Adore playing in the background he realised a little belatedly because of course it was. "Yeah, fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He said, ignoring the lump in his throat. "Are you having a good time? Your boyfriend seems nice." Her brow furrowed just a little, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "You just looked kind of upset." Her voice was so soft, her eyes so concerned that right here, in this moment, it was so easy for him to pretend that she felt the same way he did. But she didn't. "Freddie's nice, we always have a good time together." Katie and Freddie. They even had matching names, his stomach churned while his chest burned with jealousy, and he instantly felt sick because he was making this so much about himself, when he should have been glad to see her happy.

Anthony nodded. "You look really nice tonight, Katie." He couldn't help himself. Her eyes widened for a second before she smiled. "Thanks, it's amazing what happens when a girl takes off her glasses right?" "It doesn't have anything to do with that." Anthony said sharply, his eyes catching hers. Surely she knew how beautiful she was. Silence echoed between them for several moments before "Katie?" A male voice called out softly, Freddie appearing seconds later. Katie smiled at him when he arrived, and Anthony's stomach churned again. He wondered for one wild moment, what it would have been like if she never came, if he never came, then he could have gone on pretending he had a chance forever.

"Sorry, Mate, I don't think we've been introduced, Freddie." He said turning towards Anthony, his hand outstretched. Anthony stared down at it for a second and then gritted his teeth. "Freddie this is Anthony." Katie said lightly and Freddie did the oddest thing, his eyes widened, a smirk on his face as he looked between them. "Anthony, I'm so glad to meet you!" He said, suddenly overflowing with happiness. Anthony felt his brow furrow as Katie ducked her head embarrassed. "Mate, I wonder if you could do me a favour, I hurt my leg at Rugby this week." Of course he's a rugby player, Anthony thought savagely. "And I think someone ought to dance with Katie." Anthony's heart stopped. Katie looked nothing short of aghast. "Freddie!" She hissed angrily, nudging him "Anthony, you don't have to,- I'm not- Freddie I'm telling my Mum on you!" Anthony's brow furrowed again, he was missing something here, something he couldn't quite place but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. He cut across Freddie's "Please, Auntie's not going to do-" "I want to dance with you!" Katie's head nearly shot off her shoulders as it swivelled towards him. Anthony felt his hand ruffle his hair nervously, cursing himself. "If you want to... dance with me that is." He couldn't breathe as her eyes flicked over his face, more than a little guarded until she said.

"Okay. I'd like that." Anthony felt his face break into a bright smile, his heart pounding in his chest as he tugged her back though the doors, leading her to the dance floor, his heart pounding as she wrapped her arms a little awkwardly around him, standing so lose he could count the tiny line of freckles on her nose. Content silence between them as the music swelled in the background. And then everything came slipping from his chest. She was so close he just couldn't help it.

"I really wanted to ask you to come tonight. And I'm sorry, I know it's not fair because you're with Freddie, but I've liked you for a really long time and I can't let you go away to University thinking don't care about you." He was breathing a little heavily by the end of his speech, the warring emotions that had been playing on him all night finally getting the better of him as Katie stared at him, dumbstruck. Anthony let his hands drop. "And now i've made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry. Sorry." God he had to get out of here, tears were pushing at the back of his throat, clouding his vision, and then her hand caught his. "Freddie is my cousin!" She said, all in a rush, "Well, my step mum's second cousin's son. But I had to bring him because I didn't have anyone else and I was too nervous to come by myself but I really wanted to see you one last time and-" Anthony couldn't help himself, his heart was beating out of his chest as he leaned towards her, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say with his lips on hers.

Her lips were soft against his, unmoving for a moment, before her hands tugged him more tightly against her, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. There was a small smilie on her lips when Anthony pulled back, a broad grin on his own. " I've wanted to do that for a really long time." "Was it worth the wait do you think?" "Abso-fucking-lutely." Their lips met again with a small giggle, and even though Anthony had just said the most embarrassing thing he possibly could have said after kissing a girl, he really couldn't bring himself to care.

[therosebudgirlwriter]

Little Puff Daycare (Chapter 4: My New Dad)

Baz

Simon was right. Rosie seems so much more excited to go to kindy, now she has two little friends. Unsurprisingly, Simon couldn’t pick which child, so he introduced her to both Georgie and Beth. Rosie gets so excited to see them every morning. By the end of the next week, she’s dragging me out the door. I even make friends with their mums. 

Georgie’s mum, Ellie, is also a young single parent. She’s the only person who has figured out Rosie is my kid. I even tell her everything about Simon. Mordy will not be pleased. She loves being the only one who knows about the Simon situation. She finds the whole thing hilarious.

So does Ellie.

I end up not seeing much of Simon. To be fair, I do avoid him whenever possible. After a couple days he seems to get the memo and leaves me alone. He keeps glaring at me whenever I talk to Ellie though. It’s the same look he used to give me when I would talk to his old girlfriend, Agatha. He must be jealous or something. 

If he likes her, he should do something about it, instead of just glaring at me when I talk to her. Anyway, he needn’t worry. I have no interest in Ellie. Or any female, actually. 

Which often confuses people when I mention Rosie. 

Ellie thinks I should just tell him. So does Mordy. I refuse.

Simon

I think Baz has been avoiding me. It kinda upsets me. Probably because I apologised.  

No other reason.

It’s totally not because he and Ellie have become super close. I mean he even took Georgie home with her, and when Georgie told me who she was going home with, she called him her new dad. 

Which I decided was cute. After I stopped feeling weird about it.

I don’t know what is happening to me.

I need to call Penny.

Baz

I took Georgie home on Wednesday, and apparently she called me her new daddy in front of Simon, because Ellie thought it would be funny. 

Ha ha.

She claimed it was punishment for not having the balls to tell Simon I’m madly in love with him. 

Her words, not mine.

Simon

I end up forgetting to call Penny until around 8.

“Um, hallo Simon.”

“Hey Pen. Are you free to talk?”

“Well it’s 2am here, but I’m awake now, so sure.”

Oh yeah, I forgot about time differences. 

Obviously I tell Penny everything. When I finally finish I can hear her start to laugh and then I hear Shepard. 

“Simon. You don’t know? Penny, how does he still not know?” “Know what?”

“Dude, you have a mad crush on this Baz guy. Just ask him out.”

Penny outright cackles at that one.

“I do not. You haven’t met him. He is insufferable.”

“I don’t need to have met him. I know all about his eyes, and his hair, and how he’s so sweet with kids. You don’t feel weird. You just have a crush.”

“But I’m not gay. What about Aggie?”

Finally, Penny intervenes.

“It’s almost 3am Si, I refuse to have a nuanced conversation about sexuality with you. Just think about it.”

And then she hangs up on me.

Think about it? Yeah cause I’m so great at that.

I do try to though, which means I end up with less than two hours sleep and no clue whether I like Baz or not. Why is this so hard? I mean I’m not gay. But Baz is gorgeous. 

Oh god. Am I gay? Fuck.

When I wake up I realise I need to be at work in 10 minutes. I’m only about 3 minutes late in the end. Most of the kids haven’t even arrived yet. Rosie isn’t here yet though. 

I’m way too excited about that. 

Baz

Rosie and I walk into the daycare drop off area. Simon looks like shit today. His hair is even more of a mess than usual. I have this urge to run my fingers through it. To try to make it look nicer. No other reason.

I say bye to Rosie and go to walk out, when Simon calls out my name. I turn around, and see him quickly walking towards me, like he’s scared I’ll make a break for it. I take a deep breath. I don’t know why I thought I could avoid him forever. Simon Snow always finds a way. Stubborn git.

“Hey Baz. I, uhh, I thought I should update you on how Rosie is going.”

“Good job Snow.”

“Simon.”

“Sorry, Simon. I am very impressed. You can say whole sentences now.”

Oh shit. Be nice Basilton. This isn’t Watford. I glance up at him to see how pissed off he is, but instead of finding him glaring at me, he actually laughs. 

Jesus. He’s beautiful. I can’t help but smile back. His laugh is contagious.

Simon

Basilton Pitch is smiling at me. Sure he was just a bit of a prick, but old habits die hard, amiright? Plus, I am way too tired to find him offensive. And he looks so cute when he smiles. Makes him look less stuck-up. It’s not the same smile he gives Rosie, but I’ll take it. 

I think Shepard is right. I’m head over heels for him. 

Baz

Simon stares at me for what feels like an eternity before he remembers why he came over here again.

“Right, sorry. Rosie’s doing well now. She’s super engaged, and she’s even started talking to the other kids.”

“You’re good at your job.” I say. He really is. Rosie seems so much happier. 

“Thanks. I love it. The kids are the best part of the job. Especially ones like Rosie. Your parents did a great job.”

I almost cry when I hear that. For some reason it feels more real when Simon says it. That moment of joy is short-lived when I remember he isn’t really complimenting me. 

Now I feel like crying again. For a very different reason.

Simon

Shit. He looks sad now. Have I offended him somehow? 

Great job Simon. You got him to smile and now he looks on the verge of tears.

“Baz? You ok?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Sorry, I need to go. Goodbye Simon.” he says as he dashes out of the kindy.

God fucking dammit.

Baz

I just make it to my car before I start sobbing. I sit in the front seat and sob hysterically. Other parents are staring as they walk into the kindy. I don’t even care. 

Through my haze of tears I don’t see the person approaching my car until I hear a knock on my window. Must be Ellie on the way to drop off Georgie.

“I’m fine Ellie.”

“Um. It’s Simon”

Just my luck. I don’t make eye contact. This is already embarrassing enough.

“Did I forget something for Rosie?” I ask.

“Oh, no she’s fine. You just looked upset and I wanted to apologise for clearly being a dick.” 

Of course Simon Snow thinks it’s his fault. I wipe my eyes and force myself to make eye contact. He’s looking at me like he feels sorry for me.

“No it’s fine. I just had a busy week and I’m feeling stressed.” 

See. I didn’t lie. I just told a different truth.

“Oh. Ok. Anything I can do?”

“Not unless you can convince my professor to make Friday classes end early enough for me to be able to pick up Rosie.”

He slowly blinks at me. 

“Can’t your parents or Ellie come and get her?”

I wish. But that’s kind of hard when your parents live like five hours away in Hampshire. And it’s even harder when you are trying to prove that you’re able to look after your own child. But he doesn’t know any of that. And I’m not about to tell him any of it either.

“No they can’t. Ellie’s mum looks after Georgie on Fridays, and my parents are staying in Hampshire at the moment.”

“You’re a good brother.”

I am very thankful that I don’t blush very easily.

Simon

I think I made him blush. I do feel sorry for him. Surely I could look after Rosie on Fridays.

“Also, I can’t fix the class problem. But I could look after Rosie for you? If you need.”

“I couldn’t make you do that. You guys close at 3, and I don’t finish till like 6:30. On top of that, my uni is 30 minutes away.”

I hate it when he looks all sad like this.

“It’s really fine Baz. Or should I call you Bazzy.”

There’s that smile.

“Bastard.” he says with a forced frown. 

“If you are going to look after Rosie, you have to at least let me pay you.” 

I wince, but sigh.

“Fine. But nothing extravagant.”

“I can’t promise that. But thank you Simon. I appreciate it.”

I almost swoon on the spot. He looks so handsome, even with a runny rose and bloodshot eyes. I wish I could record him saying my name. I’d loop it and never stop playing it.

He looks at his watch.

“I’ve got to be off. I’ll see you this afternoon then.”

“Don’t be late.” I say, smirking. 

“Very funny Snow.” he says, shutting his door. 

I watch as he drives off. He’d never date me. But I would be fine with us being friends. I hope he would be too. 

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 2

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 3.3 k

< prev | next > series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

“We’re all clear on the schedule, but I’ll repeat it for your sake,” you announced.

Your team was huddled around you, right outside the airport, with their luggage in their hands. You’d landed in Seoul less than an hour ago.

“So, right now, we’re going to take a cab to the hotel our company has booked us. We’ll rest, let our bodies recharge and adjust—because we left on Friday morning and reached Saturday morning in thirteen hours.” You grimaced. “Dunno about you, but my mind needs to adjust.”

You received collective groans of agreement in response.

“Great, you feel me. So we all do that first. And then we’ll collect in the lobby after lunch, at around 4 pm? I’ll have a word with BTS’ manager, and he’ll arrange for our commute. I’ll update you of the exact time, then. For now, let’s just go grab naps.”

You all hailed three taxis to the hotel, with Sana grabbing you by the elbow to make you sit with her. You did so, with a frown. She looked nervous. 

“Y/N!” she almost wailed as soon as you’d shut the door. 

The driver looked at her in alarm. You winced in embarrassment, and apologized in Korean. He started the car without a word.

“Sana, compose yourself. What is the matter with you?” you scolded the girl.

“Y/N, how am I gonna face him? I might freeze up at sight! And—and what if my brain starts to think up scenarios from… oh God, you won’t believe the kind of fanfiction-stuff I’ve read about him!”

Your ears started to warm up. You had some idea. It had been a while, sure, but you could still vividly remember the kind of fanfictions you yourself had indulged in—

Wait a second. This girl was gonna make you nervous, too!

“Okay, Sana, enough. It doesn’t matter how cute you find Yoongi, he’s our client. We’re gonna have to be formal with him. At all costs. We mess it up, we lose our jobs. You get that? So, think about your husband, try to be the professional woman he married, and for God's sake, stop making me overthink shit!”

Sana shut up, then, but her eyes still looked worried. "How do you do it, Y/N?"

You frowned. "How do I do what? I don't have a fucking crush on Yoongi!"

She gave a small laugh, looking slightly more at ease. "Exactly! How?"

You blinked, confused.

"I mean," she elaborated, "not just him. In general. How do you manage to not get dragged down by feelings and stuff?"

"I kinda had to." You snorted. "People are like leeches, Sana. You only stand a chance for a good, peaceful life if you avoid getting too close to them. Get caught up in feelings, get your soul sucked out of you. Get crushed under expectations, live the rest of your life trying to fulfil them. Die on the inside before your body perishes.” You shrugged. “A pretty horrid way to die, if you ask me.”

Sana gave a huff of laughter. “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

You froze. Sana probably said that rhetorically, but it still hit you hard enough.

It wasn’t the question of who hurt you, but actually, who you had hurt.

You shut your eyes for a few extended seconds, willing yourself to not think of the past. You succeeded for the most parts, too. But then Sana nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset…you…” She trailed off with a worried look on her face when you shot her a glare. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, turning to look out of the window. “I’m just done with my quota of personal-unnecessary-unneeded-interactions with people, for the day.”

You heard Sana sigh. Mentally, you sighed, too.

You all found the two vans a bit excessive. There were eight seats in one—there were seven of you. But Manager Woo insisted that the boys actually used three of these to commute, so even this was a bit miserly of the management.

Rich people problems. 

You shook your head with a small smile. “It’s all okay,” you said to the Manager in Korean, following his lead into the BigHit offices where you were to meet your clients for the first time, ever.

You chanced a discreet glance at Sana. Maybe your frustrated, shitty pep-talk in the taxi had actually worked, because she looked a lot more held together than she had ever since you dragged her onboards with this project.

“This way,” Manager Woo instructed you, gesturing towards a lift. “The security personnel will lead you to the second floor, and into the meeting room. I will join you in a while.”

You bowed and your team followed, and then you all stepped into the elevator that looked big enough to hold the meeting within itself. Two security guards, all suited up with a tie and fitted with earpieces in a stereotypical bodyguard look, followed you in.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together. “Guys,” you addressed your team in English. “You all have the detailed itinerary on your tabs, right?” At their nods, you pulled your own iPad out. “Good. Keep it on you when I talk about it with them.”

“Y/N,” Simon called out to you.

You looked at the fidgety guy with raised eyebrows.

“Are we gonna stick with the choices…” He trailed off when your eyes narrowed.

“We’ve spent more than seventy-two hours researching, Simon. Please stop with this.”

Simon gulped, but shut up. 

The elevators opened up, just then. One of the guards stepped out, and gestured towards the glass doors on the right. “That is the meeting room,” he said in Korean.

You all stepped out, elegantly, and you turned to bow to the two guards. “Thank you,” you said in Korean

They bowed in return, looking slightly flustered, and stepped back into the lift. You turned to face the meeting room, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled.

“Come on, guys. Showtime.”

You led your team as they walked behind you in pairs. Once you got to the doors, a guard stepped up from inside the room, and opened the doors for you.

A long meeting table sat in the centre of the room, with seven occupants on one of its sides. BigHit’s Founder and CEO sat at the head of the table, and the foot lay vacant—reserved for, you assumed, the Manager. Seven chairs also lay vacant for your team, opposite the BTS members.

As the door gave way, the CEO met your eyes. You gulped your nerves, and plastered a smile on your face. As you all crossed the threshold, the eight people seated on the table stood.

Dragging in a deep breath, you placed your tablet on the table before you faced them all. “Hello everyone,” you enunciated in Korean, and then bowed.

Your team followed your lead, and the people in the room bowed back. You kept your professional smile in place, discreetly wiping your sweating hand on the thigh of your cotton pants. Then you nodded at the CEO and he asked everyone to settle down.

“Welcome to Korea,” the CEO started. “Did you get here okay?”

“Besides the jet-lag, we’re actually very good,” you told the CEO to receive chuckles in response.

“Manager Woo will join us in a few seconds,” he then continued, looking between your team and the boys—that you were yet to properly look at—and gestured towards them. “Meanwhile, let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Bang Si-Hyuk, BigHit’s founder and CEO. Nice to meet you.”

You bowed, telling him your own name, and then shook hands with CEO Bang. Standing from your place, you finally willed your gaze to focus on the faces of the members instead of nervously looking into space.

Oh, wow. Cameras didn’t do these guys any justice, apparently. Not even the 8K ones, because they were really freaking beautiful human beings.

Dressed in lounge wear consisting mainly of extremely baggy hoodies as far as you could gauge, they still managed to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And their skin was glowing so bright, it looked unreal. But it was very much real because you were sitting across a three foot wide table from them, you could tell. It looked so soft.

You’d tightly held your lips up in a smile to save your mouth from dropping open.

While you were trying to get a grip on yourself, your eyes landed on a pair of brown ones framed by gorgeous lashes, right opposite to you. They were looking down. But then, they were looking up, as if sensing your gaze on them. Your professional grin involuntarily melted into a genuine one as Taehyung gave you a bashful nod of acknowledgement. You nodded back.

“Hello,” you mumbled, watching as his eyes grew wider. You blinked, releasing how private that sounded. You cleared your throat and ducked your head before looking at all of the seven guys in turn and nodding at each one of them. “Hello to you all,” you addressed them in Korean this time and told them your name. “And this is my team.” You gestured with both hands to your sides. “We’ll be your interviewers and companions for the next six months.”

A flurry of bows, nods and hellos passed over the table, followed by your teammates announcing their names. You doubted any of these would be retained, including your own. Which is why you handed over the seven identical copies of all your resumes to the CEO. “Here, Mister CEO. My boss had mailed them over to you, but these are to help the boys get acquainted with us better,” you told the man, and he gave you an appreciative seeming smile.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Namjoon suddenly said, smiling with dimples up at you from his place on Taehyung’s right. His black hair was ruffled and a circular framed pair of glasses rested on his eyes. “I’m RM,” he said in English, “but please call me Namjoon. It’s a pleasure meeting you and your team.”

You smiled wide, shaking his hand when he forwarded it. His skin felt super soft, just as you’d expected it to be by looking at it.

The rest of the boys followed suit, minus the handshaking. They all insisted you all call them by their real names, which felt almost funny to you, because you were gonna be unwinding their whole life. This felt so unnecessary.

Just then, the door opened and Manager Woo reappeared. He bowed his head in the CEO’s direction before taking a seat to your extreme left, at the foot of the table. “Hello, everyone,” he said, “did I miss anything?”

“Just the introductions,” Namjoon filled him in with a smile. 

Manager Woo nodded and then looked at you. “The next thing to talk about is the schedule your team has planned for us, so that we can sort out any doubts or disagreements that might be there.”

Nodding, you pulled up the itinerary on your iPad, and cleared your throat. “I have planned out a strategy of working on interviews, and then sitting back to compile everything in an orderly fashion,” you announced. “We’ll divide each one of the six months we have on our hands into two groups—three weeks of discussions, and one week of compilation. All seven of us would be working with one member each, one on one, continuously for a time span of three weeks. After that my team will sit together, compare notes and move forth with the actual writing part. Then we’ll check if something has been missed by someone and arrange for its cover up, before we move forward into the next set of three weeks.”

You turned to look at your team to see if any of them wished to add anything, but they nodded at you with discrete thumbs ups. You exhaled in relief.

CEO Bang nodded at Manager Woo, who hummed in response. “Sounds workable to me. Boys?” He gestured towards the band members.

You looked up to find seven pairs of round eyes and gawking mouths. 

Murmurs ran across the seven angels seated opposite you. While they were distracted, you took your sweet time looking at each one of their faces. They really did look unreal.

Next to CEO Bang, Jin and Yoongi were engrossed in some discussion. With their heads bent, their hair shined blindingly bright—Yoongi’s like liquid silver, and Jin’s like molten lead. Next to Jin, Namjoon was adjusting his glasses over his shut eyes as he listened to Taehyung whisper something in his ear, and kept shaking his head in response every few seconds. Taehyung was almost drowning in his oversized hoodie with the hood up, as he used his hands with those elegant ass fingers of his to cover his mouth while speaking into Namjoon’s ear. Next to him, Jimin was nodding along to Hoseok as the latter spoke in whispers, gesticulating widely. 

Your eyes fell onto the far end of the table, then. Jungkook, who was already looking at you, shot his hand up when your gazes met. His eyes were literally sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes?” you asked with a big smile.

Jungkook flashed his teeth at you, looking not a day over five years of age. “Is one week enough time to write?”

You frowned. “In theory, yes. But if things go south and we need more time, we can always extend the contract. Mr. CEO?”

“According to the clauses in the contracts, definitely.” CEO Bang nodded with a small smile. “The book has to be good. We can compromise with everything, except for the quality.”

You nodded in understanding. There was an extendable clause in your contract, but you had every intention to not have to employ it. Not only did your boss have huge expectations from you, but you yourself were determined to give this project your best. Better than your best. You’d wanted to manage a complete project by yourself for so long, this was your chance of a lifetime to shine.

Taehyung’s hand shot up, breaking you out of your thoughts. He looked beyond adorable with his eyes rounded and lips nervously folded in.

“Ye—yes?” you stuttered very unprofessionally and then covered up with a cough.

“Who works with who?” he said in a breath, confusing you for a moment. “Will you take chits out? Or ask us to choose?”

“Oh, no no.” You chuckled when you caught his drift. “We’ve already decided among ourselves and also done some homework. You’ll find your personal interviewers in your contract copies.”

“Did you decide by picking out chits?” Namjoon grinned at you, and you laughed.

It had been chits, but you weren't about to tell them that. “Something like that.” You shrugged, playfully, and giggles rolled over the table.

Manager Woo, then, launched into a set of instructions for the band members. CEO Bang kept adding details in the middle, and the band members just kept nodding along in a bored fashion. Maybe they’d been over this multiple times.

You sat back to relax, observing everyone as you listened to the set of rules and procedures you were already familiar with. You looked from the corner of your eye as Jimin elbowed Taehyung. 

“Did you want to work with someone in particular?” Jimin’s whisper into Taehyung’s ear floated over to you.

Taehyung’s eyes briefly met yours, nearly burning a hole through your head by the deep curiosity emanating from them. And then he ducked his head again, shrugging Jimin off of him. 

You swallowed, roughly. Oh, God.

Manager Woo wound up his instructions with a repetition of be as honest as you can be, and then called out to you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?”

You looked at your team. They shrugged. You shrugged, too. “You’ve covered it really well, Mister Manager. I’d actually like to emphasize one of your points—this is not an interview.” You looked across the table, at each of their faces, turn-wise. “There would be no cameras, no recorders, and no one monitoring your actions. Relax and be at ease. You should, in fact, think of the sessions as making new friends. You tell them about yourself, and they tell you about themselves. Only difference being, what you tell them will get compiled in a book so there must be a bit more of that.”

Your eyes met Taehyung’s and he nodded with a small laugh. The others gave you similar reactions, with Hoseok giving a two-fingered salute.

“That’s good. Also, Miss, we would like to request your team to work around the boys’ bodyguards.” Manager Woo looked at you earnestly.

“We’re really very grateful that you’ve agreed to our request for privacy and not enforced the sessions to be with the boys’ managers.” You shrugged a shoulder, and exchanged glances with Sana and Nathan. “And so, we would be okay working in the presence of the bodyguards, no issues.”

Your team hummed and nodded their own agreements. Manager Woo nodded back with a huge smile, looking relieved.

“We have the first interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” he then said as he distributed the individual contract copies among the BTS members and then your team. “Have a look at the details, one last time.”

You could, by this point, recite the clauses of the contract in your sleep. Yet, to be respectful, you accepted the file and placed it before yourself. You looked to your right and then left at your team. “Any questions, guys?”

Meryl raised her hand. Your eyebrows rose in intrigue. You gestured for her to speak up. “Yeah, um. About the secrecy clause—can we get a rough estimate as to when the news of the biography will be released?”

You nodded along. That was kind of a good question.

Manager Woo looked at CEO Bang, and all seven boys’ eyes adorably followed. CEO Bang readjusted his glasses. “We are planning a press conference at the end of six months.” Whoa. “I believe you’re going to have to keep this secret for the entirety of the project.”

You exhaled. It was gonna be kinda hard, but you’d manage. 

“I got you!” 

Your head snapped up at Jungkook’s shout of joy. He held the file in one hand and the other was raised up, mid-cheer. When all eyes fell on him, he froze for a moment before folding onto himself, bashfully. The boys all broke out laughing. You too had to stifle yours, by looking down in your lap, to maintain your professionality. 

When you looked up after a moment, your eyes met Taheyung’s again. He seemed to be slightly confused and kept looking between the file in his hand, you and Jungkook.

“Si… Simon?” he whispered with a heavy accent, but it was all you could hear despite the chaotic discussions happening all around you. 

You pointed at the guy sitting next to you. “Him,” you responded in English.

Taehyung’s eyes reverted back to you. “You?” he asked in English, very quietly.

You paused. “Jungkook,” you responded, gesturing to the still blushing boy with your eyes. And then, realizing how intimate your exchange was, you flashed him a professional smile. “Simon is great at conversation! You’ll have a good time with him,” you old him loudly, in Korean, earning smiles from the Manager and CEO.

Taehyung had still looked a bit lost when you tore your gaze away from him and picked up your tablet, but you willed yourself to unlock the gadget and not let your eyes stray.

This was just your first meeting, and Taehyung’s person’s intensity was already too much to handle. You thanked God you weren't gonna work with him one on one, or you won’t survive.

But, little did you know.

< prev | next > series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[twdbegins]

Gone From You

__

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, smut.

A/N: I’m writing in third person nowwwwww. Changing it upppppp.

Word Count: 2,161

“You know I could never sleep without you.”

__

He cursed under his breath for the millionth time that day. Why couldn’t people just do as they were told? He felt like he was constantly having to clean up other people’s messes just to keep things from totally falling apart. He expected there to be mistakes and hiccups along the way. That was only natural. Lately, though, it seemed that EVERYONE was fucking EVERYTHING up. The ones who were never an issue and always did their work well were suddenly falling short and causing chaos. Simon wasn’t trying to be the kind of guy that wanted to do everything on his own because he felt like he was the only one competent enough to do it. But sometimes it was easier to do things himself to assure they would get done right. He had been running himself busy to the bone, because he really cared about this place and wanted it to thrive. 

She didn’t like watching him do this to himself. He was totally overwhelming and overworking himself to the point where he was tired in all aspects. He was a hard worker for sure and she respected that about him. She would never discourage his work ethic, but what he was doing wasn’t healthy at all. He needed a break and needed to take time to think about better ways to do his job. However, she realized that getting this through his head would be a challenge. He straggled into his room late one night, already pissed off and not really in the mood to talk about work.

She wouldn’t have brought it up if she had realized just how upset he was. But like the efficiently sneaky guy he was, he didn’t exactly make his frustration obvious to her. She mentioned it calmly and sweetly, but didn’t get the response she expected;

“Simon,” She called; “I’m not sure that the way you’re handling these things is right.”

He yanked his boots off and angrily tossed them into the corner of the room. He scoffed and shook his head incredulously;

“Oh, great. Now my girlfriend is telling me how to do my job too.” He sneered.

Her eyes widened slightly at that. That wasn’t what she was trying to do. She didn’t want to aggravate him any further, but he needed to hear what she was saying;

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m really worried about you,” She confessed; “You’re running yourself dry and I just don’t want to see you completely stress yourself out.”

The tips of his ears went red as his blood pressure continued to rise. He felt like everybody was against him and that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t angry at her. She knew this, which is how she kept her patience. He desperately needed to talk about his feelings, but he didn’t know how to. He was only taking his anger out on her because she was there.

“Maybe I should worry about myself then, yeah?” He growled.

She tried her best not to take it personally. He needed time to process everything and cool off. That didn’t make his demeanor and words hurt any less. She went quiet for the time being. She knew better than to say anything else. He slid into bed shortly after, a deep sigh escaping his chest. He rested one of his arms over his eyes to keep any remaining light from irritating his sudden headache any more.

He knew deep down that he wasn’t being right to her. She cared about him and wanted him to be happy. It wasn’t fair that he was taking his own problems out on her. Against her head’s wishes, she figured it would be best if he was alone tonight. She waited a few more moments before swinging her feet over the side of the bed. She changed back into her clothes that she had been wearing earlier. He heard her soft racket and removed his arm to look at her;

“Where are you going?” He asked, a little less harshly than before.

She looked back to him, keeping her same soft tone;

“I’m, uh, going to go check on some stuff in the infirmary,” She said pushing her feet into her boots; “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He felt guilty suddenly. He didn’t mean to push her away the way he had been the last month or so. She was the last person he wanted to be on bad terms with. He sat up quickly and called for her;

“[Y/N], wait. I’m-” 

She was already out the door and on her way down the hall by the time he had a chance to get a sentence out. Another deep sigh sounded from his lungs, but for a different reason. He wasn’t being fair to her. He suddenly realized how his selfishness and pent up frustration was affecting the ones closest to him. He was always so quick to take it out on those around him. He considered it a fatal flaw of sorts. He didn’t waste much time before getting out of bed again and also re-dressing himself. He wasn’t going to let this go on. He owed her an apology and an explanation.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked down the desolate hallway. It was still and quiet during the late night hours, something he hadn’t been accustomed to in the last several weeks. He thought of her as he continued to walk quietly around the Sanctuary to the infirmary. The way she cared for him at all times of the day and how she was always there for him even when he probably didn’t deserve him. She always sought out and focused on the more pleasurable things about him. Like here he was now, being an absolute jerk to her and she was still patient enough to understand that he wasn’t angry at her. 

He loved her to an extent that he could barely comprehend, which was another reason why he felt a guilt ridden pit in his stomach as he grew closer to where she was.

He saw her in the wheeled chair that she kept in the room, she spun herself glacially from side to side as her eyes scanned each line in the book she was reading. Her head rested in her hand, unbothered and unaware of him standing in the entranceway. He watched her for a moment or so before easily saying her name to get her attention. Her head snapped up and her gaze averted to him. Her eyes were full of surprise at the sight of her boyfriend who she had just left back in her bedroom just a few moments ago. She was sure he would’ve fallen asleep by now. She closed the cover of her book and kept her stare on him.

“Hey.” He said somewhat awkwardly.

“Hi,” She replied back; “I figured you’d be asleep by now.”

He shrugged, his signature grin appearing on his face;

“Come on now. You know me better than that,” He said entering the room fully, closing the door behind him; “You know I could never sleep without you.”

She returned a warm smile at his remark. He always said he slept better when he was with her. She stayed in her seat, trying to gauge his mood. She didn’t want to upset him further by crowding him. He leaned against the counter where she kept supplies in the cabinets above it, just a few feet from her. He wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, but he had to say something.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He apologized in his deep, low voice.

She felt a wave of warmth wash through her. It was a relief to hear him say those words. She knew he had a lot going on that didn’t have to do with her. Still, it was nice to confirm that he really wasn’t upset with her.

“It’s okay, Si. Don’t worry about it.” She said finally standing from her chair and walking over to him.

He shook his head;

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t ever talk to you like that. You don’t deserve that.” He noted.

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. 

“You’re a man under a lot of pressure right now. You can only take so much,” She assured him; “I understand that.”

“Pressure or not, it doesn’t make it right for me to push you away like that and then get angry when you reach out to me,” He explained; “I’ve missed you.”

She turned her head just slightly so her head was tilted as she continued to look up at him. Oh, that face she always made when she was listening closely to him made him weak in the knees. He kissed her forehead as he let his own arms drape around her. He had so missed holding her in these moments where it was just the two of them. Even if it had only been a month or so without her, when it came to love, it felt like an eternity. 

“You know I care about you, right?” He asked, letting his fingers gently drag across her head and massage her scalp.

She hummed in response;

“Yeah. Of course I do.” 

He smiled again and kept her body close to his;

“Good, because I don’t ever want you to forget that I do care about you and I love you endlessly. You’re not any part of the reason I’ve been stressed out lately.” He purred.

She told him that she loved him back between kisses, something she had definitely missed recently. His slow kisses traveled down her neck, the sound of her whimpers and soft gasps beginning to stimulate him. She sank down to her knees and before he knew it, her nimble fingers were unbuckling his belt the way she had done dozens of times before. His heart began to race and his breathing quickened at the feel of her hands pulling his boxers to the floor to pool around his feet. He sprung free and forth in front of her, a devious smirk forming on her face. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of her head and wrapped gingerly into her hair;

“Oh, baby. You don’t have to-” 

A throaty moan flowed from his chest as she cut him off by wrapping her lips around his tip. She pushed her head forward and drew it back slowly a few times, enough to get him riled up before releasing him for a moment;

“You really want to talk yourself out of this?” She coyly spoke.

He only shook his head with shallow breaths, his hand persuading her head back to his crotch. She took him into her mouth again, licking a solid stripe from the shaft to the tip before he pulled out and slammed back into her throat. He pulled her head back enough to where she could do as she pleased, but he had enough leeway to keep himself grounded. 

He pushed back in, hitting her reflex as he usually did, but she knew to swallow around him and push through it. She looked up at him and his head had fallen back against one of the cabinets. His soft groans and moans were all she needed to hear to know to continue her oral ministrations. He eventually looked down at her, his chest fluttering and his voice ringing out;

“You’re always so good. So pretty on your knees for me...” He breathed out.

She couldn’t help but let out her own moan at that, he continued to help to pull in and out of her mouth. He fucking loved her. Not just in moments like this, because she was so much more to him than a good blowjob giver. Although, she was that too. 

She knew he was close, the slight twitch that she felt was a sign of that. They knew each other’s signals and signs backwards and forwards. It wasn’t like this was their first time together. It surely wouldn’t be the last. 

“God...you’re such a good girl,” He gasped, almost crying out; “Fuck...”

She felt his release hit the back of her throat, his eyes rolling back for a few seconds as he came in her mouth. She grunted lightly at the sudden sensation, but swallowed all of him and leaned back on her heels and wiped at her slightly teary eyes and swollen lips. She gave him a second to recover, his hand softly gripping her arm to bring her up to him;

“Come here.” He pulled her to him once more, kissing her tenderly and passionately.

She giggled against him and he could feel a little bit of the tension had gone. He knew one thing for damn sure.

He wasn’t going to leave her like that ever again.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

hi! this is a epilogue ask- do simon and mike ever get knick-knacks from all the places they visit? just to remember, maybe, since i know mike isn't really a fan of that stuff, according to the valentine's chapter lmao-

(Good, I sure wish I remembered ANYTHING I wrote, maybe then I could give a coherent answer. For now I guess I’ll just- try to make sense Though hey, at least I have a very coherent thought about what they’re up to)

No, Mike never had been a fan of knick-knacks. There was no point in gifts, even gifts that were attached to places, attached to memories. Frankly, there was only one sort of thing that truly could keep memories inside, in his opinion- hell and even then, it faded quickly. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Every new and exciting place they visited, they sat down, put up their make-shift radio station and started their spiel- Such a silly passion. But he loved it. Sending out words into the world… “MONSTERS AND MORTALS!” “It’s uh- it’s Monsters and Mazes-“ “God don’t remind me of that stupid movie. Don’t you fucking dare.” They both snickered a little, before moving back to the issue at hand. Dramatically Mike coughed, before getting back to the mic. “Alright, alright, fuck that, anyways, welcome to The Broadcast, the broadcast without a name, because fuck me, I’m not putting any effort into this. We’re currently still heading up to Alaska, so nothing new has happened so far. Tough fucking luck for you guys!” “As always, in uh- in that case-“ Cheerful Simon grabbed behind him. “We are getting THE BAG.” “THE BAG, THE BAG!” Mike cheered. “Random topic baaaaaaaaaag… tell usssssssssss… the random toooooooooopic… baaaaaaaaaaaag-“ Reaching in, he rummaged around for a few moments, before finally settling on a piece of paper, pulling it out. “Todayyyyyyy’s toooooooooopiiiiiiiic iiiiiiiis-“ “Simon, I will fucking END you if you don’t already tell-“ “Great. BECAUSE TODAY’S TOPIC IS ANGER!” “Wait, fucking what?” “Uh- yes. Here. Take a look.” Mike snatched the paper out of his hands, taking a look and- true enough. Simon had broken character already, snickering, but in no way mean-spirited. “Anger, huh… well, uh- what can I say?” “You need to be angry more fucking often.” Abruptly Mike stated. “I was working on my relationship with anger, but you never did on yours!” “Oh- it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m better off not angry.” “But you’re bottling it up and letting yourself be mistreated.” Once more the shorter of the two insisted. “You pulled the anger card, so we’re talking anger. You don’t get to just bother ME about this! You have anger issues too, even if kinda reversed.” “I never even TRIED to bother you, Mike!” “But you WANTED to. I saw it in your eyes, Si! I KNOW YOUR DEEPEST, DARKEST SECRETS.” For a moment both looked at each other- Then they started laughing again. Getting more comfortable, Simon looked out of the windows of the van, looking at the stars that were shining clear out here, where no other light could pollute the shine of the dark sky. “I, uh- guess you ARE right. I do still need to get angry more often. But…” Playfully Simon nudged his lover. “… that’s what I have you for, right? I don’t need to get mad about anyone doing me wrong when YOU are always ready to go!” “What. Are you fucking saying I’m SPOILING you too much?! Keeping you from growing a pair?! Fuck off.” “I mean, it IS a fact.” “Shut up, I don’t even get THAT mad anymore.” “Only at motels.” “Motels are filled with run down, vengeful spirits, it’s not my fault.” “They are. EXCEPT the ones that were advertised being haunted-“ “EXCEPT those. Yeah.” Mike also shifted now, his mind wandering. “One day one of these places will ACTUALLY be haunted and we’ll both hate it.” “At least we’ll be stuck together when facing an angry spirit. Honestly, uh- we’ve been doing that all day every day at Freddy’s.” It went quiet for a moment, Simon’s warm words not helping as much to relieve Mike’s restless mind. Mike took a deep breath. “… why is it always the anger that gets stuck down here? When you die, why don’t your good memories and feelings linger too?” “… perhaps because anger is… not really- it can’t get where the souls go. It doesn’t belong there. So it gets left behind and the person is free.” Somewhat he theorized. “Or maybe because anger is, uh- THAT powerful. After all, it can do crazy shit like heal you!” Suddenly, Mike snorted. “Oh god, I just realized- who thought that ANGER carried any sort of healing power?!” “Well…” Snickering a little, Simon played along. “It IS the emotion getting the blood pumping the easiest, right?” “Barbarian healer-“ Mike continued, before sitting up. “Wait, we gotta play some Dungeons and Dragons sometimes. We really do.” “With only us two? That’s not possible, right?” “Fair enough. Who knows! Maybe someone will hear this radio broadcast and want to join us.” “Uh, with all due respect, Mike, if there is ANYONE out there who has listened to these broadcasts and would want to join us… that is NOT someone I want to meet!” “Oh, so suddenly there IS something we can’t handle together?” Mike teased- Then he leaned forward, putting his hand onto Simon’s, gently kissing him. “I love you.” “I love you too.” For a moment both of them stayed calm like that, before Mike finally pulled back, grinning. “Anyways, everyone, this weeks number is- wait, what was the stolen phone’s number again?” Snatching it from the corner, he checked it- stolen directly from a store, so it was fresh and clean. “Ah right- it’s (REDACTED). Alright, one more time more slowly, in case anyone here wants to write it down… (R E D A C T E D). Give us a call! We’ll be on air for half an hour still, so- we’ll be playing music now, you have time to call!” Flipping a few switches, Mike put on the music, smiling to himself. Simon grabbed a bottle of water, to start drinking. “Uh- do you think- do you think anyone will ever call?” Shortly Mike paused, then shrugged. “Nah. But that’s okay. I’m recording these for myself anyways. It’s only the thought-“ Excited the former guard broke off, looking up. “… it’s the thought that someone COULD hear us. A little bit of our lives. A little bit of our love. That is beautiful to me. That’s something I would have wanted to hear when I was younger. This little thing show, between the actual radio channels, the small thing you don’t expect, but you still flip through the frequencies, looking for SOMETHING and then you suddenly FIND it- it would have meant the world to me.” Lovingly Simon reached out to grab his boyfriend, pulling him closer, holding him in his arms. They listened to the music playing for their imaginary audience, for the rest of the evening. After all- you should offer chance an open door.

[dragon-writes-sometimes]

Once Upon A Time... Not, Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

Chapter Summary: Virgil is very surprised at how strangers are coming to his rescue from the school bully, Jake Simons. He makes some new friends like that, as well as getting very confused.

Trigger Warnings: Bullying, verbal fighting, pushing, threats, confusion, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3492

AO3

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter   -   Chapter 5

Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

That sounds like… Anastacia comes into my vision, stands in front of me, guarding me. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you think you are! Nobody, and I repeat, NOBODY! Does that to my brother!” Anyone who doesn’t know her, everybody here except me, wouldn’t know that inside her mind, she’s screaming at herself to grab me and run. The little waver in her voice gave it away. But I’m so lucky to have her. She sets her own anxiety to the side to help me.

“What?” Jake drawls out that word. “We were just having a bit of fun. Ain’t that right, freak?” He looks pointedly at me. And earns a shove from Ann.

“Don’t you dare call my brother a freak,” she says, voice dangerously low. Oh-uh. I haven’t heard her use that voice since she beat the crap out of the only bully at our last school. He was degrading me for being trans, so he kinda had it coming. But still, Anastacia can be pretty scary when she’s in protective mode.

“Oh, I’m sooo scared. What’re you gonna do, British? Throw a teabag after me?” he mocks. Big mistake on his part, if you ask me.

“Did you just-” Oh, Ann is seething now. I can tell. To hell with anxiety, when you’ve pissed her off, you’re dead.

I look around the yard and, oh no! There are so many people! I need to get away from here! I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can feel it! Why couldn’t I just stay at home and never see the sun again? Ann’s talking, I think. Maybe even fighting that Jake guy. At least verbally. I can’t hear them. I can’t hear anything! Wait, I can hear my heart. That’s good. Right? Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack on the first day back to school in front of a bunch of strangers! I can’t- I can’t-

“What’s going on here, Jake?”

Who was that? Their voice sounds really calculated. But also kinda cold. Their voice broke through my panicked thoughts, though. Like Mother’s. Her voice was able to break through my thoughts. I’ve only heard their voice, but I think it’s someone I can trust. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a haze right now. I should probably open my eyes. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Wait, I closed my eyes? When did that happen?

Anastacia is standing protectively in front of me, like a knight protecting their most dearest with a shield from a firebreathing dragon. No! Not thinking about that! In front of her, two other students are standing face to face with Jake. They’re talking with him. What are they saying? I try and focus on them.

“… ould leave.” The voice from earlier.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to. Yo, Marco! Dillan!” That’s Jake. At his shout, two other students run over to his side. “The nerds wanna fight,” Jake laughs.

“We’d rather it didn’t come to that. However, I will indulge you if you want.” This is a new voice. They sound quite dramatic. It’s one of the two who came over. They are defending me? Why? They don’t know me. I don’t know them.

I can see their back. One of the two is wearing what looks like a dark blue polo. The other is wearing a dark red jacket with a crown on. Nothing too boisterous, but still. Bold.

“Can’t you count, Garcia? It’s three against two. British is obviously too busy with her weak-ass brother,” Jake smirks.

“Numbers don’t matter in situations such as this, may I remind you. Anyone with even just a slight comprehension of hand-to-hand combat will tell you that.” The first voice.

“Indeed, Simons, we don’t need to be any more to take you fiends down.” Red Jacket does what I assume is supposed to be a dramatic pose. Pretty sure the second voice belongs to them.

“Pfft, you really think your geek can handle being in a fight, Garcia? He would lose instantly.” Jake and his goons laugh. “He’s too scrawny! If I even just gently punch him, he’d break!” Jakes goons laughed even harder at that. Well, that really wasn’t fair! I really wanna help them, but I can’t do a fucking thing right now! It’s like I’m paralysed!

“You would actually be surprised at what Logan can do, Jake.” A new voice, sounding a bit more female. Well, it looks like they are here to help Polo Shirt and Red Jacket. “And how many punches he can take without breaking a sweat or slowing down in the slightest.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Quick E coming the weaklings to the resue?” Jake taunts. I think it’s supposed to be a play at their name or something.

“Har har, real mature, Jackie.” Jake sneers at the name. The newcomer (gosh, there’s so many strangers now, I can’t breathe) only smile at Jake innocently. “You know it’s Qikkie. Q-I-K-K-I-E,” they spell out. “Qikkie. Might look weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kikki’.” Oh, their smile is dangerous now. They kinda remind me of Ann…

“Virgil, breathe.” Who said that?! I frantically look around. Who the hell sa- oh. Anastacia. She’s right next to me now. She’s telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? I inhale sharply. Oh, guess I wasn’t.

She continues whispering soft nothings into my ear. I tune them out in favour of focusing on the conversation in front of us. Red Jacket is standing slightly in front of Polo Shirt, ready to defend. I must’ve missed something.

“Oh, go put a sock in it, Jake,” Red Jacket says. Jake just laughs. As do his goons.

“Hey! Attention here, hothead!” the newcomer, Qikkie, says, snapping their fingers. Nice bracelet. Why does it say ‘She/Her’ on it? “Do you really wanna turn your back on me? After what happened last year?” Jake visibly freezes. Qikkie just smiles wickedly. Wonder what happened?

“Fine. You losers win this round,” Jake grumbles, signalling to his goons to follow him as he leaves.

“You just conceded victory to us, so we are in fact the winners. Not losers,” Polo Shirt says, sounding puzzled.

Qikkie turns to Ann and me. “Sorry about him. Jake wasn’t taught any manners at all at home. He’s just a Neanderthal. Just ignore him and his brainless gorillas,” Qikkie smiles at us and offers a hand. The other two are still there, but it seems like they’re sending ordering looks to the other students because they start to leave fast.

Ann takes their offered hand after I nod an okay at her. She then gently lifts me up with both hands. Damn it! I’m wobbling a bit. My legs aren’t steady. Haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that push just took more of my remaining energy. I really need to eat better.

I quickly gain my balance and start signing. ‘Thanks, sis. Uhm, could you translate this next part?’ I hesitantly ask.

“Of course! Go ahead,” she says, earning a few confused looks from the others with us. Polo Shirt and Red Jacket came to stand next to Qikkie.

‘You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.’ I sign, allowing a tiny smirk to be visible on my face. Ann starts giggling a lot and has to catch her breath. Polo Shirt starts chuckling a bit as well, making Qikkie and Red Jacket look at them like they’d lost their mind. Maybe they didn’t laugh much?

Ann seems to have caught her breath again. “Huh, sorry. Right, translation. Virgil said, and I quote: You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.” And the others start laughing. Well, Polo Shirt is still chuckling a bit.

Qikkie’s laugh is light and not really that loud. Red Jacket’s laughter, however… it’s loud and boisterous and like music. Wait, what? Nonono, get it together Virgil! If you start these thoughts you’re only gonna start blushing and- and I’m blushing. Great. I look down a bit, trying to hide behind my bangs. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

They finally start to laugh off. And Red Jacket looks at me. Oh, no! Shit! They’re smiling! At me! What do I do?! Can’t I just sink into the ground or something?!

“I like the way you think, Virgil, was it?” they ask. All I can do is stand there and look really dumb. I just nod. I’m pretty sure no one seems aware of my internal conflict. “I’m Roman. Roman Garcia. He/him.” Red Jacket, Roman, says, extending his hand but backtracks and scratches his neck instead. At least he could see I’d rather not touch any stranger at the moment.

Polo Shirt collects himself and gives a tiny attention-grabbing cough. “My name is Logan Connors. I, as well as Roman, use he/him pronouns. And we’re glad to be of assistance to the both of you,” he says and gives a curt nod. Yup. He’s the formal type. He even wears a necktie. Who even does that in a school that has no uniforms?

“You probably already caught my name,” Qikkie chuckles. “But if you forgot it already, it’s Qikkie. Picani. My name’s spelt really weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kiki’,” they smile. They get a look from Logan that I have no idea what means. “Oh, yeah! And I use she/her pronouns for today. I’m a demigirl, or as I like to call it: demifemale, so you can see my pronouns on my bracelet here.” She lifts her hand with the bracelet I saw earlier. So that’s why it says she/her. Cool. “When I’m wearing the ‘they/them’ pendants, you can just call me Q. You don’t have to, obviously, but it would be nice.”

“That’s really cool! I’m Anastacia, uhh, Blake,” Ann hesitantly adds. Most likely because they also shared their last names. Qikkie seems to light up at Ann’s comment about Qikkie’s bracelet. “I use she/her as well. And this is Virgil,” she gestures to me. “My brother. He/him.” I give a small wave at the introduction. And then the awkwardness starts. No one seems to know what to say now. I just try and hide behind my hair and hope Roman doesn’t look at me. I really don’t know why my body reacted like that! What’s wrong with me?

Luckily the first warning bell rings, signalling for us to get ready to go to our next class, breaking the awkward silence.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, it would be best for us to head to our next classes. We can show you to your classrooms?” Logan offers, albeit a bit awkward. He must not be all that social. Welcome to the club. I nod silently.

“We’d like that,” Ann says after she sees my nod. She checks her schedule. “Uhm, I have Maths,” she says.

“Ooh! We do too! Roman and I!” Qikkie says, clapping her hands excitedly. “We can take you there and at the same time, make sure Jake doesn’t try and bother you!” Ann nods, but glances to me. “What do you have, Virgil?” Qikkie asks me. Guess she noticed the worry in Ann’s eyes.

I look at my schedule. And smile. I have Art! One of the few things I don’t suck at and have a hard time screwing up. ‘Art’ I sign at Ann.

“Art? Cool!” Ann says, genuinely excited for me. It feels nice.

“Well, seems like you’ll be keeping me company, as I also have Art,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. Must be a tick or something. He seems alright. I hope I’m not wrong like last time… “It is this way, Virgil.” I look around. Ann already left with Roman and Qikkie. I must’ve been zoning out. Wait, he’s walking away. Logan’s walking away. What do I do? Oh, right. He said he has Art too. I’m just gonna follow him.

I catch up to him pretty fast, though I do have a small limp from being pushed down on the ground. I really hope he doesn’t notice. We walk in silence. Obviously. Logan seems like someone who’s not up for unnecessary conversation, and I don’t really speak.

“So, Virgil. Might I inquire how long you’ve been unable to speak?” Logan suddenly breaks the silence. Great. “Do not worry about answering in sign-language, as I know some myself. Granted, I do not communicate in it every day. You do not have to answer if it’s too uncomfortable for you,” he adds after he, presumably, glances towards me and sees how I’m curling in on myself. It’s nice to know he actually cares about me. The least I could do after he and Roman basically saved me is answer him.

‘Well… I’m not unable to speak, per se. My throat just closes up a lot. It’s been doing that for as long as I can remember, really. So, I really just use sign to speak with others. Others being my sister and father.’ I hope that wasn’t too much for him to read. He did say he’s not the best.

“Ah. Selective mutism. I’m guessing you have heightened anxiety?” Logan asks. Wait, it’s actually called something? I thought I was just a weirdo. Huh. I do nod at his question about my anxiety. “Well, if you are called upon by the teacher, I shall translate as best I can for you if that is alright?” Again I nod.

He keeps his focus on me as we walk so I might as well ask. ‘Is there a specific reason why you know sign language?’ Pleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleas-

“Well, a good friend of mine, his mother is deaf. I spent a lot of time at their house growing up, so I picked up a few things, well, a lot. And I’ve always been fascinated by it,” Logan explains. Well. At least he doesn’t find me annoying. Yet. I think.

We walk for another minute in silence, my mind is seriously being an asshole right now. How far away is the Art classroom anyway?! Hey, it’s my first day, alright? Don’t expect me to remember where everything is to a tee from just one tour of the school! “Logan! There you are!” someone whisper-shouts. Someone’s waving at us, standing outside a classroom.

“Ah, that is my sister, Laylin. Relax, Laylin. It’s still another five minutes before class starts,” Logan addresses the girl in front of us. She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re usually here ten minutes before. Did Patton make you look at pictures of puppies again?” she remarks sarcastically. I’m just gonna assume that it’s something that’s only happened once and Laylin just keeps bringing it up to annoy Logan. That’s what I would do if Logan was my brother.

“That was one time!” Logan near hisses. “And no. Jake had sought out a new victim, so we stopped by to help. This is Virgil, by the way,” he says, nodding to me. I give a small wave at the girl in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Laylin, Logan’s twin. Hope Jake didn’t give you a bad impression of the school. It’s the fewest that’s actually like him.” They’re twins. Why am I surprised? It’s the only explanation as to how they’re on the same year as siblings. Right?

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. Someone’s always by my side, so Jake stays away. We got some homework, but at least it’s something we covered last year in school, so I already did it and won’t have to agonise over it.

When we arrive at school the next day, Nini is standing just outside the doors, waving at us when she spots us. “So. Heard yesterday was quite eventful, huh? Next time Jake decides to annoy you, just drop my name, and he’ll back off,” she says as we reach her.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ann giggles. We head inside, and Nini guides us in the direction of our next class. We still have another fifteen minutes, but we’d like to be in good time, seeing as we missed the first lesson yesterday because we are new and needed a tour and everything.

The classroom’s up ahead, someone’s already standing outside the door, not blocking it though. Wait, is that Roman? Huh. His wardrobe is completely different from yesterday. Ann noticed him too. “Hey, Roman,” she says when we get close enough. He looks up, and did he dye his hair since yesterday? Because I don’t recall that grey streak in his hair. Then again, I only met the guy yesterday.

Roman starts laughing. Well, more like cackling, really. That… is not the reaction I expected at all. And from the way Ann mirrors my surprise and confusion, neither did she. I look around us, searching with my eyes as to what could be so funny. A guy (I assume, but still gonna refer with gender-neutral pronouns until I know for sure) is standing close by and looks like a confused bean. Like, literally. Looks like the definition of an innocent bean. Blue shirt, glasses, a cardigan tied around the shoulders, and a long skirt on.

“Remus? What’s going on?” they ask as they move closer.

REMUS?! The hell?! I glance at Anastacia. She looks as shocked as I am; mouth ajar and everything. Does this mean that yesterday was some sort of planned out practical joke? That they gave us fake names just to ridicule us today in school?

I can see their mouth moving, feel Ann’s hand on my arm, but I can’t hear. Shit! Not having a panic attack now! Not gonna happen! Pull yourself together, Virgil! Don’t need to make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight. Repeat.

“…iddo?” Great, I can hear again. My eyes focus again. The others are staring at me. Did I miss something? I tilt my head a bit to the side, Ann knows it means I’m listening but think I might’ve missed something in the conversation. Which I clearly did just now.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Glad you’re joining us again,” the person in the skirt says. “My name is Patton, he/him,” he smiles. He seems really bubbly, it’s actually a calming atmosphere to be in. I smile faintly at him to make sure he knows I heard him. I can hear footsteps in the distance.

He opens his mouth to say some more, but someone interrupts. Someone who wasn’t there before. And looks like Patton. Like, apart from the heterochromia and some lighter patches of skin on the left side of their face, they are identical. And now my confused state has increased. “Could you keep it down, Remus? I could hear you all the way at the end of the hallway,” they drawl, pointing over their shoulder, down the long hallway.

“Oh, heya, Janus!” Patton waves energetically. “I made some new friends! I think.” He looks at me, smiling. He then looks back at the newcomer, Janus, and starts explaining what just happened to make ‘Remus’ laugh like that.

She smiles (Patton mentioned her pronouns somewhere in his explanation. It went too fast for me to get the context for why he mentioned her pronouns, okay?) and chuckles a bit. “I can understand why you look so utterly confused. You two ran into Roman yesterday, right?” she asks. Her voice is smooth and a bit deep. I can see Ann nod in my periphery. “It is most likely that he didn’t mention Remus at all. You just met, after all. But, they are not the same person. They are twins. Identical twins. Patton and I are twins as well if you were wondering, which I can only assume you were. We are not identical twins, but we look very similar still,” she explains, and now I feel like a total fool. And idiot. Of course, they are twins. That’s what makes the most sense. I’m getting a headache. “Oh, and I am genderfluid, so keep watch of my necklace,” she winks.

I look towards Anastacia, my anxiety forgotten. ‘I am getting a headache. There are three pairs of twins, not including us, here. This is gonna get confusing fast,’ I sign to her, to which she nods.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, taking my hand. “But we’re here together, so we get to share our confusion,” she winks.

“Oh, this is only half of us, darling,” Janus smirks. “But we should get to class, it’s about to start. Have fun.” She starts walking back down the hall. “By the way.” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Twin Squad.”

[basilgrimbitch]

Day Two: Swap

Normal high school AU where Baz is new to Simon’s English class but Penny is the one that gets assigned a seat next to Baz. Aka English nerds in love.

Words: 3457

Note: this is unedited and super rushed but its something!

No warnings apart from a lot of swearing. Enjoy!

_____ 

SIMON

“Alright so I posted the seating plan on the class page, did everyone get a chance to see it?”

While everyone scrambles to look at their laptops, I’ve already seen Ms. Possibelf’s seating plan and can I just say… What. The. Fuck. She’s sat me across the room from Penny (honestly fair since we never get any work done) next to some random girl named Trixie; she seems nice enough but so bloody boring. How am I supposed to make it through a whole year of English without Penny? I can hear the complaints layering up in the tiny classroom and I can see the teacher ignoring every single one of them. I don’t think I’ll bother asking for a change. Though, maybe she’ll listen to Penny?

I nudge Penny’s arm, I guess she’s already seen the seating plan too because she makes no effort to look at her laptop and moves towards her assigned seat.

“Surely the fuck not?” I don’t bother whispering.

“I think you mean surely the fuck yes. I’m not failing this semester because you want to tell me a gross story about your arms smelling like Cheetos mid class.” I’m smirking and she looks like she’ll bite my head off. That makes me smile more.

“That was once!”

“It still happened, and I’d rather hear about your smelly limbs at lunch time - or better yet, never.”

We’re cut off by Ms. Possibelf starting the class, or at least trying to.

“You should’ve all written a draft of your persuasive orals over the holidays, now you must refine them and prepare a final copy. These will be presented in two days.”

Okay as much as I’m a clown in English, I’m actually decent at it. I’ve already written and edited my script, so I really have nothing to do. I sit in my seat and glance at Penny, it looks like she’s done too. I’m fairly sure she’s playing fire boy and water girl, she’s playing both parts (because I’m not there) and she’s taking up the entire table, her desk mate looks so uncomfortable squashed into a corner. Who is he, by the way? The name on the roll was Tyrannus, what the fuck kind of name is that? So pretentious.

I open up Instagram on my laptop and text Penny.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Simon Snow [10:04]: who is heeeeeee

Penelope Bunce [10:04]: who?

Simon Snow [10:04]: the guy ur sat next to whats his name?????

Penelope Bunce [10:05]: got a bit of crush huh :0

Simon Snow [10:05]: oh fk off I haven’t even seen his face,,, whats his name??

Penelope Bunce [10:06]: he said to call him baz

Simon Snow [10:07]: hmm weird but cool name

Simon Snow [10:07]: what schools he frm?

Penelope Bunce [10:07]: idk do ur work Si

Penny stops typing, she looks me in the eyes then turns to speak to Baz, shutting her laptop. That’s such an odd name, right?

They talk, she’s laughing, he’s just sitting there so composed. He doesn’t look bored exactly, just that he’s better than seeming overly excited. Dickhead it is then.

Even though I think I’ve already decided I hate him, I don’t stop looking at them. He’s got long hair, its black and loose just above his shoulder, his skin is this gorgeous caramel that doesn’t need tanning and his eyes, they’re so grey a mix of green and blue I think and – fuck. We’re making eye-contact, not in like oh oops, more like oh shit why is this guy staring at me. He must think I’m a fucking creep. Shit.

It’s not like I care though, he probably thinks he’s better than everyone in this room anyway. But he’s just smiling at me? Fuck that’s a good smile. I think I’m smiling back, I can’t help it. He turns back to speak to Penny, they seem like they’re in deep discussion about something, I wonder what? And suddenly, I catch myself wishing I was her. Um, what?

The rest of the period flies by. Too quick, I think, not that I need more time to work, I just kind of wish… whatever.

Penny, as per bloody usual, is taking her precious time packing her stuff away. I walk up to her table, hyper aware of Baz’s presence there,

“Planning on leaving anytime soon?” I ask, trying to seem as nonchalant as can be, but my eyes keep glancing to him. I think Penny must’ve picked up on it because then she says, all smug,

“But then you wouldn’t get to meet Baz,” she gestures to Baz, who’s raising his eyebrow and smiling a little against his better judgement I think, then she gestures to me and then back again, “Baz, Simon. Simon, Baz. There we go.” He’s full on smiling now. Fuck, how can someone be so pretty?

“So nice to meet you, I’m Baz Pitch.” He puts his hand out for me to shake it – that’s so proper. I’m not even convinced he’s 17. He’s so calm and put together, these are not words you use to describe a 17 year old guy.

“H-hey, yeah, Simon.” Of course, I trip over my words, I’ve always struggled with that but I’m also really fucking nervous for some reason.

“Do you wanna have lunch with us, Baz?” Penny’s throwing her bag over her shoulder, looking at me like she knows what she’s doing to me and then back to Baz with genuine eyes. Penny doesn’t usually get on with people like that, that’s why we’ve been friends for so long, she really doesn’t have other options (not like I do either).

“That’d be nice.” He says, the corner of his mouth inching up, giving his cool exterior away. He’s not a pretentious git, is he? He’s just a boy on his first day of school; that’s fucking daunting.

We walk out the classroom – finally – and Baz starts telling us about himself and his old school. Mainly just answering Penny’s questions. Does he have siblings? Yeah, four half siblings. How come he moved schools? dad moves a lot for business. Oh, is he going to be moving again? Probably not until after high school, by then I could move out anyway.

I’m not usually this quiet. Usually I’m more social than Penny. I don’t know what’s come over me, I wish I could be her right now.

Lunch happens, Baz doesn’t really eat. Not like I was watching him. Well he was sat right in front of me and I just noticed that he wasn’t eating anything. Surely that’s normal.

I finally ask Baz what other classes he’s taking; other than English we don’t share any classes and then I let myself say, “that sucks.” But only because its normal, its not flirting. You can want a friend to be in your class. Penny still looks at me anyway.

But then he says, “I’ll just have to look forward to English,” and my heart melts.

______

I try not to think about Baz right now, in bed, but I am anyway, and I remember him telling me his full name; so naturally I’m suddenly typing it into the Instagram search bar. Aha! He’s not on private, thank the gods of social media.

I start scrolling through his feed, careful not to tap anything of course. There are a few photos of him alone, they’re gorgeous; he dresses so nice. Penny says I can’t dress myself. In one photo from a month ago he’s in this incredible suit, taking a mirror selfie in a bathroom that looks nicer than my whole house. His hair is slicked back (I think I prefer it loose – still so bloody fit though) and his cheekbones are so defined, he’s got that same face he had when we first met today – eyebrows raised, little bit a smirk, beautiful eyes.

I scroll down to the next photo, this one is different. It’s not a hot mirror selfie, its him carrying a little girl – his little sister? – on his shoulders looking up at her with a smile, a real big smile. He’s dressed a bit more casual too, still nicer than anything I own though it’s just jeans and a black button down. I keep coming back to the jeans. How can someone look so good in jeans?

I scroll through a few more photos, some with friends, some more of just him and a few of books he’s reading or places he’s visited. I feel like I know him a little bit better now – less in a stalkerish way more in a… well I can’t think of the write word. I can never think of the write word.

My phone vibrates all of a sudden and I literally drop my phone, so I don’t accidently like anything.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [23:13]: up thinking bout prince charming?

Simon Snow [23:14]: shut up

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: don’t blame u he’s v cute.

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: And smart.

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: you have my blessing

Simon Snow [23:15]: bugger off,, as if he’s even into guys

Simon Snow [23:15]: I was literally such an idiot today he probs doesn’t even wanna be my friend

Penelope Bunce [23:16]: AHA SO U ADMIT IT

Simon Snow [23:16]: did I even have to

Penelope Bunce [23:16]: ofc not. For what its worth I think u have a shot.

Simon Snow [23:17]: sureeeee

Simon Snow [23:17]: fuckkkkk im gonna be so dead tomorrow,, gn love u

I turn my phone off, pull my glasses off chucking them somewhere I probably won’t find them tomorrow and roll over to fall asleep.

______

We’ve got English first period today. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for English, but then I remember I don’t even get to sit next to him.

I walk into class and he’s already in there, we make eye-contact – way less awkward than yesterday – and he gives me a nod. Its friendly, it’s nice, it’s already a bit familiar. I give him a little wave with my right hand below the books I’m carrying but then I’m nearly dropping then, and my laptop starts sliding through my arms. It’s a shit show and it’s too early in the morning to embarrass myself, but I don’t get a say do I? As a say good bye to my laptop that is threatening to smash in the ground any second now – and any possibility for anything with Baz – I hear a chair scraping at the floor then not being pushed in. Suddenly, Baz’s hand is on my shoulder; the other grabbing my laptop that’s basically just resting on my belt buckle at this point. I beg myself not to blush, not now.

Baz is laughing. We’ve – he’s – saved my laptop and now he’s carrying it and my books; he insisted I was not to be trusted.

“Alright, special delivery all the way to your seat. You sure you’re okay Snow?” He’s using my last name because he thinks it’s ‘such a waste to not make use of such an iconic surname’. I like the way it sounds on his lips. I think I just like his lips and anything after is automatically perfect. Perfect.

He taps my shoulder, “you okay there?”

“Huh? Yeah yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep very much last night.” That’s not a lie.

Baz nods and says he’s gonna go get started on the work, I watch him walk away. The school trousers, they’re no jeans but he looks good in everything.

I try to do some work, making cue cards for my presentation, but I keep letting myself look over to Baz. Penny just caught me and stuck her tongue out.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [08:31]: ur staring

Simon Snow [08:32]: am not,, go away

I go back to working on my cue cards after making a show of shutting my laptop in front of Penny. I get through two more cards before I see a pair of shoes approaching my table. I look up and sure enough its prince charming – I mean Baz. He clears his throat and says,

“I hear you’re good at English”

“There’s no way Penny said that,” I laugh.

“True, she said ‘he thinks he’s better than everyone else.’ But I take it for good reason.” He smiles while doing air quotes, I smile back at him because I can’t help myself.

“Well, I definitely don’t suck.”

“Good. Do you mind reading over my script, please? I feel like it needs a little bit of editing.” He hands over his laptop, “don’t drop this one okay?” he chuckles.

I honestly don’t know how to act around him. I’m the epitome of those ‘act normal’ memes. He hands me his laptop and I start reading. His presentation is on single use plastics and it is so well written, he definitely doesn’t need my help. My neck is getting warm and I hope I’m not blushing at a script on environmentalism just because it was written by a hot guy. That’s pathetic.

But he’s not just a hot guy, is he? He’s smart – so smart – and he’s so kind even if you wouldn’t think so; when he helped me with my books today, I couldn’t help but think back to that photo of him with his sister, so much warmth and kindness expertly hidden under a cool and calm facade. I get to the end of his conclusion and look up in awe but he’s standing just behind me leaning forward waiting for my response. That explains the warmth I was feeling.

Baz doesn’t seem like the kind that would ever doubt himself but if you could see him now, you’d think he cared about what everyone thought about everything; and maybe he does, maybe he just hides it really well.

“Baz.” I make eye-contact with him, finally on purpose, “this… its incredible. I don’t even know why you’d ask for feedback. Your arguments are excellent, and your use of inductive reasoning is really fitting.”

His face lights up, a kind of innocent smile creeps up on his face and for the first time I think I want to kiss him. But even more so, I want to be responsible for more of those smiles. “Really?”

“It’s perfect.”

I look away because I don’t want him to see me blush. Penny is looking straight at us, she gives me one of her reassuring smiles.

______

It’s been two weeks of school; all my classes suck but it’s our last year and soon enough we’ll miss it. At least that’s what Penny keeps saying, Baz agrees with her.

Baz has been spending more time with us; we hang out at lunch time, he’s joined us for frozen cokes a few times in the past few hot days. It’s nice. I can actually talk to him now too.

He’s so smart, smarter than I had thought. He’s not just academically smart, he knows more than just surface level knowledge. Yesterday, on our walk to English he was talking about some article he read on the relationship between sleep deprivation and blood alcohol concentration just for fun. Though its nerdy and just a bit lame, the way his eyes light up when he talks about things he cares about, I’d listen to the summary of a thousand dumb articles to see that again.

Right now, Baz isn’t here though, and all my brain can do is think about him.

“Pennyyyy!” she’s lying on my bed while I do my art homework on the floor, she always comes home with me on Tuesdays, I don’t know when that started.

“Si, I already said no like three times.”

“Why not? Do you not love me?” I asked her to swap seats with me in English. I just wanna sit next to Baz, I can say I need extra help or something.

“I love you of course but I don’t want Baz to think I’m avoiding him, and I certainly don’t want Ms. P to fail me for disobeying her one rule.”

“Just please.” I give her my best puppy eyes and pouty face, “I fink I’m in wuv,” I say mockingly. She

throws an old stuffed toy in my face. I guess that’s a no.

______  

The next day I see Baz at the school gates, he’s holding a cup of coffee and his hair is up in a bun today. Flawless.

“Fancy seeing you here,” how can he look so perfect at eight in the morning. I don’t even feel awake yet.

Baz bumps my shoulder with his and we start walking to our lockers. We talk about the English reading we were set, we’re reading Lord of the Flies and Baz is going on about how he and Penny think the book would be drastically different if it had female characters.

“Golding said he didn’t add girls to avoid sex being a subject.” I say, and Baz just looks at me with his eyebrow raised. I call this the signature Baz look now.

“Oh, come on, as if every single kid on that island was straight.” I choke on nothing for a second. Baz and I have never talked about relationships or sex or sexuality. It’s not really a matter of discussion I guess but hearing him acknowledge the idea of guys being together, I don’t know, it gives me hope. That makes no sense obviously, he’s taking about characters from an English novel not himself and really its more an act of Baz’s resistance than it is a nod to gay rights or whatever. But, still, it gives me hope.

“True,” is all I manage to get out.

We get to English extra early after home room, and I start making my way to my seat. Ever since Baz started hanging out with us outside of class, English is back to being plain and boring, nothing special. So, with my shoulders slumped I mutter a goodbye to Baz as I walk to opposite way to my seat but then I feel something on my hand. Oh my god, its his hand. Its Baz’s hand. On my hand. Pulling me towards him. Its not especially romantic or anything. But its something!

“Hey! Swap seats with Penny, come sit next to me today,” surely this is a dream, I must’ve hit my head. “I need your uhhh help with the essay.” Baz doesn’t help, he just discussed key themes of the novel for breakfast. I feel it again, lingering in my chest, hope. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…” he says a bit quieter now, trying to seem as cool as possible. How Baz of him. Fuck I still haven’t said anything.

“What no no, I want to. I’m just not sure what Ms. Possibelf will say; or worse, Penny.” He pulls at my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand.

“What? Scared Snow?”

“We’re not in Harry Potter, Baz.”

“True. I’m wayyy better looking than Draco Malfoy and you wouldn’t be a very good chosen one. The worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen.”

I hear myself saying, “what so I’m not more better looking than Harry Potter?” Is this flirting? He squeezes my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand.

“You needed me to point that out? I thought it was a given. You’re well fit, Simon.” Simon. Hope.

I hum in response and with one final tug at my hand, he lets it go. I follow him (I’d follow him anywhere).

“Sit, I won’t bite,” He grins at me.

“Yeah but Penny will,” she better not ruin this for me. For us. I sit next to Baz and we start working on our essays. He doesn’t ask for help once.

Penny walks into class, glances at her seat, sees us and walks to my – her – seat next to Trixie.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [08:14]: u win. Enjoy!

I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.

Baz notices I’ve changed my window to Instagram DMs and nudges me, “how come you don’t follow me?”

“Huh, I don’t know? What’s your user name?” As if I don’t know.

Baz grabs my laptop, “I’ll just type it in.” I let him because I’m lazy and I like watching him type but then he clicks on the search bar and has the biggest grin on his face. Fuck. He can see my search history, “looks like you already know it.” How could I forget about that?

I must look mortified because he places his hand on mine. Second time today. “It’s all good. I already have yours too.”

Hope.

[inapat13]

Maso et Miso vont en bateau

Les Insoumuses was a women's group composed of Carole Roussopoulos, Delphine Seyrig, Ioana Weber and Nadja Ringart. They directed video recordings on feminist subjects during the 70's, for example they read the SCUM Manifesto by Valerie Solanas and made a short film about this reading. We often consider them as an important group within the French militant cinema.

In 1975, they directed Maso et Miso vont en bateau. The group made a handout for the screening at l'Olympique-Entrepôt in Paris, in which they explained their will with this movie. In it, we can read: « Nous sommes quatre téléspectatrices françaises. / Le 30 décembre 1975, après avoir vu sur Antenne 2, l’émission de Bernard Pivot  « L’Année de la femme, ouf ! c’est fini », nous avons éprouvé un besoin impérieux d’exprimer notre point de vue, de répondre…/ Exactement comme des téléspectateurs (trices) auraient eu envie de le faire si, au terme de l’Année de la population (1974), la direction avait demandé à Bernard Pivot une émission  « détendue, amusante et espiègle, avec gags, chansons et saynètes » sur les familles au Sahel, au Biafra, au Bangladesh, et qu’un ministre ait accepté d’en être l’invité d’honneur. […] / Aucune autre forme que la vidéo ne pouvait restituer avec autant de précision le document que nous nous sommes proposées d’analyser phrase par phrase, pour ne pas dire mot par mot. / Nous avons choisi de ne pas rester passives devant la télévision et d’exposer les mensonges, le sexisme et le manque de rigueur de ceux et celles qui prétendent parler à notre place. /Nous avons pensé que nos quatre voix en chœur valaient bien celle d’une Secrétaire d’Etat. /Carole, Ioana, Delphine et Nadja.»

http://www.film-documentaire.fr/4DACTION/w_fiche_film/55727

The video goes back over L'Année de la femme, ouf ! C'est fini which was a French program presented at the end of the «year of the woman» in 1975. It was hosted by Bernard Pivot and the main guest was Françoise Giroud the French Secretary of State for the Status of Women at that time. The goal of the program was to invite or to interview people considered to be misogynistic and to confront their speech with that of Françoise Giroud. The problem for les Insoumuses is that they didn't recognize themselves in the sometimes really clumsy and insensitive answers of Giroud, and they directed this movie as a feminist response to the program. This movie has a strong humorous and ideological intent. Indeed, the point isn't to discredit Françoise Giroud but to show the double standard imposed on powerful women and the impossibility for one woman to represent all women. In this idea, the four of them manipulated the program (repetition, addition of images and response cards) so they could create an imaginary dialogue between the program's speech and the context of the women's movement and struggle during this period. Maso et Miso vont en bateau appears to be a way for the group to speak out about what feminism is for them but it's also a way to call out the «year of the woman» which was a trick to ease the MLF (Mouvement de Libération des Femmes) march at the time. It was just an attempt by the government to silence the feminist demands; a failure of course. With this movie, les Insoumuses highlights the main problems within society but also within some visions of feminism. For them, no woman can represent all women and that's why Françoise Giroud appears kind of helpless during the program. She speaks in her name, with her ideas but the people in front of her just assume she speaks in the name of all French women at the time. That's what bothers the group. But they don't try to drag the Secretary of State down, they tried to highlight the fact that women in her position have to please everyone. On the program, Françoise Giroud had to represent the speech of the feminist movement and at the same time she had to be an enjoyable and calm woman facing angry, misogynistic men. So, she had to have enough power to speak in the name of Women; but not too much power to threaten the men. So Maso et Miso vont en bateau is a militant video showing that feminists are still there and that they won't be silenced.

https://earlyvideo.hypotheses.org/113

This video, however, is also very interesting in terms of form. Indeed, the video reused the whole program chronologically, but they played with its form so that they can strengthen the ambiguity of Giroud's speech and position. For example, the group uses archives to dispute the Secretary of State's words. At one point, Giroud said that people didn't care anymore whether a book has been written by a woman or a man. To refute that, les Insoumuses used footage from Simone de Beauvoir explaining how hard it still is for women writers to be taken seriously. The video is mostly constructed by cross-cutting and reassembling the program's clips, creating the effect of repetition. Every time we see audiovisual archives they are presented as a response to the TV show. The point is to create an imaginary dialogue between the protagonists, to show the clumsiness of Françoise Giroud's words and to highlight the strength of the MLF. Les Insoumuses also used a lot of inter-titles, like in silent movies. They appeared to interrupt the discourse of someone on the television program; it's a direct intervention of the group on what was said and it's also a way to orient the thought of the viewers toward their ideology. By insisting on what was said and what is about to be said, they're pointing out the absurdity of the speech; they're showing their feminist ideology. Finally, they used footage of themselves during the editing of Maso et Miso vont en bateau. At that moment they're singing « Tout va très bien madame la Ministre » which anchors the program to the present time of the creation of the video. They directly compare their address and the one of the TV show.

For me, this video is really interesting because it still has meaning today. The feminist purpose of it is still relevant and this video could be used today to talk about women's place within society. Moreover, the form is really representative of militant cinema at the time. Everything was about testing new techniques, new forms of speech to serve a social and political purpose. This work also highlights the importance of video techniques at the time and it's importance for militant cinema. Delphine Seyrig said that women were the ones who jumped on and showcased modern film techniques such as video. Maso and Miso vont en bateau is for me a really good example of what militancy through cinema was at the time, and that's why I like it so much.

Lola Puel.

[ariadnelives]

Chapter 26 -- The Assault

[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3”]

Later that day, several dozen heavily-loaded shuttles fell into orbit over Phobos. Ariadne was upset that they didn’t take more time to plan before moving on Dr. Simon himself, but as Spacebreather pointed out, they didn’t have time to stall. If they waited more than a few hours, the cult would have a chance to move him.

Most of Ariadne’s ground forces disembarked about half a kilometer from the facility’s entrance. Several dozen spacesuit-clad armed acolytes were standing outside exactly one of the caves, so the crew figured that was likely to be the door the Zealot was behind.

“Bring the noise, querida,” Ariadne said into her comm and the last remaining ship immediately did several flips in midair and fired off several plasma bolts that, despite the ship’s advanced targeting system, somehow managed to not hit any hostiles. After a beat, she scoffed, “Showoff.”

“You love it,” Spacebreather’s voice returned through the comm. “Get in there and knock these guys out so I can join you on the ground.”

“We’re on our way,” Ariadne chuckled.

“You got five minutes,” Pilar’s voice buzzed back, “and then I stop missing on purpose.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Ariadne replied. “Te amo, terminado.”

“Terminado,” Pilar agreed, and switched off her comm.

“Do you think the Triplets will be okay with Fastwing?” Sasha asked Sweettalk on a private channel.

“Yeah, I mean, you got their chips out, right?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sasha replied, “I feel like we shouldn’t have brought them with us. We just got them away from these creeps.”

“They wanted to come,” Sweettalk said, “If we can get Dr. Simon in custody I’m sure they’ll want the chance to confront him, and if the shit hits the fan, they’re with the best pilot in the system--”

As if by magic, Pilar took this opportunity to do a showy corkscrew maneuver over the crowd of acolytes, narrowly avoiding several shots from their weapons, and releasing a cloud of multicolored smoke to disorient her attackers.

“--Okay, the second best pilot in the system. If we get hurt, Alicia will get them to safety.”

“Plus,” Sasha added, “I’m betting she does something cool with their hair.”

“She has a gift,” Sweettalk agreed. “Point is, we just convinced your sister it was bad to keep people grounded for their own protection, so we sorta screwed ourselves out of the right to object when the triplets want to come along.”

“Heh,” Sasha laughed. “You know, I only just now got why that’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“Just the idea of keeping someone ‘grounded’ in a spaceship.”

“Mm,” Sweettalk agreed, “and now that you’re not grounded anymore you’re actually, you know, on the ground.”

This went on in this fashion for a little while. The rest of the crew didn’t know how grateful they ought to be that Sasha and Sweettalk were speaking on a private channel. There are only so many jokes on the word “grounded” that two people can make before their friends and loved ones feel compelled to intervene, and there is little point in attempting to quantify exactly how far past this point Sasha and Sweettalk went as the crew took their positions and systematically knocked out each of the acolytes guarding the entrance. By the time they had finished, Sasha and Sweettalk were both breathless with laughter from their rapidfire, almost vaudevillian exchange of “grounded” puns.

“Everyone grab one,” Ariadne called out on the public comms.

“Why?” Lefthook replied, “I mean, there’s a limited amount of air in those suites, can’t we just… let the problem take care of itself?”

“We’re sending a message,” Ariadne replied. “Ghostrunner and Spacebreather killed hundreds of their acolytes in self-defense. These guys don’t pose a threat to us.”

“You know they’ll wake up eventually, right?” Lefthook responded, begrudgingly joining the others in hauling the unconscious cultists through the airlocks.

“Once they’re inside, we’ll cut their air lines,” Ariadne explained. “They’ll live as long as they don’t try to go back outside. Once we’ve got Dr. Simon back on Ship Trap with a gun to his head, we’ll contact the authorities and let them deal with these guys.”

Pilar came marching over the ledge with a very large assault rifle slung over her shoulder. “Don’t forget to take their guns, these things are choice.”

“Fair point. Take their guns, we don’t know how many others are in here anyway.”

“Girls!” Alicia called, coming around the corner with her styling kit, “I thought you might enjoy some new hairstyles! I mean, I like a nice bob as much as the next lady but--”

She was left speechless at the sight of the Triplets. They sat together, glowing a slightly artificial blue. Alicia could not tell which of them had been cybernetically augmented. All evidence of injuries had vanished. It was as though all three girls were simultaneously completely organic and completely synthetic. There was something about it that caused Alicia to want to look away on an instinctive level, but she couldn’t.

“What is this?” Alicia finally stammered out.

“Something new,” all three girls mused in a single voice.

“What did you do?” Alicia asked, starting to rush towards them but quickly recoiling, out of fear that they might be contagious, or even radioactive.

“We touched,” they responded, “and understood. This is what we were built for. Evolution. Adaptation. We were designed to grant our father immortality. Our bodies will incorporate anything that facilitates our continued existence, and adapt to survive anything that threatens it.”

“Whatever doesn’t kill you,” Alicia muttered and trailed off. “I’ll be damned…”

“We have to go into the cave with them,” The Triplets responded. “Their plan is going to fail.”

Several minutes and about fifty unconscious and several seriously wounded acolytes later, Ariadne and Spacebreather reached the door to the throne room with Sweettalk and Sasha in tow.

“Stand watch,” Ariadne directed Lefthook to lead the other other troops in the corridor. “Non-lethal force if you can, but if someone’s going to die, don’t let it be you. That goes for all of you.”

“Yes, cap!” The girls replied, and unholstered their weapons.

A moment later, Pilar kicked down the door to the throne room. “ON THE GROUND, ASSHOLE!”

A single acolyte manned a computer terminal that seemed to have no screen and only two silver joystick-like appendages for controls.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK ON YOUR KNEES IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THEM,” Pilar bellowed.

The Acolyte fall to his knees.

“Where is Dr. Simon?” Ariadne asked calmly, “You’re gonna want to talk fast or else my associate is going to find some creative ways to make you glad those robes are already red.”

“He is here!” He whimpered. “The Zealot is all around us.”

“Babe, do I have your permission to start cutting off fingers again if he doesn’t get serious?” Pilar asked.

“I’d listen to her,” Sweettalk chimed in, “Last guy she took a finger from ended up decapitated.”

“He is all around us!” He pleaded. “Please, look!”

He gestured at an ornate golden table near the center of the room.

“Spacebreather, keep your gun trained on his head. If he tries anything funny, see if you can take it off in one shot,” Ariadne slowly started inching toward the table.

“With pleasure,” Pilar stroked the trigger of her rifle carefully.

Ariadne looked down on the table, through the inset glass to what lay within.

Lying motionless inside the table was an unmistakable face with a neatly trimmed gray beard and a straight, pointed nose.

“This is not Dr. Simon,” Ariadne replied. “This is his body. Where is Dr. Simon?”

“Back up,” Sasha asked. “Dr. Simon’s body?”

“Prescott had to tell me something to convince me it was worth it to help him,” Ariadne replied. “This body has been dead for fifteen years. Dr. Simon, on the other hand--”

“--Viable Lazarus,” Sweettalk gasped. “Lazarus, we should’ve seen it all along. They’re trying to bring him back from the dead.”

“I’m only going to ask you one more time before I let my beautiful associate indulge her itchy trigger finger,” Ariadne replied. “Where is the server containing Dr. Simon’s consciousness?”

“I already told you,” the acolyte began crying, “He is all around us.”

“Look at the walls,” Sasha marveled, “Sis, they’re--”

“Databanks,” Ariadne replied, “We’re standing inside the most massive supercomputer in the system.”

“Do we just smash them?” Pilar asked.

“If you destroy the servers, you’ll kill more than the Zealot,” the Acolyte offered, “The databanks are full of lost souls who’ve seen the light of the Red God.”

“What is he talking about?” Pilar asked.

“He’s using a few thousand human shields,” Ariadne was disgusted. “All those people who took a Suffering Test for this wackjob were signing up to be brainwashed. He hollows out their head and fills it with their programming, and their consciousness ends up imprisoned here. If we unplug the whole system, there’ll be no way to restore the people he’s got under his little spell.”

“You, crybaby,” Pilar jabbed the Acolyte with her rifle, “dial this jerk up, how do you talk to him?”

“If he wishes to send messages, he can, but in order to speak directly with him… without ViLaz as a relay, we have to enter the system ourselves to gain an audience with him. There’s a psionic interface--”

“--And how do you go about deleting individual files from this system?”

“I don’t see a screen or a keyboard or else I might be able to hack in.”

“No synthetic computer can interface with His prison,” the Acolyte whimpered, “Only a human brain has the processing power necessary to access the system.”

Ariadne chuckled. “I’d almost admire it if it wasn’t so evil. He’s actually built a computer I can’t hack.”

“So, how do we get in?” Pilar asked.

“Stands to reason that each drive in these databanks contains one consciousness,” Ariadne said, “So, if I can access the system, I should be able to identify the drive with administrator permissions, then all we’ve got to do is yank that one out, take it home, and format it.”

“Patch in, like, connect your brain to this thing?” Spacebreather asked incredulously.

“Have you ever seen a computer more powerful than my brain?” Ariadne asked.

“Yeah, babe, this one,” Pilar snapped gesturing at the entire room made of computer that they were standing in, “it’s absolutely out of the--”

Ariadne very pointedly said nothing at her, which managed to stop Pilar cold.

“There’s no keeping you from doing this, is there?” Pilar sighed.

“I’ll be safe,” Ariadne promised. “In and out.”

“You’d better,” Pilar warned. “If you die, I’m coming after you.”

Ariadne smirked. “You’d better not.”

Ariadne planted a kiss on Pilar’s lips and then got immediately to work.

[jcmorgenstern]

3x12 “review” (aka whining)

Okay so 3x12! First the things I liked, so this doesn’t come off as a gigantic whining list of things I hated. (I feel kind of bad I didn’t do a 3x11 review because I actually really liked that one, but I guess I have more motivation to whine than anything else).

readmore for length and sanity.

So things I liked:

Luke and Jace interaction! Though the pacing was absolutely insane and I absolutely refuse to believe that the Clave has the infrastructure in place to take detailed barometric readings in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE SIBERIA, so detailed that Jace can easily pinpoint exactly where the apartment was. Like I wouldn’t believe they have that kind of detail in rural Iowa, let alone a place that’s colder than balls.

That last point was all whining.The Morgenstern sword!! Y’all have NO idea how long I spent being mad that Valentine didn’t have it in the first two seasons. It now seems a bit odd to introduce it now considering Valentine didn’t in fact ever have it, but whatever. Also Clary being like “fuck Morgenstern weapons” was kind of funny considering her kindjals are waiting at home.

Magnus’ storyline. Though it’s kind of weird and rushed and confused, I’m just glad my man is getting some real focus on him as a person rather than a love interest or idk some overblown “son of Edom” thing.

Cain was, I admit, a really cool and interesting concept, and I already really like Pasha!! I hope he’s continuing to get better after his surgery. Don’t love as much how they’re mainlining Lilith as the Biggest Bad Ever and a Whole Evil B*tch (more on that lovely term of endearment later).

Mirek was really cool, kind of had to laugh at the “demon middle class.” Can’t help but wonder if the “status quo” thing was a deliberate political joke or not. Either way, Jonathan has never met a structure he doesn’t want to overthrow. Does the Clave spark joy? Apparently not.

MELIORN IS BACK!!!!! And wants a threesome, apparently.

Jonathan peevishly being like “I forgive you for trying to kill me, btw” and Clary just rolling her eyes and ignoring him.

Jonathan’s fucking GAAAY. (Or bi. pan. whatever. You do you. All I’m saying is THIS BITCH RAINBOW). I do not care what the intention was, that’s what I’m choosing to get out of it.

Things I didn’t like:

the plot of this episode is pretty much enough material for an entire season. They compressed it so much people are calling it a filler episode. Jace and Luke figure out the secret of the apartment (which is untraceable), go to Siberia, figure out Jonathan is alive, find Clary and rescue her and that’s only about 15 minutes of footage overall. That could be spread out over 15 episodes.

On the Simon side: they find the first fucking vampire, become his new bestie, get the only thing in the world that could rid him of the mark without any sort of price or even really having to ask, they get back into Faerie without any problems, Meliorn takes them right to the Queen despite knowing Simon has a weapon of death on his face, she agrees without argument to unmark him not even knowing if he’ll explode or what, the mark is off in about 14 seconds, the FUCKING DRUG PLOTLINE IS BACK AG A. I N. And then rose petals. That could have been the entire SEASON.

No Maia. (I know she’s in the next ep I just want to complain).

It’s also weird because it seems like Malec is progressing on normal time and the other two story strands are progressing on some extreme kind of fast-forward. It gives you all kinds of whiplash. If there was any kind of thematic overlap or even an attempt to connect the strands thematically it might work to ground the other storylines but it. Does not.

I hate that the apartment is Lilith’s and not Valentine’s, and that apparently it can only go to a few select spots now. NOT. THE. POINT. Point = missed.

And onto the things that bothered me the most: the whole treatment of Jonathan and Clary, and the Sizzy. For which I need an entire section to bitch.

Jonathan and Clary: why god have you abandoned me

* Ok so honestly, I had to go and check to see who wrote 3x11 and 3x12, because  it had to be different people. 3x11 was by Todd and Darren, and 3x12 was by Alex Schemmer. Schemmer has only written one other episode in 3a (3x03), which explains to me why he seems to have missed a fair bit of lore. To me, the huge difference between 3x11 and 12, which basically deal with the same plot line (Clary kidnapped by Jonathan, wary of him, trying to escape) but in hugely different ways and different focus.

In 3x11, the focus is all on Clary. Her initial confusion, her fear, anger, the attempt to escape, the attempt to kill Jonathan. All shot from her point of view. She takes more action than he does—she runs away, she grabs the knife, she stabs him. He is mostly reacting to her, running after her, offering her soup and tea and trying to win her over. Even when he does talk, the scenes where he talks about himself are brief and she shares equal part in the conversation.

This makes sense, as she is the main character.

In 3x12, everything is about Jonathan. From the first shot everything is about him, the camera focusing on him even when Clary is the focus of the scene (i.e., when she’s finding new clothes—and was a shirtless scene necessary? Like we get it, you nearly killed poor Luke in a gym somewhere, thanks for the update). Every time he and Clary talk, it’s just him talking at her. “I forgive you for killing me.” Telling her she’s good at art. Telling her there’s an Institute nearby. Telling her he likes art. She can barely get a word in edgewise from the get-go, and it only gets worse on the hot chocolate “date.”

He says the whole point is to get to know each other better, but he LITERALLY talks about himself the whole time. Clary barely even reacts, just makes eyes at a phone. He doesn’t even seem to notice she’s not listening. Like guys, this is every bad tinder date ever. Then they go to to the antiques store, and even then she’s shuffled off—shoo! Get out of the scene!! Even the French guy interrupts her at every turn and she gets shuffled off like a sack of potatoes *again*.

Like don’t tell me Clary couldn’t kick his ass and then explain things to him when he’s pinned to the ground. It would be faster, safer, and if Jonathan shows up again she can be like “ohh he was threatening us!! Look, I beat him up to keep us safe!” and Jonathan would buy it hook, line, and sinker. Since killing people in broad daylight is ok, clearly the show isn’t worried about the realism of fighting in the streets.

And then she’s shuffled off AGAIN, and although the show clearly understands that being kidnapped and controlled by your dangerously unhappy brother who seriously has the creepy hots for you is a pretty freakin SCARY situation, it still shows all this from Jonathan’s point of view, teasing the “romance” of it all and giving us hehe teehee little slips of it (like the shirtless scene). And then when she finally is able to break free and actually do something, he yells “BITCH” at her and runs off, and she falls into Jace’s arms, completely forgetting to act like a real human being.

The reason why 3x11 works so much more for me is that Clary is at least an equal partner, and is given space to react and actually do things; in 3x12 they seem to take any excuse to bundle her off, keep her out of frame, mute her reactions. Jonathan and his feelings take center stage and suddenly Clary is a side character in her own story. 3x11 is more compelling because Jonathan is legitimately trying to win her over, trying to connect with her, personally. It’s obvious he cares about her opinions as a person and her as a person—you couldn’t replace her with a cardboard cutout and the scene would read the same. They actually interact. In 3x12 he’s just ranting at her about himself while she sits there. On no narrative level is there any sort of connection or interaction.

Like imagine the situation differently. They’re in art store, because lbr the real museums prolly wouldn’t let them shoot there, and Clary is talking to Jonathan about her favorite prints and artists. He’s listening, maybe a little too intently, maybe talks about a piece he likes and what it means to him. She looks unnerved. As they talk, the camera follows her gaze, and we realize she is trying to find someone’s phone to take it. She’s pretending, of course, but there is something charming about Paris. Jonathan keeps offering to buy her souvenirs, very awkwardly, trying to find something to please her. She picks something to make him happy. He returns from the register just before she can make a grab for someone’s phone and bolt for the door. He suggests they go to the cafe across the square. We cut to where they’re sitting down, she’s tearing into a croissant. Jonathan is wearing a “I <3 PARIS” cap, which is a bit jarring and distracting. Clary tells him it looks silly and he takes it off. He mentions in a forcedly offhand way that this is where he met Sebastian Verlac, and seeing her expression, quickly adds that he knows what he did is wrong. She says something along the lines of “do you, tho” and he launches into his monologue. She tells him that she liked Sebastian Verlac, even though she never met the real him. He looks happy at first, then seems to understand what she means, and his expression darkens. He tells her that that’s exactly what Valentine said she would say—that she likes Sebastian, not him. She looks disturbed at the mention of Valentine, and he takes the opportunity to tell her the whole thing about not wanting to hurt anyone and the whole thing being about killing Valentine.

And yada yada yada you get the idea.

Honestly the whole rescue felt very contrived—how convenient Clary has been posthumously pardoned one day before her rescue! And then Jonathan calling her a bitch—haha no thanks. The entitlement is uhh Not Great.

Anyway tldr @ Alex schemmer Clary is not a sofa pls give her some human emotion pls and thanks

Sizzy: why god have you abandoned me, the sequel

Honestly writing that entire wall of text wiped me out but ill try

The drug arc is the bane of my existence

Im so tired

I thought we’d be done in season 2 yet here we are at the end. Drug arc: 1. Actual character development: 0.

Why is this the ONLY plot line the show can remember or keep running for more than 2 episodes. WHY

Why does she even like Simon. They never interact. They don’t even know each other. Everything is just an excuse to get them together. it’s forced and leaden.

Playing her and Raph off as badwrong and her and Simon as rose petal romantic is weird af dude. Izzy has just been the tail end of male characters’ storylines for so long and I’m tired.

If they’d played it off as a sacrifice on her part I might be less mad, like paint her as a hero but it just felt like this was expected of her. It was romantic because there was nothing else to do and OF COURSE she couldn’t refuse!!! Please be realistic, she’s a woman. Think of herself even a little? Impossible!

Never mind she could have easily used her medical training to open a larger artery, pour the blood into his mouth, and iratze herself as soon as Simon was cogent enough to be out of danger. He was already woken up enough to drink the blood she poured from her hand. No biting/venom necessary. Lmao.

Stop treating Izzy like shit just to force a romantic storyline seriously lmao

Aaaaanyway lol that was like 20000000 words but those are my thoughts if you made it to the end you deserve a trophy or smth

[jessethejoyful]

part seven, we out

final part of my art school au <3 thanks for all the love and support guys it means a lot and helps me write more

shoutout to my girl @capnhap for the support and ideas (see: rooftop snowbaz)

read it here on ao3

SIMON

Applications for the fall student showcase are posted in the middle of November, outside the main offices. I had nothing from this semester that I felt like showing, nothing that stuck out to me like the ballerina had - but it occurred to me that I’d never seen any of Baz’s artwork in any of the student shows.

When I asked him about it, he balked immediately.

“I’ve just never gotten my application in on time,” he said stiffly, not taking his eyes off the anime we were watching. We were curled up on his couch, me sketching and him trying to do anything but work on art because his hands were cramping up badly, and I had just remembered seeing the fliers that morning.

There was half a foot of space between us, which I tried to ignore. Our toes kept touching.

“Well, now you have the time,” I pressed, dropping my drawing pad to the floor and leaning toward him. He made a clear effort not to look at me. “The deadline is in two weeks.”

I watched his neck move as he swallowed. “I - I’ll think about it.” As much as I wanted to keep pressing, I could tell he was already distressed. I don’t know where we stand exactly, and I wasn't ready to push my luck just yet.

Three days later, when I stopped by his shop for some tea, I brought it up again.

“Penny put in her app for the showcase today,” I said conversationally, leaning over the counter to smile at Baz as he dunked a tea bag in steaming water. His shoulders immediately tensed, and he looked away from me. “She’s pretty nervous about it, but I told her she’d get in, no problem. Like you would.”

He spoke through clenched teeth. “That’s not - the issue.”

That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Then what is the issue, Baz?”

His lip curled, and he practically shoved my tea at me. “What could I possibly put in? I hate almost everything I make after I’m through with it. I could never put anything in with good conscience.”

I don’t think I ever realized how critical he is of his own work. I cast my mind back, to the night when we’d slept wrapped around each other, and when I woke up the next morning. The ballerina, the one I’d thought he’d sold, perched in a corner of his bedroom. The only painting in there.

“The ballerina,” I said softly, and he paused in the middle of restocking lids, hand hovering in midair. “I know you love that piece, Basil. I love that piece. You should put it in the showcase.” I grabbed my tea and smiled at him, and it felt a little sad. “I won’t try to force you. But I think it’d be amazing for you.” I left with that parting remark, and then I don’t see Baz for two days, which was weird because by that point we were spending pretty much all of our free time together.

When I do see him again, I’m sitting by myself on the roof of our apartment, wrapped up in a pile of blankets and doodling idly in my sketchbook to keep my mind off of my animation presentation the next day. I hear a clatter as the door swings open, and I emerge from my cocoon to see Baz standing over me, looking shaken.

“I put in my application,” he says with no preamble, and I smile and try to push my way up, but he just drops down in front of me, grabs my face in his gloved hands, and kisses me roughly, sweetly. I'm surprised, but not unwilling, and I grab the collar of his jacket, laughing around the kiss.

“I’m really proud of you,” I say quietly, sincerely, when we part, breathing heavily. He presses his forehead to mine and doesn't say anything.

BAZ

They send out letters to inform the showcase applicants whether or not they got in. When I get mine, I take it to Simon, because I can’t bring myself to open it. We sit down together at his kitchen table - he says Penny is with Micah, celebrating her acceptance - and he carefully tears open the envelope and pulls out the paper, his eyes moving over the lines.

“You’re in!” he says excitedly, and I try not to slump with relief. “Told you you’d get in!” I roll my eyes at him.

It was hard explaining to him why I hesitated so much. It’s not that I think I’m bad (I know I’m quite good), but it’s different to submit your artwork to someone and have them tell you whether it’s worthy to be shown to other people. He doesn’t have the same anxieties as I do, and I could never really put the feeling into words.

Simon reaches across the table and takes my hand, squeezing it and grinning at me. I squeeze back, and his grin widens.

“What do you say we go out and celebrate too? Anywhere you want to go, on me.”

I look at him, and I'm thinking hard, about that offer and everything else.

“Actually, Simon…” I begin, tilting my head at him, “could we maybe just stay here and do takeout? I don't know if I have the emotional capacity to go out right now.” He looks shocked for a moment, then absolutely beams at me, and I'm blinded by it.

“Yeah, ‘course we can,” he says quietly, lifting my knuckles to his lips and kissing them lightly.

He pushes up and by me to find a menu, and I reach out as he passes me, because I'm useless and so fucking soft for this boy. He stops and leans over me, and I hook my thumbs in the loops of his jeans and drag him to me, practically onto my lap. His hand goes to the back of my neck and deftly pulls out the band holding it back, and I laugh as my hair falls around my face. I know he likes to run his fingers through it, and he does now, and his lips press to my forehead.

I was worried I’d feel more panicked if I got accepted, but here, in this little kitchen with this beautiful boy taking care of me, and me of him, I’m not panicking. I’m grateful, for the opportunity and for the people who helped me get there.

PENNY

The showcase was brilliant, and not just because I was apart of it (though that definitely helped - the piece I put in was easily one of my best, and everyone agreed). We all went together, Micah and I, Agatha, Simon and Baz, and I was surprised Simon agreed to go, since he didn’t even when his work was in it. I suspect I know why he did this time, but I didn’t call him out on it.

It was funny watching he and Baz flit around each other, like they were nervous of brushing shoulders or touching hands, when I know that Simon spent the night with Baz a few weeks ago.

He’d come into the flat late one morning, nearly noon, and I’d assumed he’d been doing another doozy in the lab. But he was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of his feet and seeming far too awake for someone who’d supposedly been up the whole night and sporting wild hair that looked suspiciously like his bedhead.

“Hi, Simon,” I’d said, poking my head out of the kitchen door, and he spooked immediately, his eyes flashing wide. Startled, but also… guilty?

“Penny! Hi, Penny!” he said, way too chipper. I leaned against the door frame, wiping my hands on a towel, and stared at him. “Uh, how did your presentation go yesterday?”

My eyes narrowed. “It was fine. Stars across the board.”

His smile returned, but I could still see how sheepish he was underneath it. I know his facial expressions far too well.

“I’m so proud of you, Penny,” he said sincerely, and I wondered for a moment if I was just being paranoid. “You always do so well, and you’re such an inspiration to me.”

He was really laying it on thick. There was definitely something he was hiding, but then wasn’t the time to try and get it out of him. Simon is stubborn when he wants to be, he’ll just stick out his chin and not say a word, no matter how much I badger him.

“Thanks, Simon…” I lifted one of my eyebrows at him, and his grin widened to an uncomfortable size. It looked painful.

“I’m gonna go take a shower! I’ll talk to you in a bit!” And he disappeared into the bathroom. He turned up his music - he only listens to Adele when he’s in a really good mood - and I sat down at our little table, thinking hard.

That’s was when it me. He must’ve been with Basil .

I couldn’t believe he was hiding this from me. I guess I do give him shit for talking about the guy too much (“He wore a tank top today, Penny! A tank top ! I could see his shoulders !” - can you blame me for being tired of it?).

I went and hung out at Micah’s apartment the next day, and he just laughed when I complained.

“Did you ever think that maybe Simon’s embarrassed about it?” he suggested, stirring at something that smelled amazing on the stovetop. He makes us dinner every now and then, and I’m always blown away by his cooking. Thank God one of us can cook.

“Yeah, but, I know everything embarrassing about Simon! He doesn’t have any self preservation around me, he tends to just say whatever’s on his mind.”

Micah shrugged. “It’s delicate, Penn. You told me Si’s never had much of a relationship, so maybe he’s keeping quiet so he doesn’t hype himself up too much or start over-analyzing everything like you tend to stir up.”

“I do not!”

“You so do !”

I huffed out a breath, kicking at him from the chair I was in, and he laughed again.  “Fine, maybe I do, but it’s not my fault he’s picked up the habit.” My hair was feeling heavy, and I quickly tied it up on top of my head. “So he’s embarrassed. Or nervous. I guess that’s fair, but I can’t believe he’s managed to keep it quiet. He’s an awful actor.”

“Both of you do tend to wear whatever you’re feeling front and center on your faces.”

“Micah! I do not !” He looked at me over his shoulder, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Just let him come to you, babe,” he said, carrying the food over to the table and sitting across from me. “I’m sure they’re both still figuring out what they are. When Simon’s ready, he’ll know where to find you.”

I hate it when he’s right.

SIMON

It’s nearly Christmas. Finals are over, but the closer we get to the holiday, the edgier I feel about the whole thing.

Normally I go back with Agatha to her family’s obnoxiously large house, because I love her parents like they’re my own. But Agatha’s got some kind of horse competition out of town (I’ve never understood the riding, and Ag’s stopped trying to teach me), so all three of them are going to be gone and the house empty. They tried to convince me to come with them, but I always feel so out of place among their posh friends, even when I’m kitted out in my best.

I tell them I’ll probably have to work anyways. And that’s true. Now that classes have ended, I’m getting more hours at work, and I know Anna is happy to have someone to split the time with. She was working practically double overtime before they brought me on.

Penny is going home like she always does, but I can tell she feels bad about it. I keep having to reassure her, over and over again, that I really am fine spending Christmas here on my own. I’m good at being on my own.

I start spending a lot more time on the roof of the apartment. It’s not fancy - some of the other residents have put plastic chairs up there, and Penny strung up fairy lights a few months ago, and they’re still up. That’s about all that’s up there. I like to haul up a pile of blankets and cocoon myself in a corner (I run hot, but I still get cold during our winters) with my drawing pad, just doodling whatever comes to mind until it gets too dark to see my paper. Then I’ll turn the lights on and doodle some more, until I fall asleep or manage to wander back downstairs.

The roof isn’t really to avoid Penny and her guilty apologies, but it’s a nice escape. She keeps sending me these furtive glances when we’re in the flat, so I’ll gather my things quietly and head up. Plus, I like the cold. It clears my head.

Clearing my head lately has been harder. I’m glad the stress of finals is over - I did well in all of my classes, so I don’t have to spend the break feeling bad about myself. But there’s the other, boy-shaped issue I’m constantly fretting about, these days.

It was precious, watching him at the showcase. We wandered around the gallery, not touching but almost, and I saw every time he cast a nervous glance over at his own painting. He never walked us by it, and I let him lead, but he kept a close eye on it and the people looking at it. I saw the way his shoulders tightened every time someone made a comment, but they were all positive, so he didn’t have a meltdown (“Look at those colors . So emotive.” “You can practically feel her pain.”). Even if he wouldn’t admit it, I could tell he was glad to be there. And I was glad to be there, supporting him.

We’re not dating. At least, we haven’t had a conversation about it, so I guess that means we’re not dating. I don’t even know how to breach that shit. Am I supposed to just look at him and go, “So you wanna be boyfriends?”

I can’t imagine those words coming out of my mouth. Until I’m sitting beside him, watching the way his face shifts when he talks, and I think maybe I could manage saying something as embarrassing as that. For him.

It’s late when the door to the roof opens and I’m startled, trying to dig myself out of my blanket hole to see who it is. When I finally manage to pop my head out the top, the first thing I see is Baz again, squatting in front of my pile, illuminated by the fairy lights and looking at me, clearly amused. He’s bundled up, with his hair hidden under a winter aviator hat, a scarf shoved into the collar of his coat, and maroon gloves covering his nimble, beautiful fingers. It’s kind of funny paired with his joggers and what looks to be a pair of thick, woolen house socks.

“Baz,” I croak, my voice weak from disuse. I’ve barely spoken to anyone today, I’ve been up here so long. I start struggling to get out of my cocoon, and he holds a hand out to stop me.

“Don’t get up,” he says quickly, pushing upright. “Penelope told me you’d be up here with your fort…” He rubs his neck, looking uncomfortable.

I tilt my head, peering up at him. “D’you wanna join me?” He looks relieved and nods his head, a small smile playing across his face, and it hollows me out. I start unwrapping layers, and he tries to help, but I don’t think he realizes how many blankets I have, and I see his hands actually shaking with cold.

We finally manage to get down to the base layer, and he awkwardly clambers down beside me, pressing against my side, and he seems unsure of where to put his hands. I take one of them and gently pull his arm around me, and he grins with a loud breath, helping me to close us back in. All bundled like this with only our heads out, we must look absolutely ridiculous, but really no one comes up here during the winter except me. And Baz, apparently.

“I was going to ask you how you weren’t cold out here,” he whispers, his breath coming out like clouds, “but now that I’m in here, I’m shocked you’re not burning up.”

“I prefer being hot to being cold,” I whisper back, and I’m not sure why we’re being so quiet. I clear my throat and say in my normal voice, “Are you cold still?”

He shifts toward me, and at some point during our ritual his legs hand ended up tangled with me. “A little. My face mostly, since it’s out of the blankets.” I lift my eyebrows at this, and carefully extricate a hand from the folds, and cup his cheek with it.

His little intake of breath nearly kills me. “How’s that? Better?”

“You’re like a fucking furnace,” he says impishly, and I’m glad he’s not trying to be soft right now, because I might just die on the spot. “How have you not caught yourself on fire by now?” But he does tilt his face into my hand, pressing against my palm, and I think I might love him.

That thought’s been occurring to me more and more lately, as we get closer and things start to feel less unsure between us. There are lots of things I love about him, from his pretty eyelashes to his full, stupid name (Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. He told me it last week, and I managed not to laugh for a full thirty seconds, which he said was actually impressive), to the way the bridge of his nose wrinkles when he doesn’t understand what someone’s asking him.

But I also think I might just love him, full stop. He’s so fucking good.

BAZ

The look on Simon’s face, that soft, adoring look, is just about my favorite thing in the world. Maybe the whole universe. I’m glad we’re not standing, because it makes my knees weak.

He is like a furnace, and under the blankets, it’s so warm that I’m actually comfortable. My face is hot where he touches it, and I savor the feeling of his skin against mine. I let myself enjoy it, because I know that he’s mine. I can see it every time he looks at me. I don’t know if he’s figured out that I’m his, that I have been practically from the beginning of this, but that’s why I came up here. To tell him so.

Penelope figured, when she opened the door to see me.

“Simon’s on the roof,” she’d said, thumbing upward at the ceiling. I saw Micah behind her, pop up over her shoulder to wave at me, and I waved back. “His cold tolerance isn’t human.”

“Oh, right,” I half-laughed, because my heart had been pounding as I’d expected Simon to open the door, and I thought I’d confess my love to him as soon as I saw his stupid face. “Thank you.”

I turned to go, but Penny spoke again. “Oi,” she said, her hand coming out to lightly grab my upper arm. I looked at her, surprised. “Just - you’re both idiots. I want to make sure you know that. And if the two of you start messing each other around, I’m going to beat you both within an inch of your lives. Got it?”

The smirk that rose up on my face was far too good-natured. “So noted.”

Wrapped around him now, warm for once in this appalling weather, all I can think is about the promise I’d made to Agatha, and now Penelope. I would never do anything to hurt him. And I’ll keep him from hurting himself, for as long as he’ll let me.

“Oh, you came up here looking for me.” Simon’s blue eyes bore into my own grey ones. He looks almost scared. “Was there something you wanted?”

I can feel myself backing down, something wicked and black in the form of my anxiety closing a fist around my chest. I fight against it, shoving it back, and slowly drop my head to rest my forehead against his shoulder. He must be practically eating the fur from my hat, but he doesn’t say anything. His arm just comes around my shoulders as he pulls me to him, and we stay like that for a while.

The stars begin dotting into place above us, even though they’re hardly visible through the city light pollution. But I know they’re there, even if I can’t see them, and they’re comforting, considering the whirlwind of emotions I’m trying to kick down right now.

I manage to lift my head, and Simon meets my eyes again, grinning with his rosy cheeks, ruddy from the cold. “Hi,” he murmurs, bringing his thumb up to stroke across my chin. And I can’t say fuck all, so instead I tilt toward him, and he tilts toward me, and our lips fit together like it’s the most natural thing in the world for us. Which at this point, it is.

Simon whispers my name, and it sends a thrill down my spine, and I kiss him again, and again, and again, and he’s everywhere around me, he’s everything, and it sends me reeling.

It starts as a muttered admonition, and he doesn’t hear me, doesn’t react. I trail my lips up to his eyes and kiss them shut, and say it again, just a little louder. “ I love you .” He freezes under my hands, his eyes flashing open, and I don’t back down, I don’t run away, because I know what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth.

“I love you, Baz, you shit,” he says, and I snort with laughter. “You shit, I was going to tell you that! You beat me to it!”

“It’s alright, Simon, I know you’re slow on the uptake.” He growls, but he’s grinning and it’s lovely, and he pulls me roughly against him, our lips meeting again in a messy lock.

Now that we’ve said it, we can’t stop saying it. We’re muttering it, shouting it, gasping it. We whisper it to each other, giggling like children, as we escape his fort of blankets and stumble back down the stairs. Kissing and tripping over each other, we practically fall through my doorway, trying not to make enough noise to wake the whole building. Not that we’d mind, or notice, either way.

[splattershotsundae]

Ink this Thicker Than Water --- Chapter 11: I just sank your battleship

“OZ! OZ EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW!” Hachi shouted, banging her hand on the door to the bathroom.

“SIS, I’M BUSY!” Oz shouted back.

She clenched her fists. “OKAY BUT THEN YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN!” She said, then huffed and slumped against the wall. Oz was her brother, her half brother, and…. And she didn’t know what to think about that.

Eventually Oz stepped out of the bathroom, and both she and Bato gave him a harsh look. “’Ey sis.” He said, then started to walk back toward the living room.

“Oz!” She snapped, then followed on his heels. "I'd like a bit more of an explanation than that!!!"

"Well, when two people really think tha other's all tha', they-" He gave a two note whistle.

"NOT THAT PART!" She snapped, tentacles coiling up tightly.

Oz sat down next to Oana on the couch, letting out a long sigh as he sat back. "We ah... We share a father?"

"… I don’t even know my father, how do you know that?” Hachi demanded.

“Well… I… needed ta change my name, an I got ta lookin into people records, they got a whole family tree in them computers, an…” He paused for a second. “Well, I saw tha my dad ‘ad three otha daughters, an ya were one a em. Aw man, young ‘Achi was an adorable sight I’ll tell ya wha.”

Her mouth dropped open. "… YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME!?”

“Well, yah.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know ‘ow ta break it ta ya.”

“I’ve known you for probably…. YEARS!” She snapped, glancing at Bato. “Right? Years?”

“I’ve got no idea.” Bato shrugged. “You’d have to tell me how many days it’s been, and even then it’d be a spitball with how your shifts work.”

Tanya stepped into the doorway, putting a hand on the doorframe. "What's going on?"

"Apparently, Oz and Hachi have the same Dad." Bato explained.

Tanya opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking between Hachi and her new brother.

“It’s pretty entertaining.” Oana huffed in an amused fashion.

“It’s less funny when you’re the sister!” Hachi protested.

“Yah, ‘bout tha…” Oz said slowly. “Oana’s also our ‘alf sista.”

"WHAT!?!?!?" Both Hachi and her brand new sister demanded in unison.

"Oh no.” Bato began to chuckle.

"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS." Oana demanded, sitting up straight.

Leah stepped up beside Tanya. “What’s going on?”

"So... it turns out those three are siblings." Tanya said, nodding at the octolings. "Or, half-siblings rather."

“Oh yah, an ‘Achi wants ta make Bato ‘er adoptive brother while she’s at it.” Oz added.

Leah had to take a moment of stunned silence.

Hachi covered her face with her hands, her tentacles snaking around and coiling around her wrists. How had this all gone downhill so quickly? This was so much to take in… She’d gone from having no siblings to having three, and one… “Who’s the last sibling?” She asked. “Who’s my last sister?”

Oz slowly sighed. “She migh be dead now ‘Achi. It’s a very long story...”

She slumped against the wall, sliding slowly down. She couldn’t tell if she was grieving for someone she’d probably never met, or if this entire secret Oz had been keeping from her was what had made her overwhelmed, but now she was having a legitimate breakdown, her fingers trembling.

“This isn’t just something you can hide!” Oana said. “This isn’t fair!”

“Well I ain’t hidin’ it anymore!” Oz said. “This is important! Ya know more ‘bout me now than my own mom!”

“DO I WANT TO KNOW!?” Oana demanded.

Oz took a sharp breath, sounding like he was tying not to be choked up. The sound was heartbreaking, she couldn’t take this anymore. She stood up, taking her own shaky breath, and then she walked to the entryway, and slipped on her shoes.

“Hachi?” Bato asked, but he didn’t deter her as she rushed outside.

She needed to be out of there, but where could she go? She dashed into the elevator and hit the button for floor 6. Toda. She could visit him.

It was an uncomfortable wait, but soon enough the doors opened and she jogged down the hall, knocking boldly on his front door.

A few moments later, Toda answered, a confused expression on his face."Hachi?"

"I need to use your couch." She said. "Just to sit on it and figure out where everything went wrong."

He blinked. "Ah... Sure?" He said as he stepped aside to let her in. "... What happened?"

"You know Oz?" She asked, rushing in and kicking off her shoes.

"... We've... Met." He said cautiously, closing the door apprehensively.

"And you've heard of Oana..." She strode over to the couch and then flopped face-down into it with a groan. "They’re my bother and sister, and I had no idea!!!”

Toda blinked. "... Oh. Wow. Um… wow."

“What’s going on?”

Hachi paled and looked up, watching as Simon came into the room. That’s right; They’d said they were coming over to help calm Toda down… Sometimes they gave her the heebie jeebies, they were so frightening when mad. She cleared her throat, then continued. "I had no siblings and now suddenly I'm living with three of them!!! I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing!!! I need some time away and just learn what to do now!"

"Siblings?" Simon asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"Apparently!!!" She said, then blinked. “Wait, Simon, you have an annoying sister! Give me some tips!”

Simon frowned slightly. "Hey, she's my sister, only I can call her annoying behind her back!"

“Good, good, tips like that!” She said.

“Oh dear Judd.” They murmured, rubbing their forehead with one hand.

Toda suddenly frowned a bit, counting on his fingers. "Wait, who's the third sibling?"

As if on cue, there was another knock on the front door, and Toda slowly went to the front door. "Bato?"

"Hey Toda." Bato’s voice came around the corner. "I was wondering if Hachi might have come up here?"

Hachi transformed and ducked into the cushions, coiling into a ball. Oh no, not right now, she needed to talk to someone who wasn’t involved...

"Yeah, she just came in." Toda said. “I… I think she’s a bit overwhelmed right now.”

“Should… I come back later?” He asked.

“That would probably be better, yeah.” He agreed.

“… Alright.” Bato said. “Can you tell her I’ll be waiting at the elevator if she needs me?”

“Can do.” Toda agreed. “See you later bud.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The front door closed, and then Toda came back into the room. “Bato’s in the hall if you need him.”

She slowly poked out of the couch, then changed back and shook off her hands. “The couch is gross...” She said.

“Well that’s not what it’s for, so of course it’s bad.” Simon huffed.

She settled back down properly, then sighed. “Toda, a… about your question… Bato’s my third sibling.”

“What?” Toda and Simon asked at about the same time.

“I adopted him as my sibling!” She clarified. “He’s not… octoling.”

“… So that’s what you meant when you said that you felt like he was more than a friend?” Toda asked, sitting down next to her on the couch.

“… Yeah, I think so.” She agreed. “I didn’t know at the time, but...”

“Is… Bato okay with that?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yes, he seemed a bit excited at the idea… and then Oz just dropped on me that he was my brother and… I don’t even know what to say… He hid this from me for so long… He knew the entire time we’ve known each other...”

Simon leaned against the wall, looking… not the most invested in this conversation, but they spoke up anyway. “You know, it would have been pretty suspicious if he’d just gone up and claimed to be your brother, right? Or maybe he wanted to get to know you first.”

“… Maybe.” She agreed, sighing and hugging her legs.

“… Would you like to stay for dinner?” Toda asked.

“I don’t know if I should.” She admitted. “I should be home by then… Besides, what is it?”

“Spaghetti.” Toda explained “It’s noodles covered in a tomato sauce and cheese.”

“… Well I like noodles and cheese.” Hachi admitted.

“Okay, I’ll go ask my dad if you can try some.” He said, then jogged into the dining room, and then out of sight, leaving her with… Simon.

She fell silent, not really sure how to continue. Should she keep asking questions about siblings? Should she apologize for getting in the way of their visit? Should she just keep he mouth shut? Was there some Squidling custom she didn’t know about?

“So I guess you and Bato are getting along great, huh?” Simon asked.

She blinked. “Oh, um… yeah. We are.” She said. “… People don’t just decide to become siblings, do they?”

“Not really.” They admitted. “But everyone’s different or… whatever.”

She slowly nodded. “Yeah… I’m especially different, Me, Oz, and Oana, we have to be different from society up here, it’s just the way it is because we… this isn’t our world.”

“… That’s pretty glum, but damn if I don’t know the feeling.” They muttered.

She kind of frowned at that, but said nothing. She didn’t really think they actually understood in the same way, even if they did happen to have their own problems, but she didn’t want to argue right now.

Finally, Toda came out of the kitchen, a big smile on his face. “Alright, you’re good for dinner! Or… at least trying it. I have to go get my mom now and let her know food’s about done...” The smile slipped from his face a little as he looked at Simon. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay around her?”

“I came over, I’m going to commit.” They said. “Let’s do this...”

“Alright just… let me know if it’s going to be too much.” He agreed, clasping their hand for a moment before walking off down the hall.

“… I don’t really like her either.” Hachi said. “She was sort of mean to Toda last time I was here.”

“What?” They asked, straightening up and getting that scary expression on their face again. She simply looked away and did not answer, trying not to freeze up.

Soon enough Toda came back, Anita in tow. “Good evening Hachi.” She said with a touch of warmth as she came in, though her gaze was still… a bit attached to her tentacles.

“Hello Anita.” She said, without much enthusiasm.

“Anita.” Simon huffed, gaze so sharp one might expect them to beam lasers.

“… Simon.” She replied, giving a similar gaze back, with slightly less intensity.

“… So dinner?” Toda prompted, leading the way to the dining room. Hachi stood up and followed him, remembering how awful dinner was last time she was here. Not the food, just… the conversation.

“Hello Hachi.” Scott said as he came in with several plates. “Toda, can you get the spare chair out of the coat closet?”

“Can do.” He agreed, briskly backtracking again. Hachi noticed him take a quick glance at his mother before rounding the corner, which did not make her any more at ease as she sat down. He was so worried about what could happen, what if he was right to be concerned?

"... So, how is your sister?" Anita asked after a moment, gaze affixed firmly to Simon as she sat down.

"Happy to have her new phone.” They said bluntly, sitting across from her. “Though today she was as stressed as I am.”

"Are you talking about Skwidd's escape? Yes, I heard about that." Anita replied.

They didn’t reply, just edged to the side as Toda returned with a folding chair, allowing him to sit next to them. A moment after, Scott came back in carrying a large pot filled with noodles slick with a red sauce. "Spaghetti's ready!" He chirped as he set it down in the middle of the table. “Help yourself.”

“Me?” Hachi asked awkwardly.

“If you’d like.” He replied. “Here, this should be a good amount to try.” He added as he scooped a small portion onto her plate. “I put in a little bit of brown sugar for that ‘umami’ flavor.”

“What’s umami?” She asked, just barely resisting the urge to say ‘fuck’.

“It’s using sweet to bring out savory, I think.” He said, sitting down in the last open spot.

“You’re using a word when you aren’t even exactly sure what it means?” She asked a bit skeptically.

“Well sometimes that’s just my life and I’ve accepted that.” He said. “Anyway, it’s not getting any warmer, dig in!”

The spaghetti began to get passed around, and Hachi took a fork, attempting to find out how to scoop up the noodles. They were so long she couldn’t actually pick them the way she did other noodles.

"So, Simon." Scott said after moment. "How's your family doing?"

“We’re alright, aside from today, but even then me and Jill got our new phones.” Simon said.

"Good to hear." He replied with a nod and a brief grin, the one that looked so much like Toda's. "What kind of phone did you get?"

Simon finished a bite of food, then pulled their phone out of their pocket, showing off both sides. For a brief moment Hachi could make out the lockscreen as them and Toda pulled close together, but they seemed pretty eager to hide that part.

Scott nodded in an impressed fashion. "Looks like a nice one."

"Y'know, speaking of new phones..." Toda said, waggling his eyebrows in a joking fashion.

Scott laughed "I know, I know, we need to get you yours soon. I get off early on Friday, I could take you then. Sound good?"

"Works for me." Toda beamed. “Thanks dad.”

“Toda, how do you do this?” Hachi finally asked, exasperated. “How do you pick up these noodles?”

“Oh--” He said, then quickly turned to her. “You just get them between the tongs, and then twist the fork like this, see?”

She watched for a moment, then managed to scoop up a couple noodles. “Got it.” She said, then took a cautious bite, her mouth exploding with this… sort of… strange tart flavor, and then in the middle of it all a rush of sugar hit her, and she screwed her eyes shut, dropping the fork and coughing.

“… More sugar?” Scott asked after a moment.

“I’m getting the sugar!” Hachi said between coughs.

“Are you alright?” Anita asked.

Hachi took a moment to catch her breath, then pushed her chair away from the table. “This isn’t for me.”

“… Well, that’s okay.” Scott said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“… No, I… I should get home.” She said. “Mom’s probably made something for me, it’d… be a shame if it didn’t get eaten, huh?”

“Mom?” Scott seemed utterly perplexed.

“… Um… The moms, downstairs, I mean.” She said awkwardly. “And Bato’s waiting for me, why are they so considerate all the time?! Why am I such a valuable use of resources!? No, breathe, I’m… worthwhile, yeah… I’m… not a waste of space… and… they love me...” She thought for a moment about how everyone had been treating her lately, not just the mothers but Oz and Oana as well… It must have taken so much effort for him to tell her about this, and she’d just ran away. She glanced up, only to take in that everyone was staring at her. “… I’m just going to go.” She said.

“… Okay, stay safe.” Scott said, a bit… stunned.

“I will.” She replied, then turned and walked briskly out, hurrying over to the elevators where Bato was still waiting for her.

“Hey Hach--” She interrupted his greeting by wrapping her arms around him, holding him tight. “Are you doing alright?” He asked, embracing her in return.

“… Bato, you’re changing the way I think.” She said, voicing her realization as it happened. “My thought when I think about how I’m not worth it has changed to… to… no, instead of just sitting back and agreeing, thank you.”

“You’re… welcome.” He said, hesitant. “Those sort of problems take… years to go away entirely, I’m glad you’ve gotten started.”

“What do you mean me? you’re the one who did it, aren’t you?” She asked.

“No, it’s you. I’m just… helping.” He said. “It’s going to be a lot of effort and… I’m proud of you.”

She thought about this long and hard, then hugged him tighter. “Thank you. You’re a wonderful brother already.”

“… And… I couldn’t ask for a better sister.” He agreed.

After a moment she pulled away and hit the button for the elevator. “I hope I didn’t hurt Oz too much when I ran away...” She murmured.

“I’ll guess things will be okay, you’ll just have to talk this out the three of you.” Bato replied, stepping onto the elevator when it arrived.

“Right… yeah.” She agreed. “Let’s do this… let’s do this...”

“You can do it.” He encouraged.

She nodded, then strode out of the elevator as the doors opened, walking up to their apartment and knocking in a non-stop string upon their door.

"You know you don't have to knock until someone opens the door, right?" Bato asked, a smile creeping across his face.

“… But it takes so long, I don’t want you to forget.” She admitted.

“We won’t forget.” He reassured. “Promise.”

She was about to reply, only to be interrupted by some shouting on the other side of the door. “’OW DO YA UNLOCK THIS THING!?”

Bato started chuckling as the door rattled in it’s frame and the doorknob shifted back and forth. “Oz! Turn the… the little tab thing! The--”

There was a click, and then the door flung open. “’Achi! Ae ya… ya okay!? I was fuckin worried ‘bout ya and… and...”

“I’m sorry I stormed off.” She said, stepping inside and pulling him into a hug.

“Oh, ah...” He patted her shoulder, hesitantly. “Yah? It’s--”

“Thank you for trusting me. With everything. I get to know the real you now.” She added.

Oz stayed still for a long moment, then he took a shaky breath. “Well.. fuck, I get ta know tha real ya now too.”

After a moment she pulled away. "There's still food left, right?"

“Pfft, yah, we jus started eatin’.” Oz said. “Its stir fry an rice.”

“Yum!” Hachi beamed, dashing for the dining table, though she sort of lingered as she saw that Tanya and Leah wee both already seated. "Hi ah.... Moms...?"

Leah was taken aback for a moment, but only a moment. "Hi, sweetheart."

"You doing alright?" Tanya asked.

"... Yeah... It's going to take me a while to process." She admitted as she sat down. “But… I guess in a good way? This is probably going to be the best time of my life.”

Leah couldn’t hold back a soft ‘aww’, putting a hand over her hearts.

“Aw sis…!” Oz said, then pulled her into a hug again. “WE’RE GONNA TAKE ON THA WORLD!”

“Ow, Oz!” She said, beginning to giggle despite her best efforts. “You’re so loud!”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO HAVE A TOUCHING MOMENT WITHOUT ME!?” Oana’s voice came from the living room, where she had her arms crossed.

“GET OVA ‘ERE SIS!” Oz beamed, opening his arms, and after a moment he embraced her, such a huge grin on his face. In retrospect, he’d never seemed this happy back in the domes… never. Hachi rested her chin on her palm as she watched, smiling softly.

Had they ever been genuinely happy before?  It was so hard to know for sure, what was there to be happy about in the domes? These changes were so much for the better. She felt so warm inside.

That warmth vanished as loud knocking sounded from the front door. “I’ll get it.” Tanya said with a sigh, standing and vanishing around the corner.

The room fell deathly silent as the front door opened, and abruptly harsh words began in a barrage. "Stop the making of noise! For most of a month it has lasted!!

“Oh, I'm so sorry... Our friends are having a bit of trouble settling in.”

Hachi gave Oz and Oana a bit of a look as she heard this, and the two of them just gripped each other tighter.

"Trouble does not mean shoutings at 24 hours!!! I come home, want to relax. Noise instead!!!" The complaints continued. "One more time this begin happening, the building will know!"

"Of course." Tanya replied, anxiety rich in her tone. A moment more and the door close, and she came back to the dining room, clasping her hands in an uncomfortable fashion. “… So… we need to quiet down some.”

“… ‘Ow much?” Oz whispered.

“Not quite that much.” Tanya reassured. “But… this could be bad. If the building comes over to investigate the complaint, they’re going to find this inked carpet and the broken window… which frankly I’m surprised they haven’t already noticed.”

Oz went pale, clutching Oana tighter.

“What’s going to happen then?” Hachi asked.

“Well… we’re going to be charged for the repairs… and then there’s a chance we could be evicted.” Leah said, grimly.

“What!?” Oana demanded, strain obvious on her face as she tried to keep her voice down. “Without you even being fired!?”

“That’s not how it works up here.” Hachi said. “We could end up… without a home?”

“Well, we’re going to avoid that if at all possible.” Tanya said.

“We’ve known that… well, it might be possible they’d kick us out if they found this out, we just haven’t looked into any you apartments yet, we were looking into new windows instead.” Leah said. “We’ll start looking soon, it’ll be alright.”

“Fuck, this is all my fault.” Oz said. “I’m so loud, an I attacked this place an got it all fucked up--”

“No no, shh… it’s alright.” Leah said, reaching over and gently taking his hand. “We’ve been over this. It’s alright.”

“It ain’t alrigh!” Oz insisted. “I didn’t know ya could be witout a ‘ome even if ya ‘ad a job!”

Hachi sighed. “… Just as soon as I was talking about how these are ‘great times’ and ‘I feel really at home’”

“Don’t worry about this, kids.” Tanya reassured. “We’ve got this, we’re not in trouble yet, we just have to be quieter, especially at night.”

Silence fell as they overcompensated their volume, and likewise their appetites lowered to match. Worry began to sink in with Hachi as she thought about how everything she cared about was threatening to strip away, even Bato; he had a mission that night, what if he didn’t come home? Her fingers trembled until she couldn’t take it anymore, turning to face him. “Bato, can we talk? In your room?”

He blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Hachi lead the way and made sure the door was locked before she began to explain her thoughts. “Bato, I’m so worried, we’re not prepared for this at all; your mission.” She made sure the clarify before he spoke. “What do we do if something bad happens? If you’re hurt?”

“I have my phone, I can--” He began.

“She smacks you on the back of the head, what now?” Hachi asked. “You’re unconscious.”

“Well… I… ah...” He sighed. “I know, this is risky, but we need information on Onella, and if I can capture Orvokki while I’m at it, it’ll be such an important victory.”

She frowned, tentacles coiling around each other. “… Do we still have some masks from Oz’s attack?

He pointed toward his closet. “I put them on the top shelf, what’re you planning?”

“I can hack it, make sure the cloak works, and then I can know where you are, and you can message me if something goes wrong.” She explained. "It's the best I can do until I make you your own."

Bato considered it for a moment, then nodded slowly. “That’s a good plan, I think it would be a big help. Let me get them down.”

“Thank you.” She said, peering into the box he’d brought down. “I remember there being a model X5 in here, that should be perfect for the job.”

“I’ll ask what that means some other night.” Bato chuckled. “I don’t have the brain power right now.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled, finding the mask she was looking for. “When are you planning on leaving?

“Well, the trains and buses are going to be done way before midnight, so I’m going to have to… maybe walk there, which could take… an hour, hour and a half?” Bato admitted. “I’ll leave at 10, then I should be able to make it.”

Hachi nodded to herself as she sat down at Bato’s makeshift desk. Somehow having a solid time he was going to leave made her even more frightened of what could happen. “… Can you tell me good bye before you leave?” She asked. She’d have offered to go with him… but she was home base, she was going to watch his signal like a sniper and if anything went wrong, she would jump to the rescue. He would be fine.

“I’ll let you know when I leave.” He reassured, putting a hand on her shoulder. “And I’ll be careful.”

“… Okay.” She said, holding his hand for a moment before getting to work.

“I’m going to go finish my dinner.” He said. “I’ll want to be full on energy for tonight.”

She nodded, but didn’t look up, mind swirling with the worry she had. Once Bato had left, she took a deep breath, and tried to focus on work; This had to be perfect, his life could depend on it.

Bato, Toda, Leah, Tanya, Scott and Anita are Knitter’s characters.

Hachi, Oz, Oana and Simon are Shuckle’s characters.

Splatoon belongs to Nintendo.

Please consider liking or reblogging if you enjoyed, it’s nice to know we’re doing things right.

Shuckle has a patreon if you would like to provide additional support!

[<PREV] [INDEX] [NEXT>] (coming soon)