#in case anyone doubted that simon was “good” and not just out to make money and exploit people

[anchorandrope]

ABOLISH SIMON COWELL AND SAVE BOYBANDERS

[vonev]

Zombie apocalypse with Simon Riley

Sum: You finally meet your hot neighbor; albeit all it took was an apocalyptic disaster.

Oh my God, what the fuck?

“—reports states that an infectious zombie-like virus has begun to spread amongst multiple areas in the city—”

“—Please seek the nearest hazard shelter in your local area—”

A fucking zombie virus breakout is happening, in front of your lunch.

You'd never thought the national emergency alarms would ever blare during your lifespan, but you're here, a spoon full of egg drop soup in hand sitting across your TV and your mouth hung open as all your devices deafens the entire living room.

The telenovela you were watching was just getting so good too.

Immediately shooting your hand out to fetch your phone, scrambling for the national notification, horror dawns on you.

The fucking breakout is in my city.

Isn't it so lovely? On a random Tuesday afternoon in the middle of an approaching autumn.

What is it that they do in those zombie shows again...? Oh yeah, run.

Wait—no, no. Pack your shit then run.

So you did. Your feet working the fastest they've ever been scattering toward your bedroom to dig out the ancient duffel bag you've not touched in eons. Shoving essentials in there: tampons, pads, your Kindle (because God forbid an apocalypse stops you from finishing a book) and a couple of other things you think you'd need...a thong is one of them, right?

The loud alarms never stops, it only adds to your increasing anxiety threatening to bubble over and spill all over the floor; you didn't think they'd go on for so long, but they do, and honestly they sound fucking terrifying.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think—

Wallet, passport (in case you wanted to fly over to Milan, you know.), all the money you had was stored inside the bank; speaking of, you wonder if anyone had started robbing stores yet after the alarms sounded.

Nope, can't think about that right now, because the more time you waste, the higher of a chance you'd end up having your face bitten off by some freaks—zombie or not. So you scramble once again, head full of doubts and worry; good thing you kept refraining yourself from ever getting a pet because holy shit having to sprint with a massive fluff ball in your arm would be the last thing you'd want to do.

Just then, screams started filling your ears; an indication that you spent too much time dwindling.

Looking down you scoff at your casual wear: a tank top that exposed too much and sweatpants. Making your way out along your bedroom you snatched a jacket you promised yourself you'd wash last week.

Good thing you didn't, I guess.

Stepping foot into the living room once more, your eyes dart around in a hurry, practically running into the kitchenette to grab canned foods and your leftovers from yesterday. It's just a sandwich, but it'll hopefully last until whenever you can finally eat again. You repeated the same conundrum with your bathroom, frantically pushing things aside with more things to make space for other things.

Alright, you think, that should be everything...

You even got that first-aid kit you bought from Amazon months ago, thinking that someday you'll need it.

Always trust your instincts.

With that, you waste no time scurrying to the front door, fitting yourself into a comfortable pair of shoes then fetching your keys from the bowl above the accent table you probably spent too much money on (they looked really cute) and inserting it into the lock, cursing yourself when you kept missing the keyhole. Eventually, you got it, and with too much brute force, you threw the door open and stepped out into the hall.

You wince from the loud banging sound of the door you pushed; to your right, your neighbor's door opens as you walk out.

Tilting your head, you see the neighbor casually fixing his shoes with absolutely no care regarding the current situation, a bag slung over his broad shoulder in contrast to you desperately holding onto your heavy duffel bag.

What the fuck is his deal? How is he so...calm?

You didn't realize it 'till now, but said neighbor turns his head toward you, and it's as if a lightbulb flare up in your head.

Oh.

He stares at you, unmoving with his hand still on the doorknob.

It's the hot neighbor.

What was his name again? Sam...Samuel...no, Semen...wait, definitely not.

Whatever. You'll call him Semen in your head, because you can't be bothered standing there to recall his name. Not while he's staring at you so intently, either—like you owed him something.

God, is he a sight to look at; full brows with lips looking so kissable with a cute pout, blonde strands covers his front as though he'd just woken up from the best nap of his life, the faint yet noticeable scars littered across his face so perfectly. Tall, mysterious and muscles that threatened the seams of the too-tight shirt he wore. Is he even aware? 

And his eyes.

You can't even begin to mention the amount of times you'd shamefully indulged yourself with those eyes of his in your mind—sometimes, you dream of them too. Who could blame you though? Yeah, you definitely feel normal about him. You barely interacted with him, only ever seeing him the rare times he'd come home. You assumed he's ex-military or a military personnel on leave since he's been back home more than usual in the recent months. You wouldn't know, though, considering the most words you said to him was "hi" when he moved into his flat a year ago. That, and you're generally kinda afraid of strangers.

"D'ya have a staring problem?"

Right. You can't just stare at someone and not say anything, that's creepy.

"No," you shuffle on your feet a little. "Do you?"

He scoffs with a small shake of his head and closes the door behind him before walking away to the lift. Your brows furrowed, lips pursed, slung your duffel bag over your shoulder and chased after him. You both stood in front of the lift for a good (incredibly awkward) minute before the familiar ding sounded. Once inside the lift, you can't help but feel the unspoken tension rise as the two of you stood close to each other.

You swear he had his eyes on you for a moment, but you don't dare to call him out.

"...you come ‘round often?"

He snaps his gaze to you instantly.

Great. Your mouth has no filter whatsoever. Mentally slapping yourself, you open your mouth to whisper an apology; he beats you to it, though, a soft chuckle from him and it strikes into your heart like a stake.

"I live—lived here," crossing his arms, his eyes softened a little. "Just got discharged from the military a couple of months ago."

Bingo.

Silently patting your back in your head as you nod at his response and humming. "That's cool, what did you do for the military?" it may have been too much to pry, but it doesn't hurt; plus, it's pretty much the end of the world as you speak.

He stood there, completely rigid from top to bottom. The silence was deafening this time around, so much so that when the lift sounded once more with a loud ding, it made you flinch.

"What didn't I do for the military?"

That's...

"...is that rhetorical?" None of you walked out of the lift, just standing there in each other’s company. Oddly, you don’t mind it.

He shrugs, getting out of the tiny space—and you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in your breath when you finally exhaled through your teeth.

I guess I have my answer.

It doesn’t take long for you to catch up, nor for the two of you to realize what an utter mess the outside world had become when he opens the door.

People roamed about, running ‘round and tripping over each other and on top of each other, cooperating on wreaking absolute havoc on the streets. Lots of screaming, too much of it, in fact. Jogging down the stairs, someone almost bumps into your side, but not before he pulls them back with a frown on his face that had the poor guy screeching and scrambling away from his grip.

Oh, now come to think of it—

—“Hey what’s your n—“

A hoard of groans catches your attention, cutting your words short; you turn toward the source, squinting at the scene from afar. A group of people started dashing toward your way, their faces an evident blur of confusion, surprise and horror. It would make sense, because as they slowly get closer and closer, a giant figure gradually appears in your vision—and it looks fucking disfigured—like the textbook embodiment of an eldritch creature. Sure enough, it breaks out into a sprint, chasing down its next victim; pulling the back of an unfortunate businessman’s suit and it flung the man over its head. You can hear the poor man’s scream echo in your mind as you watch his body fall right into the creature’s mouth; next thing you know, his head snaps off in its jaw.

Your blood runs cold, the shock from seeing such a sight sends an unnerving terror through every nerve; your breathing gets heavier, beads of sweat breaking out from your skin—yet you can’t take your eyes off of it. Ever watched a car crash? Yeah, exactly that.

“Uh oh.”

You don’t know what to do; years and years of medical training in school hadn’t exactly prepared you for this situation, even if some of the things you’ve seen are horror beyond comprehension. Your body doesn’t cooperate with your commands no matter how hard you try; they’re stuck to the ground like glue, and as the horrid looking creature slowly bolts toward your way, the way you’ve become a mere spectator to your body should concern you, but your eyes are transfixed on that thing—

—it wasn’t until someone roughly tug your forearm that you realized you almost fucking killed yourself by standing still too long.

“Fuck, come on, let’s go.”

You should’ve probably questioned why he’s remained so calm despite the calamity surrounding him. It’s an admirable trait, really, a part of you wants to thank him profusely for not leaving you behind; in the span of time you spaced out, he could’ve easily gotten away in a fleet—like a gust of the wind, and you wouldn’t have noticed nor would you have blamed him. So much for being medically trained. 

He ran, and you trailed right behind him. Even during such a dire moment of your life, you have to try your hardest to not get distracted with the way his muscles contract as he swiftly moves along with the breeze. No time for thirsting, you stare at his arms, how they effortlessly flex with each step, Okay, maybe a little bit of thirsting.

You’ve no idea how long you both ran; doing your best to dodge every obstacle lunged into your face, but with the soreness slowly creeping up your soles, you wonder if you could keep up—Semen, on the other hand, is doing just fine. Just keep pushing, after all, how hard is it to run forever? Super fucking hard apparently; unfortunate for you, the conveniently placed fallen pipe on the ground became your nemesis as you missed a jump and fall on your fucking face. Your duffel bag cushioning only your left arm, body absorbing all the impact from the fall.

Ouch! wouldn’t even describe the pain you were feeling. You might have a broken nose because it sure fucking feels like it. 

Semen immediately halts, his head snaps back as if his gut instinct told him you stumbled and fell. He’d be correct; attempting to get on your elbows can only get you so far, your adrenaline runs out too quickly—and suddenly it feels as though your body has been lit on fire. Well, you’re being dramatic, but your ankle sure doesn’t feel fine like it did a minute ago. You try to stand up, and Semen crouches down in front of you with his hands extending out to help you up; but the harder he pulls the worse you cry out. When you try to move your right ankle it just fucking hurts like a bitch. 

This is it, you think; your breath coming out haggard and harsh, I’m gonna fucking die. 

“Just—go, just go, I think I sprained my ankle,” holding back furious tears, you sniffle. “Leave me and run, it’s okay.” God, was it ever this hard to let someone go? Even if the selfish part of you wants him to stay. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, people and vehicles running by your bodies and their cries fill the void in your head—not their fault they prioritize their lives over yours—but it still stings your eyes to think about. People really do show their true colors in the most desperate times.

He reaches over, and you almost swatted his arms away—his stern gaze told you to stop, and you did.

Flipping you over in an instant, his arms hook under your back and knees, hoisting you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. In a feat of panic, you push against his chest; you can’t stress how much you’d rather not be the reason he’s held back and be killed for it. He sends you a final warning look; a stare so chilling it had you reeling back your arms into your chest and obediently lay against his.  

Impressively, he maneuvers around everyone else with ease, dodging and zig-zagging, only bumping a few shoulders here and there. Worry clouds your head; what if he trips? Or better yet, what if he realized you’re not much of use and dumped you on the streets? It’s absurd you’d even have the luxury to overthink while he’s busting his ass to save both of your lifes—how the fuck are you supposed to make up to that? You can’t bake him your infamous croissants (you’ve mastered the craft), you doubt appliances are as convenient in the wild as it is in homes—you hope he’ll find a place to hide soon; he can’t run infinitely. 

Maybe you should stop thinking too much useless shit and start strategizing instead.

Okay, it should be easy; your eyes frantically search the surrounding area: the alleyway? No, way too risky. Run into one of the homes? Still risky, and those nasty creatures were breaking into them from what you saw last. Fuck, you wish you’d bought that expensive ass car few weeks ago when it was on sale, then again, who knew you would require it so soon? Wait, did he have a car? You don’t think so, his designated parking slot has been empty since forever.

As he kept sprinting on, you noticed more and more of those zombies started pouring in from multiple angles—it would be harder and harder to avoid their attacks; you try not to dwell on the gruesome sights of people being mauled down the streets. Out of nowhere, a mangled arm lunged at you, though he swerved just in time to avoid; you didn’t even have time to register what occurred until you blinked again. 

“Was that—holy fuck,” your body involuntarily shivers at how close you were to dying right then; all his efforts would’ve gone to waste. It served as a reminder that death is now only a mere hand reach; one wrong breath and say bye-bye to your life. 

Mortality is such a fragile thing.

At least you don’t have a family making you worry to death about, just good ol’ you—always been you.

Does he? Eyes drifting over to his face, you trace the scars on his neck with an invisible hand. You’d have to play 21 questions with him later, if there’s a later. Seeing how things are moving, you’re slowly coming to terms with the concept of death; for some odd reason, you just know he’d keep you alive as long as he can—you will too, with him. God, you grunt, this feels so sappy. You have to constantly remind yourself that you’ve known your neighbor properly for less than an hour; don’t get too attached. It only ever comes back to bite your ass.

In your peripheral you notice a sluggish zombie digging into the driver’s side of a sizable car through the broken window—blood splatters the inside of the car’s windshield as the zombie dives further in. The car is alive, tugging at his shirt, you hastily gesture toward the spot with a shaky finger. Peering up, you don’t miss the way his brows knit together and how his lips are pulled into a thin line—he understood soon afterward; and switched his path to match the direction of the vehicle. 

He’d have to fight with the obscene thing for it, but it’s worth a try, even with you in his arms.

Approaching it, he doesn’t hesitate to kick a leg up to hook it under the weighted zombie and throw him down to the biting asphalt; just as it was about to spring up—he stomps a leg over its head without a hitch. Oh my fucking God, excuse your blasphemy, that’s the brain matter. You would know how a human’s brain looked; with countless hours spent plastering your head onto your textbook about How To Surgically Remove a Brain for Dummies the image practically tattooed itself on your mind. It’s never a good view, the textbooks can’t accurately reinvent the feeling of disgusting sliminess into their pages after all. 

Your knight in shining armor doesn’t prolong his luck; throwing the driver’s door open, he ducked his head into the driver’s seat (not before chucking the dead body laid in the seat out), sliding you into the passenger side; you have to awkwardly make fit for yourself in the seat as he rushed into his side and pressed down on the brake, slamming his door closed. There was no time to relax, though, upon seeing him toy with the car, people started piling over the trunk, clawing at the metal slate with their bloodied nails as more zombies lurked closer—few unlucky numbers were dragged away from the car, leaving a myriad of gory handprints behind on the trunk. 

He grits his teeth, he holds an arm out in front of you; confused, you turned to him as he slammed down on the acceleration. 

“Oof—” That’ll knock the wind out of you.

It’s proven to be challenging for him to drive down a road filled with civilians; but soon enough, people started parting ways for him and a few other vehicles to pass through, afraid of being hit by a car. 

“Buckle up, love.”

Huh? Love? 

On the outside, you’re as calm and cool as you can be: you know, in a zombie apocalypse with your handsome neighbor driving you to (hopefully) safety; the inside…it feels as though your heart soared into the sky—you know it wasn’t meant to be flirtatious, but damn it, a girl can dream. Scrambling your hands to reach for the seatbelt, you grimaced at the sight of gooey matter dotting its material, you buckled up anyway; better safe than sorry. And because he asked so nicely, your heart flutters once more.

He drove on for quite a while, managing to duck and swerve others on the road (albeit with a lot of trouble) and eventually reaching the highways—not that it was far, but you’ve never exactly drove, or been outside your little area. Why would you need to? Everything you’d ever need was there: a delicious shawarma shop across from your flat, embroidery store…in case you needed some embroidering done, a family-owned Indian restaurant that served the best naan and dal—point is, you’ve pretty much got everything covered in your small area.

But why do you feel like you’re missing something…

…your fucking duffel bag. 

Everything was in there—your ID’s, necessities, your fucking family photo back when you were a baby; it all holds importance to you one way or another—

—and they’re gone.

Slumped against your seat, you hadn’t even realized your shoulders started convulsing until teardrops fell on your curled fists in your lap. How could you be so fucking careless? Tilting your head down, your hands fly up to rub away stray tears that can’t seem to stop falling from your eyes regardless of your effort; you hope he hasn’t noticed (he did, eyes squinting in worry and unsure) because you seem pretty fucking pathetic right now. 

(He doesn’t mind, he’s more worried your tears will drown the both of you before getting to the motel)

“We’re,” for some reason, words get caught in his throat—congealed, like an immovable lump—watching you silently sob to yourself from the side. "We're going to a motel."

He shouldn’t care; he doesn’t know why he does, especially since you’re still a stranger (that he saved, again, he’s not sure why) he coincidentally shared a hallway with for about a year; he barely knew you, either, only knowing you by name because he had seen it stamped on a few mails that fell from your mailbox. He also knows that you bake, a lot, often times the smell would traverse through the small cracks underneath his door and reach his senses—he’d debate knocking on your door each time, he wouldn’t know what to say though: “I smelled your baking, they smell amazing, can I take the whole thing?” or “‘Aye you’re actually kinda fuckin’ cute.” 

Yeah, he’s not too good at conversing with strangers either, especially a cute one like you.

And now that you’re sitting right next to him, shoulders no longer heaving as he keeps driving down the vast highway, he’s not so sure what the next move should be. A couple of quick glances let him know that somewhere along the way, you had fallen asleep, head lolled against the window, your chest rising and falling with a silent rhythm. The sun is setting, the warm glow casts down on your figure—you look like an angel.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course—but deep down, he knows he’ll keep that image of you and engrave it into the back of his head.

And he knows just the place to take you to.

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 2

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I'm outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I've missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly.  -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I'm using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what's said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn't matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

It’s time to take a close look at Episode 3, The Runaway Room!

Episode 3: The Runaway Room.

We're skipping the first two cases, as they have no relevance to Barok van Zieks, and starting off here.

So Ryu is tossed into the deep. The Lord Chief Justice tells him that he’s basically the defendant’s only hope; if he doesn’t at least try to fight in court, McGilded will lose the trial and die for sure. (HAH… Good one, Stronghart.) So Ryu falls for this would-be motivational speech and heads for the courthouse where he finds out why McGilded doesn’t have a defense attorney to begin with; it’s because of the prosecution. No one dares to go up against Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the Reaper of the Old Bailey, because all who he prosecutes are damned. This should sound familiar to anyone who’s played an Ace Attorney game before. ‘The prosecution has never been defeated before’ is the implication, which would initially lead us to believe Van Zieks is another one of those prodigies. Sure enough, Susato points out he must be very talented, to which McGilded replies that Van Zieks is not talented, rather, he’s cursed. This sets the mood even further. With words like “Reaper” and “curse” being tossed around, we’re sooner reminded of a prosecutor like Simon Blackquill, who was a convicted murderer wielding psychological manipulation techniques. Either way, with the grim atmosphere set, Ryu is ushered into the courtroom before he can ask any more questions.

As a sidenote, McGilded really scored some negative points with this remark:

Feels a bit softened compared to how fan translations tackled that line, but a nasty jab all the same.

So anyway, entering the courtroom we get our first look at Van Zieks and if the foreshadowing in the Defendant Antechamber wasn’t already bad enough, he honors his eerie reputation.

So far, he’s meeting the requirements then. He’s intimidating and as a wealthy white man, he’s perfectly juxtaposed to Ryu, the rookie from another country. Meanwhile, the first micro-aggression of this trial is actually uttered by the judge:

Which also makes narrative sense. Ryu’s more practical goal isn’t to win the prosecution’s trust. Heck, he could get through any trial just fine with Van Zieks’s dislike. No, what he needs is to win over the judge and the members of the jury. For them to also hold prejudice but put that aside in order to side with the truth is another important end-game here. So let’s continue. Van Zieks also has something to say here:

Initially, the remark about Ryu’s eyes might read as a typical racist jab towards someone from the East, but he is in fact referring to the way Ryu’s eyes are ‘swimming’ when he’s nervous, as evidenced by the next lines. “They shroud your fear, your doubt, your trepidation… They run wild, clinging to some phantom notion of courage.” Van Zieks is saying that while Ryu puts up a brave front, his swimming eyes betray just how nervous and unsure of his cause he really is. So really, he’s targeting the fact that Ryu is new to the courts. He did, however, make a point of tossing the word “Nipponese” in there when he didn’t need to, drawing attention to Ryu’s race in a derogatory fashion.

After the jurors are introduced, something else of interest happens. The judge points out that Van Zieks hasn’t been seen in the courtroom in a number of years. The judge had assumed that Van Zieks had renounced his fame, to which he replies with the following:

This is a very telling line. We learn several things. Firstly, Van Zieks had retired, and secondly, he doesn’t seem to think too highly of his title of Reaper. If he did, he would have gloated. To describe his reputation as infamy implies negative associations with this ‘curse’ that McGilded spoke of. Putting these two things together, one might conclude he retired because of this curse. When asked why he’s returned to the courts, he says that he’ll leave that to the judge’s imagination. So there’s hints of a backstory already being tossed in before the trial’s even properly kicked off.

Which it does now. So the opening statement happens as always and witnesses are brought in, but once it’s done Ryu interjects to say that he doesn’t understand the circumstances. ‘How could the witnesses have seen the inside of a moving carriage’? It shocks the entire courtroom and Van Zieks is the one to speak:

“-But you’re here in London yourself. Are you really so ignorant about our omnibuses? Tell me, my Nipponese friend… Have you even travelled in an omnibus?”

I have to be honest, I struggled to pinpoint just how I felt about these remarks. Sure, I can overanalyze this, looking at how the words “I’d read-” imply he doesn’t know the following sentiment to be true and therefore doesn’t feel confident enough to say something like “I knew-”... But it doesn’t change that he’s being scummy here. In a roundabout way, he’s still saying Japan is far less civilised than Britain and that Ryu is extra ignorant for not knowing about omnibuses when he’s in London. So basically, he gets scumbag points for this. But then there’s…:

Which is just a basic jab at Ryu’s intelligence. It’s the sort of remark we’d get from every single prosecutor. I think even Klavier would say this sort of line with a smile on his face.

But definitely more scumbag points here, because this was a direct attack in more ways than one. Particularly the word “stray” was uncalled for. CEO of Racism, indeed. Something very interesting happens when the knife gets pulled into the story halfway into the first cross-examination, though. When Ryu asks about it, Van Zieks replies with this:

He’s… actually being civil? (I doublechecked with Scarlet Study, and they are in agreement on the timid nature of this line, translating “yes, Counsel” as “Quite so”.) Instead, Van Zieks turns his attention to the fact that there’s an M on the sheath, directing all his offensive attitude towards McGilded. It gets even more curious when the last juror refuses to cast a guilty verdict, instead talking about what a good man she believes McGilded to be. Van Zieks says:

So he’s not only frustrated with McGilded now, he’s frustrated with the people of London for not knowing what sort of person McGilded really is. Van Zieks reveals he’s a dirty money lender who gained his fortune through corrupt means. He even takes the time to inform Ryu of this with the words “Your client is a shylock, sir!” Edit: I feel a need to address this: shylock is a word with antisemitic roots. It originally came from a Shakespeare play involving a very bad stereotype. It later evolved to have a more broad meaning basically synonymous to loan shark and I think that’s the context the localization means to use it in. There’s absolutely no indication of McGilded’s religious beliefs and even if there were, I highly doubt the localization would use that sort of slur. Still, it’s a very unfortunate choice of words and is sure to accidentally sour Van Zieks even more with some players.

With that, the last juror votes, the scale tips towards Guilty and Van Zieks assumes the trial to be over. He thanks the jurors for their work. Unfortunately, once Susato brings up the Summation Examination, Van Zieks gets very frustrated again. This happens:

IIII don’t know what to do with this line. On first glance, I didn’t think much of it and was even willing to consider it was a compliment. Then I thought it must’ve been passive aggressive somehow; that it’s the sort of thing he wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. A friend directed me to the notion that it might be referencing a stereotype that ‘Eastern women are fierce’ because they were associated with, well, certain ‘paid services’. I don’t think I need to explain, I’m sure you understand what I mean. And if indeed that’s what Barok is insinuating, that’s a new low I never thought he’d reach. However, when you’ve finished the games and know that Barok was friends with a married Japanese man, it’s entirely possible that he’s remembering a story once told to him by Genshin Asogi. So this is either a bittersweet reminiscence or the most scumbag association he ever could’ve made, but I’m not sure we can ever prove which it is. Edit: As another option, it’s possible he’s referring to the Yamato Nadeshiko stereotype, if indeed it already held the ‘touch of iron’ aspect to it back in 1900. He proceeds to toast his hallowed chalice to “the enigmatic East” and to be honest, I’ve once again got nothing. All I know is that he once again drew attention to the defense’s race when he didn’t need to, so… Scumbag point. As a sidenote, in regards to the wine… I don’t count this as a humanizing trait. The same applies to the leg slam. These are animations meant to add some more lighthearted air and breathe more life into Van Zieks, so he doesn’t just stand there like a statue. They’re just quirks meant to have him stand out from other characters. So yeah, fun as the wine and leg slam animations are, they don’t count in the redemption requirements. Anyway, Van Zieks mocks the age of Susato’s book, saying that judging by its bindings it must be fifty years old. Considering the context of the conversation, this isn’t out of bounds. The defense is using ‘outdated’ information on the law, so he points that out. Any prosecutor would’ve done it like this. Simon Blackquill likely would’ve offered to shred that outdated tome to bits for Susato. Van Zieks does toss in a “Hmph, typical Nipponese” later though, which earns him one more scumbag point. Van Zieks continues to dismiss the Summation Examination, but the judge overrules him and allows it. Law is law, after all! And this is what I meant in my previous post when I said it’s satisfying to see Ryu use actual British law against Van Zieks. Ryu is using a perfectly legitimate technique to win the jurors over, and as Susato tells him, he can only do it by turning the jurors against one another with facts. He can’t appeal to them, he can only have them see sense. Which is difficult, because some jurors are more prejudiced than others:

… Yeah. Uh. Calling Ryu a “Dark Jinx” is pretty awful. Scumbag points for Juror No. 1! Meanwhile, Juror No. 4 keeps us updated on Barok’s actions throughout this trial:

Wow. Typical prosecutor behavior, though. Regardless, Ryu manages to win them all over in the end. With enough of the scales set back to not-guilty, the trial is allowed to continue, which leads to this:

Bye, hallowed chalice. A fun animation to keep things fresh and show us that the trial is about to take a turn. Once again, nothing new. We’ve seen prosecutors lose their patience before. What does interest me, though, is that Barok doesn’t direct physical frustration towards the defense. Remember: Franziska snaps a whip at Phoenix, Godot throws coffee at his head, Blackquill sends a hawk to attack the defense or uses that aijutsu slicing move, Nahyuta throws restricting beads… These were all direct physical attacks. Van Zieks, much like Edgeworth and Klavier, directs his frustration more inward and as a result he destroys his own property.

He succeeds in intimidating Ryu, though. Van Zieks explains that he kept silent, as is the norm during Examination Summation, but makes it clear that he considers it a charade all the same.

Van Zieks has been a pretty good gentleman towards the jury up until now, speaking to them politely despite that one remark about having their head in the clouds. Now that he’s seeing them ‘buy into Ryu’s stories’, as one might describe it, he’s getting frustrated with them. Maybe he’s even frustrated they’re choosing the defense’s side over his own.

He removes his cloak, entering what he says to be the next round of their ‘battle’. More typical prosecutor behavior, this. I’m not sure there’s an underlying thought to this, other than to indicate to the audience that ‘things have gotten serious’. When the next bit of testimony is going on, I noticed something odd. Both Fairplay and Furst testify to having seen blood on McGilded’s hands, to which Van Zieks says:

“... Reported that there was no trace of blood on Mr. McGilded’s gloved hands.” So in a way, by establishing this fact, he’s helping the defense and going against what the witnesses are saying. It doesn’t help the prosecution in any way at all.

The trial continues on, with Van Zieks uttering things like “My Nipponese friend” and “my learned friend from the East” and lord knows what else… I suppose to soften the harshness of the original wording a bit and make Van Zieks just a bit less dislikable? Edit: Tumblr user @beevean​ has pointed out that “my learned friend” is an actual term used in courts of law. There’s a tradition (also employed in British courts of law) that when addressing either the court or the judge, a barrister refers to the opposing counsel using the respectful term, "my learned friend". Of course, it can be said with an air of passive aggression and pretending to be respectful to the court while shamelessly disrespecting it is something Barok has always done, so the addition of “my learned friend” to the localization text is amazingly in-character. Then of course we have:

This is both a scumbag remark and foreshadowing. Naturally, those playing the game for the first time won’t recognize it as the latter and therefore take it as nothing more than a harsh blow. Things spiral even further out of control when he starts talking about how people who claim the island nations of the Far East have a learning and culture of their own use those terms ill-advisedly. He also uses the words “artless backwater” and really, this is the low point of the trial right here when it comes to prejudice. Van Zieks is just plain lashing out with these sort of jabs.

Eventually, McGilded is dragged onto the witness stand to testify about whether or not there was another passenger aboard the omnibus. McGilded admits that there was, and Van Zieks snaps at him some more for using convenient excuses. Ryu is forgotten here for a moment. The whole smoke bomb thing happens, Van Zieks confers with McGilded and Gina in his own chambers, then the trial resumes. McGilded testifies, then Gina testifies… The jury votes not-guilty, buying into McGilded’s story about protecting a poor young pickpocket and Van Zieks loses it. He slams his heel down on the bench, pointing out that this is why he doesn’t like the jury system; because emotions are ruling where evidence and facts ought to be paramount. He points out while the cubbyhole Gina had been hiding in was empty now, it had been full of the coachman’s belongings during the police investigation. Someone tampered with the omnibus. This is where things get interesting, because Van Zieks addresses Ryu:

He’s giving Ryu the benefit of the doubt here. He’s offering an option for Ryu to be truthful about this matter. And that’s curious, because any defense attorney would naturally say what’s best for his client- or so it’s assumed. It puts Ryu in a difficult position for sure, but for some reason Van Zieks put the question forward anyway. The game responds as follows:

For the sake of argument, I attempted all three options. So when Ryu says he didn’t look, Van Zieks says: “Hm… Perhaps I credited you with too much intelligence.”

So when feigning ignorance, Van Zieks is kind of a scumbag about it. He is correct in his expectation that any attorney worth his badge would thoroughly examine the details of the evidence, but he didn’t need to be such a jerk about it. Now, when outright lying and saying it was empty, Van Zieks instead says:

The lines are very similar, which is an interesting note. It adds a feel of these responses being 'rehearsed', in a way. Just a default for him to fall back to. But the real kicker comes when Ryu tells the truth and says it wasn’t empty. Van Zieks is actually speechless at first with no more than a “...!” Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Ryu to respond like this. Everyone in court is baffled, McGilded gets angry… Van Zieks is a bit rattled now.

“Your task is to defend the man in the stand. Why would you say something to compromise his position?”

So really, it seems as if Van Zieks had only ever offered the question to Ryu with pessimistic intentions. He too had assumed there was only one answer the defense could give and was prepared for just that with his silly little wine analogies, only to be shocked when Ryu defies his expectations. Ryu confesses that he’s not entirely sure on where he stands in the matter, to which Van Zieks replies with “... Interesting.” 

So now the jury members are doubting themselves again, with some offering guilty verdicts. Van Zieks decides to honor the ‘Scales of Justice’ once more now that they’re back in his favor, like the hypocrite he is. Gina testifies, Ryu points out an inconsistency, Van Zieks takes that opportunity to turn the tables back in his favor by implying Gina is a liar… He passive aggressively thanks Ryu for saving him considerable trouble and whatnot with some more “my learned Nipponese friend” remarks in there… Ryu turns the tables once more by insisting the victim came into the omnibus through the skylight, Van Zieks demands evidence and points out that furthermore, if indeed such a thing had happened, the witnesses on the roof would’ve seen it. McGilded hops into the conversation to imply that the witnesses themselves were the killers, which sends the court into a frenzy. Both Van Zieks and the judge shift the responsibility of the accusation towards Ryu, even though he never said a word to directly accuse the witnesses. Kind of a douchey move. Barok even states that Ryu’s ‘command of the English tongue must be wanting’, since

Yeahhh, that's pretty unfair. McGilded was the one who dropped that implication. However, since the judge basically accuses Ryu of the same thing, it’s a narrative choice to warn Ryu he needs to anticipate where his reasoning will lead him. Fairplay and Furst testify, pandemonium ensues. McGilded eventually gets what he wants when it’s revealed the skylight can open and there’s blood in there. Van Zieks once again turns his attention to McGilded:

He knows McGilded is at the root of all this tomfoolery and evidence manipulation. McGilded is the real enemy here, in Van Zieks’s eyes. The conversation shows this by having Van Zieks point out that he’s well aware of McGilded’s involvement in dubious matters and that evidence is often ‘adapted’ to suit this guy’s stories. And now, once again, he turns his attention to Ryu. Once again, he’s giving the defense the benefit of the doubt:

The game gives you the illusion of choice here. If you choose to say it’s ‘out of the question’ that the evidence was tampered with, Ryu will refuse to say it out loud. If you say it’s entirely possible, Ryu will admit to that.

This is probably baffling to Van Zieks. It would’ve been so easy for Ryu to insist the tampering couldn’t have happened, but he doesn’t. The game won’t even let him. No matter what you choose, Van Zieks is clued in on the fact that Ryu doesn’t condone the deceit that McGilded is resorting to. But it gets even better, because a short time later, we get:

Another option to either draw attention to forgery, or to feign ignorance. Once again, I chose both options for argument’s sake, but having Ryu say he has no idea doesn’t get us anywhere. Susato will instead object to say it for him. With “I have an inkling”, Ryu says it himself. Van Zieks once again confesses, in his own words, that he’s caught off guard.

Ryu clarifies that he thinks the blood stain inside the omnibus is decisive evidence, but he can’t say for certain whether it’s genuine. McGilded loses it and by this point, is outright branding Van Zieks an enemy. Since the player at this point doesn't know whether McGilded is guilty or not, it leaves Van Zieks in a bit of narrative limbo. One might think: 'if the prosecutor is so intent on taking down a murderer, shouldn't we be on his side? Is he perhaps not as bad as he seems?' Unfortunately, McGilded points out that recollection and memories don’t matter, only evidence does. And… Well.

Which means they can’t rule on a guilty verdict and will have to let McGilded go. Van Zieks admits that he has no more witnesses or evidence to present. He’s out of options. As a formality, the judge asks the defense’s closing statement and we get one last option. Do we believe him to be guilty or not-guilty? When claiming he’s innocent, Van Zieks says:

It seems he means “abject” in the sense of “without pride/respect/dignity for oneself”, which… You know, is fair. By this point it’s very clear that McGilded is guilty, and since Ryu has already admitted that the evidence may be forged, insisting otherwise is indeed pretty spineless. Scumbag points to Van Zieks for continuing to draw attention to the fact that Ryu is from Japan, though.

Let’s instead just admit that we can’t say for certain McGilded is innocent. Unfortunately, we don’t see Van Zieks react to this, which is a bummer because this could’ve been very telling. The judge questions Ryu’s sanity (no joke) and McGilded laughs because it doesn’t matter; it was just a formality anyway. The judge scolds Van Zieks, saying that his case was flawed and it was his job to keep the evidence secure. Instead of objecting, Van Zieks just outright takes the blame for this and apologizes. Very interesting reaction, here. He stops pointing the finger to McGilded, he doesn’t attempt to accuse anyone else… He just admits his performance was flawed. Ryu tries to interject here:

(A badly-timed screenshot if I’ve ever seen one.) Ryu is making an attempt here to defend Van Zieks, the guy who has built up like 20 scumbag points by now. Ryu sincerely doesn’t hold a grudge against him. That’s very interesting. It doesn’t matter, though. The judge won’t hear of it, Ryu thinks it’s unfair, Van Zieks warns McGilded that this isn’t over and then we get the not-guilty verdict.

Hurray??? Profit??? It’s a victory that’s bound to leave the player feeling conflicted and jarred.

But after all’s said and done, we get one last cutscene to establish just how ominous Van Zieks really is. The omnibus is on fire, someone is inside and we know McGilded went into the courtroom earlier to investigate the omnibus in question. So really, by putting two and two together we can already guess what’s going on here. Van Zieks approaches the scene and watches silently.

It’s a good reminder to us that every defendant he prosecutes is ‘damned’ and he’s called the Reaper for a reason. Really puts the finishing touch on the eerie undertones of his character.

All in all, a pretty typical first time against a new prosecutor. Now I just want to draw attention to the fact that the first time we face Van Zieks in court… he’s actually on the right side of the courtroom and Ryu is not. Van Zieks presumably specifically returned to the court after those five years to target McGilded, as he knows about this guy’s shady reputation when it comes to ‘adapting’ evidence. Barok is 'cursed' in such a way that every defendant he faces is damned. So long as he stands as the prosecutor, McGilded can’t get away with his crimes. No matter how much forgery is done, the Reaper will go after McGilded and it seems Van Zieks was banking on this happening.

He likely also expected Ryu to have been bought off by McGilded; to say whatever’s convenient for his case. Turns out, Ryu is actually a man of integrity who’s invested in the truth and near the end of the trial, Barok has seen evidence of this. So what will happen next? We’ll have to play The Clouded Kokoro and find out! Stay tuned!

[sour--disposition]

Home

This is based off that tweet that JJ made back before Christmas, I couldn't get this idea out of my head once it made its way in there, so here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

Warnings: None, just fluff

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

One of the only good things to come out of 2020 for you was JJ. There was no labels on things yet as it was still early days for the two of you, but you were starting to think that JJ might be it for you. Which is why, as soon as you saw his tweet about the year taking its toll on him, you got worried. JJ was the type to bottle all of his emotions in, not letting anyone see beyond his walls even when it was for his benefit.

You fired a text off to Simon, asking if he was home, as you started packing a few things into a bag to take with you to the apartment. A chime from your phone and a quick read of the notification screen let you know that no, Simon wasn't in and he was at Talia’s. Once your bag was packed, you grabbed your keys, locked the door to your apartment, and took off towards the Uber you had ordered to take you to JJ’s.

Simon: i didnt lock the door on my way out, doubt he’s thought to

Simon: look after him for me

You weren't even surprised at Simon’s message, you and JJ weren't a well kept secret at all around the other Sidemen and you weren't a secret at all when it came to Simon.

Me: Thanks, give talia a kiss for me xx

You thanked the driver as he pulled up outside of the towering building that housed Simon and JJ’s apartment. Stepping out into the cold that a winter evening in London brought was never fun, but you hardly noticed the harsh winds as you made a beeline for the main doors and then to the lift up to JJ’s floor.

You knocked once and then twice, both times with no answer even though you could hear the sounds of JJ rummaging around in the apartment faintly through the door. The handle opened easily in your grasp and you walked into the entryway of the apartment. “Jide?”, you called out into the dimly lit space.

JJ popped his head around the wall that hid him from your view, a surprised look gracing his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”, he asked, coming towards you to take your bag off of you and help you out of your coat.

“You weren’t replying to my messages and I saw that tweet. I was worried about you”, you admitted, a small flush creeping over your cheeks. His look of confusion was replaced with a soft smile, quickly followed by a look of guilt.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, I didn't even realise I wasn't replying. I’m just in a weird headspace right now I think”, he told you, jutting his head to instruct you to follow him. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here, you know”, he said shyly, voice low.

“I know”, you told him simply, making your way over to the kitchen to make two cups of tea. “I’m not here because I think I have to be, JJ. I’m here because I want to be, because I want to be here for you”, you stressed.

JJ stood in the middle of the living room looking dumbfounded, like he couldn’t believe that you’d cancel whatever plans you did or didn’t have for the night just to come and make sure he was okay, all because of a stupid tweet he’d posted.

“The tweet was stupid, anyway. I guess I thought people would get where I was coming from, but the replies make it clear that I’m just being a selfish arsehole. I mean - They’re right, of course they are. I shouldn’t be complaining at all, about anyth-”. You cut his rambling short by reaching your hand up to cup his jaw, letting your thumb dance gently underneath his bottom lip.

“Hey”, you cooed to him softly. “Just because - what, you have money? That means you aren't allowed to feel defeated, put down? Absolutely not. I’m proud of you for saying what a lot of people in the exact same position as you aren't saying because they don’t want the comments you’re receiving either. You are allowed to be tired of being strong, Jide. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, no matter who you are”, you said to him. Your hand had shifted slightly, holding his neck more than his jaw, when his larger hand came up to cover your own.

JJ opened his mouth once, twice, three times, shutting it each time after he struggled to find the words he wanted to say to you. If you looked closely enough in the soft light of the room, his eyes had glossed over ever so slightly. “I know”, you assured him.

You took the hand that wasn't holding the mug of tea and guided him to his room. You placed both his and your mugs on the respective bedside tables before returning your attention to JJ. He was stood where you’d left him, still looking lost, like he was searching his brain for words to say or movements to make.

You walked up to him slowly, reaching out to grasp the hem of his t-shirt and begin to help him manoeuvre it over his head, dropping it onto the duvet for you to change into later. You then moved to his sweats, loosening the drawstring around his waist before guiding them down his legs. Only once you’d pushed him gently onto the bed did you start to undress yourself, pulling yourself out of your jeans and top and bra and sliding JJ’s top over your head.

You joined him in his bed, immediately gathering him up into your arms. His head pillowed on your stomach as he wrapped his arms and legs around yours, completely entangling himself with you. The material of his t-shirt you were wearing rippled softly with every breath he let out.

“I’m scared”, JJ breathed out into the dark of the room.

“Why?”, you asked him simply, hand coming up to run over his hair, occasionally letting your thumb drop down and skim the soft skin on his cheek.

“We’ve - We’re-”, he stumbled, trying to find the right words. You didn’t alter your motions, hoping that was enough to reassure him that he didn't have to rush to find his words. A few moments later, he spoke up again. “We haven’t been whatever we are for very long and I already don’t want to imagine my life without you in it”, he whispered, the hand resting on your hip squeezing lightly as if he needed to make sure you were still there, still with him.

“Nothing is going to push me out of your life, Jide. I don’t want to know what my world would be like without you in it”, you told him. As soon as you finished speaking, you felt a small wet spot on your stomach, just below your navel.

“Sorry”, he murmured, unwrapping an arm from around you to scrape at his under-eyes.

“Come up here”, you told him quietly. Once he had rearranged himself to face you a little better, you took his hand in yours and brought it up to your face to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Look at me, I need you to know I’m being serious”, you whispered into the small space between your faces.

Once his dark, watery eyes met yours, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you loved him. This strong, guarded man was letting you see his most vulnerable side, trusting you with the knowledge that he’s human too, he struggles too, he needs people, too.

“I love you”, you whispered softly. “I know that whatever we are is whatever it is, but I love you, JJ. With my whole heart, so much that it terrifies me because I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore. You’re my shelter on a rainy day, the arms I come home to when I’m cold and empty, the lighthouse I seek out when I’m lost. You don’t deserve to feel like you are right now, you deserve nothing but the absolute world. But when you do feel lost or low or tired of being someone so strong for so long, I’ll be here. I’ll be here to make you tea and steal your shirt and hold you close and wipe your tears. You don’t have to do any of this alone, never again, because I will always be right here. For as long as you’ll have me”.

Tears were slowly making their way down your cheeks, pooling and soaking into the fabric of the pillow case below your face. JJ tears had restarted, wet tracks slowly heading for his pillowcase, too. He reached his hand out, cupping your face and letting his thumb softly swipe the tears off of your cheek.

“I love you, too, Y/N. I can’t do this without you, any of it. I need you to come home to me, you make the worst days bearable and the best days even better”, he whispered, eyes boring into yours. “Come here”, he murmured, already wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. His lips immediately met your forehead, pressing a long, tender kiss there, before he leant his head down ever so slightly so his lips could meet yours.

“Go to sleep”, you told him, eyes already fluttering closed as you tucked your face into his neck, pressing soft kisses on his skin and you got comfortable. “I’ll still be here in the morning”, you whispered, your words muffled by the heat of his neck and the slur of your tiredness.

JJ let his eyes close, holding you close in his arms, and let himself drift off to sleep with the sound of your soft breathing.

[quicksilversquared]

More than a Match

Felix Graham de Vanily is back in Paris for the summer, determined to make amends with his cousin. While standing in for Adrien at a photoshoot, he has to deal with a most disagreeable character by the name of Lila.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. There can only be one winner here, and Felix is not about to lose.

links in the reblog

Felix Graham de Vanily was more than a little apprehensive about returning to Paris for his mom's summer movie shoot, and for good reason.

The last time that he was in the city, he had caused no small amount of chaos. He had threatened his relationship with Adrien over a (in retrospect) petty, poorly-considered attempt at revenge- how badly their friendship had been damaged really remained to be seen- and gotten off on the wrong foot with all of Adrien's friends, which could make finding people to hang out with more than a little difficult. During that same revenge attempt, he had truly behaved poorly towards one of the city's superheroes, and he would have to try to apologize for it if he could get close to the superheroes again without endangering his life. On top of that, he had palmed his uncle's ring, which- well, was it really stealing when Mr. Agreste had gotten them through less-than-honest means in the first place?- with the full expectation that it would be at least a year before he and his mom returned to Paris, so his uncle might have simmered down by then.

It hadn't been anywhere near a full year yet. His uncle would no doubt still be furious about the retrieval of the ring, and so Felix had to be very careful with it.

Right now, that meant wearing the ring on a strong chain around his neck, hidden under his shirt. If he was going to be spending more than the odd minute here or there in the Agreste mansion, he and his mom might end up looking into getting a safe box for them to lock the ring up in, so that his uncle wouldn't steal it back.

"Don't let on that you're nervous," his mom coached as their train pulled into the Paris stop. "Be confident, don't react to questions about the rings. With a little luck, perhaps your uncle will assume that he misplaced it. Emilie always said that he would mess with his ring when he was designing and she was worried that he'd end up taking it off and misplacing it for good. He's already called me once demanding the ring back and I told him that we didn't have it and maybe he had just lost it."

Which meant that Felix could just act bored about the accusation instead of being surprised. That was useful information.

"I also got us an apartment that's a bit further outside of the city center," his mom continued after a moment. "Both to stay out of the way of the majority of the akuma attacks, and to give us some space from your uncle. We're near a subway line, though, so it'll be easy enough to go and visit."

Felix nodded. His mom had already mentioned that, and he knew that there was a third reason, too: apartments of a decent size close to the city center were expensive. Their family might be wealthy, but (largely due to his father's influence, Felix suspected) they still had never be people to throw money around without due consideration first. "But Uncle Gabriel won't bother to come out and bug us?"

"Of course not. When was the last time that he left that house of his? And if he does- well, I have no problems with kicking up a legal stink. Gabriel would do well to remember that the only reason he has connections to the Mayor's family is because of Emilie and I, so he has no advantage there." Amelie sniffed. "Not that he'll bother to remember that. If anyone asks him, I'm sure he would say that he worked himself up from nothing and made all of his connections himself with his superior bargaining skills."

"Ah, yes, the scowling and yelling and refusing to meet in person is very persuasive, I had forgotten."

Amelie laughed. "Yes, exactly. Emilie was the one who handled more of the PR and meetings with investors, really. If Gabriel had been trying to do it himself, he would have failed miserably." She shrugged, turning back to him with a large smile. "Don't let your uncle ruin your summer, Felix. He roars and rages a lot, but he's always been all bark and no bite."

Felix nodded, taking a steadying breath as the train came to a complete stop and they got up, reaching for their bags. "Right. Of course."

Somehow, he got the impression that that would be easier said than done.

  Really, it- it wasn't as terrible as Felix had thought. The summer had started out slowly- he had seen Adrien at dinner shortly after arriving in Paris, and then Felix had spent a week and a half entertaining himself while his mom started filming on the movie and his cousin finished up his school year.

It wasn't bad, really. He found a small bookstore that was cool and quiet, and he settled down there in a corner to read. It was nice and it was peaceful.

Alas, it was not to last. His mom expected that he would go hang out with Adrien, and so... Felix did. The first three times that he went over, the two of them simply hung out in Adrien's room for part of the day and played some of the video games that Adrien had around. His cousin seemed on high alert at first- Felix certainly noticed fewer things lying around his room, and there were several things with locks on them that hadn't had locks before- but willing enough to try again. By day three, their conversations were far more relaxed, and Adrien spent nearly an hour telling Felix about all of his friends. He wasn't bragging about having them, Felix could tell, but was just genuinely happy to have them and wanted to share that with him.

...unfortunately, Felix knew that it was more likely than not that a large number of Adrien's friends would not be very thrilled to meet him. He had not made a particularly good first impression, to say the least, and they- unlike Adrien- had not had any other interactions with him to go by. Felix didn't resent them for their judgement of him (after all, he rather deserved it, he could admit that much) but it would make meeting them a bit awkward, particularly if Adrien hadn't had a chance to mention how things were going now first.

Or if Felix hadn't done anything obvious to make amends for his earlier behavior. Thankfully, an opportunity to both put off the inevitable meeting and to make things up to Adrien properly practically fell in his lap after Nathalie scheduled a photoshoot right when Adrien was hoping to get together with his friends.

Or, rather, when Adrien had put a meet-up with his friends on his schedule and Nathalie deleted it last-minute to replace it with yet another photoshoot, because apparently she didn't know the meaning of fun. Or being nice, or kindness, or not being a terrible human being, really.

"Are- are you sure that you want to model, Felix? It's not exactly the most fun thing in the world."

Felix nodded resolutely, glancing towards his cousin's door and hoping that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. "You want to be with your friends, and I would like to make a good impression this time around before meeting them anyway. It's no big deal. I can sit and make clothes look good for an hour or two."

At last, Adrien nodded in agreement. "I- okay, if you're sure. I'll text you the time and location, so you have it, and-"

"Won't your bodyguard be expecting to drive you there?"

Adrien paused. "...oh. Oh, yeah."

Felix tried not to sigh. Oh, yes was right. Clearly logistics weren't his cousin's strongest point.

"Well, I can ask him to bring me there early, so that I can have some time to relax in the park!" Adrien said after a moment's thought. "And then we can meet and swap outfits there- or I'll bring an extra, actually, it'll be less hassle. It'll be harder for me to get to Marinette's place from there, but I'll manage it. There's a bus line nearby that'll get me close enough."

"Your father actually lets you out enough for you to know how to take the bus?" Felix inquired, unable to help feeling a little incredulous. His cousin hadn't been allowed to walk to his collège, which was only a few mere blocks away, so he had assumed that his uncle had required use of the chauffeured car for all of his other travel. "Count me impressed."

A quick grin flashed across Adrien's face. "He doesn't let me out, exactly. I tend to sneak out. And then, of course, I need to know how to get where I'm going fast, or else I'll get picked up by the Gorilla right away before I have a proper chance of escape."

...that was just sad.

"Anyway, I should probably coach you if we're actually going to do this. You know, give you some pointers and all. Uh." Adrien twisted his ring around, glancing up at the ceiling as though that was going to help him any. "Um."

Felix rolled his eyes. "I hardly think that I'll need extensive coaching to be able to sit in front of a camera and pose."

"Yes, but-"

"Will I need to know several dozen poses to do in rapid-fire succession? I've heard that some models do that."

Adrien sighed. "No, Simon prefers to take more organic shots. I've been learning the fast poses on my own, in case I ever get a photographer who needs that or if I end up branching out and start modeling for catalogues instead of just ads, but Father prefers Simon's artistic vision. So he'll tell you what he wants in general, then give tweaks. Like, there's some moving my head around, maybe, but..." He trailed off, shrugging.

Well. If Felix actually needed any advice to pass off as Adrien during the photoshoot, he was pretty certain that he would be more or less out of luck. With advice like that, it would be a wonder if he wasn't left completely unprepared when he arrived.

"I've not had, like, professional training as a model or anything," Adrien added after a moment. "It's all been informal, which is maybe a bit unusual considering what father's like the rest of the time, but maybe it's good for publicity somehow or something." He shrugged, looking remarkably unbothered by the prospect of his father basing his decision on how to treat Adrien during photoshoots on what would sell best. "So just listen to Simon and don't forget to look towards the camera unless he tells you otherwise, and don't be too stiff but don't slouch, either, and-"

Felix tried not to sigh.

  "If- if Lila's there, just- ugh. Just don't agree to anything she says, and- well, she still tries to lie to me all the time, even though I know better than to trust anything she says. She loves manipulating people, so..."

Adrien's comment about his sometimes-coworker- probably the most intriguing and useful part of his "advice" for the photoshoot once he actually managed to think of something to say- ran through Felix's head as he arrived at the site for the photoshoot, a lovely little park in a less busy part of the city. This Lila character sounded like trouble, and he wasn't much interested in trouble. Or in being manipulated, for that matter.

How very fortunate, then, that Felix had more than a little experience with manipulation. He would be able to spot any attempts coming from a mile away. From what Felix could gather, this Lila person was a sloppy manipulator at best, relying on flashy stories and crocodile tears to keep her influence. They were things that would perhaps work in the short term but would wear off and become ineffective in the long run, particularly once people started picking up on inconsistencies. Eventually, things would backfire on her, and then she would be left alone and hated.

Felix preferred more subtle manipulation, and (unless he was not thinking clearly) only when a situation warranted it. A little nudge here and there to increase the odds of things going his way was rather different than Lila's graceless shoves to make everything go her way, to get the kind of popularity that Lila clearly wanted. His technique was sustainable- after all, infrequent manipulations were less likely to be picked up on- while hers was not.

His cousin hadn't really said much about Lila other than to mention that she might be there and to not fall for her lies, but Felix already disliked her.

"Felix! You got here all right, good!"

Felix pushed away his thoughts and smiled as Adrien ran up. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, presumably with an identical outfit to the one that he was wearing. "Yes, I've had sufficient down time to figure out the system. It wasn't hard to puzzle out."

"Oh, great." Adrien glanced around, clearly making sure that he wasn't being followed, and then passed his bag off to Felix after pulling a smaller bag out from inside of it. "I have an identical outfit in here. Are you good, or...?"

"I'll be fine," Felix assured him. "Go on, go hang out with your friends." He paused and considered Adrien. "Ah, are you going to wear a disguise or something? You know, in case anyone takes pictures of you and posts them?"

Adrien nodded, pulling- surprise, surprise- a baseball hat and a large pair of sunglasses out of his bag. "Yeah, this will work fine! There's plenty of guys in France with blond hair, so as long as my hair isn't visible and they can't see all of my face..."

Felix hoped, for Adrien's sake, that that actually somehow worked and he didn't run into any of his more fanatical fans. Maybe the most basic of disguises would work against most of the population, but there were a few weirdos who probably prided themselves on being able to identify his cousin with the smallest of clues.

"Anyway, hopefully it'll work," Adrien finished after a moment's pause. He glanced back at Felix. "Are you sure you're good?"

"Positive. Go."

Adrien went. Felix watched him for a minute, then made a beeline for the public restrooms building that he had seen earlier. He hated the idea of changing in it, truth be told, but he hardly had a choice.

...well, maybe he could have coordinated outfits with Adrien yesterday and only had to fiddle with his hairstyle at the park instead, but hindsight was 20/20.

Despite Felix's worries, the bathrooms weren't bad at all. He changed quickly and did a fast brushing of his hair into Adrien's hairstyle- it was a little difficult to account for the difference in their hair length in a few places, but he managed it well enough- before leaving the restroom and tracking down the plaza where the photoshoot would be taking place. It was a fairly basic set-up, honestly- a small trailer with the outfits to be worn in it, an equally small tent for changing, a couple chairs for touch-ups to makeup and hair with a screen nearby to block the wind. A few things for lighting and the photography equipment were scattered around, but otherwise it was incredibly minimal.

He had to wonder what normal shoots- ones that weren't solely for the boss's son- looked like. Surely not everything that Gabriel did was so low-budget.

"Ah, Adrien, you're on time- early, even!" A man with a camera hanging around his neck- Simon, Felix assumed- appeared behind him, clapping him on the shoulder and making Felix startle. He chuckled. "That's a nice change from the past couple shoots, hmm?"

Felix only nodded, not sure what to say. In all honesty, he hadn't been expecting the photoshoot's staff to be talking to him much, other than to issue directions for the shoot itself. If he had known that they were likely to be chatty, he would have asked Adrien more questions.

Thankfully, Simon seemed willing enough to move on, immediately turning to the job at hand. The first outfit that "Adrien" was supposed to wear was already in the tent, so if he could just go ahead and change so that they could get started...

Felix was more than willing to comply. The sooner they started, then maybe the sooner they would finish. And while Felix didn't exactly have anything else that he wanted to do- hanging out at his cousin's house while Adrien wasn't there didn't sound like fun, nor was he particularly interested in crashing Adrien's friends' get-together- it was hot outside and changing into a dozen different outfits in quick succession and getting poked and prodded at wasn't Felix's idea of a good time.

Three outfits in, and Felix noticed a girl lingering around the edges of the photoshoot area. She wasn't getting shooed off by security, which meant that it was incredibly likely that she was meant to be there. And sure enough, a minute later, the girl headed into the second half of the changing tent.

That must be the Lila that Adrien had warned him about. Felix had rather hoped that he would get lucky and not have to deal with the liar, but apparently luck wasn't on his side today.

Or was it? Felix gave that a minute's thought. He had been a bit bored thus far, and doing a bit of manipulative sparring might be just the thing to spice up his afternoon. Little Miss Terror wouldn't be expecting it- after all, Felix didn't doubt that Adrien's approach to Lila was rather on the tepid side- and it might be amusing to throw her off her game. Going too far might alert her to the fact that he wasn't actually Adrien, though, and she might tattle, so that added another level of complexity, another thing to think about.

He was so busy trying to figure out how strong he would want to come off that he completely missed Lila snaking up behind him until thin arms slid around him in an entirely unexpected (and unwelcome) hug.

"Adrien! I'm so happy that we get to work together again!" Lila cooed, leaning forward to try to press a kiss to Felix's cheek. She missed when he dodged, just enough to get out of her path but not so far that it would look obvious. Lila pouted, but didn't make more of a fuss. "Aren't you?"

"Mmhmm," Felix murmured noncommittally, disengaging himself from Lila's groping hold smoothly to step away and move into the next pose that Simon had wanted. Lila was forced to back off for the remainder of Felix's solo shots, and then he could escape into the tent to change while she did a few solo shots of her own.

And then came the duo shots, aka the absolute longest forty-five minutes of Felix's life.

(Well. Okay, maybe there had been some other instances when time had stretched out far longer, but as far as normal everyday situations went- well, then this ranked waaay up there.)

Things had gone smoothly when Felix was on his own. Despite never having done photoshoots before- or at least clothing photoshoots, he had posed for a few family portraits over the year- he had gotten the hang of it right away. He followed Simon's instructions with little need for further correction, and the photographer had been beaming.

With Lila added to the mix, though? All of that was completely shot. She was completely unprofessional, and quite handsy to boot. Felix managed to get away from her hands most of the time, dodging where he could and stepping smoothly away to make it look natural, but it was absolutely aggravating.

Thankfully, he got a bit of a reprieve when he loudly complained that she had wrinkled the sleeve of the light coat that he was modeling with her vice grip on his arm and she got scolded.

Unfortunately, that reprieve only lasted for five minutes before she was right back at it. She didn't hold on nearly as tight as before when he had longer sleeves on, sure, but other than that there was no real change. If anything, she was brushing her hands over his shoulders and arms more often than before.

Needless to say, by the time the last picture of the last set of clothes had been snapped, Felix was more than eager to be done, change back to his- well, Adrien's- normal clothes, and be rid of the Italian pest for good.

But Lila clearly had other ideas.

"Oh, I think we could pose for a few more minutes, don't you, Adrien?" Lila purred, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Felix could see where her fake eyelashes were starting to come detached. Clearly she had no idea how to apply them correctly, considering that they had been crooked to start with. "Maybe some, ah, closer poses? Oh! I know! Summer romance always sells, right?"

Felix raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Slick, she was not. Her attempts at manipulation couldn't be any more heavy-handed. Or more distasteful. "I'll pass on that, thanks."

Lila's pout grew. "You don't want to? I think it would be fun! I thought that we were friends." The last word was bitten out with a bit of an edge to it, an unspoken threat. Felix had no idea what it was meant to be.

Forget his cousin coaching him about modeling, clearly Felix had needed more insider info on how to interact with Adrien's friends and classmates.

"It is far too hot outside to be close to anyone," Felix countered tartly, refusing to let himself pause in the conversation. "We have a number of photos already. I see no need to risk heat stroke for more. Additionally, this is a clothes company, not a manufacturer of cheap romance novels, and there was nothing about summer romance in the shoot briefings."

Lila's eyes narrowed. Felix refused to back down.

"Adrien is right," Simon said, glancing over his notes. "And if the shoot goes much longer, we'll go into overtime, and Mr. Agreste hates that. It costs the company money, you know. So we're done for the day. Thank you for your work."

Felix murmured a quick thank-you in return. Lila looked as though she had maybe swallowed a lemon. Before she could recover and come up with a new ploy, Felix turned and strode off to the changing tent to switch back into Adrien's normal outfit as fast as he could.

He made sure to keep a suspicious eye out for any unusual ripples in the fabric of the tent. Felix didn't trust Lila to not try to sneak a peek of him changing. She seemed to have a complete lack of respect for normal boundaries and more than a slight fixation on him (or, rather, his cousin), so Felix wouldn't put it past her to try to look or even snap a picture.

A picture would probably be the more appealing option to Lila, if he was reading her right. Properly hidden so that no one else would discover that she had it, it would make valuable blackmail to get Adrien to play along with her little games.

One final change later, Felix exited the tent to see Lila talking with Nathalie. From the look of it, she had been the one to approach Nathalie rather than the other way around- after all, Nathalie had been standing in the same spot for most of the shoot- and she seemed to be trying to persuade Nathalie of something. And- odder yet- Nathalie actually seemed to be listening.

Felix frowned at that. Nathalie actually listening to someone who wasn't her boss? That was unusual, not to mention incredibly suspicious- and so was the entire inclusion of Lila in the Gabriel photoshoots, honestly. Why would Nathalie- and by natural extension, Mr. Agreste- want to bother working with someone like Lila? She was hardly a talented model. Even though she had had more experience with photoshoots than Felix had, and it was Felix's first time modeling to boot, she had needed more direction (and redirection) than he had. She rarely did exactly as the photographer asked, particularly with several shots alongside "Adrien". She preferred making her poses more flirty and having her hands on "Adrien" whenever she could, even arguing with the photographer about the poses he wanted. Lila was hardly any great beauty, either, and her atrocious hairstyle wasn't doing her any favors. And she was hardly rich or famous to start with, despite what she reportedly liked claiming.

Surely Mr. Agreste and Nathalie wouldn't fall for her lies. Maybe they weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, but they had enough experience to navigate what his father had always referred to as shark-infested waters of the business world. They should be able to pick up on the lies and manipulation without a problem.

...so why was she here? What was Mr. Agreste getting out of their arrangement? Besides higher bills from photoshoot staff because of Lila holding things up, of course.

Felix didn't like this. Not at all.

Nathalie finally nodded, making a note on her tablet, and then she and Lila parted ways. Felix glanced away at once- he didn't want to appear to be inviting her over, after all, he had already had more than enough of her for the day- but he could see her making a beeline for him regardless. Felix deliberately stepped away, headed for Adrien's bodyguard. He would very much prefer to go back to the house now, but Lila was faster.

Faster, and had very sharp nails.

"Surely you weren't about to run off without saying good-bye?" Lila crooned, her voice so sickly sweet that it nearly made Felix gag. "How rude."

"If you put holes in this shirt with your nails, my father will hear about it," Felix warned her instead of replying with a cutting comment about how hypocritical it was of her to call anyone rude. Lila only scoffed and tightened her hold, ignoring his words just as he had ignored hers.

"I feel like you're forgetting about our arrangement, Adrien." Lila's voice had dropped to a hiss. "Or do you want everyone to turn on Marinette, hmm? Think about it."

She didn't give him a chance to respond before giving his arm another painful squeeze and flouncing away, trailing her fingers across his chest as she went. It was probably just as well that she left, really, because Felix really wasn't sure what to say about that.

What kind of arrangement his cousin had with that wretched girl, Felix didn't know, but he didn't doubt that it was neither a good one nor a smart one. Considering that it apparently involved threats against one of Adrien's friends- the friend Adrien had gushed about the most over the past couple of days, coincidentally- there really was no way that it could be a good arrangement.

He brought it up with his mom that night, bringing up the fact that Adrien had thought to warn him about Lila and her lies, but he hadn't mentioned the harassment- the sexual harassment, really, considering the fact that Lila had tried to kiss him and rub her hands all over his chest- that was clearly normal for her interactions with him. That seemed like a rather important thing to mention, and the fact that he hadn't...

"Adrien's probably been raised not to raise a fuss," his mom said once she was done ranting and raving about shameless harlots and the adults who enabled them. "Or- you mentioned some sort of deal. Adrien might have decided the best way to protect his other friend was by just tolerating this monster, because no one's taught him better."

Felix blinked. He had heard his mom criticize her sister before, but not since her disappearance. It was a bit strange to hear, honestly, no matter how the indirect the criticism was, but he wasn't going to point it out.

"Emilie wouldn't want someone harassing Adrien," Amelie said after a minute of angry muttering under her breath. "I'm sure she would have taught him about exceptions to the whole politeness rule after he started attending school and running into less savory people. And she would want me to step in now." Her fingers started tapping against the table, an angry staccato as she thought. After a couple minutes, she spun to face Felix with an eager clap of her hands.

Felix, who was more than used to this sort of behavior by now and who had resumed eating his dinner while she thought, merely raised an eyebrow and set his fork back down on his plate neatly.

"You said that Adrien has regular photoshoots with this girl, correct?" Amelie asked eagerly. Felix nodded at once, raising an eyebrow at how hopeful his mom sounded.

"Yeah. And he mentioned that the start of his summers always has a higher concentration of photoshoots, to make up for not having them during exams and studying. That's why I offered to go for him today, because he's been kept so busy that he's not been able to see his friends. And because he had scheduled something with his friends, and then Nathalie just knocked it off of his schedule to put the photoshoot there instead and that didn't seem fair."

Amelie muttered something uncomplimentary about that, too, then her determined expression returned. "Well, that works in our favor. Tell Adrien that you'll do his next photoshoot, too- if you're willing to, of course," she added hastily. "And then I want you to tell this girl no. Tell her to back off. Enforce your boundaries- which I know you're good at doing."

Felix hesitated. He could see where his mom was going with her plan and why it would make more sense for him to be the one to confront Lila instead of Adrien, but- well, another Lila-filled photoshoot really wasn't that appealing.

But it sounded like he wouldn't have to deal with Lila's nonsense this time and could cut it off like he normally would, abrupt and sharp. He could see her downfall in person, see her expression go from overconfident to uncertain to crushed.

Maybe it was a bit petty and vindictive of him, but... well, Felix was a bit petty and vindictive, so what.

So he nodded. "I can do that."

Amelie lit up, clearly excited. "If I'm reading this girl right from what you've said, your no will mean next to nothing to her and she'll persist. To press charges and win, we'll probably need audio- and I can set you up with something that can hide under your clothes without showing."

Felix couldn't help the grin that flashed across his face. "Very nice."

"If my schedule allows, I'll be there too," his mom added. "As close by as I can be, so I can step in as needed. If Nathalie thinks that she'll be telling Adrien- you- to simply endure the harassment, she has another think coming."

"I like that," Felix said at once. "I mean, I don't like the idea of having to tolerate any more of Lila's company, but I can do it."

"Fantastic." Amelie leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Now, as for the rest of the plan..."

  Convincing Adrien to let Felix take over for his next photoshoot was easier said than done, particularly after Felix told him about the brief face-off that he and Lila had had after the photoshoot. Adrien wanted to step in and work to smooth things over before Lila could lash out at Marinette in retribution, but Felix pointed out that Lila wouldn't be able to lash out at Marinette if Felix carried out the photoshoot like his mom wanted him to. She would be completely and thoroughly discredited, and if she turned into an akuma for it- well, so what? Better her than Marinette, surely, or Adrien.

Adrien hadn't considered that, obviously. After another moment's consideration, and the reassurance that it was Amelie's plan and not Felix's, he had given in and sent a screenshot of his photoshoot schedule to Felix so that he could show his mom and they could plan. Thankfully the next photoshoot wasn't too far out, so Adrien might not have to deal with keeping Lila happy in the meantime so that she wouldn't try to smear Marinette's reputation.

(Apparently Marinette was the only one of Adrien's friends who had been told about Felix's stepping in for a photoshoot thus far, and the only one told about Felix's plan to knock Lila back. He hadn't seen her again in person, but from what Adrien told him, Marinette had already forgiven Felix for the fiasco he had caused during his previous time in Paris.)

(Marinette was also the person that Adrien was going to be spending his time with while Felix was doing the photoshoot. Apparently most of his other friends were going to be busy, but Marinette wasn't, and she had been plenty happy to spend some time with Adrien.

Adrien had been pleasantly surprised by that, since he had been sure that she would be busy, too, but Felix hadn't been. After all, Marinette was in love with Adrien, wasn't she? Of course she would make time to spend with Adrien, that shouldn't have been a surprise.

Or had she not confessed to Adrien again in the months since Felix was last in Paris? He would have thought that she would have.)

"Remember to turn the recorder on," Amelie reminded him as they pulled up near the school, where Adrien was finishing up with a fencing lesson. He and Adrien were hoping to make the swap earlier than they had the previous time, since the photoshoot was pretty much right after Adrien's fencing lesson got out and it would be hard for them to swap without risking someone noticing. "And be very clear vocally about your objections, so that the recorder will pick them all up."

"Will we be able to use the recordings, do you think?" Felix asked, a thought occurring to him last-minute. "Or is it against the law here? I think it's fine back at home, but…"

"I'll deal with it if there's any legal issues," Amelie assured him. "I have connections, and I'm not afraid to use them."

That didn't quite answer Felix's question, but he supposed that it was as good of an answer as any. With one last check to make sure that he looked like Adrien and had everything he needed, Felix hopped out of the car and slipped into the school, making his way to the locker rooms. The fencers were finishing up their last matches, so it was easy enough for Felix to head to the bathrooms and text Adrien to make sure that he would know to come into the bathrooms, too. They wouldn't see each other face-to-face before the photoshoot- after all, Adrien's teammates might question how he had somehow doubled himself if they ran into the two of them in the bathroom- but it would make the trade much easier.

It wasn't long at all before Felix heard someone else enter the bathroom. He straightened in his stall, listening closely and keeping an eye on his phone. That could be Adrien, but it could just as easily be one of his teammates.

Luck was on his side. His phone buzzed, and a message lit up the screen.

Adrien: In the bathroom. Left my fencing bag on the chair near the door- you can take it so that the Gorilla doesn't wonder where I left it.

Felix nodded and shot back a quick message.

Right. See you later.

After another pause, Felix stepped out of his stall, heading for the sinks and washing his hands before claiming the fencing bag that was sitting on the somewhat out-of-place chair near the door. One glance- or rather, one whiff- inside assured him that it was Adrien's bag, and so Felix slung it over his shoulder before heading out into the locker rooms. A few good-byes to Adrien's teammates later and Felix was in Adrien's car, being whisked efficiently away by his bodyguard to the photoshoot.

Trade-off: smooth as butter.

Now that he had been to a photoshoot once, there was far less hesitation in Felix's step as he headed into the small tent to change, then out to hair and make-up for a touch-up. He had to wonder why Mr. Agreste would schedule a photoshoot for right after fencing in the first place as the stylists teased his hair to perfection. Surely the real Adrien's hair would be sweaty and messy after fencing and it would have made more sense for him to have some time for a shower first?

Maybe this was a one-off thing, just happening because they were trying to catch up on photoshoots after exams and they also had to work around Lila's schedule. If she even had one, that was. Something made Felix guess that Lila simply spent a lot of time holed up in her room, scheming and plotting. Maybe she pretended that she had a packed schedule in front of her friends, but in reality...

Well, one had to be really uninteresting to go to the same amount of effort that Lila was to get attention, and that generally suggested a lack of real activities to do.

Just like the previous time, the photoshoot started with individual shots. Felix went through the motions, posing and adjusting his expression as requested. It all went very smoothly...

...and then Lila showed up.

While Lila did her first individual shoot and Felix changed into his next outfit, he pulled the recorder that his mom had given him out. It was small and discreet, easy enough to hide until his shirt or in a pocket without creating any lumps. He got it set up to start recording, then headed outside, resigned to at least a few minutes of dealing with Lila and her grabby hands.

And as expected, Lila started clinging to him the second that Felix got back outside.

"Positions, please!" Simon called. "I want you back to back, but not quite touching, just next to each other-"

"Don't you think that we should be closer, though?" Lila asked immediately, wrapping her hands around Felix's bicep. "We could play a couple!"

"Not for these outfits," Simon told her. "Backs to each other, please-"

"Oh, but I think-"

"I think my sleeve is getting wrinkled," Felix commented, trying to step away from Lila. "And if you don't let go, you're going to bruise my arm."

Lila scowled and finally released him. Felix readjusted his shirt- there were no wrinkles, of course, the lovely light fabric that the shirt was made out of wasn't the type to get creased up by a minute's clinging- and then slid easily into position.

"Good, Adrien, perfect!" Simon called. "Lila- no, not like that, I want your arms crossed- if you stand like that, it looks like you're trying to cop a feel, and no one wants that."

...Felix wasn't even surprised.

The next few shots went the same way. Lila was clingy, but not as incredibly forward as she had been at the end of the previous shoot. Maybe getting her off required several reprimands and comments about how she was messing up his outfit, but she did get off. Eventually.

And then they changed outfits again, and Simon consulted his shot sheet. His eyebrows raised, and then he glanced between Felix and Lila. "The top suggested theme for these outfits is, ah, summer romance."

Felix blinked. That... was not what he was expecting. It sounded like something that Lila would have suggested, not something that Adrien's stick-in-the-mud father or his secretary would come up with.

And then it hit him like a brick. He would bet anything that this was what Lila had been talking to Nathalie about at the previous photoshoot. She had been the one pushing and pushing for a 'Summer Romance" theme for an excuse to get close to him in the previous shoot, and now she had gotten it.

"Oh, that's lovely, isn't it, Adrien?" Lila trilled. She attached herself to his arm, plastering herself against his side. "There's so much to work with there! Hugs, kisses- we'll be so cute together!"

"I'm not comfortable with that," Felix said at once, looking to Simon. "You said that was a suggested theme. Would it be possible to go with another theme?"

Simon nodded, referencing his sheet. "Yes, of course. One of the other suggestions was-"

"Oh, I think we should at least try it!" Lila insisted. Her grip got tighter, and her nails dug in. "Here, let's just start now and not overthink it!"

With that, she bounced up on her toes and tried to press a kiss to Felix's cheek, aiming for close to his mouth. Felix leaned back as fast as he could, dodging her completely in one quick movement.

Maybe he had complained about taking gymnastics as a child, but sometimes it really did come in handy. Perhaps he should consider picking it back up again.

"I'm not comfortable with that," Felix told her clearly, ignoring Lila's scowl and the way her nails dug in even deeper. "And since I said no, we're not doing it."

"Well, I want to!" Lila insisted. "Come on, Adrien! We're friends, aren't we?"

There was that edge again. This time, Felix knew what it meant: by the time the photoshoot ended, she was probably going to start her attacks on Marinette's character. It was an attempt to bring Adrien back under her control.

Too bad she was dealing with Felix, not Adrien.

"That doesn't mean that I'm comfortable doing romantic shots," Felix said firmly. "Particularly if you're going to try to spring unwanted kisses on me. Now kindly let go of my arm. Your nails are digging in."

A scowl flashed across Lila's face before she pasted on her happy face again. "How can you know that you aren't comfortable with it until you've tried it? At least a few shots-"

"Remove your fingers from my arm or I will remove them for you."

Lila's grip only got tighter. "Stop complaining, I'm hardly-"

Felix didn't let her finish. Before she could break any more skin, he grabbed two of her fingers and bent them back sharply. They gave with a (satisfying, Felix had to admit) crack, and Lila snatched her hands back with a cry.

"My fingers!"

"I told you to let go," Felix told her tartly, stepping away and rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal the dents and cuts from Lila's nails. "Simon, would you mind snapping a picture of this? I have a photo from when she did this during the last photoshoot, but this is far worse."

Simon nodded at once, getting in close and snapping photos from all angles. Across the way, Nathalie finally noticed the commotion and hustled over, glancing between Felix and the sobbing Lila.

For once, Felix was willing to bet that the tears weren't fake.

"He broke my fingers!" Lila sobbed, clutching her hand close to her chest. "Adrien, I can't believe that you would be so mean-"

"Nathalie, I think you should look at this," Simon told Nathalie, pulling her over next to Felix. "Adrien has commented numerous times during photoshoots that Lila is holding on to his arm too hard. He asked her to let go several times in a row before he pulled her off, and- well, I can't blame him, she's drawn blood."

Nathalie's lips pressed together in a thin line as she inspected the injury, and then she pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call Lila's mom, and then I'll call Mr. Agreste. I think it's safe to say that Lila will be fired. This is unacceptable."

Felix could barely hide his smile.

  Twelve minutes later, Mrs. Rossi rushed into the park, her wide eyes locking onto the still-sobbing Lila almost immediately. She rushed to her daughter's side at once, kneeling down beside her.

"Mio caro, what happened?" Mrs. Rossi asked, reaching for her daughter. "Ms. Sancoeur said that you got your fingers broken!"

"What happened is that Lila learned the consequences of sexual harassment," Felix cut in coolly before Lila could speak up, and Mrs. Rossi's head swung to the side, her eyes wide. "Some of the consequences, at least. I will be pressing charges, and she'll be lucky if I'm the only one."

"Se- sexual harassment?" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed, glancing between him and Lila. "Surely that's an exaggeration, Nathalie, how on earth would Lila do anything that could be considered sexual harassment to her boyfriend during a photoshoot? Surely this was just an overreaction to a lover's spat-"

"I was not aware that your daughter was dating anyone, least of all me," Felix told her, since- well, it was true. After all, Adrien wouldn't touch someone like Lila with a ten-foot pole. "Frankly, considering how often Lila lies, I'm surprised that you believed her at all. No one wants to be dating a liar, particularly a social-climbing liar with no respect for personal space."

Mrs. Rossi reeled back. "A- a liar? No, Lila's a sweet girl!"

"They're just trying to frame me, Mommy!" Lila sniffled, and Felix rolled his eyes. Of course she would pull out the mummy card now. "Adrien just a-attacked me out of nowhere, we were just modeling-"

Felix snorted. He had abandoned his Adrien act for good now, and from the looks he was getting from Nathalie, she had caught on to the switch. He held up his injured arm, deciding to ignore Lila completely. She clearly wasn't going to admit that she was in the wrong, so entertaining her at all was a lost cause. "A 'sweet girl', hmm? She's given both me and my cousin bruises from clinging so hard, and now she's broken my skin. And she's been threatening to destroy the reputation of one of my cousin's classmates, all because she's a petty brat who hasn't been properly contained."

Mrs. Rossi shook her head, her eyes wide as she took in the injuries. "No, that doesn't sound like her at all! Why- why would she want to destroy anyone's reputation, that makes no sense!"

"Because I haven't-"

"Because Marinette called her out on her lies," Felix told Mrs. Rossi tartly, raising his voice over Lila's whine. "The lies about knowing all sorts of famous people personally, because she 'saved their cat' or was personally helping them with songwriting or was running a million charities, or the lies about going on a- what was it, a three-month trip out of Paris during the school year, when she was actually here the entire time?"

Mrs. Rossi slumped on the ground. "No, no, I can't- I can't believe this-"

Lila shuffled closer to her mom, still clutching her hand to her chest as she made another effort to squirm out of the situation. "They're lying, mama, don't listen to them-"

"Well, you had better start believing it!" Amelie snapped, appearing out of the nearby trees and striding up to the group. She waved her phone. "I have pictures of your little hussy of a daughter trying to force a kiss on my son, and we have evidence of her refusing to let go of my son's arm. You should be ashamed, really! I don't know how I would be able to show my face in public if my son acted the same way that your daughter has! Lying and manipulation and sexual harassment and threats for months and months and months on end, and what have you done to stop it? Nothing, by the sounds of it!"

"I didn't know-" Mrs. Rossi started, but Amelie cut her off with a scoff.

"You didn't know? Oh, excuse me for not being very impressed there. I've been busy as anything quite often with my projects and modeling and films and charity and events, but you had better bet that I made the time to check in with Felix's teachers! If I didn't have the time to go in before or after school, I emailed them. I made sure that I met his friends. I knew the instant that he started acting out, and I could talk to him about it. Have you done any of that?"

"No, but-"

"And this whole business with Lila being 'out of the country' for months! How did you miss that she wasn't going to school?" Amelie demanded.

Mrs. Rossi flinched. "I- she said that the school was closed because of akuma attacks-"

"For three months? That's not even a good lie! Do you live under a rock? Sometimes the akuma attacks drag on for a bit, but it's just hours, not- not even days! All you would need to do to disprove her ridiculous lies would be to turn on a TV! Or do a Google search, that only takes seconds!"

"I-" Mrs. Rossi swallowed hard, and her voice got quiet, nearly inaudible. "I was busy at a new job, and I- I thought that I could trust her."

"Clearly not!"

"In any case, Lila is fired as a Gabriel model, and we will be plenty transparent with the media as to why should they ask," Nathalie told Mrs. Rossi, consulting her tablet. "Adrien has confirmed that he's been grabbed at just like Felix, and that is unacceptable. Mr. Agreste expects that his son be able to work without being sexually harassed by other models."

Mrs. Rossi only nodded, all of the fight drained out of her. Lila whipped her head back and forth between her mom and the rest of the group, panic starting to spread across her features.

"Mama, you don't believe them, do you-"

"Quiet, Lila," Mrs. Rossi snapped. "I've heard enough. I've seen the evidence. I know that you're lying now."

Lila's face screwed up, and then she suddenly lunged to her feet, right at Felix. "How dare you! I had everything going my way, and you've screwed it up! When- when I get akumatized, you'll regret this, Adrien!"

Felix stepped neatly out of the way, extending one foot just enough to send Lila sprawling back to the ground with a wail of pain but not enough that it would be obvious that it was completely on purpose. "Boo-hoo, cry me a river. Also still not Adrien. Try his stunt double instead."

Lila only sobbed on the ground, clutching at her fingers. Her mom hauled her up, looking completely ashamed as she hustled her daughter away.

"Well, I think that's the end of this photoshoot," Nathalie said as soon as the duo was out of sight. She sighed, massaging her forehead in clear exasperation. "Felix, can I ask that next time, Adrien actually shows up like he's supposed to?"

Felix raised an eyebrow at her. "Why? It's not like anyone will be able to tell the difference."

"Gabriel would be most unhappy-"

"Gabriel is unhappy about most things most of the time, so I don't see how it makes any difference," Amelie told her tartly. She looped her arm through Felix's. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I think that Felix and I have a lawsuit to go file. Good-bye."

As it turned out, Gabriel didn't even have to tell the press why its newest model had been abruptly dropped. An Adrien fan had been hidden nearby and watching the shoot, and had taken video of the entire Lila downfall. It had been uploaded at once, and spread across the internet by other fans.

Fortunately, it meant that- at least in Paris- no one would ever believe Lila Rossi again. The outrage over everything that she had done- and especially the attempt at a forced kiss and the clinging to Felix hard enough to break his skin- was enough that Felix was pretty sure that no one would even try to be her friend out of pity. There was no way that any of Adrien's classmates would miss the news, either, which was really what they were most interested in.

Unfortunately, Adrien's fans were over the moon at the idea of an Adrien stunt double, because it meant that there were two of them.

...and unfortunately for some particularly avid and over-eager fans, Amelie Graham de Vanily was none too thrilled about her son and her nephew getting chased around Paris and was still riding high on the success of her lawsuit against Lila. One dinner with the Bourgeois family later and it was officially against the law in Paris to chase after teen celebrities and to form what amounted to search mobs, and there was going to be further investigation and adjustment as needed to prevent other future harassment. Also- and on a completely unrelated topic- Audrey Bourgeois would be in charge of the wardrobe department on the next Graham Films production.

And as for Felix... well, all of a sudden, Adrien's friends all became a lot more receptive to the idea of inviting him to their get-togethers. Some were still a little wary of him, but that didn't bother Felix at all. After all, Felix was used to people regarding him with some trepidation at home, and he was hardly going to make himself comfortable by acting all warm and cuddly. But several of Adrien's friends were fine with that, or perhaps they just were accepting because they knew that it would make Adrien happy.

Felix didn't suppose that it really mattered either way. He wasn't trying to form lifelong friendships in Paris, just trying to enjoy his summer as well as he could. And with Lila firmly out of the picture- she had been shipped back to Italy to attend boarding school, mostly to keep her away from akumas- and with outwardly friendly company...

Well, the summer was looking bright.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

Bridgerton & Selective Justification: A Rant

With a Particular Aside in Which This Author Questions if There Isn't a Double Standard at Play in Televised Historical Fiction.

Ok so the other day i posted complaining about how ludicrous the "Will Daphne marry Prince Friedrich?!" Plotline is to me and i referred to Daphne as a "commoner". I got two comments on that post of people saying Daphne *isn't* a commoner because she's a Viscount's daughter. I did respond but I'd like to go a little more in depth into it my thoughts on why this plotline verges on abject silliness to me, based on my (i will freely admit) *limited* knowledge of British aristocracy and the source material itself.

So if anyone reading this has a more detailed knowledge of the Peerage and how it relates to Bridgerton please correct me I'm eager to know more.

So to start out my understanding of the pecking order goes like this:

DUKE/DUCHESS = Highest ranking title in the peerage. Often bestowed on important members of the Royal family not in direct line for the throne. Worth noting is the fact that a Duke in British peerage is different than a Continental Duke. On the European Continent title Duke/Grand Duke can be associated with sovereign rule of an independent state, which has never been the case in England. Dukes and Duchesses are addressed as "Your Grace"

MARQUESS/MARCHIONESS = English equivalent of Marquis/Marquise. Very high ranking in the peerage, closely related to Earldom, but more important  since it has it's roots as the title of border (marcher) lords instrumental in a country's defense.  

EARL/COUNTESS = Referred to as a "count" everywhere else. The difference is the heavy germano-scandinavian influence on early medieval England. "Earl" is derived from the Nordic term for what could be considered a chieftan. Earls being only slightly lower in rank than a Marquess could be very rich and very important. The Earldom of Northumberland was one of the richest in 16th century England.

Now at this point we start to get into the lower peerage.

VISCOUNT/VISCOUNTESS = Addressed as "The Right Honourable". Viscountsies in England tend to almost exclusively be secondary titles held by Marequesses and Earls and passed down to their sons. Any son of a Marquess or Earl is a Viscount. The oldest son inherits the title of Earl plus all subsequent lands estates and incomes. The younger sons could also be viscounts wherever there are titles enough.

BARON/BARONESS = lowest rank of the peerage.

BARONET/BARONETESS = The only British title that doesn't land you in the peerage, the rank of baronet is (as I have heard it described) the barnacle on the bottom of the British aristocracy. It's basically a weird limbo between a Lord and a Knight that was invented by King James I in 1611 primarily as a way to jack up taxes so tbh its kind of a joke.

So Daphne's brother Anthony is a Viscount. He inherited this title from his father which likely means that their father was a second son. As you can see from this ranking list I just did, in marrying Simon, Daph married up. Way up. Not unsusual, given that her family has money and is well regarded.

Now clearly Bridgerton works differently than ACTUAL Regency England. Here, APPARENTLY if you just make a good impression on the Queen she takes a VERY PERSONAL interest in your life and she will marry you off to whatever Foreign prince she's related to who happens to be visiting. But here's where it's a bit wooly for me because there are two different contexts for the term "commoner" in England.  I think we all pretty well know how the European Royal marriage market  worked up through the 19th century, since we all like to make fun of them being inbred. Because there's a bit of a hang up not just about "Royal blood" but also Diplomatic marriage.

In the context of people with titles or peerages being nobles/aristocrats and any one without being a commoner then of course, Daphne is a noble. HOWEVER the context in which I used it in my previous post was ROYALS vs NOT ROYALS. It's perfectly acceptable to refer to someone not of Royal Blood as a commoner. In my replies I used Elizabeth Woodville as an example of a commoner. Now she DID marry a royal (Edward IV) and of course this was a few hundred years before Bridgerton would be BUT EVERYONE thought Edward was crazy for marrying her and she was not well liked because she was seen as at worst a gold-digger and at best an upstart. It was not only an uneven match but a purely domestic one which cut of England from potentially politically critical strategic foreign marriages. This is how royalty worked.

Naturally the strategic aspect of marriages was *slightly* diminished in the nineteenth century, but not really and it was still considered extremely important. Usually a young royal looking to get married was doing so at their family's behest and had a pre-determined pool they more or less HAD to choose from. Marriage to commoners of course  DID happen. It was called "Morganatic Marriage". Prince Augustus of Prussia had a morganatic marriage to a Polish aristocrat. One of Charlotte's own sons, Augustus Fredrick, had TWO morganatic marriages which kept him away from court because his wife could not be recognised due to their having married in defiance of the Royal Marriages Act of 1772, which requires all members of the  British Royal family to obtain the monarch's consent before marrying.

So I posed the very realistic question of "how would this choice to marry Daphne affect the Prince?" I don't know how morganatic marriages were looked on based on Prussian law but it seems likely, especially since Prince Friedrich is the direct heir that this marriage would have caused problems and i find it doubtful that Daphne would ever find herself addressed as "Princess".

I know that Bridgerton is fiction and that in being fiction it is pardoned  for not following courses that would be realistic in actual history. But at what point does "it's fiction" become an excuse for sloppy execution of world building?

The show takes the time to explain to the viewer (in one of the precious few moments of actual exposition) why there are black aristocrats [because the king married a black woman and things changed - which JUST IN CASE anyone is wondering, no Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz was not in any meaningful way "bi-racial" irl, based on the research I've done.] With this kind of deviation from history in a Drama that does, without any official caveats in the marketing, claim to be set in England in 1813, the writers recognised that this needed to be qualified. And in qualifying it, they justify it. They take it beyond fiction into fantasy, but it is justified.

The reason they recognised it had to be justified is because they know that most of the viewers know this is not how it went in history and would hold them to account. So why isn't more care taken to qualify the Liberties taken with the REST of Recency Society?

They talk repeatedly about "Coming Out" into society, particularly regarding Eloise. And Eloise wears her hair down and wears shorter skirts because she's still considered a child because she isn't out. But the IMPORTANT, PRACTICAL parts of not being "Out" are COMPLETELY IGNORED. She and her younger siblings are OUT at SOCIETY EVENTS. CONSTANTLY. Eloise speaks when not spoken to. She speaks DIRECTLY TO THE FOPPING QUEEN (TO WHOM SHE'S NEVER BEEN PRESENTED, BUT I GUESS IF YOU'RE DaPhNe BRiDgErToN's sister you can do whatever you want). There are BABIES at BALLS in this show. For a story that's trying to sell you on the Strrrrrrictures of RRRegency Societeh they're TOTALLY NOT INCLUDING MOST OF THOSE STRICTURES except when the plot demands it.

Why, I ask, is this? Perhaps it is pure ignorance on the writers part. They don't qualify it because they don't know rules like this existed. In which case its just bad, sloppy writing.

OR

They do know about it and ignore it and don't bother to qualify it with a "Oh Daphne a match with Prince Friedrich is so advantageous how marvellous Prussia has recently accepted Morganatic Marriage ahahaha" because they think we a) don't know or b) don't care and ITS STILL SLOPPY WRITING. Which hey, most Bridgerton fans who swallow any swill where hot people catch feelings probably don't care, but that doesn't mean its not careless writing and it doesn't make it NOT condescending. Never write DOWN to your audience.

This show approaches (but by a hair's breadth doesn't reach) REIGN levels of bad in terms of historicity. And the writers of Reign, like the writers of Bridgerton never claimed to be making an authentic representation of history. But perhaps it's because BTon only has 2 actual historical figures (one of whom is SO UNRECOGNIZABLE from her historical counterpart in countenance and personality that they might as well have just made a composite character - "How much can you change a thing before it isn't that thing anymore?") Or perhaps it's the inclusivity shield  but it seems like Bridgerton is getting a lot more leniency than Reign did.

The pass I see given to Bridgerton is "its frothy fun" (and yeah okay these costumes are worlds more realistic to the claimed period than Reign was even with the jacked up, flat bustlines) BUT. SO. WAS. REIGN.

I don't even like Reign but I do think there's a double standard here and I would like to know why.

[figurctives]

     henri was fifteen when she realized theodore was her future. 

     or more like, when she realized she didn’t have another option. the first time she had a crush on a boy it happened fast. she’d met him at her summer hagwon. he was smart and kind and always saved for henri next to him. it took weeks for her to gather up the courage to ask him out; she wanted him to be her date for a charity event her mother was hosting. it would be her first time doing so, going with a boy. but it wouldn’t be the boy from her hagwon. her mother denied her of that immediately, like it wasn’t even worth considering. oh, no, henrietta. you’ll go with theodore instead, how about that?

      the idea had seemed outlandish at first. theodore, the boy who teased her and laughed when she cried and got her in trouble. she wanted nothing to do with him, only dealt with his shenanigans because he was always around. looking back, she wants to ask her mother, don’t you think we were too young? but she hadn’t thought that back then, she hadn’t even realized yet. not until the first time turned into the second time and the third turned into the fifth. instead she’d asked her mother, why theo? there’s a boy at my hagwon i really like, why do i have to go with theo?

     her mother had brushed her fringe from her face and said, because you and theodore look so lovely together. i’m sure you’ll make him very happy. there had been no more room for arguing after that. it was settled. for almost every formal event or gala or dinner henri attended for the next five years of her life, theo was her date and vice versa. he never even asked her to be his girlfriend, but somewhere along the way they fell together. started holding hands even when they didn’t have to, going places that were more than just the events they were expected to show up to. movies, dinner, each other’s houses and dorm rooms.

      it was easy to go along with. when theo kissed her for the first time in spring four years ago, on the sidewalk in seoul under the cherry blossoms, when their classmates teased them and said, you guys are such a cute couple, and theo didn’t deny it. just laid his arm across henri’s shoulders and smirked. henri had blinked, realization dawning over her and said, thank you, because it was easy to go along with. until it wasn’t. 

      until theo’s kindness and his interest ran full circle. until henri stopped knowing how to make him laugh or smile or pay attention to her. until she realized she would only be allotted into his life based on convenience and appearances. you’re so naive, henrietta, he’d say. because he gave it up first. the idea of them together, actually together. the hope that their future would be more than cold business arrangements and familial expectations, he never held on to that very tightly. not the way that henri did, for so long. 

      but finally, she was starting to let go of it, too.

––––

      “one week suspension,” theo sneers, tossing his phone across the room. it crashes into the wall and makes henri jump. “that’s all this incompetent staff is capable of.”

      “hold still,” henri says, fingers under his chin, tilting his face towards her with one hand and a damp cloth in the other. she stands between his legs in his room, at the edge of his bed, cleaning the dried blood from his bandaged nose. he’s been at it since that afternoon two days ago, face red even after the blood was cleaned from his skin. he’s done, he’d said as the nurses flitted around him in the infirmary. he’s finished. 

      he looks a little ridiculous now, his swollen skin a watercolor canvas of bruises, his nose stint ugly and silver. 

      "they’re a bunch of greedy cowards,” he goes on. “as if leonard park’s hush money is enough to allow his vermin son to continue tarnishing st. agathe’s. he should be expelled. his younger siblings, too, they’re all nothing but bad news.”

      silence settles as henri removes the bloodied gauze from theo’s nose, his anger simmering. she does her best to hide her relief. only a suspension, and not the permanent removal theo is fighting so hard for. the thought had scared her at first, that sinclair might be sent away and not allowed to return. would these feelings still exist inside of her if that were the case? would the sound of his name stop making her heart stutter if he was no longer around? would her life go back to normal, then?

      she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, hasn’t been able to stop trying to figure out how it all fell apart before they were even able to learn how they fit together. i’m probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to you. her fingers pause where they’re wrapping a strip of gauze around itself, as the words play over in her head. as she thinks of how sinclair’s shaking hand had felt in hers as she bandaged his bruised knuckles and he told her his secrets. 

      “he’s really not that bad,” she says, quietly, as she pushes the clean gauze  gently back into theo’s nose. he hisses, pulls away to look at her, offended. 

      “you’re defending him?”

      “no,” she assures. her hand finds the back of his neck and she pulls him close again to remove the blood and bandages from the other side. “but i think it’s important to take into consideration that calvin is his best friend, and they aren’t on good terms. if calvin is really... if he and sinclair never get the chance to work things out, it would be really devastating for him.”

      henri can’t get that out of her head, either. that look in sinclair’s eyes. that desperate need for answers, the fear that theo’s words might be true. but then she thinks about the way theo’s face had sounded under his fist, and she pushes it all aside. when theo grimaces up at her and says, you’re too naive, henrietta, she can’t help but to agree. 

––––

      the week of sinclair’s absence is relatively uneventful, with the school year finally approaching its end and finals just around the corner. with both calvin and sinclair gone, campus has grown quiet.

      this time last year, there had been a list of secret parties going around, all leading up to their final day, making the last weeks before summer exciting rather than stressful. but now, it feels inappropriate. the same way st. agathe’s had gone dark in the weeks following valentina’s demise, they’re all paying their premature respects to calvin. there’s been no sign of him. no ransom letter like the police thought, no clues as to where he could have gone. nothing. people were starting to lose hope. 

      but for all the parties that aren’t happening, henri still finds herself invited to one. halfway through the week, an unexpected face stops henri at the library’s front desk. as she hands over her book to be checked out, a body leans against the counter beside her.

      “hey,” luna says, friendly smile a little awkward. “listen, my birthday is coming up, and i know this is kind of out of the blue, but i’m celebrating this weekend, and i wanted to invite you.”

      “oh,” henri says, blinking away her confusion. she can count on a single hand the conversations she’s had with luna, and she’d still have fingers left over. she has no idea why luna would want to invite her to her birthday celebrations. “i don’t, um... i don’t think-”

      “i know it’s sudden,” luna interjects. she chews at her lower lip in contemplation for a beat, before she sighs, shoulders sagging. “but here’s the thing: simon is always making fun of me for not having any friends, so when i said i wanted to celebrate, it was kind of too embarrassing to admit that he was right, so i told him to plan something and that i’d bring people, but i don’t have a lot people i can ask, so. will you come?” she clasps her fingers together. “for the sake of my pride, please?”

      there is a glaring list of pros and cons that immediately presents themselves to henri, but with luna standing right here, staring henri down and holding up the line, she knows that that list doesn’t matter: she can’t say no. her lips press into a tight smile, and she nods. “sure. i’d, uh... i’d love to.”

     really, she’d rather do anything but. because the first con on her list is enough to wash away any of the pros. sinclair is without a doubt, one hundred percent, going to be there. and as luna tells her the time and place, disappearing before henri can change her mind, a sense of dread begins to bundle in her gut. 

      but she finds herself outside of the riot house at the end of the week, anyways, knocking on the front door as the sun begins to settle low in the sky. she very pointedly does not think about the last time she’d been in this position, snow sparkling beneath the sun instead of a green, carefully manicured lawn. when the door swings open, her heart catches in her throat. she doesn’t know why she came here.

      simon stands on the other side of the threshold, a ridiculous party hat on his head, the elastic strap pressing into the skin beneath his chin. 

      “you came!” he rejoices, ushering her inside. “i didn’t believe luna when she said people actually accepted her invitations. you can be honest, she paid you to come, didn’t she?”

      “hey!” luna scolds, as henri and simon emerge from the entryway into the kitchen. to henri’s absolute surprise, leaning against the island in the middle of the room, is professor kwon. he smiles at her, and nods his head in greeting. luna continues to defend herself, like none of this is even the least bit odd. “i didn’t bribe anyone. everyone i invited said they would come, and they did.”

      “so, this is it? this is your party?” simon asks, like he can’t help but be disappointed. “two people?”

      “of course not,” luna says, emphasizing the final t. “i invited archie as well.”

[bytheangell]

5 Things to Put in a Pentagram to Summon Raphael Santiago

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Pentagram for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Saphael (Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago) Rating: Teen and Up  – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: fluff, fluff and humor  Summary:  Simon, desperate for any hint of what Raphael likes in an attempt to flirt with him, resorts to memes in a subtle attempt to trick the answers out of him.  -------------

Simon sends another one of those ‘about you’ sorts of memes to Raphael - this one is meant to be a list of choose ‘this’ or ‘that’ options, except Raphael doesn’t answer any of them and instead sends a wall of text back about why anyone would choose either of those options, or that he hasn’t even heard of the actors or shows listed, and-

Simon sighs, dropping his phone onto his chest as he sits on Clary’s sofa.

“Trouble in paradise?” Clary asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It isn’t working,” Simon says with another dramatic sigh. “I keep sending him those question memes to try and find out something he likes that I can use, but he just keeps criticizing them instead of giving me anything to work with.”

“You could just ask him,” Clary points out.

Simon balks at the idea. “Oh, yeah, sure, because it’s so simple. Let me just go up to the leader of the vampire clan and ask him what his favorite flowers are so I can get them for him.”

“It’s clearly better than sending him memes that ask if he prefers roses or carnations,” Clary points out.

“Because the answer is neither, they’re both so cliche,” Simon offers. “At least I’m getting a great idea of what he doesn’t like. Soon I’ll be able to narrow it down, right?”

Simon flips through his social media, his eyes catching on another meme - but this one is perfect. It’s practically fate that he finds it now of all times.

“Clary, I got it!” he yells victoriously, jumping off of the sofa to walk over and shove his phone in her face.

“The pentagram meme?” Clary asks dubiously. “Why is this your sudden revelation when all the others failed?”

“Because,” Simon says. “5 Things to Put in a Pentagram to Summon Me. It’s flawless. He’ll tell me five of his favorite things, or at least five things he at least vaguely likes, and I can use that!”

Simon hits send and waits. He knows Raphael is meeting with Magnus so he’s probably too busy to keep checking his phone, but whenever he does get it--

Simon’s phone dings and he opens the message from Raphael immediately.

His face falls.

Raphael- ...why would you need 5 things, you know all it takes is grave dirt to summon a vampire, right? You don’t even need a pentagram.

Simon sighs. “Fine, you were right. I give up.”

-------------

Raphael’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he doesn’t have to check to know that it’s Simon. Again.

“Are you going to see who it is?” Magnus asks. “It could be important.”

“Or it could be Simon with another ridiculous question game,” Raphael counters. He does check his phone because he’s the leader of the Brooklyn Vampire Clan and the one time he decides to ignore his phone would be the time the Dumort ends up on fire or something, but he only proves himself right when he sees Simon’s name and opens the message to find something about a pentagram.

“This is the fourth one this week,” Raphael mutters as he types out the obvious answer to what would be needed to summon him anywhere, which Simon definitely already knows.

“What are they, exactly?” Magnus asks. There’s something about the too-curious, lead-in tone of voice he has that makes Raphael immediately doubt the innocence of the question.

“They’re questions… ridiculous ‘would you choose this or that’ questions, or pointless lists of favorites, or this… honestly, I don’t even know what this last thing one is.”

Magnus hums to himself, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“What?” Raphael demands. He doesn’t like that look at all.

“Can I see them?” Magnus asks, holding his hand out expectantly. Raphael can’t imagine how it would hurt so he hands his phone over, and watches as the smirk on Magnus’ face only spreads the more he scrolls down. “Oh, that poor boy,” Magnus mutters to himself while laughing. “Raphael, I don’t know how to break it to you… but I believe our dear Simon has a crush on you.”

Raphael nearly chokes on the air he doesn’t need to breathe, an instinctive reaction of shock. “I beg your pardon?”

“He’s trying to find out things you like,” Magnus points out, like it should be the most obvious conclusion to draw. “This last one? ‘5 Things to Put in a Pentagram to Summon Me?”

“A ridiculous question, you know that-”

“Yes, yes. But this isn’t meant to be realistic, it’s a silly mundane meme. You were supposed to tell him your five favorite things. And I’ll bet you any money if you did, he’d find a way to get them for you.”

“Why wouldn’t he just say he likes me? Or ask me what I like?” Raphael says, grabbing his phone back and scrolling through the messages from Simon again. With that new idea in mind, he can see what Magnus is implying even if he doesn’t quite believe it or understand it.

“I mean… you are a little intimidating.”

“I am not,” Raphael says, but knows the words are a lie before he finishes them. Perhaps he is a little intimidating, but it comes with the territory. But also, perhaps he’s been a little extra dismissive of Simon lately, in no small part because he hasn’t known what to do with how close Simon keeps trying to get to him. At least now he knows why.

“I should call him and ask if he’s trying to flirt with me,” Raphael decides. The moment he goes to pull up Simon’s number his phone is snatched from his hands.

“Absolutely not, you’ll scare him off forever. He’ll never admit it like that,” Magnus explains with a shake of his head.

“Then what do you propose I do?” Raphael sighs. He’s entirely out of his element here.

“Well,” Magnus starts slowly. “If you’re not entirely opposed to the idea…” he lets the sentence fall off in a question and Raphael groans at the realization that Magnus is going to make him say it out loud.

“I’m not. He’s… endearing. In his own way.”

“I thought so,” Magnus beams. “In which case, you answer his pentagram question. Give him five things to woo you with.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Raphael takes his phone back and considers his answer thoroughly before typing.

Raphael: But if we’re ignoring the laws of vampire summoning, then I suppose my pentagram would be made of my car, a very strong bloody mary, a well-tailored suit, Charlie Chaplin movies, and the smell of my mother’s cooking.

He isn’t sure what Simon is going to do with that information, but at least now he can get on with the actual business he came here to discuss with Magnus.

-------------

It takes Simon a few days to get everything he needs. His timing, however, couldn’t be better. Raphael’s been very tense the last few days, with a new fledgling testing his patience even more than Simon had when he first arrived, tensions with the werewolves again, and that was all on top of his usual grumpiness.

The poor guy needed some time away, or at least a break from the constant pressure he keeps putting himself under. So while he’s out one night Simon gets everything ready for his return in the morning - he got his hands on an entire collection of Charlie Chaplin movies, a batch of bloody marys Maia promises are strong enough to knock even Raphael off his feet, and even though he’s set up a relaxing atmosphere with the piles of blankets and pillows carefully arranged in a pile on the floor in front of the projector, instead of wearing the pajama pants Simon so desperately craves he’s dressed in a very well-tailored suit. In fact, it’s the suit Raphael let him borrow for Alec’s wedding that he may or may not have very intentionally forgotten to give back. And, to top it all off, in the corner burns a candle Simon found called ‘Homesick’ meant to smell of Mexican spices and cooking.

He couldn’t work in the car, because how is he supposed to work an entire car into this definitely-not-a-date, but he hopes that four out of five is good enough.

Simon paces relentlessly, going over what he wants to say in his head a few times. He has a few lines he’s been practicing, about Raphael deserving to be taken care of and to be happy. That’s usually as far as he gets before it dissolves into increasingly panicked rambling about how he’d totally understand if he isn’t the one Raphael wants for those things, and even in his head it usually ends with Simon fleeing before he can embarrass himself too much, which doesn’t really bode well for how things will actually go when Raphael shows up.

All he can do now is wait.

-------------

Raphael is in a worse mood than usual when he gets back to the Dumort with mere minutes to spare before sunrise. He’s exhausted and frustrated, and beyond any limit on his patience after the full night of ‘territory debate’ he engaged in with the local werewolves after thinking they were beyond all of that these days.

“Why does the hotel smell like food?”

It’s the first thing that hits him the moment he steps inside. It’s faint from the first-floor entryway but present to his heightened sense of smell.

“No one knows. It’s coming from Simon’s room but he won’t let anyone in here. Just told me to tell you to go up there when you’re back, so I guess you’re going to be the lucky one to find out,” Lily says with a curious look on her face.

Raphael sighs. He isn’t in the mood for whatever miniature disaster Simon’s got going on right now, but he does at least go up to tell Simon as much before he plans on retreating to his room to decompress for the remainder of the day.

Raphael gives a single courtesy knock before turning the handle and opening the door.

“Simon, I don’t have time for whatever-” Raphael starts, but the words fall silent abruptly at the sight before him. He catches Simon pacing and muttering to himself in front of a pile of pillows and blankets in front of a projector with a stack of DVDs next to it with Charlie Chaplin at the top and a pitcher of bloody mary. The smell from before is much stronger now, and also a lot clearer - jalapeno, butter, cream, caraway, a hint of smoke… It smells like home. Not Brooklyn, but Mexico, where he was born. He can practically see his mother standing in front of him cooking just from the scent of it as he closes his eyes and breathes it in fully.

By the time Raphael’s taken in the little details of everything Simon clearly took the time and effort to gather and set up for him, Simon is already fumbling out an apology over Raphael’s initial outburst of annoyance.

“Sorry. I should’ve asked if you were busy first. I just… shit, just pretend none of this exists, and-”

“Is this for me?” Raphael cuts him off. He knows it is - it’s almost everything he listed out on his text to Simon the other day - but even as he looks at it he doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” Simon says, the smallest hint of a hopeful smile making its way back onto his face. “You’ve just been so stressed lately, and I thought… I thought I could do something nice for you.”

“You’re wearing a suit,” Raphael observes. “You know, I never did get to see that on you when you borrowed it before. It looks good on you.”

Simon practically beams at the compliment. It’s a short-lived expression that’s replaced immediately with panic at Raphael’s next question.

“Is this a date?”

Simon sputters. “I... I mean, it doesn’t have to be. We can just… hang out. Or I can leave. And you can just relax on your own. In fact, yeah, you do that and I’ll just go now,” Simon says, the jumbled words coming out very quickly.

Magnus was right. Simon was trying to flirt with him. How did he not see it before?

“Simon, wait,” Raphael says quickly, before Simon can get to the door. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

“You would?” Simon asks, obviously surprised.

“I would,” Raphael confirms. “And I wouldn’t mind if it were a date. If you wanted it to be.”

Simon gapes. “Oh. Oh! Okay. Then… yes. This is definitely a date. I would like for this to be a date.”

Raphael laughs. “This might be the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a very long time, you know,” he admits.

“You deserve it,” Simon tells him simply. “Do you like it? And be honest. I can take it.”

Raphael refrains from telling Simon that if he said he didn’t like it he’s pretty sure Simon might actually burst into tears, though it doesn’t matter because he does like it, much more than he imagined he would. In fact...

“I love it,” Raphael promises. “The suit part was more for me, though. You don’t have to keep that on if you don’t want to.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Simon sighs. “Because it’s nice and all but I cannot imagine sitting through all those movies in this. Be right back.”

When Simon returns in jeans and a band t-shirt they play some of the movies while sharing the pitcher of bloody mary, with Raphael explaining that they’re his favorites because his mother would play them all the time while he was younger. She always loved how universal they were, being silent movies and given that she spoke very little English when they first arrived in the States and that they reminded him of her as much as the smell of her cooking did. Simon tells him all about the ‘homesick’ candle he found called ‘Mexico’ so Raphael can order more for when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic. They laugh at the silly, mindless comedy and by the middle of the day Raphael can barely remember why he was in such a foul mood earlier.

“Thanks, Simon. I really enjoyed this,” Raphael says when the movies are over, the drinks are gone, and they both need to get some sleep.

“Does that mean you’d want to do it again sometime, maybe?” Simon asks hopefully.

“Only if you promise to actually ask me on a date instead of sending me internet quizzes,” Raphael counters.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Simon argues. “But fine. Will you go on another date with me?”

“Yes,” Raphael agrees. “But I’m planning the next one.”

“Deal,” Simon agrees. He hesitates by the doorway for a moment and Raphael can practically see him overthinking whatever gives him pause. Then Simon moves back into the room to put a hand on either side of Raphael’s shoulders, placing a quick kiss onto his cheek before he turns again and leaves.

Raphael refuses to admit how charming that kiss is. He does, however, grab his phone and send Simon the ‘5 Things to Put in a Pentagram to Summon Me’ meme. He has a second date to plan, after all.

It doesn’t take long for his phone to buzz with a text back from Simon and Raphael’s never been more grateful to be alone so that no one can see the entirely-too-fond look that crosses his face at the reply.

Simon: You, You, You, You, and You.

[amphtaminedreams]

S/S 2020 Fashion Month: A Basic, Uneducated Fashion Heaux’s A-Z of Everything Noteworthy (Part 3/3)

Hi to anyone reading,

I’m finally at the end!

It’s only taken me, like, over 2 months but I’m finally about to review the last 5 shows I wanted to talk about from this year’s RTW offerings for S/S 2020. It’s very frustrating that I couldn’t include them in the last post and make this a nice, neat, equally sized two part thing but Tumblr was being difficult and so here I am. On the plus side, I guess I can also make this post a bit of a round-up of my ultimate favourite collections of this year and some of my absolute favourite looks!

To quickly finish my review though, I’m gonna start this post with Vivienne Westwood’s S/S 2020 collection!

And I hate to start the post on a downer but I wasn’t wild about it. The bridal look worn by Bella Hadid and the similarly structured red dress are the only pieces that I really love. The accessories are beautiful, especially the shell necklace, and the fitted corset upper halves are very flattering, however, there’s just nothing particularly exciting about this collection for me.

As for YSL’s S/S 2020 collection, my opinion is pretty similar. Don’t get me wrong, I personally love the embroidered pieces, and the jewell tones, and the whole art teacher/female Russell Brand vibe (I’m aware this is my second Russell Brand comparison of this review, don't @ me) but why does there have to be SO GODDAMN MANY FUCKING SEQUIN SUITS? I included a couple of the more interesting ones just for reference and can you believe that’s only about 1/10 of the sequin suits that were actually shown. I feel like they genuinely made up a good 33% of the show. It’s so boring and overdone from Saint Laurent, like you really can’t convince me that they didn’t do this exact same thing last year and the Eiffel Tower being in the background and the presence of the goddess that is Naomi Campbell and all the fancy lighting in the world isn’t a distraction enough because they DID THAT LAST YEAR TOO. It’s just disappointing from a brand like YSL who really has the money to take it to any wacky and inventive place that they want, and who has drawn on so many historical and cultural references in the past; the bohemian looks I am here for, everything else can go.  

Next is Zadig and Voltaire, which is obviously more of a pedestrian brand than YSL, but still...disappointing. 

I guess disappointing is the wrong word really because it’s not as if I had especially high hopes, it’s just that in comparison to a collection like Off-White’s, which was also a lot more of a “wearable” line, this is very Stradivarius/Zara/H&M/any member of the Inditex group. I like the ruffles, but we’ve seen them done in a much more interesting way in pretty much every other show and same with the blazers and suits. Even the styling of the teal faux fur coat, which I adore, is meh. Even Emily DiDonato can’t save it for me and that’s saying something because she honestly might be one of the most beautiful women on this planet.

On a more positive note, Zimmerman was beautiful. In a collection inspired by the ocean, the tranquil colour palette, the ornate, frothy ruffles and the flowing materials are dead on, and indulgently so. I can see most of these pieces having universal appeal and looking good on anyone, and yet this wearability doesn’t make the collection boring by any means; I think it really is a matter of having a clear concept and attention to detail that save more subtle shows from falling by the wayside. 

And lastly, Zuhair Murad, which is always a designer I look forward to; I love a good princess dress and on that, he always delivers.

However, whilst there’s a similar feel and colour palette to Zimmerman, I’d say this collection doesn’t have quite as clear a direction. There’s definitely a lot of recurring themes of the ruffles and the high necks and the bohemian prints and suits that we’ve seen throughout fashion month, but this still doesn’t feel like the most relevant or current collection I’ve ever seen from Murad. It goes without saying that the dresses are beautiful but in the context of a red carpet where every dress is a princess dress, I can’t imagine any of these taking my breath away which is usually the case. 

I really WANTED to end on a positive note, I’m sorry! And there were so so many amazing moments this season. In general, I’m excited for a lot of the trends that are seemingly going to be coming up: more of the milkmaid thing, peasant blouses, bohemian influences and a shit load of gorgeous suits!

I was going to try and do a top 10 but I honestly have too many favourites so I’m making into a...top 20. It sounds like a cop-out, but when there’s THIS many shows to go through I think a top 20 is perfectly fair. 

1. Gucci

It has to be my favourite overall. The clearest concept, the most beautiful colours, and a whole range of interesting accessories and structures. Blew everything else out the water. Might make like Elsie Fisher in Eighth Grade and just start randomly saying Gucci out loud at totally inappropriate moments to express my love.

2. Marc Jacobs

Kooky and in your face but also thoughtful and delicate. Every piece is a statement. 

3. Moschino

The intersection where art meets fashion is always my favourite place to lurk and so it’s not surprise that Moschino’s Picasso inspired collection ticked so many boxes for me. Aside from that, the structures are gorgeous and on trend and I love the accessories.

4. Valentino

So. Many. Heavenly. Dresses.

5. Mugler

Definitely the sexiest S/S 2020 collection.

6. Paco Rabanne

I mean, yes, it is a little primary school teacher-y (it’s probably the coloured socks), but a fashion-y, wear-it-to-the-club version of primary school teacher style.

7. Ralph and Russo

A prissy pastel dream that channels the Sandra Dee sleepover scene from Grease in the modern day, the only thing that could’ve added to the Ralph and Russo show would be a more diverse group of models.

8. Brock

There’s never going to be an appropriate moment to wear any of the garments from the Brock collection. Does that mean I’m going to stop thinking about it? Never.

9. Balmain

I know Balmain didn’t go down too well with the fashion critics but the noughties pop girls obsessed child in me loveddddd it.

10. Etro

Not the most high-fashion but I would wear.

11. Dion Lee

Dion Lee took corsets and suspenders and harnesses and turned that whole dominatrix trend on its head by pairing them with androgynous silhouettes, fresh whites and subtle nude tones, and I’m here for it!

12. Alessandra Rich

Eighties presidential candidate’s wife/sorority queen realness.

13. Dilara Findikoglu

Definitely my favourite of the more “avant-garde” shows we saw this year.

14. Oscar de la Renta

These dresses speak for themselves, do I really need to say any more?

15. Christopher Kane

Christopher Kane made galaxy print cool again for the first time since it was murdered by 2013 “hipster” Tumblr and then buried 6ft under by the plethora of £5 and under wholesale retailers who thought it would be a good idea to mass produce leggings with said print on. 

16. Loewe

Delicate, purposeful and refined, Loewe put out a practical yet very, very pretty and season-appropriate spring collection.

17. Thom Browne

Thom Browne brought Marie Antoinette onto the runway. ‘Nuff said.

18. Louis Vuitton

I will never turn my nose up at anything 70s influenced and Louis Vuitton’s collection was probably the most authentic (and thus kinda ugly at times) that I’ve seen.

19. Simone Rocha

If I ever became part of some modern day witchy, forest-God worshipping cult, I would expect us all to be wearing Simone Rocha’s 2020 S/S collection and nothing less.

20. Vera Wang

Jenny Humphrey in Gossip Girl for the 2019 e-girl xoxo

SO.

3 parts and 3 months later, this is my review of fashion month 2019 coming to an end. I mean, it’s actually closer to A/W 2020 fashion week now than it is to S/S 2020 buuuut let’s just forget that little detail because I had NO FUCKING IDEA it would take this long.

If there’s anyone out there who read this to the end (and I highly, highly doubt there is and I don’t blame you) or even anyone that looked at the pictures (which is probably what I would do), please let me know! It got a bit long at times but I have generally reallllly enjoyed doing this and more than anything it’s got me sad that I’ll never see these shows in person :( sad times :( oh to be on the benefiting end of nepotism :( 

Thank you sooo much!

Lauren x

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1970

Under the cut.

B. J. Thomas – “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” -- January 3, 1970

Everything's going wrong, but he's not gonna cry or complain, because he knows things will turn good before long. Meh. I dunno, it's a bouncy song, sung well, but I've never liked the whole smile your way through everything awful ethos, and I really fucking hate it right now. See: Pandemic, and Trump's response to it. And so a song I was fine with last year now infuriates me.

The Jackson 5 – “I Want You Back” -- January 31, 1970

I'm skipping every Jackson 5 song. Little kids singing love songs for money and fame is bad enough, and I never liked any of these songs for that reason. But add in the baggage of what Michael Jackson did later, and how much did that have to do with him being forced into this position when he was a little kid, and I'm done. Let a child psychologist handle this. I'm not equipped.

Shocking Blue – “Venus” -- February 7, 1970

It's supposed to be "The goddess on the mountaintop," as anyone who heard the later Bananarama cover a whole bunch knows. But Mariska Veres is Dutch, and she sings "godness on the mountaintop" instead. Also Venus was technically on a mountaintop I guess, but I associate her more with a giant clamshell in the sea. I'm nitpicking. The song's got a great groove and Veres' voice is perfect for it. It's good.

Sly & The Family Stone – “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” -- February 14, 1970

I always thought this chorus was "Thank you for lettin' me be myself again." I'm not sure what the actual spelling is trying to communicate. I only just learned what the song is actually about: How the pop music industry sucks. I think. The only totally clear line is "Dyin' young is hard to take, sellin' out is harder." So maybe the spelling is a sarcastic jab at how no one is letting him be himself. But with the funk dancing beat, and the only lines that sound clear not actually being what they sound like, it's still not more than a really great party song.

Simon & Garfunkel – “Bridge Over Troubled Water” -- February 28, 1970

If I were a music critic, I'd get in trouble for this one. Bridge Over Troubled Water bores me to tears. It makes me feel like I'm stuck in glue. Aretha Franklin's rendition is significantly better, but I still don't like it. It's a nice sentiment and all, but I'll take the Four Tops for the same idea done far better, thanks.

The Beatles – “Let It Be” -- April 11, 1970

I hate toxic positivity. However, I very much like calming down and detaching from things you cannot control. The latter is what this song is about. It's about "Mother Mary," which obviously sounds like Jesus' mom, but it's actually about Paul's mom, who died when Paul was 14. When he was going through a tough time as an adult, he had a dream that she came to him and told him "let it be." John Lennon, being a dick as he so often was, didn't like the song, and called in Phil Spector to put massive layers of production in it. Later, Paul released "Let It Be... Naked," which was his original vision for the song. It's far better.

The Jackson 5 – “ABC” -- April 25, 1970

Pass.

The Guess Who – “American Woman” -- May 9, 1970

This song pisses me off. Obviously it's an entire song insulting American women, and as an American woman, I am not pleased, not that The Guess Who would care. And of course it's metaphorical, but why the fuck are American women the ones getting blamed for war machines? Because women are blamed for everything, that's why. Oh and also the song is incredibly repetitive, so even if it were a song about how great American women are, I would not like it.

Ray Stevens – “Everything Is Beautiful” -- May 30, 1970

There's a mob of small children, hide! That is my reaction to the beginning of this song. Past that -- okay, yes, everyone is beautiful in their own way. This song isn't though. It's the gloopiest of Christian "rock" before that was even a thing. It makes me shudder.

The Beatles – “The Long And Winding Road” -- June 13, 1970

Phil Spector splooges all over another Paul McCartney song. I never cared much for this song before I heard the "Naked" version, which gives me chills. How could anyone not open their door to this? But when it comes to the official single version, I'd tell him to take another trip around the block while I thought about it.

The Jackson 5 – “The Love You Save” -- June 27, 1970

Pass.

Three Dog Night – “Mama Told Me (Not To Come)” -- July 11, 1970

The lyrics are about how scary parties are. Which, um, yeah. Especially that cigarette part; I've always been drastically allergic to cigarettes, so that my parents had regular parties when I was a kid was really bad. I'm glad that people were going outside to smoke by the time I was in college. But the song. It's a party song in which the narrator hates parties. Pretty fun.

The Carpenters – “(They Long To Be) Close To You” -- July 25, 1970

Karen Carpenter's voice and singing ability were astounding. It's one of the great tragedies of music that she didn't get better songs. I do like this one, though. Yes, it's ridiculously sweet. But it has a beat and forward motion -- it's slow, but not turgid. The piano is nice. And, of course, there's Karen Carpenter's gorgeous voice, the most important thing about the song by far.

Bread – “Make It With You” -- August 22, 1970

Bread is wonderful. I love bread. But not the musical group Bread, which is like stale Wonder Bread rather than a delicious foodstuff. 70s easy listening managed to make sex sound boring. This song is one of the worst in that regard. If sex were like it seems to be in this song, I'd rather scrub grout.

Edwin Starr – “War” -- August 29, 1970

"War/ I despise/ It means destruction to innocent lives." Exactly. To say I love this song doesn't quite cover it. The song is the absolute truth, that's all.

Diana Ross – “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” -- September 19, 1970

The narrator's been dumped but whenever her ex needs her, she'll get to him any way she can. This version takes too long to get started, and then Ross speaks the verses instead of singing them. I don't like it at all. Give me Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's version instead, which also sounds like the narrators have a much more equal relationship.

Neil Diamond – “Cracklin’ Rosie” -- October 10, 1970

The song sounds like it's about a sex worker. It's not. It's about cheap wine. Also it's Neil Diamond. It's not boring, and I don't hate it, but I can't say I like it either. It's just sort of there.

The Jackson 5 – “I’ll Be There” -- October 17, 1970

*shudder* Pass.

The Partridge Family – “I Think I Love You” -- November 21, 1970

It starts in a minor key, waking up and suddenly realizing "I think I love you." But the narrator isn't quite ready to accept it. It's about a first love, and about how confusing the feeling is. Also there's a harpsichord. At the end, the narrator is asking if you think you love him too. I like it.

Smokey Robinson And The Miracles – “The Tears Of A Clown” -- December 12, 1970

He's pretending to be happy in public, but he doesn't want the woman who left him to think he's anything but miserable after she left him for some reason he doesn't know. He name-checks Pagliacci. Great Motown song. (The B-side of the single was "I Second That Emotion," which I like even better.)

George Harrison – “My Sweet Lord" -- December 26, 1970

Oh, George. I actually like his solo career better than that of any of the other Beatles, but his first big smash is not good. First, the melody is plagiarized from The Chiffon's "He's So Fine." Not inspired by or similar to or any of the other bullshit musical artists are getting sued over these days. It's a straight-up rip. George said he did it accidentally, and that absolutely can happen, but in this case I'm doubtful. The Beatles covered a whole lot of girl group songs at the beginning of their run. George knew girl groups. Second, he slowed down the melody, and so it is too slow, especially if you already know "He's So Fine." Third, it's about wanting to "know" some non-denominational New Agey all religions are really one religion type "Lord." That's a philosophy that I find confused at best. Very bad.

BEST OF 1970: "War"   WORST OF 1970: "My Sweet Lord"

[fulcrumahsokaamidala]

Saturday Spectacular #19

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

Hello friends, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. It’s been a crazy few months. This semester I started college and am getting an associate's degree in one year that means I’m taking 23 credits this fall term. It’s been a bit crazy but I’ve still been read fic so this what I’ve read since September 21. It’s not going to be in order.

light upon darkened dreams by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: After the events of 8x04, Oliver remains awake long into the night, getting lost in his thoughts about his children and Felicity. It's a good thing he isn't asleep, because he catches Mia suffering from a horrific nightmare. How can a father comfort his daughter from the future from a bad dream when they're still practical strangers to each other?

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

The Point of No Return by @oneofthosecrazygirls-fics | Arrow | Completed

Summary Oliver and Felicity prepare for their first date. This fic is part of the What Should’ve Been ‘verse, but can be read as a stand-alone fic.

Can’t Help Falling in Love by @smoaking-greenarrow | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Collection of fluff fics based on Tumblr prompts! Some are angsty, but most of this is fluffy. Enjoy!

Let the Light Shine Through by @griever11 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Your heart starts healing and it’s a slow process. After all, it’s been in shambles; sharp, cruel pieces of rubble lying on the bottom of your rib cage for so long. Wounds heal, as they say. They’ll scar, and they hurt, but they heal.

Baby Daddy by more0rLessJess | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Bartender Oliver Queen was living his twenties to the fullest, he lived with his best friend John Diggle, and his brother in everything but blood, Tommy Merlyn just moved into their apartment as he started his professional baseball career for the Starling City Rockets. On top of that, his childhood best friend Felicity Smoak, who was no longer goth and instead blonde and beautiful, was back in town and they were hanging out again. Oliver thought his days were going to be filled with partying, one night stands, and boys weekends while also spending quality time with the girl everyone kept telling him he was in love with. Until his ex girlfriend dropped a baby on his doorstep who turned out to be his son. After a lot of thought and Felicity Smoak peptalks, Oliver decides to keep and raise his son with the help of his friends. Or the Freeform sitcom Baby Daddy AU that no one asked for but I needed to write. Aka Oliver and Felicity are childhood friends and are hopelessly in love with eachother and everyone knows but them, oh and now they're raising a baby. What could go wrong?

call me my love, day or night by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: As Mia and William are enjoying their Monte Cristos, Oliver receives a phone call from somebody who is not Curtis. Somebody who is far, far more important.

and you'll blow us all away by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver desperately tries to connect with his daughter but it seems all he needed was a photograph and the memory of a woman both of them love more than anything. [Post-8x04 Oliver & Mia moment]

Fight To Live by CSM | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Post 803. Oliver's conversation with adult William and Mia does not go as planned and there is only one person that can help him. Takes places directly after the episode.

New York's Finest (Supernatural) Detectives by BillCipherpines | Brooklyn Nine-Nine & Shadowhunters | Completed

Summary: Jake Peralta is 100%, without a doubt, definitely sure that his friend Simon Lewis is a vampire. But when he sets out to prove it to his friends they get sucked into the world of Shadowhunters and realize that petty drug dealers are the least of New York's problems. But not to worry, New York's finest Shadowhunters are on the case

The Unlikeliest Places by @griever11 | Arrow | Completed

Summary: 'It all starts on an unassuming Friday evening. Or rather, if she’s being honest with herself, everything else in her life ends on that Friday.' 

An AU meeting fic where Felicity Smoak accidentally-on-purpose stumbles upon some shady activity as an IT tech for Queen Consolidated and realises that she really isn't being paid enough for any of this.

In Another Life (I could be your man) by angelicmisskitty | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Their lives couldn't be more different - and yet Oliver can't take his eyes off the beautiful blonde woman that leaves the subway every morning at 7.43am. There is something about her that makes him look up every morning - something that also makes him aware he'll never be good enough for her, or that she'd even notice him.

He had no idea how much his life would change the day he rushed over to help her...

Olicity AU - no Lian Yu, no saving the city (at least not in the way we know from Arrow :D )

Here At Last by thecomebackkids99 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: A 8x04 spec fic of what happens right after Mia, William, and Connor are transported to the bunker.

Against All Odds by CSM | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Post 3x14. Time Travel. Going back in time. Changing the future is not an exact science but he knows if anyone can do it, it’s her. If there is one thing Eleanor Queen can do, is be a hero. After all she has heroes’ blood pumping through her veins.

Lucas' Adventures by CSM | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Post 2x07. One late night in the foundry Oliver finds an abandoned baby, who he later finds out is his biological son, the only thing is the baby seems to think Felicity is his mother, which is impossible. Or is it? aka, Mia Smoak gets tired of her baby brother and sends him to 2013 where their unsuspecting parents find him. Companion piece to Impeccable Genetics.My contribution for the Olicity Summer Sizzle

“Time for a story” Drabble Series by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. It started as a drabble series, but developed more and more into a full domectic AU. Although some chapters are still drabble-like, there are longer storylines by now.

With You by @griever11 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Post 8x03 Leap of Faith. Oliver, William and Mia have a lot of feelings and in classic Queen fashion, have somewhat of a hard time expressing them. Oliver learns about the future and his kids try to make sense of the past.

in the here and now by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Set immediately post-8x03. “Dad?” Oliver stares in utter disbelief at the trio who have appeared on the bunker platform along with him in a blinding flash of light. For a good couple of seconds, his brain just… stops functioning. He’s so astonished that he can’t think, he can’t breathe, he can’t feel anything but shock.

The Blame Game by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: After they recover from their sudden appearance in the past, what's left of FTA still need to deal with what happened before they left. Mia and Connor both seek a moment of peace and Mia's brother and father are the guiding hand she needs as she feels like she's drowning.

There Are Two Sides to Every Story by @oneofthosecrazygirls-fics | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Susan Williams and Bethany Snow are two of Starling City’s most prominent journalists...but their styles are very different.This is a series of articles written by these two journalists from the time of the sinking of the Queen’s Gambit to the present day.**set in the What Should’ve Been ‘verse**

Campfire Stories by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Samantha has finally agreed to allow William to spend a month of his summer vacation with Oliver, Tommy, and Felicity. William asks to spend his first weekend with Oliver camping - alone. Oliver is more than a little nervous to spend time alone with his son when he still feels like a stranger.

The First Time by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Every love story has a beginning, theirs started with a death.

Home Is Where You Are by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity is away on business and missing home. Tommy surprises her with an unexpected visit.

The Italian Restaurant by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity, Oliver and Tommy go on their first date which leads to other firsts.

Cobble Hill by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Tommy surprises Oliver and Felicity with a proposal that will mark a milestone in their relationship.

Up All Night by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: After a close call in the field, Oliver and Felicity reconnect.

Will You Still Love Me, Tomorrow? by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Donna arrives for an unexpected visit and Felicity must decide if she is going to reveal the truth about her relationship with Oliver and Tommy.

Wherever You Are, There I Am by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: The history of Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn's relationship.

Burgers & Lies by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Tommy confronts Felicity about a secret she has been keeping.

Welcome Home by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity has been away for two weeks and missing her guys. Oliver and Tommy are very happy when she returns from her trip early.

Twenty Questions Over Brunch by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Thea has a few questions for Felicity about her relationship with Oliver and Tommy.

Look Me In The Eye And Make Me Feel The Truth by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: A night out in the public eye might be more than their relationship can take.

Three by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity hasn't been acting herself all week. Tommy and Oliver finally confront her and they aren't prepared for what she tells them.

Practical Jokes and Other Misunderstandings by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver and Tommy tell Thea about their relationship.

House Warming by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver, Felicity and Tommy celebrate their first night together in their new home.

Perfect by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity receives a call in the middle of the night from a distraught Tommy.

Nine to Five by @griever11​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: The new receptionist at Oliver's office is weird, quirky and really cute but totally not his type. At all. Or so he tells himself. An Arrow/The Office AU.

keep this love in a photograph by @alexiablackbriar13​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: An alternate 8x01 scene.Moira suspects that there is more to her son than meets the eye when Oliver returns home from the island after twelve years.When she catches him with the photo he's carrying around of him with Felicity Smoak and a baby, a confrontation and an emotional conversation ensue.

Mothers know best by @smkkbert​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together.After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still push for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else.

The Legacy of a Queen by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP 

Summary: Series of one-shots from a future AU where Oliver and Felicity are able to raise their children after they defeat the Ninth Circle and Oliver hangs up the hood

A Brother in Arms by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP 

Summary: “I just… she really found me and sent you here?” He asks quietly and John’s face morphs from concern into a sad smile as he nods.“Oliver, you know she’d be here herself if it weren’t for Mia.”“I… it’s been a week. She said she’d find me but I didn’t expect…” Missing moment from 8x01 where John and Oliver discuss Felicity finding Oliver and sending John to Earth-2 to help his brother.

Providence by @so-caffeinated | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she’ll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move… And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart.

What Are You Doing Here, Miss Queen? by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP 

Summary Sara Lance prides herself on knowing people, she gets them in a way a lot of others struggle with. So when a mysterious blonde shows up to help with the fight of their lives, Sara is surprised when there's something about her that she just can't put her finger on. That is until she figures out that this supposed 'Green Arrow from another earth' is actually Oliver's time-displaced daughter. [Sara sees straight through Mia's Crisis disguise, confronts her about what she's doing in the past, and forces father and daughter into a conversation that is clear they needed to have]

the true meaning of sacrifice by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Around five years after Crisis, Felicity is surprised and angry when a group of three heroes show up at her door demanding help from her.

i will find you again by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: a short-introspective on oliver in s8 inspired by the scene in the trailer as he takes a moment to remember the reason he's fighting. his wife, his children... they give him the strength he needs to be the hero the universe requires

Paging Dr. Smoak by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver Queen gets into a car accident, he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak. He had no idea how much a chance meeting would change his life.

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) by @alexiablackbriar13​ | Arrow | Completed  Summary: Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir.Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

time falls away (in these small hours) by @alexiablackbriar13​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Missing scene and side-story oneshots and drabbles set within my S5 post-bunker sex AU little wonders (twists and turns of fate). (Will contain spoilers) Summary for little wonders: Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir. 

Must be what I need by Nerdofmanytalents | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Thea gets to meet the reason for her brother's preoccupation of late. Its both exciting and terrifying.

Hawkins: The Upside by allonsysilvertongue | Stranger Things | WIP

Summary: A collection of one shots featuring Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper.Recent Update: "I think you're beautiful."

Welcome to Starling Prep Elementary by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | Completed

Summary: When William Clayton and Adalyn Smoak bond over being the two new kids in Starling Prep Elementary's first-grade class, their parents are not prepared for what comes of their children's friendship. Plus, it doesn't hurt that both Oliver and Felicity are single.

Our Version of Events by @machawicket​ & @geneeste​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Action star Ollie Queen is trying to clean up his image and land parts that require him to do more than appear shirtless while fighting stuntmen. Pop star Felicity Smoak wants to be seen as an adult in time for the release of her new, grittier album. And talent manager John Diggle’s got an idea about what coverage of Oliver and Felicity’s brand new (and totally fake) romance could do for them both.

Workouts and Babbles by @elasticmonk​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver comes to the rescue of one cute blonde at his gym just as Felicity stumbles upon one handsome mayor at her gym. They both have something in common, but will it bring them happiness?

Bodyguard by originalhybridlover | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity needs a new bodyguard and Diggle referred her to an old friend, Oliver Queen. Unknowingly she meets the man she would one day marry.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

@hope-for-olicity @emdee8907 @malafle @laxit21 @icannotbelieveiamhere

[getoutofthewater]

[Detroit: Become Human Fanfic] Cloudburst

Rating: T

Warnings: Murder, horror elements

Chapters: 5/5 | Words: 21,549  [AO3]

Notes: A mystery/ghost story, vaguest 50′s setting, human AU. Not focused on ships, but there’s some Gavin/Leo and a bit of Markus/Simon. Main povs are Gavin, Tina and Leo.

Summary: When Gavin Reed agrees to drive his cousin Elijah Kamski to the Manfred Manor there’s no way for him to foresee the strange night that awaits them. 

                                                        CHAPTER 1 

“You have to come with me” Elijah Kamski said into the phone

“Why the fuck would I?” his cousin growled, never shy to show his annoyance and aggravation

“To do me a favor”

Skeptical silence was all that was heard on the other side of the line

“Come on, Gavin!” Elijah insisted “There will be good food and expensive booze, you can bring a plus one…” he added uselessly

“Can’t your girl go with you?”

“We have talked about this,” Elijah almost huffed “Chloe is not my girl, and she’s been at her sisters’ for the past month, as she should after what happened with her mother, any news on that by the way”

“If there were I couldn’t tell you,” Gavin barked “but no…”

Elijah huffed in frustration, not that he was expecting a different answer, was it too early to expect results from the police? Or was the case going cold? Not something he could simply ask his cousin without ruffling his feathers, not ideal when he wanted a favor

“So,” Elijah continued “if she were feeling like making it she would have contacted me already, I don’t want to press her at a time like this, but I don’t feel like arriving by myself… or leaving the villa by myself either…” he said in a desperate attempt to use the truth as a hook

There was a defeated groan at the other side of the line; his cousin was not as though as he’d like everyone to think

“Phck!” Gavin said “Listen, I’m picking you up and dropping you off, and that’s it”

“Fair enough” Elijah replied

“Whatever, see you tomorrow” Gavin slammed down the receiver, just like Elijah to drag him into something bothersome like this with such short notice.

“Who are you seeing tomorrow?” Tina asked curiously, sitting at his kitchen table, one of his cats sat on her lap, advising her on their match of Gin Rummy

“Fucking Elijah wants me to be his chauffeur” He replied moodily, sitting opposite to her, picking up his cards again

“Where is the genius going?” she said drawing a card

“The Manfred Manor”

“That’s fancy!”

“Is it?” Gavin asked without any real interest, more focused on his cards than in the conversation

“They say the Manfred Manor is incredible” Tina said enthusiastically “Carl Manfred has collected all sort of amazing things”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in knick knacks and curios”

“Everyone but you is interested in Carl Manfred’s curious” Tina chided “The man is a legend, he’s traveled all over the world, he’s been a recluse ever since his accident but of course your cousin gets an invitation!”

Gavin sighed “Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, sure” Tina said with a small laugh

“I’m serious, he said I could bring some other damn idiot”

Tina instantly brightened up “I’d love to be that damn idiot!”

“We start at 5,” Gavin said drily “I’m not dealing with the morning rush and it’s 2 hours just to reach his freaking bunker, who knows how much more to reach Manfred’s”

“Perfect,” Tina smiled “Gin!” she called out fanning her cards over the table and scratching the cat’s head

“Phck,”

They started on their way in the dark and cold of the very early morning; Tina soon fell asleep only waking up when the morning sun hit her uncomfortably right in the face, she sat upright in the passenger seat, ironing the fabric of her trousers with her hands, belatedly wondering if she should have put on a dress instead, but she only had the pink cotton she’d worn to her nephew’s christening; it wasn’t unflattering, her mother knew how to pick a dress that’d favor her daughter, but she didn’t recognize herself in it, it made her feel awkward and uncomfortable, things she usually wasn’t at all.

When they arrived to the Kamski Villa, it was everything Gavin said it would be, uncomfortably sterile and silent. Tina was glad they weren’t staying around, Gavin’s place could be messy, and hers could be noisy, but she always thought they felt comfortably lived in, places where she could relax and feel at home, either dancing by herself in her own apartment or reading in Gavin’s couch with two or three cats piled on her, card games on fridays; if she was being honest the Villa left an odd taste in her mouth she hoped wouldn’t carry on to the Manor. She was really looking forward to that.

As they came back outside with Elijah in tow, she rushed to take the back seat while the boys put Elijah’s luggage in the back, leaving the cousins in the front seemed adequate since Elijah would need to guide Gavin to their final destination, she relinquished her usual shotgun without complaint.

“Thank you for taking care of my cousin, Miss Chen” Elijah Kamski said to her once they were on the road

“It’s not an easy job!” she chirped

“I can’t imagine it would be” Elijah huffed.

Gavin growled

“And please, Tina is just fine” she added ignoring him

“Elijah” he said turning on his seat to give her a handshake

“I see your girl has been teaching you manners” Gavin mocked

“She’s not my girl” Elijah said “and yes… she has…”

“I bet that’s not an easy job either” Tina said

“Elijah is worse than me, that’s for sure”

“I hope not!“ Elijah said “That’s a horrid thought!”

The city gave way to the country side, the sight of houses became more and more rare until they found themselves driving with only the sight of trees at either side, all of them in the cozy copper and reds of autumn, although the strong wind and the grey clouds rolling in and looking almost like smoke from a fire forecasted a storm

“Why couldn’t that fucking geezer live in civilization” Gavin complained, not one to enjoy an atmospheric view

“Is it true that he doesn’t leave the Manor at all?” Tina asked

“I’m afraid so” Elijah said “He used to live in the city, he was quite social, I’m told he had many wild parties. The Manor was only meant as a summer house, but after his accident he holed up in it”

“Guess you can relate” Gavin huffed

“I sure can” Elijah replied completely unbothered. That he was a well known recluse did not bother him, he was a young man but his patents and inventions were making him more than enough money for him to give himself the luxury of not holding back on any of his misanthropic tendencies.

Elijah frowned, then opened his mouth as if to say something else but seemed to think better of it, not that Gavin would let him get away with it. Gavin looked at Tina through the rear view mirror, their routine taking over. He’d let her do the talking on crime scenes all the time, she was good at putting people at ease, and people at ease tended to talk.

“Is anything the matter?” Tina asked  

“I was just… thinking…” Elijah said with a light scowl “this invitation is slightly odd”

“How so?” Tina added

Elijah shook his head dismissing the idea and remained silent.

Tina and Gavin exchanged a look, they would let it go for now, they had good instincts cultivated by years of training and police work. They knew it was something worth pursuing later, but right now they wouldn’t get anything more.

“Oh! Look!” Tina said, pointing at a hitchhiker down the road, a welcome distraction “We should give him a ride, we are in the middle of nowhere, and those clouds look like the sky will start falling any second”

“I’m already the chauffer for one person, I’m not fucking taking anyone else anywhere!” Gavin spat, even pushing down on the accelerator, unwittingly splashing muddy ditch water on the hitchhiker (unwittingly because Tina always gave Gavin the benefit of the doubt, if she didn’t who on earth would)

“What the hell, fucktard?!” the hitchhiker shouted, if for nothing else than to relieve some of his frustration with the day… the week… the month… the year… his life in general… the first car he’d seen in hours drove away completely unconcerned, and now Leo was muddy and wet and cold…

“Shit!” he slung his rucksack over his shoulder in a careless, rough movement, only managing to unbalance himself, his foot twisted painfully and he fell

“Fucking dammit!” Leo scrambled up, now he was muddy and wet and cold and he’d probably sprained his fucking ankle.

He started walking, now with a newly acquired limp, excellent, but if he waited for another car it could take all day, and wouldn’t it be just like him to die freezing in the woods, or mauled by bears? Or whatever else could happen to you in the woods during a storm, Unknown Man Dead by Freak Lighting Strike (page 30). And hadn’t some people disappeared around here or something creepy like that only a few weeks back? Leo thought he’d heard something, a voice? A scream? Well you always heard all sort of weird noises coming from the woods, foxes were odd little shits always screaming like murder victims.

A cold shiver ran down his back at the thought, and he became aware of how alone he was. If he were to be ambushed and killed right here, right now, nobody would hear him. If he was buried right under that tree with the creepy face-like trunk nobody would even think of searching for him. Markus would only think he’d dismissed the invitation, and to tell the truth that had been Leo’s initial plan.

It seemed almost insulting, a letter from Markus (not even his dad) telling him his dad was planning to have this get together, the first since his accident “I hope you’d like to join us, I’ve heard you are doing so much better now and –“ Leo hadn’t read the rest before scrunching it and throwing it in the paper basket.

He’d dragged himself out of his addiction all by himself, he wasn’t doing “so much better”; he was only barely getting by and keeping away from trouble, he owed like 3 months’ rent because most of his money went to cover old, dangerous debts. He was hungry all the time, he could barely make his bills although his job as a clerk in a bookshop wasn’t all that bad, he was trying to write something as well, that was going alright.

The day before this get together farce he sensed he was about to be kicked out of his apartment, before that could happen he’d grabbed everything he could fit in his rucksack, anything important, told Mr. Doel at the bookshop he would be out of town for a week visiting his ailing father (none of this a lie) and he’d hitchhiked with some farmers as far as they could take him.

And now he was here, essentially because he had nowhere else to go, and there was always that idiotic sliver of himself, that truly stupid yearning buried deep inside him that told him, maybe, maybe his dad would like him better this once.

He’d been walking for a few minutes on his newly injured ankle when a pickup truck slowed down beside him. Leo eyed it suspiciously, an older man was at the wheel, a second one, only slightly older than Leo sat on the passenger seat. Leo smiled at them in relieved recognition.

“Where you going, son? Not getting up to trouble are you?” Lieutenant Anderson said, as his big saint bernard peeked outside the window, drooling all over the side of the car “Hell, Sumo! Let me talk to the kid!” he said placing his hand on the dog’s head softly

“Not this time… I hope” Leo replied with a sheepish smile “Do you know the Manfred Manor?” he asked “It’s okay if you aren’t going that far I’ll take what I can get”

“We are going past it, to the lake” Connor said

“Connor!” Hank chided in fond exasperation “He doesn’t need to know our life story”

“I think it’s only fair when he’s shared his destination with us, Hank”

“Fine, fine” Hank said, “If you are sure you wanna go there, hop right on the back, son. Too much dog in the front to fit another person”

“Thanks a lot!” Leo said with a smile, swinging his rucksack on to the cargo bed and then climbing in himself, awkwardly trying not to put much pressure on his bad ankle. He took his beanie off to feel the wind going through his hair, the clusters of trees, the crisp autumn chill and the wind that already smelled like water seemed much friendlier now that he had company and he was in a car, with the trees passing by in a blur not giving him time to imagine creepy faces in them.

“Look, Hank” Connor said after a few minutes, pointing at a car at the side of the road “I believe that’s Detective Reed”

“Just pretend you don’t see him, Connor!” Hank said gruffly “We are already late and I’m not stopping again”

“Are you sure, Hank? “

“He’ll be fine, look he aint alone, got Chen and some other twit with ‘im”

Gavin looked up to see the passing car, not soon enough to see it was Hank and Connor’s but just in time to see the hitchhiker in the back flipping him off.

“Fucking –“ Gavin said giving the middle finger back to the now empty road

“You sort of deserve it” Tina said, sitting sideways on the driver’s seat “I’m pretty sure that was Leo Manfred too” she smirked

“Yeah, right” Gavin glared at her, then directed his words to his cousin “So, can you do something about the engine or what?”

“I’m trying to concentrate” Elijah said drily as he tinkered under the hood “Cars are not my specialty but I’m sure I can figure it out”

Gavin left him to it, he knew plenty about motorcycles but not that much about cars, plus the fucking genius may leave it better than he found it, didn’t hurt having Elijah doing some actual work for once either.

“Try it” Elijah said, Tina complied turning the key in the ignition; the engine came alive with a loud roar that hid the faint, distant ghostly voices trying to tell them they should go back.

[angelsfalling16]

Acting Up - Simon’s POV

Requested by Anon

Summary: Simon and Baz are actors on a tv show, but they can’t seem to get along. They are given the weekend to learn how to get along or one of them will be fired.

Word Count: 5913

Read Baz’s POV  |  Read it on ao3

Thank you @wo2ash for beta reading!! You were a big help!

Simon

“Penny,” I hiss, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her off to the side. “When you told me about this show, you didn’t tell me that he was the lead in it.”

“I—.”

“You also didn’t tell me that I was going to have to work with him.”

“Come on, Simon. It’s a good job. And if they like you enough, it might become a more permanent role.”

“And have to work with him more? No, thank you.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Are you kidding me? Every week, he’s on the front page of a gossip magazine with some new girl, looking like the bad boy who just dates around.”

He’s just like the character that he plays in this tv show. With his long, dark hair and piercing grey eyes, he sets every girl’s heart aflutter, and then he strings them along until someone better comes along. He doesn’t actually care about any of them.

I used to believe that it was all just his character, but the more that I read about him, the more I saw that he really does act that way. Like he’s better than everyone else and could date anyone he wanted.

Of course, I had heard of this show before, and I’ve seen bits and pieces of it. I just didn’t know that it was the one that I was auditioning for a part in, and I’m pretty sure that Penny purposely kept that bit of information from me.

She doesn’t understand what I have against a guy I’ve never worked with before, but she does know how much I can’t stand Baz Pitch, which is why I don’t know why she would do this to me.

If it was just a part on the show he’s the star of, that would have been one thing, but it’s more than that. I’m supposed to be playing this guy who comes along and suddenly changes the course of his life all within three episodes. It’s almost laughable because there is no world in which Baz could ever change his personality. Or his character, I mean. There’s no way that one person could veer his life so far off course that he becomes a decent guy. That only happens in fairy tales.

“And that’s why you dislike him?” Penny asks skeptically. “Because he dates a bunch of girls?”

“What? No. B-Because he treats them like they’re replaceable, like they don’t mean anything to him. That’s awful.”

“That’s all?”

“Well he’s also tall, dark, mysterious, the bad boy of every girl’s dream.” I’m no longer sure what point I’m trying to make is because it sounds like I’m just describing him instead of giving evidence of all of his shortcomings.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes at me. “And if this was a book, he’d be the byronic hero.”

“You think he’s a hero?”

She sighs. “No, but I do think you treat him like a book character you’ve heard about from other people but haven’t actually read the book he’s in.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You don’t know anything about him, but you’ve already judged him. Maybe if you got to know him, you’d like him.”

“I highly doubt that.”

She gives me a look like she wants to argue it more, but then she seems to change her mind and settles for just shaking her head at me, which is almost just as effective.

“Fine, but you still need this job.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I’m beginning to sound like a child pouting when they don’t get their way.

“You don’t have to like the guy in order to like the job.”

“I know.” I sigh because she’s right. I need the job, and I barely even know the guy, so it isn’t fair of me to judge him so harshly.

“You don’t even have to talk to him.”

I start to object, but she shushes me.

“I mean, you don’t have to talk to him outside of saying your lines.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, feeling just a tiny bit hopeful but knowing that it’s much too late.

“Not really.”

“Then, yes. I’ll do it.”

“Fantastic.”

I grimace. This will be far from fantastic.

***

Penny was wrong. Not only was taking this job a big mistake, but it isn’t easy to just ignore the guy that you share most of your scenes with. I can’t just ignore him, and after this morning’s run, I’m definitely going to have to talk to him outside of saying my lines. That, or get fired.

The executive producer gave us an ultimatum. Either we spend the weekend together and find a way to get along or he’ll find someone else for the job.

I’m not sure why this requires us to spend the entire time together without any separation. I mean, if we can barely spend half the day together without getting into several horrible arguments, how do they expect us to get through two full days together and make it out alive?

Maybe they don’t. Maybe they’re expecting me to quit so that they won’t have to fire me.

Well, I won’t give in, and I won’t question this decision. I refuse to quit and let Baz win, so I am at least going to try to get along with him.

We’ve been told that we have until Monday morning to find a way to work together, or else. Of course, that ‘or else’ means that I’ll be fired and replaced with someone else. Baz is one of the main characters. They can’t fire him, or there’d be a riot from his adoring fans.

I thought that I could find a way to get over how much I don’t like him, but his reaction to me was just as bad. He knows nothing about me, yet, he already appears to have made his mind up about me.

He took one look at me on my first day on set, and after making a look of disgust, he turned away and refused to make eye contact with me again until the scene we were filming called for it. Even then, he didn’t look like he was pleased by it.

We’ve only been working together for a few days, and I’m already about to get fired. And it’s all his fault.

Baz Pitch, the boy of every girl’s dream, hates me.

It’s Friday afternoon, and we have basically been kicked off set because we can’t go five minutes without getting into an argument. I usually try to be professional, but something about him just gets under my skin, and I feel my emotions exploding. I should be surprised that they didn’t just fire me.

I tear a hand through my hair, frustrated. This isn’t fair. I should just quit while I’m ahead, but it was hard enough to get this job, and I need money. So, I’m just going to have to suck it up and find a way to get along with Baz.

I look at the way that he’s furiously texting someone, and I know that it’s definitely going to be easier said than done.

I lean against a wall with my arms crossed while I wait for him to finally decide to grace me with his presence. I probably haven’t be waiting all that long, but I still act like he has kept me waiting for much longer.

“Finally. Where have you been?” I’m suddenly aware of how I’m acting, like someone whose date has left them waiting for too long and is demanding to know why they were late.

He looks at me like I’m crazy, and I’m beginning to feel that way a bit. Why does he bring out this reaction in me?

He ignores my question and asks one of his own. “Are you ready to go?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“I have an apartment in town,” he says, once again ignoring my question. “We can spend the weekend there and hopefully find a way to get along.”

I want to ask him why he cares. Wouldn’t it be easier for him if I just got fired? Then, he would no longer have to deal with me.

“Why at your place?” I ask, knowing that I’m only going to start yet another argument.

“Do you want to get fired?”

“No, but I don’t know why we can’t go to my place.”

“Fine, let’s do that. Where do you live?”

That’s when I remember how much of a mess and how run-down my place is. Plus, I share it with Penny, so taking Baz there probably wouldn’t be the best idea.

I sigh. “No, we’ll go to yours. I just need to go get some of my things first.”

He nods, and we walk out together not talking until he gives me his address and phone number (in case I get lost, which definitely felt like a jab at me.) Then, we part ways, which should feel nice, but I just feel weighed down with knowledge that I’m going to have to deal with his judgmental looks and snide remarks all weekend.

Luckily, Penny isn’t home when I get there, so I can get away with just leaving her a note instead of having to explain it to her in person.

She won’t be happy about this, and I’ll probably get an angry phone call tonight from her demanding to know why I didn’t tell her what was going on. But I can deal with that later.

Right now, I have to deal with Baz.

***

When Baz said that he had an apartment, I expected it to be small since  he’s the only one who lives there, but I was mistaken. It’s more like a small house, and I’m pretty sure it is at least three times the size of mine and Penny’s apartment.

He gives me a tour of the place, and I’m speechless about how nice it is. The furniture is pretty sparse, but I suppose if it’s just him living here, he doesn’t need much.

He shows me the guest bedroom that I can sleep in before telling me to make myself at home. I’m not sure whether he wants me to stay in this room and make myself at home here or if I’m allowed to wander around his apartment.

I decide to stay in the room to avoid talking to him, so we barely talk the first night that I’m at his place. There’s so much tension between us that I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll just go off on him about absolutely nothing. That won’t do us any good, so I choose not to say anything at all.

It’s getting late, and I’d be content to stay in this room all weekend—screw the job—but I’m starving.

I open the door slowly and glance out into the hall, hoping that he’s already gone to bed so that I won’t run into him. The coast seems clear, so I quietly pad down the hall and back towards the kitchen that we passed through when Baz gave me a quick tour of the place.

He said that I was welcome to anything in it, but I feel weird digging around in his kitchen looking for food. I open the fridge, and I don’t know why, but I’m surprised to find that it’s fully stocked. There is plenty to choose from, but I don’t want to cook anything.

I zero in on something that goes great with anything, cooked or not, and pull it out. Butter.

“Oh,” a quiet voice says behind me, and I spin around with the tub of butter in my hand, feeling guilty for some reason. “Sorry, I just came to get something to drink.”

“Why are you apologizing?” I attempt to sound angry, or at least annoyed, but it’s undermined by the blush that creeps onto my face as he glances at the tub cradled tightly in my arms. “I-I was just going to make something to eat.”

“I can make you something.”

“Oh... No, you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of cooking for myself.”

He studies me for a moment, looking like he’s trying to come up with some kind of retort, but he seems to change his mind. “Alright. Well, goodnight.”

I notice that he leaves without the drink that he came for, and I feel a bit guilty for keeping him from it. It’s absolutely ridiculous, and I shouldn’t even care.

I shake myself, hoping to rid myself of that feeling, and return the butter to the fridge, deciding to make something else. I pull other items from the fridge, meat and cheese and grapes, and I make myself a plate of food and a glass of water, which I eat quickly while standing there at the counter.

After putting it all away, I retreat back down the hall. With a lingering glance at Baz’s closed bedroom door, I return to the guest room and climb into bed. Maybe I can just sleep all weekend. That might be nice.

***

Sleeping all weekend definitely isn’t going to work. I couldn’t sleep at all last night.

I don’t like being in new places, especially not ones where I don’t feel very welcome, and I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. I was restless all night and wanted to get up and walk around, but I was worried about running into Baz again.

It’s almost noon now, and I still haven’t left the room, not even to go the bathroom, which is now becoming a pressing matter. I tear a hand through my hair, weighing my options, but I don’t really have any. Sighing, I grab some clothes from my bag and tiptoe across the hall to the bathroom, feeling relieved when I don’t see him.

I dress as quickly as possible, and in my rush to get back across the hall, I don’t see Baz walking in my direction and crash right into him.

“Oh, sorry,” I mumble, avoiding looking up at him.

“It’s fine,” he says, bringing his hand up to steady me. “I was actually just coming to check on you.”

“Why?” I know that I sound rude, but why does he care? His hand falls away like it’s been burned, and he looks away from my glare.

“Because you’re my guest. And I made lunch if you’re hungry.”

Wow, I really am a jerk. Here I am biting his head off for no reason, and he made lunch for me. Or, he made lunch and is offering me some. Whatever. Maybe he actually wants to try to working things out between us. I should at least give him a chance.

“Okay,” I say softly, an apology for how rude I was before. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

I duck around him and into the guest room, shutting the door behind me and then leaning against it, trying to slow my racing heart.

I shouldn’t have this reaction just from bumping into him, but it doesn’t seem to be something that I can control either. I’m going to have to work harder to avoid him if I don’t want him to realize that there’s something up. And in order to do that, I’m going to have to play it cool and go eat lunch with him.

***

Lunch actually isn’t that bad. Baz and I don’t talk, but that means we don’t fight either. I’m just about to disappear back to the guest room, having had enough of the heavy silence between us, when he suggests that we go into the sitting area and watch tv and talk. I start to open my mouth to protest when he interrupts me.

“Is it really so bad to hang out with me?” For a moment, I think that he sounds a little bit hurt, but then I look up to meet his eyes and see that he just looks annoyed.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know you.”

“That’s the whole point of this weekend. We’re supposed to talk and get to know each other and find out whether we’ll be able to get along.”

“Fine,” I relent, and I find myself following him into the other room.

The only place to sit is a couch that is rather small, which means that we’ll be sitting really close to each other. Unless I sit on the floor, which seems like a good option but probably won’t win me any points with him, so I sit as far to one side as I can, and he sits on the other side. I wonder briefly why he doesn’t have a larger couch or more furniture in such a large space, but I decide that it’s none of my business. It’s his home, and he can choose to decorate it however he wants.

It’s a little slow-going and awkward at first as we search for something to talk about, but after a few failed attempts on both sides to find a topic, we finally settle on something.

I notice a picture of his family that hangs on the wall, and I ask him about them. He talks quite a bit about his younger sister, and I avoid talking about my family, or lack thereof, altogether. He talks about how he hates being far away from them, and he can’t wait until the show goes on hiatus so that he can visit them.

He actually seems like a decent guy, which makes trying to hate him more difficult. I want to hate him, but I don’t. I want to pretend like I don’t want to move closer to him and see if his hair is as soft as it looks. I want to pretend like my eyes aren’t continually drawn to his lips. I want to pretend like I’m not just another person fawning over his looks and wishing to be that person he takes out on dates around town.

I want to pretend like the real reason that I pretend not to like him isn’t to cover up how much I admire him and how jealous of those girls I am.

After we finally manage to start talking, it’s like we can’t stop. We swap stories about different sets we’ve worked on and the people we’ve worked with. Whenever he brings up one of his female coworkers, an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach, and my smile begins to falter. I push through it, though, because it’s starting to feel like we could actually be friends, and I really don’t want to lose this job.

I thought it would be difficult to work with him, but I’m finding that it’s even harder to be around him when we’re not working.

I’m not trying to remember my lines, and he’s not focused on anything else. His focus is solely on me, and I feel special as his warm gaze never wavers. Then, I start to wonder if he makes everyone feel this way, and that feeling comes back.

We could never be friends because I would never stop being jealous. But we can be coworkers. I can get over it enough to manage that.

***

We order pizza for dinner and eat it on the couch, laughing and talking like we’re old friends.

But I should have known that it wouldn’t last. Or, more accurately, I should have realized that I would eventually say something to screw it up.

“So, which girl did you have to blow off in order to spend sixty uninterrupted hours with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You probably had a date this weekend. You know, before you got stuck with me.”

“I didn’t get stuck with you. I actually—.”

“I guess you’ll just make it up to her next week. Or maybe you’ll have moved on to the next girl by then.”

“Wait. You think that I want to go out with all of those girls?”

“Don’t you?”

“No. It’s part of some publicity stunt to make everyone think that there’s a bit of my character in me.”

“They want people to think you’re a womanizer?”

He frowns, his forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows come together.

“No. They want me to seem charming and like all the girls love me. So, every couple of weeks, I get to go on ‘dates’ with whoever they deem fit.”

“Why don’t they just let you pick the girls you go out with? What difference would it make?”

He snorts indignantly at that. “If I were to choose who I got to go out with, it definitely wouldn’t be a girl.”

“Oh.” My heart does a little flip at that, but I try not to let on of how I feel about it. It makes me see him differently, but I don’t want him to know that. Not when we’re being forced together like this.

“I shouldn’t have told you that. You already hate me. Now, you’ve got something to take to the press.”

“What? I would never—.”

“Whatever. I guess I couldn’t keep it a secret from the public forever. I just hope it doesn’t get me fired.”

“Baz, wait,” I say as he stands up and looks as though he’s about to just walk out of the room.

He shakes his head and starts pacing back and forth across the carpet that lies between the couch I’m on and the television. He continues murmuring to himself about being stupid and about something being a mistake. He ignores me again when I try to get his attention, so I do the first thing that I can think of.

I get up off the couch, and stand in front of him, blocking his path.

“Move,” he sneers.

“No.”

“What is your problem?”

“You.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. I mean, you used to be my problem. But not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“Everything. Getting to know you makes me see you differently.”

“What? You pity me now because I have to hide my identity from everyone?”

“No. I mean, yeah, that’s awful, but I get it.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand it.”

“I’m keeping a secret from my best friend. I want to tell her, but I’m afraid of how she’ll react.”

“Are you secretly in love with her and don’t know how to tell her? Because I promise you that’s not as bad as this.”

“What? No. I’m not in love with her. She has a boyfriend, and she’s the closest thing that I have to family.”

“Then, what’s your secret?”

“We just met a couple of days ago, and you want me to tell you one of my biggest secrets?”

“You know mine.”

I find that logic faulty, but I don’t say that to him. I chew on my lip for a moment, trying to decide whether I should tell him or not. He watches me, and when he opens his mouth to say something, I blurt it out.

“I like guys.”

His mouth snaps shut.

“At least I think I do.”

He frowns again. “You think you do?”

“Well, I’ve never dated a guy before, but I feel the same way about them that I do about girls. I just don’t know how to tell my friend that.”

“You tell her what you just told me, and if she’s really your friend, she won’t care.”

“I don’t want to lose her. She’s all I have,” I admit.

“Now that’s just sad.” He says it like he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Shut up,” I say with the smallest of smiles.

“Make me.”

My eyes widen, and we just stare at each other for a moment, both of us waiting for the other to move. I want to take that to mean that he wants me to kiss him, but I don’t want to be wrong. If I kiss him and he doesn’t want me to, he could probably get me kicked off of this show.

That might be for the best anyway.

The silence draws on for much too long before he seems to shake himself and turns away.

“I’m going to bed,” he murmurs. He doesn’t turn back to look at me as he walks away, and I don’t go after him.

***

Baz and I awkwardly tiptoe around each other throughout the morning, avoiding eye contact and apologizing when we move past each other even though we don’t even bump arms.

I want to retreat back to the guest room, but I also want to try to find a way to get back to how we were last night. I want to see that friendly side of Baz again. I want to bring the warmth back to his eyes and the smile back to his face. Gosh, that smile is beautiful.

I think it’s my fault that we’ve gone back to barely tolerating each other. I didn’t respond to him last night, and then, he took off.

I’m still not sure what he wanted, but I do know that silence wasn’t the right response. Now, I have to try to find a way to make things right.

“I can’t take this anymore.” I’m surprised when he’s the one who breaks the silence.

We’re sitting on the couch, and the tv isn’t even on. We’re just sitting in silence, trying not to look at each other. I look at him now but don’t say anything, so he keeps talking.

“I thought we were getting somewhere. I’m sorry about what I said last night. Can we just... Is there anyway you can forget it and we can go back to being friendly?”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I scared you away.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re the one who walked out.”

“Because you stopped talking. I felt like a fool.”

“I was surprised. I needed a moment to process and to figure out what you meant by it.”

“I didn’t mean anything, and if I could, I would take it back.”

“Oh.” That shouldn’t hurt so much. “Okay. It’s forgotten then.”

“Thank you. So, can we go back to the way we were?”

I nod. Then, instead of just letting it go, I ask, “What do you have against me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He says, and he sounds serious.

“Ever since we met, you can barely stand to be in the same room with me.”

“That’s not true. I was having a rather pleasant time yesterday.”

“Only because you were forced to.”

“I wasn’t forced—. You know what? Never mind.” He pauses. “And what about you? You hated me before you even met me!”

“I didn’t hate you. I just—.”

“You just what?”

“I was jealous, okay?”

“Of me?”

“No!” I say, frustrated, but I’m not sure who with. Him for not understanding, or me for not being able to say this where he’ll understand. “Of those girls. And then I hated myself for being jealous because you didn’t even seem to care about them, so why would I want to be someone you didn’t mind just casting away like they were nothing? I hate that I find you attractive, and I hate that I have to lie to my best friend about it.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Of course that’s what you focus on.” I try to keep the hurt out of my voice, but I don’t think I do a very good job of it. I turn away from him so that it won’t be able to see it in my face as well.

“Wait, Simon.”

I shake my head and look away, staring hard at a point on the wall.

“Simon,” he repeats, softer this time. Then, I feel his hand underneath my chin, and he’s using two of his fingers to gently turn my face up to his. “I’m sorry that I’m so terrible at this. I-I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” I ask, and he drops his hand. I notice now that he has moved towards me on the couch, and I want him even closer.

“Talked to someone who I like. All those girls I go out with? Yeah, maybe they find me attractive, but I don’t see them that way. And maybe I’ve been attracted to guys before, but I’ve never been allowed to act on it. I had to play the boy that girls fall over themselves to get to, and I’ve never been allowed to be me.” He takes in a shaky breath, and I can see how much this has gotten to him. He really hates this part of his job. “I like you, though. The moment that you stepped foot on set, I knew that I was screwed.”

“You glared at me. I thought you were disgusted by me.”

“No. I was just mad at myself because the first thing that I noticed about you was how stunning you are with your blue eyes and messy hair.”

“You insulted my hair,” I say, smiling despite myself.

“To throw you off. I couldn’t very well compliment you in front of everyone.”

“You could have been nicer.”

“Ah, but then you might have thought I liked you.” He slides a bit closer to me as he speaks.

“No, I would have thought you were a decent human being.” I move, too, just a bit so that our hands resting on the couch nearly brush.

“Are you saying I’m a terrible person?” He asks, turning his body towards mine, so I do the same, our knees almost bumping against each other.

“I’m saying that you hid how nice you really are. You know, we could have avoided being stuck together in your apartment had you just been nice that first day.”

“Oh, so you don’t like being here.”

“I didn’t say that.” I murmur, leaning towards him.

“Good,” he says as he rests his hand on my shoulder. Then, he leans in closer to whisper in my ear, “I like you here.”

“Yeah?” I gasp, quietly reaching out to wrap my arms around his waist.

“Yes,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to my cheek. “But if you don’t want to be here, you are free to go.”

He starts to pull away, truly giving me the chance to leave, but I quickly pull him back to me.

“I want to stay.” Then, I kiss him, preventing any more arguments between us. It’s soft and slow and oh, so perfect.

***

Epilogue

It’s been months since Baz and I kissed that first time, and we have managed to get along pretty well. Really well actually.

I’ve been made a recurring guest star on the show, and the fans seem to love our character’s dynamic. I don’t know how long I’ll be kept on the show, but I’m glad that I was able to stay. I’m even more glad that we’re a couple.

Baz still goes on those fake dates with the fans, and our relationship is still a secret to most people. It has made me a little insecure about our relationship to see him kissing other people on the show. The jealousy got even worse when the media snapped a photo of one of the girls kissing him on a fake date. It’s okay, though, because I know that none of it means anything to him.

Recently, he has been talking about stopping the fake dates, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still has to kiss the girl in the show. At least it’s only one girl now. My character did their job in changing him, making him realize that settling down with one person would be better than dating around. Maybe they could even use that for the publicity if we ever came out with our relationship. I only wonder what people would think if they found out that Baz is dating a guy.

Maybe they would do what the fans seem to want and have our characters date. It was a little overwhelming to see how much they were drawn to my character and then to watch as they began to ship our characters, even after only three episodes.

Penny took the news of our relationship surprising well. She didn’t even seem very shocked by the fact that I’m attracted to him. She said that it explained a lot, and I can’t believe that I was that obvious about how attracted I am to him. I thought that I was doing a better job to appear like I hated him. I never wanted to be one of those people who fell head over heels for a celebrity. But I never thought I had any hope that he would like me back.

He even asked me to move in with him. I told him that I’d think about it.

We’ve only been together about five months, and I don’t want to mess this up by rushing into things.

He keeps pointing out the pros of moving in with him. His place is closer to the studio, so it will be a shorter commute. We can practice our lines together. His room is big enough to hold my things. And we would be able to spend more time together.

That one usually ends with him backing me into something and kissing me soundly.

I want to give in and say yes, but I can’t just ditch Penny like that. I know that she’s been talking about moving in with her own boyfriend, and I think I might be one of the main reasons that she hasn’t yet. It still wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t at least talk to her about it first.

I’m almost certain that she would be fine with me moving in with Baz, which is why the next time that he asks me, I start to give in.

He’s got me pushed up against his kitchen counter with his arms wrapped tightly around me, and he’s in the process of trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck when he asks me again to move in with him.

“You would have to tell people about us,” I tell him.

“It’s about time,” he murmurs into my neck.

“You would have to stop going on all those fake dates,” I say, albeit breathlessly.

“How unfortunate,” he smiles against my ear.

“You would have to…” I try to come up with something else to stall, but I can’t. I really do want to move in with him. I’m just nervous.

I love him, and I don’t want to lose him. I haven’t said those three words to him — it’s too early — but I do feel that way about him.

“Simon,” he says quietly, leaning back to look at me. “I will do whatever and tell whoever you want me to. I want to be with you, and I want you to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” He asks, sounding truly surprised.

“Yes,” I say with a laugh. “I would love to move in with you. I’ll just need some time to tell Penny.”

“That’s fine.”

I want to say it now. I want to tell him how much he means to me, tell him that I love him, but it isn’t time. The time will come eventually, but for now, I settle for just kissing him and holding him close to me.

[fencheto]

Forbidden - Part 4 (Dimon Romantic)

The story can also be found on Wattpad You can find the previous chapters here Feedback is greatly appreciated.

[tashaleway]

Karkat Vantas and a Fucking Cherry-Red Stone: Chapter One: The Worst Introduction.

Summary: Karkat Vantas is going to Hogwarts where he will be judged because of something, he doesn’t even know about. How will he react, when he finds out that everybody around him lied? Will his friends stand with him through this, or will they abandon him? No game.

Karkat Vantas was no ordinary 10 year old boy, which was something you could tell already by looking at him. His hair was black and ruffled, which made it look something similar to a bird’s nest. Already here, we have some unnaturalness; the hair was not only black, but in such a shade that it was somewhat near the colour of a black hole. His skin was so pale that you doubted that he had ever stepped outside in his entire life. Dark circles hang under his eyes, pointing to the fact that the boy clearly didn’t sleep well, and this had been going on for quite some time. His clothes covered as much skin as possible, the dark attire making a shocking contrast to the white skin. The kid’s height was nothing to be proud of, since he was some good inches below average. His mouth grimaced in scowl, often showing off teeth like a cornered animal would, but his most shocking feature was most possible his eyes. Crimson red, they were. Like poisoned apples, they stared at you with anger, hate and mistrust, always seeking for an escape route. From a kid, who was showing so many negative feelings and always ready to give a person so much fright, one would think that the Lord at least had graced the kid with a gentle voice or vocabulary, but that was not the case. No, his voice was scratchy, like sandpaper and his words were harsh and insulting, aiming to hurt. Words were after all the only weapon the small boy could use in front of non-magical people. Muggles was the wizarding word for these. Just pointing out the fact that this boy was no near physical strong. Yes, Karkat Vantas was a wizard himself, not yet under education, but soon he would attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the only magical school in Britain. Karkat’s older brother, Kankri, was already about to finish his second year and in a few weeks, he would be home, just in time to celebrate Karkat’s 11th birthday with their father. When you saw the two brothers beside each other, you would not be able to tell that they were brothers, not even close relatives. Kankri had brown hair and soft, brown eyes. High cheekbones, a small face, thin lips and a slender figure. Average of high and a friendly nature and person, always making sure that everybody else was in a good mood. Even though that all his hard work was wasted, when they grew irritated of his trigger warnings. That was the sons, but what about the father, you ask? Well, if you expect some kind of man, who looks like a mix between the two kids, or with some of their features, you would be wrong. A man with dark hair, auburn eyes and pale skin, perhaps? Heh, the truth couldn’t have been further away. Their father was a monster. No, trust me, I am telling the truth! He is a monster; a two meter tall, white creature, who looks like some weird lobster with crab-alike legs. He could talk English, but only if he needed to, or else he would just screech or making weird clicking noises. No surprise that his sons are the only ones, who truly understand that language. Everybody else, who knew of the creature’s existence, had a vague idea of what the different sounds meant. Now, you may have guessed that this creature could not possible be the boys’ real father, and you are indeed correct. Their parents died almost ten years ago, under the last war against the Dark Lord, Jack Noir, and when the Aurors (wizarding policemen, who hunts down dark wizards, witches and other criminals, in case, you are an unknowing muggle) arrived with a scared three year old and a one year old baby and was told that their parents had just died, the creature hereafter took them in and raised them as his own, it was after all, what beasts like him were known for. The creature was called a Lusus, which is an almost unknown race, due to their rareness and shy personality. Not many of them are left, because muggles and wizards both hunted them down for their white skin, shell and blood that was (and still is) worth a lot of money. There had never been much information on these. They didn’t look alike anything else, but thing the magical people knew about them, was that they since the time of their beginning had taken care of orphaned younglings, humans and animals alike. Despite their frightening looks, they were a kind race. ~naknaknak~ The young soon-to-be wizard was waiting by the window of the local library for the other boys to grow tired of the hunt and return home. Karkat didn’t go to school, since it would cause more problems than it would solve with the father he had. Too many questions would be asked about the father no one saw. Therefore it would be much better for the brothers to be homeschooled instead. They learned all the basic muggle knowledge by different muggleborns from the Ministry of Magic, who were in fact not too happy to help the orphans, as some of the pureblooded saw it unnecessary and a scandal to the magical world. When it was decided that the two had finally learned enough from the muggle world, they were introduced to wizard customs and culture. It wouldn’t do them any good, if they `entered Hogwarts as ignorant mud- muggleborns, ehm´, as a snooty half-blood once said. As he was not a pureblood, he wasn’t in any rights or means to even dare whisper the insult. If he had been pureblood, no one would even dare to tell him off. But back to the story; Karkat had wandered around in the city after his lessons with Mr. Droog (a weird, strict man with too many war-alike stories from his time in school), with nothing to do since Kankri was still at Hogwarts and would first return in a little month’s time and nothing interesting on his schedule. He had no idea where he was going, lost in his thoughts about the coming year, where he would finally attend Hogwarts, when he walked headfirst into the chest of one of the older boys from the town. Simon Scratch, son of Doc Scratch himself, who was the principal of the town’s school. To make a long story short, Simon and his gang had bullied, hunted and occasionally beaten the younger boy for years. Being as young as he was, he could never do anything obvious. The thing was that he as often as he could, retort to magic as a solution. Not anything too harmful of course, but a little wind that would help him run faster, make him jump longer or push the other boys away, had never truly harmed anyone, had it? He never told his family about these confrontations and control of magic. See, young Karkat wasn’t that stupid. He fully well knew that the amount of control of his magic, he showed wasn’t normal. Yes sometimes a burst of accidental magic would help you out of a situation or grant a wish, so to say, but not in this aspect, no. So there for, he kept it a secret. Not only from his family, but also the magical society. Even from the bullies, who knew that the boy was freaky lucky all the time. A freak was what he was. Just a freak, which needed to be shown his place in the hierarchy.  After all, it wouldn’t do him any good, letting anyone know of this, would it? His family might try to understand, but would perhaps be frightened, which most likely would be the reaction from the two others. The society might want to exanimate him, which was something he would avoid for all costs. And for the bullies? They would be scared shitless if they knew just half the things Karkat did. No, it would be better this way. And after all, it was better being beaten for something, they didn’t understand, and able to somewhat defend himself with this power, than being beaten for something they did understand, and perhaps learned how to fight against. Obviously this “short” story became rather long. Back to the facts; when these bullies hunted Karkat, he liked to hide in the library. Ms. Dodd, the librarian, who was an older lady with thick glasses and her nose always buried in a book, but always knowing, when somebody broke the rules, had taken a liking to the red-eyed boy, who no matter his foul language, was quiet and nice around the books and her. When the gang was nowhere in sight, Karkat left the library with the promise that he would return and say a proper goodbye to the older lady, before he left for his boarding school (they had told everybody, who would ask that they went to a boarding school in Scotland, because they couldn’t very well tell them that they went to a magical castle with unicorns, moving pictures, broom riding and potion making, now could they? No matter what, it would be a very unwise decision.) “Hey freakazoid!” Oh shit. Simon and his gang had apparently only hid from view and waited for the boy to come out. Not showing anything that could be read as fear, Karkat turned around to meet the bullies. “What?” he asked in the most disrespectful tone he could muster. Not the most intelligent move, but the kid was only ten, soon eleven, so give him some slack. “I just want to chat,” the boy said and smirked, just to confirm Karkat’s theory about that Simon wouldn’t only talk. After this it went downhill. Karkat had some of the fault, annoying the boy senseless, Simon insulting Karkat’s dead parents, Karkat not going on a rage fit, but instead calling the other boy a retarded toilet, which Simon didn’t react kindly upon. Wonder why? He stepped closer to Karkat, his shoulders raised and fists clenched, but Karkat didn’t have his eyes on the threatening body language. His eyes were instead fixed on a black leather looking rope-thingy, slowly emerging from Simon’s breast pocket. It almost looked like a- “A snake!” Karkat gasped, not realizing that the word had come out like a hiss instead of English. The said snake turned its little black head towards him. Karkat hadn’t realized that the other boys hadn’t heard the words, the same way he and the snake had. They heard it as a threat and just to make things clear, they didn’t like threats from kids, who were younger than themselves. And a few seconds later, the first fist connected with Karkat’s jaw. When he tumbled to the ground in shock, he could taste blood and he slowly and carefully rubbed the sore spot. It was in that moment, Simon commanded the other boys to hold Karkat down, while he kicked him, yelled at him, hit him, insulted him some more and kicked him again, just to be sure. Karkat tried not to scream in pain by each blow, because that would only be the thing Simon wanted, but when the other boy kicked him for the last time, a long scream escaped from his throat, while something that felt like a lot of hot energy, that before was captured inside him, broke free in the same scream. Karkat didn’t hear the other boys’ scream or whining. Actually, he couldn’t hear a thing. Neither could he move and when he tried to speak, his mouth wouldn’t even open. The only thing, he could was just to lay there and breathe and search the sky above him for help. He tried not to panic, but not even that, could he muster. A little by little, the sounds came back and the edging fear that loomed over him, disappeared bit by bit together with the panic. He could hear the moaning and shocked sobs from the other boys, but he ignored it and only focused on making his body move. First, he could only wriggle his fingers and toes, but soon he could control face, feet and hands, and lastly legs, arms and torso. Inch by inch, he stood up and looked over the place. Simon and his gangs, lying on the ground about ten feet from him, caught his eyes, but he could see nothing wrong with them, no broken bones or even strong bruising and they soon realized themselves the same thing. Without hesitating, they stood up quickly, speared Karkat a fearful and shame filled glance, before they turned around and ran as fast as their long legs could carry them, leaving the still sobbing Simon behind them. Great friends, huh? Something slithered around his angle and Karkat quickly jumped away in panic and shook his foot in a desperate attempt to get the thing away. He didn’t recognize the little snake, which was only two feet long, before it lay on the ground again and gave an angry hiss. But to Karkat it wasn’t only a hiss. It was actually words. “Stupid, filthy human!” the words did actually come from the snake. If Karkat wasn’t panicking, he would without doubt find this incredible fascinating, but as I just said; he was panicking, and the only thing he could think was; `the snake just spoke! The fucking snake just spoke!´ `But how was that possible? Snakes can’t talk, can they?´ “Did you just… talk?” he asked weary. Talking animals didn’t sound like a normal thing, even in the wizarding world. “Of course I did! Or did you think it was your shoe?” Great. Karkat was mental, or maybe the snake could talk and had a sarcastic sense of humor. None of those options sounded good to him. ~naknaknak~ As Karkat talked to the little black snake, it turned out that the snake was female and named Sylvia by her mother, but now had a horrible male name, given by her even worse owner (Karkat had of course responded with giving his own name). When that case was closed, she told him that it was not her, who spoke English, but in fact Karkat, who talked snake language, which was apparently called Parseltongue. As a speaker of this language, Karkat was a Parselmouth. It was a lot of information to take in one bite, but when the boy got his thoughts under control, he asked in a somewhat shaky voice, why the human snake speakers, had a name, when Sylvia had never met one herself before now. So if they were so rare, why did they need a name? He was then told that she had once met a snake, who was magical, in a dark forest some years ago, before she was captured and sold to that horrid kid. The snake told her that his great grandfather or something like that had met a kid about twenty years ago, who spoke the language and had told the snake, what he was. The kid was apparently some descendent to an old, pureblooded family, who was known for speaking the snake language, but exactly, who they were, the snake had no idea. The kid never came back. After Karkat had been told this, he secretly hoped that the kid had been his father, an uncle, or maybe a grandfather, but the wish crushed to the ground, when he reminded himself, that both his parents was muggles and so was theirs parents, so there was no hope for either non-magical, being able to speak a language only wizards and witches was able to, if they had the rare gift. As for an uncle, he had never heard of any. In fact, he remembered a time, when he asked, if Kankri and he had any other relatives that their parents, either dead or alive, but the hope of any biological family left was burned to ashes by Crabdad’s answer. His voice was grave, when he responded with a single `no´. Knowing that he had somewhat distressed his adoptive father, Karkat promised himself that he would never ask that question again. In the meantime, Simon had come to his senses, realizing that nothing serious had happened to him. Simon was furious. How dared that kid to punch him (that was, what he thought happened, because such thing as magic surely didn’t exist!) and just think that he would get away with it? The freak did not even respect him! After the freak had punched him, he didn’t even run away, no he just sat there in the grass in front of Razor, mocking him! When the older boy crept closer, not even noticing his friends had ran the other way, he realized that the freak was pretending that he could speak with his black snake! Such a lunatic! In only a second, Simon was just behind the freak, Razor lifted its head and hissed threateningly, the young boy turned around in alarm, but before he could do anything else, Simon grabbed him around the neck and lifted the freak up in the air, making him gasp for air. He trashed violently, as soon he came over the first shock. He kicked, hit, scratched and tried to bite, but Simon stopped the fighting with a blow to the boy’s head with his other hand that made his vision blur and taste blood again. The kid now only scratched at the hand to release its grab. “I’m warning you, kid. Don’ ever, don’ ever go near my snake again. You hear me?!” the last words were spitted out and some of the liquid hit Karkat in his face. If he wasn’t about to be strangled, Karkat would have scrunched up his face in disgust.   Thinking that the freak got the point, Simon released him and Karkat fell to the ground, greedily sucking air in to fill his burning lungs. Karkat managed to nod in confirmation, Simon scooped up his pet snake, but when he returned his eyes to the kid, Karkat stood up. Not even realizing, what was going on, Simon received a kick in the gut for all his hard work. Ending in the exact same position as Karkat was in only a minute ago; Simon fell to his knees and gasped for breath. “Not funny, when it’s yourself, is it? Listen fuckass, and you better listen closely, understand? Don’t ever do such a trick again, got it?! Remember just fifteen minutes ago, when you and your little brainless goons flew through the air? What makes you think, I can’t do it again? Don’t ever cross my path again. I’m tired of all your bullshit. Do you. Understand?” Simon nodded furiously, remembering the hit all too well and realized that the kid really was a freak. His dad had been right all along! Before leaving, Karkat nodded to the snake in the boy’s grasp. “Until next time, Miss Sylvia. Please enjoy your time, and remember that you are more than welcome to bite your little human pet from me,” a hissing laughter of agreement was the response. ~naknaknak~ Karkat hadn’t meant to blurt out his secret, that he wasn’t as normal as people believed, but it was too late now. He just hoped that the other boy wouldn’t be a problem in the future.

[injusticeff]

Chapter Eighteen

***2 weeks later***

Tiarra

The news was filled with the so-called "home invasion" that was done on the "nice innocent young lady" named Ajanae Patterson. I had covered my tracks so I wasn't really worried about the cops but the amount of coverage they were doing on this girl was real life blowing me.

It had been over two weeks since I tried to kill her ass and they were just still milking the hell out of this story. It's definitely not present as much as it was when it first happened but they still talked about it from time to time. At least once a day asking if anyone had any information or had seen anything to call in and let them know.

But I was too good to get caught and I doubt there were any witnesses because if there was, they would have some information about it already. I had learned too much stuff from watching those reality crime shows to get caught up making some dumb and careless mistake.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the remote and shut off the TV before turning to my phone for entertainment instead. I realized I had a text from Dominick and instantly scrunched up my face considering he hasn't returned any of my texts and calls since that day I had to go to the hospital. He was smart to avoid me though because each time, I was only calling to cuss his ass out for doing some shit like that to me as if I'm a weak bitch.

From: Bitch 🖕🏽

call me as soon as u see this 💯 important

Of course I hesitated at first because I didn't know if what he wanted to talk about was important for me or important for him. If it's for him then he can surely kiss my ass because I won't be doing any more favors to someone as ungrateful as he is. I've always been there for him when he needed something done, when him and Simone would be in a bad place, even when I didn't need to be.

I decided to see what he wanted though just for the hell of it. The phone rang several times and I was about to hang up until I heard his voice come through on the other end. "Yo?"

"What's so important that you decided to text me after ignoring me for a whole month?" I crossed my unoccupied arm over my chest as if he could see me, instantly earning an annoyed sigh from his end but I'm the one who should be annoyed with all this back and forth he's always doing with me.

"Don't start with the bullshit Tiarra or I'll leave yo ass in the dark to fend for yourself." He retorted causing me to instantly furrow my eyebrows since I had honestly no idea what he was talking about.

I swear it was just like Dom to be calling someone on some cryptic bullshit, trying to be mysterious and whatnot. Like can we get to the point already? "What are you talking about 'fend for myself'? Since when have I not been able to take care of me, myself and I?"

"Since yo dumb ass decided you wanted to try and go kill somebody, but failed like an idiot."

My body immediately straightened out as his words processed through my mind because I hadn't told anyone about what I had done. There wasn't anyone I could really tell but still. If Dom knows about it, who else knows? "H-How did you—"

"Don't ask me no dumb ass question like that, Tiarra. You know I got eyes and ears everywhere, regardless of if the police ever find yo ass or not." The line got silent as I attempted to process what he was saying but couldn't because I was still stuck on the fact that someone else besides him had to know that I was the one who tried to kill that Nae bitch too. And I have no idea who it could have been.

My heart instantly began to pound as I soon felt a headache coming on. "Well why did you even look into who shot that bitch in the first place? It has nothing to do with you."

"You know I'm not the type to give out information like that and you're lucky I even fuck with you on some type of level 'cause I wouldn't have even told yo slow ass at all." He spoke, letting a sarcastic chuckle escape from his lips soon afterwards. "If you wanted to do the job, you could have at least done it right."

Immediately rolling my eyes, I scoffed because I had actually thought I'd done a good job of covering up my tracks. Hell, it's been over two weeks and the police still have no clue that what happened to her was an attempted homicide. "I did do it right. Tell all your nosy ass connects to mind their fucking business, how about that?"

"They do mind their business but it's not their fault that one, you let off three loud ass shots in a neighborhood at night so you most likely woke mad people up. And two, yo dumb ass ain't wear nothing to cover your face."

My face instantly scrunched up because I know for certain that I had worn a ski mask that night. "I had a whole ski mask on so who's capping to you?"

"Well somebody saw what you looked like clear as day and they also saw what car you tried to sneak into afterwards so it is what it is."

Then what he was saying finally hit me. I took off my mask so that I would be the last face Nae would see before she died and after I shot her, I immediately ran before someone was able to call the cops. I had completely forgot to put my mask back over my head. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I buried my head in my hands wondering why nobody had turned me in yet and if they were even planning to in the first place.

I cannot go to jail and orange is definitely not my color. My freedom was now in jeopardy and I needed to find out who his connect was so that I could put an end to them as well. "Well... why does anyone else care about what happened to her? Are they related to her or something?" I asked, attempting to subtly get some information out of him since I knew straight out asking wasn't going to work.

"Nah nah, don't worry 'bout all that right now. Worry 'bout you. I'm only telling you all this 'cause as of now, you have someone tailing you."

My eyes widened and he didn't even get to finish his sentence before I dropped my phone and frantically hopped up from my spot on the bed, running to my closet. Grabbing one of the large suitcases from the corner of the small room, I threw it open on the ground and began piling clothes inside of it, not caring if they were getting messed up or wrinkled. I just knew I needed to get out of this house and get the fuck out of dodge.

My blood began to boil at the realization sinking in that this bitch really hired someone to follow me around and kill me whenever the chance would permit. What kind of looney ass female does something like that?

I struggled to zip up my suitcase because of how full and overcrowded it had become as I looked over my now half empty closet to make sure I wasn't forgetting any of the clothes I had actually enjoyed wearing. Running back into my bedroom, I started gathering hygiene necessities such as deodorant, lotions, perfumes, and my make up bag before stuffing it all into one of the empty pockets in my bag. I damn near looked like a crazy person running back and forth to gather everything I thought I would need to keep up with how I live.

I grabbed my phone which was now locked due to Dom most likely hanging up when he realized that I wasn't responding anymore, going to my private tabs and searching up some names of hotels near me. I didn't want to pick anything too close but I also didn't want to go too far right now since I was most likely going to switch from whatever hotel I would be staying at to a new one in a week, tops.

When there's someone after you, you can't get comfortable in one place for too long because that always runs a risk of them finding you there easily. I had to leave a confusing trail if I was going to make it out of this alive.

And one thing I was going to make sure to do was finish the job that I started. No one is going to continue looking for me once they stop getting paid however much she's paying them.

I dragged my now heavily full suitcase out to my car and immediately remembered him saying that whoever witnessed what happened saw what car I went into. A low huff escaped from my lips because I knew I was probably going to have to rent a car too. This whole situation was taking too much money out of my pockets already. Once I threw the bag into the backseat, I quickly hopped in the driver's side and started up my car before following my GPS to the hotel I had decided on while I was in my room.

I kept finding myself looking into my rear view mirrors as I drove to make sure that no one was following me. When I finally arrived to the hotel, I made sure to throw my sunglasses on just in case as I made my way inside. It seemed like everywhere I looked, there was someone that had glanced at me or looked too suspiciously casual.

On the way here, I stopped at an ATM and took out some cash so that I wouldn't have to use my card and be easier to trace. That's one of the biggest mistakes people make on those crime shows that air on TV all the time. They leave a paper trail like some dumb asses.

I texted Dom to thank him for telling me even though I don't fuck with him right now because I know he didn't have to let me know that the bitch is trying to put a hit out on my head, but he still did. This makes me question how Dom really feels about me; he says he could care less but then goes and does stuff that shows me otherwise. He clearly cared about saving my life and so he clearly cares about me.

It made me smile just knowing that the man who claimed to be so nonchalant went out of his way to let me know something that would ultimately save my life. And I knew I had to thank him somehow but right now, I'm not taking the chance of bringing anyone over to where I'm staying. That bitch is still his ex-girlfriend and I learned a long time ago that you can't trust nobody, not even your family.

I'm the walking epitome of someone that shouldn't be trusted so why would I make that same mistake with someone else? Contrary to popular belief, I'm far from a dumb bitch. Conceited? Yes. Rude? Maybe a little bit. But dumb is one thing that I definitely am not.

Once I checked in and received my room key, I looked around one last time to make sure that I wasn't being watched or followed before dragging my heavy suitcase along with me up to my room. I remained alert the entire time and didn't let my guard down until I was safe inside of my room.

The first thing I did once I was in my hotel room was crash down on the bed and let out a long exasperated sigh. These next few weeks trying to finish the job were going to be hell; not only because I had to come up with another plan to kill the bitch again, but also because I had someone I didn't know watching my every move to see what I'm up to and strike me when I least expect it.

Well, jokes on them because I'm always prepared.

Xae

Bree groaned lightly as her head hovered over the toilet bowl lazily. She kept having to remind herself that she couldn't just lay her head down on the seat since everyone's bare ass be on it but I could tell she wanted to rest her head somewhere.

I tried to comfort her by rubbing circles on her back gently with my hand but she only responded by groaning once again, this time a bit louder than before. I winced and backed up a bit because I thought she was going to throw up and I was not trying to have that shit splash back up on me.

But she only weakly lifted her head and reached for some toilet paper, wiping her mouth and nose soon afterwards. "Do you feel any better after throwing up?"

"A little bit, I'm not as nauseous anymore." I reached out to her and she smiled before grabbing my hand as I helped her stand to her feet. She was fine once she got her foot foundation.

The first thing she went to do was brush her teeth because she hated everything about vomiting; the taste, the feeling, everything. "I must have ate something bad. What did we eat for dinner last night?" She asked, turning to me with her toothbrush in her mouth.

"We had chipotle, you never got sick off that before."

She shrugged slightly before turning back around to spit the toothpaste out of her mouth. "Must have been a bad batch or something. I did get something other than my usual."

"Yea, you right." I agreed, nodding in realization. "Just don't get whatever you got no more."

She let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Trust me, I won't. It has me sicker than a dog."

I began nervously scratching the back of my head because I just knew that she was about to be pissed off by what I was about to tell her. "So, I had told Ant I was going to go chill with him and meet some of his fam. We supposed to go bowling."

"Ok, and why are you telling me this?" She replied dismissively as she began to lay down and get comfortable in the bed.

"Because I know how you are with Simone but she's gonna have to come check on you every now and then, and you can't be acting an ass. It's just gonna be for a couple hours so play nice, please."

She shrugged nonchalantly and buried herself underneath the covers like a burrito. "Xae, I don't know why you're worried. I can walk, I'm fine. I don't need a supervisor like I'm some five year old in daycare. Go have fun with your friend..." She paused to sit up a little bit so that she could see me better. "Why do you hang out with him anyway?"

"Girl, you know I don't have a lot of friends. McDonald's mixed up our order one day and we just immediately sparked up a conversation. He cool, what you got against him?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't have anything against him baby, it was just a question. I don't care who you hang out with just... hurry and come back to me." I replied by making my way over to her and leaning down to press my lips against her soft ones, allowing my tongue to invade her mouth for a quick second before pulling away as she glared at me with lust in her beautiful dark brown eyes. "Like I said, hurry back."

"I will." Giving her one last peck, I grabbed my keys and went to go say goodbye to Simone before heading out of the house.

I didn't know where the bowling alley was by heart so I already had it programmed into my GPS to save me the time. My feet carried me to my car and started it up once I was inside, driving off in the direction the Siri lady was telling me to go. I cracked my window, allowing some breeze to roll off my face as I cruised down the roads and highways.

I'm not really that good at bowling but I agreed to go because it seemed like something big for Antonio. He's basically met my family but I haven't met any of his so he figured he'd invite me to a function they have every once in a while when everyone is free to spend a few hours out with their family. That seemed like a nice little tradition to have, where everyone gets together throughout the year just to have fun. Many families don't do things like that; at least I know mine doesn't.

I would have stayed with Bree to take care of her while she wasn't feeling well, but I couldn't turn him down. Especially when I had already agreed almost a week in advance. It would be fucked up to cancel on him last minute, plus, I'm already more than sure he's told some of his family members about his plus one and it would look bad on my part if I didn't show up after he told them that I said I was. So, I was between a rock and a hard place here.

Before I knew it, I pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley and searched around to find a space, ultimately having to go to the back to find an empty spot. Damn, it's packed for it to be the middle of the day. Once my car was parked, I hopped out and made my way back around the building to go through the entrance of the establishment.

Multi-colored lights immediately came into view along with one side of the building being an entire arcade full of different types of games. Music was blaring but the sound of young adults and children playing the arcade games kind of drowned it out a bit if you were on that side. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone and text him, letting him know that I was here since it felt awkward just standing around looking lost. As I awaited his text, I just busied myself on my phone so I wouldn't have to look like I was a kid who just lost his mom in a supermarket.

I felt taps on my shoulder causing me to turn around, instantly dapping my friend up as I noticed some of the people that were behind him. "What's good bruh? Alright so, this is my aunt Clemencia and my uncle Julio, my cousins Ajanae and Naija," he spoke as he pointed at two girls, one with her arm in a sling and the other typing away on her phone not paying any attention, "and mi madre Rosa." The short woman he pointed to then pulled me in for a back breaking hug as she mumbled some things excitedly in Spanish before saying it was nice to meet me. "Family, this is Xavier but he likes being called Xae."

"It's nice to meet you all." I added as I smiled and waved at everyone.

Everyone waved back except for his cousin whose face was still buried in her phone but it didn't really bothered me. She looked like a teenager in high school and I was that same way around my family when I was a kid. I really wanted to be out and experiencing doing my own thing but my mom literally dragged me to any family functions we had, since we didn't have many to attend in the first place. I was mad when I was younger but once I got older, I didn't mind it as much. You never know how long people will stay on this earth and family is all you have.

"Oo, I like your tattoos." His aunt flaunted her hispanic accent as she simultaneously felt the muscles in my arms causing me to look to Antonio for help. He responded by holding his hands up in defense and laughing.

"Mami, cálmase. You're scaring this poor man, he doesn't want you." The girl with short hair and her arm in a sling inserted herself into the situation.

Her mother scoffed and pulled her hands away from me only to place them on her own hips. "Callate nena, cuidate tu negocio."

"Do you want her?" The girl then asked me as she pointed to her mom.

I had no idea what to say in this very moment as I looked between both of the women while they looked at me expectantly. "Uh..."

"Alright, y'all stop scaring my friend off and let's go bowl. I don't wanna hear no more of this foolishness." Antonio spoke sternly but anyone could tell that he was being playful when he said it.

We all started heading off towards the counter where we could pay for the lane we'd be playing in and get our bowling shoes. I felt a slight nudge to my side causing me look at the person who had started walking alongside me. "Hey, sorry about my mom. She thinks she can pull anything that moves and I keep tryna tell her that she's not in her prime no more."

"Aw, don't tell her that. You gon' kill her confidence." I chuckled out.

"Psh," she rolled her eyes playfully, "I wish. Maybe then you wouldn't have been hit on."

I looked back at his aunt who then began to smile at me causing me to quickly turn back around and act like I wasn't just looking at her. "Uh, isn't that her husband?" I asked, referring to the man that lazily strolled beside her and didn't really say much.

"If you could even call it that. They're only together because they have kids. They do what they want." The girl seemed irritated by this fact and I didn't wanna pry, so I remained quiet. She sighed. "Anyway, I'm Ajanae."

"Xae. What happened to your arm if you don't mind me asking?"

She gave me a slight smile. "Oh no, you can ask me anything Xae. But unfortunately, I got shot."

I nearly tripped over myself at her revelation as I glanced at her with a surprised look on my face. "You got what?" I would have thought she sprained it playing a sport or something but getting shot? Sheesh, who did she piss off?

"It's not that big of a deal, I'm good." She replied dismissively and I honestly couldn't blame her. I probably wouldn't want to talk about the situation all the time either and I'm sure she gets a lot of questions as it is. She looked up at me and eyed over my facial features for a quick second before turning elsewhere. "So, Xae. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"A fiancé to be exact, so be like ya thirsty ass momma and get gone." Antonio answered for me out of nowhere as he threw his arm around my shoulder to pull me away from his family. "Sorry that every woman in my family hits on anything with legs."

I let out a low laugh as I shook my head. "Nah, it's all good. I don't mind it. Although, if Bree was here and saw all that, she'd need fries to go with her salt." He laughed along with me and shrugged slightly.

"Eh, she can't be mad at you. At least you weren't flirting back. You coulda been one of those types of niggas."

I instantly shook my head. "Nah, my baby girl lying in bed sick and throwing up. I wouldn't be out here flirting with no other chick while she's waiting for me back at home."

"Throwing up?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "You think she's pregnant?"

Shaking my head once again, that hurt feeling that came over me whenever I talked about this situation hit me almost automatically. "Nah man, Bree can't have kids. She ordered some new shit from Chipotle yesterday and she's thinking that's probably what's got her feeling sick. I keep telling her stop tryna be different, she don't wanna listen."

"Damn, well I'm sorry about that... You never know though."

I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. "Yea, but it doesn't matter. Me and her talked about it and we're content with adopting when the time comes and we both want kids."

"Sounds like y'all have y'all whole life planned out together already." He replied causing a small smile to grace my face as I nodded in agreement.

"We really do."

Simone

I fought a smile as Xae helped me fold the last of my clothes that I had took today to wash. There wasn't a lot that I brought with me, so I had to wash more often than they did but he always helped me out.

I've stayed longer than I'd hoped to. I tried asking my mom but she didn't have enough room for me there. After both of her kids moved out, she saw no reason to have a house with multiple bedrooms when she was only going to use one.

I didn't mind staying here though. Other than the obvious glares from Bree, it was a nice environment to be in. But I know that I can't stay here forever and I feel as if I'm overstepping my boundaries by staying here longer than intended anyway. I had been looking for some cheap hotels in the area that were still at least a little decent but anytime I'm searching for them, Xae tells me he's in no rush to kick me out. He was being so sweet to me when he really didn't have to be and that alone warmed my heart.

We would have these smoke sessions whenever stress was getting too much to bare; with him doing all this wedding planning and me dealing with my situation with my obsessive ass baby daddy, it was easy to open up to each other since neither one of us had no spot to judge. We would talk for hours at a time even after we had already smoked the blunt down to nothing but a small roach.

It was nice being able to just talk to someone sometimes. I feel like I've just been holding so much in and handling everything myself, but it was cool getting advice from someone on the outside looking in. Just talking with him alone, I almost forgot that I was running from someone and not just hanging out and having fun. Once the realization sets in that this isn't really my life, though, is when all those happy feelings come crashing right back down again. I'm only taking bits of pieces of his happy life and intruding on his personal relationship with Bree by taking up so much of his time that should be going to the planning of their wedding.

They've made really good progress but I feel as though they'd be done by now if it weren't for me being here so long. Things like what he's doing now by helping me fold my clothes, is what's taking away from the time they could be spending with each other instead. And what makes things worse is I think Bree sees that too, which is only adding onto her unreasonable hatred for me. These past two weeks, I've been trying to get on her good side by helping around the house but nothing I do ever seems to be good enough. The more impressed and appreciative Xae gets by me doing those things, the more annoyed she seems to get.

"You got one more load after this right?" He asked as he folded the last one of my leggings. I had so many leggings that it was ridiculous and you would probably catch me in one four out of seven days of the week. Maybe five on a good week.

I nodded in response to his question, tucking some loose strands of hair behind my ear. "Yea, but you don't have to help me with that though, it's a small load. I can handle it."

"Honestly, I really don't have nothing else to do right now, so helping you is keeping me company at the same time." Chuckling at his revelation, I shook my head and grabbed my clothes carefully before walking them to the guest room where I laid them down in my suitcase. I hadn't unpacked during my stay here because I knew it was only temporary and I didn't want to get comfortable knowing that.

Xae also grabbed the remainder of my clothes that was left and followed suit, setting them into my bag neatly so nothing came undone. "Thank you. I know you don't have to help me since I'm the one staying at your house... but you don't treat me like I'm some sort of burden to be here and I really appreciate that."

"That's because you're not a burden Simone and I don't know why you think you would ever be one either. This house has been more spotless in the two weeks you've been here than it has since we unpacked all of our stuff. You're always doing something to help out around the house and it's not like I don't be seeing you looking for different places to stay." He shrugged, not really knowing what else to say since he had been previously rambling.

My mouth stayed shut too as I enjoyed the silence for a quick second before rushing towards him and wrapping my arms around his torso with my eyes shut tight to try and hold back my tears as his cologne invaded my nostrils. His arms immediately wrapped around me, providing comfort and safety to anyone in them. I couldn't stop thinking about all he's done for me up until this point even after countless times of me being a bitch and purposely going ghost on him and avoiding him for literally no reason. He's been right there all along.

Once I realized we had been hugging for a bit too long, I reluctantly pulled out of the embrace and chuckled to hide my embarrassment as I used my thumbs to wipe some stray tears that fell from my eyes. "I'm sorry. I just—I almost forgot how it feels to have someone be so nice to you and not have ulterior motives in mind."

"Well, how do you know I don't have ulterior motives?" He asked with a playfully raised eyebrow causing a smile to creep it's way onto my face. I kept trying to fight it but looking at his handsome sharp features made it no better.

***Flashback***

Me and C'yara were playing truth or dare like teenagers at a slumber party and it was cool to have this kind of worry-less fun in my life again. I was learning so much about her; some things I wanted to know, and some things I definitely didn't.

"Ok, truth or dare, Sim."

I instantly cringed at the nickname with Dominick's evil eyes whenever he'd call me that after beating me immediately coming into mind. It took a second but I gave her a smile instead. I was trying to do better with my life and let go of the toxic parts of me Dom had created, that means I can't go flashing on everybody that calls me a common nickname for my name. It's not like they meant the same thing by it as he did. I needed to let my hurt go and being here was helping me progress so much more with it. "Truth."

"Ok," she placed her fingers on her chin as if she was thinking hard on what she wanted to ask me until a glint of mischief flashed in her eyes and a smirk formed on her face, "Do you like my cousin?"

When I tell you I almost choked on my damn spit. "W-What? Why would you even ask me that? He's engaged."

"Ok, yea all that is true but that also wasn't my question. I asked if you liked him."

My mouth got a little dry as my eyes darted around the room, trying to think of what to say in response. "I mean, yea I like him, he's a good friend of mine."

"Girl." She gave me a look that somehow made me hear the smacking of teeth, even though she hadn't physically done it. Her looks were that telling; it was kind of a talent. "You know it wouldn't be tea if I was asking you if you liked him as a friend. He's a soft ass sweet ass nigga, everyone's going to like him as a friend." She then threw her hands up at her last statement.

"I don't know... sometimes I look at him and—he's been protecting me literally since I was a child and it's so crazy that we keep running into each other." Finally after nervously rambling, I settled with. "I don't wanna say."

C'yara instantly giggled and started lightly poking me causing me to squirm a little bit on the bed. "Come on, don't be a pussy Simone. Just say you like Xae, so we can get on with our game." She taunted playfully as her fingers continued to tickle my sides causing me to bust out laughing.

"OKAY OKAY... yes." I barely whispered the last part but you know she heard it anyway as she immediately began jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

"I KNEW IT! Oh my gosh, this is so crazy! He likes you too and—"

She was about to ramble but I quickly stopped her since me liking another woman's fiancé on a deeper level than friendship was nothing to be proud about in my opinion. "What? No he doesn't. He loves Bree."

She stopped to look at me and it honestly looked like she was about to say something sarcastic but instead, she just shook her head. "You really must not see the way that he looks at you. Anyway, it's your turn."

***Flashback ends***

Memories of that night with C'yara and how I felt so disgusted with myself for admitting to wanting someone I couldn't have came flooding back into my mind as my smile soon dropped. Xae's instantly did the same as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at me with that concerning look that gets me weak every time. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I just remembered... that I have to go pick up my mail. It's been a week since the last time." I quickly spurt out as an excuse but at the same time, it was true.

All my mail was still going to Saint's house because I learned that it was already paid off. I think his grandparents had owned it previously and the sad part is, that's the very place he... I quickly shook those haunting thoughts out of my mind and came back to reality. "You want me to drive you? I—"

"NO! No... It's only fifteen minutes away and I'm only getting mail." I stated sternly causing him to chuckle and throw his hands up in defense.

Giving him a nervous smile, I rushed out of my designated room and grabbed the keys to Saint's car that I had been using since he passed. I left without another word to anyone and made my way over to my deceased lover's house.

Each week when I saw his house, I would just stare at it for a few minutes reminiscing on all the memories me, Saint, and Junior had in that very building. I was at my happiest there and nobody could tell me the love Saint had for Junior and I wasn't real. He treated my son like his own child and provided for him when I couldn't financially. He literally saved up thousands of dollars for me in this very situation I'm in now; without him.

I didn't know I was crying until I felt the hot tears drop from my jawline and onto my jeans, sinking into the absorbent fabric. I needed to get away from here. Quickly getting out of the car, I made my way over to the mailbox and scooped out the many letters Saint had still been receiving and some of my mail as well.

Once I got back in the car, I began sorting through the envelopes, separating my mail from his as one in particular instantly caught my eyes. It was addressed to me and was from the county Dom lives in's court office. I immediately opened it up, not knowing what I did to piss him off this time and pulled out a letter that had a full page of writing on it so I decided to skim through it.

It was a summons. Dom was requesting to take me to court for... sole custody of Junior?!