#FUCK Python FUCK coding FUCK uni

[breakingmyreverie]

gonna hunt down jupyter labs, you in? yes or YES?

We ride at dawn

[aesthetic-uni]

Okay serious question though, how badly would I fuck everything up by deleting almost everything I have in relation to coding and starting over clean slate style.

[sunless-not-sinless]

shitGPT

for uni im going to be coding with a chatGPT user, so i decided to see how good it is at coding (sure ive heard it can code, but theres a massive difference between being able to code and being able to code well).

i will complain about a specific project i asked it to make and improve on under the cut, but i will copy my conclusion from the bottom of the post and paste it up here.

-

conclusion: it (mostly) writes code that works, but isnt great. but this is actually a pretty big problem imo. as more and more people are using this to learn how to code, or getting examples of functions, theyre going to be learning from pretty bad code. and then theres what im going to be experiencing, coding with someone who uses this tool. theres going to be easily improvable code that the quote unquote writer wont fully understand going into a codebase with my name of it - a codebase which we will need present for our degree. even though the code is not the main part of this project (well, the quality of the code at least. you need it to be able to run and thats about it) its still a shitty feeling having my name attached to code of this quality.

and also it is possible to get it to write good (readable, idiomatic, efficient enough) code, but only if you can write this code yourself (and are willing to spend more time arguing with the AI than you would writing the code.) most of the things i pointed out to the AI was stuff that someone using this as a learning resource wont know about. if it never gives you static methods, class methods, ABCs, coroutines, type hints, multi-file programs, etc without you explicitly asking for them then its use is limited at best. and people who think that its a tool that can take all the info they need, and give it back to them in a concise, readable way (which is a surprising lot of people) will be missing out without even knowing about it.

i got it to write tic-tac-toe (the standard babee) in python (the lang i have to use for uni ;-; (held at gunpoint here)). my specific prompt was "write me a python program for tictactoe that is written in an object oriented way and allows for future expansion via multiple files"

it separated it into three files below (which i think would run, but i never actually ran any of this code. just reading and judging)

why does board use display instead of __str__ and __repr__?

why is the board stored as 1d instead of 2d? thats just confusing

why does it never early return aside from check_winner? (not a big issue here but kept on choosing to never early return when i asked it to add more methods)

why is there no handling of non-number user inputs?

why are non-int inputs truncated instead of telling the user that they should input ints only?

why is display implemented like that?

why are so many lines so bloody long (wide)?

why is there a redundant self.check_winner() after the while loop in TicTaacToe.play()? and if it wasnt redundant then you could finish the game without there being anything printed telling you that the game is finished?

why is the only comment useless? (this comment wouldnt be useless if it was a doc comment tho, but it aint a doc comment. speaking of, why is there no doc comments?)

these are the more immediate things i saw, but there are other things that are bad here.

whenever i write * this is where it updated the api without changing any usage of the api.

so i ask it to change board.display into __str__ and __repr__, it changes it to __str__*, it does not add a __repr__. asking it to add a __repr__ 1) removes the __str__ and 2) gives me this (the other methods are unchanged)

what. the. fuck. this would imply that board takes in an argument for the boardstate, but it clearly doesnt. after 4 more asks it finally has both __str__ and __repr__, without fixing the fact its implying board takes an optional arg, so i get it to add this arg. anything that needs to print the board still calls display btw.

the reasoning it gave for using display over the repr and str magics was this

While using __str__ and __repr__ is a more idiomatic approach in Python, choosing to have a separate display method can still be a valid choice, especially if the display logic is more complex or if you want to keep the __str__ method for a more concise or formal representation of the object.

which, erm what? why would __str__ be for a concise or formal repr when thats what __repr__ is for? who cares about how complex the logic is. youre calling this every time you print, so move the logic into __str__. it makes no difference for the performance of the program (if you had a very expensive func that prints smth, and you dont want it to run every time you try to print the obj then its understandable to implement that alongside str and repr)

it also said the difference between __str__ and __repr__ every damn time, which if youre asking it to implement these magics then surely you already know the difference?

but okay, one issue down and that took what? 5-10 minutes? and it wouldve taken 1 minute tops to do it yourself?

okay next implementing a tic-tac-toe board as a 1d array is fine, but kinda weird when 2d arrays exist. this one is just personal preference though so i got it to change it to a 2d list*. it changed the init method to this

tumblr wont let me add alt text to this image so:

[begin ID: Python code that generates a 2D array using nested list comprehensions. end ID]

which works, but just use [[" "] * 3 for _ in range(3)]. the only advantage listcomps have here over multiplying is that they create new lists, instead of copying the pointers. but if you update a cell it will change that pointer. you only need listcomps for the outermost level.

again, this is mainly personal preference, nothing major. but it does show that chatgpt gives u sloppy code

(also if you notice it got rid of the board argument lol)

now i had to explicitly get it to change is_full and make_move. methods in the same damn class that would be changed by changing to a 2d array. this sorta shit should be done automatically lol

it changed make_move by taking row and col args, which is a shitty decision coz it asks for a pos 1-9, so anything that calls make_move would have to change this to a row and col. so i got it to make a func thatll do this for the board class

what i was hoping for: a static method that is called inside make_move

what i got: a standalone function that is not inside any class that isnt early exited

the fuck is this supposed to do if its never called?

so i had to tell it to put it in the class as a static method, and get it to call it. i had to tell it to call this function holy hell

like what is this?

i cant believe it wrote this method without ever calling it!

and - AND - theres this code here that WILL run when this file is imported

which, errrr, this files entire point is being imported innit. if youre going to have example usage check if __name__ = "__main__" and dont store vars as globals

now i finally asked it to update the other classes not that the api has changed (hoping it would change the implementation of make_move to use the static method.) (it didnt.)

Player.make_move is now defined recursively in a way that doesnt work. yippe! why not propagate the error ill never know.

also why is there so much shit in the try block? its not clear which part needs to be error checked and it also makes the prints go offscreen.

after getting it to fix the static method not being called, and the try block being overcrowded (not getting it to propagate the error yet) i got it to add type hints (if u coding python, add type hints. please. itll make me happy)

now for the next 5 asks it changed 0 code. nothing at all. regardless of what i asked it to do. fucks sake.

also look at this type hint

what

the

hell

is

this

?

why is it Optional[str]???????? the hell??? at no point is it anything but a char. either write it as Optional[list[list[char]]] or Optional[list[list]], either works fine. just - dont bloody do this

also does anything look wrong with this type hint?

a bloody optional when its not optional

so i got it to remove this optional. it sure as hell got rid of optional

it sure as hell got rid of optional

now i was just trying to make board.py more readable. its been maybe half an hour at this point? i just want to move on.

it did not want to write PEP 8 code, but oh well. fuck it we ball, its not like it again decided to stop changing any code

(i lied)

but anyway one file down two to go, they were more of the same so i eventually gave up (i wont say each and every issue i had with the code. you get the gist. yes a lot of it didnt work)

conclusion: as you probably saw, it (mostly) writes code that works, but isnt great. but this is actually a pretty big problem imo. as more and more people are using this to learn how to code, or getting examples of functions, theyre going to be learning from pretty bad code. and then theres what im going to be experiencing, coding with someone who uses this tool. theres going to be easily improvable code that the quote unquote writer wont fully understand going into a codebase with my name of it - a codebase which we will need present for our degree. even though the code is not the main part of this project (well, the quality of the code at least. you need it to be able to run and thats about it) its still a shitty feeling having my name attached to code of this quality.

and also it is possible to get it to write good (readable, idiomatic, efficient enough) code, but only if you can write this code yourself (and are willing to spend more time arguing with the AI than you would writing the code.) most of the things i pointed out to the AI was stuff that someone using this as a learning resource wont know about. if it never gives you static methods, class methods, ABCs, coroutines, type hints, multi-file programs, etc without you explicitly asking for them then its use is limited at best. and people who think that its a tool that can take all the info they need, and give it back to them in a concise, readable way (which is a surprising lot of people) will be missing out without even knowing about it.

[nameforadragon]

I keep seeing posts being like "omg. The kids don't know how to use computer! They don't know how to use a mouse! They don't know what a command line is! They can't even use a browser. The kids don't know anything about technology if not app on phone:("

And idk dude like. I'm not gonna accuse these people of lying but I am gonna accuse them of being completely biased with absolutely no self reflection at all. You sound like your parents. Like holy shit. First of all, LOTS of us [aged<20] have had computer classes. "Computer lab" was a class all throughout primary school for me, and in grade 8 I had a required course where I learned some Python, had to use Adobe Photoshop, that kind of stuff. I know so many people who go further than that (including myself) and take elective coding classes. Now, it would be incredibly fucking biased of me to conclude that, because almost everyone I know is at the very least functional with a computer and can use a mouse, this means everyone is. Of course not. But thats what these posts do. "I only interact with children who don't know this, therefore no one under 20 knows anything and they're all stupid with their little tik toks" you have a very incomplete sample of kids at this age, and you barely acknowledge it.

Secondly, more on the self reflection bit. This is absolutely a privilege issue. Not a "the kids are so dumbb omggg" issue. Kids don't have computer classes? It's a privilege I was able to get that education. Should we mock people who didn't have music classes growing up and don't know the difference between a rhythm and a beat? If your answer to that is no, then maybe we shouldn't mock kids for not knowing the difference between a search engine and a browser. I know plenty of people bring up the issue to try and get at this, but I cant shake the undertone that all of these posts have in common, which is essentially this air of superiority, like people who grew up with desktop computer access are somehow better than people who didn't, which is just kind of terrible?? Like no joke, I've seen people complaining about uni students who don't really know the ins and outs of programming yet in undergrad and its like,,, did you just not want them to go to school because they didn't know that prior to post secondary? Like, what do you think school is for? Being perfect all the time and telling the teacher that you know everything already? I was under the impression that school was for acquiring knowledge and skills that you previously didnt have.

I also know people who are much older than me, and could have been coding all of their life, but didn't so much as touch a computer until after college, and they learned how to use it, and how to code, and now it's their career! You don't need to learn how computers work when you are five! I grew up scribbling on ms paint and being confused how solitaire worked, and struggling to comprehend minesweeper strategy on a very old version of Windows. I could functionally operate a mouse at the age of one, and that's all privilege. I'm not smarter, or better or more refined or anything, I was literally just born into a family that had desktop computers. And again, to point out the bias, I know way more adults that fit the whole "don't understand it if it's not an app on my phone" than kids.

Finally, a minor nitpick but I feel like it's warranted since the people authouring these posts often present themselves as being more knowledgeable about computers than the average teen? Don't go just saying incorrect bullshit. If you mean PC, say pc. If you mean a desktop computer, or a laptop, say that. Phones are not "fake computers" they just ARE computers. They are computers that have been engineered to be tiny. Their size does not mean they are not computers, it just means they are small. Furthermore, an "app" isn't a "thing u use on a phone." It's literally just the word application shortened. Anytime you use an application that you download on a laptop, or a pc or whatever, you are using an app. Your browser application is an app. I hate to tell you, but it must be said.

Sorry if anything I said in this is straight up wrong, I am not immune to hypocrisy, yadda yadda you know the deal. I also AM NOT an expert on computers, I have (what I, a teenager consider to be) a relatively baseline understanding of computers. And I'm writing this exhausted because I can't sleep. Admittedly on the mobile app, (which explains any typos) but I swear to you that I have a laptop and I use it more than I use my phone most days. I doubt anyone will really see this post but thanks for reading if you got this far I guess. Maybe let's just not fearmonger about "the kids these days" when we should be trying to help kids become functioning adults. I didn't get past my struggles with reading as a kid by being told that I was stupid, or getting mocked. I got past them by finding a book that I loved, and by being encouraged to read by adults who genuinely cared about my education. I really don't see how computers are different, that's all I have to say.

[frizzy-frizz-frizz]

I am so close to knocking on my computer science major roommate's door cause WHY can't I figure out this stupid fucking piece of code. fuck this. fuck uni. fuck python. this is a beginners course and I went to all the classes and did all the homework I should be able to figure this out???

[syrinq]

bearer of the curse in a way i forget all coding syntax despite having it done more than the average person by the following:

baby's first code is delving into tumblr themes and tweaking it to your liking the more you switch themes. also the ancient old custom boxes from deviantart. i miss you so babygirl

whatever the fuck tweaking c++ values is with the dumpster fire of (bethesda) games

idk how tf i made a relatively good first ever attempt at a game with fucking unreal engine blueprint in uni but somehow i did

tweaked to fully modified a toyhouse premium template (css/html/bootstrap) to my tastes, to the point i might as well have written it myself

converted/merged above code into other languages multiple times to make it a) work without premium (no css), b) work on a walmart wiki (tumblr blog), c) work on neocities by splitting & writing new css/html/jscript files albeit briefly because d) building it with templates and an SSG like astro fits my needs better

i Get why layout builders like weebly and carrd exist but fuck me neocities is so fucking good i'm going to pass away. i love customisation and i'm going to jork it violently

crash course into several pyramid schemes of frameworks and proceed to lose my mind and die

also die because x program is better for y language and z framework. then you proceed to install 3920282 programs you use for about 2 weeks and then forget again. but hey i guess i can start up localhost now instead of horribly failing at editing neocities pages

i just really like layouts. i love importing a template and then tweaking individual fucking values the way i need em to so i can make my oc world in the microwave radiate its signals outside the kitchen

wrote several own profile/folder/mockup codes inspired by toyhouse codes <- what can i say. i am fascinated by the humble button and the carousel

yayyy i love responsive ui i looove mobile friendly webbed sites i looove beating the shit out of bootstrap code by giving recurring elements their own fucking style.css and thus shortening justify-content-xl-between and rounded-circle border-0 background-faded to a single word class yayyy yippee ^_^

slightly delved into java for hypothetical entertaining thought of minecraft modding & i guess i can read it better now alongside python. but object programming stinks ass in the way to tell everything you're x and you have sexual relations with files y, z & the rest of the alphabet. webdev import is so sexy actually

[sed-official]

i saw this post and decided that i had some time spare, i could give AI another go. (link to post https://www.tumblr.com/dibelonious/778852078032404480/now-that-ai-made-troubleshooting-ridiculously. dont harass the poor old sod obviously.)

i hear a lot of people irl at uni and some online say ai is great for coding, and so every couple months i try it out. sometimes with a very small project in a popular language (python or c, usually. though im forgiveful with c as everyone fucks up c.), sometimes with something simple (i.e. a couple lines tops with a naive approach if written idiomatically) but in a more unusual language with full documentation online. (like sed! yay!)

but every single time i come to the conclusion that even with being handheld chatgpt could not do what it was asked to do. even if someone tells it every issue in its outputs, itll remember for only one prompt. even if someone tells it the solution, itll find a new way to fuck it up.

below the cut is me trying to get chatgpt to make a working sed script that prints "meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww..." (long post warning)

(if anything reads weirdly, this was originally a reblog to the screenshotted post, then i decided to make it its own post. so that may be why.)

i cant remember the last time i ran into an issue that i couldnt fix in like ... 5 minutes. but knowing what chatgpt is like, any ask i give it will give me issues to troubleshoot. (yes this example is code, not linux proper. but its more of the same doing that.)

the other day i decided to write "meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww....." in many different languages, after seeing @brainfuck-official do it in BF. (link to post https://www.tumblr.com/brainfuck-official/773510105608192000) as is my blog, i asked it to do this in sed.

great! this script doesnt work! it doesnt even come *close* to working, giving me plenty to try out chatgpt's troubleshooting skills! it also just doesnt make much sense. why the shebang but not making it executable? and why are the flags different (ones -f, ones -nf). also a counter? why though? thats not what im asking for? (you can see tags for a brief explanation on how to add a counter)

after telling it the script doesnt work (and why, something someone troubleshooting likely wont know) it just adds in a P. a command that prints a damn newline. but it lies about it printing a newline.

(if you dont believe it prints a trailing newline and believe the AI instead, just try echo -n foo | sed -n 'P ; P')

anyways it alternated between no print statements and printing with newlines for the next ... 8 prompts, by which time i felt sorry for the poor bugger and told it to use e to print without a newline.

all the while it was trying to be more useful and add a count - making it print my string after n repeats instead of the infinite that i asked for. it was trying to subtract 1 with effectively s/[0-9]+/&-1/ which just appends the string "-1" to a number!

anyways, i tell it to use "the e command". there are three different versions of the e command in sed, and only one of them makes sense here. which did chatgpt use? none! it used the e regex modifier! which executes your pattern hold, then turns the output into the new pattern hold. and does not print anything.

ill just screenshot the last couple interactions minus only the useless exposition it adds to every response so you can see how stupid it is

ignoring sed's requirement for an input this is equivalent to the python

to be fair i never said there shouldnt be infinite meows, and this does have infinite Ws. but come the fuck on. this is clearly not whats being asked for.

[thesquidkid]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers.(ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

Thank you ❤️

This list will be unordered, because I am bad at sorting the ideas in my brain 😂

My friends make me really happy, both irl and not (@the-magpieprince ❤️ thank you for letting me rant at you), and even tho I may be rather asocial and introverted, I do love being around ppl. My parents are also ppl who make me really happy, and every time we talk it puts a smile on my face and makes me less anxious

Maths. That's it. I fucking love maths so much, it's actually worrying. I spend most of my free time either thinking/working on my thesis, or writing weird codes on python to make cute gifs. Maths is like the thing that I constantly think about, and has gotten me out of so many panic attacks (prime factorisation or Fibonacci sequence is my go to)

Reading. I've always loved reading, and I didn't do it much during lockdown because I wasn't in the vibe, but I'm back now! Currently I'm going through lotr, and I've just started the two towers. Reading is such a fun activity for me, and I sincerely look forward to reading every night, even if it's just a page

During lockdown I didn't really read much, but instead I got much more into twitch. I used to watch replays casually, and maybe watch a few lives here and there, but it wasn't a constant. Now, however, I have a weekly schedule with something pretty much every night (and if not, I'll watch replays). For instance right now, I have la soirée du lundi on Mondays, Popcorn on Tuesdays, replays or casual streams on Wednesdays, Backseat on Thursdays, la soirée est tienne on Fridays, replays or casual streams on Saturdays, and Indiemanche on Sundays. These shows, and these streamers do bring a smile on my face every time I watch them, I love their good and chill vibe.

Fandom (and particularly the rnm fandom, and everyone on discord ❤️) is such a great thing, and really makes me happy (and the Tumblr block and filtering aspects). Writing fics, reading fics, seeing amazing gifs and fanart, is such a wonderful thing. And I love being a part of it all, it's such a great feeling to have ppl from all over the world liking the same thing and talking about it

So this is the list, I think this is a good summary of what makes me happy, tho there's for sure more stuff! Like food, and going to the gym, and watching the flowers outside and many more things.

I realised during lockdown and during my first year of uni that I was not very happy in general, so I decided to start with small things and spending a few moments a day just sitting down and listing one thing that made me happy that day.

And those five things listed up there and the ones that make me the happiest, so I'll keep doing those (sorry babe @the-magpieprince , that means I'll probably keep renting to you ❤️😂)

[natscbi]

25.08.22

TTMIK lessons 1.13 & 1.14 ✅

codeacademy python lesson review ✳️

workout ✳️

research course options for uni next year ✅

definitely feeling like i’m progressing in Korean, starting to form sentences and understand how verbs are used more! which is nice.

python got ignored for a while (lbr i’m never going to be obsessed with coding) but i’m determined to move forwards with it so let’s go

I also ordered textbooks for next year, going back to uni is scary but ik i will love it again as soon as i get back

i got a new habit tracking app which seems good so far, i finally found one that lets you make more than 3 without paying lmaoo fuck that

edit since i keep forgetting i stick music on the end of my posts smh

🎵 Bad Friend - Rina Sawayama

[kokokichichi]

Something that infinitely pisses me off in this fandom is that people tend to think Dream is a much better developer than George and often underestimate just how much coding George does for the entire dteam. See takes like "George codes for himself and Sapnap, but Dream codes himself :)" and "Oh yeah, George codes a little but Dream does most of the testing/editing"). And I think one of the reasons for that is because Dream at some point (back in fall mostly) couldn't stop mentioning how he's an Actual Developer and how he Codes, whereas George just...stays silent until someone directly asks him about coding stuff. And I don't know if it's just my personal experience as a female in CS field but whenever I see a dude brag about "how much of a coder he is" and "how he is in STEM which is sooo hard" I automatically write him off as a business major in denial, sorry not sorry. He'll be the horrible project manager who doesn't know shit about coding we all dread at work.

George, however, is a.) someone I genuinely think would be a breeze to work with b.) is so obviously a freelancer at heart that whenever he starts his classic money moves I can't help but think it's his old freelancing habits at play lmao

Dream may be an "ideas man" (again, something he's mentioned multiple times now) but please stop stealing George's credit from where it's due.

so valid anon! so true! 

you know, i’ll speak my truth on this: i am 100%, without a DOUBT, sure that george is a better programmer than dream. first, note that dteam themselves have said that george codes almost all of their mods. if dream was really so good at coding and if coding minecraft stuff was really as easy as he says it is, then why tf wouldn’t he code it himself? i know from working with clients how hard it is to get exactly what they want - it would be 100% simpler to just code it yourself if you knew how.

second, george has a DEGREE in cs. dream learned how to code HIMSELF. sure, it’s reasonably impressive that he started solo, but there’s only so much you can learn by yourself. cs in uni isn’t just learning about a bunch of languages, but it’s about also learning data structures and algorithms (varies depending on your focus but you get the idea) and so on so forth. the uni workload is also much harder than any real life application you would find in a job or freelancing (read up on the “weed-out” system in STEM, it’s super interesting. a lot of people think it doesn’t happen any more but... well...)

third, george probably got exposure to a lot of languages that dream didn’t. like sure, there’s a possibility that dream also taught himself more than just python and java, but i sincerely doubt it. george, on the other hand, has said on stream that he knows python, java, and javascript (which is very different from java). he also said he did app development, right? assuming it’s for iphone, that’s probably swift. the cs curriculum might be different in the uk than it is from the us, but i doubt he got his degree without learning a bit of c++ or c, which are two languages that are hard as FUCK but important for understanding fundamental concepts, such as memory allocation, which is all handled discretely with upper level languages (java and python). 

fourth, i think dream said the hardest thing he coded was an api? true, api’s are difficult, but i coded one my freshman year of uni. meanwhile, i think george’s tinder-but-for-business app would have been much harder to develop, in terms of complexity and components. 

fifth... dream does the testing and editing?? what?? i’m pretty sure when george finishes a program, he doesn’t immediately send it off without trying it out himself... so bullshit on that. in the case that george will send him something and dream will test it out to see if it’s what *he* wants (again... i still don’t see why he doesn’t just code it himself if he’s worried about this), dream has a practically finished program to work with. how is this supposed to be more difficult or skillful than starting a program from scratch...?

sixth, and this is probably subjective and biased, but i’m with you in that i trust people who don’t constantly tell me how good they are at coding more than people that do. like... especially with stem... you don’t get far in your field without learning to respect just how god damn difficult this stuff is and that there are always going to be people better than you. dream gives me like... consultant vibes LOL. george gives me “okay, how do you think we should do it? let’s discuss :]” vibes. he would absolutely listen to what i have to say and not talk over me, like 99% of the guys in stem.

ultimately, this isn’t a list that’s supposed to shit on dream’s skills or abilities. but if you think that george isn’t at the very least on the same level of dream in coding, then i hope this is a wake up call for you with no experience in cs. 

[aesthetic-uni]

What if instead of coding I destroy my computer

[arcane--knowledge]

i was talking to my coworker about my online classes and how i was really struggling in a hard class so it was hard to motivate myself, on top of having to work full time so I have even less time to study, and he starting saying that if I felt like that then I must not really want to be in computer science, and like??? wtf are you talking about?? i have very valid reasons to be tired and having trouble with this class and you think it must be bc i dont really want to be in cs?? you only met me a few weeks ago and you think you know my own feelings towards cs better than i do?! i chose my major YEARS ago, i am extremely sure that its what i want to do!! and cs is fucking hard, of course im gonna have trouble with it and be demotivated and tired at times! it doesnt mean i dont actually care about cs!! and uni in general is hard and tiring, i would have felt this way at some point no matter what major i chose. men will literally take one coding class in high school and think they know more about cs than a female cs major whos coded for years....he simultaneously thinks that 1) i must not really want to be in cs bc i have trouble with MIPS but 2) that i must be an incredible coder bc i know java and python and he heard that theyre hard (i have tried to express how hard MIPS is compared to any high level languages but he doesnt seem to understand, also i know C which, imo, is harder than java and python but he thinks knowing java is more impressive bc minecraft was made in java but he hasnt heard about anything being made in C so he doesnt care about that). he’ll say that i could make the next minecraft just bc i did an assignment involving making a rudimentary space invaders game in java then say that i must not really want to be in cs bc im frustrated that i suck at MIPS like!!! make up your mind!!!!!!

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Straight Boy

Part 2: together

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 10365

Chapters: 2/4 [All chapters]

Read on AO3

AN: Oooooh this chapter is fuuuuun :) I loved writing all this fic but especially this chapter. Also, forgot to mention it last chapter, but yes "Baz in glasses" is BACK baby!!! I love this HC and I will keep putting it in fics until I die. Well, enjoy this chapter :D

Tagging: @jeansjeansjeansjeans

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I have to do a double take of the building. I check the address Baz text sent me, and it’s right. This fancy ass mostly glass white condo is definitely the right place. Well, Baz said his family was rich, maybe they bought him a whole condo for uni? Yeah...

I walk and type in the buzzer code Baz gave me. It rings low and loud, until a very pissed off voice comes on. And it’s definitely not Baz.

“What?!” The posh woman barks out. I instinctively step away.

“Uh, I’m here to see Baz?” I say with extreme caution. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Oh, right, Basilton said you were coming.”

Basilton? What? Okay, not important right now. There’s an obnoxiously loud buzz and the door unlocks. I rush in and go towards the elevator. It’s all cold grey fancy steel. I feel very intimidating as I go up to the twenty fifth floor. Luckily, Baz’s flat is just to the right, so I don’t get lost. (Penny says I get lost turning left.) I knock on the door lightly. A few heavy steps come towards me, then the door swings open, making me take a step back.

This woman is definitely not Baz, but I’m pretty damn sure they’re related. Same skin tone, same grey eyes, same black hair. Though she has a thick white blonde streak at the front. I can’t tell if it’s dyed or natural. She’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans with old Doc Martens. She looks like she just came out from a seventies punk bar, and she was the headline act.

“Uh, hello,” I say very cautiously. “I’m Simon.”

“So, you’re Simon,” she replies with a weird suspicion. “You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Fiona!” I hear Baz shout from behind her. He appears suddenly, glasses on top of his head, hair falling in a lazy wave over his angry face. He's dressed in a loose white shirts and blue jeans we picked out at W Wood. Wait, are jeans his lazy clothes? Huh, odd. He looks good, so whatever.

“Stop picking on Simon,” he growls at the women, apparently called Fiona, glaring viciously. Fiona glares right back.

“I wasn’t picking on him,” she says with bite.

Baz rolls his eyes dramatically. “Of course you weren’t.” He finally looks at me and immediately grins. “Hi, Snow, glad you could make it. This is my Aunt Fiona. Please ignore her. She’s over protective, like an old pit bull.”

Fiona scoffs loudly and smacks his arm. “I am not old, you wanker! I’m only thirty eight!”

“Not the important thing here. Now, Fiona, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He raises one eyebrow impossibly high. Fiona glares even harder.

“This is my apartment, y’know.”

“Our apartment now. And you’re going to Nicky’s. Seriously, why don’t you two just get a flat together and give me the place to myself 24/7?”

Fiona rolls her eyes. Wow, I can see where Baz gets it from. “Please, we’re too new for that.”

“You’ve known each other since high school.”

“But only been dating for a few months. We’re still in the sexy honeymoon phase, Basil,” she says with a wink. My cheeks heat up, Baz is obviously unimpressed, and Fiona looks very smug. I feel like I’m intruding on a much larger conversation.

“Fiona,” Baz sighs, “please, just go see your boyfriend. Come back tomorrow.”

She sighs over dramatically. “Fine. Leave my kitchen and living room in working order by the time I come back, please.”

Baz sighs in the exact same way. “Yes, of course, now go!”

Fiona walks past me, patting my shoulder as she goes. “Nice meeting you, Simon. Have fun.” Her nails dig into my skin for a brief moment. Not enough to really hurt but enough to sting. I don’t think she likes me that much...

Baz physically pushes Fiona out the door. She flips him off. He groans and gestures me inside. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in. I’ve almost got supper ready.”

I follow in after him, unzipping my hoodie, since this fancy place is certainly well heated. “It’s fine, man. I didn’t know you lived with your Aunt.”

“Yeah, sorry, never came up. She lives close to campus so it was easier to just take her extra room instead of trying to find another place. And I think my parents want her to spy on me for them.”

I chuckle as I kick off my trainers. “And how is that working out? She didn’t strike me as someone who would tattle to your parents.”

Baz’s lip pulls up into a smirk. “Well, she likes to be a shit and pretend she’ll tell them about my activities. But at the same time, she let me smoke half her joint last night while we watched Monty Python and ate peanut butter from the jar.”

“Oh my god,” I giggle. “That sounds amazing!’

“It certainly was. Now come on, I’m starved.”

We walk down the short hall into the actual apartment. I have to stop myself from gasping. The whole place is kinda intimidating but cool. It’s like what you see in catalogues. All white walls, modern furniture, and large bay windows with a view of the steel and brick horizon. Though there’s also enough personality to it to show that two people live here. There's lots of photos on the walls of Baz and Fiona and people who look enough like them to be relatives. Some old books are spread out on the coffee table, with lots of sticky notes on the pages in Baz's wispy handwriting. And next to the volumes are rolling papers I can safely assume are Fiona’s. Looks like a fun place to live.

“Just nearly burned supper, goodness,” Baz chuckles.

I follow his voice into the kitchen. It’s all white with fancy high tech chrome appliances. Baz is bending over the oven, making the denim stretch across his arse. I blush and avoid looking. The memory of...that part of his anatomy is still burned into my brain. It never goes away, just fades and pops back up at literally the worst possible moments. Like late at night, persuading my hand to “accidentally” slip into my pants. Or right now, when I really can’t let my hand go anywhere to relieve the heat he makes in my stomach. Fuck, my head hurts.

“Perfect,” Baz says cheerily. “Cooked all the way through.” He pulls out a pan with two herb covered chicken breasts and oily asparagus stalks. He opens the pot on top of the stove. It’s filled with absolutely divine tomato sauce. My eyes get very wide.

“Wow,” I gasp. “When you said you were making supper, I thought you meant boxed pasta or some shit.”

Baz smiles smugly. “I’m classier than that, Salisbury.”

His smirk makes my stomach even hotter. I shrug. “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Damn right. Now go sit down, I’ll bring the plates out in a second.”

He gestures to the large glass dining table near the window. There’s two rich crimson placemats across from each other, twin wine glasses already filled. The lights are low, matching the setting sun. Everything is soft orange, red, and violet. It’s really nice. This is the fanciest supper set up I've ever seen. And Baz did it for me. He's so nice. My knees wobble a bit as I take my chair. Baz soon comes out with two full plates.

“Dinner is served,” he announces grandly, placing the food in front of me. It’s chicken, asparagus, and some unfamiliar rice dish. It’s got lentils, fried onions, chickpeas, macaroni noodles, and that amazing tomato sauce all on top. My mouth immediately starts watering.

“Thank you,” I reply as he sits down. I wait for him to unfold his napkin and everything to be polite. Mum taught me that. But it’s hard. I really want to eat.

Baz gives me an amused look. “Dig in, Snow, I can see you salivating all the way from over here.”

I roll my eyes, but still grab my utensils. “Shut up.” I put a large forkful of rice in my mouth, and it’s a flavour explosion. My tastebuds are singing with joy. I’ve never had something this good. I start shovelling huge bites in, making Baz snort with laughter.

“You like it?” he asks with amusement.

“Uh, fuck yeah! What is this, ambrosia?”

Baz chuckles and shakes his head, “No, just some good spices. That’s called koshari. It’s a very famous dish in Egypt. I’m half Egyptian, so I wanted to try to make it. Connect to my heritage and all.”

I try to smile, but my mouth is partially filled with koshari, so it’s difficult. “That’s awesome. Like, it’s really cool you’ve got that connection to your culture and stuff. Plus it’s just like super delicious.”

He half smiles, lifting his wine glass like a true gentleman, “The chef appreciates your compliments.”

I lift my own and clink our cups together. Like we’re fancy or something. “You’re very welcome.”

We trade easy conversation as we eat. Baz has completely caught up in his classes. Actually, he’s probably ahead. He’s incredibly smart so I’m not surprised. I’m getting better at paying attention in class. Penny gave me a fidget spinner, which I think was supposed to be a joke, but it’s actually helped me channel some of that restless energy. Plus I’m just super interested in our therapy unit. It’s what I study social work for, to help people. Baz calls me exceedingly noble. From his small smile, I assume it’s a compliment.

Once dinner is finished, we put our plates in the sink. I try to start washing but Baz slaps my hand away.

“None of that,” he says resolutely. “I’ll do it later.”

I put my hands in my pockets. I know there’s no point in arguing with him, amazing stubborn bastard. “Alright. What should we do? I don’t really feel like going home yet.”

A strange look crosses over his face. Both nervous and excited maybe? It’s so fleeting I can’t tell before it’s gone. He nods slowly. “Want to watch a movie? I’ve got Fiona’s Netflix account.”

“Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

We walk over to Fiona’s pristine white couch. I flop down while Baz sits properly, ankles crossed, straight back, hands in his lap. Jeez, he can still be so uptight sometimes. He flips down his glasses, probably so he can actually see the TV. Fuck, they really do look good on him. I have to make an effort not to stare.

“What should we watch?” I ask. “Horror? Comedy? Drama?”

Baz shrugs. “Well, I only watch documentaries, which you’d probably find very boring. So I leave the choice up to you, Salisbury.” He hands me the remote like a gentleman offering a bouquet. I take it graciously.

“Oh thank you kind sir,” I say in my poshest accent. Baz rolls his eye and chuckles.

I flip through Netflix for a little while. Well, Baz wasn’t lying about only watching documentaries. All his recently watched are movies about forests and wars and violinists. Bo-ring! I go to the romcom section, because I love stupid tropey shit. Penny calls me a hopeless romantic. I just like that everything works out in the end. Real life isn’t usually like that. It’s nice to pretend. So I pick “Notting Hill”. It’s one my favourites.

“Dear Lord,” Baz mutters part way in, “what is this?”

“It’s a rom com,” I reply.

“So, I’m supposed to believe that a movie star just happens to wander into this guy’s store? And she kisses him impulsively? Seriously?”

I playfully smack his arm. Wow, his hands are rough, his arms are smoother than sea glass. “It’s not supposed to be realistic, it’s supposed to be fun.”

He snorts. “Well, all I can focus on is the plot holes.”

I sigh. My head, heavy from food drowsiness, lolls to my right. It takes me a bit too long to realise it’s fallen on Baz’s shoulder. Shit, didn’t mean to do that. He’s incredibly tense, every muscle pulled tight. I nearly move off, but then he relaxes. His legs uncross, and his hands fall to beside his sides. So, I guess this is okay. And his shoulder, despite it’s boney-ness, is actually really comfy. Yeah. this is cool. I’ll just stay here.

The movie keeps going, but it kind of falls to background noise for me. I know it off by heart anyway. I’m more focused on other things for some reason. Like the feel of Baz’s soft shirt on my cheek. Or that his whole jean covered leg is pressed against mine. Or how close his rough farmer-violist hand is to mine. I’ve only held it a couple times, and only loosely. I do wonder...

Before thinking about it too much, I reach over and grab his hand. Baz inhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t pull away. Our hands rest together. We stay like that for awhile. Watching the movie, just casually holding hands. Normal friend stuff. His skin is still as scratchy as I remember, creating sparks of sensation all over my palm. And his fingers are quite long. Pianist fingers, I think that’s the term. They’re nice. I like his hand. I like holding it.

Eventually, I lift my head up, and my eyes flick over to him. I just want to see if he’s enjoying the movie. Holy shit, he’s looking back. His grey eyes are staring right at me. It almost feels like he’s looking through me they’re so piercing. It makes me shudder involuntarily. His eye move lower, to... Wait is he looking at my-

And then he kisses me.

Holy shit. A guy is kissing me. More importantly, Baz is kissing me. His face is so close to mine, black hair falling around us, glasses pushing against my nose. Baz’s lips are smooth, soft, and kinda cold. Well, not cold, just chilly, like an ocean breeze. It feels nice. His kiss feels nice. Oh my god, I’m musing about a guy kissing me, about how much I like it. What the hell?!

Our mouths are still, just pressed together chastely. Like we're a pair of awkward pre-teends having out first kiss. But really I’m too stunned to move. Then Baz pulls away slightly. His eyes are a bit glassy and his breathing is unsteady. “Is this okay?” he whispers.

That’s a really good fucking question. Am I okay with this? My lips are still tingling, and my pulse is hammering in my ears. Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get close to him again. I nod. “Yeah,” I reply breathlessly, “yeah, it’s okay.”

Baz smirks, pushing his glasses on top of his head before kissing me again. He’s less hesitant this time, moving his mouth more insistently and curling his long fingers around my nape. I try to match his pace, try to pull him closer too, clutching his shirt in tight fists. I just want him so close. I let out an involuntary moan when his nails prick my skin. The slight sting makes everything go spinny. My mouth falls open, and I moan again as his tongue slowly slides across mine. Holy shit, why does this feel so much better than any kiss I’ve had before? I’ve only snogged a few of people, so it’s not like I’ve got a ton of experience, but I’ve got enough. And this is by far the best snog I’ve ever had.

I don’t even realise I’ve been leaning back until I’m laying down with Baz over me. He’s got one hand in my hair, the other trailing along my side, and a leg between mine. I’m holding his hips, dangerously close to going under his shirt. I really want to feel those muscles I saw in the changeroom, but I don’t want to do anything like that without Baz’s permission. Consent is necessary and all. But suddenly, without even moving off my mouth, Baz grabs my wrist and shoves my hand right under his shirt. Okay, pretty damn sure that’s consent. I trace the ridges and planes of muscle in his back, memorising the how ridiculously good they feel. He groans into my mouth. It makes my whole body shudder. And I full on gasp when he grinds his knee between my legs. My whole brain fucking explodes. Oh man, I am certainly “reacting” very, very strongly right now.

Through all the arousal haze, I wonder if this, what we’re doing, means I’m gay. But I don’t want to kiss Baz because he’s a guy. I want to kiss Baz because he’s Baz. Because he’s nice and funny and watched Doctor Who for me. And sure, he’s also really pretty with his wavy black hair and deep sea eyes. But anyone would notice that. I’ve noticed that other guys are pretty before. I can be straight and observant, right? I don’t know. It’s all too confusing to think about now. I just want to keep holding Baz. I have to do that.

Fuck, how long has he wanted this? How long have I wanted this? I would say I didn’t, but then why are a list of things I want to do to Baz? Like this; I push a hand into his hair. The strands are soft, slipping through my fingers, just like I thought. I clench my fist and shove his face more into mine.

Suddenly, Baz pulls off my mouth.

“Sorry,” I say (I’m out of breath it’s embarrassing.)

“No, no, don’t be sorry. Just,” he takes a breath, “want to continue this somewhere more comfortable?”

I’m panting very hard, but so is he. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, lips swollen and wet. He looks fucking hot. My whole body is vibrating with energy. I want to pull him down and kiss him until our mouths are sore. And well, this couch is a bit small to stay here for that long. So I nod. “Sure, sounds good.”

Baz grins, showing all his bright white teeth. “Wonderful.”

He climbs off me. His legs are shaky, but when I stand up, mine are too. Baz turns off the telly and takes my hand, leading me down the narrow hall towards a room. Once we enter, it’s very obvious that this is Baz’s room. It’s extremely neat because of course Baz is a clean freak. But the desk is covered in a mess of books and sheet music. His violin case sits in the corner. I wonder if I’ll ever hear him play.

We stop in front of the large bed. His sheets are all black, and they look like silk. Well, that's definitely more comfortable than the couch. Baz turns towards me. His face is lit up by the setting sun, skin glowing perfectly in the fiery light. Wow, he’s somehow even prettier right now. But, is he nervous? He’s chewing on his lip, and the hand I’m not holding keeps flexing. I guess he is. Huh, I haven’t seen him anxious since the W Wood. And right now he’s much worse.

“So,” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “how far do you want to go? We could just keep snogging, that’s fine with me. Or we could do more. Whatever you feel like, I’ll be fine with.”

Fucking hell he’s so considerate. It makes my heart speed up, for some reason. But, what do I want? I want to touch him, to kiss him a lot. For him to kiss me and touch me too. Maybe in places other than my lips. Actually, fuck "maybe", I desperately want that, the need itching under every part of my skin. Even though I've never wanted a guy to do that before. Even though I’m straight. I’m trying not to think too much about those contradictions and focus on how good kissing him felt. I really don’t need a headache at this time.

“I-I’m good for anything.” Wait no, not right. “But not ‘all the way’, though. I don’t think I’m prepared for that, in every sense of the word.”

Baz chuckles, his other hand grabbing mine. “That’s fine, no worries. Neither am I, to be honest. But there’s lots of other stuff we can do.”

I look down at the floor, stomach twisting terribly with nerves. “Um, if I’m being honest, Baz, I, uh, have no clue what to do. I’ve never done this before, with a guy.”

He doesn’t say anything. I expected him to laugh, to tease me at least a bit, but instead I feel his rough pianist finger knock up my chin. His mouth is soft, and his eyes are kind and understanding. Why are my knees so weak? “It’s okay, you don’t have to be nervous. We can try things, but you can absolutely stop me if I you want to, alright?” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, taking a moment to trace my jaw with a single callused fingertip. “I’ll take care of you, Simon.”

Bloody Hell, I’m not sure I have knees anymore now.

We lean forward simultaneously, lips instantly moulding together like we’ve been kissing forever. It feels so fucking good that I barely notice him pushing up my shirt. He pulls away when he reaches my arms. His face asks the silent question, and I nod in reply. He pulls the shirt over my head and tosses it to the side. I push at the hem of his. He happily helps me get it off, whipping it on the floor. My hands instantly go to his bare torso and chest. I try to touch all of it. Stomach, chest, shoulders, everything. I feel every bit of smooth skin and sharp angle, and they’re just as wonderful as I imagined.

“You’re actually perfect,” I murmur.

Baz smirks. He clenches his stomach, showing off his stupid perfect abs. I can’t suppress the squeak that pops out of my mouth.

“Why thank you,” he drawls sarcastically. I scoff, hoping it makes up for my red cheeks. He slowly runs his hand over my bare side the across my stomach. My whole body feels electric. I shiver and sigh. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself, Snow.”

I attempt to laugh off my embarrassment. “T-Thanks.”

He kisses me softly again, arms winding around my neck. I hold his waist tightly. I nearly pull him over as Baz spins me around and pushes me on the bed. He stands over me, cupping my cheeks as we keep kissing. Soon he breaks away and starts trailing his cool lips slowly down my neck. It feels so good my eyes roll back in my head. I fall back on the mattress, propped up on my elbows, legs still hanging off the edge. He goes further and further. Across my collarbone, down my sternum and stomach, until he reaches just above my trouser waistband. Baz looks up from where he’s kneeling between my legs, eyes so dark I can only see the smallest ring of grey, and places a tentative hand over the button.

“May I?” he asks breathlessly.

I’m gripping the sheet so hard my knuckles are white. I can’t tell if it’s from nervousness or anticipation. Probably both. I know what he means. I know what he wants to do. Part of me is still confused by my own desire, but a louder part is only thinking in sex. In “yes, yes, please, more, do it.” And it’s a lot louder.

“Yeah,” I say, falling fully onto my back, "you can.”

I lay there, staring at the blemish free white ceiling, breathing harshly, just waiting. Everything is quiet. The only sound is the distant honks from far below and my own clamorous heartbeat. Baz doesn’t do anything for awhile and I start to think if I fucked up somehow. Am I too eager? Has he changed his mind? Is this all one big stupid mistake?

But then he pulls my pants down and takes me in his mouth. Then, well, I’m not thinking very much at all anymore.

———————————————-

I roll off Baz and flop next to him on his bed. We’re both panting and sweating and a bit sticky, bare bodies glistening in the city lights. It’s very dark out now. The sun set awhile ago. I manage to twist my still dizzy head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. Holy shit, we just spent over two hours having sex. My muscles are totally dead, throbbing with blissful exhaustion.

And it hits me, again: I just had sex with Baz, with a guy, and I really, really liked it.

So does this mean I'm gay? But I liked it because it was Baz, not because it was a guy. He was so patient, so attentive, pushing just enough to get me to try new things but never so far that I was uncomfortable. I'm still unbelievably confused, but mostly just really fucking satisfied.

“Wow,” I say, voice raw and scratchy. “That was just, wow.”

Baz tries to chuckle, but his voice isn't much better than mine. “Had fun, Snow?”

“Uh, yeah! That was like the best sex I’ve ever had.” It’s only after the words burst out do I realise how fucking embarrassing that sounds. Baz laughs, of course. I cover my burning face. “I’ll shut up now,” I groan.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed, darling.” Baz peels my hands off, grinning face now hovering over mine. I can feel his foot pressed to my bare calf. He kisses my knuckles lightly. A thousand butterflies take off in my stomach. “It was really good for me too.”

His face is shiny with sweat, wavy hair all tangled because I kept pulling it (not that he complained). The city light dances across his skin perfectly. There’s a lot more butterflies flying now. I cup the back of his head and pull his mouth down to mine. I just want to be closer to him right now. It’s not urgent like before. It’s simply a lazy slide of our tired mouths, a calm way to end the frantic evening.

Baz pulls back slowly. His breath tickles my face. Then he collapses on top of me, face buried in the crook of my neck. I snort out a laugh I can’t help. He’s just too adorable.

“You tired, Basilton?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “And don’t use my full name. Only my family does that.”

“But it’s so funny! Your name is fucking Basilton Grimm-Pitch. You sound like an Edgar Allan Poe character.”

He chuckles against my skin. “Then you’ll love my first name.”

My heart does double time. I look down at him as best I can. “What the hell is your first name?!”

I feel his shit eating grin on my collarbone. “A man is allowed to have a few secrets, Snow.”

Damn, I really want to throttle the smug perfect bastard. He groans as pushes himself off me, slowly rolling onto his back then sitting upright, legs hanging off the edge. He stretches his arms to the sky, showing the grand muscular expanse of his back. (There are a lot of angry red scratches from my nails. Fuck, I was really into it.)

“I don’t know about you,” he yawns, “but I’m completely knackered. I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.” His head turns halfway, showing just one eye, gaze slightly unsteady. Is he nervous again. “You want to stay? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Honestly, I’m not sure my muscles are strong enough right now to get me home. Even so, I do want to go. So I nod. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

His mouth quirks up. “Good.”

Baz slips on his boxers and hands me mine. He leads me to the washroom. It’s huge and pristine and white of course. Baz gives me a fresh toothbrush, which is really thoughtful, because he’s really thoughtful. The vain bastard keeps hogging the mirror though. Once we’re done with our teeth, we go back to the bedroom and Baz takes out his posh red silk pyjamas. He tries to offer me a pair but I’m fine with an oversized t-shirt that looks totally unworn.

“That thing?” Baz says slightly disgusted. “I got that from the overeager poet’s society back at Oxford.”

Huh, makes sense. It does have a Byron joke on it. I shrug. “Eh, it’s fine. Kinda funny too.”

Baz waves dismissively. “Very well. You can keep it if you want. I’m not going to wear it.”

I pull at the hem. Well, if he’s offering, sure. It’s really comfy. And or some reason, I sort of like the idea of keeping this shirt. Keeping Baz’s clothes...it’s just sorta nice.

I flop down on the silk sheets and immediately sink into the comfy mattress. It’s like a goddamn smooth cloud. I’m already drifting off into dreamland when Baz lays next to me. He pulls the quilt over us. Distantly, I feel his long arm drape across my waist and his body curl around mine. His breath hits the back of my neck, almost immediately evening out in sleep. I instinctively snuggle closer, because he feels good. This whole night has felt good. Maybe I should just focus on that instead of the storm in my brain. Yeah, I’m fine with that.

———————————————-

I’m waiting for Baz at Goat while trying to do my readings. He meets me after class, then we have lunch and talk. We’ve been hanging out a lot more on campus the past three weeks, ever since I slept over. I do that a lot more too, actually. I go to his place at least once a week, usually more. Sometimes we just eat supper, maybe watch a movie, then fall asleep in Baz’s bed. Other times we use the bed for...other things.

I’m still straight though. That's still how I think of my self. I just also like this, whatever it is. It’s a sorta weird but awesome friends with benefits thing. I think. We haven’t really defined it. But whatever. We’re having fun. Who needs labels?

“Hello, love.” Baz’s hand is a comfortable weight on my shoulder. He bends around the back of the chair and kisses me. It’s just a short, sweet greeting kiss. He does this a lot now. I like it. I smile against his mouth.

“Hi,” I reply as he sits down across from me. “How was class?”

Baz stretches out his hand. “Well, my fingers hurt, so very good. How was your’s?”

I lift up my heavy textbook. “Professor Blowhard assigned extra readings again, of course. Does he realise we have lives outside of class?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care, obviously. Because he's a dickhead.”

“Damn right. I need scones to feel better.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. Ebb already getting our food ready?”

“Ebb’s finished your food.” I jolt slightly. When did Ebb get here? Did she manifest out of thin air? She holds two plates with our usuals. A latte, sour cherry scone, and grilled cheese with tomato and spinach for me. (Baz suggested I try the last one, so Ebb made it, and it’s really good.) And a fancy turkey-pesto panini and pumpkin mocha breve for Baz.

Baz smiles up at her. He’s gotten very friendly with her. “Good day, Ebb. How’s it going?”

Ebb shrugs. “Pretty okay. I sort of want some new dishware but I’m not sure I have the funds for it.”

“Well, Christmas is coming up. Maybe I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ebb laughs and ruffles Baz’s already messy hair. She’s very friendly with him by now. “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Baz. Sweet of you to say though. He’s certainly a keeper, Si.”

She winks at me before sauntering off. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I flick my eyes over to Baz. He’s taking a sip from his overly large coffee cup. When he lowers it, there’s whipped cream on the tip of his long nose. I snort and giggle. Baz’s brow furrows.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, actually genuinely concerned. He’s always very concerned about his appearance. It’s funny, and kind of cute.

I reach out and use one finger to swipe the whipped cream off. His nose scrunches like an adorable child. I hold it for him to see.

“You’re making a mess,” I tease, then lick my finger. Baz’s eye go wide, and he might blush. It’s hard to tell sometimes, what with his complexion and being emotional display repulsed British gentry. I’m not sure why though. I just don’t like wasting food.

“Christ, Simon,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His eyes flick up to mine and he smirks. That expression makes my stomach do a lot of funny things. “Like you’re one to talk about messes," he says. "My kitchen is still recovering from your pizza debacle.”

“It turned out to be good frozen pizza though.”

“Yes, at the sacrifice of a clean oven.”

I shrug, reaching my foot out to tap his for emphasis. “I’ll destroy my own next time, alright?”

He goes a step further, tracing the toe of his Oxford on my bare ankle. It makes me jolt, but in a good way. Baz seems to have that effect on me.

“Hm, y’know, I haven’t been to your place yet. Invite me over for oven destroying pizza sometime?” His voice is smooth as butter. It makes my legs feel weak, even though I’m already sitting down. And he’s right, he hasn’t been over yet. It’s not because of anything, his place has always just been easier. That should be corrected.

“Yeah, sure,” I chirp, “I’d like that. Though my flatmate might interrogate you. She still isn’t sure she approves of you.”

Baz shrugs dismissively. “Understood. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’ll warm up to me. I’m very likable.”

I scoff. “And full of yourself.”

He pushes his foot until it’s fully under my jean cuff. I yelp  in surprise. “Got you to like me, didn’t I?”

Shit, why is my face so flushed? I try to use my book to cover it, but my eyes peek out over the top. Baz is still smirking, still slowly moving his shoe up and down my skin. It’s sort of hard to say no when he’s doing that. Bastard. “That’s true, I suppose,” I say shakily.

“Exactly.” He leans forward on the table, chin cradled in his palm. “Want to come over tonight? Fiona’s at Nicky’s again. Those two need to just move in together already.”

“Yeah, agreed. And I can come over as long as you help me revise for a midterm.”

“Very well,” he sighs dramatically. “If that’s the price I must pay for a good shag.”

And I thought my blush couldn’t get any worse. I use a hand to cover my bright red face. “Baz,” I giggle, “shut up.”

He chuckles and slowly peels my hand away. I’ve found his violin calluses feel weirdly wonderful on my skin. “I’ll help you, love, don’t worry.”

Fuck, he’s always so nice. Just so kind and helpful and fun to be around. He’s like Penny, I guess, but our dynamic doesn’t feel like me and Penny. Not better, just different. My heart and stomach don’t feel twisty around her. And I definitely don’t want to snog Pen silly. Baz is just different. Whatever we have is different. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. And I certainly don’t want to stop.

———————————————-

A week later, Baz is scheduled to come over. I’m trying to salvage my stupid homemade stupid pizza when there’s a knock at the door. I run over still wearing the apron and oven mitts as I open it. Baz is standing on the other side, gym/overnight bag slung over his shoulder. He blinks at me confused, eyes big behind his glasses. (He’s been wearing them more. That's good. He looks amazing, and he needs to see.)

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, kissing him hello by habit.

“Good evening, Snow,” he says. “Nice apron.”

I look down. Right, this is Pen’s “Snog the Chef” apron. Micah sent it to her as a joke. He made the false assumption she cooks enough to need one. Both of us usually cook from a box or order take away. I chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. Still trying to make supper. Come in, come in.”

I race back to the kitchen, leaving Baz in the living room. I can still see him through a small square space in the wall. (The previous tenant had a thing for cutting random holes in the wall.) He scans the room, taking in his surroundings.

“Hm,” he says thoughtfully. “Nice place.”

I laugh loudly so he can hear me. “You don’t have to be nice, y’know. I’m aware it’s gross. I tried to clean a bit.”

“I’m serious, it’s nice. Love all the Polaroid pictures. Is this blonde girl your roommate?”

“Uh, no, that’s Agatha. The other girl, Penelope, she’s my flatmate. We all went to high school together.”

“I see, that’s nice. You all look happy.”

I lean out the weird window hole. Baz is looking at the picture from the summer, when we all went to Agatha’s family beach house. I smile. That was a happy time.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Summer before final year. Can’t tell Agatha was about to break up with me a few weeks later, huh?”

It’s a joke, but I immediately regret it. Baz tenses up. Shit, that’s a serious topic, and I shouldn’t talk about Agatha like that.

“There’s no bad blood though,” I say quickly. “Like, it sucked when we split up but it was for the best in the end. We’re way better as friends. She lives in California now. She skypes me and Pen a lot, tells us all about America and shit. I sent her a British flag for Christmas last year, and she sent me a California one.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m babbling, sorry, I’ll stop.”

Baz turns his head. He’s smiling, no anger or disappointment, thank God. “It’s fine, love, don’t worry. She sounds lovely. I’m not jealous. Unless I have a reason to be.”

His raised eyebrows and toothy grin tells me he’s joking. I chuckle. Why would he have a reason to be jealous anyway? I mean, Agatha’s pretty, but so is he. “No, you definitely have no reason. Maybe I’ll introduce you two sometime. You can compare expensive hair products.”

“Hey, you like my hair.”

“Yeah, but I’ve also seen how many bottles you have in your shower. And how many bottles did you bring with you tonight?”

Baz doesn’t answer. I snicker as I pull my pizza out of the oven. Well, it’s not much of a pizza anymore. Sort of a dough, cheese, and sauce liquid mess in a pan. I groan and lean my head on the cupboard over the oven.

“Trouble with supper, love?”

I look up. Baz is leaning in the window hole, arms crossed over the sill and head on his bent elbow. He looks nice like this, relaxed and all. Huh, he really is a lot less uptight than he was two months ago. That’s good, I suppose. I smile weakly.

“I think this pizza is even more of a disaster than the last one. And this time it’s completely inedible.”

He frowns sarcastically. “Aw, what a surprise.”

I take a mitt off and throw it at his stupid smug pretty face. “Fuck off, I tried!”

Baz doesn’t looked fazed by the glove projectile, just holding it as he smiles. “I know, darling, and you did your best. Now, shall I order take away?”

I sigh, shaking off the other mitt so they lay in a messy pile on the counter. “I guess so. But I’m paying for it. I was supposed to make you a nice supper, I should at least pay for the substitute.”

“Well, I certainly have no problem with that.”

I turn off the oven and take off the dumb apron. With heavy steps and hanging head, I go into the living room. Baz immediately reaches out and pulls me against him, hugging me close. I wrap my arms around his firm back, easily sinking into his embrace. He smells nice. Like cedar and bergamot, I think.

“Want to watch a movie?” he whispers, breath tickling my ear.

“Sure,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you like Pixar?”

He chuckles. It’s a really nice sound, washing over me like a warm, relaxing wave. “Yeah. Pixar is wonderful.”

We don’t move for a bit though. We just stay there, hugging in the middle of my living room. He’s a good hugger, so I don’t mind. I just close my eyes, breathe in his smell, and let his strong, firm arms hold me.

———————————————-

“Why does Buzz go still?” Baz asks. “He doesn’t think he’s a toy. Why would he pretend to be one when a person walks in?”

“Shhh.” I reach up to blindly hit his stupid smart arse mouth. “You’re ruining the movie.”

“I’m simply pointing out a flaw in the film’s plot.”

“Just shut up and watch, arsehole.”

Baz makes a displeased noise, but does thankfully shut up. Our half eaten take away pizza is still sitting on the coffee table. The sun has mostly set, the light of the telly the main source now. I’m junk food tired so I’ve ended up with my head in Baz’s lap. His legs are comfortable. And I like the way he strokes my hair. I could probably fall asleep like this if I wanted.

“Sorry again about supper,” I mumble into his thigh.

Baz hums softly, winding a finger around one of my curls. “It's fine, love. You made the effort, that's what counts. And I appreciate it.”

I hum, throwing an arm over his knees. “You’re nice.”

Bizarrely, he scoffs at that. “You’re the first person to say that, Snow. Most people say I’m rude and mean.”

“You're not, they're all wrong," I say immediately, almost angry for him.

He pauses for a moment, hand still in my hair. "You really think so?" he asks, voice slightly shaky.

"Yeah, of course. You tease me but you also made me supper and watched Doctor Who. That means a lot. You’re, like, snarky nice. Fuck, does that even make sense?”

Baz runs his thumb over the nape of my neck. “No, I get it. Thank you, darling, you’re incredibly sweet.” He brushes his long fingers against my ear. “Sometimes I wonder how I found you,” he sighs.

I chuckle, sound muffled by his trouser leg. “You ‘found me’ in a boring psych lecture, remember?”

“Yeah,” he whisper-laughs. “Glad I did though. Honestly...” He takes an audible breath, like he’s getting ready to jump off a cliff or something. “I think you’re the best thing to come out of moving to Watford.”

My mouth suddenly feels dry. And my heart is bruising my ribs it’s beating so hard. That was definitely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. But it doesn’t feel like when Penny or Agatha or Mum are nice. It feels so...new. I wish there was a more eloquent word for it, for what I feel when he says something like that. It’s an all encompassing sensation I've never experienced before. Like a supernova in my brain and chest. I just can’t place it.

The end credit music starts playing. I turn my head back to the screen. “Oh hey, it’s done,” I say. “Wanna watch something else?”

I can’t see Baz’s face, but I feel him lean back against the sofa. “Sure. Anything in mind?”

“Actually, yeah, I've got something. You’ll like it.” I fumble for the remote, then start flipping through my Netflix list. I know it’s there... “Aha! This!” I highlight a movie I found yesterday. Baz leans forward with curiosity.

“A documentary on an Australian string quartet?” He chuckles. “Really?”

Shit, I thought he would like it because there are string instruments and stuff in it. But it’s not like every chef adores cooking shows. “S-Sorry, it was just an idea. We can watch something else.”

Baz puts an arm around my waist and squeezes my stomach tight. I immediately relax. “No, that wasn’t a discouragement. I’m very intrigued. I’m just surprised you’re offering to watch it. It’ll be quite dull for you.”

I shrug. “Eh, maybe. But you’ll like it, and I’m willing to try.”

Baz doesn’t answer. Well, not with words. His arm holds me even tighter, and he leans down to kiss my hair. His cool lips press lightly to my scalp. I can’t help the shudder it makes. When he pulls back, he goes back to to softly stroking my hair. I feel like I could melt into the couch.

“Put it on,” Baz sighs. “Try not to fall asleep, Snow.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say, meaning it genuinely.

So the movie is objectively boring for me, because I'm not a violin student, and I’m not a huge fan of documentaries period. But there are some good parts. I like the people, following their progression and lives and how their careers influence everything around them. Baz likes that too. Though he’s also fascinated by all the fancy instruments. I just think they’re all really pretty.

“Hey,” Baz asks, “where’s your flatmate?”

“Oh she’s-” The front door suddenly slams, making both of us jolt. A few footstep sounds later, Penny is standing right in front of us. “She’s right here. Hi, Pen.”

Penny is frozen. She blinks at us in complete silence for a few long seconds. I don’t know what’s so baffling. “Hi... What’s going on here?”

“Baz and I are watching a movie.” What’s going on with her? Pretty sure that was obvious.

She quirks an eyebrow. “So this is Baz?”

“Oh right.” I gesture to her. “Baz, this is Penelope Bunce.” I gesture to him. “Penny, this is Baz Grimm-Pitch.”

“Hello, Penelope," Baz says smoothly. "May I call you that?”

“Um, sure.”

“Wonderful. Pleasure to finally meet you.” He offers his hand like the gentleman he is.

Cautiously, Penny takes the handshake. “Same for me. Good to put a face to the name.”

“Likewise.”

Their hands fall. Penny has a weird expression on her face. Her eyes keep flicking between me and Baz, looking positively perplexed. I don’t get it. We’re just watching a movie. She said it was okay to bring Baz over, but it still must be weird for her to have someone new around. She doesn’t like new people.  But Baz is going to be hanging around with me indefinitely, so they should probably get more comfortable with each other.

“Wanna watch and eat with us?” I ask. “Pizza is lukewarm but still good.”

She seems even more confused, head pulling back and mouth twisting for a moment. “Uh, sure, if that’s alright with both of you.” She looks pointedly at Baz.

“It’s perfectly fine with me. Snow’s the one taking up the entire sofa.”

I scoff and smack his knee. “Fuck off.” I swing my legs dramatically, putting myself upright. It makes my vision spin a bit, so I fall against Baz, head on his shoulder. I don’t think he minds though. “There, happy?”

He chuckles and throws an arm around me, pulling us even closer together. “Positively elated, Snow.” He presses a sloppy wet kiss to my cheek. I make a disgusted noise as I wipe it off.

“Arsehole.” I kiss his cheek too. Fair’s fair. I look up, and Penny’s eyes are incredibly wide. I gesture at her. “C’mon, Pen, there’s room now.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Alright then."

She sits down, but closer to the other end. Weird. I try to make more room, putting my legs over Baz’s, pressing against him. But she doesn’t move any closer. Actually, she moves further away. Weird, but I get wanting your own space. She is watching the movie intently though.

“This is good,” she says through her pizza. “That violin is incredible.”

“It’s called the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius,” Baz interjects. “Made by Antonio Stradivari of Cremona in 1713. Many say his string instruments are the greatest ever made. He’s estimated to have made 960 violins, 650 of which are still around. What I wouldn’t give to play a Stradivarius.”

“Right," Penny chuckles. "Simon said you were a violinist.”

“Yup, he is,” I say. “Which makes him a total music nerd.”

Baz flicks my far ear then kisses the other. “Says the Doctor Who nerd. And not just music. I enjoy history and English language too.”

“Hey, so does Penny! She never shuts up about that book about working people.”

“‘The Making of The English Working Class’ by EP Thompson, Si,” Penny says with some exasperation. “It’s an interesting read.”

Baz makes a contemplative sound. He’s good at those. “I’ll have to look it up. Shall we compare notes sometime?”

Penny turns her head. She seems to be examining Baz over her spectacles, brown eyes moving up and down over him. She does that a lot, examines people, like me the first day we met all those years ago. She’s assessing him, figuring out whether he’s worth her time. She decided I was. I can only hope she likes him

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

I breathe out a small sigh of relief. They get along, thank God. Neither of them notice the sigh, but they do notice the loud yawn I can’t help afterwards.

“Tired, Snow?” Baz teases.

“No,” I grumble. I rub my aching eye, which doesn’t help my case.

Baz sighs, then shoves off my legs and stands over me, all tall and looming and handsome. He offers his hand. “Then let’s go to bed. I have an early class tomorrow anyway.”

“Okay.” I take his hand and he hoists me to my feet. I’m a bit wobbly, but Baz keeps me steady with an arm around my waist. Damn, I’m tired. “Can you put away the pizza, Pen? I’ll clean up the rest in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” she says absentmindedly, already flipping to her own show.

“G’night, Pen.”

“Night Si. And Baz.”

“Goodnight, Penelope. Lovely to meet you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I sigh again, because she sounds genuine, and I don’t need two of my best friends feuding. There’s no need for unnecessary drama.

Baz and I wash up quickly. (He hogs the mirror again.) I throw on my usual baggy shirt and sweats. I assumed he brought his ridiculous posh silk pyjamas, but to my surprise he takes one of my Watford sweatshirts and a matching set of grey trackies. I look at him with utter amusement.

“Really?” I chuckle.

“I left my bag in the living room,” he says nonchalantly. “And I don’t feel like going to get it.” His pretty face become nervous for a moment, looking down at the hardwood floor. “Is it alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I curl my fingers in his elastic waistband, making him stumble closer. “You look good. You should wear my clothes more often.”

He chuckles, leaning down to capture my lips. I sigh and melt into it. Baz holds my face, slowly running his finger over my cheek. I encircle his waist. Warmth spreads from my mouth and through my entire body. Damn. No matter how brief or how long, how fast or slow, Baz's kisses are always pretty damn great.

He pulls back slightly, leaving the smallest space between us. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispers against my skin. “Come on, now. I’m tired and so are you. Let’s sleep.”

I yawn right on cue. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Baz pulls me towards the bed. He lays down first, putting his glasses on the nightstand, and I follow, head pillowed on his strong chest. His arms wrap around me tightly. I like when he does that. Baz always makes me feel better just by holding me. How the hell does that work? Why does he feel so unlike any friend I've had before? I don't know. And I don't care, so long as he just keeps holding me.

“Night,” I mumble.

“Night, love,” he sighs.

I drift off with his left hand in my hair, his right tracing circles on my back, and his heartbeat right under my ear.

———————————————-

“Snow? Snow. Simon.”

I groan at the voice disturbing the my sleep. A rough, callused hand shakes my arm. Of course I know who it is, so I don’t even open my eyes.

“What?” I grumble

“I have to go,” Baz whispers. “I’ve got class until seven. Lunch at Goat tomorrow?”

“M-hm.”

“And are you still staying at my place Friday?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you understand anything I just said?”

I roll over, bleary eyes opening slightly. The dawn light doesn’t hurt my eyes too much. Baz is a blur of black, reddish-gold, and grey.

“Goat tomorrow, your flat Friday,” I mumble. “Got it.”

There’s white in the blur now, what I assume are his teeth in a wide grin. He leans forward. “Wonderful. See you later, darling.”

“Bye, love.”

He presses a kiss to my hairline. Even half asleep, I can feel his cool lips on my forehead and the smell of all his fancy products waft up my nose. I listen as his shoes click out the door.

I think I fall asleep again, because when I wake up it’s a lot brighter outside. I groan at the burning sunlight and bring the sheet over my head. I don’t have class until two so I don’t have to get up just yet. I just lay in bed, trying to block out the day. And under those sheets, it hits me that I called Baz ‘love’ for the first time. Huh. Guess his use of cute nicknames is rubbing off on me. It’s new, but so is a lot of stuff we’re doing, and I’ve like it all so far. I think I like this too.

My stomach growls like an angry lion. Guess that’s my cue to get up. I throw off my sheet and immediately shiver. Fuck, it’s chilly. I look over and see that Baz left my sweatshirt folded on my dresser, so I slip it on. I press it to my nose. It still sort of smells like him, a gorgeous mix of his cologne and fancy products. That makes me smile like an idiot, for whatever reason.

I saunter into the kitchen. Penny doesn’t have any class, so she’s sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of textbooks spread out. It’s like the school library threw up on it. The coffee in the pot is old, but I don’t feel like making a new one. So I pour it out and put it in the microwave.

“That’s disgusting, Si,” Penny sing songs.

“Shut up, Pen,” I reply with my most chipper voice. The microwave beeps. I drink from the mug and promptly spit the whole thing out in the sink. Oh Christ, it is disgusting.

“Told you so.”

I glare at her through the kitchen wall hole as I pour the coffee out. I start setting up the kettle for tea instead. Screw coffee. Baz says tea is better for you anyway.

“So,” she says very matter of factly, staring at me through our lovely wall hole, “Baz.”

She doesn’t continue. Nothing to explain what the fuck she’s talking about. She just looks at me with narrow eyes while twirling a pencil in her hand. I blink at her, silence hanging between us, and still nothing.

“Yeah, Baz,” I chuckle.

“You like him?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s cool.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Sort of?”

I shrug, scratching the back of my neck. “He’s nice in the important ways, y’know? Helps me out when I need it and treats me well. But he also teases me. In fun though. I tease him too, and I try to be nice. I hope he thinks I’m nice too.”

The kettle whistles. I get out my Adventure Time mug and a peppermint tea bag. When I look back at Penny, she’s twisting her lips, brow furrowed together, pencil tapping on the table rhythmically. That’s her concerned friend look. She always looks like this when I make a major life decision, or when I attempt cooking.

“And, you’re happy, right?” she asks carefully.

I blink at her in confusion again. That’s a weird question. I’ve been depressed before, sure, but I haven’t lately. So I’m not sure why Penny is concerned with my emotional state. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She chuckles and her concerned look goes away. That’s a relief. I don’t like making Penny worried. “Alright then. As long as you’re happy.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, laughing at the absurdity of this.“Fun talk, Pen. Enjoy studying.”

“Will do. Get to class on time!”

I scoff, walking towards my room with lovely steaming tea in hand. “If I got to class on time, I wouldn’t be Simon Snow Salisbury.”

Penny sighs with exasperation. Now that’s a sound I’ve heard since high school. It’s become weirdly comforting in a way. Penny’s always going to be a bit frustrated with me, and she still loves me anyway.

———————————————-

“Simon, what are you doing this weekend?”

I look up from my fancy grilled cheese, mouth still full. Baz has finished his panini and is now in his “villain position” again. One long leg over the other, bony elbows propped on his armrests, fingers pressed together. It’s still half intimidating-half badass. I swallow my food. Don’t want to be rude with him.

“This weekend?” I ask. “Uh, nothing. I don’t have anything planned. Why?”

He drums his fingers together slowly. Total Bond villain. “Well, I have a proposition for something we could do.”

That makes me put down my food and shift in my chair. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You see, my parents wanted me to come home for the whole break next week. But I couldn’t do that with my practice schedule. I still want to see them though, so I’m driving up for family dinner on Sunday.”

“Okay...”

“And the thing is...” He drums his fingers on the wooden table and chews at his lip. “I’ve mentioned you to them, and they’re wondering if you’d like to come up with me.”

I nearly drop my sandwich. I stare at Baz silently for an inappropriate amount of time. “Your parents," I say cautiously, "want me to come over for dinner?”

He nods slowly, face pinched together in nervousness. “Yes. They’re both eager to meet you, though they may not show it outwardly. But please, love, don’t feel pressured. I told them it might be too soon for this but they can be...insistent. It’s completely up to you though. They’ll survive if you say no.” He rubs his nose under his glasses. “Sorry, this is just a whole mess. I thought about not asking but I wanted to give you the choice.”

“O-Okay.” I nod, like a very slow moving bobble head. Wow, this is just a lot. I haven’t met a friend’s parents since Agatha. And we were dating, which made it very scary. This seems even scarier though. My heart is pulsing too fast. Fuck, why does this feel so intimidating?

Baz grabs my hand, thumb tracing the back of it. It immediately calms me down. “Don’t panic, love, no matter what decision you make I’ll understand. It’s not like we’ll stop speaking if you don’t come to dinner with my pushy, posh parents.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s up to you, love.”

Right, up to me... Fuck. Do I want to meet Baz’s posh family? Even though it’s scary? I mean, I guess it would be nice. They’re probably smart like Baz, cultured too, all that. It sounds intimidating, and it was with Baz at first, but I learned. And maybe I can learn with his family too. I'd like to know more about Baz, be part of another aspect of his life. That's what friends do, right?

“Okay,” I say, “I’d like to come.”

Baz’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It sounds fun, and I’d like to meet your parents. If they’re anything like you, they’ll be posh, really smart, and weirdly nice.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, that’s one way to see them.”

I giggle too, leaning closer to him over the the small table. “Okay, good to know. Anything I should bring?”

“Well, Sunday nights are our ‘fancy dinners’, so we dress up. You’ll have to wear a suit.”

I frown. “I don’t own a suit.”

He nods like some thoughtful scholar. “Hm, alright. Well, I’ve got one you could borrow. Is that alright?”

“Sure. If it fits me, Mr. Tall and Lanky.” I poke his muscular shoulder for emphasis, making him laugh.

“You’re not that much shorter than me, don’t worry. So we’ll go up Sunday afternoon and leave Monday morning. I’ll certainly be drinking, so I don’t want to drive home the night of.”

“Very responsible, love, very responsible.”

Baz chuckles softly, and I do too. He looks me in the eye. All I see is kindness. Who the hell ever said he was an arsehole? He’s actually incredible.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” he asks, his voice still concerned.

I adjust our hands, so we’re smooth palm to scratchy palm, and smile as big as I can. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Baz smiles back. Not as big, but it’s still kind and calm. He leans forward and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

And weirdly enough, neither can I.

———————————————-

AN: So the documentary is real and called "Highly Strung", and the book Penny mentions is real too. Hope you all liked this. I like writing this fluffy definitely-not-a-relationship haha. Tomorrow, "adventure" :)

[dodgebolts]

hiiii lysssss I’ve been mostly offline for the last week but I finally managed to get most of my python code to work but now I can’t figure out how to plot it and I still need to introduce a resetting rate and I have no idea how so I’m loosing my mind a little but it’s fine everything is fine <- said through gritted teeth

also I found a masters program I really love but I would have to pay wayyy too much money to go there (here I would have to pay a few hundred a semester and there it would be almost 30,000 in just tuition fees) and also my average seems to be too low by exactly 0.1 to get in anyway so now I’m feeling kinda shitty…I have a backup plan but it still kinda sucks

in much more fun news eurovision is in a month and having all of the songs to listen to I have to say thats its a pretty decent year overall but I don’t think there’s one song that really stands out across the board for both juries and televoters….I think finland is gonna be the televoters favourite and sweden is gonna sweep the jury vote (they love sweden anyway and they adore loreen) but I still think france could do really well with both but we’ll see. I just hope we won’t be last again

-🌻

YAYYYY THAT'S SO EXCITING I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU! I tried looking up resetting rates but I have 0 experience in either finance or physics so I'm not sure how to help on that but for plotting I would recommend using plotly!! It's a really clean looking data viz library, the same one I used for the MrBeast/Dream data and it's relatively intuitive! Good luck though it sounds tough but I believe in u 🫡

I hope everything works out on the masters' end though, I have to start thinking about that soon and I'm LOST rn trying to figure out exactly where I want to go/what to do so I get the struggle—private universities are annoying when it comes to tuition and it's rough ngl (like my uni's sticker price like $85k a year which is nuts who the fuck would be able to pay that without aid???? why do universities hate us smh) <333

I haven't even thought of esc in a hot minute, I still need to get onto listening to sm but I've seen salty say the year isn't anything special and I trust her on that since she's the resident escposter around dtblr LOL I do hope France does well bc the song fucking slays

[pandadabrek]

i cant fucking believe this

i was struggling to make work redis and eclipse together

like first of all eclipse didnt wanted to import redis, okay i made it work, but then i needed ipv4 to connect them ans the virtual box i had redis on did not had an ipv4. not in class, not in the dorm

but then today i went to my friend's place to try to figure this out

i connected to her wifi, i opened vm and suprise!! i. had. a fucking. ipv4.

i put the ip address in eclipse and it finally fucking worked

(its an other problem that it had some kind of problem with the python code that worked in class, on the uni computer but whatever)

[kaijuno]

same person as before! what do you recommend my base math should be by the end of high school? im a junior in calculus now. do you recommend taking trig ? thank you so much by the way!

Oh yeah you’ll need SO MUCH calc it’s gross. I actually never had trig and that’s a real pain in the ass to have to go back and teach yourself concepts as they apply to whatever you’re trying to actually learn.

Most high schools don’t touch Linear Algebra, Matrix Theory, and Differential Equations, but you will want to take those as early as you can. If the calc class you’re taking right now counts as your calc 1 credit that would be fantastic because you could jump right into calc 2.

Linear Algebra & Matrix Theory are usually taught together in one class, with calc 2 almost always being a pre/corec. Same with Diff. Eq. as well. Calc 3 is usually needed for 300+ level physics classes.

And just as an extra bit, I don’t know how common this is with other unis but all the physics and math courses you have to take for your major would put you 1-2 classes away from a math minor so a lot of people do that. Plus - and I’m pretty sure this is school specific so idk - Intro to computer programming will count as a math elective as well as it teaching you some really important skills (unless they only teach fuckin JAVA for the intro classes fuck u CPS program (java is the worst programming language and you cant really use it for complex math that would be required in physics)) So, if the intro classes at your uni are taught with Java it’s pretty much useless. The languages that physicists use are Python, Matlab, Mathematica, Sage, IRAF and occasionally C. Java is garbage to us. You’ll occasionally see Fortran and it will make you sad because Fortran is ancient and the programming equivalent of Latin. If you ever do research with someone over 60, they’ll probably have all their code written in Fortran and you’ll want to knife fight them because they will probably ask you to rewrite it in Python.

Oh but back to math. Certain things like proofs, topology, group theory, advanced linear algebra and advanced calc are not required, but they help out a lot. A lot of physicists double major with math instead of just a minor. In which case you come out a more well rounded student.