#just telling on myself about what a pretentious nerd i am

[daechwitatamic]

Of course we're interested!

🌴

LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE ANSWERED but here ya go because i love you

Using a read more bc spoilers for section 2

[fish-bowl-2]

Gonna put these two asks together because...yeah, I may end up repeating myself XD. I love all the Eds, but it would be a flat-out lie to say Double Dee is NOT my favorite.

I like how his good and bad qualities play out with his personality. I agree that this makes him feel very real and a lot like an actual kid his age. This is shared by all the Eds, but Double Dee's pretentiousness, anxiety, and fragility are aspects of characters I am especially drawn to. If I were to line up all my favorite fictional characters together with Double Dee, you would most definitely see a pattern.

I like as well how he does not fit neatly in the cookie-cutter role of the "smart friend". He is definitely a huge nerd, but he doesn't "look" like one based on first impressions and design alone (barring season 5 where his dorky cardigans kind of give it away lmao). He also does not feel like a complete know-it-all, nor does it set him above what his friends are doing. He is still a kid, after all, and like a lot of nerdy kids, his knowledge is specific to his particular interests and does not make him immediately more mature than anyone else. Like I stated earlier, it all just makes him more believable.

On a way more personal note, I favor him a lot because, as cheesy as it sounds, he kind of reminds me of myself. Especially at the age of 12-13. Not exactly, but in enough ways that I can still see myself in him. I was also a nerdy kid super into my niche subjects like animals. I would spend recess watching ant hills and read nonfiction books cover to back. I was admittedly rather haughty and a know-it-all, too. I would regularly correct people on inconsequential things and make a huge fuss about it. I still vividly remember getting into fights when other kids could not tell the difference between cheetah and jaguar spots. I was (and kind of still am) an academic over-achiever, as well, that sets my personal standards way too high for any functioning human. Simply put: when I watch Edd, I see a lot of my own qualities when I was a preteen, both the good and the bad, which makes him especially entertaining to me.

[strangecloud]

I am going to do a top 10 favorite video games list for no particular reason

Hello, hey. So these are games that I've greatly enjoyed past and present and appeal to my particular interests and tastes. I like games to tell stories. I don't mean a written narrative with a beginning, middle and end. What I like is what some would call "emergent storytelling", which is a pretentious name but explains adequately how I enjoy my games to be played. I want to come out of a session of a game with a memorable story to tell, or even just remember to myself.

Anyway, here's the list.

10. Minecraft

Minecraft is a modern classic and the reason it's low on the list is because I enjoy it in theory way more than I do in practice. It's probably the platonic ideal of a sandbox game, full of interactible objects that can be refined into new items and materials for crafting, building, and generally just doing whatever you feel like.

And that freedom is what I enjoy about it. In the wacky block-world of Minecraft, you're able to do whatever you want. Build structures, focus solely on crafting the biggest sharpest sword ever, or just get a fishing rod and chill.

What I don't like so much is that singleplayer and the vast majority of public multiplayer servers are really bad at using this freedom to its fullest potential. There's so many possible interactions between entities and players and yet the pubs I've visited focus solely on adding artficial structure to the game, which I find uninteresting. If anyone can recommend a good Minecraft server free of unpleasant externalities, drop it on the comments or reblogs please.

9. Dwarf Fortress

Dwarf Fortress is Minecraft's unhinged grandpa. I believe it has been directly cited as an inspiration for Minecraft way back in the day. It has gained some popularity over the years but I'd wager as lot of people would dismiss it as some nerd game for gatekeeping losers, but there's a genuinely cool core inside it that is the reason everyone likes it so much.

The beating heart of Dwarf Fortress is its world generation. As a traditional roguelike (as in, a game like Rogue), Dwarf Fortress will generate a whole world to your desired specifications not unlike Minecraft. Very unlike Minecraft, however, it will populate the world with factions of historical figures, beasts and other entities and then simulate the history of this realm for as long as you'd like.

This is the part that the brothers Adams, the game's creators, focus the most on, and is the reason the game has earned a spot in the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

As a player, you get to influence this world by either controlling a colony of Dwarves, playing as a custom Adventurer and questing about the land, or just reading the Legends entries to find out what has happened in the vast history you created.

The gripes I have with it are that Adventure mode, my favorite part of the game, isn't very deep or fleshed out currently. The game also suffers from a hellish type of maximalism that makes it almost impenetrable without some sort of guidance and in some cases, external software. Still, it is a crowning achievement in game design and development and is one of the best games of all time, no doubt.

8. Fallout New Vegas

This is a cult classic game developed by Obsidian software under contract for Bethesda. As I understand it, Obsidian included some of the original staff of Black Isle and Interplay who worked on the OG Fallout games, which were isometric turn-based RPGs.

This is the most accessible and faithful Fallout game one can play in current year. The essence of Fallout, for me, has always been a laser focus on the player character. You never get to control your party members, though you can indirectly suggest commands that they will try their best to follow, often unsuccessfully. The game is about the dude or gal you make and play as: you get to customize how they look, what their physical and mental attributes are, and you have minute control over them down to the very words they speak, to the detriment of pretty much everything else.

Complementing that is the setting. West Coast Fallout is the most enthralling setting I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing in any medium, and it's a great playground to put your character designs to the test. You really have to commit to your character and see things from their perspective, and the world is reactive enough to reward you for doing so. OG Fallout and New Vegas are some of the smartest written games in the market and anyone who loves stories should give them a try.

7. PAYDAY 2

As much as I like stories and emergent gameplay, sometimes I'm in the mood to unwind by listening to some bopping music and clicking on bad men with guns. PAYDAY 2 is a co-op shooter in the vein of Left 4 Dead, only instead of shooting crazed zombies you get to shoot crazed cops.

Despite being co-op, most of my hours on it have been spent solo and I wouldn't have it any other way. The game is full of customization options and progression systems to make the arguably repetitive gameplay loop very addicting, and the shooting and movement mechanics put a lot of games to shame to this very day.

There's no shame in enjoying a good old heist and shootout every now and then. I'm not above that.

6. S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Anomaly

Anomaly for me is the perfect STALKER game. In case you are not aware, STALKER is a series revolving around the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, or simply "Zone" for short, in some kind of alternate reality where the incident at Chernobyl was either caused by or resulted in supernatural happenings, known as Anomalies.

As far as I remember, the mainline STALKER games never captured my imagination too much because of their linear progression. STALKER Anomaly remedies this by opening up the world of both Shadow of Chernobyl and Clear Skies and levying the complete potential of the A-Life system.

It reminds me a lot of Dwarf Fortress, in that it is a sandbox game with a deep simulation layer and emergent actors going about their day dynamically in a scale as large as could be reasonably expected of video game software. It doesn't fall into the trap that so many survival games do where the survival challenge takes place in an empty lifeless world that is very, very boring. The world of STALKER Anomaly is full of life, conflict, humor and terror.

5. XCOM 2

I have a complicated relationship with XCOM 2. It's easily my favorite XCOM game due to the sheer level of character customization, from picking how your dudes look to giving them names and bios and then getting to watch them die horribly on the hands of some alien monster. This contrast is very deliberate: the game wants you to get attached to your soldiers to raise the stakes and generate tension.

The strategy is great, with deep combat that is rewarding to learn and a less deep but serviceable micromanaging minigame aboard your base of operations. The thing I don't like about this game is that the high difficulty and the punishing nature of failure make it a very stressful game to play.

When things are going your way, it provides the highest highs. When your squad gets wiped and takes your precious soldiers with it, you're dragged to the lowest lows. It's an intense experience but by no means a boring one.

4. Wildermyth

Wildermyth is the most slept-on game I've ever seen on the market. The best way I can describe it is it's a fantasy-themed strategy RPG with a choose-your-own-adventure storytelling format, but that description doesn't really do it justice.

Wildermyth greatly rewards imagination and creativity. The main feature of the game is being able to import your custom heroes from previous campaigns into later ones as supporting party members or even main characters. And this isn't some token feature made for you to look at your dudes and say "Yeah that's them". The procedural nature of the storytelling means that your characters can interact. They can cause trouble and build relationships, get wounded and even die, all with explicit acknowledgement from the game.

It's a story generator that doesn't skip on telling the story. The little event popups are well written, with lots of attention to detail and variations depending on the relationships and personalities of the characters involved. It's a game I'd easily recommend to anyone who enjoys creating characters and stories or even just strategy games in general, although admittedly the depth of the combat is a bit on the lighter side.

3. Devil May Cry 3

DMC3 is the perfect action game. DMC5 comes close but 3 for me clutches it because it's a lot more focused. Over the years the series has added increasing complexity which raised the skill ceiling far above what most people could possibly ever reach. There is exactly one person on Youtube I'm aware of who can be said to have completely mastered these games and watching them play is a sight to behold. Look up donguri if you'd like to see what that looks like.

As for me, I prefer the simplicity of the third game. It doesn't give you so many options that not using them just feels like playing the game wrong, it wants you to get good on your own terms and greatly rewards your investment in mastering its combat. There's nothing quite like playing a game and just feeling how well you're doing, how easily you can breeze through previously hard challenges.

Few games have motivated me to try and completely master them, but DMC3 manages it and does so in a way that's entertaining and fun throughout.

2. Titanfall 2

Titanfall 2 is the DMC3 of multiplayer shooters. A lot of people dismissed Titanfall back when it first came out and those people are fools. These games are sick.

I know the selling point is piloting big robots but I can't stress enough that for me, that's secondary. It's all about the Pilot gameplay outside of the robot. The movement tech in this game is insane and the difference between how a seasoned player moves around is night and day compared to a new or inexperienced player.

I've seen a lot of people say that the purest skill based multiplayer shooter is Quake. Maybe that's true, but Quake is also a very static experience. Titanfall 2 proves that you can have highly skilled competition without skipping out on customization and self expression.

The satisfaction of mastering a game goes double when you're up against people who have the potential to be just as skilled as you are. It's the whole reason multiplayer games endure despite being sometimes more repetitive than their singleplayer counterparts. Competition is fun and motivates people to get even better and practice their game harder. It's a great feedback loop of deep enjoyment.

1. The Sims 4

So why would I put what is considered by many the worst Sims game at the top of this list? It's going against some pretty heavyweight games here. Well, hear me out.

I believe this is the pinnacle of life-sim "cozy" games. I never got into Animal Crossing because to me, the characters feel lifeless. The complaining about New Horizons' NPCs always rung a little hollow to me because in my opinion they feel exactly as boring as all the villagers in any other game.

Sims has always been more interesting to me in no small part due to customization of your characters, but also because they interact in ways that are fundamentally more interesting. They can fight, become friends with each other, engage in romances and these relationship stages can seamlessly progress from one to another.

It's like having your own little TV show that you can watch daily. And on top of that, Sims 4 in specific is the most stable version of the game by far.

Going back to Sims 2, it has eccentricities I don't really like. Aging is so fast, and time works in a bizarre way that takes me out of the experience, with only the playable household being able to age. Sims 3 doesn't run well no matter what I do to it, and it's not very friendly to rotational play, which is something I enjoy doing.

Sims 4 is arguably shallower than its counterparts but the fact that it's so frictionless is enough to put it head and shoulders above the rest. The graphics looking very nice doesn't hurt either. I've played it for over 1000 hours and I probably will continue to do so.

It's a very relaxing game that makes me feel at ease, as a very anxious person. I love it and I can't thanks Maxis enough for what they have created.

[ala-baguette]

hello!! just sending an ask to say I've read Knowing Where to Look in one sitting because it was so addictive! Thank you for writing it!! Also, if you still remember, in a previous ask you mentioned physical books you've added to your shelf. I'd love to know some of those favourites!! Hope you are doing well :)

Wait... like... someone wants to hear me rattle on about books???

I had a very fun reading adventure in 2022. Those familiar with my writing might notice that everything I write is 3rd person past tense. This is the only POV/tense that comes naturally to me and the only one I have traditionally enjoyed reading or writing. I recently found myself with an idea for a novel that I do think, however, would benefit from exploring a different perspective or tense. To do so, would require me to broaden my horizons, get past my own prejudices and find a way to get more comfortable with an entirely different style of writing. So in 2022, I resolved to read only novels in either first person POV, present tense or (shudder) both. And low and behold, I found I loved every second of the adventure!

My 2022 Reading List Recap:

The Starless Sea, by Erin Morgenstern: I see this story got some very mixed reviews which doesn't surprise me in the least. I would not recommend this book to everyone. But I will happily say that I loved it. This is not a book for people who just want a linear forward-moving plot that gets to the point. This is a book for people who are interested in the process of story-telling, who are interested in seeing how characters develop, who are interested in puzzling how the various story lines might be interconnected and are okay with the idea that they will not immediately "get" it. I loved the stories within stories, and I enjoyed slowly making connections between these stories and working out where they all fit together. The protagonist felt real, and the romance was subtle and understated, mimicking real life which is so my style. His sexuality did not define his character and lacked the usual cliches of gay characters. I loved the magical realism and beautiful imagery. Repeatedly while reading, I found myself saying, "I love words." I love that humans can create such amazing images in my mind using words and how even the way the words themselves sound so lovely. If you do not "love words" like I do, you will probably not love this book. At times, the flowery prose borders on pretentious, but I was totally there for it. This story was told in third person present tense. Normally, I find myself very distracted by present tense and it pulls me out of the story. In this case, however, it felt very immersive and added to the dream-like quality of the writing. I don't think the story would have hit the same way in past tense, so i can absolutely accept this choice.

Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir: I always look forward to a new book from Andy Weir. First off, the dude got his start writing fan fiction. Listening to him talk about fan fiction in an interview years ago was one of the things that inspired me to be more open about my fic writing to the people in my life. It's inspiring to know see that someone really did become a successful author from what they learned while writing fic. The other reason I love Andy Weir is that he is one of the few authors my partner and I can read together. My partner (an engineer) tends to favor really dry nonfiction so he can "learn" while reading, and it is just so not my cup of tea. I am a fiction lover, all the way. I get enough real world in the real world, thanks. I read to be transported somewhere else and to get to turn my brain away from real world problems. What's great about Weir is that he's a total nerd. He clearly does an insane amount of research into the technology he includes in his stories. So my husband will read his books to puzzle over the feasibility of his spaceship constructions while I get to enjoy a fun story about a man stranded in space as he struggles to save the world. Win-win. Project Hail Mary features a man who is suffering from amnesia (don't worry, its not soap-opera-cheesy, it actually makes some logical sense.) The narrative flashes between his present struggles and flashbacks as he slowly works out how he got where he is. It's almost like reading a novel and its sequel all mixed up into one. For the two different timelines, one is written in present tense, the other in past. Weir uses the tense to clue you in on which timeline you are currently reading and it is very cleverly done. The tense work in this book was really eye-opening for me-- it really helped me to see how tense can be a devise in good story telling.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman: I'm still reeling from this book a bit. The narrator is a seven year old child, which, coupled with a fantastical storyline featuring monsters and magic, in some ways makes the story feel like a children's book. But it is most definitely written for adults. What I loved about this story is it is a wonderful representation of the unreliable narrator. As I read, I was constantly questioning whether the events were 'really happening' or if this was just how a seven-year-old boy would rationalize his trauma. Is his nanny really a monster or is this just easier for him to process than the idea that his father is having an affair? I am so impressed with the way Gaiman remembers how a child thinks and acts. This one is written in first person past. I'm trying to remember other Gaiman novels I've read, and if memory serves, I feel like he usually favors third person. I do feel like the choice to write this one in first person was very intentional. Partly, I think this was a very personal choice as I do believe large bits of this story were inspired by his own childhood. But I also think it lends itself well to encourage the reader to think about their own past and remember what it felt like to be a child. The tense really did help you to feel like you were quietly sitting in a place filed with memories thinking back to your youth. While reading these last two, I spent a lot of time considering why I enjoyed the first person POV in these stories and tended to dislike it in my own writing. I think a big part of my dislike of first person is that it is so pervasive in teen novels. Absolutely nothing against teen novels, because I love them and I don't think I will ever outgrow them. But because of this, when I see first person, I tend equate this to "childish". So, fueled by a thirst for understanding (and nostalgia) I went on another fun mission to reread some of the first person books I loved as a teen to see what the difference was. I think I've come to the conclusion that the POV in these cases is less of a thoughtful choice and more of a way to conform to the norms of the genre and signify that the story is meant for young readers. I suppose teens want to feel understood and relatable. I went to my bookshelf and just started plucking books off that I recalled being in first person. The conclusion I came to while rereading them as an adult was that I could take or leave the tense. Which I suppose is the difference for me... I personally prefer things in third person past unless I see the reason for something else. I won't go into as much detail on these, but here are the first person teen/ YA novels I read this year in case you're craving a stroll down memory lane. These books clearly all stood the test of time for me, given that some fifteen to twenty years later, they're all still on my bookshelf.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

The Daughter of the Forest, by Juliet Marellier

The Beekeeper's Apprentice, by Laurie R King

Ella Enchanted, by Gail Carson Levine

The Tiger's Curse, by Coleen Houck

Across the Nightingale Floor, by Lian Hearn

All in all, I had a very successful experiment and I find myself much more open-minded about first person POV and slightly more open-minded about present tense. But I will say, that once 2022 was over, I was very quick to kick this to the curb and go back to my happy place with third-person past. Oh... and... confession... I did cheat a little. Spurred by a combination of the nostalgia of rereading things from my youth and from watching the HBO adaptation of His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman, I did reread this series in 2022. All I can say, is man, it really holds up. Still among my favorite fantasy series.

[iii-days-grace]

Can’t believe that I ever wanted to pursue a dark academia aesthetic, that was just me being a closeted goth I think

I mean really it went

Enjoy music

Enjoy fashion

People are really creepy about it in a manic pixie goth girl kind of way

Stop looking anything like that. Chuck most of my old clothes anyway for various reasons. Dress mostly in scruffy work clothes tbh.

Dip toes into dark academia aes bc am nerd and like spooky

It’s full of pretentious asshats bc you know. It’s just an aesthetic with nothing much under the hood.

Keep dressing like a garbage rat. Or like super fem when not bc letsbehonest I’m still a little bit hesitant about actually presenting more masc.

Nu metal? Garbage rats rad as hell actually?

Ok now I have the confidence to dress like whatever the fuck I want

Still dress fem sometimes bc why not

What is fashion anyway

Enjoy music

I’m not chained to any one aes and I still dress for practicality first (my wardrobe is very minimal at the best of times because I hate clutter and dragging things around with me when I move). But now that I’m settled in one place and have the time and resources to dress for enjoyment as well.

Step 8 is also a little bit abt empowering myself as a transmasc person bc people tell us we look like shitty gremlins anyway - I know that is not universally empowering for various reasons but it was for me.

[maddilynmuse]

Nanowrimo Experience

This year I tried Nanowrimo…

As a total rebel lmao. I thought about trying to get through Book 2 and brought it up to my writing group to be met with a unanimous and resounding “FINISH BOOK 1!”

Well, I could try to argue with that, but naaaah…

So I aimed to edit more or less an hour or two a day instead, though ngl some days I more or less just used writing word count because I had to make scenes from scratch due to playing the Cupid shuffle with mu plot structure until it resembled something good.

Most notably, well, I had a scene from near the end that I really liked. Problem was, at this point that scene was a relic of sorts, no longer serving much purpose. So I looked at the parts I liked about it: a cool sea monster fight/introduction, and getting to show off Gayle (my amnesiac water magic user) being a fucking nerd… and maybe a few more things I can’t tell y’all because spoilers >:3c

So I was like, “hey, showing Gayle having an interest in books and history is good character set up actually” and moved that scene earlier, and while I had to change the context, I still got my sea monster fight later, just in a different place. Ngl not as fond of the new one, but maybe that’s nostalgia. I’d clung to the prior scene through quite a few drafts.

Of course, that meant I had to change parts of the beginning/middle of the book to accommodate, but that was honestly easier than expected. The harder part was basically rewriting, like… uh. Not exactly the last parts of the book, but a majority of the lead up and plot twists.

Also…

Guess who found out em-dashes DON’T have space on each side lskhcjlajdlal

Yeah I was doing them:

Like — this

When they should’ve been:

Like—this

That was a loooooot of cleanup ^^’ in retrospect, I maybe could’ve left it. I’m sure some people might’ve said it was artificial padding, but honestly I just thought they worked that way for some reason??? This thing got longer than expected anyways lol. Still on the shorter end for the average fantasy novel, but oh goodness many words.

But yeah. I am a lot happier with it now, though still a bit unsure about the ending. My previous editor(s) didn’t seem to like it much, but, well…

I’mma risk sounding pretentious but hold with me lol.

I don’t think they understood it.

Like, I really don’t. Long story short, well, it might’ve been a genre mis-match. I didn’t realize at the time, but the pair I had editing it don’t actually work in fantasy most of the time, and seemed to have problems with, y’know… magic showing up.

At the time I thought it was a me thing, but my beta readers who do like fantasy are picking up on things they never seemed satisfied with.

I won’t say they were awful. They did help me find some other relics/artifacts of previous drafts that I left scattered nonsensically all over the place, and do think they caught a few things that I had gotten so used to that I forgot to explain them—like character walking on roofs because the roofs are flat and connected and serve as makeshift pathways when storms and floods occur.

But yeah. Takeaways?

Iiiiiii need to plot better and also need to stop changing the plot midway through writing.

Em dashes work: like—this

Make sure your editors work in your genre

Kill darlings, but also if you really like something, figure out why and take those aspects and reuse them

And hey… gotta find a system that works for you. Not every day was equal. Some days I was chomping at the bit to put in the New Scenes, some days I basically just edited grammar, and some days I didn’t feel up to actually working on the manuscript (particularly the days I was feeling most critical of it and myself) but instead used that time to take a step back and figure out what I needed to work on next.

If you’ve read this, well, thank you. ^w^ I’m just rambling, feeling like a gramma on the porch with youngsters coming by aljxlalhdlaljs.

But hey, sometimes you just wanna talk

[spideyspeaches]

We always have been ↬ fem!p.p

A/N: AHHH I love genderbent Peter skjkjhjka and I’ve only seen @justme--emily​ write for her so far so I wrote one of my own 😤

Summary: It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience. 

Warning: um cursing lol.

Pairing: female!Peter Parker x Harry Osborn

WC: 2k

When Mister Stark had asked her to attend one of those glorious charity galas, Penny had been elated, internally (and externally) jumping at the thought of wearing fancy gowns and walking past pretentious rich bureaucrats and business people.

She was practically lost in paradise when Miss Potts had accompanied her to shop for her dress, a beautiful blue and red full length gown, hugging her in her curves with a chinese collar neck and embroidered bust (very on brand of her). 

“Is your dress comfortable? Oh god I think I should have altered it myself, it’s not too tight right?” May fretted, fixing her hairdo and last minute make up she learnt from makeup hacks videos. Groaning, Penny nudged May by her shoulders, sitting her down on her twin bed, holding her aunt’s cheeks.

“May, the dress is comfortable! Miss Potts made sure that it was altered to my size okay? Now calm down, it’s just one night.” She smiled, folding her hands under her chest. Her dress was truly comfortable, and she looked undeniably good, she checked (she was a nerd, yes, but she wasn’t blind. Especially now that she had 20/20 long vision due to her spider powers.)

“You know how I feel about you going to fancy parties, baby.” May sighed, making her wince, “the last time you went to prom ended in a disaster. Both of them”

“I know May, but on the bright side, it gained me an actual paid internship. And Mister Stark and Miss Potts are going to be present the whole time!” She reassured, squeezing her aunt’s shoulders. In all honesty, she understood her anxiety, shuddering as she remembered her prom fighting Liz’s dad, and then breaking up with Harry, “besides, I have my spidery powers remember? I’m a big girl May, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can sweetheart, god look at you all grown up, Ben would be so proud of how much you’ve grown, my little woman.” May sniffed, getting up to caress her head. She shook her head at her aunt’s emotional state, smiling as she bowed her head at the nickname. It was something Ben used to call her- little woman.

“Ben would be proud of you too May.” Penny said, willing her eyes to not water at the sudden rush of sentiment she felt at the mention of her deceased uncle.

“Now, shoo before I change my mind and keep you all to myself!” May laughed, fixing the non existent crease near her shoulders.

“Okay okay! I’m going May, jeez it’s like you and Mister Stark are holding a shared custody of me.” Penny snickered, scrambling to wear her uncomfortable heels, the ones that matched her dress.

“Maybe I am, but I get to be the primary guardian!”

Laughing, she gave her aunt a kiss to her cheek, doing a preliminary check of her cell phone and emergency bracelet, blowing her a kiss before walking into the car that was standing outside their apartment.

The car ride was silent, her stomach bubbling with nervousness and excitement. She was practically vibrating in her seat, glad that Tony had sent another driver instead of Happy- he would have teased her incessantly for being so nervous. She had grown close to Happy, the man growing fond of her as well, but he could be an embarrassing dad at times.

The gala was everything she had imagined, brightly lit in an overpriced hall, adorning overpriced decorations with people in overpriced clothes. 

“Hey Mister Stark! Thank you so much for inviting me!” She grinned, skipping towards her fath- mentor. 

“Hey Pen, wow don’t you look beautiful. A little too beautiful, beware of those good for nothing boys you hear me?” Tony smiled, hugging her, a protective hand on her shoulder. 

“Oh don’t mind Tony, hun, he’s only joking.” Pepper said, giving her a kiss on her cheek and doing a once over, just like May had. 

“I’m serious Pep, if those boys even tried anything, you call me okay? I’ll take care of them.” 

“Mister Stark, you can’t just threaten teenagers.” Penny giggled, looking at Pepper with a smirk.

“Barely a teenager kiddo, why did you grow up so fast?” He smiled, a fond look in his eyes.

“I’m nineteen Mister Stark, I think I can take care of those boys themselves.” 

“Hell yeah you can, that’s my girl.” 

Easy for her to say, because not long after that, Mister Stark and Pepper had abandoned her to talk to some prominent dealer about some… deals concerning Stark Industries, she didn't ask.

By the end of an hour, she was already bouncing on her heels, bored out of her mind. Even the Avengers could entertain her only so much, going back to their important work. And 

Penny was an awkward girl, always finding herself in situations she was unwilling to participate in, so socialising was out of question.

She remembered the one time she had accidentally spilled coffee all over Mister Stark’s touch sensitive keyboard, stuttering the whole time. He hadn’t even been mad, reassuring her that he had done that enough times before, hence the liquid resistant keypads. 

And then there was that one time the school nurse had called Tony when she was experiencing period induced fever. That was embarrassing, if not a little heartwarming to know that he cared about her enough to confront Pepper about menstrual problems. She was his daughter in everything but blood, he reminded her that every day, though not verbally.

There was also this one time she had been caught kissing MJ, but none of those were going to top what she was facing right now.

Literally.

“Penny! Penny Parker?” Harry’s chirpy voice rang in her ears, his footsteps sounding increasingly closer as she tried to hide her face behind her (non alcoholic) drink, frantically walking towards the vague figure of Mister Stark as fast as she could with her overly expensive stilettos.

It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience. 

Finally standing near Mister Stark, she tried to stand next to him, ignoring the weird look he was giving her. Penny was petite, always has been small for her age, so she was glad Mister Stark could cover her with his side. Apparently he got her cue, as he shifted slightly to hide her from whomever’s view.

“What’s wrong Pen? Some pesky boy chasing you? Accidentally met your ex?” He joked, giving the old businessman in front of him a handshake and smirking at her with amusement. 

“Something like that.” She shrugged casually, snickering at Tony’s wide eyes. 

“Penny! Hey it’s me, Harry.” He said, nearly standing behind her. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, weaving his way through the crowd to stand right in front of her. He probably hadn’t noticed her clinging to Tony, which is why he came forward, a big goofy grin playing on his handsome face, sending her heart into a frenzy, his blue eyes shining under the gleaming lights. 

“Uh, h-hey Harry.” She grimaced, elongating his name with a chuckle. Shuffling forward, she ignored Tony’s raised eyebrows, opening her mouth to speak, but all she could look at was Harry Fucking Osborn standing in front of her, “Um, small world?” 

Her words sounded distant to her, heart heart a lump in her throat. She felt underprepared for these situations. Sure, they had broken off on a semi- good note, but it didn’t make whatever this was any less awkward. 

“Small world indeed.” He said, much softer than before, a solemn expression taking over his face, “It’s not every day you get to meet Penelope Parker in a Stark Gala. Heard of your internship by the way, I knew you were smart enough to get it.” 

“Oh, thanks about that. I guess you’re an unwilling guest here? Haven’t seen Mr. Osborn around.” She smiled shyly, shuffling on her feet.

“Yeah, kind of, I mean you know how he is.” He shrugged.

“How long have you two known each other?” Tony interrupts the two, watching in amusement as both his pseudo daughter and Norman’s son blush under his gaze, as if just noticing his presence.

“Uhm, Hi Mister Stark! B-big fan, hi oh my god Penny I’m standing in front of Tony Stark.” Harry stuttered, shaking Tony’s hand for a little too long.

Staring at him with confusion, he shook Harry's hand back, silently asking Penny the lingering question.

“He’s a bit of a fanboy.” She answered. 

Harry was still looking at Stark with his wonderstruck expression. 

“Well it’s always good to meet my fans, but you didn't answer my question, kid. How do you two know each other?” Tony said, smiling as politely as he could while his hand was still stuck in Harry’s grip. 

Realising that, he instantly let go, standing awkwardly as him and Penny said at the same time-

“I’m her ex boyfriend-”

“He’s my best friend.” 

His eyes widen, realising what he had just said.

“You guys dated? And when were you going to tell me about that Pen?” Tony asked, baffled at the thought of Penny dating a guy, and Osborn’s son of all people. 

“Well, you see, I was going to tell you soon, but then we broke up. You know? We haven’t talked since.” Penny said, the last sentence directed towards Harry. She was looking at him now, gritting her teeth.

“Well did you expect me to call you after you dumped me? During prom nonetheless? I was ashamed, Pen, I couldn’t do it.” Harry said, looking apologetic. It made her heart clench, inherent guilt building up in her tummy. It was her fault, technically. 

“Yeah but, Harry you were my best friend before my boyfriend, and I missed you okay? You could’ve at least called.” She defended. Tony was good at reading the room, so sensing a banter building, he quietly left the area, not wanting to witness the misunderstanding.

“I really missed you too Penny, I- I didn’t think I was good enough for you, gosh I really fucking love you.” He said, immediately stiffening. 

Even back when they were dating, they had never said the L word to each other, not even when they were best friends, and now? Well he had just made the air more thicker than before. 

“You- you what?” She asked, voice small as her heart jumped. She moved closer to him, holding her hands out, reaching to touch his shoulders. Her hands set on his silky tuxedo, she stroked her hands in a slow motion, dropping them immediately when she realised she was touching him.

“I really fucking love you Penny, even if you don’t want to get together, can we still be friends? Go back to our movie nights and lego sessions?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if to keep himself from crying. 

No words left her mouth, her breath hitched when he moved forward, chest stuttering. With a sudden confidence she didn’t know she had, she leapt forward, capturing his lips in hers. Their lips moved with a sync, his familiar ocean scented deo invading her nostrils, his soft skin against her. The world around her melded in a technicolour blob, the only thing she could focus was his heartbeat echoing in her ears.

“I really fucking love you too by the way.” She said, pulling away from the kiss. She vaguely spotted Miss Potts in her periphery, shaking her head with a smile as she held back Mister Stark.

“So, are we friends then?” 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“We are more than friends, you dumbass. We always have been.” 

I’m a thirsty bitch, pwease give me feedback? 🥺🥺

[letsperaltiago]

ok time to break my silence caused by the fact that i spent all day making this lol too many feels 

so.. palm springs thoughts !! and there are manyyyy so buckle up and feeel free to hit me up with either matching or contradicting thoughts or whateveer!! i would LOVE to nerd out about this movie with someone:’)

here comes thoughts and pictures!! 

we basically start off with a mr. samberg sex-scene okAYYYYY the mood is set. we love the view

nyles aka. mr. samberg is the most gorgeous man alive and it was a true pleasure to admire him for 90 minutes straight 

CURLS!!????! THEY ARE UNREAL. i shall dedicate an entire post to them

Cristin Milioti is perfect for her role. her acting? *chef’s kiss* I love that she’s not the stereotypical female rom-com lead.

Her chemistry with Andy? Gosh.. Can’t believe Nyles x Sarah is my new main movie-ship!! They play off of each other SO. WELL. Their characters are equally stone cold and bitter, but then again not really, and they both portray it so well!!

“You don’t ned a leg up.” *moans* “Hold my leg up!” i SCREAMED

“Don’t you kiss me.” “Don’t you tell me what to do.” hoW DARE THEY!

Ok ur basically on love already stop it

The fact that they were just gonna fuck on a blanket on top OF ROCKS?!

but then again in this movie’s already insane universe it’s prob pretty normal:)

The overall dark, existential humor?? This is what I live and breathe for on a daily basis. Basiaclly both main characters are a BIG MOOD

Nyles not giving a shit vs. Sarah severely freaking out in the beginning is an iconic dynamic

“I am the antichrist” and then the rock falling? For a hot sec I literally thought the movie was gonna take a turn with Nyles being some magical/scientific creature that’d created the timeloop or something idkkk ahhha

Nyles in the suit... ridiculous(ly hot)

The torture methods Roy uses on Nyles and the fact that he’s not mentally scarred?? How?? 

On that note I love that Nyles and Sarah keep their memories even if the day starts over. Would’ve been a completely different concept if they had to “meet each other for the first time” every day and it wouldn’t’ve allowed their relationship arc to evolve as it did 

Darla is the fucking shit 

Nyles in the baseball cap, amirite?

THE BARTENDER TALKING ABOUT HITTING A GUY WITH THE CAR SHE’S CURRENTLY GIVING NYLES A HANDJOB IN IS COMEDIC GOLD 

“You fucked Jerry Schlieffen?” “Well he fucked me.” Yes SIR. Andy Samberg’s characters are all bottoms and we’re here for it

Sarah’s tongue click and “nice try” when Nyles asks her about her sex life?? 

IDK WHY BUT SO GOD

Randy is hella annoying. That’s it. That’s the tweet.

THIS ENTIRE SCENE:

the fact that they both start waking up smiling because now at least they have each other 🥺😭🤯

uhm i love a good ship that’s like... best friends to lovers and the montage of them basically becoming besties killed me 

this outfit Y E S: 

sarah falling off the car and nyles laughing it off is relationship goals

the crashing plane I LOL’ED

okay so... big moment... the DANCING AND MATCHING OUTFITS? THEY ARE MY DREAM TEAM. Also how excited they are running away from the bar 🥺

IM POSITIVE THIS IS THE MOMENT NYLES KNOWS! LIKE HE DOESN’T ADMIT IT TO HIMSELF COMPLETELY BUT HE KNOWS 

the bomb in the cake and french pirate-skit? so fucking random but i lovee it because it’s so them

*DRUM ROLL* PERHAPS MY FAVORITE MOMENT IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE: 

STORYLINE WISE AND VISUALLY A++++

the deep talks by the fire were SO well written. they were actually deep and genuine, allowing the characters to grow and opening up to us as viewers but also remained fun and witty

sarah trying to get nyles to admit he cares for her and him joking it off??? the flirtinggg

really wish we’d gotten to know more about what nyles meant with “it drifts away: just like they all do.” because it really seemed to trigger something within him. Like WHO “They”???

the dinosaurs lmao no comment but at least they got a cute cuddly moment

from the very first millisecond inside the tent you can CLEARLY tell Sarah is just dying to do something about them!!!

 the disbelief on nyles’ face when sarah says “lets just get it over with” because she’d clearly stated he didn’t want to and even though he obviously did he’s respected it and not done anything further about it oh babey

we love some good making out:’))) 

NYLES HALTING TO TAKE IN THE MOMENT EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM INTO THE VOID 

i will die for a post-sexy timez cuddle and how sarah is trying to staying awake to be besides him is just *explosion* 

this has to be *the moment* she realises 

and they’re both sooooo fucking happy when they wake up after damn love me like that pls

THE GROOM BOOO FUCK OFF CAN’T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO REMEMBER HIS NAME CHEATING SCUM 

THIS FACE:

Baby is trying so hard and is so cute and nervous about it. SARAH LISTEN TO HIM HE LOVES YOU.

HE FELT GOOD WAKING UP BECAUSE OF YOUUUU, GIRL. DO NOT CALL IT “FUN”, SARAH 

“Going to bed maybe just got a little better” 😭😭😭😭

The entire cop scene is just pure insanity, very Lonely Island and I’m here for it even though I just want Sarah to rEALLY LISTEN TO WHAT NYLES IS TRYING TO SAY 

“Pain is real” oh babey that means SO MANY THINGS 🥺💔

“I followed you into that cave because I liked you!” like jake would say: don’t love how we got here but we’re going where i want

“pretentious sad boy” me

not shocked that they’ve hooked up before because c h e m i s t r y but don’t like how it got out :)))

why is nyles’ one sleeve shirt rolled up? im triggered

drinking pure vodka? oh babey its gonna be okay 

WE LOVE A SMART BOI WHO RECOGNIZES HIS GIRL’S PERFUME 

Sarah’s parents singing:)) i would cry too, nyles

"I love her.” “I see... That’s interesting” lmao savage

I actually really love Roy’s character. It turns out to be very humble actually and he has some insightful and lowkey poetic that lines i love. Besides that he’s hilarious. 

SO the whole time i was wondering how they’d get out of the whole “same day forever”-thing, if they were to. and I LOVE LOVE LOVE that they had such a logical way out of it: science. Not anything cheesy like “a true love’s kiss” or “you learned your lesson”. Pure logic and Sarah’s hard work to get there. Huge fan of this. 

I will never get over how good Nyles looks waking up and Sarah is xtra pretty in that scene:’) 

Nyles just wants to stay in a loop forever because it means for sure that he gets to stay with Sarah forever and I’m lowkey into it but also like lowkey LISTEN TO HER AND GO WITH HER PLAN, NYLES

“I wanna stay with you” *sniffles*

“I love you. How about that?” PRETTY FUCKING GOOD 

I love Nyles’ character development. He started off so nonchalant and cold, closed off and by this point he’s the softest, smiliest in love fool I’ve ever seen and Andy does it so good. SAMBERG HEART EYES!!

“Nothing is real in here” YES SARAH UR LOVE IS

I’m taking Sarah’s asking Nyles to believe in her and leave with her as her first “I love you” because it’s very clear that she wants to leave with him rather than without. 

just- this entire scene i ugh <3 <3 <3 <3

BREAKING. UP. WITH. MISTY ! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

glass of wine filled to the brim? sarah’s my type of gal

the speech was really beautiful and sweet without being too cheesy and kudos to cristin for really delivering it like a pro! especially her “abe, don’t fuck this up” like yes girl kill him, chop him to pieces with your eyes!!! also camila is such really pretty bride

nyles looks like a cockatoo here :

nyles taking the shot and smashing the glass into the ground got me 🤭😵😏🥵

“I’m your son” I SCREAM

GIVE THE MAN A WHITE HORSE DAMNIT

Gotta admit Sarah looks like a bomb (lol nu pun intended) ass super hero in her bridesmaid dress and C4-gettup 

The sentence ending up being total grammatical gibberish but Nyles trying so. damn. hard is the sweetest thing ever and should and will go down in rom-com history. It’s super romantic but also well-balanced by humor and I just.. so good. This is the kind of characters and relationships I love and wanna write myself 

“you’re my favorite person that i’ve ever met” 🥺🥺🥺

“i’d rather die with you than live in this world without you” WHY AM I SO SINGLE SOMEONE LOVEE ME LIKE THIS 

okay so idk but “what if we get sick of each other?” “we’re already sick of each other. it’s the best.” is so so so soft, the way nyles says it like it doesn’t matter and is honestly another key moment for me: they’ve experienced basically everything imaginable during their time in the box/loop. they’ve liked, disliked, loved, hated each other and still: he loves her. the fact that nyles knows no matter what happens it won’t stop that because it’s them?? ouch my heart. 

this chaotic mess of a pairing?MESSY BOMB BRIDESMAID AND CURLY-HAIR HAWAII SHIRT-BOI!! MY OTp

Them dissing Nyles’ mom on their way into potential death? that’s love, baby 

the fUCKING KISSSSSSS MANNNNNNNNNN!!!! SO ICONIC AND THE EXPLOSION IN THE BACKGROUND AND JUST WE DESERVE THIS THEY DESERVE THIS EVERYONE DESERVES THISSSS!!! 

NEVER OVEER THIS EVER FOREVER NEVER

Ok so I was SURE that when it faded to black that it was done and I grew super ficking frustrated because it would leave us with this “the ending is up to whatever you chose”-kinda thing kinda a la Celeste and Jesse where it just feels unresolved and I WASN’T OKAY WITH THAT. So I’m so happy we got to know that it worked and the bebes will live happuilly ever after with Nyles’ shaggy dog:’) 

Their hands on each other’s knee >>>>>

all in all 100000/10 

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Dialogue Prompts 

send a number and a pairing/dynamic and I’ll write a short drabble

“You’ve got this.” “You have a shocking amount of blind faith in me considering how many of my panic based decisions you know about.” “What do you mean ‘I know about?’”

“I need your help.” “Is this a ‘I have a homework assignment I haven’t started and it’s due in 3 minutes’ kind of situation or a ‘I need to bury a body’ situation?” “Worse.” “How do you get worse than murder-”

“I think I managed to convince one of my professors that I’m a certifiable genius and I don’t know how to tell him that I am an absolute moron.” “...how?”

“How many times do you think he’s used that exact same line to pick up other people?” “I don’t know dude, but how many shitty guys have flirted with you this week?”

“I’m cataloging that under conversations I’m not sure actually happened.”

“Hey where are you?” “In my dorm room, why?” “Oh I just met your doppelganger and it scared me.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” *nodding* “Lesbians.”

“I’m gonna beat the fuck out of this pretentious bastard.” “Good morning to you too then.”

“Hey, how do you write a letter to the people down the hall to say ‘I’m not trying to start a competition with Halloween decorations, but I still appreciate your effort and would like to match it?’” “What the fuck is happening in your building?”

(follow up to that last one) “Good news! I am now friends with the people I got in the door decorating not-contest with.” “Jesus Christ.”

“When was the last time you slept?” “No comment.”

“Please imagine calling John Mulaney ‘Mr. Mulaney’ in a formal setting.” “...go to bed, idiot.”

“Ma’am.... how do you interview a squirrel?”

“That’s a dog.” “...uh-huh.” “Cool.”

“So let me get this straight. You want to suck Captain America’s dick, but you can’t be bothered to remember his full name?”

“So good news: I found the football stadium.” “And the bad news?” “It took me a month to find it and it’s literally 2 blocks away.”

“I hate being the leader of the group.” “Do you… want someone else to do it?” “Absolutely not.”

“So you know Deadpool?” “I’ve literally been more terrified of a conversation in my life, but yes I do know Deadpool.”

“I’m not sure if that was a squirrel, a cat, or a raccoon, but I want to pet it.” “No-”

“That’s a dick.” “Don’t be rude-” “Dude I mean there is a literal penis as someone’s background right now.”

“Do you think squirrels are capable of murder?” “Probably why do you ask?” “One tried to break my kneecaps. I’m interested in the probability of murder.”

“So like, you know the guillotine?” “Yes? Where is this going?”

“Oh my god please don’t stab me!” “Why the fuck would I- oh, my knitting needles. Sorry.”

“I swear to God, if he wasn’t The Worst™ I would climb him like a tree.”

“Is reading your horoscope a spiritual thing? Because I have to tell my therapist something and this seems like that something.” “Just say you believe in stars now and hope it works.”

“Hey, what are your pronouns?” “What’s a pronoun?” “Um, what’s your gender?” “Oh! I’m straight.”

“Wait what’s this presentation on?” “We’re presenting in 5 minutes how do you not know?”

“How do I tell my parents I’m dropping out of college?”

“It’s 8am on a Tuesday and I would rather be drinking tequila but that’s not legal so I have espresso and that’ll have to work.”

“Sorry I got stressed so I went to a different building to color.”

“I have cried 10 times in the past 48 hours.” “Are you okay?” “Yeah I have stickers now.”

“Someone just said they’re proud of me and I genuinely think my heart stopped.” “Seriously, are you doing okay?”

“Hey you don’t care when I need to rant about the class I teach. You will not believe-”

“I have a reputation-” “You outed yourself as a nerd?” “I outed myself as a nerd.”

“If you get me started I’m not gonna shut up for like at least an hour are you sure you want to go there?” “Honestly? Yes, I’ve been waiting to hear you go off about this since I found out and I know you have thoughts.”

*Loud swearing* “Are you okay?” “Yeah hold on.”

“‘Bust your ass open’ is the funniest thing anybody has ever said to me, and I don’t think that’s what she meant to say.”

“If I have feelings I will simply pass away.” “You are the angel boy.” “...angel boy.”

“You need to have backups of everything. This includes but is not limited to: batteries, cameras, SD cards, coffee-”

“I’m not going to normally encourage this, but if you have to run your coffee pot at midnight, do it.”

(for context, see previous) “Why do you look exhausted? Are you guys okay?”

“I thought that kid died last week! Now he’s fine and kicking my ass in Kahoot!” “...stop laughing at me, I’m serious! He doesn’t even like this class, I swear to god.”

“I am so sick of talking. How do people do this all the time?” “Aren’t you getting a degree in that though?” “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, Professor. Did you just say that we used to have deer on campus?” “Yeah! They used to come up to the windows.” “...What?”

“I can’t believe I’m still ‘a pleasure to have in class’ in college. It hurts so much worse when it comes directly to your email instead of your parents.’”

[aoifeanamadan]

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 6488

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

The sky is blue, the sun is hot and Dream hates George.

Everyone knew Dream hated him, really hated him, all smug and sarcastic and closed off. Where Dream was friendly, loud and outgoing, George was quiet and pretentious. It was like he thought he was above everyone else.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Three: Rusty Swings

Dream was a winner, it was what he did. Ever since he was a kid, losing had always felt unnatural. It was wrong on a molecular level. The shame of it, the loss of control.

When he was younger, he used to challenge his older brother to wrestling matches. His brother thought it was fun, just some rough and tumbling. Dream on the other hand, Dream treated it like the Olympics. He would abandon any kind of formality if it meant he would win.

He would kick and scream, clawing and biting his brother. He ignored the feeling of skin under his nails, just focusing on winning. After the first few times, Dream’s brother stopped saying yes when Dream asked to wrestle. He counted that as a win.

He had the same spirit when it came to soccer. He had captained the school’s team to two state championship victories in two years. The entire school knew him, the entire state. They were the best team, in every soccer team of the entire state. They were winners.

It wasn’t all him, they were a great team, but Dream elevated them. When Dream got better, he brought everyone else along with him.

When college scouts came to watch their games, they were there to see Dream. But they couldn’t ignore the rest of the team. They worked as a unit, weaving and dodging as if they were all a part of one common entity.

Soccer was Dream’s life. He had been playing since he was a kid. It was easy. When he was playing soccer, he knew what he was doing. There were no big decisions to make, it was just get the ball in the net. It was as natural and breathing.

His talent was a huge added bonus, but even without it Dream thought he would still be playing.

Soccer was Dream’s life, but he now had other commitments. Well, one other commitment.

George.

More specifically, trying to figure out how to tell George he was going to need to reschedule the mandatory time they were meant to spend together. George was, in fact, the one who had managed to broker the weekend slots. He had saved the both of them from having to stay back after school three times a week. And, he had done it just so Dream would be able to keep going to his soccer training.

Considering all of this, it really was an annoying oversight that the soccer team had a training session scheduled for the exact time Dream and George had agreed to meet up. The fact that Dream had been the one to schedule it last month made it even more annoying.

So, Dream thought he justifiably worried about asking him to further change the arranged time. He had spent almost four days trying to figure out what to say, and how to say it without sounding like he was spitting in George’s face, when it struck him. The solution was so painfully obvious.

Dream was nothing if not consistent. He did the exact same thing he always did, the same thing he had always done. Lying on his bed, throwing his balled-up socks into a drawer across the room, he texted Sapnap.

Dream (10:41 am)

Ft?

Sapnap’s name was on his screen in seconds. Dream accepted the call.

“Sapnap, please help me.” Sapnap didn’t flinch. He just smiled warmly down the phone, a quiet giggle passing through the speaker.

“Okay Dreamie-Boy, calm it down. Whatever it is, it is not the end of the world. Chillax.” Sapnap had never stopped using chillax as if it was a regular verb, not since he started in 2011. Dream decided that right then was not the time to mention it - even if he wanted to.

“I can’t figure out how to reschedule with George.” Sapnap’s bark of laughter was not reassuring in the slightest.

“What?” Dream didn’t like the glee coming from Sapnap’s voice.

“I can’t figure out how to tell him I need to change our meeting time!” Dream hated the way his voice whined. “Dude.” Despite his best efforts to hang onto his panic, Dream felt the calm seeping in. The familiarity, it was an inevitable comfort. Sapnap continued. “You are a senior. ” “And?” Dream tried to throw one of his washed pairs of socks into the open drawer across his room. He missed. “I swear, sometimes you act ten years old.” His words were laced with annoyance but on his phone screen, Dream could see Sapnap smiling. He rolled his eyes. “Well, what do I do , Sapnap?” Instead of an answer, Dream was met with a change of scenery. His phone screen went to a close up of Sapnap’s face, to a blurry screen saying Paused. Sapnap had paused him to go to some other app on his phone.

“Chillax, and-” Dream’s frustration tipped over the edge.

“ Chillax is not a real word! Stop saying Chillax!” Dream groaned as another pair of socks missed his drawer. “Okay, well, hurtful. I know you don’t mean that. And I’ve texted George.” Dream froze.

“You what?” His words were full of warning. Saapnap either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“I just texted him, just there!”

“Sapnap! What the fuck? What did you even say? Oh my god, why would you do that?”  Dream was cut off by a telltale ding emitting from his phone. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move.

“I heard that!” Sapnap’s singsong taunt came from Dream’s screen.

George (10:48 am)

Cool

“Anything to say?” In FaceTime, Sapnap’s face was getting too close to the camera. Dream had to suppress his smile, he had to deal with George.

“Yeah, fuck you. And George says it’s cool.”

“Fuck you do, Dreamie-Weemie, Sapnap works his magic again!”  Dream let his smile pass through, barely. Begrudgingly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sapnap was laughing as he hung up the phone. Dream was left alone with George’s text. He figured it was polite to reply.

Dream (10:49 am)

Sorry for not texting you myself

George’s reply was whizzing through the air in seconds

George (10:49 am)

its fine

Despite his common sense, Dream found himself replying. Every time George texted a reply, no matter how dry, how unenthusiastic, he kept trying to keep the conversation going. Eventually, he all but forced George out of his virtual shell.

Even as he was getting into Sapnap’s truck over an hour later, his face was stuck in his phone, in the conversation he had coaxed George into.

George (12:09 pm)

iron man will always be the best superhero. the whole mcu was built on his back that's just common sense

Dream (12:09 pm)

You sound like a nerd

George (12:10 pm)

well dont be rude

Dream (12:10 pm)

ughhh you sound like bad

You’d probably love him actually

George (12:11 pm)

Dream?

Dream didn’t think before replying

Dream (12:11 pm)

yeah ?

George (12:11 pm)

you know me and bad are like good friends

Dream ignored his burning cheeks as he got out of Sapnap’s truck and approached the soccer team. He had not known that.

The team were ready to go, as usual. They were dedicated kids. Dream had them running laps once he put his bag, and phone, in the changing room.

They were midway through a practice match, half of the team versus the other half, when Dream noticed him. George was leaning on the edge of the fence surrounding the pitch. He was early.

For Dream, an audience didn’t change his performance. He was good, he was always good. Behind all the training and technique was pure talent. A lot of the time, other players’ would bring along their girlfriends or some of their friends to hang around the training. Dream couldn’t have given less of a shit.

But there during that practice match, Dream felt something new. He hadn’t felt it at the State Championship. He hadn’t felt it when the scouts were analysing him. He hadn’t even felt it in his first-ever game back when he was 6 years of age. It was a kind of pressure, light and inconsequential. It was George’s eyes on him.

Normally when he was playing, there was a kind of understanding. The scouts knew he was good, the girlfriends and parents, the friends and families, the teachers, the coaches, even the other teams. They all knew Dream was good. They all expected him to play well. George was different. George didn’t give a shit what Dream was doing. He barely glanced at him. Somehow, the boy was more interested in his phone than Dream’s quest towards a hat trick.

He didn’t mind it, not really. It was just new. It was as if someone had gotten inside his mind and moved all the furniture ten centimetres to the left. If anything, he appreciated it. It kept him on his toes, gave him something to prove. It was another chance to see if he could up his game. Anytime he felt George’s eyes on him, it made him run faster, kick further, push harder.

The time went quick, and before long it was all over. Dream’s team had pummeled Sapnap’s, except for one goal. Sapnap had seen Dream’s weakness, he had stolen the ball right from under Dream when he was glancing over to see if George was looking.

After the handshakes, the water mixed with good-natured teasing, the lightening speed showers, Dream was left alone. His hair was dripping onto the hoodie he had pulled on. He was the last one in the changing room, he always was.

He told everyone it was because he was the captain. If anyone ever needed to talk, there was a sure place they could catch him alone. All they had to do was run back, claim a forgotten boot or hat, and he’d be there.

That was a part of it undoubtedly. But, if you stripped the layers back, peeled Dream’s skin away to look down at his pulsing core, you’d have seen privacy above all else. He kept to himself, minded his business. Other than Sapnap and Bad, no one fully knew him. And even that was pushing it. Sapnap and Bad knew the version of him that he showed. They saw some bad bits, but they’d never see the Dream that he hid.

They wouldn’t know the Dream that scrolled through Instagram on a Sunday night. They’d never know the Dream who cried when his toast got burned on a particularly stressful morning.

They saw him, the real him, but only the entertaining parts. They saw the anger and the tears, the elation and the subsequent fall, but they never saw him be boring.

If someone’s boring, they can be left. It’s easy to leave someone you don’t care about, and it’s easy to not care about someone boring.

So Dream let them see him, the real him, but only when it was entertaining. No one saw him alone in his room, watching podcasts on YouTube and folding his washing. That was the kind of person it was easy to leave. He couldn’t be that.

He kept it all to himself, the parts that didn’t fit into the Dream personality. Anything that didn’t match ‘State Champion Captain’. Anything that didn’t scream ‘Golden Boy’ was for his eyes only. No one can ruin something they don’t know about.

Dream was able to change his clothes quickly. He brought his body wash from home and he didn’t wash his hair. But, apparently, he wasn’t fast enough. Before he had his shoes back on, George was barging in, Sapnap trailing behind him.

“Sorry, I did try and stop him.” The grin on Sapnap’s face told a different story. Dream just rolled his eyes, grabbing his gear bag and leaving. They didn’t follow him out the door, but the room echoed. He could hear talking, mainly Sapnap.

“Wherever you guys end up going today, can you keep an eye on Dream? The adrenaline from training hypes him up too much. He might say something stupid and get punched.”

It was nice, to hear such solid proof that Sapnap knew him in the best way Dream would let him, that he cared so loudly.

“Oh, I get to see Dream being punched?”

George promptly snapped Dream out of his appreciation. Before Dream could move away from the door, they were walking on top of him. George’s smile dropped when he saw Dream eavesdropping, but Sapnap’s got bigger. He swiped for Dream. Despite Dream’s aching legs and exhausted lungs, he managed to dodge. Before Sapnap could swipe again, he was jogging towards the truck.

While Sapnap chased him, screaming about his stalker tendencies, George looked away, following slowly behind them. He had the decency to blush, slightly. Maybe manners weren’t completely dead just yet. Sapnap said his goodbyes before Dream could beg for a lift. He said he had ‘ errands to run ’. Which errands fell on the shoulders of an 18-year-old boy, Dream didn’t know.

Suddenly, it was all real. It was just George and Dream, staring at each other on an empty soccer pitch. Any words Dream tried to force out died in his throat. These were uncharted waters, George and him alone and civil.

To be George’s enemy was easy, but this new thing. This budding acquaintanceship. It was more complicated. It was so much easier to just go back to how it was, bitter and stinging. It was like a wound that had scabbed over, and Dream could never resist picking at a scab.

“Why are you here, George?” His tone was harsher than he intended, a cold contrast to the playful banter he had with Sapnap. Dream tried to ignore the split second of hurt he could see on George’s face.

“Sapnap got the time wrong.” George’s face was closed off again quickly. Dream felt guilt knocking at the door of his morality. He turned the key in the lock, determined to keep it out.

“Oh.” Dream hoped George couldn’t read minds. Because if he could, he would be able to see the way Dream’s conscience was floundering. This vague hatred was a lot less comforting when alone with someone.

Before Dream could ponder on George’s telepathic capabilities for too long, he was walking away. George’s back had turned on him.

Before Dream could make his protests known, George had turned his head in Dream’s direction.

“Come on, it looks like rain.” Dream glanced up, the sky was clear. He didn’t mention it. Instead, he followed George as he walked to the bus stop.

George took him to a café. It was a small place, quaint and cosy. The outside was a murky turquoise with glass panes everywhere. A pretentious coffee house. Dream thought it was a bit on the nose, even for George.

A tip jar was knocked over while George was ordering their drinks. Dream could hear the harsh clatter from the isolated table he had snagged them in the furthest corner. George’s face was burning red when he sat down with his americano and Dream’s hot chocolate, no marshmallows extra cream.

While George retrieved his things from his shoulder bag, folders, paper, pens, Dream started to think about the assignment. They were more complicated than they seemed, the speeches and the boys. The speeches had to have a five-page accompanying essay to explain how cooperation was beneficial, and to support all the points made in the five-minute speech. That was a page per speaking minute, if Dream’s maths was correct.

He tried to think, to plan how to go about it all. It was harder than he had expected. Most of what they had done the first day had turned out to be useless, upon Dream’s inspection when he got home. Before he could reach his epiphany, George was tearing him away from his introspection.

“I swear, if you keep doing that, I’m going to sew your eyelids to your kneecaps.”

Dream looked blankly at him, frozen in his confusion. George didn’t lessen up.

“Tapping your pen against the glass. Stop it.”

Dream hadn’t even realised he was doing it, an old nervous habit. Or it would have been, if Dream was the kind of person to get nervous.

He and George sat there, staring at each other. George didn’t look as embarrassed as Dream wanted him to. Dream didn’t look as sorry as George wanted him to.

“Please.” George looked like he had to force the word out of his mouth. The same George as always. Dream rolled his eyes, but he put down the pen.

“So,” Dream started them off. He was past the stage of letting any awkwardness seep in. “The speeches.” It took George a second to catch up, his mind was still at the counter where he had picked up all the coins individually.

“The speeches.”

The place to start seemed obvious to Dream,

“Tell me about yourself.”

George looked up at him, curious eyes and slouched spine. One of his eyebrows, just one, shot up. Dream rushed to clarify.

“I mean, for the speech. So I can write the speech.” George’s face didn’t change with the explanation. It was still staring at him from across the shitty coffee table. His brow was furrowed and his smile was appearing out of nowhere, slowly. Dream hated it. It was all so jarringly new, having someone in front of him who he couldn’t read.

George had this new kind of power over him. He’d felt it during the soccer training but here it was so much clearer. In the air between them, Dream was sure it would suffocate them both, that mantra of ‘what is he thinking ’, over and over. A constant roar. He was certain George could feel it too, he was giving himself away.

This wasn’t how Dream was meant to act. Dream was confident and collected, funny and commanding. Dream was the captain of the state goddamn champion team. Dream wasn’t on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear what George was going to say.

Before Dream could think himself off a cliff, George was breaking in.

“I fold my socks.” It seemed like a simple thing, but it stopped Dream mid-thought. It disarmed him completely.

Later, he would realise it was the idea that George did things that Dream didn’t know about that had caught him so off-guard. It was the realisation that Dream didn’t understand him as well as he thought he did, that he hated someone he barely knew.

From there, it got easier. George knew all the words to Doja Cat’s “Say So”. Dream had accidentally become a bit of a Barb, a title he had to explain to George, after his sister went through a Nicki Minaj stage. George pirated films from the internet. Dream had been leeching off his aunt’s Netflix for years. Dream thought zodiacs were stupid, but he always found himself looking his up. George loved astrology. They both liked the stars.

George proved Dream’s hypothesis from their meeting, the one held the previous week in Sapnap’s house. George was actually funny, and Dream didn’t mind being around him.

Eventually, George noticed the barista’s eyes shooting them daggers. Apparently, ordering a hot chocolate and an americano is not enough to warrant an hour of sitting time. They had to leave. George shouldered his bag and nudged Dream. He was trying to suppress his smile. It was all so different to the George Dream had known.

“Come on, let’s go.” He was already standing. Dream nodded up at him.

“Better to leave than to get kicked out.” George’s smile lessened.

“Is it?”

They walked through the streets, excited in a boring place.

They ended up in front of one of the city’s deserted playgrounds. No one wanted their kids to play somewhere you could find needles. Once he saw the empty swing set, Dream was running. George was zipping quick behind him.

Once they were on a swing set together, the competition was inevitable. Dream was swinging higher than George, but George was trying his best to dispute that.

Dream was throwing his full body weight into the swing, feeling his heels skitting along the floor, his legs careening through the air. He figured this must be what it feels like to fall, to jump. This floating feeling in his stomach, the lurch of it all. It must be what it feels like to fly.

George’s gleeful shrieks covered up the warning creaks of the rusty swing set. Dream wasn’t used to this kind openness around him. It was all so new, the giddiness. He tried to shift his swing into George’s path, the way his sisters used to when he was a few years younger. He got a slight kick in the back in response, but it was enough to dethrone him. He was left sprawled on the floor, George cackling behind him.

The time went too fast. Before long, they had tried everything in the playground. Dream was too tall for half of them, but he tried anyway. When he had stood on the swings, trying to copy George, he had banged his head on the bar supporting them. He could walk while doing the monkey bars.

They were back on the swings before long, swaying more than swinging. George was trying to make his swing work without any movement from him. Dream’s swing was drifting left and right. He didn’t do anything to put it back on the straight and narrow.

Dream’s mind was eating at him. The logic of it all didn’t add up. This was George, George , and George hated him. So why was he here, an hour over their mandatory time, on a rusty set of swings with him. Having fun, together.

“George?” The chains of the swing crossed over each other, trapping Dream between them. He threw his body weight the opposite way to free himself. A slow final battle.

“Dream.” George was looking at him, the same way he had been back in the café. All open eyes and open heart. Dream hated it.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question, Dream couldn’t bare a question. He just said it, hoping George understood.

George hummed in response, eyes locked on his shoelaces.

“I don’t.”

And that was it, that was what Dream was afraid of. This was skydiving without the parachute, he was freewheeling. Here he was vulnerable, here he was showing a soft spot. It was weakness.

He had always hated George, since age ten. And the reason, the pit of it all, it had always been because George hated him first . And George had kept hating him, for the last eight years. Without that, there was nothing there. Their hatred was the only thing binding them. But, it was apparently one-sided.

“Oh.” It was strangled. It was all Dream could manage.

“I could never do it.” George was still looking at him, unreadable. Always so unreadable.

“What?” Dream couldn’t look back at him. His eyes were locked on the soft ground below him. His voice was too strained.

“Hate you.” George’s voice showed no strain at all.

Dream hated the muffled ‘ Hmm ’ that left his throat in response. He didn’t understand how George could just say it.

Dream swung wordlessly, back and forth. Before the words had even entered his brain they were bubbling out of his mouth.

“Same.” It wasn’t eloquent, but George’s face showed that he understood. He had never hated him, not truly. Not in the real way, the irreversible way.

They were quiet then, just swinging together. George’s voice broke through the blanket of sedative still.

“You’re definitely not how I thought you were.”

Dream jumped at the opportunity.

“How did you think I was?”

George thought Dream was cocky. All he did was talk shit, and he could never back it up. Dream was quick to point out the two-state champion trophies his team had one, but George shook his head.

“No, not like that. I mean like, outside of sport.”

He was loud in class, talking over the quiet kids. And he never smiled at strangers in the halls. He never had his homework done on time, and he never got in trouble for it. He was mean, rough around the edges. George didn’t say cruel, but Dream could hear him thinking it.

He had figured that was what George thought he was - tough, angry, mean. But his edges weren’t that worn yet, he hadn’t learned enough to be tough.

He wanted to climb inside George’s skull and rearrange the pieces, sort it all out. It was true, a lot of what George said, but he wasn’t cruel. He was never cruel. He didn’t mean to talk over people, he was excitable. He didn’t notice the people in the halls, or the favouritism from the teachers

Above all, George thought he was fake. The act he put on, the loudness and confidence. He didn’t believe it.

Dream had thought the same about George. Alongside elitist, pretentious and stuck up. Also, plainwell rude. George listened as he explained it all.

“I just thought you thought you were like-” Dream looked up at the sky, letting his legs tilt-up above his body. He could feel blood rushing to his ears. “I don’t know. Like you acted like you were better than everyone else.”

George snorted. Dream’s head snapped towards him, incredulous.

“Kettle calling the pot!” George was smiling despite it all. It made Dream laugh as well.

“Actually though, why don’t you ever get involved? Like, ever.” Dream sat back up properly on his swing.

George just shrugged.

“I'd feel safer facing off a fucking pack of wolves."  George’s voice was quiet, heading straight towards the ground. His feet kicked against the dirt. The swing wobbled.

Dream didn’t say anything, he didn’t think it was his place. He had never thought anything like that, it had never crossed his mind. He was Dream, being self-conscious wasn’t in his DNA. He wouldn’t have been able to bare it, the separateness of it all. He wouldn’t have been able to look in through the window at school life from the outside. But the way George was talking, muted and thoughtful, it made him want to understand.

Before he could think up a response, George was nudging his ankle.

“Come on, we should go. Before the sun sets.” George got up, started to collect his things.

Dream hadn’t noticed the shortening Autumn sunsets. He grabbed George’s sleeve.

“Watch,” he breathed, sacred. George’s limbs slowed, sinking him back to his swing.

Together, they watched the sun setting. The airy blues fading to dusty pinks, heavy orange. Before the sky was black, George was dragging Dream with him, mutters of Well, I’m not going to get mugged tonight Dream.

They ended up in the library, underused and underfunded.

Dream followed him inside, straight past the glaring librarian and up the stairs. He wasn’t used to it, following someone. Especially not George. But he knew the way and Dream didn’t, so he walked quietly behind him.

They turned a corner, and there they were. They were standing in a long corridor of computers, old and dusty. Dream wasn’t sure if it counted as a corridor, there was a wall at the other end, where the other opening should have been. There were long continuous desks on the two walls, and a computer every meter. They made the room thin enough to make them have to stand single file. He was practically standing on top of George, his toes brushing against George's heels.

Out of nowhere, George turned towards him. Dream flinched more than he would’ve wanted. They were left there, in the silence, George staring straight at him. Dream was a deer in headlights. He didn’t dare to move. They were barely inches apart.

“Dream, the door.” George’s voice was raspier in a whisper. His face was so close, Dream swore he could count the boy’s freckle. His lungs were burning, he had forgotten to keep breathing.  “Dream?” George’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Right. Yes. The door.” He spun around, reaching for a doorknob to shut them inside the one ended corridor, but he was met with an empty space. There was no door. He heard George sigh in frustration. Dream felt his ears burning, he hated it.

“There’s no door.” He whispered it into the silence in front of him. George laughed, muted and soft.

“Here, show.” George tried to worm his way past Dream to get to the door, but the corridor was too narrow. His elbows banged into Dream’s gangly limbs, his knee hit the desk. His whispered shit came at the same time as the bang. They both froze, ears straining for any kind of ‘shhhh’ coming from downstairs. Nothing came. Either they both had bad hearing, or they were in the clear.

George managed to shove his way past a blushing Dream, where he easily grabbed the sliding glass door.

“Bullshit,” Dream muttered as George came back down the corridor towards him. George’s small, airy laugh accompanied the sound of Windows 8 booting up.

“Come on, get a seat. We’re under time pressure. I didn't expect you to be here for this.” One of the old computers was loading up a chess website.

“Wait, explain what’s going on now so you don’t have to midway through-” Dream paused. He didn’t know if whatever George was doing actually had a midpoint. “- midway through whatever you're doing.” Dream ignored George’s rolling eyes.

“Speed chess. Chess plus speed. Not hard to figure out Dreamer.”

Dream didn’t think George had noticed his quiet nickname, it made his heart stutter.

“Speed chess?” Dream looked at the screen. Rightfully so, there was a chessboard on it.

“Speed chess.” George pressed start.

Dream watched the pieces move, whizzing across the screen. It was like soccer, the speed of it all. The pace. Dream loved the quickness. Before he could catch his bearings, there was a banner on the screen and a smiling George was talking.

“So, that’s speed chess. But now I have to play an actual game. Against an actual person. It’s a tournament, every week. Normally it’s after school, but it got moved this week. And, Dream, I swear to god if you ruin this for me-”  Dream cut him off before he could finish the thought. He knew George well enough now to know where it was going.

“I know, I know, you’ll kill me, no one will ever find my body, blah blah blah.” Dream ignored the way his heart lit up when George laughed.

George logged in and hit start.

Dream didn’t know anything about chess, he had never played and he never planned to. But he didn’t need to be a genius to tell that after a minute, George was losing. It was the furrow of his brow, the frown line set in his skin. It gave him away.

"You...do not look happy." Dream didn’t know how to help him, but judging by George’s gritted teeth, commentary was not the way to go.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Before another minute had passed, there was a banner on the screen pointing out George’s loss. The ‘ Better Luck Next Time, Player!’ didn’t feel very sincere to Dream.

One glance at George and it was clear he was disappointed.

“Sorry, George.” Dream lowered his eyes from the screen. It felt disrespectful to even look at the message of pity. George shrugged his shoulders, shook out his hands.

“It’s okay, I have another game. I just can’t get a perfect score now, so I probably won’t win this time” His voice was dejected. It made Dream want to help him.

“Well, I mean, don’t be sad. Just, like, turn it off. Change it to anger.” George looked at Dream, brow furrowed again.

“Dream? That’s not, that’s not normal.” Dream froze. This was it, he was giving himself away. He wanted to reach out and scoop the pieces of him that he'd let out back between his ribcage. He didn’t want George to know about the switches and levers inside him, the careful calculation of his personhood.

Instead, he laughed lightly.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t explain it very well-” Before he had to think up some other way to explain his inner workings, George was distracted. Another game was starting. Dream didn’t feel upset for the distraction.

The more Dream watched him play chess, the more he wanted to understand chess. The only thing he had to go off of was George’s closed face. As far as Dream could tell, he wasn’t doing well. The stitch of the skin next to his eye gave that away.

George’s mutterings of ‘ Shit ’, ‘ Fuck ’ and the classic ‘ Godamn it ’ also helped Dream reach his conclusion. George didn’t leave much up to the imagination.

Just as Dream was about to make his condolences known, all the stitches and the lines disappeared. George’s eyes widened then creased, and then out of nowhere the banner was back on the screen.

Except that time, it read ‘ Congratulations, Player!’

Dream couldn’t keep it in.

“Fucking clutch, bro!” George laughed at the congratulations.

“Careful Dreamer, you’re inner frat boy is showing.” He was grinning, giddy with the excitement of it all.

Dream tried to ignore the way the nickname froze his brain for a second, how every neuron stopped in their tracks to drink it in.

George got up from the chair. His smile was subtle but he couldn’t hide the energy, Dream could see him balling up and releasing his fists. He was just as excited as Dream at the win, just in a different way.

“Come on. I’m not playing anymore, plus I have to be home before my mother thinks I’ve been kidnapped.” Dream hadn’t thought about what his mother would say when he got home.

The guilt he felt, vague and untouchable, at being five hours late was pushed to the back of his mind the second it entered.

As Dream stood up, he felt his leg tangled between the chair and table. But it was too late. The second he pushed himself up he went careening back down to the floor. Before he knew what was happening, he was sprawled on his back, face on the dusty carpets. Instead of getting the sympathy he expected, George was standing above him, trying his best to contain his howls of laughter.

Dream cracked before he did. They stayed together, Dream lying flat on his back and George leaning against the desks, trying to muffle their shrieks.

Eventually, the librarian was standing above them.  Dream wanted to say she looked more disappointed than mad, but she didn’t. She just looked mad. It was always so much harder not to laugh when you weren’t allowed to.

Dream tried his best to keep it in as she escorted them out but he didn’t stand a chance. The second he saw George’s foot catch on the last stair, he was a goner. George said only bats could have heard the frequency Dream reached when George fell.

Dream was like a tea kettle, crouched down next to George. George himself was a mirror of Dream in the computer room, sprawled on the floor, letting out sounds between groaning and snorting.

The difference was this time they had a stern librarian right next to them, shaking her head.

Eventually, the boys managed to bring themselves to their feet and stagger towards the door. Everything was setting them off.

“Shhh, boys.” Her voice was stern. Dream howled into George’s ear. He was leaning on the other boy to keep from collapsing.

“We’re already fucking leaving.” It was breathed into George’s ear - just for him to hear. There were tears brimming. George snorted, calling out to the woman at the desk behind him.

“Sorry Dorothy,” Dream’s wheezing upon hearing her name didn’t do their sincerity any favours.

“We’re leaving, we’re leaving!” The second they got out onto the library steps they were heaving. George had to sit on the step, he was in stitches.

It took them a while to calm down, for the giddiness to dissipate. The cold was a big help, as was the dark.

After they calmed down, Dream looked at him. He was slouched against the library wall, hair messy and cheeks red. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back against the stone. The calm that filled him up when he was around George, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a regular thing. It compelled him.

“I’m sorry.”

George’s eyes opened to look at him, still smiling.

“Huh?” The way his head tilted to the side reminded Dream of the dog he had when he was younger.

“I’m sorry, for hating you.” George shook his head at Dream’s sudden apology.

“You don’t have to be.” But Dream still was, in every inch of his body. He wanted to take it all back, the years of bitterness. Even if it was replaced with nothing, it would take away his guilt.

George went home, and then Dream went home. The second he was in the door his mother was lecturing him. It all went in one ear and out the next The moment Dream’s head hit the pillow, it was a gearbox. There were new parts, cogs turning and wheels spinning. Dream couldn't stop thinking about it all. And, above all else, was the nickname. George had called him ‘Dreamer’. It was immortalized, cast in amber by his mind.

The next Monday, there was a routine soccer training after school. It was two days after Dream’s adventure in café’s and swing sets and speed chess but that day was still burned into the forefront of his mind. He was with Sapnap, doing a slow drill together, just passing the ball while they waited for the rest of the team to get changed. Dream decided it was time to let him deeper into his brain.

“Sapnap.” Sapnap passed the ball back to him gently.

“Dream.” He was smiling at him, always smiling.

“I have to tell you something.” Dream didn’t like the way his voice sounded. Sapnap and sombreness didn’t go together.

“Famous last words!” Sapnap had proven Dream right, he was still smiling at him.

“Well, I’m kind of- I’m making friends with someone. But I don’t know how you’ll react to who it is.” Sapnap was still smiling.

“Come on, dude. Just rip the plaster right off!” Sapnap jumped up and down on the spot, waiting for Dream to pass the ball. Dream passed it.

“It’s George.” Sapnap’s face didn’t change, but it froze.

“Put the plaster back on!” Sapnap kicked the ball, more towards Dream’s head than his feet.

[meirathinks]

congrats on 200 followers omg i can’t believe i’m talking to like a celebrity rn!! imagine being tumblr famous this blog better stay up when/if you ever become a famous published author so i can tweet about it for clout.

can i please get a matchup with a character from jjk🥺👉👈

i’m an aquarius and an ESFP.

i am loud and annoying, i’m the type of person who like actively participates in class not in like an intellectual i understand this kind of way more in like a ok i might as well say this right now if no one else will kind of way. i wear a lot of funky makeup think of a combination of maddy and jules from euphoria.

in the 8th grade someone told me that they just fake their confidence all the time and that it’s working out for them really well and i took that and ran with it. to the point where i don’t know if all my current confidence is real or not.

i am a pretentious piece of shit but like i know i’m a pretentious piece of shit. i’m like a lil movie nerd so i watch movies and i’m my mind i’m just thinking about how i could improve the movie. i’ll watch shit that’s won multiple oscars and think to myself “personally i think the editor did a bad job here that cut between shots happened to fast”

i also have never used a capital letter outside of school in many many years because i turned off auto capitalization in the 7th grade and i don’t care enough to change at this point.

my hobbies include painting, drawing, shit like that. my main medium is acrylic paint but i’m also a big fan of oil pastels.

this is probably not the personality description you envision being sent but i have no sense of self so this is what you get, feel free to take some creative liberties with the kid of person you think i am

once again congrats on 200 followers i’m v happy for you ☺️☺️☺️

DJSHHD HI!!! I'm missing you even if we saw each other like 5 days ago. Anyways I match you with panda!!!!

JDJDJ im jk

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥!💌

from...

Suguru Geto!

Hey

In all honesty, I wish I'd met you before. It sounds stupid but you can't tell me I'm wrong. I'm just saying that a lot of things don't last forever— even if you want them to.

We're similar in a lot of ways, our egos are about the same. I guess that's why we get along so well!

Anyways— I was just writing to see how you're doing. Maybe we can catch up some time?

I guess I really like talking to you.

You know when you're so enveloped in a conversation that it feels like everything is fading to black? But it's not like you can fully notice it because all of your attention is on the other person. You are the void that surrounds me, dark and infinite. It's comforting; I like hearing your voice.

I don't know, it feels like I never knew love until now.

Suguru.

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER TWO: FOR THE FIRST TIME

SUMMARY: Lynn meets the attractive English teacher, Mr. Tom Hiddleston. WORD COUNT: 3.1k NOTE: it’s 3:00 am but I don’t have a sleep schedule. Enjoy! WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

INSIDE IS HAVOC.

For some idiotic reason, most students somehow forget what classes they signed up for three months ago or lost their schedules (I still wonder how that happens) and thus, the front office is a mess of students asking for theirs, the lines bleeding out into the hall. Given this, getting around to head to the commons will be a mission in and of itself. I'm not hating on all of them. As a freshman I was in the same place, my shaky hands and nervously stuttering voice mirroring the kids that smell brand new. Hopefully, to avoid this debacle again, they'll write the classes down. I guarantee the already exhausted looking receptionists would agree.

I almost want to tell the small, thin girl who wrings her hands 'good luck' but I guarantee she'd faint by the time I open my mouth. Instead, Ellie and I keep walking past the crowd. Poor souls.

It takes a minute or so to reach the commons, the booming echoes of chatting teenagers on their first day back is a sound like no other. The voices create a paved path any newcomer could easily follow. It dawns on me now that this will be the last time I'll hear this sound. I solemnly smile.

"I'm telling you, Dunmer is the better race."

"Only an idiot would spew such ignorant bullshit! Everyone knows Khajiit are the superior race!"

"Says the guy who could pass as a furry."

My eyebrows raise once the familiar voices are heard. Of course, they sit alone and look as normal as ever. My heart dips into my stomach when one of the two glances up and bashfully raises a hand to wave. In his awkward state, his hand barely moves.

Ellie is the first to speak. "What are you guys fighting about now?"

The boy with the long black hair speaks first. "Dumbass over here thinks Dark Elves are the best characters in Skyrim." Gabriel Ahoka is one of the oldest friends I have and if there's anything I've learned from him, it's that he's right the majority of the time. Oh, and he has beautiful hair.

"Because I'm right!" I take a seat next to the self-proclaimed judge. His name is River Adams, and I think I've been in love with him since he told me I reminded him of Hermione Granger back in the fourth grade. I smile in his direction then tuck some hair behind my ear. A nervous twitch that doesn't get past Ellie's ever watchful eyes. I refuse to acknowledge her small smirk. Instead, we both join in on the two dorks' conversation.

Ellie rolls her big brown eyes at them. "I don't see what the fuss is about. You guys take your games too seriously."

Both River and Gabriel audibly gasp at her comment.

"Fine," Gabriel huffs looking in my direction. "What about you, Lynn-ykinz?"

I don't visibly react to his nickname. It's something I've been called for years now. Though I'd like to agree with River, it's something I can't do. "Dunmers—"

"Ha!"

"— are for pussies."

"Ha!" This laugh comes from the boy sitting across from me. Beside me, River makes a small "oh" and lowers his raised fists, his hooray coming to a short and final end. I chuckle at his reaction as I pass Gabriel a solid high five.

"What are your guys' schedules?" River asks a tiny bit of gloom and annoyance coating his words.

Fortunately, most of us are in similar classes and only have to be here for a little over half the day. Due to all of us sticking to the scheduling plan, we all were able to get almost all our required course and electives done. Instead of having seven classes in one day, we all have five. By the time lunch rolls around, we're free the rest of the afternoon, meaning much longer DND matches with the nerds and more gossip and jam times with the only other female in our group.

"So meet up at the library for lunch?" I confirm once more as the morning bell rings, signally to all the student and staff that the first day is about to begin. The three people around me reply in agreement, and we head out. For the first hour of the day as well as the last, we're in different places. I'm not sure where the others are going, but I begin my journey to the library, one of my all-time favorite places.

I walk through the doors and slide over the counter, careful not to be seen but not careful enough. I plop in my seat at the front desk as someone walks up behind me.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you to go through the gate. It's literally five feet away, Lynn!" I send a humored smile to the woman walking behind me, a rather large stack of books in her arms.

I stand up and begin taking ones off the top. "Five feet of unnecessary effort, in my opinion."

"And playing parkour in the library is?" Mrs. Gibbons says, deadpanning.

"To each their own."

She sighs but then laughs. "How was your summer, kid?"

"Pretty decent." I now have half the stack in my arms, and I follow behind her. "My mom and I went to Arizona for a few days and then Seattle for a week. We didn't have much time, but we drove through somewhere in Canada on the way back just because."

Mrs. Gibbons sets the books down on a cart where there are a couple of rows on the bottom already filled. Taking her lead, I lower my stack to the opposite side and begin placing them side by side. I presume these are outdated and to be sold or given away. "What's in Arizona and Seattle?"

A smile hits my face immediately. "There's a college in Flagstaff with a great writing program. I went on a day trip around the campus. And Seattle is just someplace we wanted to visit."

"That's so good to hear, hon! Are you considering?"

I lean back against the counter right behind me as my mentor continues to shelve books. "It's a little far."

Turning to face me, Mrs. Gibbons send me a confused stare. "I thought you wanted to get away from this god-forsaken state?"

She's right. All I've wanted since my father left was to get out of Missouri (or Misery, if anyone's asking). My mom and I left Maine a long time ago go escape unimaginable horrors, but I wasn't expecting those nightmares to follow me here. The move was negligent in getting us away from memories a selfish prick poisoned and to start new somewhere far away, where no one knows me as the girl with a deadbeat dad. In this small town, everyone knows everything. I'd like to escape, to be a complete stranger to everyone.

But Arizona is a couple of thousand miles away from the place I grew up in, my home. I feel incredibly guilty about considering a college so far away from the woman who has taken care of me on her own since I entered elementary school, who has taught me that voicing my opinion and being honest is valued more than timidity and who told me that no man should ever keep a thumb on me. The other influencers in my life are also staying around here. Ellie has been accepted in a very pretentious private school for the Fine Arts a couple of cities over while River and Gabe are thinking about community college before making the jump into university. While solitude and adventures are what I crave, everyone who keeps my sanity in control is here.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "I do, but... I'm just not sure what I really want. Like, I would kill to get out of here, but what if everywhere is worse?"

"Trust me; there's nowhere worse than southwest Missouri, hon."

Again, she has a point.

I hum in response. There a brief moment of silence as we shelve old, dusty books. "So how was your summer?"

Mrs. Gibbons smile kindly, fawning over memories I doubt. "Richie took two weeks off, and we went Fiji. It was so beautiful. The water is clear, the people are wonderful, and the food– oh my God, the food." I secretly have a small thing for Richard Gibbons, or, as his wife calls him, Richie. This "thing" isn't a crush or infatuation by any means, but when he walks into the library on random occasions, he has a natural gift to swoon anyone he encounters. I've unfortunately fallen victim to his charisma a few times. He's an image of the wealthy 1930's businessman with modern values and beliefs weaved in his fine suits. Mr. Gibbons might be my mother's age, or possibly older, but I have to say, Mrs. Gibbons is quite the lucky woman.

I chuckle at her. "I'm sometimes surprised you haven't filed for early retirement."

"Richie makes quite the cash, but how and I supposed to entertain myself when he's gone ten hours a day and then for weeks on end?" Mrs. Gibbons pauses and looks around her library, then back to me. The growing crows feet wrinkle into a smile. "And besides, I can't leave my favorite kids behind, now can I?"

"I guess you can't," I reply.

Ten minutes later, I'm back at my desk. Well, technically mine, Mrs. Gibbons, and the other kid who helps out during school hours. I've never met them, so I'm not sure who exactly they are. Anyway, the "desk" is a long bar that has a foot-high wall that stretches all the way down to the ends, creating a divider between my computer and a student or faculty member. The top of this divider is flat, forming a plane in which books or arms can be set on. Most of the time, books scatter the top, but since it's the first day, the library is not only spotlessly clean but deadly empty.

That is until someone catches my attention. Sitting at the far side of the desk, I'm able to see who is coming a mile before he steps through the open library doors. This time was no different.

With long, lean legs and a towering height walks in none other than Mr. Tom Hiddleston.

Easily being the hottest teacher of all time, I feel a blush beginning to creep up my cheeks just at the mere sight of him. Apart from his 6'2 figure, he sports tame yet still curly reddish-brown hair, divine enough for the gods, if he isn't one already. Mr. Hiddleston's cheekbones and jawline remind me of razors, which I would feel honored to be cut by. However, his eyes are a color I can't pick out. Because I've never been in close proximity, my guess, from my distance, is green, or maybe blue. The ambiguity makes him all the more interesting. I wonder if he has some long-distance vibe because as soon as I look up to see him, Mrs. Gibbons is right out front— and missing her cardigan. I raise my brows at her from the swivel chair, but her eyes are focused down and away from me. Elbowing her slightly, I nod once, doing a run over of her exposed arms and a little cleavage. Jokingly, she swats my arms and blushes scarlet. I begin to laugh, somehow holding most in when Mr. Hiddleston walks in.

"Hello, Ruby," he smiles softly. As if he wasn't attractive enough, the man has a damn British accent. It's almost as if he's trying to stick out among the hicks. "It's good to see you. How was your summer, darling?"

If her fingers weren't wrapped around the edge of the desk, I guarantee she would have fallen over. Honestly, I would have done the same. "Absolutely marvelous! Fiji is a beautiful place. I imagine you would like it there."

I make the snarky note that she left her husband out of the conversation. Thinking about it, I try to glance over at her left hand to check if anything is missing.

Zoning out the best I could, I file through the library's emails and begin writing down books teachers are requesting. Like usual, the freshmen English teachers ask for The Great Gatsby, and the sophomore teachers need 1984. Due to being taught-in-class books, I scoot back in my chair to make a beeline to the back room and take the note with me, the sticky top staying attached to my fingertips.

"Oh, Lynn?" I hear Mrs. Gibbons call out.

I just entered the back room, so I comically poked my head out. "You called?"

I seem to humor both parties, a smile etched on their face. "Could you get the copies of Of Mice and Men?" My vision glances over to the teacher behind the desk for a short moment. His tall frame leans on the counter, arms crossed on the platform, apparently indicating familiarity and comfort in the room. I catch his stare. I realize now his eyes are in fact blue.

Nodding, I duck back into the room, setting my sticky note to the side. During the time I have to gather the fifteen or so books, I allow my reddening cheeks to cool off by taking long breaths. "Don't be weird, Lynn," I whisper to myself, extending my arms out towards the collection of novels. "He's just a hot teacher. Calm yourself."

Finishing the stack, I wrap my arms around the tower, huffing as I do. I carefully whisk myself towards the open door, making a mental note to go back to my list.

Mrs. Gibbons and Mr. Hiddleston chat among themselves not too far from where I left. Now sitting in her swivel chair, typing away feverishly on her computer, and keeping a conversation going, the librarian doesn't notice my return, though the man across does. He nods in my direction. The simplest gesture is somehow insanely attractive. Mrs. Gibbons looks over her shoulder, sending me a smirk. "Oh, there you are! Thought I lost you."

I fake a small laugh. "I'm surprised I didn't; it's quite the mess back there," I tease, waddling over to the counter. "Where would you like 'em, boss?" I'm not sure who I would refer to, glancing once at Mr. Hiddleston, to Mrs. Gibbons, then back to the stack in my arms.

"Would you mind escorting me to my classroom? I tend to be clumsy at times." With a warm smile, Mr. Hiddleston glances down to Mrs. Gibbons, awaiting her approval.

At that moment, I'm not sure if I would love or hate to go. On the one hand, I get to spend time with Mr. Hiddleston, every horny teenager's dream. On the other, I'm alone with Mr. Hiddleston, someone I've never had a conversation with let alone a 'hello' until minutes ago. Knowing my luck, I will somehow embarrass myself in front of him. It wouldn't be the end of the world since I don't have any of his classes nor do I have classes near his, but God I would feel like a fool for the rest of my life.

But, hey, he's something pretty to look at.

"Yeah, I don't mind. Is that okay, Mrs. Gibbons? I promise I won't bail on you," I say.

The librarian nods her head, fixing her glasses. "Of course, go right ahead! There isn't much to do now anyway. Just make sure you're back before the bell rings."

"Don't worry, Ruby. I won't keep her long," Mr. Hiddleston reassures.

I wouldn't be opposed if you did, I think to myself. The comment makes me blush, even going to my ears. Some reasons how I could be kept late quickly flash by and I find myself wishing I had not taken Mr. Hiddleston's offer. With my skin still burning, I make my way around the front desk as he follows me on the other side. The gate is shut, and due to my arms being preoccupied, I realized I might have to swing it using my hip, nothing too abnormal. I helped out Mrs. Gibbons last year and would do the same thing when my arms were full. However, Mr. Hiddleston was not accustomed to my way of opening the gate. Just as I go to butt it, Mr. Hiddleston reaches out. In an awkward exchange, Mr. Hiddleston's hand, which was aiming to wrap around the gate, collides on my hip instead.

It's nothing terribly exciting but enough to get a gasp and a jealous exchange from Ellie, and damn right I'll take that.

He pauses barely a second before quickly retracting his arm to his side. A blush of the same shade of scarlet cover our cheeks, an awkward laugh bubbling out.

"I'm sorry," I shyly push out.

Shaking his head, now making sure his hand is on the gate, Mr. Hiddleston bashfully looks down and opens up the exit for me. "Don't be, love. It was my fault."

"If you want to be the culprit, be my guest," I reply sassily. I don't want to see if my comment amused him or caused a cringe, so I don't look up. Instead, I look around for something to make our trip easier. "Did you want me to get a cart instead of carrying them up? It's up to you."

Shrugging, Mr. Hiddleston begins taking books from the stack, leaving me with less than half. "I don't mind walking if you don't mind. I missed my morning jog, so I'm trying to compromise the best I can."

I nod and kindly smile, even though my insides and my weak muscles are upset I took on the mission. "Walking it is then. Lead the way!"

Mr. Hiddleston turns on his heel, passing a smile to Mrs. Gibbons. "Thank you for letting me steal your little helper."

"Just return her the way she's leaving," Mrs. Gibbons retorts.

"We'll see," he replies, sending me a smirk and a wink. If the man wanted to turn my knees into jelly, he already succeeded from the first introduction. Now he's just teasing my flustered heart. "Just this way, love," Mr. Hiddleston tells me. I'm too afraid to speak, so I nod, smile, and follow beside him up the staircase.

[elbiotipo]

i agree but also offer a different perspective: after years of being a "traditional" nerd, y'know all good grades perfect student, basically a pretentious ass who loved to gloat about how smart i was, it's very freeing to just allow myself to joke and say i'm a fucking idiot. i'm not better than anyone else. those jokes are a reminder to myself of that. it doesn't mean i value knowledge any less. just that perfection is not real and i can just be a dumbass, as a treat.

But that's the thing! Good grades don't equal smartness, bad grades don't equal people being dumb. Some of the smartest, wisest people I know never finished elementary school, and people who score consistently well in standard exams often have very grave misconceptions or lack of understanding. Education does not equal intelligence.

But leaving besides that, it's still bad IMO to call yourself dumb. You are just denigrating yourself, and that's never really healthy, but also you're denying your own hard work, your potential, and indrectly telling other people that they shouldn't care about it either. We all are a little dumb, I myself am a mess and I know it, and I also hate pretentious smart people (even when I'm sometimes one), but going all the other way, praising ignorance, in a world when that's exactly what people in power want of us, to be satisfied in our own ignorance...

You can appreciate knowledge and let other people know you do without going "I'm dumb lmao head empty", that only hurts yourself.

Of course, feel free to do it if you wish, I won't stop you.

[titan-fodder]

I am basically reiterating what I've said in my comments, but:

HOW did you get ME to have the hots for MICHE of ALL characters??? Mans was NEVER on my radar, but now? Damn, he's sticking around man, we love a man who digs horrendous Hawaiian shirts... ALSO, when you brought up Dune, I groaned audibly then mumbled "oF cOURSE hE wOULD!!!" over and over to myself like lunatic while giggling, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE WOULD!!

{I enjoy your work no matter what the subject is at this point, like maybe it was the forbidden monke man and Erwin love triangle that brought me here.... but I stayed for the quality writing that makes me attracted to fictional men that I never expected to be attracted to, lol.}

{ANYWAY, I highly enjoy the longer chapters, and I can't wait to read more 😤}

UNTIL THE NEXT ONE!

~bo

• • • •

(p.s. : if you have a taglist for this one, can you SLAP me the fuck on it? if not, that's cool, I'll just check your account daily 😌)

(p.p.s. : me to Miche)

1) what do you mean of all characters??? man has ALWAYS been a king. he deserves so much love and so many blowies. I volunteer to give him both

2) I always always always picture miche as a big fucking nerd. and, like, a little weird. like, yeah, I see Zeke as a nerd too, but he's more pretentious about it. like, underground video games and classic lit and old editions of d&d. meanwhile miche has magic cards and the d&d novels and knows all the Zelda games like the back of his hand. I just can't shake the headcanon.

3) I'm so glad you branched out because of my style. like, sometimes I wish I could be more purple prose-y, but I just like dialogue too much. and I swear and type "like" a lot cause that's realistic to my dumb self 😐

4) I hate doing tag lists, but I can tell you the next part will come out next week. give people time to read these two chapters.

THANK YOU, BO 😘😘

[punkscowardschampions]

Zelda & Zach

ihatemyguts: Good thing you told me how bubble boy posi Robyn’s ‘rents are

ihatemyguts: ‘cos that felt like such a brush-off

ihatemyguts: I feel kinda bad, it’s low-key just upset her with no shopping trip pay-off 😬

inandout: your first date was today

inandout: the insane jealousy must have forced me to forget

ihatemyguts: Obviously

ihatemyguts: moping and staring out of open windows would be bad for your health

ihatemyguts: probably

ihatemyguts: can’t have that

inandout: mope hard enough and fling myself all over the house, they’ll call it exercise

ihatemyguts: I’d let Rob know but her parents would probably sue me

ihatemyguts: I did some research

ihatemyguts: and yeah, flare-ups fucking suck, but if she was struggling that bad rn she’d be in hospital getting her 💉 on

ihatemyguts: makes me ⁉️ if the meetup will happen

inandout: makes me wonder if her brothers are allowed out

inandout: if they are maybe they can help us smuggle her to the meetup

ihatemyguts: not just a pretty face

ihatemyguts: that’s a damn good idea

ihatemyguts: I can slide in their DMs

inandout: Cranking up the jealousy metre to give me a full work out, I see, are you gonna be a PE teacher when you grow up?

ihatemyguts: *prays they aren’t like 12*

ihatemyguts: imagine if that was my life’s ambition

ihatemyguts: wear unflattering sportswear and give kids complexes

ihatemyguts: even without the potential life-shortening illness, I’d reconsider that

inandout: it tracks that you’d wanna make them 💩 and bringing back the bleep test could work

ihatemyguts: okay I’m not 🦹‍♀️ or 🐯 levels of sweet but is that what you really think of me? 😏

inandout: I think there’s only one rebel teacher coming to mind and I haven’t watched that film so all I know is they stand on desks

inandout: probably not a perfect fit for you

ihatemyguts: I could force you to watch it for our first date

ihatemyguts: and ask you, what your dream job would be

inandout: Netflix and chill or cinema screening of the ‘classics’?

inandout: we could do a drive-thru

ihatemyguts: hmm 🤔

ihatemyguts: there are pluses to ‘em all

ihatemyguts: cinema, we could laugh at all the snobs and 🤓s

inandout: Cool, reach out to me with the time + date when it’s showing

inandout: Are you allowed 🍿?

ihatemyguts: oh hell no

ihatemyguts: have to find another way to hold my hand

inandout: 🦸‍♀️ said she was gonna look up ice breakers and stuff, hopefully it was a fruitful search and she won’t mind sharing the info

ihatemyguts: do you think she legit didn’t realize how thirsty that boy was for her

ihatemyguts: or is it all uwu coy-ness

inandout: It’s hard to tell

inandout: but if I remember my glasses I’ll do my best to decode her body language from 6 ft away

ihatemyguts: aside from hospital, have you ever met someone else with cf?

inandout: Nope

inandout: jokes aside, it really is discouraged

ihatemyguts: that’s a hard one to get your head around

ihatemyguts: far as adjustments go

inandout: getting Robbie at this meetup won’t be easy

inandout: separate ones mean we might not have her there

ihatemyguts: I reckon we can trust you and Kara to keep the teen love story fictional

ihatemyguts: for all our sake’s

inandout: She’ll get her man

inandout: it’s not like bad advice and dating pitfalls are just a click away

ihatemyguts: cosmos never steered ANYONE wrong

inandout: Yahoo answers neither

ihatemyguts: might be confused as to why they’re not related

inandout: [I like to think he’s just sending his fave yahoo answer answers now for the lols]

ihatemyguts: [meme back and forth lads]

ihatemyguts: if she gets her date we could go into the matchmaker business

ihatemyguts: start at home

ihatemyguts: 🤖 don’t last forever

inandout: Rob’ll need to be next or she won’t forgive us

inandout: and we’ll soon get tired/guilty of seeing the amount of 😿💔 spam the chat

ihatemyguts: we’ll have to liberate her first

ihatemyguts: in a literal way

ihatemyguts: not the pretentious, free your 🧠 type of vibe

inandout: Kidnap’s playing into her parents’ fears but we don’t have a better option

ihatemyguts: now it’s my turn for a potential 💡

ihatemyguts: what if that is exactly what she should do

inandout: jump scare them?

ihatemyguts: if she did some actual wild shit to show them they’re being suffocating, ‘scuse the mention, then they’ll have to compromise and let her do normal kid things and everyone will win

ihatemyguts: I realize getting her to wild out might be a problem

ihatemyguts: catfish it though?

inandout: 💡⭐️

inandout: getting her to agree to do it for real would take longer than we have but you’re right, faking it wouldn’t take any time at all

ihatemyguts: get Lauren to picture whatever the hell she’s up to

ihatemyguts: sorted

inandout: + there’s your next photo challenge ready to be accepted, dressing as if you were going on a date with 👵🌈✨ instead

ihatemyguts: hold my neon

ihatemyguts: and think, do we clue Rob in on this plan now or do it on her behalf first, ‘cos we could hit up her house phone with some madness to get ‘em sus now and when she’s like wuuuuut it’ll sound even more

ihatemyguts: or is that a bit evil genius instead of 🦹‍♀️

inandout: Does she even have a house phone? We don’t

inandout: you’ll have to find another way to trick my parents into believing I’m a badass

ihatemyguts: I bet they do

ihatemyguts: can’t trust a mobile

ihatemyguts: and I bet they don’t have a microwave, they’re that sort

ihatemyguts: obvs I’ll just direct them to Lauren on your friends list with a 🤔

inandout: We should probably warn her, in case she takes it the wrong way

inandout: or decides to stand up to them for her YA movie moment

ihatemyguts: yeah, you’re right

ihatemyguts: if she doesn’t go for it, her brothers might be of use still

ihatemyguts: have to focus my evil energy elsewhere

ihatemyguts: such as…

ihatemyguts: 🥁

ihatemyguts: [one of the crazier lewks from babyteeth for the photo challenge]

inandout: 🤞🏻 one of them is old enough to drive the people carrier

inandout: Uhh… that was a suspiciously fast transformation

ihatemyguts: didn’t know you was challenging a pro?

ihatemyguts: and someone with a lot of time on her hands

inandout: I do now

inandout: and I’m guessing it’s not every day you get stood up based on what else I know about you

ihatemyguts: it’s a first

ihatemyguts: not that I constantly ask people out

ihatemyguts: but that is what I’ve put across so fair enough

ihatemyguts: what am I interrupting for you?

inandout: I’m waiting on friends

inandout: this could end in both of us being stood up

ihatemyguts: am I a drag you down with me type?

ihatemyguts: hmm

ihatemyguts: nah, I’ll cross my fingers that your friends aren’t flaky

inandout: Late, but I’d be too if it wasn’t my house

inandout: What are you gonna do now shopping’s off?

ihatemyguts: life is one big photo challenge, right

ihatemyguts: yours is ‘whatever will make your friends double-take when they open the door’

ihatemyguts: it’s a good question

ihatemyguts: we’re going to virtual shop tomorrow but she wasn’t up for it today

inandout: Wait for it and their faces

inandout: + you’re virtually invited to watch movies and play games, you won’t be the only one who isn’t here in person

ihatemyguts: 👍

ihatemyguts: cool

ihatemyguts: meeting new people is my new thing, as long as your mates are down/not the level of nerd that they might get a nosebleed if a girl is about

inandout: Some of them are girls if that helps

inandout: and my brother won’t be there to bring down the cool

ihatemyguts: low-key a shame

ihatemyguts: have to meet him before the first date though

inandout: I’ve got a father you can ask for permission if you’re feeling old-fashioned

ihatemyguts: full set

ihatemyguts: fun

ihatemyguts: mines in scotland so we’ll let you off that trek

inandout: But a road trip is a coming of age movie staple! 😫 Has Netflix aired any YA without one + are you willing to take that risk?

inandout: mine’s a workaholic but we’ve got years to catch him

ihatemyguts: forget the meds, see who gets fucked up first

ihatemyguts: it’d be a journey, for sure

ihatemyguts: do you know what he does? ‘cos so’s mine and I couldn’t tell you, tbh

inandout: Or mix them up and see what happens when you take the ones for my 💩

inandout: He’s a sales manager, he says, but why so vague?

ihatemyguts: sounds like something they’d do at cool parties

ihatemyguts: and that sounds suspish

ihatemyguts: they should have this 🤓 but with a moustache instead of the buckteeth

ihatemyguts: dads are elusive creatures… conspiracy time, what are they all up to

inandout: Not sure that’s the topic Rich has been watching vids on but I’ll ask

ihatemyguts: he can always tactfully ignore you if he’s 😳

ihatemyguts: like he does with 👵🌈✨ when she’s extra

ihatemyguts: more than usual

inandout: Be harder to do that in person

ihatemyguts: I think everyone will still get on

ihatemyguts: unless fibrofog shows, then that’ll be teen show worthy drama, of course

inandout: I think he’s genuinely blocked, he’d need a 2nd account to find out about it

ihatemyguts: hope he’s seen catfish too

inandout: He’d be a fan of the one where the man refused to believe it wasn’t Katy Perry

ihatemyguts: it does seem like the sort of thing she’d do

ihatemyguts: poor bastard

inandout: 😂

ihatemyguts: ultimate photo challenge, catfishing everyone and then going for the ruveal

ihatemyguts: might need more than just a wig 🤔😏

inandout: Dressing like her would make my friends do a double-take

inandout: [pics of some of her outrageous lewks with his head put on]

ihatemyguts: 😂😂😂

ihatemyguts: you suit the 🍦🧁🍭🍩✨

inandout: We’ve probably got a can of squirty cream lying around for hot chocolate

ihatemyguts: inhaler but make it ~sExxxIii~

inandout: [a lil video of his failed attempt to re-create that in her insta DMs or wherever because idk if they can send stuff like that here]

ihatemyguts: Katy dat you 😍😍

inandout: I’ve agreed to only string you along for 4 years not 6 and I don’t have any savings to spend 25% of on a 💍

inandout: looks like the comparison starts and stops with our black curls

ihatemyguts: not much of an orlando bloom clone myself so it’s alright

ihatemyguts: pirate is always an excellent disabled-friendly costume though so add that to the ideas board we should start

inandout: If we decide the next meetup is fancy dress, Lauren will never go back home

ihatemyguts: that’s the mood

inandout: [sends her whatever he did for the photo challenge and his friends reaction to it because why not say they’ve arrived and there’s a similar feral mood here]

[basilgrimbitch]

Day Two: Swap

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

Words: 3457

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

No warnings apart from a lot of swearing. Enjoy!

_____ 

SIMON

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

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

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

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

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

“That was once!”

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

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

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

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

I open up Instagram on my laptop and text Penny.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Simon Snow [10:04]: who is heeeeeee

Penelope Bunce [10:04]: who?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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

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

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

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

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

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

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

Simon Snow [23:14]: shut up

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

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: And smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simon Snow [23:17]: sureeeee

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

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

______

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

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

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

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

He taps my shoulder, “you okay there?”

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

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

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

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [08:31]: ur staring

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

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

“I hear you’re good at English”

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

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

“Well, I definitely don’t suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s perfect.”

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

______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______  

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

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

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

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

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

“True,” is all I manage to get out.

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

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

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

“What? Scared Snow?”

“We’re not in Harry Potter, Baz.”

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

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

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

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

“Sit, I won’t bite,” He grins at me.

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

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

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope.