#yes that quote is going to be in the edit coming out of my queue later

[tbcanary]

i have been laughing about this for a full day but it’s so funny to me that bruce is like “no… if i killed the joker for taking my boy away, i could never come back from that…” and then over in star city oliver, who has killed before and really struggled with it, is still absolutely hands down willing to kill someone for hurting connor. if he dies, so do you!

[incorrect-whos-lila]

hi! i’m mod lila, and welcome to incorrect who’s lila quotes! about the mod, rules, and tagging system can be found under the cut. i hope you enjoy your stay! :)

about the mod!

hi, i’m mod lila. you can call me that if you’d like, otherwise, i also go by marshy. i use any pronouns, but generally have a preference for he/him or they/them. i’ll be the one running this blog, as well as contributing quotes of my own to fill the queue with—currently, i’m not looking for additional mods since i don’t expect this blog to be too overwhelming to maintain, but if that changes, i’ll be sure to make a post about it! my main is @marshmellowtea, and occasionally i make unhinged posts about this game over there. :)

rules for the blog! (well actually some of these are more like loose guidelines but still lol)

submissions are open for this blog, including anon submissions. i as mod reserve the right to refuse submissions i feel are inappropriate, but hopefully those those will be few and far between.

quotes will post once a day based on queue, unless there’s a reason to change that (such as a huge influx of submissions). quotes will be both from myself and submissions, and they will be tagged accordingly. submissions will be tagged with the blog url of the submitter as well if applicable, otherwise they’ll be tagged as anon. :)

because the queue is run on submissions and my own brain power, this blog may have periods of inactivity from time to time. sorry in advance for that ^^;

if your submission hasn’t been posted in a reasonable amount of time (depending on how the queue looks that time period will probably change), feel free to send an ask about it! i just ask that you don’t hound me about it, i do have a life outside of this blog after all, lol.

if you know the source of your quote, please include it in your submission! unknown sources will be tagged as “source: unknown”, but i think part of the fun of an incorrect quotes blog is seeing where all the quotes come from so i’d like to minimize use of that tag as much as possible. if you see a quote with an unknown source that you recognize the source of, please feel free to send in an ask!

light nsfw will be allowed (think things like jokes and allusions to sexual content), and will be tagged as #suggestive. no full on smut in the inbox though, please.

this is more of a personal preference than a hard and fast rule, but i highly recommend putting your submissions in chat format if possible (or quote format, if it’s a quote for one character and you think it fits better). i’ll still publish submissions in normal text post format, but i just think it looks neater, haha. also, as mod, i may go in and edit the formatting of your post if needed for readability (ex. bolding character names, adding paragraph breaks if need be), but i’ll never change the actual text of the post itself (that includes typos, btw—if you see a typo in your submission, feel free to send in an ask to get it fixed! i just don’t want to fuck with your text without permission, it feels rude, lol). ^-^

please do not send submissions through the ask box! submissions sent through the ask box will be deleted!

any content that i feel needs a trigger warning will be tagged as “tw [thing]”, and trigger tags can be asked to be added for certain posts, though i reserve the right to deny tag requests for any reason (they will probably almost always get a yes, but there are some things that i may just be unable to tag for whatever reason. not....quite sure what those reasons could be, but i figured i'd put the warning out there, lol). on the whole, though, while i understand this game can be dark and deals with some heavy topics that are bound to be mentioned here from time to time, i’d like to keep this blog mostly lighthearted.

finally, most importantly: no discourse on the blog for any reason, lol. it's just not the place :'))

tagging system (or, aka, mod lila overexplains himself lol)

i wanna preface this section with that i don’t expect you guys to tag your submissions yourself—as mod, i’m more than happy to do it! especially since i’m a little particular about the way i order them, haha. that being said though, if you do want to tag your posts, this is the way i’ll be doing it. don’t worry about following it to the letter if you do add tags, because i’ll go in and edit them as needed like the perfectionist little shithead i am, lol.

tags should (mostly) be in the same order every time: fandom tags first (i use both who's lila and who’s lila?), character tags generally in the order they appear in the post (mentioned characters may or may not be tagged on a case by case basis), ship tag(s) if applicable, trigger tags if applicable, the quote source, whether it’s a submission or my post, the submitter’s url/anon, and any commentary from myself or the submitter (i am a chatty bitch, apologies in advance lol. if both me and the submitter have commentary, i’ll differentiate our comments in some way, with the submitter’s comments always coming first).

the submission tag will be, well, submission, lol, and my quotes will just be tagged “mod lila”.

as stated above, triggers will be tagged “tw [thing]”. sources will be tagged “source: [thing]”.

general posts/announcements will be tagged “mod lila whispers to y(o)u” (like when she whispers to yu in that one scene? haha. i’m clever i swear—)

any other tags/tagging conventions that need to be created will be added here as needed!

[findmeinthespacebetween]

About / FAQ

Hi!  I don't know if you already know me from one of my other blogs, but hi, welcome to the party!

My name is Maddie/M (they/them). I’ve been a descendants fan since the first movie and after spending several years obsessing over it with my best friend, building headcanons and creating ocs and brainstorming fic ideas, I finally decided to brave the bigger world of the descendants fandom!  I’m also a long time oc blog where I’ve been posting about descendants ocs for several years now, so while this is not an oc exclusive blog, I will be posting about my ocs here as well as about the general descendants universe!

Fair warning, it been a while since I read the books, I love the movies but they don’t always make the most sense, and I don’t consider Rise Of Red as canon.  I mostly stick to relative-canon and just expand upon what we’re given, but there are a few things that I throw out and other headcanons that I just generally have that will show up throughout everything I come up with!  You totally don’t have to agree with my ideas and I’m always happy to chat or hear about other perspectives, but I know that I stray from canon and I’m not going to stop doing that!

This blog will be run in equal parts by queue and by just posting things when I feel like it – if I can think of a fun queue tag to make it easier to tell those apart then I will tag accordingly, but so far no such tag exists so please be patient if I’m not immediately responsive, I might not be online, I might have gotten busy, or I might have just totally spaced out, please give me a couple of hours to a day before thinking I’m ignoring you!

Here some important things!

OCs

I have a desktop masterlist right here, and then mobile friendly ones here ( a-k ) and here ( l-z )!  Unless otherwise stated, my ocs all exist within their own bubbles and don’t overlap unless I pull one of them into another verse just as background/filler characters!

Fancast List

I stick to the canon casting from the first 3 movies but for book characters and parents, I’ve spent a long time creating my perfect fancast.  My fancy desktop cast list is here, my mobile friendly cast lists are here (the kids) and here (the adults)!

Crossovers etc

I can be a bit iffy about descendants crossovers just because of my extensive non-canon worldbuilding, but I’m always happy to chat!  Please don’t use my ocs without permission (there are some that I’m cool with being thrown in as background characters for fic filler and others that I’m really not), I’m open to general crossover chats, and I’m tentatively open to rp ( I have an rp blog as well but it isn’t descendants exclusive/specific )

Can I find you anywhere else?

Yes!  Within Tumblr I have my main blog ( @randomestfandoms ), my oc blog ( @randomestfandoms-ocs ), and my rp blog ( @randomestroleplays) where I also sometimes talk about descendants stuff!  Outside of Tumblr, I’m also on ffnet, ao3, Wattpad, and YouTube, all under the name randomestfandoms

Key tags

I do have a full navigation page here, but as a quick overview!  I tag all of my ocs as oc: [ first name ] and canon characters as canon: [ first name ] ( exceptions being Davy Jones, Evil Queen, Jane darling, and characters who only have one name or a title and name, in which case I just use that name )

I also have tags for edits ( and specific tags for art, gifs, graphics, videos, and writing ), fancasting, headcanons, ocs, personal, shipping, world building ( and auradon & isle specific world building ), and miscellaneous nonsense!

( yes they are all unnecessarily long but they are also all descendants quotes so I’m okay with that )

Fanon

So I’m not going to shit on Fanon, sometimes I absolutely love fanon and I love how passionate the descendants fandom in particular is, especially over characters that have barely any content!  However I spent years developing my personal descendants hcs and ocs in a void with my friend before I even started talking about my descendants ocs on that blog, and even longer before I even tried getting involved in the bigger fandom, and this is part of why!  I fully support everyone’s rights to their own headcanons and I don’t necessarily think that mine are objectively superior, but I’m also not going to change my own take on this universe!  Like I said with canon, I’m always happy to chat and hear about other perspectives and ideas, but I’m going to keep doing my own thing!

I also pull from other Disney franchises that aren’t part of the descendants universe, and I veer on and off from which live action movies I adopt into my canon!

It’s been a long time since I’ve made an about/faq type of post so if you think I should include anything else, please lmk!

[mcheang]

Exclusive

Edna Mode was a renowned designer, famed for her harsh but accurate critiques, her fierce and practical lines, and of course, being the designer of the majority of superheroes.

And now she was hosting a fashionista gala, inviting those worthy of a Mode gala. As for those asking for an invite, Edna just asks who they are and calls security.

Lila, as the self-proclaimed BFF of Ladybug, and Gabriel’s muse, had already boasted of receiving the glamorous invitation. It didn’t just come in an envelope, it came out of the sky in a rosewood chest, accompanied by a bottle of wine and canapés. (Or so she says. Adrien and Marinette rolled their eyes. Chloé wasn’t paying attention)

Alya: Girl, I’m so jealous. But hey, maybe this will be a good thing. After all, Adrien is going with Kagami. Chloe will just stick with her mom. That means it’s a chance for you and Marinette to know each other better.

Oh yeah, did I mention that everyone knows Marinette is MDC?

Lila forced a grin but didn’t want to make any promises.

Imagine Lila’s rage to know she wasn’t given an invite because she was just a model. Adrien was the heir to a fashion company. She was not.

With all the bragging Lila did, she can’t back out or Chloe and Marinette will call out her absence. (Chloé learned about Lila being a guest from Sabrina later from gossiping)

So, she stole Marinette’s invitation. She did some editing and made her own customised invite, brandishing it for her class to see.

Marinette saw her invitation missing, rolled her eyes and reported the theft to Edna. Plz, everyone knows Edna invited her. She didn’t really need a piece of expensive paper.

The day of the gala arrived, and Lila brought out her invite.

The guard looked at his clipboard. “You’re not on the list.”

Lila: No, but I do have an invite. Obviously someone must have made a mistake with your list.

The guard snorted. “If that’s the case, then your fingerprints and eye scans should have already been registered. That’s what opens the doors.“

Lila gulped and thought about sneaking in with the next guest. But no such luck. Security made sure one person entered at a time.

As the security guard moved to push Lila back into the crowd of fans, Lila cried out that she knows Ladybug and Gabriel.

Guard: what’s your point?

Lila: You’ll be fired for this!

Guard: Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this all before.

Another guard just scoffed. “You’re only a model. One of many in the industry. Miss Mode doesn’t care for models.”

Lila: what are models if not the face of fashion?

“Spoiled, stupid little stick figures with poofy lips who think only of themselves” Edna herself was at the entrance, wondering what was causing the disruption in her guest entrance flow.

Lila: How can you say that? Then why would Ladybug be my Best Friend?

Edna: the day Ladybug says she is your Best Friend is the day I wear crocs. And I don’t mean crocodile leather.

Edna points at a random guard. “You, get this so-called model out of the way. She is blocking the queue.

Oh by the way, Edna calling out Lila was caught on camera by the reporters.

One of them questioned why she was kicking out Gabriel’s muse when his son, a supermodel himself, was invited.

Edna: I did not invite the boy because of his face. I invited him because I saw potential (basically she realized he was Chat Noir. She would never invite Adrien otherwise. As seen from her quote, she doesn’t have a high opinion of models) That is, if he ever gets out of his father’s shadow. Because, let’s face it darling, what can Adrien do besides look pretty and play with swords and piano? You would think the boy would be in part of business meetings, but no. At this rate, Gabriel needs this gala to get out of that stuffy house. Realize that maybe his parenting methods are flawed compared to some other talented figures here. Look at Miss Kagami, focused on upholding her family legacy of fencing. MDC already knows how to run her own business after learning a bit from her parents. Even Audrey’s daughter has been joining in on becoming a fashion critic and throwing parties for political parties. But I must go, my guests await.

Back inside the party, guests were avoiding a seething Gabriel’s eyes. He had come to scout out the superhero guests, only to be called out by Edna on live tv.

Marinette went up to Edna and asked one of her fashion idols why she burned the Agrestes in public.

Edna: do you think Gabriel would change his parenting ways if we did not expose them to the influential figures of this industry, as well as the public eye? I guarantee you Adrien will be allowed more freedom of choice, lest Gabriel wants his son to be known as a coddled boy who can’t even make his own decisions.

Edna didn’t bother softening her sharp voice as she says these words.

Adrien flushed.

Quickly changing the subject, Marinette asked why Edna hated models.

Edna: it’s not that I hate them personally. I just hate their jobs and what they represent. Models nowadays are beautiful only according to the world standards. People who see them want to be like them, never mind that the models they see on the screen are airbrushed to unrealistic and impossible perfection. Now models focus only on their own appearance, trying to maintain their beauty as time ages them. They go on diets and become superficial. Whereas outside the modelling industry or such like, you don’t need to be stereotypically beautiful to be worthy. Where your worth is measured in kindness and bravery and talent and intelligence and anything beyond superficiality.

Adrien overheard and he frowned, not liking the idea where his appearance on ads is not exactly right. He only joined the company to make his father happy. But maybe it’s time he stepped into the business side of things and exit the modelling world. Bonus: no more Lila!

Edna snorted, “Though I must admit Gabriel surprised me with his newest model. Her attitude is lousy but she doesn’t strike me as a model. She just doesn’t have that model walk. But enough about the old man, my dear MDC, let’s talk about you. I love your gender-neutral line. And was wondering if you would like to join me in creating my next line of clothes for the Incredibles. A rare opportunity but I like style. Now take this offer before I change my mind.”

Marinette: wait, do I have to fly over or-

Edna: you are too excited, darling, but don’t worry, my assistants will send you the details.

Why are the Incredibles getting a new look? The kids are growing up and Edna wanted to move on to new styles.

As Marinette was flabbergasted, Audrey congratulated her for landing the job. Kagami and Adrien also beamed at her good fortune.

Even the Incredibles admitted they looked forward to working with her. Violet was a big fan.

Gabriel was seething and thought about akumatizing himself but come on, one villain against a room of superheroes? No thanks.

Drinking a glass of wine, he eventually admits that Edna had a point, however loudly and rudely it had been announced.

He would not be around forever and he wanted to leave the company in Adrien’s hands. In order for that to happen, his son needs to know business (if he can’t design, he can hire designers)

And yes, Lila was a lousy model. She survived by shooting with professional models who managed to overpower her mediocre work. But a deal was a deal. Besides, her contract was only for a year.

After the gala, Adrien happily quit modelling (aka Lila) to spend more time with his father, learning about how to run a company.

Marinette and Edna proudly claimed credit for the fashionable Incredibles.

Violet also became the talk of the school for her MDC exclusives.

Lila had been humiliated on air. Alya hesitated but finally did her research. At the end, she collapsed over the ruined credibility of her blog. But she can still get revenge by informing the principal, Ms Bustier and Mrs Rossi what Lila lied about. The perks of being a class vice president for a busy class president is that she also has the contacts list for emergencies.

Considering how Lila framed Marinette, there would be no suspension or detention. Only expulsion. Good luck finding a new school when Edna’s gala was a global topic.

When Lila returned to school for her last week (it takes time to gather evidence and get the attention of busy adults), nobody wanted to talk to her or even exchange glances. She quietly kept to herself, hoping for this to blow over soon. She was still a model working for Gabriel. She could befriend other supermodels (as if. Like they would want to befriend her after Edna called her out)

Hell, even her jobs were down. Gabriel just told her to take test shoots to fill up her portfolio until the hype died down (aka her contract expired)

When Lila was expelled, she was ready to be akumatized into Chameleon again. Except one problem. Everyone avoided her like hell so how could she kiss her target. Even Adrien was told to stay away lest his reputation be tarnished.

Ok, I admit it. I was hit by “I’m no Angel” quotes as I wrote this. But seriously, does anyone feel weird at the idea of trying to become thinner when your weight is just right, all the while you know there are people out there even thinner than you are and are starving, not because they want to be stereotypically thin, but because they cannot afford food?

[fu-yao]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you so much for tagging me @lan-xichens​, I’ll try my best to explain how I made this set from start to finish hehe ♡ and also a big thank you to @suibianjie​ @highwarlockkareena​ @nyx4​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ and you as well Kris for putting this all together! Content creators get a lot less recognition than they deserve for all the time they put into their content, so getting everyone to see the (sometimes excessive) process we all go through to put our content in our blog, I hope it creates a positive change!! 💖

1. Planning

The set in question was actually requested by someone so they could celebrate their friend’s birthday! At first I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going to be able to finish it on time (college is very hectic right now) but I was able to finish it three days before the deadline which was may 1st! ^-^

The first thing I did was decide what characters I wanted to use in the set, I first reached out to the person who requested the set if there were certain characters they wanted me to use but they said they didn’t know enough to really give me any directives outside of the quote. I decided, since the quote is applicable to the entirety of the show, that I would try to put in as many characters as possible.

Thus, of course, came the hunting for scenes. Those of you in the net discord surely know I came into the content help channel a few times to ask for certain scenes here and there, and eventually I had to download an additional 10 episodes to the back then 20 or so episodes I had in my CQL episodes folder.

As you can see I have 30 random episodes of CQL downloaded (slowly but surely getting to the point where I have all 50 episodes downloaded) and I think I ended up using scenes out of at least 20 of those episodes.

I planned out beforehand what characters I would use per gif. I knew obviously I would start out with Wangxian, them being the main characters of the show, and then would work my way down the list. The second gif consists of Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning. They’re all family pairings, two being siblings and one being a married couple. The next gifset consists of the Yi City characters, then the fourth gif consists of the juniors, and the final gif has Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen in it.

I have to admit though that when I had made the first four gifs I’d forgotten who I would put in the last gif and the when I thought about it the first time around I could only think of Lan Qiren and the very cursed Yaoyang ship 😭 it was only at dinner time that same day that I remembered I hadn’t put Jiang Cheng in my gifset yet and that’s when I thought of the other characters as well.

I had already made my first two gifs when I went to check Hanyi’s blog for layout inspo and eventually I decided I wanted to try a triangle-ish layout, which I doodled below. I eventually ended up changing the layout of the last gif in the final design. It was also the first time I would work with a triangle-ish layout so I was a bit nervous as I was scared it wasn’t going to work out...

2. Creating

I use Avisynth 2.5 and Adobe Photoshop 2021 (the paid version, unfortunately, I need it for school except I didn’t need it this year but I wanted it so I paid for it with my own money ouch) to make my gifsets! I always start out with trimming down all the scenes I’m going to use into three to five second videos and putting them through Avisynth. This time around I did it separately for each gif I made, simply because I needed so many scenes. I would include a screenshot of my “gif vids” and “temp” folders but I’ve already deleted all the videos, which is what I usually do immediately after a set is posted.

I’ll try my best explaining this gif by gif since each one had a different layout!

2.1 Wangxian

I think I had up to five different designs of this gif 😭 it started out with the gif on the left originally being more centered and the quote right smack in the center but somehow it felt a bit too... empty? I changed up the design and pulled the gif over to the right and put the two closeups on the left, the exact opposite of the gif I eventually ended up with. I switched things around one more time and saved the gif as you can see it right now, except I didn’t include the lines yet. It was only as I finished up my fourth gif that I decided this gif needed lines as well so I added them ^-^

2.2 Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning

I got the inspiration for the font layout on this gif from this Wenzhou post! I hadn’t tried it before and when I did for this gif I was very happy with the way it turned out :D I wanted to portray that life is a pile of good and bad things, as the quote says, in CQL by mirroring these happy scenes side by side with the sad scenes

2.3 Yi CIty

My first time working with the triangle layout!! Putting in the lines and making sure they would line up with the second gif took me the longest of all actually  😭 I think once I got the line on the left in I just copy pasted it and flipped it horizontally so I didn’t have to fiddle around with angling it anymore :’) my original idea was to get a happy Song Lan scene and a sad A-Qing scene, but when I stumbled upon this A-Qing scene in ep38 I just had to put it in there because her smile is so precious 🥺 Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen in the center are also supposed to be mirrored, with Xue Yang embodying the “bad things” and Xiao Xingchen the “good things” ! I also think the Yi City characters fit this part of the quote very well!!

2.4 The Juniors

Ah yes, the junior quartet!! :D I had this planned out from the very beginning, that I would include happy versus sad juniors in the “vice versa” part of the quote, and I think it worked out quite well! My first idea was to put the “vice versa” completely in the special font and have it typed out over the gifs like I did with the “vice” but as I typed out the “versa” I realized it had one letter too much to be able to do that 😭😭 it took me a while to come up with how I would position the “but” and “versa” and after some moving around I decided to just place them the way I did in the final gif! For the font, I duplicated the “vice” and added a stroke to the duplicate, then I changed the fill setting to 0% so I could slightly drag the duplicate away from the original layer to create the effect that’s in the gif — also, finding a scene in which Jin Ling smiles is really difficult.... he barely even smiles in the scene I ended up using :(

2.5 Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen

The final gif!! I feel like this might come a little across as “I promise I didn’t forget these characters” because they’re a very odd quadruplet to put together, but they were the most important characters left to put in the set! I was thinking of putting Nie Mingjue in here together with Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen, but I did feel he fit more with his brother up in the second gif. Mei @mylastbraincql​ cheered me on making this gif for which I was very grateful :D <3 the layout came to be after I googled “how to evenly split a rectangle in four” because I didn’t want a repeat layout in the set  (*/∇＼*)

2.6 Coloring

For the coloring I pretty much did all of the tweaking on the first gif and then copy pasted all of it onto the second, third, fourth, and fifth gif. This is usually the way I go about my coloring, I will always edit certain gifs if necessary but I don’t think I had to change the coloring much on any of these gifs? Maybe I added in a curve layer here and there, but nothing major! This is really one of my preferred coloring styles, even though I try to step outside of my comfort zones with other sets ^-^

3. Posting

I will always upload sets into my drafts and edit the caption in there as well, clicking on “preview post” a couple times to check everything looks good on my blog as well, before I post a set. However, this time, since there was a deadline and I finished before the deadline, I put this set in the queue so it would automatically post on the 1st of may! Knowing myself, I would’ve forgotten to do so </3

Whew that was... a lot 😭 did it make any sense? Probably not, but it was fun to ramble （ ´∀｀）

I’ll tag

@blinkplnk​ with this set !

@wuxien​ with this set !

@wendashanren​ with this set !

@wanyinxichen​ with this set !

@yibobibo​ with this set !

@mylastbraincql​ with this set !

@sugarbabywenkexing​ with this set !

@yiling-recesses​ with this set !

@jiancheng​ with this set !

Please feel totally free to ignore this if you’ve already been tagged and don’t want to do it again!! <3

[nuts-and-dolts-week]

Rules & posting guidelines for the week

Salutations, everyone! At this moment, Nuts & Dolts Week is still two and a half months away, but it’s getting closer every day! There will be plenty happening between now and the start of the week to get everyone ready and help inspire our creative muses. So, first things first: the rules! They’re listed below. You can also find these in the dropdown menu on the blog’s desktop page and in a link on the pinned post. And if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Stay tuned for other things in the coming weeks! 

Rules

1. Content that promotes bigotry (racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny), pedophilia, or incest is not allowed.

2. Because we want this blog to be a comfortable space for all Nuts & Dolts fans participating in the week, please keep content SFW. However, graphic content such as blood/gore is allowed since it’s probably unavoidable given recent Penny-related events in this volume. Please make sure that graphic content is tagged appropriately, though. The same applies to content with other mature nonsexual themes (for example: drugs, alcohol, death, etc).

3. Plagiarism is strictly forbidden. All work that you post must be your own, unless you have been given explicit permission by the creator to post their work. (If you have been given permission, please be clear about that and prominently credit the creator on your post)

4. Other relationships can be included alongside Nuts and Dolts, but content where Ruby and Penny are part of a larger polyship does not count as Nuts and Dolts.

5. Keep in mind that there will undoubtedly be many different talents and levels of skill being brought to this week, and all of this work is being created for free. Which is to say, be nice and don’t criticize someone’s work unless they’ve asked for criticism.

Posting guidelines

1. I’ll try to reblog as much as possible! If you want this blog to reblog things you’ve made for the week, please follow these steps:

Make sure that your work follows the content rules mentioned above.

When you post something, make sure to mention this blog with an @ so that I can see it. To increase the chance that I’ll see it, you can also tag your post with ‘nuts and dolts week 2021′ within the first 5 tags, but this is less necessary (Only the first 5 tags on a post show up in tumblr search results.).

If it’s been 12 hours since you posted something and I haven’t reblogged your post to this blog, you can go ahead and message me or send an ask to make sure that I haven’t missed it!

If you would prefer, you can use the submission box to submit your content directly to the blog. Submissions will be added to a queue to be posted during the week.

2. Feel free to adjust the prompts for your own personal preference.

3. Even if you don’t have your creation ready for its day, don’t worry! This isn’t school; you won’t get a failing grade in Nuts & Dolts if you don’t have your masterpiece ready in time. (Shipping Nuts & Dolts automatically gets you a perfect score!) This blog will be accepting and reblogging content regardless of how late it is. In fact, I’ll keep reblogging even after the week is over.

4. Any and all forms of contribution to the week are welcome! Art, writing, AMVs, incorrect quotes, cosplay, headcanons, edits, gifsets, songs, leatherbound medieval poetry done in calligraphy (yes, I’ve seen that for another shipweek), and more—everything under the sun. The more the merrier. If you can think of a medium that I’ve left out of my list, I will be suitably impressed.

[jwillgoose]

The record is finished... what now?

We finished our fourth album last week, so I thought it might be interesting (spoiler alert: it probably isn’t) to do a quick post about what happens once a record is ‘finished’ these days, and why it can seem to take so long between an album being completed and actually being released.

Before I stumbled upon a career in making music, my attitude would’ve been similar to that of many fans, I imagine - why not just put the record out as soon as possible? It’s done, you spent (presumably) ages on it, surely you just want people to hear it and shower you with praise and damning reviews? After all, that’s what Radiohead and Beyoncé seem to do, and they don’t mind if the vinyl follows several months later.

Well, Radiohead are Radiohead and Beyoncé is Beyoncé, and both of those artists (and only a handful more) releasing records is Big News in and of itself. Smaller bands and artists need to use their new record as something to build around, to try and fight desperately for attention in a very competitive industry, to route tours around, even simply to remind people that you still exist (often, admittedly, to their distress). Otherwise it’s all too easy to put something out only to see it burn out very quickly, for it to fall to the bottom of people’s ‘recently played’ streaming algorithms and swiftly fall out of the public consciousness pretty much altogether. 

That's why it’s better for 99% of bands and artists to wait until everything is ready and to try to go for one big, focused ‘bang’ (often still a whimper, admittedly), rather than trying to hit the front page of Pitchfork with a near-instantaneous release. And the main thing we’re all waiting for these days, especially with its continued resurgence and importance to artists, labels and fans, is vinyl.

Vinyl lead times pre-pandemic were already a bit ridiculously long because a large number of the pressing plants from back in the day went under or severely reduced their capacity, so we’ve been left with a relative handful of potential suppliers and an awful lot of demand from all corners of the music industry. I think The Race For Space (released Feb 2015) was mastered at the end of October 2014, so made it out there in just over 3-and-a-bit months, and that was with two test pressings after the first failed. By the time Every Valley rolled around (released July 2017) we were already at four-months-and-counting, and don’t even get me started on the White Star Liner EP (tail end of 2018, and the vinyl was late because of test pressing issues).

Anyway, you get the picture, and that’s all pre-COVID, which obviously has done precious little to improve any aspect of the economy, besides enhancing Jeff Bezos’ already undignified / obscene wealth. We were initially quoted 7 months for this album but have managed to get it down a bit from there - still, you’ll no doubt have noticed a lot of delayed releases recently and I am taking nothing for granted, on any level, with this record.

We might seem like a modestly successful band but we are also still very much a small team of people. The sheer amount of work it is to get everything ready, besides ‘just’ the music itself, necessitates a bit of a delay between completion and release. Even now, the artwork, liner notes, credits, administrative aspects (PPL IDs and so on) are queueing up for attention; that’s to say nothing of band photos, press releases, updated bios, pitches for various media features (often with ridiculously long lead times of their own), music videos, remixes, instrumentals... in short, a lot.

Then for a band like us there’s the whole tricky chicanery of designing, building, programming and rehearsing a quite fiendishly complicated live set, all while navigating the risks and uncertainties of doing so during what we hope is the tail-end of a pandemic. It normally takes me about 2-3 months to get an album ready to play live, and that’s just the music side of it - then I need to edit videos to run concurrently, give various assets to Mr B so that he can have more to play with than just an on-rails video, then all get together in a room to see what works (hint: not much) and what needs more work (hint: nearly everything). Mr B also needs a lot of time - justly so - to put together his fiendish set creations as well as creating a lot of original video output himself. Popping up on the radio to do a quick session somewhat belies the amount of work it takes to get new material ready for that stage (should it arrive - we certainly don’t assume it will).

But the main thing, still, is to try to garner as much attention, wake as many people as possible up to the fact that yes, you still exist and yes, you’re still flogging the dead horse that is your band and creative output in a perhaps vain attempt to try to prolong an unlikely career and yes, you can order the Amazing New Record soon in at least 5 different colours to ensure its safe arrival in your homes at the very second of its official release. Hello! We’re still here! Hello! We have a new record! Er.. anyone?

Anyway, that’s just a few items from the very long list of things preoccupying me and the other denizens of PSB Towers between now and release. Hopefully everything will run smoothly, the record will come out when we say it will come out and we can even entertain modest hopes of another reasonably-well-charting album. On that note, a brief aside - chart positions are still incredibly important, if only within the record industry itself. A high chart position makes a lot of people sit up and take notice - bookers, agents, festival promoters and so on - which is another reason why it’s important for those of us who aren’t in Mr Yorke’s merry gang to try to get everything out all at once (in its right place, if you will) rather than staggering digital / vinyl release dates.

Hopefully you found this mildly diverting. It’s mostly served as a nudge in the ribs for me to remind me how much I still need to get on with, so without further ado, off I will go, and on with I will get.

Yours pre-releasedly,

J. Willgoose, Esq.

(PS I’d like to make it clear I love Radiohead, and none of this is even a mild dig at them. They are one of the most wonderful musical outfits ever, and they also have the rare privilege of being able to do what they want, when they want to, which really must be lovely.)

[minusninelives]

tag game

Thanks for tagging me @tinnike It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these posts. I’m also in the middle work, bored to death so this is a good distraction.

1. Why did you choose your URL? My URL is a part of a lyric from the song Panic Station by Muse. I adore Muse and this particular lyric always sounded like it could be a good name for a blog.

2. Any side blogs? Nope, none.

3. How long have you been on tumblr? Oh man! I had to go through my archive to see how long I’ve been on this hellsite and I’ve been here since January 2012. Does that make me one of the OG tumblr users? I’ve been on and off though, there was long period of time when I was completely off tumblr. I usually pop back when I’m obsessing over something in particular.

4. Do you have a queue tag? Nope, and I don’t know how it works despite having been here for so long. Never bothered to check.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place? I don’t quite remember. At that time, I was part of a Muse community on LiveJournal and some folks there had tumblr. I was curious and wanted to check it out. That was the time I was properly introduced to what being in a fandom was all about.

6. Why did you choose your icon? Cos I’m in love with the man in my icon 🖤 My icon is a good way to tell what is ruining my life right now (in the best way possible). I adore Richard and Rammstein so it seemed fitting that I use his picture. He looks like a silver prince.

7. Why did you choose your header? Same reason as above, I guess. But I’ve been thinking about changing it to a more aesthetic shot of Rammstein or maybe something else entirely.

8. What's your post with the most notes? I have no idea. I used to post a lot of photo edits of people, musicians and movies that I like along with quotes. I used to be a graphic designer (UX designer now) so I loved playing around on Photoshop, editing photos and such. I remember one with Muse getting a lot of notes. So, maybe it’s that one.

9. How many mutuals do you have? I don’t know what this means. I guess this means how many I follow follow me? I don’t know that number.

10. How many followers do you have? 135

11. How many people do you follow? 103

12. Have you ever made a shitpost? Oh yes, I think I might’ve.

13. How often do you use tumblr each day? A lot! I’ve been coming back to tumblr a lot. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten bored with Instagram. I’m on explore or even searching for a specific tag quite often. The content on tumblr is so unique and nothing can match its level of insanity 😆

14. Have you ever had a fight/argument with another blog. Who won? Nope. I barely interact with other users. Just reblog and enjoy the posts. Off late, however, I’ve been interacting with some lovely folks in the Rammstein fandom. 

15. How do you feel about 'you need to reblog this' posts? There are times when I get influenced by those. Mostly because I don’t want any bad mojo because of my own subconscious.

16. Do you like tag games? Yes, I do! Please keep tagging me 😄

17. Do you like ask games? I feel like I might. But I’ve never tried it or never had enough followers to try it I suppose.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I think each fandom has a few accounts who are popular, either for creating amazing gifsets or for the wikipedia of info they seem to have. Not really an answer but I don’t know what else to say.

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual? I guess the equivalent of a crush on tumblr is to feel seen or included in a group that likes the same things you do. At least that’s how I see it. So yeah, I guess I do have favourites and I like it when I can be part of their little circle.

Tagging some mutuals I guess 😛

@witchmoon @notafraidofredyellowandblue @creepycaro @myvirtuallove @acertaindragoncollection @butterfliesandresistance

[livinginfictions]

Tag/Ask Game

This is a sort of Check-in Tag game thing? I was tagged by @vikingstrash, so thank you dear!

1. Why did you choose your url?

I used to have a different tumblr, and then my sister saw me on it and literally took the mouse and made me follow her own tumblr, and it made me So Immensely uncomfortable, I immediately went and made a whole new blog, and messaged all my mutuals privately to tell them I was moving so my sister wouldn't find out. As I struggled to come up with something more creative than 'time-lady," I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, "Reality sucks, live in fiction" and since livinginfiction was taken, my friend (who was helping with the crisis) and I added an 's.' Voila. Seven years later, it's the only username i have online. XD

2. Any side blog?

Three, actually. We've got @merthurismycrack where I reblog Merthur shit, @samspsychicpowers for some SPN stuff, and the side blog that's basically my main blog at this point: @asterekmess which is where all my Teen Wolf and Sterek stuff goes.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhh, I've been on this blog since August of 2014, but my old blog was started in....March 2013. I've been around a fucking while.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

HA. Fuck no. Do I look that organized? Y'all get three hours of spam reblogs, and then I disappear into the aether. How it should be. XD

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

This is essentially the same as I said for question one. Sister found the old blog, and I needed a new one. I tend to make my side blogs for more pointed material, so that my main blog can have like...the amalgamation of general stuff i like, and then I can keep the fandomy content more concentrated into the side blogs.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Originally, I did not have this icon. I had this pic I found online with these Beautiful bronze wings against a black background. But then, around the time I decided I wanted to sort of...simplify things and make my username for my online stuff all the same, with all the same pfp's so that I was easily recognized, etc, I realized that....that picture was not mine. I didn't design it or anything. And i couldn't find its source to ask for permission to use it. And it started making me feel shitty for using it in the first place. So I spent like an hour and a half trying to make my Own Wing pic to use, and failed miserably. As a last ditch effort, i went through my 'artistic' photos on my phone and found this one. I adore sky pics, and cloud pics, etc, so it was super my thing, and I just slapped it on there. Still not sick of it. XD I also went to my side blogs and changed out the pfp's for photos that I'd taken, except the sterek blog, because that one is literally just a black triskelion on a white background, and it's a pretty non-specific thing. I would have used a picture of my Own Tattoo, but it's very hard to get a picture of my back that doesn't have weird lighting, and I'm just too lazy.

7. Why did you choose your header?

All my headers are also photos that I've taken or art pieces that I've made. In the case of this blog, it's a picture I made with a 'galaxy maker' online thingy. I love green. I love blue. Ta dah. In general i just try to find something that gives me the right vibes or has the right color palette to match what it's for. (orange and blue for sterek, trees for merlin, and wings for spn)

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

On this blog? I.....just spent two hours digging through all my posts tagged 'personal' bc i wanted the post that I MADE with the most notes...and i have no idea. I mostly respond to other posts, rather than making my own. The highest note count i can find is a post i made abt having friends that aren't in your fandom, which means you can use inspirational quotes to help them through tough times without them realizing ur quoting doctor who or something. 22 notes. *fingerguns* I'm famous, i know.

9. How many mutuals do you have ?

Is...is that a thing i can check?? or do you expect me to hand count??

10. How many followers do you have right now?

Uhghhghghgh, this blog has 439 at the moment, and i'm pretty sure not a lot of those are porn bots, bc i usually screen new followers for it. a lot of them have come over from my sterek blog though.

11. How many people do you follow?

hehe....uh...36.....one of which is my husband....

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I don't even know what the requirements for something being a 'shitpost' are....but i think no?

EDIT: I Take it Back, I just found a post I made with "Hot Take: PIneapples are an honorary citrus fruit" and I believe that counts? So YES.

13. How often do you use tumblr?

Uh, nearly every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes i forget it exists for a couple days, though. It's my only social media. I dont use twitter or facebook or instagram. I Have Accounts, but I literally dont open those apps more than once a month.

14. Did you have a fight /argument with another  blog ? Who won?

My sterek blog gets in fights more often than it should. XD I'm feisty. And I dunno who wins, i think no one. it's tumblr. there's no real winning or losing.

15. How do feel about “ you need to reblog  this” post?

Oh 90% of the time I'll fucking ignore it on principle. I come to tumblr to enjoy myself and escape. I refuse to guilt the shit out of myself and my followers for not reblogging something deemed Essential. I don't care how deep the topic is or how heavy. Sometimes that's WHY I'm not reblogging it, because I don't want that shit on my blog. The other 10% of the time, I'll go to most recent reblog that Doesn't have the guilty shit on it, and then reblog that.

16. Do you like tag games?

It sounds narcissistic, but I like being tagged in them and doing them. I just Really Really Really hate tagging anyone else.

17. Do you like ask games?

Yup, I think they're fun, though I really don't think anyone wants to know this much about me.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Uhhh...I have no clue. I think...I think I might be the tumblr famous mutual, or at least my sterek blog is....

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Yup. My husband.

20. Tagged?

Uh, no one. makes me anxious. XD If someone wants to do it, go ahead and claim i tagged you, i promise no one'll call ur bluff.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Glorious art commissioned from sanexiah for my Carry On Countdown fic Strangeness and Charm for Carry On Countdown Day 9: Pattern. 

Simon and Baz favor the same coffee shop and engage in a competition over who is the most loyal customer. The competition grows heated but so do their emotions. A non-magical coffee shop AU of boys plotting, pining and falling in love.

Strangeness and Charm

Simon

“Come on, Penny.  It’s just a ten percent discount.”

“I told you, Simon, we don’t do discounts.”

“But I’m your best customer!”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Coming in here every day for the free wi-fi doesn’t make you our best customer.”

“I get a coffee every day.”

She huffs. “So do dozens of other people! That doesn’t make you special.”

“That hurts, Penny.” I frown at her. “That really hurts.”

I try with Agatha the next day. “It’s for customer appreciation, Ags.”

“We don’t do discounts, Simon.”

“Well, a loyalty card then. You know I never get my coffee at any other coffee shop.”

“You don’t go to any other coffee shop.”

“See? That’s loyalty, right there.” I lean across the counter. “I could be the first.”

She sighs. “First what?”

“The first customer in the loyalty programme.”

“We don’t have a loyalty programme, Simon. We’ve been through this.”

“Simon, stop pestering Agatha.” Penny materializes across the counter, glaring at me over her glasses. “Order your boring flat white and shove off.”

“So much for customer service,” I complain. They both ignore me.

I’m still stewing over it an hour later. I come to Watford every day, before and after class. I order coffee and a scone to go in the mornings.

I do my coursework here after class.  I can’t afford wi-fi at my flat so I come to the cafe and I sit in the front booth and work on my laptop.

I chat with the staff. I know all the other regulars. I’m basically part of the ambience.

I mention it to Ebb. “Ah, Simon, love. I don’t make the rules.”

“But you’re the manager.”

“I’m the manager but I’m not the owner. Mr. Mage doesn’t believe in loyalty programmes. Says loyalty can’t be bought.”

“That’s rot.”

“It’s company policy."

It’s rubbish is what it is.

I’m still thinking about it a week later as I’m waiting for my coffee. I’m standing by the bulletin board at the back of the cafe, looking at the flyers people have posted on it. There aren’t that many--a few people selling furniture, a flyer from someone who’s looking for a flatmate, an advert for the upcoming production of Rent at the local theatre.

And that’s when it comes to me. Watford may not have a punch card or a loyalty programme.

But it can certainly have a customer of the week.

And that customer is me.

I go home to muck about on my laptop. I find a decent selfie and create a flyer with my face in the middle of it and “CUSTOMER OF THE WEEK” at the top. I put a little quote from me talking about Watford beneath my photo and finish it off with “presented for outstanding coffee purchasing at this store” at the bottom.

I tuck it into my backpack.

When I go to Watford the next morning I tack it up in the center of the bulletin board. Looks damn good, if I say so myself.

I’m back later that afternoon. I get my coffee and settle down in my spot, laptop open. I have a paper due tomorrow so I end up being there for a few hours.

I could use another coffee.

I’m waiting for my order when I see it.

There, in the middle of the wall, is a framed photograph of some bloke.

It’s a black and white photo. Artistically lit. The bloke has shoulder-length, dark, wavy hair and a widow’s peak. Cheekbones that could cut you, they’re so sharp. He’s handsome, if you’re into those brooding, smouldering types.

Odd place for a framed photo.  

And that’s when I notice the rest. It’s not just a framed photograph. Below the photo this tosser has had the bloody cheek to write “CUSTOMER OF THE WEEK (EVERY WEEK)” in bold font.

What a fucking wanker.

I scan the bulletin board for my flyer. It’s not there anymore.

I’m furious. What the actual fuck? Who does this guy think he is?

He really thinks he’s customer of the week?

I’ve never seen him here. I’d remember if I had. I’d remember that smug, insufferable smirk, those calculating eyes.

I go up to the counter. “Penny.”

“Your coffee will be up in a minute, Simon.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about my coffee.”

“Good, then shove off. You’re blocking the counter.” “There’s no one else waiting. Penny, listen, who is that?”

She closes her eyes briefly. “Who are you talking about?”

I point dramatically to the framed photo on the wall. “Him!”

Penny squints at the photo. “That’s Baz.”

“Who the fuck is Baz?”

“Simon, hush.” “Who is he, Penny?”

“Baz Pitch. He’s one of the regulars.”

I stand up straighter. “Oh, is he?” My tone is icy.

“What are you on about, Simon? I’ve got work to do.”

“I put up a flyer this morning and now it’s gone and this arrogant bastard has plastered his snide face on the wall and taken my title!”

Penny frowns. “What are you on about?” she repeats.

“I’m obviously the customer of the week!”

She presses her fingers against her temples and sighs. “Let me take a look.”

Penny comes around the counter and marches up to the photo of this Baz. She looks it over and snorts a laugh.

That won’t do at all. There’s nothing funny about this. I pull her over to the bulletin board and point to the empty spot where my flyer was. “This is complete and utter shit, Penny.” I whip out my mobile and show her the photo I had proudly taken of my flyer that morning.

She actually laughs this time.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, come on, Simon. Baz probably saw your flyer and he’s taking the piss. It is kind of funny, you have to admit.”

“I’ll admit no such thing.” I narrow my eyes at her. “He’s made an enemy, I can tell you that.”

“Settle down, Si. Go sit at your table. I’ll bring your coffee to you when it’s ready, okay?”

“I’ll not be that easily settled, Penny. The wanker stole my title.”

I fuss and fume but I don’t have time for it, not with this bloody paper I have to finish editing. I can’t focus here, not with that sodding photo staring at me from across the cafe. I pack up my laptop in disgust and head home. I don’t need wi-fi to finish my damn paper.

I’m running late the next morning so I don’t make it to Watford until the afternoon, but it’s given me time to plan my next step. This Baz may think he’s one-upped me but two can play at that game.

I go to the uni bookstore at lunchtime and find a large frame with a mat. I make an enlargement of my original ‘customer of the week’ flyer and frame the damn thing, now poster size.  

I march into Watford and head directly for the back of the cafe. I pull the fraud’s photo off the wall and hang my own much larger and more ornately framed certificate. It looks good.

I don’t know why I don’t throw his in the trash.

I put it in my backpack instead.

I head to the counter to order my coffee. Agatha is staring at the frame I just hung on the wall. “What do you think you’re doing, Simon?”

“Proving my fucking loyalty, Agatha. What does it look like I’m doing?”

She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t respond. I don’t think Agatha is invested enough in this job, I really don’t.

I get my coffee and sit in my booth, taking a good look around the cafe when I do. There aren’t too many patrons here right now, but I’m looking for one particular person. I want to see his face when he realises what I’ve done.

Doesn’t seem to be here though, the tosser.

That’s fine. I know I’ve won.

I’ve only got afternoon classes on Wednesdays so I don’t make it to Watford until midday. I order my food and coffee and settle in.

I’m taking the first bite of my sandwich when I see it.

Fucking hell.

Across the cafe from me, projected on the blank back wall, is Baz’s face. It’s massive, taking up almost the whole surface, and right next to his smirking self--in huge font--is his fucking “customer of the week (every week)” title.

I’m livid. I’m out of my seat, my half-eaten sandwich dropping heavily onto my plate. I typically don’t walk away from food but I’m steaming. Literally.

My face is all hot and I can feel a trickle of sweat bead down my back. That fucking arsehole.

I’m at the counter an instant later. Agatha takes in the sight of me and her shoulders slump. “Yes, Simon?”

“What  . . . how . . . who the hell  . . . how can you allow that?”

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and then exhales it in a rush before she speaks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That!” I point at the giant Baz sneering at me from the back wall. “Him. How the hell are you letting him do that?”

She shrugs. I hate it when people do that. “He just wheeled it in and set it up. Customers were freaking out a bit at first. They thought it was some reality television thing. But once they saw it was just a photo on the wall they ignored it.” She gives me a flinty look. “Which is what I suggest you do.”

“I will do no such thing. This is an attack. This is not some bloke taking the piss. This involved planning. Plotting.” I lean across the counter. “Is Ebb here? I want to speak to her. She’s the manager. She needs to put a stop to this.”

Agatha rolls her eyes at me. I’m pretty damn tired of people doing that too.

“You’re the one who started it, Simon.”

“I did not. I just put up a little sign, just a bit of humor, a small way to highlight my loyalty to Watford, since none of you bother to take note of it. He’s the one who escalated it.” I point at the projector image again.

“Are you ordering anything? Because there’s a queue behind you and it’s almost time for the lunchtime rush.”

I storm back to my table.

The bastard’s ruined my meal. The sandwich is tasteless to me now.

I’m incensed. I honestly don’t know what I would do if this Baz character walked into the cafe right now. I’d be well tempted to punch him right in his too-high nose.

I half-heartedly finish my meal. I don’t even have the appetite for a scone today. There’s one thing I do before I leave. I find the projector, tucked into a corner of the cafe, near one of the bins. And I turn the bloody thing off.

I’m wracking my brain for a good response. I think about it on the walk home. I stew about it over dinner. I’m still trying to come up with something when I go to empty my backpack. I need to charge my laptop.

Oh.

I pull out Baz’s framed photo from the cafe. I forgot I had stashed it in my pack after I took it down the other day. I should throw it in the trash. I’m so furious about today’s events that I briefly consider smashing his smirking face with my fist. I don’t. I’d only cut my knuckles on the glass.

I’ll throw it away.

I’m halfway to the kitchen when I get a better idea. Baz has basically declared war with his projector stunt.

This calls for more drastic measures on my part. I need inspiration, an over the top comeback of my own.

I put the photo on top of my bookshelf, so my nemesis is staring down at me from across the room. That should get me good and worked up.

It’s late by the time I get to bed and I’ve come up blank so far.

I get a terrible night’s sleep. I’m grumpy and tired and I’ve got half a mind to go to the Costa on my way to class out of sheer spite.

But I’m not that petty.

I’ll just go without coffee. I’m not going back into Watford to see his stupid face again this morning.

I go back in and see his stupid face because I can’t function without my morning coffee and I’m too nice to go to a competitor. This, this here, is exactly why I should be the customer of the fucking year, not just the week.

And that’s when I get the idea, as I’m standing in line waiting for my coffee, trying to avoid looking at Baz’s looming visage.

I grab my coffee and bolt out of the cafe. I’ll probably need to get Ebb’s buy-in on this but if she let the bloody wanker project his face on the wall I’m sure she’ll let me do this.

The copy shop is empty and the sole employee is surprisingly accommodating. He promises me that everything will be printed and ready by evening.

He’s true to his word. I gather it all up, settle my bill and rush to the cafe.

“Where’s Ebb?” I say to Penny, breathless from my jog across campus.

“Well, hello to you too, Simon.”

“Penny, I need to speak to Ebb. Is she still here?”

Penny eyes the bundle in my arms suspiciously. “Simon, please tell me you’re not doing what you’re doing. That you’ve not got some hare-brained idea to try and escalate this thing with Baz.”

“I’m not escalating anything. He started it.”

“You started it, you great thumping git, with your ridiculous flyer.”

“It was accurate. There was no need for him to steal my title.”

“Are you listening to yourself? You’ve gone mental over a made-up coffee shop loyalty programme.”

“Where’s Ebb, Penny?”

Penny throws her hands in the air in disgust and points to a door behind the counter. “Back there.”

I rap on the door and Ebb opens it. She grins when she sees me. “Simon! Haven’t seen you in a few days. You doing alright, love?”

“Could I speak with you, Ebb?” I can feel Penny’s laser-like stare on me. She’s just a few feet away, arms crossed, glaring at me over the top of her glasses. I’m half a head taller than her but when she looks at me like this I feel about three feet tall.

Penny’s my best friend. I’d expect her to be at least a bit sympathetic.

Apparently not.

I scowl at her before turning back to Ebb. Ebb’s motioning me into the storeroom. “Come along then, Simon. Tell me what’s on your mind, dear.”

I follow her in, the door shutting on Penny’s disapproving face. Good.

“Ebb, you know how much I love Watford.”

She nods but looks a bit puzzled.

“I know I’ve talked to you about the loyalty programme before.” I keep talking before she gets that patient look of hers. The one that usually shuts down this sort of conversation with a kind pat on the back and references to Mr. Mage’s rules. “But I know you let Baz put up a photo and do that projector thing and I’m the one who started the customer appreciation post on the bulletin board and it’s not fair that’s he’s taken it over . . .” I’m babbling. I’ve got a bad habit of blustering when I’m emotional about something. I end up stumbling over my words and not making sense.

Ebb puts her hand on my shoulder and I sag. It’s going to be one of those dismissive pats, I just know it.

“Ah, Simon, I think it’s lovely.”

That’s not what I was expecting. “You think what’s lovely?”

“The way you and Baz are playing this game, back and forth.”

I’m not playing any game with Baz. I’m defending my territory. Fighting for my title, even if it’s self-proclaimed. Doing what’s right.

“Playing?”

“Yes, it’s such a creative way to help us get some attention.”

“Attention?”

Ebb laughs. “Yes, the campus newspaper sent a reporter to take some photos and write something up about your little competition. Seems customers noticed and thought it was some kind of marketing stunt.” She grips my shoulder. “So I should be thanking you both for the free publicity.”

Bloody hell.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they want to interview you and Baz next.” Her grin is so wide it makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. Ebb smiles with her whole face. She shakes my shoulder. “You’ll have to say nice things about us if they do, Simon.”

“I always say nice things about Watford, Ebb.” Now’s my chance to ask her. She can’t say no now, not with what she’s told me.

“So I wanted to ask you if it’s alright if I take it to the next level?”

I pull a shirt out of the bag and hold it against my chest. Ebb starts laughing, bending forward to put her hands on her knees. When she stands back up she’s still laughing so hard that tears are squeezing out of the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Simon. I can’t imagine what Baz will say when he sees that!”

“So it’s alright then?”

“It’s perfect. I’m sure the newspaper will be ‘round again once word gets out on this.”

I hand Ebb the bag with the shirts and a small box full of the loyalty cards I’ve had printed up.

It’s probably better if she tells the staff about this. I think Penny might downright refuse if it comes from me.

I scuttle out of the shop, avoiding Penny as I do.

It’s an absolute triumph the next morning. All the staff at Watford are wearing the commemorative t shirts I’ve had made.

They’re emblazoned with my face, full color. I’ve dispensed with the “customer of the week” twaddle. This is all about victory now.

Above my face script spells out “Watford welcomes” and then under my picture, in giant font, I’ve added “Our best customer Simon Snow!”

Take that, Baz.

Agatha looks particularly miffed as she takes my order. “I can’t believe you convinced Ebb to do this, Simon,” she hisses at me as she hands my change back.

“What’s it to you? You’ve got to wear a uniform anyway, what’s it matter who’s on it?”

She clenches her jaw. “It matters when I have to wear your face all day. It’s one thing to wear a purple t-shirt with Watford on it. It’s another to have your face on my chest and have people staring at it to try to puzzle out what it means.” She huffs. “Really, Simon, you’re so full of yourself.”

“I am no such thing.”

She waves my customer loyalty cards at me.

I thought those were a nice touch. They had eight punch points and a tiny photo of my face. I’d put “Like our coffee? Buy 8 and give the 8th to Simon!” Since Mage won’t allow them to give away free coffees I thought was nice to offer a cheerful alternative. I’d put “The Simon Snow Coffee Club” at the bottom. I think they look very professional. Nice paper stock and all.

“Those were just for fun.”

Agatha points to her shirt. “We’re all walking around with your face on our shirts, Simon. Handing out these stupid cards. We didn’t choose you as our best customer. You chose yourself. Now shove off, Chosen One, there are other people in line.”

She’s right. It’s the middle of the morning rush. The cafe is packed. I get stopped more than once on my way out by customers pointing at me and saying some variation of “It’s you, mate, you’re the one on their shirts.”

Or “Nice selfie, there. How do I get my face on one of those?”

And the one arsehole who feels the need to say “How do I get my face on her chest, my man?” I may shove my way past him a bit thuggishly.

The comments don’t stop when I leave the cafe. They go on all day, all across campus.

“It’s the Watford dude!”

“Do you get a discount with that, mate?”

“I’d wear your face anytime.” I walk faster after that one.

I pick up a campus newspaper and the Watford story is on the second page. “Coffee shop feud heats up.”

They don’t even have the shirt update yet.

I check the Watford instagram page a bit later in the day and there’s a photo of Agatha in the shirt.

She’s not smiling.

The hashtag is #SimonsaysdrinkWatfordcoffee and that makes me smile.

Take that, Baz. Who’s Watford’s most loyal customer now?

I’m at the cafe in the afternoon. Ebb tells me I missed the local newspaper crew. Seems they’re covering the story now as well. I get slaps on the back from some of the other regulars. A few arseholes ask me to buy them a coffee. I shrug it all off.

The best part is that there’s been no response from Baz. No sign of him. I’ve won. There’s no way he can top this.

I’m feeling good enough that I splurge on a mocha latte today. Penny takes my order. She looks no happier than Agatha did this morning.

“Well, is this enough customer appreciation for you now, Simon? Can you put it to rest finally?”

I’m well satisfied with this. I’d never have gone to such extremes if it wasn’t for Baz and his doomed challenge. I might not get a discount and I’ve spent a bit more than I intended with it all, but it’s alright. It’s been more fun than I anticipated, honestly.

It’s in the town paper the next day and I’m well chuffed until I get a good look at the article. They’ve got Baz’s bloody photo front and center. The brooding black and white one projected on the wall. That’s the only photo they’ve got, the one of his bloody face.

It’s the photo I’ve got sitting at home on my bookcase still. I really need to toss it when I get home tonight.

I don’t toss it when I get home.

I try not to think about it.

Penny

Baz bursts out laughing as soon as he sees my shirt. “When I said you should meet my friend Simon this was not what I envisioned, Baz.”

“Come on, Bunce. How could I resist once he’d plastered his earnest, grinning mug on the board?”

“I said you two had a love of Watford coffee in common, not that you should engage in an all out war over who is the most dedicated customer!”

“Well, there was never any question. It was always going to be me. I’m the one who literally lives above the cafe, Bunce, so when I say I live and breathe Watford coffee I’m not lying.”

“You’re too literal, Baz.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“You deserve each other, really.”

Baz

Don’t I wish.

Bunce has been going on about her friend Simon for months now, telling me how lovely he is, how she thinks we’d get along.

I know who he is. I’ve seen him on campus. We’ve had a few classes together--auditorium classes--but we’ve never actually met.

I’ve seen him here too, at Watford. You would think we’d have run into each other by now, considering how often we both frequent the cafe, but we haven’t.

That’s my doing.

Snow usually sits in the front and I choose to sit in the back. He doesn’t see me from there but I can see him.

He’s beautiful. Blue eyes. Bronze curls. Tawny, sun-kissed skin, dotted with moles and freckles. He’s almost always smiling.

I know Bunce thinks it’s odd that I haven’t taken her up on an introduction to Snow, but I can’t work up the courage.

I’m no good at meeting new people. The only reason Bunce and I get along is that we’re both overly studious misanthropes and not too concerned with making friends. I’ve got enough people in my life, I’ve not got the time or energy to invest in new people.

At least that’s what I tell myself. I’d make the time and energy for Snow.

But I don’t.

I don’t because I’m a complete pillock and I usually say something horribly cutting and snide when I first meet people because I’m nervous.

Snow makes me nervous. I’d be sure to bollocks it up.

I’m not sure I haven’t bollocksed it up with this little feud we’ve got going. I was just taking the piss, that first day, with the photo. I never intended to keep it up.

I thought he’d get a good laugh out of it. Or finally notice me sitting in the back and come over to give me a piece of his mind and then I wouldn’t be the one starting off awkward.

But he didn’t. He got flustered and flushed, and even though it was a shit way to get his attention, I’d gotten his attention.

So I kept going.

I’ve loved his responses. How he’s been so bent on besting me.

But I think what I liked the most was the way he kept looking at the projected photo of me. How his eyes would go back to that wall, over and over.

But I’m a coward. I went out the back door before he got close enough to see me.

I know the secrets to Watford. I’ve lived upstairs for two years now. My family owns this building. We’ve had it for decades.

My mother lived upstairs when she went to uni.

Then she and my father lived above the cafe when they first got married. Snow may think he’s Watford’s most loyal customer but I’ve been part of Watford my whole life.

I could let Snow have this. Let him win. He’s made it entertaining. The t shirts were a masterful idea. I think my favorite bit is how disgruntled the staff are at having to wear them. Especially Wellbelove.

I’m not one to give up easily. Snow may think he’s got this locked up.

But I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve. It’s a gamble. It could piss him off so much he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or it could intrigue him enough to seek me out.

Maybe that would give me the courage to finally go through with meeting him.

I don’t know which it will be. But I’m willing to risk it. I’m like a moth to a flame with Snow. I’ve been circling this particular fire for so bloody long.

I’m ready to risk getting burned.

Penny

Baz smirks at me as he takes his coffee and I know this isn’t over. He’s not going to let Simon win this easily.

They’re made for each other.

Simon

It’s been over two days and there’s been no response from Baz. My loyalty cards have all disappeared and the staff is back to wearing their purple Watford t shirts again, the ones with the little crest design on the front right.

Seems Mr. Mage came in, saw my shirts, and had a bit of a fit about it.

I can understand that, I suppose. But I did get the shop free publicity. That should count for something? Anyway, I made myself scarce at Watford for a day or two.

I’m back now, at my front booth, laptop in front of me. I’m almost done with this assignment. I should pack it up and head home soon.

I linger.

I know it’s pointless, since I’ve never seen him here before, but I keep wondering if I’ll run into Baz one of these times.

I know what he looks like, from the photo.

I look for him. I scan the cafe, search for him on campus now. Not sure what I’d say if I did run into him. Something stupid, I’m certain of that.

I don’t want to punch him anymore.

I think I’ve won but it’s not quite as satisfying as I was expecting.

I’m not sure I want this to be over.

I want to know what he was thinking, when he decided to put up the photo. What made him do it.

What made him keep at it. I’m curious, more than anything, I think.

About him.

About why my flyer caught his attention. If he was just taking the piss.

His photo is still on my shelf. I’m trying not to think about why that is.

Fuck. I know why that is.

Because he’s a fit twat, that’s why. Because I can’t stop looking at the photo.

Because I want to get to know the person behind that smirk.

I pack up my laptop and papers. My coffee is cold. I check the time. I probably shouldn’t have another.

I still don’t leave.

I decide to check my messages.

There’s one from Gareth. “There’s no way you can top this, mate.”

I wonder what he means by that? I look around the cafe. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, no banners, no new photos.

“Top what?”  I message Gareth back.

“You’ve not seen it then?”

“Seen what?

"The Watford insta?”

I haven’t checked it but I do now.

I tap away at my phone and pull up Instagram. I’m not sure what I’m seeing at first.

It’s the Watford crest, in purple ink that matches the store logo.

There’s an expanse of skin around it and the glimpse of an arm.

It’s a fucking tattoo.

It’s a nice arm. It’s a particularly nice chest. Flank? Side?

I don’t know what exactly to call this part of a person’s anatomy, but all I can say is whoever it is, they’re fit as hell. I can see the play of muscles under the skin. The definition of their tricep.

And the fucking Watford logo, with a bit of redness surrounding it.

Which means it’s a fresh tattoo.

And now I know exactly whose arm that is, whose fucking fit body that is.

It has to be Baz.

Fucking hell.

I feel a wave of heat in my chest and I don’t quite know if I’m furious or turned on. Or both.

Fuck.

He’s won. I can’t top this.

I should be more upset about it, I suppose, but I can’t seem to muster up the outrage. I’m far too focused on this image.

I take a closer look at the photo, try to enlarge it, but it’s bloody Instagram so I can’t keep it enlarged.

I take a fucking screeshot because I’m beyond all reason now.

It can’t be real. He wouldn’t get a tattoo of the logo just to win.

Would he?

It looks real.

But maybe it’s just a marker. Felt tip. Maybe he had a friend draw it, to make me think it’s real. So I’d give up.

I check insta again and see a tag on the post.@blackaspitch. That’s got to be Baz? Who else would they tag?

I click on the handle and I know it’s him as soon as I see his profile page. Same long black hair. Same arresting grey eyes. It’s him.

It’s Baz.

I hit ‘follow’ before I quite process what I’m doing.

And then I’m typing out a message.

I don’t know what I’m thinking.

Baz

My side fucking hurts.

I’d gone to Watford after I’d had it done, to show Ebb the tattoo. Her eyes had widened and she’d put her hand on my shoulder gently. “Baz, love, that must have been so painful.”

“It’s fine.”

“You didn’t have to keep going, you numpty.”

“I know.” I know I didn’t. But I wanted to. I wanted to do something.

Something totally out of character, something brave and stupid. Reckless.

And pointless.

Something that would make trying to talk to Snow seem easy by comparison.

I think I could get a dozen tattoos and it would still be easier than facing up to the fact that I’m pining over a boy I’ve never even met.  A boy who probably hates me. Because I’m the kind of prick who would go get a tattoo to win some unspoken competition.

I’m such an idiot.

Ebb takes a photo of my tattoo. The local news has taken this story up and it’s doing wonders for publicity for the cafe. This will only fuel that, especially if it’s on the Watford social media pages.

“You’re alright with me posting this, Baz?”

I nod. “Just tag me in it, Ebb.” I give her a smirk, even though my heart’s racing wildly now and I’m truly starting to regret how impetuous I was a few hours ago.

But that’s what I do. I smirk and put on a mask of indifference because it’s safer that way. People won’t know how I really feel if I hide it.

I don’t know how I feel right now.

Agitated. Exhilarated.

Really fucking sore.

“Simon will be fit to burst,” Ebb says. “I don’t know what he’ll think to try next.” She shakes her head as she laughs.

Next? She really thinks Snow will try to top this?

I’m doomed. Tapped out. I’ve got nothing else.

I keep my head up as I walk out of the cafe and take the stairs to my flat. I really don’t know what lunacy possessed me. I can’t even use the excuse that it was a spur of the moment decision. I thought of it when I saw those ridiculous t shirts of Snow’s. Actually, my first thought was to wonder what Snow’s face would look like as a tattoo. I’m disturbed, ask anyone.

But that deviant thought gave me the idea to do the logo. It took a few hours to get a good, clean version of it. And then a day to find a reputable tattoo place to do it.

I take paracetamol to help with the sting from the tattoo and gingerly sit on the sofa. I don’t know what possessed me to get it along my rib cage. Probably the thought that no one could see it there and I wouldn’t have to make any awkward excuses to my father or my aunt Fiona about it that way.

No one can see it where it is, unless I specifically let them. Which--other than Ebb, for proof--I’m not about to do.

I try to read but the throbbing on my side keeps me from focusing.

I get a notification that Ebb’s posted the photo on the Watford instagram page.

It’s getting a healthy amount of likes.

A message comes in as I’m scrolling down. From @simonsnowscone.

It has to be him. Who else would have such a ridiculous instagram username? It’s precious and adorable and I’m terrified to read the message.

I click on it.

“Well played, you wanker. Made me think you actually got a tattoo for a minute. I’ll not believe it until I see it for myself. If it’s real, then I’ll admit you’ve won, with full honors. Meet me at Watford at 4.”

The insufferable muppet. Did he really think I’d fake something like this? I’m a Pitch. We don’t do half measures.

I check the time. It’s almost four now.

I’m off the sofa in an instant, wincing at the pull of skin at the tattoo site.

The cafe is just downstairs but I’ve no intention of being late.

I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll be damned if I’m going to take my shirt off in the middle of a public space just so SImon Snow can assure himself that my tattoo is real.

The thought of Simon Snow ogling my tattoo is disturbingly alluring however. Get a grip, Pitch.

I trot down the stairs but slow my pace before heading into the cafe. I smooth my hair, adjust my sleeves and then go in the back entrance, so I can see Snow before he can spot me.

I scan the cafe. There are a few people seated at tables and queued up at the counter. No sign of Snow. His usual booth at the front is empty.

I briefly consider taking a seat there, to wait for him. But that would reveal far too much. I can’t have Snow realize I’m so familiar with his patterns.

I decide to take my usual seat instead, at the back. It’s easy to see the front door and Snow’s booth from there, but it’s fairly well camouflaged. Few people choose to sit back there so it should be free at this time of day.

It’s not. My usual seat is occupied.

By Snow.

He stands when he sees me, almost upsetting his chair. I’m taller than he is. He has to tilt his head up a bit to meet my eyes. I can tell he doesn’t like that by the way he juts his chin out.

“Baz.” It’s not a question.

“Snow.”

We’re both still standing. This is going to be as bloody awkward as I anticipated. I wave my hand in Snow’s direction and take a seat. I can’t help but wince as the skin stretches over my tattoo.

Snow sits across from me, his eyes fixed on my face.

“So.” I’m a complete disaster. I can’t think of what to say.

“So.” Snow crosses his arms and leans his elbows on the table.

“You’re the one who asked to meet.” My tone is far more irritable than I intend. I knew I would fuck this up.

I should never have agreed to come here. He’s across the table from me and all I want to do is drink in the sight of him. Instead I’m practically snarling at him.

He tilts his head to the side. “I did.” His eyes haven’t left mine. “I wanted to know if you’d really done it or were taking the piss with that instagram post.”

“I don’t lie, if that’s what you’re intimating.”

Christ, I’ve wanted this for so long but I can’t seem to keep myself from being an absolute tit about it.

It’s who I am.

This is pointless. All I’ve managed with my little stunt this week is to well and truly piss Snow off. I’ve finally got his attention but it’s negative attention, as if I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum

This has been one of my worst ideas. This entire endeavour.

“Prove it then.” Snow’s words interrupt my spiralling thoughts.  

“What?”

“Show me the tattoo.”

Fucking hell.

There is no way I’m doing this, as tempting as it may be.           “I’m telling you, Snow, it’s for real. I wouldn’t kid about it. Fucking hurts like hell.” Why did I admit that?

I’m a constant disappointment to myself, that’s why.

It’s difficult to maintain eye contact with Snow but I force myself to do it, keep my chin held high.

I’m surprised at the flash of concern on his face.

And even more surprised when his hand reaches across the table towards me. He pulls it back before it makes contact with my wrist and I’m consumed with regret.

“Why’d you do it, then?” Snow asks.

Which part?

This meeting? The tattoo? That first photograph?  

All of it?

I give the only answer I can. “I play to win.”

Even though it feels like I do nothing but lose . . .

Snow huffs a laugh. “You’ve won with the tattoo then. I’ve got nothing to top that.”

“I didn’t think it would be so easy to win.”

I don’t know why I insist on being so contrary.“You’re made of trouble, Basil.” That’s what Fiona always says.

Snow grins. “If it’s real, that is. I’ve not got confirmation of that.”

“I just told you it was.”

“Can’t take your word for it, can I? I don’t know you at all. Can’t just go around trusting strangers.” Snow leans back, arms still crossed. He’s smirking now.

“Ask Ebb. She took the photo.”

“Hmm. Seeing is believing. I think I’d rather you convince me yourself.”

My mouth is dry. He’s a fucking glorious sight--all tumbled curls, broad shoulders, square jaw. He’s making my heart race, the beat of it thumping in my chest.

“I’m not taking my shirt off in the middle of a cafe, Snow.”

“Is there someplace you’d prefer to do it, then?”

Fucking hell. Does he have any idea how suggestive that sounds?

Simon

Bloody hell. I can’t believe I just said that.

I didn’t mean it to sound so . . . so . . . well so suggestive.

I can feel the heat wash over my face. I’m completely bollocksing this up.

I’d just intended to confirm the tattoo. I’m fairly certain it’s real but for some reason I really needed to see it for myself. I’m not going to think too hard about why.

Okay, I can admit it. I really just wanted to see him.

Confirming if the tattoo is real was just an excuse to meet him.

Although I can’t say I’m not looking forward to seeing it in the flesh, as it were.

Shit, it’s all I’ve been thinking about since I saw the photo.

If it is real, then I’ll concede he’s won.

And I’ll have to figure out a way to get him to meet me again.

If it’s not real . . . well, then I’ve no objection to keeping our little competition going.

Just maybe with a bit of a twist.

I don’t know what I’m thinking.

All I know is that I’ve been staring at his face for days now. I feel I know every inch of it.

The real thing is so much better than the photograph, though.

The way his hair shines. How it falls in waves that frame his face. I wonder what it feels like.  

It looks soft.

Baz has flecks of silver in his eyes. They look grey in the photo but they’re green and blue and silver. Like the sky and the sea at dusk.

He’s blushing now. Probably because of what I said. I can’t regret it though. Not if it made him look like this.

I made him look like this.

I like that. I like it a lot.

I like all of this.

I like looking at Baz, it seems. I can’t seem to get enough of it.

I’ve tried not to think about it.

But that didn’t stop me from staring at that photo.

It’s not stopping me from staring at him now.

I suppose I should say something. I don’t know what to say.

I don’t want to scare him away.

I want him to stay.

I don’t know when I started thinking that way.

But I don’t want to stop.

I don’t want this to be the end.

I think. . . I think I might want this to be a beginning.

Baz

Snow has the decency to look embarrassed. His face flushes and that hint of color goes all the way up to his ears, which I find completely irresistible.

I find him irresistible.

He’s even more brilliant close up.

I can count his moles and freckles when he’s so near. They trail a pattern across his face, a constellation unique to him.

I want to trace them with my finger. I want to brush my lips against each one.

I am so fucking gone for this boy.

It’s pathetic, really.

I need to say something. The silence between us is growing awkward, both of us red-faced and restless.

And because I’m weak, because I’m a constant disappointment to myself, I let myself say it.

“Alright, then. If you’re so bloody determined to see.” I stand up slowly and step away from my chair.

I’ll just pull my shirt up a bit, let him get a quick peek, and then I’ll spontaneously combust and be put out of my misery forever. Seems a solid plan.

Snow stands so quickly he does knock over his chair this time. It makes a loud clatter and I see people look in our direction.

Blast it. I’m not pulling my shirt up for an audience.

Well, perhaps for an audience of one.

But not for the entire afternoon crowd at Watford.

Snow reaches a hand in my direction. “No, Baz, sorry. I’m. . . I’m sorry.  I was being a bit of a prick.” He pulls his hand back to run it through his hair instead, messing with his curls, before dropping it to rub at the back of his neck. “Uh . . it’s alright. If you say it’s real, then I believe you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It’s real, Snow.”

He nods. “Alright then.”

We stare at each other for another moment. This is it, then. I’ve met Snow. I’ve finally gotten a tantalizing glimpse of him close up.

And that’s it. It’s over.

He’ll probably nod at me if we’re ever in the cafe at the same time. Give me a curt ‘hello’ if our paths cross on campus. No more than that.

I’ll be the odd fellow who one-upped him at his favorite cafe once.

I can at least be civil, in my last interaction with him.

I put my hand out. “Well played, Snow. I think if nothing else you’ll be Watford’s most recognizable customer.”

He takes my hand instantly, surprising me with the intensity of his grip. He shakes it, up and down, but he doesn’t let go. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Baz? Since you won?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Yes, please buy me a cup of coffee, Snow. Anything to keep you close for a few moments more.

“Well, it’s not like Watford’s going to give you anything for being their number one customer.” He’s still gripping my hand.  “So let me buy you a congratulatory cup, yeah?” Snow’s flushed, eyes wide, with such an earnest expression on his face.

It’s almost as if he wants to do this.

So I let him.

Simon

“You want a what?” I didn’t quite catch what Baz just ordered.

“A pumpkin mocha breve. It’s my own creation.”

“It’s like a candy bar in coffee form.” Penny interjects. Her eyes are darting back and forth between me and Baz, her forehead creased in suspicion. “Your usual, Simon?”

I’m feeling a bit bold and reckless. “I’ll have what Baz is having.”

Penny frowns. “Mr. Flat White wants a pumpkin mocha breve? Are you serious, Simon?”

“May as well see what the fuss is.”

She leans forward, looking at me over the top of her glasses. “Are you two done, then? With this best customer nonsense?”

I catch Baz’s eye. He smiles. I’ve not seen him smile before.

It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Let’s just say it’s a truce, Bunce. That sound alright, Snow?”

It sounds more than alright.

Three weeks later

Baz

I meet Snow at Watford after class. He’s where he always is, in the front booth, laptop open amidst a scattering of notes, his empty coffee cup at the edge of the table.

I’ve got two freshly made pumpkin mocha breves, one for each of us.

He looks frazzled. His hair is sticking up in tufts, so he’s been pulling at it in frustration, that much is clear. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes look puffy. Didn’t get much sleep last night, then.

But his mouth stretches into a grin at the sight of me and it’s the sun breaking through clouds.

I drop a quick kiss on his curls before I slide into the seat across from him.

“How was your day, Snow?”

I stretch my hand across the table and he takes it, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

“Better now that you’re here and bringing me fresh coffee.” He rakes his free hand through his hair, disheveling it further.  “I was up half the night writing the damn thing, but I’m doing the final edits now. I’ll get it sent off before four.” His fingers slide between mine. “You alright, Baz?”

I nod back. “Fine. I've got a bit of reading to do tonight.” I squeeze his hand. “Should we get a curry when you’re done here?”

His eyes light up. There is nothing that delights him as much as food, I’ve discovered.

I’ve learned some things about Snow over the past few weeks.

How much he loves to eat is one of them.

He’s a Liverpool fanatic, which would be unforgivable in anyone else but strangely endearing in him.

He grew up in the care system. He’s been on his own since he was sixteen

Every day is a discovery with Snow.

We ended up spending about an hour together, that first coffee we shared at Watford.

One coffee date led to two.

Two led to three, and then we were meeting there every morning to walk to campus together.I started meeting Snow here every day after class.

At the end of the second week Snow took my hand as we walked.

He kissed me for the first time last week. Caught me by the waist before I started up the stairs to my flat. Just a quick brush of lips. Then he’d grinned and said goodnight, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Last night he’d kissed me soft and slow, at the bottom of my stairs again, his hand rubbing circles on my stomach, fingers slipping between the buttons of my shirt.

I’d thought about asking him to come up. I’d thought about what that would be like.

I’d thought about it for too long.

Snow had pulled back, resting his hands on my hips. “I like you, Baz,” he had said. “I like you a lot.”

I’d put my hands on his shoulders and pressed our foreheads together. “I like you, Snow.” It had been a whisper, a breath between us.

He had smiled. “You can call me Simon, you know.”

I’d raised an eyebrow at him and he’d laughed, the numpty. I almost asked him to come up then.

Snow had pulled me close and kissed me again, lips sliding over mine, tongues gliding together, his fingers digging into my hip bones. It took my breath away.

He’d pulled back with a sigh that time. “Bloody hell. I wish I didn’t have this paper to finish tonight, Baz.” He’d looked contrite, regretful.

I’d reached up and swept the curls off his forehead, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Not to worry, Snow. I’ve got to revise for an exam tomorrow.” I’d pressed a kiss to his temple.

“See you in the morning, yeah?”

And then he’d left.

Leaving me far less eager to revise for my examination and far more determined that I wouldn’t let our night end at the stairs again next time.

Simon

My blasted paper is finished and sent off. I’m glad Baz suggested we get a curry. I’m famished.

There’s a place just a few blocks away. We’ve eaten there before. My mouth is watering at the thought of samosas and lamb biryani.

I pack up my laptop and Baz clears the rubbish from the table.

I take his hand as soon as we get outside. His fingers are cold so I lace them with mine and tuck both our hands in my jacket pocket. Baz moves closer as a result and I like that even more.

We get in the queue at the restaurant and Baz surprises me by telling the cashier to put our order in as a ‘to go’.

I can feel my pulse speed up. That can only mean one thing. We’re taking the food back to his place.

I’ve not been to his flat yet.

I mean, we’ve only been seeing each other for a little over three weeks and I couldn't even muster up the courage to kiss him until a few days ago.

I liked it. I like kissing Baz.

Once we’re outside Baz darts a glance at me and his cheeks turn color. “I thought it might be quieter at my place.” He clears his throat. “To eat, I mean.”

“Oh, right, great.”

We’re each carrying a bag so I take Baz’s free hand in mine again.

He lets go when we get to the stairs and hurries up, unlocking the door to his flat before I reach the top. There’s just one small hallway, only two flats up here it seems. Baz’s is on the left.

It’s larger than I expected for a uni student. I know Baz’s family owns the building. He told me that a few days after we met, when he told me where he lived.

I still can’t believe he lives right over the cafe and I’d never seen him before our whole feud. I’d not have forgotten that face.

Fuck. If I’m at his flat that means I probably should have him ‘round to my place sometime.

Mine’s smaller, older, messier.

Baz’s flat is all sleek furniture and clean tabletops.

Mine’s got a lumpy sofa, an even lumpier bed, two rickety bookshelves, and stacks of books and papers on every flat surface.

It also has a framed photograph of Baz on top of my shelves. Bloody hell, I need to remember to hide that away before I have him over.

I’ll never live that down.

I’m not going to throw it away, though, that’s for damn sure.

Baz

Having Snow here is awkward so I’m grateful we stopped for food. It gives us something to do and something to talk about. I’m not in the habit of having people over to my flat.

Other than Dev and Niall but they don’t really count as people. Dev’s related to me and Niall’s been my friend since primary school.

Having Snow here is different. He’s not people either. He’s my boyfriend, I suppose, although we’ve not come out and said it in so many words.

Is he my boyfriend?

I’ve seen him every day for the past three weeks (he texts me before he goes to sleep each night).

He’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up (he’s my last thought before I fall asleep).

He’s someone I’m snogging (I want to do more than snog).

He’s shoveling in the lamb biryani and I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

I should probably ask. If this counts as being boyfriends. I think it does.

I’d like to be Snow’s boyfriend.

I don’t know how to do this.

I’ve never actually had a boyfriend.

I’ve snogged people, of course, but nothing that really qualifies as a relationship.

Three weeks qualifies as a relationship, doesn’t it?

Christ, I’m going to have to ask him.

Simon

There isn’t much to clean up. I finished the samosas and biryani too. I put the rubbish in the bin while Baz does the washing up.

It’s right domestic, it is.

It’s been three weeks but it feels like no time at all and longer than that too. It’s hard to explain.

Everything is new but it’s comfortable. Familiar, which doesn’t make sense.

Maybe that’s not the right word.

Easy. Natural. That’s what I mean.

Like I didn’t have to think too hard about taking Baz’s hand that first time. I just did it when it felt right.

When I kissed him, he kissed me back.

Like we fit. Like we matched.

I think Baz is nervous. He’s wiping the table down for the third time, even though there’s not a speck of rice on it.

I don’t want him to be nervous about me being in his space. I don’t want him to think I expect anything.

I don’t.

I just want to be with him.

Well, I mean, I’d like to snog him

I’d like to do more than snog him, but that can wait.

We’ve got time.

Three weeks of dating isn’t all that long. I’m good with taking things slow.

It gives me time to figure out how to be a good boyfriend.

Am I Baz’s boyfriend? I haven’t asked him, have I?

I asked Agatha, asked her if she’d be my girlfriend, when we were dating.

We’re better as friends than we ever were when we were dating. I never knew if I was doing the right thing, if I was saying the right thing, with her. I didn’t know how to be a good boyfriend so I ended up being a terrible one.

I want to be Baz’s boyfriend.

But what I really want right now is for Baz to stop cleaning the kitchen and let me kiss him.

Baz

I’m pathetic.

I’m wiping down the kitchen counter again. I’m stalling. I’m being an absolute tit. I want to ask Snow to sit on the sofa with me but I don’t want to sound like I want to get him on the sofa just so I can snog him senseless.

Which is absolutely what I want to do. Snog him senseless.

Christ, I am terrible at this.

I rinse the washrag and set in on the rack to dry.

I can ask him if he wants to watch television. Then I won’t seem so eager (I’m eager).

“You want to watch something, Simon?” I’m endeavouring to call him Simon. He told me he likes it when I do.

I’ve been thinking of him as Snow for all this time so it seems odd to call him Simon.

I like it. It feels more intimate.

Fuck. Now I’ve made myself blush.

Simon

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Baz has finally stopped mucking about in the kitchen but he still looks like he’s thinking too hard. His brow is furrowed and his face just flushed after he asked if I wanted to watch television.

I want to smooth that crease away. I want to tell him it’s alright. That whatever he wants is alright with me.

I take his hand instead.

Baz

Snow--no, Simon--takes my hand and it grounds me. It’s familiar and warm and I squeeze his hand as I walk him into the den. I take up the remote and we sit on the sofa, still hand in hand, legs barely brushing against each other.

I flip through the channels, finally landing on a documentary about penguins. I recognize David Attenborough’s voice. It’s soothing.

Simon’s rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand and that’s soothing too.

He shifts and then we’re pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. I lift our hands up and rest them on my thigh. I can feel the heat of him through my jeans.

I feel the weight of Simon’s head come to rest on my shoulder and it feels like everything is falling into place. Like we fit.

I turn my head and brush a kiss into his hair.

He nuzzles his face into my neck.

I could get used to this.

“Baz.”

“Yes, Simon?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You may.”

He huffs and I can feel his breath on my collarbone. It’s warm but it still makes a shiver run through me.

“I like this.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Shut up. I’m getting to it, you prat.” His tone is gentle, amused. “I like this,” he says again.

“I like this too.”

“So . . . ah . . . this then.” His fingers squeeze mine. “Would you be ok with me calling you my boyfriend?”

My breath catches. More than ok, I think. But I don’t say it. I tighten my grip on his hand. “If you’re ok with me calling you mine,” I say instead.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright, then."

“I’m not very good at it, Baz.”

“Not very good at what?”

“At being a boyfriend. I’m sure to muck it up somehow, without meaning to. Just so you know.”

“I’m sure to be worse.” Confession time. “I’ve not had any experience at being someone’s boyfriend so I’m far more likely to be the one mucking it up.”

“We can figure it out together.”

The penguins are forming a huddle on the screen. I can hear Attenborough’s voice but I’m not really listening to the words. I can feel Simon’s breath against my neck.

“Baz.”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The word is out of my mouth before I can think it through. “Please.”

That’s all it takes. Simon tilts his head and his lips come to rest against my skin, traveling from my collarbone up to my jawline. I drop my head back and then turn towards him. He lifts his head and our eyes meet.

And then his lips crash into mine and it’s nothing like the soft, slow kisses we had on the stairs last night.

This is urgent, heated, ravenous.

It’s perfect.

Simon’s mouth is hot. He shifts his hips, turns towards me and now we’re facing each other, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks, mine grasping his shoulders.

I want him closer. I pull his shoulders to me, just as he pushes his face into mine, doing that thing he does with his chin. It feels so good. I lean back, slowly sliding down the sofa, until I’m lying on my back, Simon on top of me.

I shift my legs and Simon is lying between them, his chest resting on mine, the warm weight of him pressing down on me, his hands sliding up and down my sides. I’ve got my hands in his hair, my fingers sinking into his coarse curls.

We pause for breath, mouthing each other’s lips an instant later, hands roaming over chests, arms, hips. Simon slips his fingers between the buttons of my shirt, the heat of his fingers making me tremble at his touch.

I’ve got my hands splayed against the muscles of his back, catching on the fabric of his shirt. I pull his shirt out of his jeans and bring my hands to rest against his skin—warm, firm, smooth.

Simon growls and buries his face in my neck, his breath heavy as he presses open mouthed kisses in a heated trail from my jaw to my pulse point.

I run my fingers along his spine, feather light, ghosting the tips along his skin. I feel a shiver run through him at my touch.

His hands find my waist and he pulls my shirt out of my trousers, sliding the fabric up until my abdomen is exposed. He pulls back, resting on his forearms, to look down at me.

Simon’s pupils are wide, his face flushed. “Is this alright?”

I run my hand up his chest, bringing it to rest behind his neck. “It’s perfect,” I say, before I draw him to me again, reaching up to bring my mouth to his.

His hands slide under my shirt, along my sides, pressing into my skin.

His kisses are slower now, his tongue languorously sliding against my own, the taste of him becoming so familiar. His hand slides up between us, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, pressing kisses to my lips as my shirt falls open, inch by inch.

He scoots down, his heated breath lingering over my collarbone, then down the middle of my chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my ribs.

And then he stops, pulls back, brings his fingers along my side, to trace a pattern over my skin--gently, reverently.

I know what he’s tracing.

It’s the Watford tattoo.

The one he hasn’t seen until now.

Simon

It’s there, just like it was in the photo Ebb took. It’s not red anymore, the skin smooth, the purple vibrant, the edges of the crest sharp and distinct.

I trace my index finger over the design, barely skimming Baz’s skin. I hear his intake of breath and pull my hand away as my eyes dart up to his face. “Does it still hurt?”

Baz’s pupils are wide and black, his hair in tumbled waves framing his face, lips plush and full. He shakes his head and breathes out his answer. “No, not anymore.”

He’s so fucking beautiful. I don’t know how I ever could have thought differently.

I hover my finger over the tattoo once more. “May I?”

He takes in another breath and lets it out slowly, eyes closing. His lips curve up into a smile, somehow fond and amused at once. “You may.”

I trace the outline again, my finger brushing gently against his skin.

I think about my flyer. I think of Baz seeing it. Of his response.

I think of every chance, every decision, the interplay that brought us here, to this place, to this moment.

I bring my head down until my lips hover over that spot. The last piece of the puzzle that created me and Baz. I let my breath ghost over his skin.

A ripple runs through his flesh as I touch my lips to the crest, trace the design of it with the tip of my tongue, taste the salt on Baz’s skin. His fingers sink into my hair, scrape against my scalp, clench in my curls.

His breath catches and then he sighs.

Baz

My head falls back as Simon’s mouth presses against my skin, the sensation sending sparks trailing across my ribs.  

I’m trembling.

Simon lifts his head and I open my eyes to meet his. I let my fingers slip out of his hair.

He reaches for my hand, tightly laces our fingers together and brings my knuckles to his lips. Then he rests his head in the center of my chest, right over my heart, and tucks our linked hands under his chin.

It’s achingly tender.

I bring my other hand to rest on his back.

Simon

I can hear his heartbeat. It slows, moment by moment, until it’s a steady, comforting thump.

Slow and steady.

Just how I want us to be.

I could stay in this moment forever.

So I do.

Epilogue:

Penelope

Agatha sighs and shakes her head. “They’re at it again.”

My head snaps up from the latte I’m making. “What?"

“I’m sure Simon put it up.”

I finish the latte and call out for the customer then march myself over to the bulletin board.

And there is it. Right in the middle. Another full color selfie of Simon and Baz, printed on glossy paper. They’re all bright eyes and flushed cheeks, heads adorably tilted towards each other, Watford’s new holiday coffee cups in their hands.

They look utterly besotted with each other. Ridiculously happy, the both of them.

Below the photo is a caption:“Watford’s best customers!” in a painfully cheerful red font.

I roll my eyes and dig in my pocket for the Sharpie that I use to write people’s names on their coffee cups.

I put a line through “best” and print “most annoying” in block letters in its place.

There. That’s more accurate.

Simon and Baz are at the counter when I return, all smiles and adoring looks. Agatha has made herself scarce. I can’t blame her. These two were a menace when they were feuding.

They’re worse now with the constant flirting.

I’ve not seen Baz look this happy in a long time.

I’ve never seen Simon this settled.

I doubt either of them will give me any credit for this. As if I hadn’t been trying to introduce them to each other for months.

“Stop flirting, you two and give me your order.”

“We’re not flirting, Penny. We weren’t even saying anything.”  Simon is holding Baz’s hand and they’re practically joined at the hip, they’re standing so close together.

“You don’t have to say anything. You may as well have anime hearts in your eyes, you sap.”

Baz grins and leans towards me to order. “Two gingerbread lattes, Bunce.”

I hustle off to make their coffees so I don’t have to watch them be adorable together. It’s as sickly sweet as their order.

It doesn’t stop me from putting matching foam hearts on their drinks though.

“Here you go, you menaces. Now go flirt somewhere else.”

I see Baz smile as he looks at his drink. He gives me a nod and I can’t help but smile back.

“You forgot to charge us, Penny.” Simon’s got his wallet out.

I shake my head. “It’s customer appreciation day.” He scrunches up his face. “I thought Watford didn’t have those.”

“I made it up. You finally have your free coffee, Simon.” I lean across the counter and look at him over the top of my glasses. “Now for the love of God, stop putting selfies of you and Baz on the bulletin board.” I make a shooing motion with my hand. “Shove off, you two. I’m getting a toothache just from looking at you.”

I’m lying. I’ve got a warm feeling in my chest at the sight of them.

But I’m not about to tell them.

(and here’s the photo of Baz that Simon saw posted on the Watford Cafe Instagram--my thanks to @vkelleyart​ for helping me photoshop the tattoo)

(this fic idea is based on a real life cafe feud in Australia that was in the news--but did not have the romantic end that this does)

[ins0mnia-an0nym0us-au]

re: getting told i have borderline nazi-ideology

I very recently had an interesting experience that I wanted to share.

I use Discord, a communication program that’s main purpose is an instant messaging feature, you can create a server, which can have multiple “rooms” in it for different topics of conversation. It also has various other features, like voice chatting, video-calling, screen-sharing, etc. 

There are lots of uses for it but mainly I use it just to hang out with people. Recently, I started branching out and joining different ‘fandom’ discord servers. I first joined an Arrowverse server, then just a server for people who ship a certain couple on one of the tv shows. 

But then I binged all of Agents of Shield and I wanted to find somewhere to talk about it, make some friends. So I joined a server and it started off pretty great. Everyone was very kind. We all love Marvel and Agents of Shield. 

Here’s where it turns into an experience (SPOILERS FOR AGENTS OF SHIELD) -

In Agents of Shield and the Marvel Universe in general, there is an organization called Hydra, which was founded by Nazis. Agents of Shield deals with Hydra a lot and one of the main cast members turns out to be a member of Hydra hidden within Shield. The actor Brett Dalton seems like an absolute sweetheart, I’ve actually seen him in person at Dragon-Con a few times and he’s one of those actors that refuses to sit behind his table, he stands in front of it to talk to his fans, give hugs, handshakes, etc.

People were talking about how apparently because of him being a Hydra member in the show and saying things like ‘Hail Hydra’ with fans or maybe even randomly (I’m not sure the context of that - if someone asked him to say it with them or whatever), that people cancelled him and that’s why he only does Hallmark movies now. Which is something I find ridiculous for a few reasons. 

Brett Dalton is an actor. He is given a role and he plays it. If that is a good guy or bad guy, it doesn’t matter, he reads the lines and acts the part. The fact that people ask him to repeat lines or certain lines get more famous than others is not his fault. 

This brought into question why certain people would even have ‘Hail Hydra’ as a favorite line. Which was incredibly stupid of a question in my opinion. 

Hydra is an iconic enemy organization within the Marvel Universe

‘Hail Hydra’ is a quick and easy line to say vs longer quotes

It comes from many iconic scenes in the franchise itself - both within comics & the cinematic universe

Then they questioned why anyone would be a fan of Hydra at all when it’s a Nazi run organization - a fictional, Nazi run organization. I pointed that out and they scoffed at that and said it doesn’t matter. So instead I tried the following reasons -

Some people just love to root for the bad guy - no matter how bad

Favorite actors/actresses play the villains

It’s ‘edgey’ to root for the bad guys

In the end they didn’t buy any of that as good enough reasoning and said that deep down every person who was a fan of Hydra must secretly be a Nazi or Nazi sympathizer and that even if Brett Dalton was a nice guy, he shouldn’t go around saying ‘Hail Hydra’ because some Jewish people have stated it makes them uncomfortable. 

Listen, if something makes you uncomfortable, you have the right to say that it does and if it is a good enough reason then maybe that person will change what they are doing, hell, maybe everyone else will agree with you. But I find this entire thing incredibly stupid. If you watch anything from Marvel and expect not to run into something referencing Hydra then you are either naive or incredibly foolish. If Hydra triggers you, if Nazism triggers you, just stay away from Marvel.

“But we should make Marvel available for everyone!”

No, we can’t make everything available for everyone. That is literally impossible. Should some Marvel content have less Nazi references in it for those triggered by it? Sure, I’m sure there is something out there for them. 

But this isn’t even the end of this experience I had on this server. I thought we ended this conversation on good terms. But I’ll never know if they were secretly reporting me to the server owner or not. The next bit is when I was given a ‘warning’ not to open my mouth again on my beliefs or I would be kicked from the server. 

It started when I saw people just saying things like “America is such shit” and “Yeah, America is such garbage” - even the Americans were saying this. Now I’m a proud American but I understand that the media is very influential, so I tried to be diplomatic in my approach. I entered by saying something like - “America definitely has its problems, that’s for sure, but so does every country - still, look how far we’ve come!”

Responses were not kind to that. They were insistent on just pointing out all the flaws in America. From apparently rampant racism, a fascist regime, terrible public education.

I once again tried to approach diplomatically. I simply said that there is racism everywhere, I don’t think I touched the fascist regime comment, and I agreed on the terrible public education comment. Which spiraled into a talk about our public education system. We all pretty much agreed that our public education system is shit… which I still don’t understand how someone can want more government when the government fucks everything they already run up. 

I’m not sure how it went from that to talking about being able to choose who to serve at your business. It’s hard to remember exactly. I just remember the whole Christian Baker thing being brought up but it turns out we were talking about two separate cases. 

They were talking about a case where a baker was contacted by a lesbian couple and that baker released their information to a hate website, later they sued the baker and won. Which - yeah, that baker deserved to be milked for every last dime. 

But I was talking about a baker that was contacted by a gay couple to make a ‘gay cake’ - this baker said no because it was against his religion, and even told them that he doesn’t make Halloween or Anti-American cakes but he’d happily make them other desserts. But they still sued him and originally the gay couple won but it was taken to the Supreme Court and the baker won the suit. I think it’s a good thing the baker won that case. 

No one should be able to tell you who you should or should not serve. If a gay baker is contacted by a homophobic person and is asked to make an anti-LGBTQ+ cake, they should have every right to say “no, I will not.” in the same way a Christian baker should have every right not to make a ‘gay cake’ or a cake covered in penises or an anti-Christ cake. 

Do I think it’s dumb not to make a cake for someone just because it’s gay? Yes. Take the business. In the same way I think if a gay person turns down someone just for being straight it’s dumb. But that is their right. 

But apparently because this is how I believe, I have borderline Nazi ideology and was told that if I didn’t keep my mouth shut when they spout off about politics, I would be kicked from the server. The message I received was laughable at best. All about making a ‘safe-space’ for members of the fandom from all ages, genders and orientations. 

How impressionable young people are around (a few sentences ago it was children - which, there are no children in this server, teenagers, they are teenagers) and that it may influence their minds and opinions in the future - as if their spouting off about how much they hate America and all of their political opinions won’t? The hypocrites. 

Then came the point in the message where I was basically called a Nazi. Which… really? I’m autistic, non-binary, lesbian, with several disabilities. The Nazis would have put me in the front of the line to be executed. The gall these people have to think that I could ever agree with Nazis or Nazism. I’ve been to the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC. I’ve watched unfiltered footage from WWII of the Concentration Camps and what they did to people like me. It’s disturbing to me how ignorant these people are of what Nazism actually is but mostly it’s sad because of how intolerant they are of anything but their own point of view.

The final bit of the message was about how I had treated people flippantly despite how they expressed their discomfort. Again - the gall of these fucking people. Not one person ever fucking said they were uncomfortable when we were talking. I would have stopped talking about politics immediately if one person spoke up. They just kept talking, kept responding to my messages, but instead they went and tattled on me to the server owner. 

So, instead of staying in a server where I was told to just sit down and shut up, I messaged the owner back and told them exactly what I just told all of you. I also told them that they are exactly what is wrong with everyone today, why everyone is so divided and why no one talks to each other anymore. That going through life being unable to hear opposing opinions when they don’t do you any harm is a sad way to live. That it did make me sad that they had just assumed the worst in me because I did enjoy my time there, I even spent a solid month editing a photo as a Christmas gift to the server.

I apologized for making anyone uncomfortable but also told them that no one ever said anything. Then told them I won’t apologize for anything else and that I wouldn’t bother sticking around. Why would I? Everyone had been secretly talking about me it seems. No one had the same opinions as me and no one wanted to hear them. What was the point? So I just left the server. 

Being autistic makes it so hard to understand social queues in real life, doing so online is pretty much impossible unless you use emojis that have certain connotations linked to them. I generally have to take people at face value of what they are saying. If no one says that they are uncomfortable - I assume they aren’t. If no one tells me that I’m breaking a rule or doing something wrong, why would I assume differently? Mostly though it hurt me that they all just sat there and decided that I was pretty much a Nazi when I’d been nothing but nice to them. I thought we were becoming friends, some of us anyway. 

It just proves that once more, the crowd of ‘tolerance’ is the least tolerable. Now I have no Agents of Shield server and I miss my almost friends. 

[hoedameron]

hey y’all!! new gifset means a post of me blabbering about what happened behind the scenes <33

to start off, let’s talk about the above gifs. y’all, i had TWENTY EIGHT (28) CLIPS TO MAKE GIFS OF 😳 now, that is by far the MOST i have had for any show i’ve ever giffed (it’s the mint tall illness xx) so there was a lot to consider. i knew i wanted some key scenes to be made (edrisa drinking that four loko, fire consuming sarah, and the eyeball) so i worked myself around those. there are other scenes that i wanted to gif but just...couldn’t fit them all and may be used for future gifs (if i get inspired). these two above were made to be in the original gifset but ultimiately got cut because: 

the ainsley gif has very few frames and moved too fast for my liking despite it being at 5 speed like the rest of them. typically i don’t like really short gifs with less than 35 frames but sometimes i do make exceptions (like my gifset for 2x02) -was going to be a “warm” gif

 i LOVED this scene between malcolm and edrisa when she gets on the table because she is trying to come down from a caffeine high. when there is no brightwell content, i LOVE a good maldrisa scene <3 really wanted to include this one but i wasn’t too sure of the coloring :(( i felt that it was a bit too dark and i knew the other psd that i used (yes, i used two psds hehe) wouldn’t help much. so, ultimately, with a HEAVY heart, i had to drop it from the lineup -was going to be a “cool” gif

the blue and gold theme was by accident. i had gotten new psds to prepare for this week and one of the new ones amplified the blues of dark scenes (like the entirety of prodigal son) and really liked how it looked on the edrisa gif. then i started to see the pattern of the scenes i picked (cold, warm, cool, warm) and decided to run with it. like i said above, i did use two psds and the other psd is for warmer scenes that the main psd couldn’t really do them much justice. the three gifs with the other psd? you know my fave game :3c answer in the tags!

like i said before, there were a LOT of scenes i wanted to use. i spent like five hours on this set? that also includes small breaks like for lunch and bathroom breaks plus i had to give photoshop some downtime aka force quitting in task manager to give it some room to breathe because there was A LOT to go through. i didn’t want to do anything fancy so i went with my new favorite framing pero i added 1 px to the height (is that right? i forget). also, i am SOOO sorry for making it a long post but i think it was truly inevitable lol.

here are some scrapped scenes:

the crime scene of the dead former debutante. i promised y’all i wouldn’t gif these crime scenes and i almost broke that promise because the scene was soo interesting

malcolm on the tail of jt and the camera follows them as malcolm talks about candy. REALLY fun scene that i would’ve loved to gif but simply had no room on the roster :((

the gilessica scene <3 i wanted to put at least one of my fave pairings in there pero there were some other really good scenes i knew others would find more interesting

*there were other clips i saved that are self-indulgent and for me for future headers or sidebar gifs ;)

i wrote down four quotes, one spoken by gil and the rest were spoken by malcolm. i would’ve used the ainsley quote at the end about how she has a reason to be a bit reckless because it is a solid quote but i felt like it would be overused so i didn’t. i knew i should’ve bolded what sarah said to differentiate somebody else is talking pero like...this was my fourth? fifth reupload? because i kept messing up in the tags and wasn’t sure of the order plus there was a gif that didn’t look right so i had to go back and edit it again (i won’t tell u which one that is my secret shh). everything was kinda asjdksajkdlsa like it was getting closer to my deadline (ONCE AGAIN) so it was basically a mini crunch to get published and in the queue. 

PERO I AM SOO, SO, SOOOOO PROUD OF IT!! it’s really cool and has a lot of color to it!! i even went out of my comfort zone in terms of coloring. yes, warmth is my jam y’all know this but the other more intense blue coloring was a huge step. also, don’t look so closely at them because i know of at least one flaw and that particular gif looks better on mobile (surprisingly) pero desktop is like LOOK AT IT!! LOOK AT IT!!! anyways, every note is like a blessing, and i am always overwhelmed with joy and happiness whenever i read each tag !! :)

[izzy-b-hands]

15, 19, 22, 30!

Ayy sorry it took me a bit to answer these; thank you for asking!!

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

Anywhere lol. Sometimes places I don’t want to admit because they’re just weird or unexpected (for example, zoning out and staring at my own hand while tipsy for...I don’t even know. It was at least fifteen minutes. I’m not proud of it, but after I finally came back round I got the idea for a particularly saucy bit of smut between Ainsley and Eggsy...that is in a WIP I can’t seem to get finished, so may never be published, but I am trying, I swear!) 

Certain recurring ideas and themes in my original work come from stuff I spend probably too much time thinking about. My last original story that I posted on here, for example, came about because I was thinking about how I was starting to not feel well (and now here I am with what I am hoping are not actual COVID symptoms, and are just a summer cold or something) which led to me rewriting my will the night prior to writing the story, which then led to me going ‘man, I hate the idea of the Christian Heaven and Hell and it doesn’t mesh at all with what I actually belief despite it being what I was taught, but what if like the afterlife was a wasteland and you basically had to go explore it to make the afterlife into something you want? How fucked up would that be?’ Also I’ve been wanting to buy myself a nice suit and was craving an apple at the time, so I gave my characters suits and some apples. I’m a simple man, at times. 

19.  First line of a WIP you’re working on.

“This isn’t done to punish you, Eggsy.”

(I’m excited for this one, but I’m trying to write it and some Sledgefu and the rest of After the Afterlife, so it is...slow going, lol.) 

22.  How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

Ah. Yes. Well...I am, how you say, a bad writer, in this regard? 

I don’t draft, not really. Most of what I publish, I’d say a good 95% is first draft, published the day I started it with few minor edits (usually typos or me accidentallying a word and actually noticing it before I publish for once lol.) Any poetry you see from me? Almost definitely a first draft I banged out and tossed in my queue lmao. 

Even my WIPs that I have sitting will go out mostly in their original form, unless I decide to make a major change to the story. But otherwise, I don’t ever really sit and rewrite out the whole thing to see if I want to change it (and believe you me, if y’all potentially hate that fact,  my hs writing teacher hated finding it out even more, after not believing that this is my usual method of writing. I had to show her time stamps on my words docs before she believed it, and after that hounded me to start drafting properly. Sorry Dr. Werner, old and bad habits die hard, and in this case not much at all!) 

It might not hurt me to start doing it someday, but for now, my bad habit works for me lol. 

30.  Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Oh shoot. This one took a bit; I’ve got a few lines that I admit make me vainly go ‘oh that was nice, wasn’t it?’ 

However, I’m not organized so I don’t have them like...notated anywhere lol. So I had to do a bit of fic rereading to find them again and make sure whichever one I chose for this answer I would be quoting the right fic. 

That said, I decided to choose a recent one, from After the Afterlife Ch. 6: 

‘ Things wouldn’t be the same after this, but that was okay. They were going to be better. ‘

I wrote that when I was feeling pretty down about my own situation, but it gave me hope, and it still does. Because it applies to the story, but also to things in general. Things change, and they will continually, for the better and for the worse. But the belief that gets me through my days now is that there will always be better somewhere in it, even if the change itself is difficult. I didn’t gain that belief until the last few years, and it’s a work in progress to maintain hope like that. But I prefer it to what I have before, which is why I wanted to give it to Eggsy and crew in this fic as well. Hope can be as bitter as a lack of hope, but there’s just enough sweet notes in hope to make it taste better, if that makes sense. 

[sol1056]

let’s just leave this here

so let’s see how quickly I can get through a bunch of these, just so they don’t languish for the next month... here we go. behind the cut:  why the opening never changed, why DW is deploying Josh again, a few about Iverson & Hedrick, is a reboot possible, staying in fandom vs leaving... and some others in the same vein. 

why did they keep the same opening for all of vld seasons, considering the line-up was never supposed to come back to the original from s3?

Every indication is that originally, the team would return to the original lineup. Keeping the opening was probably meant to remind audiences of that inevitability. Or you could believe LM, who said the opening cost 20K to make, and thus was too expensive to do more than once. She’d rather spend that money on a vacation. 

So I've heard that Josh Keaton is doing damage control for S8. Do you think Dreamworks sent him in because they know that he's the one guy that no one can get mad at? After what some of the fans have done to him this past year [...] I’m amazed that he's willing to stick around and try to make his fans happy for as long as he can. I can see why people say "We don't deserve him."

Josh has somehow managed that sweet spot between charming the fandom and gaining its trust. Doesn’t hurt that he’s got the chops, voice-wise, to take written dross (no, really, some of those lines are horribly clunky) and spin it into gold. More than anything else, he comes across as genuine, and that adds a certain credibility to his words. 

But... Josh doesn’t really have a choice. Playing Shiro is what catapulted Josh upwards, and the last thing he can afford to do is piss off DW by refusing to play ball. He’d only be damaging himself (and his reputation among potential employers) if he didn’t snap to attention when called. Plus, I think he really does sincerely love the character, but it’s got to be a tough spot for him right now. 

When you get down to it, the only one on VLD’s (former) staff who seems to believe Shiro belongs in the story and should be respected as part of the story... is Josh. Who else can Shiro’s fans look to, if Josh stops speaking?

So, yeah, Josh is it. And I bet he knows that, and knows it’s just part of signing up for such a major role. This is part of his job. 

So I came across a pic of Mitch Iverson from SDCC 2018 where he and Tim Hedrick weren't in the panel ... and [Iverson] was wearing a SHIRO BLACK PALADIN top ... while the EPs & Hamilton were in the panel promoting S7, Iverson supported Hedrick & his story, and Shiro.

Hedrick was actively involved in every script as the story editor, and reportedly conceived of Shiro as an astronaut returning after his capture by aliens. Iverson got his start thanks to Hedrick, thus it makes sense that Iverson would be simpatico with Hedrick’s vision of the story. 

On top of that, by SDCC Iverson already had his next gig lined up. He continued to write for VLD, so he had to be subtle... but a t-shirt was a good way to make his sentiments clear. Can’t blame the guy, seeing he probably knew what was coming and chose a quiet protest of his own.

As an American, how would you take it if someone, that is, Iverson, called himself a redneck? From what I know thats derogatory term & for people not exactly inclusive & supportive of minorities. He also retweeted an art of Allura with a quote: ‘Laters’, which I found in really poor taste...

Redneck is another slur adopted by the in-group. My guess is that if you called Iverson a redneck to his face, he’d be offended. But if you introduced yourself as a redneck, and then called him one, it’d be different. And yes, as a term, redneck has a complex history, and it changes subtly in terms of how each generation defines/uses it. 

As for retweeting things in poor taste... eh, most people don’t have any training in social media. Jokes are the hardest; it’s so easy for them to go so wrong. Until VLD, I’d bet Iverson was lucky to have a few hundred followers. How many follow him now? It takes time to find your footing in striking the right balance of humor and dignity. 

Sometimes the best course is to ignore the stumble. They’ll either learn, or they won’t. Either way, it’s their problem, not ours. 

Will Tim Hedrick be allowed to continue the voltron universe the way he planned it?  

I doubt it. He’s got a new project. If you’re now an EP finally getting your name at the top, would you really want to go back and fix someone else’s story? Sometimes it’s just better to leave it behind, and make sure the next thing you do is something you can have pride in.

...why do you keep saying the last episode Tim Hedrick wrote was The Feud? A lot of people keep repeating it, like it was his last 'fuck you' to the showrunners. But official sources all say 'The Journey Within' was his last episode.

All we can say for certain was that tJW is the last Hedrick episode broadcast. That doesn’t mean it was the last one written. 

Here’s why a lot of us peg tF as Hedrick’s last written episode: the story editor credit. Hedrick's the sole story editor on all his other episodes; tF is the only one in which both Hedrick and Hamilton share credit. The simplest explanation is this episode was edited in that window during which Hedrick had one foot out the door, and Hamilton had one foot in. iow, Hedrick put it into the queue, edited half, and moved on. Ergo, last written.

I can’t believe how they just managed to anger literally everyone no matter your favorite character or ship.

I recall a quote from early on, where LM said they had a feeling they couldn’t please everyone. The problem (which I noted at the time, and has remained true) is that the answer isn’t to just piss off everyone. 

It’s to figure out who you want your audience to be, and to write the best damn story you can for that particular audience. If you end up with a story only old-timer DotU fans love, and kids are lukewarm about, fine. If the reverse is true, fine. You can’t please everyone, especially in a reboot/remake. So you pick your battles, and write your story accordingly. 

Looking around social media, most people I'm seeing are either rightfully upset, or they're hyperfocusing on the one single scene they liked because they just don't have the energy to deal with the show's bullshit right now. How can they fuck up the last season so badly that it seems like the general reaction is disappointment and denial?

I think there’s a common cause for the fandom reactions: exhaustion. 

In American broadcast television, a 26-episode season runs from September to May, then a summertime lull, during which people digest and discuss. Binge-watching is changing this, but it seems one thing hasn’t changed: no matter how fast we watch a show, we still require processing time. 

What did we get? A half-season, two months’ break, another half-season, two months’ break, a full season, three months’ break, and a final full season. If every season had provoked a spike equal to S1/S2, we might’ve been begging DW by June to just freaking chill. Fandom had barely begun to process one season and a new one was already landing on our heads. 

On top of that, S3-S6 weren’t exactly walks in the part, post-release. In terms of controversy, S7 dwarfed them all. That made an awful lot of people (across the entire spectrum, from almost every sub-group in the fandom) disengage. Those who remained dialed back on their expectations (”as long as X happens, that’s all that matters”), or they hung in there, insistent it would turn out alright. 

So either you’re exhausted from not being able to fully disengage with the final season still in the wings, you’re exhausted from convincing yourself this one specific thing would be enough, or you’re exhausted from defending what turned out to be indefensible. 

Frankly, disappointment and denial is a fairly soft landing, compared to what might’ve been. But any way you cut it, the fandom’s worn the hell out.   

Do you think LM and JDS are gonna address this or are they just going to ignore the complaints, wash their hands and move on?

They don’t need to do anything. They don’t work for DW anymore. If someone has to address the complaints, it’d be DW or DW’s chosen spokesperson. I guess you could call that washing their hands, but the simple fact is they’re not on the payroll. They’re not responsible for VLD anymore.

do you think it's possible for dreamworks to rewrite season 8? i've never heard of a show doing that before and i'm afraid that we'll be stuck with what we got, but damn, i really hope that we will get to see the characters get the endings they deserve, if nothing else.

I’m not sure why anyone would bother. S7 was rife with problems; S3-S6 meandered back and forth. If I were to do a soft in-series reboot, I’d go back to the end of S2. That’s the clearest break, story-wise. 

But if you’re going backwards 50+ episodes to the 26th, just keep going and start over. More to the point: not a lot of creators would sign on to inherit problems not of their own making. Same reason new directors on a property will want to rework the script in some way (if not start over from scratch). 

Do you think this is truly the end of Voltron: Legendary Defender? I know that a lot of the cast and crew wanted to continue on with a sequel, and there's so many possibilities and things they can do in that universe, not to mention that Voltron is (or rather, was) a money bank...

Your guess is as good as mine, really. Hopefully we’ll get at least hints when the SACanime panel rolls around in early January.

There's a change petition for the "original s8" to be released ... [people] believe that LM and JDS are NOT the ones who ruined the last two seasons and that it was "exec meddling." Like, no, sorry, exec meddling appears to be what made it good in the beginning.

If we consider Yoo an exec by virtue of being CEO of Studio Mir, then I kinda wish he’d meddled a bit more. 

...I'm wondering if the original version exists, completed. In one post, you said DW picked Tim over L/J so surely that got animated? What do you think? Be real. I don't want to get my hopes high thinking there's some buried treasure out there to find.

Ah, no, sorry, I wasn’t speaking in the sense of VLD but in the overall corporate sense. Here’s how the scenario often plays out: manager A and employee B do not get along. The longer they clash, the greater the chance A will find an excuse to fire B. The project is literally not big enough for the both of them. 

B could resign, quit, or do a preemptive strike: go over A’s head and ask for help. If B leaves the company shortly after, it means the higher-up said: “I’ve heard A’s side, and I think A is right.” The exec might offer a good reference, or blame it on a no-fault bad fit. Doesn’t matter; the exec’s chosen A’s side. 

Now, consider what actually happened: B gets transferred off the project, and gets a major promotion -- basically up to the same level as B’s former manager. Either B has some of the most amazing dirt ever, is phenomenally good at twisting reality to seem like the wronged party... or the higher-up reviewed the situation and decided that of the two, B was the one worth keeping. 

Having decided that, the exec made an offer B couldn’t refuse, which would be to run a show that’s practically tailor-made to fit B’s dream job. That’s what I meant by losing the battle (how VLD would go) and winning the war (being the party seen as in the right, by the execs). 

The only way for A to turn things around is to have a blisteringly successful final product. It could literally kill two careers with one stone: the (former) employee, B, who spun such a good story, and the exec(s) who believed B. 

Given the numbers I’m seeing for S8... that exec did choose wisely.  

ETA (sorry forgot this part): There might be pieces, but it really depends on what version control is in use (if any). For that matter, even if there were saved copies, who’s to say those didn’t get, whoops, deleted at some point? I’d put my bet on there being nothing, now, except what we got. Sorry. 

I could understand if you never want to have anything to do with this show ever again.

Oh, jeez, I was here before VLD and I’ll be here after. Once we all get over our mutual exhaustion (and the holidays, bloody great timing, there), it’ll be time to roll up our sleeves and get to work. Fandom’s got a lot to do, putting things back together in all the shapes that’ll make us happy. This is the best time to be in a fandom, if you ask me. Everything’s just getting started!

[princessyennenga]

The Left Hand Rocks the Cradles - Chapter 2

Previously ...

Scott adjusted his blazer around his shoulders with a shrug.

“Someone with your talents should just accept that offer at a larger, reputable and profitable paper where she can build on the potential for a career legacy. Instead of chasing followers, likes and shares.”

After another 30 minutes, Iris had filled more pages with notes and quotes about the new hospital wing. After working this room, and Scott working her nerves, she was ready to wrap up this assignment. Then the message notification jingled on her phone and re-energized her. It was Barry. Instead of texting a reply, she stole away to a quiet spot near a water fountain and called him back.

“Hi Babe. So good to hear your voice,” Iris breathed.

“Oh yeah?” she could hear Barry’s face open up into a smile on the other end.

“Of course. You're my sunshine,” Iris laughed lightly, still touched that he appreciated her love so much.

“I do my best. So I take it that means your press conference and tour went well?” he said. Iris could hear the clink of heavy glass in the background. A young girl's voice rasped ‘Daddy. Dad! We don't have enough nitric--’ For a brief moment, Barry was distracted, probably by Nora wanting to ‘help’ him with his backlog of cases.

“Hang on just a second Iris, OK?” Iris gave him gave leave to help their daughter, the time traveler, get situated to begin her first round of analysis and reports for the day. He returned with a sigh.

“Just had to get Nora --”

“Situated, yeah, I understand. Listen, you’ll probably need to supervise her, so I’ll let you go --”

“Not so fast, Mrs. West-Allen!” he chided softly. “Catch me up on how things are going. I know you were wondering if Scrat Evans was going to show up …”

“It’s Scott, Barry,” Iris corrected, only half sternly. “And we agreed to take the high road about me having to see him for work every now and then, right? We're not going to be seventh grade about this?”

“Oh yeah! High road. Completely!” Barry assured so earnestly Iris could feel green eyes widen and his head nod. “I mean, I have no reason to dislike the guy. Feel bad for him, actually. Denied!” 

“Barry ...”

“He couldn’t even get a second date … and that coffee at Jitters was technically a story meeting, and not … ”

Just then Iris saw an elegant Black woman with thick salt and pepper hair, cut stylishly short, come into view just 20 feet away.

“Barry, I promise to fill you in when I get to S.T.A.R. Labs later,” Iris said. “I just spotted Theresa Merkel, and she would be good for the article.”

After Barry signed off with few endearments, Iris adjusted the strap of her large tote bag over her shoulder and bobbed through the crowd until she reached Theresa Merkel.

“Mrs. West-Allen. Hello again,” Theresa nodded calmly. “I didn't realize your coverage included the healthcare sector.”

Iris and Theresa exchanged greetings, but not too many pleasantries or small talk. Still, there was no awkwardness between them as Iris got straight to her questions.

“Mrs. Merkel, there was a small footnote near the back of the expansion budget report --” Iris said.

“The budget report?” Theresa was taken aback. “But financials are confidential. How did you obtain …?”

“Just. Connections, I guess,” Iris shrugged.

“And incredible resourcefulness! Well, continue.”

“It was a $13 million line item denoted by ‘PM’ …” Iris said. As she talked, Theresa’s mood shifted noticeably, but not toward hostility. She nodded slowly and took a soft, deep breath, and for a brief second Iris registered a very similar feeling to the one she read from Cecile when Jenna had kept her up for much of the night.

“Yes, well. A $13 million budget item, in my view, was a starting point to address some of the issues that have come to light in Central City recently,” she sighed. “I was not the only hospital board member to realize that many lives have been touched and changed in many ways. More than we can understand.”

Iris looked slightly puzzled, but before she could ask any more questions, a well-built man, fashionably bald, came along and looked eager to steal Theresa’s attention. Theresa recognized him instantly, as ‘Donovan,’ and excused herself from Iris. ‘More than we can understand’ echoed in Iris’ mind as she shook hands with several more hospital staff members while making her way to the coat rack. Most of the journalists for the city’s two largest newspapers had already fled to their offices to write up what they considered fluff pieces before moving on to meatier stories. Their hospital items might get boiled down to a full-page story in the Picture News, or a quick photo story leading the City section of the Central City Tribune, the city’s premiere broadsheet. 

The phrase was reminiscent of what Barry, or The Flash, then The Streak, had told Iris during their first rendezvous on the Jitters rooftop. As she tried to pry out of him how he could do what he did, he answered

‘There’s more to this than you can understand.’

Iris had felt slightly challenged by his answer. How did he know what she was capable of understanding and what concepts were beyond her grasp? His answer, almost a dismissal had fired her curiosity to really dig into who he was. It led Iris to a world of metas.

Barry was right when he excitedly drew a circle around that dot on his equation board in circle around that dot on his equation board in his CCPD lab. The particle accelerator had opened an entire field of science that Central City, and the world, were just beginning to explore.

‘Fully understand.’ Was Theresa Merkel saying that there is a $13 million pediatric meta research facility here? At the children’s hospital?! It was a theory that, if proven to be true, would impact the lives of every citizen of this city, population 1.7 million. A story like that would finally put the Central City Citizen on the map as more than just a “citizen journalist” blog, or “amateur researcher’s” blog or … the “how funny” blog, as Iris had overheard a few hardened career women describe her publication at networking events.      Iris pulled her jacket off the coat rack and rushed out of the hospital. She had her own fluff pieces and bigger stories to plan.

After an easier ride away from the hospital, Iris was energized. She stopped at Jitters to find a quiet, familiar spot so that she could focus. She ordered a chai latte and a small scone, then settled into a favorite spot near one of the tall windows. The winter sun easily reached through bare trees and poured through the uncovered glass windows, warming Iris so much that she had to shake off the duster that she wore over her long-sleeved, wrap silk blouse. She set her phone to 'Do Not Disturb' and opened her laptop. After almost an hour, Iris sat up high in her chair and stretched. She posted a 750-word story to Google Docs for her freelance editor, Julie Greer, to pick up and review. Then she picked up feature stories a couple of college stringers had turned in: a profile on a tattoo artist, and an organization bidding for a paralympic training camp. Over the next 90 minutes Iris swiftly edited the two stringer’s stories and passed them to Julie for a second read. Then they would be placed in the queue for posting, both to the main Web site and to subscribers’ e-newsletters. Another 30 minutes went by as Iris checked emails: a programmer had sent a link for a sample redesign; Emmet, the commission-only ad sales rep had great news about a rideshare service and fashion subscription Website.

And then a peculiar message: one from Theresa Merkel. Actually, her executive assistant. Iris leaned closer to her screen and craned her neck, taken aback at the outreach. Just as she had clicked it open and begun to read it, her video chat app intruded.

“MOM!!” Nora’s brown eyes wide with agitation, blocked the message. “Dad and I have been trying to reach you for the past hour. Where are you? What’s going on? Why is you phone going to voicemail??”

Then Barry’s face slid into the frame, his brows furrowed and his eyes peering into the lens. Iris suppressed a laugh behind her hand. Her adorable nerd husband forgot -- again -- that lenses do not always give up the secrets on the other end.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Iris uncovered her mouth. “Work got away from me a little bit.”

“Hey, no schr---!” Nora fired back.

“Nora!” Barry’s stern tone checked Nora’s language, but not her exuberance.

“Of course. Sorry Mom. But we have lunch plans, remember?” Nora said, glancing back at Barry. “You can’t just go offline for half the morning and not let us know. It’s like Dad says, ‘all family plans come first’.”  

Iris launched into a flurry of apologies as she snapped her laptop shut and collected the pens, notebooks and papers fanned out on the table. Just as she stood up and slid into her duster and camel hair coat, Iris heard the sound of a toddler giggling and babbling. She didn’t see a child, but noticed a brownie float off of another patron's plate, who was so distracted by her own phone that she barely noticed the brazen theft. Then, a young woman bustled past Iris' table, looking frantic. The alarm in the woman's face crested when she saw the dessert seemingly float away on its own. The young woman smacked the food away, causing it to hit the floor. She feigned clumsiness and apologized profusely to the woman who was sitting behind the empty plate, slapping a bill down on the table to pay for a replacement. Iris' interest is piqued when she noticed the young woman looking at the front door, as three more customers pushed the door wide open and walk in. The young woman hurriedly followed the swinging door and looked around. Then, thinking that no one had noticed her, she crouched down and appeared to grab thin air with her hand.

“Barry, Nora, I might be a little late for lunch …”

“Iris, come on! I haven’t seen you all day,” Barry took over the video chat while Nora was in the background grabbing their jackets. Of course, he had seen her just several hours ago, that morning, but to a speedster a few hours felt interminable. 

“Is it the blog relaunch,” he asked, “because you have to be careful not to overwork yourself.”

“No, no Barry, I’m on to something here,” then Iris lowered her voice to a whisper. “Of the *dark matter* variety …”

“Oh! Look, Iris be careful …”

“I will, I will,” Iris said hurriedly, and began to follow the young woman outside from a safe distance. “Look, Barry I have to follow up on this, but I’ll fill you in when I see you a little later. For lunch. Promise.”

After a round of “I love yous” Iris dashed off. She followed the young woman down a busy street, which was beginning to thicken with lunchtime crowds. Every now and then her arm appeared to lift away from her body, tugging her wildly. A couple of times the young woman stopped and looked around her, while Iris hid in a doorway. Finally, the young woman turned at the entrance to a quiet alley, where she crouched down again. She spoke quietly but firmly to *someone* until the air in front of her shimmered and a small child, about three or four years old, appeared. The young woman sighed and spoke to the child again, stroking his arm warmly. Then she took the child by the hand and they walked to a luxury sedan, where she buckled him into a carseat. Iris stayed out of sight as she watched the mother hand over a juice box before buckling herself in and pulling away.

[vddls-blog]

Friend reader, imagine a place where you could cross 15 clones of the One Piece Hero, eat octopus balls, buy cat ears (stuffed!), Be photographed on the back of a virtual pig or receive a lot of cuddles coming from perfect unknowns … Impossible, do you think? Well no ! This idyllic world, strange, perfect, crazy, kawai (bar useless mentions) exists. His name is Japan Expo!

Favorite robot..

As you say right now, I'm not mad about manga. Although I have the pseudo "BDphilou", it is especially the Franco-Belgian comics that has always fascinated me. Younger, I still loved the cartoon "Akira" which remains a reference of the Manga genre but other than that, few have caught my attention.

In these conditions, why go to the Japan Expo? Especially since I'm not able to quote any minor character of Naruto or to sing the least credits of cartoons appeared after 1985? Well it's simple: Japan Expo is an experience in itself!

For those who do not know at all what Japan Expo is, know that it is a kind of huge living room based at the Paris Nord Villepinte exhibition center. And what do we see? An incredible amount of stands more or less in connection with Japan in general and Jap'animation " in particular.

On the menu of this event many different activities:

Of shopping in the countless shops of the show selling everything and often anything: Who wants to buy cats paws stuffed? Or keychains in the shape of Cup Cake? Or very "kawaïs" stuffed animals representing llamas (yes, I'm still looking for the relationship with Japan), bottles of fruit juice with real pieces of fruit inside? And lots of other objects as useless as necessary.

of the course martial arts, wrestling (!?!), calligraphy, majong, cooking and – in the midst of the deafening sound of the Yoga Salon!

of the restaurants selling a whole lot of Asian specialties as tasty as unexpected. Well, do not count on me to give you my impression on the menus, I had loosely bought my sandwich at the station just before entering the exhibition!

of the scenes where groups of Japanese singers-unknown to ordinary European mortals-whose average age should not exceed 15 years, make a real card to the applaudimeter.

of the conferences more or less surprising. Thus, one could religiously listen to the creator of the hit video game series "Crazy Taxi" that explained how he had designed his game … or go a few tens of meters away to see a huge crowd cheering a big yellow stuffed that had a badly mad to move and who was screaming in incomprehensible language!

of the stands for the less curious where you are offered to sit on a cube and in front of a green background. A snapshot and 2 minutes later, you leave with a picture of you on a virtual pig with written: "Seven Deadly Sins". Why ? How? What happened there? So many questions that will remain unanswered!

Stands video games represented a little by Sony and a lot by Nintendo. It was also the part of the noisiest room. It must be said that the animators visibly confused the verbs "comment" and "scream" to describe what everyone could yet see on giant screens.

But ESPECIALLY: there is Cosplay !

Well sorry for this old-fashioned reference to Captain Flamme, but as I said above, I'm not super up to date on the latest Japanese cartoons. So, back to our sushi, and unlike this as one might think, the most interesting point of the Japan Expo is not necessarily in the various stands and activities on offer. No ! It is indeed in its alleys that is all the "salt" of this event. Indeed, many visitors are " cosplayers ". Understand that they made the trip to walk in the living room fully disguised as heroes of manga and / or video games. But be careful, do not imagine the costume knitted quickly by Tati Huguette the eve of the last year's holiday party. Here it is really about often impressive costumes. We feel that most Cosplayers had to spend a considerable amount of time designing the smallest details of their clothes. It goes from the simplest (The Hero of One Piece with his red jacket and his straw hat was very well represented) to costumes simply impressive or confusing realism. So even though, like me, you only know the 10th characters crossed in the aisles of the show, it is obvious that your eyes will naturally be attracted by all these creations. Thus, Ariel the little Mermaid rubs Cobra with her cigar, Princess Amidala talks with a zombie nurse and the Spartan "300" queues at fast food with a warrior looking straight out of prehistory! Surreal and very fun at the same time. Especially since all this beautiful world is very easily affordable and will be happy to ask for any objective on request from you. Some even give you a business card so you can take a look at their website presenting each of their costumes!

As you can see, strolling the aisles of the show is an attraction of every moment.

To conclude this little report, I realize that I forgot to talk to you about many things. For example, we could notice the locations for dedications of Japanese authors well known who were not so far from those young amateur designers seeking to break through by presenting their first fanzine. I also forgot to mention the presence of a clone of Freddy Mercury vacuuming on stage with a giant panda (!! ??). And how not to mention people walking around with their signs " Free Hugs ". Understand that they propose to hug you, just for fun! I could also talk to you a little about video games by telling you quickly that I was able to watch a fight from the next Super Smash Bros (to be released at the end of the year on Wii U) on a giant screen. This was the 1era European public presentation, if I'm not mistaken. And the baffles are flying low, believe me! I also discovered " Splatoon (Still on Wii U / planned release in February 2015). A game of confrontation with 4 players against 4 where it will be the team repainting the largest area of ​​the playground. To move faster, you must … turn into a squid! (???) A game perfectly in keeping with the spirit of the show: completely barred and incredibly endearing! Well, there are still 1000 things to tell about the Japan Expo but I prefer to leave you the surprise to live them in one of the next editions! Sayonara!