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narislvr · 16 days

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HEY THERE, SUBW4Y GIRL

one-last-stop au ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ | e.williams x fem!reader

cws? reader wears glasses and is on the bigger side (not mentioned yet but we need more love for chubby readers!!) reader is a college student working at a diner, ellie is a blip in time but reader doesn't know that yet, love at first sight trope but you're both awkward 🧍‍♂️, no use of y/n for reader, this blurb is moreso an intro to the world so not much ellie yet (might be a series if it dies well!!) Spoilers for the book, and will have some direct quotes.

m.list [๋࣭🪻] part 2 [ 🌆 ] palestine-resources & daily click

"Her eyes are bright and teasing and warm, warm forever-and-ever brown, and august doesn’t know how she could possibly do anything but whatever this girl says." pg 20

You weren't going to cry.

you weren't going to cry over the shitty smell of pancake batter and honey that wouldn't wash off despite your half hour shower ── the smell bonding to you after working too many late hour shifts at the diner ── and you definitely weren't going to cry over the scorching feeling of the coffee cup leaking small droplets of what you were considering your only energy source onto your hand.

you were already running late for your first morning class of the semester, but if you found your right train on time ── which you've already memorized out of fear of this exact situation ── then you'd still make it before it became too noticeable you were late.

sure, things were already going far worse than you'd hoped for, from having to pick up a late shift the night before at the 24/7 diner you work at, leaving you with four hours to sleep before having to get up and get ready for class, to dealing with a rude barista in the coffee shop above the metro station who couldn't even bother to tighten the lid of your cup.

things were not going great, but you were determined to make things better.

to your dismay however, determination alone wouldn't be enough to turn your luck.

amidst your attempt of carefully closing the lid of your coffee cup, you don't notice the group of teenage kids running your direction until one of them bumped into you with a grunt. the coffee, which had been one source of your annoyance this morning, spills across your top staining the once white fabric of your long-sleeveed shirt an opaque shade of brown, and to add to your already shitty morning, you hear the sound of your phone hit the pavement with a loud crack.

The teenager gives you a quick look up and down, their expression contorting into one of horror as they look at the stain on your top and the state of your phone on the floor behind you. ──if that's the way they look at you, then maybe you shouldn't even try looking at yourself── deciding that you wouldn't fight a fourteen year old, not that you would've anyways, you bend down to pick your phone off the ground, your lips forming a tight frown as you look over at all the various cracks on the screen of the phone you had worked so hard to afford.

despite the feeling of a knot tightening further in the back of your throat, you stayed true to your promise.

You weren't going to cry.

Your train pulls up only a few moments later, and you quickly blink back the tears before stepping aboard. to your luck ──if you even want to risk calling it that── the car wasn't as full as you though it'd be. usually it would be a great thing, not being crowded by people, but right now as you stood holding the handlebar, it really hit you just how disheveled you must look to others. Your hair was frizzy, your eyes were teary, coffee soaked your shirt, and now you smelled like a mixture of coffee, pancakes, and faintly of vanilla body spray.

You were a wreck.

you feel someone move to your side and you cringe slightly, your shoulders stiffening as you kept your gaze on the floor. you hear the unzip of a bag, presumably the person beside you getting something out, and you shift your gaze to sneak a glance at the stranger at your side expecting, but hoping it wasn't, a creep ──it's a subway, you never know what could happen in a 15 minute ride── but to your surprise, you're met with sun bleached black converse and baggy jeans next to your own white converse. Slowly your gaze moves upward, noting the way the person's foot tapped rythmicly the floor beneath it before you get a better look at them.

And fuck do you get a good look at them.

The person who you expected to be some lanky guy, perhaps some skater boy, perhaps a creep ──again, can never be too cautious── was actually... a girl. Round cheeks, with a softly scrunched and freckled nose, a girl so pretty you thought you were hallucinating. Her hair was a dark shade of auburn, half her hair up in a small ponytail while the rest fell a little over her nape. On her head were a pair of old looking headphones connected to a Walkman that stuck out the front pocket of her messenger bag as she searched for something down at the bottom with a small smirk. Did she know you were looking? What was she looking for that had her looking like that?

don't be a creep, you thought to yourself, trying to tear your gaze from her right arm. The sleeves of her faded blue flannel were rolled up just above her elbow, exposing the intricate design of ferns and a ──still in the works── moth on her forearm. don't be a creep, you repeated to yourself in your mind as you look away from the beautiful stranger at your side. Why'd she have to appear exactly when you looked your worst?

"Yikes," She finally says, her smirk still ever present on her face as she looks up to face you now.

The hottest girl you've ever seen just took a look at you and said "Yikes." What the fuck.

You were dumbfounded ──inwardly horrified── and she can't help but chuckle as she finally finds what she was looking for in her bag. It wasn't a mocking chuckle. no. it wasn't something lighthearted, curious, and you swear the temperature had risen in the subway car.

"Here," the girl says, pulling out a burgundy colored scarf and holding it out to you. "You look like you're going somewhere important, so," She gestures vaguely at her neck, "keep it."

You blink once, processing her offer before coming out of your trance and shaking your head, "You─ oh my God, I can't take your scarf."

The girl shrugs. "I'll get another one."

"But it's cold."

"Yeah," She says and her smirk shifts into something unreadable for a split second before your attention is caught by the dimples that had formed on her freckled cheeks. "But I don't go outside much."

You stare for a moment and she does as well.

"Look," She starts, her hands fidgeting slightly with the ends of the scarf, "You can take it, or i can leave it in the seat next to you, and it can get absorbed into the subway ecosystem forever."

She drags out the end of her sentence with a playful lilt, her smirk softening into a grin and in that moment her eyes are bright and teasing and warm. warm forever-and-ever a hazey green, and you don't know how you could possibly do anything but whatever this girl says.

A moment later you give in to her offer and reluctantly take the scarf from her hands. The wool is soft and light in your touch, and when your fingertips brush against the ends where the girl had been fidgeting with it earlier, you feel a pop of electricity. The girl, who had been watching you carefully, laughs under her breath, the sound airy as she reaches out to help you wrap it around your neck in a tender motion. She steps back after a moment, and gives you a look, the same teasing smile as before as she raises a brow at you.

"Anyone ever tell you you smell like pancakes?"

Before you can respond, the train plunges into a tunnel. The car shudders on the tracks, and the girl lets out a small yelp as she almost loses her balance and reaches for the hand rail over your head. It all happened suddenly but the last thing you see of her is an unreadable purse of her lips and the beginning of another tattoo on her left arm as she lifts it before the fluorescent lights flicker out.

The darkness lasted a second, two at most, but when the lights came back on, the girl was gone.

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radramblog · 3 years

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What happened to Dirk in Homestuck^2?

Why am I doing this to myself.

I memed a little yesterday when I was posting that article around social medias about Homestuck jokes, because once again we are in lockdown and I am therefore Stuck at Home. Canned laughter goes here. But there’s a topic related to the comic- or more specifically, its aborted sequel, Homestuck^2, that I’m interested in delving into a little bit. I’m going to avoid talking about spoilers as much as possible, but considering said comic takes place not only after the events of the massive sprawl that is Homestuck but also the more linear but still messy Epilogues, some amount of sus shit is inevitable.

Anyway. Much maligned is what the Epilogues and 2 did to everyone’s favourite decapitation target, Dirk Strider, and I have a theory as to why it happened this way.

To begin with, let’s summarise what and who Dirk is through the course of the comics. Fair warning from me, though, it’s been a while since I read through this.

Dirk Strider is a teenager who grew up in a post-apocalyptic future Earth, completely devoid of physical contact with other people and only really ever gets to talk to 3 other people, only one of whom is in anything remotely resembling a relatable situation. He struggles with self-identity, having created numerous robots including an artificial intelligence based on his own brain, aka Lil’ Hal. He’s somewhat of a control freak, and a bit of a cold aloof asshole, but means well, and is pretty gay. NBD. The kinda guy to set up a plan meticulously and thoroughly, not informing any of the moving parts even if said parts are his friends, and often involving some form of self-sacrifice.

Throughout the comic he further reckons with self-identity problems and his own self-loathing including entering a relationship with Jake which doesn’t go well and he eventually breaks off since he knows his overbearing and manipulative behaviour is Not Cool and Pretty Toxic but doesn’t know how to shut it off. Eventually he reaches the God Tier as a Prince of Heart, gaining the power to literally annihilate souls, which he never actually uses since he gets yeeted into deep (Paradox) space and then everything goes to shit. Except none of that happens because of the Retcon (aside from the God Tier bit) and we don’t actually see how that shit progressed in the canon timeline. I think. Dirk’s arc, as it were, doesn’t really come full circle- while he does assist in Dave’s character…growth? he really isn’t the focus of that conversation. This immediately precedes the action climax and there isn’t literally any dialogue after that so that’s what we’re left with.

I like Dirk in Homestuck a lot. It’s hard not to, considering the flashes heavily featuring him (Unite/Synchronise and Prince of Heart: Rise Up) are genuinely excellent, along with many of his music themes being absolute bangers. He gets to interact with Caliborn a lot, with a pretty great banter, there, and the whole splintered personality thing is a really interesting hook for a character. I think he’s my favourite of the Alpha kids, a controversial pick considering I know everyone loves Roxy so much. I think, I’m not as in tune with the fandom as that statement implies I am.

And then the Epilogues/Homestuck 2 came.

Now I read the Meat half of the epilogues first, but that’s more interesting, so we’ll tackle Candy first (this is going to get real confusing for those who haven’t read this comic, huh).

In Candy, Dirk almost immediately kills himself, citing the irrelevance of the timeline as cause, an act considered by whatever mechanism governs God Tier deaths to be Just because he hates himself (and also bc of things we’ll get into), so it actually sticks. This isn’t super relevant for the discussion, but that’s just kinda so unbelievably fucked up? Entirely? I’d imagine if you read Candy first you might get entirely turned off by this, which I’m sure a lot of people did.

Meat is where the, well, meat of post-canon Dirk is. You see, a concept very quickly introduced in the tail end of the original comic is the Ultimate Self, an idea where you somehow encompass every different timeline iteration or alternate version of yourself. This was pretty clearly tacked on to make it so characters whose arcs all happened in the retcon timeline could have their not getting an actual arc explained away, but it didn’t land then and it sure doesn’t land for me now. Anyway, in Meat, Dirk becomes his ultimate self, making him near-omniscient and able to control the fabric of the story himself- for much of this story, he is the narrator. And he uses this power to fuck with all his friends really distressingly without their knowledge (or consent), including breaking up a marriage, in order to further his own goals which largely appear to be just keep the story going so to not fade out of relevance. It’s a plot that makes no sense with his previous characterisation, but I guess now that he’s the Ultimate Self he’s a different person? But I liked old Dirk, and I don’t like New Dirk. He’s a villain now, but he made a much better anti-hero.

But this would be fine if he (or the epilogues, or Homestuck^2) were written well. But they aren’t. Dirk’s dialogue is long, painfully drawn out, with tangents that tend to amount to pure wank, misused literary references and pointless metaphors that go on and on, filling the screen with a bright orange screed that hurts to look at as much as it does to comprehend. It’s not fun. And we’ve seen Dirk communicate before, obviously, the story of Homestuck is built around chatlogs, but it wasn’t like this. He was sarcastic, dryly witty, blunt at times. Even when he was literally talking to a different version of himself it didn’t get that masturbatory.

I was so confused about what the hell happened to Dirk, because I had no idea what the hell someone writing this character was thinking when they turned him into this. And then, the 21st page of Homestuck^2 dropped.

And it all came together.

What Ultimate Dirk and Terezi are referring to is Pony Pals: Detective Pony, a children’s book about some girls who hang out with ponies and solve a mystery. It’s a real book, buy it for your 5-year-old.

Except they’re not referring to that, they’re referring to the Homestuck Canon version of Detective Pony- a birthday gift from Dirk to Jane, heavily edited and to be much more obscene and eventually developing into it’s own story, stated to be “tough, emotionally draining, but cathartic in all the worst ways possible”.

Except the quote “Remember Longcat, Jane?” and references to philosophy, dead languages, and ancient earth culture aren’t referring to the three pages of the Dirk-edited Detective Pony we see in the actual comic itself. That quote doesn’t appear there.

That image is from Detective Pony, by Sonnetstuck- the 40,000 word fanfiction from 2014 that serves as a completed version of Jane’s copy of the book. An expansion of what we see in canon. And it’s a tough, emotionally draining read, but cathartic in all the worst ways possible.

It’s a very good fanfiction.

In the later bits of Detective Pony, we can start to see the origins of what would become Ultimate Dirk’s signature style of writing. Long blocks of rambling text, orange dripping down the page, references to philosophy and history and language that go on and on. And it probably does look familiar to those who read the Epilogues and ^2.

But there are a couple of key differences here. First of all, it’s just better written? The way these rambles circle back on themselves is so excellent, the absolute absurdity of this being written on top of a pony book for little girls, the humour (beyond some of the more immature stuff), it’s just a really well-written piece of fiction. Hell, you don’t even need to be familiar with the character of Dirk to enjoy it. It’s a harrowing piece, but it’s also self-aware- because it’s not supposed to be tough, draining, cathartic etc. just for Jane- it’s clearly that for Dirk himself.

The second part is, of course, that this is a fanfiction. It’s not canon, it’s not official, this is by someone who really likes Dirk for people who really like Dirk. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so if you bounce off it (and I’m sure a lot did), then you don’t have to keep reading it, it’s fine, thanks for playing. As much as Homestuck^2 tried to doll itself up as “dubiously canon” it’s still the official continuation of the story, and that means if it’s as difficult to get into as Detective Pony, that’s going to be a problem for a lot of people.

The other part of it is that Detective Pony’s exploration of Dirk’s character is, well, in character. When the man himself steps in as a character in his own book, the explorations of what he is as an author, who he is as a person, make perfect sense for what we see of him at the start of the comic. He is that manipulative, blunt person, and he is aware of his faults. He’s the kind of person to hide a lamentation on his own failings inside an impenetrable maze of a story layered on top of a book about fucking ponies. Ultimate Dirk does not act like Dirk, outside of the “manipulator” angle, something that Dirk was aware of and trying to improve in the comic. But I guess people don’t have arcs, right?

It’s so interesting to see the seeds of Homestuck^2 laden within Detective Pony- because the meta angle that and the epilogues take is also represented in said fanfiction. While the nature of canon is a facet of the work, the idea of authors and narrators fighting for control of a story, different ideas in mind for the characters, one being more personally connected to them than the other, it’s all there. When I wrote about Fallout 4 in the past, I mentioned being worried that Bethesda took the wrong lessons from Skyrim- seeing something successful and trying to recapture that lightning in a bottle. I think Homestuck^2 is an extreme example of this- the writers of the comic saw Sonnetstuck’s masterwork and thought, yeah that’s great, we can do that. But they just can’t. And with the comic crashed and burning, the probably won’t ever get a chance to. Dirk is forever stuck as this amalgamation of himself that looks nothing like any individual version of him ever did.

At least we will still have Detective Pony, and many other excellent fanworks, for actually good Dirk content. I admittedly haven’t looked into much fanfic written during/post-epilogues, and I’m kind of afraid of what I’ll see- I can only hope the fanbase didn’t take the same wrong lessons as the official team did.

#ramble #honestly more of an essay #homestuck #homestuck 2 #dirk strider #ultimate dirk #just ignore me accidentally posting this to the wrong account and having to reup it

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konaizumi · 3 years

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Manner of Death ep 12 thoughts/reaction

so damn, shit really happened in this episode, huh?

Jane, i love you so much, you did not deserve to get murdered

my poor girl, forced to sit at the table with her assailants while they taunt her

i just want to give her a hug, the way she reaches for tan as he gets up

also good on you for throwing that water in his face but you def should not have done that

also what’s with tan and bun just being in the police station? even if they were cleared for pued’s murder, don’t they still think tan shot bun?

i know we can’t trust rungtiva’s story and what she said pued did but any warm feelings i may have had for pued are completely gone now, he sucks

so we can’t trust rungtiva or her version of events bc she’s lying to cover herself and the officials, but do we think pued killed jane (whether together with rung or was involved somehow)?

i really want to root for rung killing pued bc of what he did to jane but i know it was more likely bc pued was probably going to reveal everything and she needed to protect herself

also rung cries when she kills pued (at least according to her story), so did she still have feelings for him? bc i can’t think why they would reveal they dated in the past just so rug would know about the heart condition, bc there’s plenty of other ways they could have had her find out so i feel like the dating thing will come back at some point

you’re brother fucking deserved it por

so por does know about the human trafficking? i figured he must but this seems to confirm that he doesn’t really have any connections to it or he’s not directly involved with it

do tan and bun believe rung? bc tan doesn’t seem ssuper broken up about the fact that his brother might’ve killed jane, which makes it seem like he doesn’t fully trust rung’s version of events

tan hoping bun would say ‘home is wherever you are’

everything about the seen where sorawit walks in on them is the best, bun’s surprised pikachu face, tan rolling on the floor in pain, That’s smirk, sorawit just wanting to show off his fish, tan pretending to be in more pain to get cuddles

shit, i thought we could trust the judge but he’s been sus since ep 1 when bun talked about the powerful people and the camera panned to the commander, the politician, then the judge

okay but where is this police raid? the back of the spa? the random house in the woods?

yeeeeees, save my poor daughter nam

THE CACTUS IS BACK! tan, just admit you missed the cactus, if you just needed the card you didn’t need to bring the whole cactus

they’re gonna have to dig up the chilly plant and lilies and relocate them to the new house

aww, poor tan thinking he’s the ugly duckling, not because he’s physically unattractive but because he always felt unwanted and different from his family

okay but where tf did flamingo come from lol

okay but why are y’all so stupid? why would you not immediately check out jane’s email??

also her password was mydearsis2708, like that’s a deliberate clue, right??? she wrote this in a book which she deliberately gave to bun years after she had borrowed it

damn, they got me, after the preview last week i was very concerned about her amnesia, but i’m so glad it’s fake and she’s in a good enough head space to joke around

but who is this guy in the yellow shirt that they’re just, like, revealing things to? did you not learn to keep your mouths shut?

damn, i thought gun would just knock him out or something but then he just fucking shot him multiple times and i will say i wasn’t expecting that, but also why are you so incompetent that you didn’t shoot M once more somewhere more lethal to insure that he’s dead

so tanbun know rung is somehow connected to the human trafficking, but do they know how? bc seemingly her only connection would be she knows about it bc of pued and jane but that wouldn’t lead them to think she was involved right? or maybe i forgot something, idk

we got some really high quality tanbun scenes this ep

leave my poor baby oat alone

anyways fuck these writers for making me think that M died

also, i know it prob wouldn’t have occurred to oat at the time and he wouldn’t have known who shot M, but this would’ve been a great chance to fake M’s death to keep him safe

next ep preview: yes, finally the thatsoranam team up i’ve been waiting for! are they hiding in pued’s safe house? my children better be safe, M had better survive, and who’s the person at the end that surprises tanbun?

anyways, great ep, we’re almost at the end (unfortunately) but i’m excited to see how everything shapes up

#manner of death #mod #manner of death ep 12 #manner of death spoilers #mod spoilers #mod ep 12 #konaizumi reactions

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how-manygalileos · 5 years

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Yes, Minister - A BoRhap Politics AU

//Chapt 1//Chapt 2// Chapt 3

A/N: me and @rachelweiszs-areawoman finally got another chapter done! between uni deadlines another shit, but here it is, there’s a fair few juicy developments in this instalment 👀👀👀👀👀

Word Count: 2315

Chapter 4

“Refugees are moving across our continent on a scale we have not seen since the second world war, with a third of a million trying to cross the Mediterranean this year, many ready to pay their life savings to criminal gangs who board them on to overcrowded boats and then leave them to drown. Fifty-two people were found dead in the hull of a boat. They had been forced into an airless hold, forced to pay to come up to breathe, and those who could not pay suffocated to death. The pictures of Alan Kurdi have moved a continent—the image of a three-year-old on a beach, a picture that should have been full of life and joy and instead was a tragedy.” (from Yvette Cooper’s speech of 8th September 2015)

Gwilym watched in awe as Kick passionately argued with a member of the opposition. He didn’t know what to think.

He’d thought she was incredible since he’d met her; now, with this speech, she proved him right.

He’d thought she was beautiful since the dinner at No. 10. The dress she was wearing, standing up and arguing her point, was a knockout.

But now, now he thought he might be falling in love with her. Her compassion, her intelligence, her beauty, they all made him fall for her more.

In fact, he knew he was in love with her.

He was, to paraphrase Jane Austen, in the middle before he knew he had begun.

All Gwilym knew, in that moment, was that he needed to be with her.

Gwilym practically ran out of the House of Commons after Kick at the end of the day’s sitting. He caught up with her, and found himself tongue-tied.

“Hello Gwilym” Kick said as they walked through Central Lobby towards the House’s coffee shop.

“H-hi Kick. Look, um, you were fantastic in there….really phenomenal” He said nervously, quickly buying a coffee for him and Kick.

“Thank you, though I’m guessing there’s an ulterior motive to buying me a coffee?”

“Well, um, would you like to go to dinner with me? As- as a date?” Gwilym asked, quietly. He was sure she’d say no.

“I’d love to” Kick replied as they exited the Houses of Parliament and jumped into a cab. Gwilym smiled down into his coffee for a moment.

“Shall we call this our first date, Gwilym? Pick me up at 7 tomorrow for the second?” Kick asked. Gwilym smiled at her.

“See you then” He said as he kissed her cheek, and jumped out of the cab.

-- Joe sat at his desk re-reading Elsie’s column. Even though she had written a whole piece tearing him and his family to shreds, he couldn’t help but be charmed by her. She knew he’d read this. She must have wanted him to see it, she knew he’d read her column after all. Maybe she wanted his attention, maybe she liked his attention and maybe she hadn’t realised that yet. Logging in his computer, he opened up Twitter and typed a name into the search bar. He lingered slightly before pressing enter on the keyboard. He read the most recent tweet to himself.

@elsie_stew Honoured and excited to be speaking at @univofstandrews tomorrow afternoon, open to the public as well as students! More details on the SU website, see you there!

St Andrews. That’s west Scotland. Joe checked the calendar on his phone, he had a free day tomorrow, he could make it. He just wanted to talk face to face, not through Twitter, not through a series of op-eds and public statements; but in person, preferably when she wasn’t chained to a statue of some sort.

“Natalie!” Joe called his assistant into his office, “Could you book me a flight to Edinburgh for tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, Ambassador Mazzello.” she responded, “Can I ask why? - for the accounts” Joe smiled slightly at her curiosity.

“It’s… a personal visit,” he said, not really sure how to define a flight needed to surprise the woman who’d been slamming him in the press, as of late, at a lecture she was giving at a university. Natalie raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, before nodding and walking back to her desk. Joe then turned back to his computer and liked the tweet, thinking this might give Elsie some prior warning for his appearance.

Joe sat back in his chair for a moment and replied to a few emails before taking a some time to look out the window at the London skyline. There was an abrupt knock on his door.

“Come in!” he called, Natalie poked her head around the door.

“It’s Minister Lee for you, sir.” she started, “he says it’s an urgent.” Joe stood up, slightly panicked. What could it possibly be?

“Of course, please send him in.” he responded. A flustered Gwilym rushed into his office, not really making eye contact with him.

“Gwil, what is it? What’s the emergency?” Joe said walking towards him.

“Uhhh - I asked Kick out. Kind of on a whim.” Gwil rambled out, “But she said yes, and now I realise have literally no plans. So I thought ‘who’s got the best reputation with charming women?’ and now I’m here.”

“I’m flattered, Gwil, I really am.” Joe chuckled in response.

“Joe, I really need your help.” Gwilym pleaded.

“Easy.” Joe started, “drinks, dinner, dessert with two spoons. Then of course you make sure she gets home safe.” The panicked expression left Gwil’s face.

“That’s actually great.” Gwil said, Joe nodded knowingly in response, “But where do I take her? I really need this to be special.”

“I could get you a reservation at the Criterion, Marco Pierre White’s a friend of the family.”

“Oh my god, Joe! That would actually be incredible” he knew it was maybe a little much for a first date, but he really wanted it to be special.

“Anything to help a friend.” Joe said smiling.

---

Gwilym jumped out of the cab and asked the driver to hold it. He walked up to Kick’s front door and knocked, nervously straightening his jacket as he waited. She opened the door, and metaphorically knocked him off his feet. The silver and gold dress trailed behind her as Gwilym helped her down the steps from her front door and into the cab, the beading overlay sitting perfectly on her chest. Gwilym could hardly speak. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Kick couldn’t keep her eyes off Gwil for the whole drive to the restaurant. She didn’t know where they were going, but she hoped she wasn’t overdressed. Guessing by Gwilym’s three piece suit, she wasn’t.

The cab pulled up outside the Criterion restaurant in central London. Gwilym hopped out, and almost ran around the cab to open Kick’s door. He paid the driver and offered Kick his arm. She took it, and they walked in together, praying that no photographers were around.

“This is very fancy, Gwilym. How did you get a reservation at such short notice?” Kick asked as they were seated in the corner.

“I...have my ways” Gwilym replied, perusing the menu and wincing slightly at the prices. It was worth it though. Kick would always be worth it.

Kick looked up at Gwilym as their spoons clashed. They shared a white chocolate and marron glace mousse as a dessert, just as Joe suggested, and it seemed to be working a treat. Every time Kick looked up at him through her eyelashes, Gwilym swore his heart would beat out of his chest.

The air was chilly as they left the restaurant, and Gwilym draped his suit jacket around Kick’s shoulders. They hailed a cab and made their way out of central London.

“Come to mine for a nightcap?” Gwilym asked, looking over at his date.

“I’d love to” Kick replied, resting her head on his shoulder.

20 minutes later, Kick found herself sat on Gwilym’s sofa, feet tucked underneath her, with a cup of tea in her hands. Gwilym sat down beside her.

“Thanks for dinner, Gwilym” Kick whispered. It all felt a lot more real once they were back at Gwilym’s house.

“It was my pleasure, Kick” He replied, laying an arm gently over her shoulders, sipping his tea.

“That was one of the nicest things anybody’s ever done for me” Kick said, placing her mug down on the coffee table.

“You deserve to be treated” Gwilym replied, doing the same and looking into her eyes. Kick placed her hand on Gwilym’s thigh as an invitation, and he crashed his lips to hers.

The following morning, Joe stepped out of his front door and stepped into the car waiting for him out front.

“Where to, Ambassador Mazzello?” the chauffeur asked, smiling at him politely.

“London City airport, please.” Joe said, returning the smile, before going to check his phone.

“Going anywhere nice, Ambassador?”

“Just visiting a friend in Scotland.” Friend. Was Elsie a friend? Well, no. But he couldn’t exactly tell his chauffeur that he was paying an unannounced visit to a woman who doesn’t like him but he felt drawn to in an unexplained way. That would make it sound like he intended to kill her.

He arrived at the airport and boarded his flight. It was a reasonably uneventful flight, he had at one point gotten talking to an older gentleman who recognised him. Putting his copy of the Financial Times down for a moment, the man had asked what was bringing Joe to Edinburgh. He gave the same response. That he was visiting a friend. The term friend certainly wasn’t the correct term for Elsie Stewart, but then neither was enemy. He’d work out what to call her eventually, for now ‘friend’ raised the least suspicions in from any angle.

On the car ride from Edinburgh to St Andrews, Joe found himself browsing bars and restaurants in the area. He could take her for a drink, just to talk… it wasn’t like he had an ulterior motive. Thanking the driver, he stepped out of the car. He took in the scenic campus for a moment before walking to the lecture theatre Elsie was speaking at, it was due to start reasonably soon.

Trying to keep a low profile, Joe took a seat towards the back of the theatre amongst the students and members of the public also in attendance. Elsie walked to the lectern and began to speak. Public speaking was something she had always excelled in, even in primary school. She was passionate and articulate, and Joe could see that. He might not have agreed with what she was saying but he found himself almost persuaded, just for a moment. About an hour passed with Elsie discussing political theory and social issues, in her peppy and yet occasionally sarcastic tone, Joe sometimes getting a little distracted by her accent and the way it wrapped around the words leaving her mouth.

“Any questions?” she said to the lecture theatre, scanning the faces that stared back, some with raised hands. She selected a student in the third row as he asked his question.

“What advice would you give for discussing politics with people who don’t agree with you?” the young man asked, Elsie continued scanning the room. Her eyes met Joe’s, he gave her a coy wave and she subtly raised an eyebrow in response.

“Great question,” she began to respond to to student, “When you cross paths with a person who opposes you it’s important you keep a level head, they’re certainly not going to take in anything you’re saying if they see you as a member of the ‘hysterical, intolerant left’. Also don’t be afraid to acknowledge the negatives in political systems you support, no political system is perfect after all.”

Elsie continued to answer questions for another 20 minutes before being urged to wrap things up by one of the political sciences professors. As the audience were filling out, Joe walked down the stairs to where Elsie was packing her notes back into her bag.

“Can I help you, Easy Street?” she didn’t even look up from her bag, Joe smiled slightly at the nickname.

“Nothing specifically, just thought I’d let you know how much I enjoyed your most recent piece.” he stepped closer towards her as she put her coat on. Elsie raised her eyebrows at him, slightly urging him to continue his point before starting to walk up the lecture theatre stairs to the door.

“I particularly enjoyed the way you implied that i bought my way to my position,” he started, following her up the stairs and out of the lecture theatre, “and said, and i quote ‘Staff Sergeant Mazzello and, by extension, the entire Mazzello family, unashamedly and grossly benefit from the very systemic injustices that they claim to oppose’... I’ve gotta to say Miss Stewart, you’ve really outdone yourself”

Elsie stopped walking and turned to face him, smirking slightly, “And you’ve committed it to memory? Easy Street, I’m impressed.”

“Well I do try.” he said with an air of cockiness. Elsie laughed a little, somewhat surprised that he was still attempting to charm her.

“Now, if you excuse me,” she said looking at her watch, “I have a train to catch.” she began to walk away but a warm hand grabbed her wrist, she turned to face Joe, she wasn’t going to shake him that easily. Not today.

“Are you going via Edinburgh? I’ve got a car waiting if you want a ride, maybe we could get a drink.”

Elsie rolled her eyes, was he really going to do the whole prince charming act? She thought for a moment… a drink did sound good, and she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t have questions for the ambassador.

“Alright then, just one drink.” Joe was taken aback slightly, thinking he might have had to try a little harder to convince her.

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