At Least I'm Not Trying To Be Someone Else. No One Likes Me When I'm Myself. *I* Like You When You Are

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Song: jungle - Emma Louise

Sunday Snippet

I have survived the last week and a half! (Somehow). And I come bearing a snippet from a now completed, slightly-longer-than-it-was-supposed-to-be 'experimental oneshot'. I just need to edit the mess offline mode made of my document, but hopefully I'll get to share it soon. (People following the progress of the childhood friends fic will also be pleased to know that I've been working on that too.)

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With intent, Felice chucked the cardigan she was holding in her hands at Nils. He squawked and lifted his arms to protect himself, spilling water everywhere in the process. “What the fuck was that for?” he cried, shaking his wet hair out of his face and laying the glass down on the table. “Fuck’s sake, Felice. I’m all wet now.”

“You asked Simon?” she demanded, rounding the table and sitting down in the armchair opposite them.

Nils wiped his hands on his t-shirt and sent her a scathing look. Very used to Nils, Felice just glared back at him until he sighed. “Yes. I asked Simon. So what?”

“So what?” Felice’s voice went shrill and Wille felt like he might be missing something.

“Yeah,” Nils said. “So what.”

“So,” Felice said, slowly and deliberately. “Simon is off limits.”

Nils scoffed and leant back into the sofa again. “Not any more, he’s not. He got rid of the dead weight didn’t he? Free as a bird. And therefore back on the table.”

“Nils,” Felice said, her tone warning. And then, for some reason, her eyes very pointedly moved to Wille and back to Nils. “That wasn’t why he was off limits.”

writing is hard but coming up with a cunty title and catchy summary will slay even god's strongest soldier

favorite office moments

been missing them :(

Colour Study ✨️ Young Royals Wilhelm and Simon

{More Artwork | Socials and Prints}

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I find the auction scene during the sit in very interesting

On the surface it’s a great bit of tension breaking comedy, but really it’s an excellent example the show’s class commentary.

Simon is disgusted by the whole thing, not because he doesn’t want the rules lifted but because it’s a bunch of privileged snobs role-playing oppression.

The auction proves this.

Instead of behaving like a true unified protest force and sharing the small amount of food and drink equally so that everyone has something. Or prioritising the people with more need - like diabetics for example, they instead set up an auction.

Because in their lives resources are not shared, resources are a product that goes to the person willing to spend the most money.

It’s also interesting that the auction signals the point at which the sit in stops being teens role playing oppression and starts being the Hillerska teens indulging in the peer pressure and underlying threat of sexual violence that has always been there

Sunday Snippet

I have survived the last week and a half! (Somehow). And I come bearing a snippet from a now completed, slightly-longer-than-it-was-supposed-to-be 'experimental oneshot'. I just need to edit the mess offline mode made of my document, but hopefully I'll get to share it soon. (People following the progress of the childhood friends fic will also be pleased to know that I've been working on that too.)

-

With intent, Felice chucked the cardigan she was holding in her hands at Nils. He squawked and lifted his arms to protect himself, spilling water everywhere in the process. “What the fuck was that for?” he cried, shaking his wet hair out of his face and laying the glass down on the table. “Fuck’s sake, Felice. I’m all wet now.”

“You asked Simon?” she demanded, rounding the table and sitting down in the armchair opposite them.

Nils wiped his hands on his t-shirt and sent her a scathing look. Very used to Nils, Felice just glared back at him until he sighed. “Yes. I asked Simon. So what?”

“So what?” Felice’s voice went shrill and Wille felt like he might be missing something.

“Yeah,” Nils said. “So what.”

“So,” Felice said, slowly and deliberately. “Simon is off limits.”

Nils scoffed and leant back into the sofa again. “Not any more, he’s not. He got rid of the dead weight didn’t he? Free as a bird. And therefore back on the table.”

“Nils,” Felice said, her tone warning. And then, for some reason, her eyes very pointedly moved to Wille and back to Nils. “That wasn’t why he was off limits.”