#even though Cambridge cancelled them

[pastelwhile-art]

it'd absolutely make my day too some makokuu from you (i loved that illustration of them im insane about them)

what about some domestic makokuu 👀 them spending time together at home :3 no pressure ofc

Help I know I asked for saiki k requests TWO months ago and I had a really fun idea for an illustration, but my brain is a smooth cube. so that idea stays up in the air.

For now take a really quick silly crack doodle about one of the many possibilities I think Kusuke/Makoto telling Saiki/Teruhashi would go. Spoiler alert: it’s hilariously horrible.

(Saiki thinks they’re messing with them and Teruhashi is seething. Are they pranking them? Who knows.)

And ya know what? Beneath the cut take my redesigns of these guys and my notes for them because I made several months ago ‘cause I haven’t touched them since :(

Warning: I talk a lot.

A quick note! These designs aren’t meant to say ‘fix’ the original-they’re just for fun! Even if I think elements of mine look better, clearly the original works and are well loved. Also I’m not especially fond of these anyways JAJSJANW

Saiki doesn’t change much other than his palette is a more balanced. Also I really like designing hair, and wanted the idea that Saiki really tries to sleek it down to something very generic and unassuming, but the hairpins get stuck in the way and his hair sorta moves outwards from there. Continuing the idea that his powers make him subtly less normal. It also accidentally made him look A LOT more like his parents, oops.

Also I drew a comparison from his canon hair to his redesign, because I didn’t think it was particularly clear until side by side.

Also I actually gave this one a proper illustration lol.

Teruhashi’s design was actually partly inspired by @lu-kario’s human mlp designs because they’re really good :^ She’s also pretty standard except her hair and color (which I’m not too satisfied with.)

I like the idea of the Teruhashi Siblings being a bit supernatural, so along with weird shine effects, they also get constant wind effects! Like in all the anime where they have flowing hair at just the right times even though it wasn’t windy at all before? Yeah! Except that’s more Makoto’s thing while the shine stays Kokomi’s.

Also what ethnicity are these characters now? To me they’re still Japanese, but I think people don’t ever use a range of skin tones for the same ethnicity. But really these are just fun designs I didn’t really think too hard.

Kusuke! He was the first one I did and an absolute PAIN. He was also the reason I did this, because as much as I love Saiki K and respect the author, I just got to know what is going on with his debut clothes.

Well not like I did that much better… Kusuke is stuck with four alt palettes because I can’t decide which shade of weird yellow and purple to make his head and gown (I’ve resolved to draw his hair a different shade of yellow in every drawing.) His eyes also match Saiki with purple eyes, because I think they look better lmao.

Also, that’s his Cambridge gown he’s wearing. And fun fact-they have a great amount of rules on what color does gowns get an accent of based off what subject people are taking! I decided to not think too hard on that and just gave him a better looking gown.

And I really like the hair I gave him, the original to me just lacks a bit of anime shape style. Also his headgear is shaped like a graduation hat now lol.

He also has a silly little doodle for what he’d look like with his lab coat. It’s not here, but I like to think he always puts a ponytail up!

Last and also least xp, Makoto! He’s uhh about the same with the points I said with Teruhashi. Just very angular now. I swear I tried to design a better fashion for Makoto but I just ended up with the same.

I tried to style his hair how Japanese celebrities would, but I don’t know if I succeeded. His hair as I said is constantly blowing to the left lol. Also he has a hair clip now! In my head Kusuke gives him a telepathy canceller disguised as a hairclip.

Also anyone can draw or get inspired by these designs if you wanted lol Though I don’t really like these, I still use these hairstyle for drawing them cause I think they look cool lol.

#saiki k #pwoodle #kusuke saiki #makoto teruhashi #makokuu #kokomi teruhashi #kusuo saiki #design #help under the cut is LONG. #but if you want to see local pained artist tries to do character design go ahead #ALSo. I still love Makokuu and saiki k. #I bounce from fandom to fandom but my fandoms are still dear to me #and i have a lot of ideas of how Makokuu would work JANANEENE #then telling saiki/saiki finding out is one of my personal favourite tropes for this ship #because it fits so well with canon and has so many possibilities #I have a whole. canon chapter length art idea but. that is too long #I wish I could 😔👌 #but if anyone is curious 👀👀?? #I may share my headcanon and many ideas #saiki k redesigns #is that a tag??

[goldenpinof]

Wait what’s the situation with Oxford and Cambridge? I know the dates had to be moved because they were outside of term time for the unis there so no point doing it when there were no students but… isn’t that Dan’s teams fault?? Not the promoters?? Im not sure how it works so please explain to me because surely there’s a bit of collective responsibility there. Like multiple, interconnecting failures have occurred over the course of the tour

considering how small Dan's team was (3 managers that actually could make decisions, but also had other clients as well (correct me if i'm wrong though!)) i'm almost sure booking was on promoters. also because they were the ones who suggested moving the shows to February and "they've decided to do this" in the beginning of September. even if Dan's managers were involved in making calls (reaching out to the venues) and signing papers, etc., etc, it's kinda promoter's job to look at the list of dates and think about how you as a promoter are gonna handle each show for them to sell out. and if you see that something isn't adding up (September and uni terms) you have to stop this at the stage of development and NOT after everything is already approved, printed, and went to sales, and after people started complaining. it's not Dan's job to look at the calendar and think what months are better for what shows. he is paying others to do that. anyways.

my main problem was the time it was told and how it was told. Dan told us about it on Sept 4th, in a liveshow. the Oxford show was initially booked for Sept 13th, Cambridge for Sept 22th. so 8-9 days to change your plans, basically. it got worse though. people had to wait for official emails for another 2 days, and those emails didn't even have the text written correctly ("the show has been rescheduled to Saturday 11th 2023" Saturday 11th of what, bro?). and i'm 99% sure it's not AXS providing texts for the emails they send. so it's either the promoter (AEG) or Dan's managers were taking so long and still fucked up. and i'd bet on promoters, otherwise why are they even getting paid? there's a chain of people these things should go through to be approved and posted/sent. and promoters are 100% involved in these approvals. but for some reason there's always something done wrong in communication and in marketing. the promoter communicates with people (us) and makes decisions related to the shows, we saw that clearly during the Auckland show. so they are very much responsible for rescheduled and therefore booked shows. and for cancelled shows. i'm not saying Dan's managers were innocent during the tour, far from it. but why would Dan need promoters if his managers could do the job? bruh.

#corrections are welcome #answered #wad.oxford #wad.cambridge

[storiesofsvu]

Ok you know I’m a whore for angst but since you begged for fluff….

How about #32 “I never knew I could miss someone this much” and a character we don’t see much of… like Liz Donnelly (have fun with it)

Liz Donnelly x reader Warnings: language, all fluff folks.

You'd known when you and Liz had first gotten involved that she was a career woman through and through. She worked long hours, often longer than required, bringing work home with her and sometimes it bled into the weekends. She loved her career and the life that it had brought her, even if it meant babysitting reckless prosecutors on the regular. You had no qualms with this, your own work was important, and it made so that the time you and Liz did spend together was just that much better and more treasured. She never cancelled dates, if she said she was going to be there, she was there and never a moment late. She cherished you, and was incredibly thankful for your patience. If you came downstairs on Sunday morning to find her working through a case file rather than the Sunday crossword, you simply left a kiss on the top of her head before heading into the kitchen. You'd make sure she had fresh coffee topped up and make an easy breakfast for her to eat without having to stop her work before curling up on the couch with a book until she was finished what she needed.

One of the large benefits that came with Liz being such a prominent attorney and bureau chief were the many dinners and galas. While some hated on them, they were always lavish events of free food and drinks, socializing your way through Manhattan as the night went on. Liz had been incredibly proud at the first one she'd brought you to, you not only held your own but proved your wit in a friendly debate with Alex. She loved to show you off at these events, making sure you always had time to take yourself shopping (on her dime of course) the week before. Having you on her arm was the highlight of her night.

The downside of being with someone like Liz was that she often had to travel for work. You'd been surprised when it had first come up, thinking that she worked in the DA's office and occasionally the courtroom. But Elizabeth Donnelly was a name well known in the legal world all across the country. She often guest lectured at colleges and universities, travelling out of state often, spending weeks at a time in Cambridge. You were currently in the midst of one of those weeks, though at least this time it was only five days. Liz had left you with keys to her brownstone, insisting that it was closer to your work that you should stay while she was gone, besides, who else was going to water the plants?

So you made the space a little more your own that week, a couple of work books scattered on the dining room table, a novel on the coffee table that you'd slowly been working through and a few items in the fridge that you couldn't live without. You had a habit of snooping through Liz's closets to find a cozy sweater that had a lingering of her perfume, pulling it on as the warm days morphed into chilly nights, rain often pattering the windows of the brownstone.

It was one of those rainy evenings, you had homemade stew sitting in the crock pot all day, knowing that it would hit the spot at the end of the day. The smells wafted through the house, your stomach beginning to rumble at the thought of dinner. You knew Liz was due home that night but were unaware of the time, so you'd placed one of your favorite vinyl's on, a soft instrumental playlist floating through the house while you started to tidy up. You made sure the sheets were changed, fresh clean and cozy ones waiting, pillows extra fluffed and laundry all done. The kitchen was practically spotless, clean dishes all put away, only a bottle of red wine aerating next to two glasses on the counter. You folded a couple of blankets over the back of the couch and picked up a couple more things in there before you retreated back to kitchen. It wasn't quite dinner time yet, but you could always enjoy a glass of wine while you waited for the timer to go off. Distracted in your own imagination you missed the sound of the door opening and Liz moving through the house. You let out a little squeak when she wrapped around your waist from behind and she chuckled softly, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." She greeted and you turned in her arms, greeting her with a proper kiss, "smells delicious."

"Thought it was best for a chilly day."

"Second best." She smiled, stealing another kiss, "getting to come home to you is the best. I never knew I could miss someone this much."

"Liz..." you whined, your cheeks heating at her words, "it wasn't even a full week."

"I know. Next time you're coming with me, no objections accepted."

"None needed." You smiled, kissing her softly, "I love you."

"I love you more sweetheart."

____________________ @anya-casablanca @ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @alexusonfire @nobody-important1212

#elizabeth donnelly #elizabeth donnelly x reader #law and order svu #liz donnelly #elizabeth donnelly fluff #law and order svu drabble #drabble #blurb #svu

[crazedlunatic]

Matt & Adrian’s First Date

“I honestly didn’t think you were going to show up. That’s why I suggested the beach… since, you know, you spent two months cancelling within two hours of the date.”

Adrian sat down on the ground in front of him, looking apologetic but not actually apologizing. “I didn’t even know there were beaches here.”

“How did you not know there were beaches here?” Cookie Guy, or Matt, looked at him like he was crazy. “There’s seven… although, honestly I would only consider three of them real beaches myself. Massachusetts has a weird definition of beach.”

“I probably did not know because I’m not from here and spend 90% of my life at work or school.” Adrian shrugged.

“So, you don’t live here live here?”

“I’ve been here about a year and a half. I go to Harvard.”

“You were giving me a hard time about my age and you’re still in undergrad?” Matt looked amused.

“No. Harvard Law.”

“Oh. Wow.” Matt’s eyes widened. “Okay then.”

“Yep. A pretty guy who is smart too. Love the trope.” Adrian sighed.

“School isn’t really my thing.” Matt said. “But good for you.”

“What is your thing?”

“Apparently playing date tag with a stranger who stole my cookie.” Matt shrugged.

Those freaking blue eyes.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“There is no way you had things come up for two straight months, by the way. So why did you even come?”

Adrian narrowed his yes.

“I mean… I even had to get two shifts covered only for you to cancel… that meant I had to work St. Patrick’s Day and I really wanted to get drunk, so…” Matt said. “It’s literally the first actual holiday I’ve had off in three years… well, would have been.”

“Your job sounds like it sucks.”

“It pays well.” Matt shrugged.

“Are you even old enough to legally drink?” Adrian asked him.

“Do you think you’re better than everyone else or just me?” Matt titled his head.

“Wh—”

“You aren’t very nice. I thought the whole cookie thing may have been a fluke because we all have bad days… but you don’t seem that much better today.”

“Are you even old enough to date somebody out of undergrad?”

“Okay.” Matt stood. “Have a good day, Adrian. Watch out for sharks. Probably aren’t any at this beach but they saw three yesterday in Cape Cod.”

“I’m sorry. Don’t go.” Adrian looked at him.

“Why did you keep rescheduling for two months to sit here and do this? Do you think because you go to Harvard Law and you’ve got a nice face, that you can treat people however you want?”

“Because I don’t do this very well.” Adrian said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well with that attitude, I’m not surprised.” Matt sat back down. “Where are you from?”

“Colorado.”

“Denver?”

“No.”

“Aspen?”

“No.” Adrian scrunched his nose up. “Boulder.”

“What is even there? Nobody can ever tell me.”

“A lot of mountains, a lot of parks, a lot of trails, and a lot of skiing… among other things.” Adrian said. “Where are you from?”

“Here.” Matt shrugged. “But you already know what’s here.”

“Yeah, some of it.” Adrian laughed a little bit. “Honestly the only time I really get to see any of it is on winter and summer break.”

“You don’t go home?”

“I went back when my grandmother died two months ago but that was it… and I basically left after the funeral.” Adrian looked thoughtful.

“Oh my God. Is that why you cancelled?”

“Just the second time.” Adrian looked around. It wasn’t a typical beach… but it was still very nice… and very Cambridge.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Where do you work?”

“CMJ.”

“Oh God.” Matt groaned.

“What?” Adrian asked, somewhat dismissively.

“Oh, it’s great. My dad is really close friends with one of the owners, though, and he gives me a hard time.” Matt laughed.

“… Which one? Jeff?”

“That guy is an idiot. No. Bob. Er, Robert? I don’t know what people call him at work. My dad just calls him Robbie but it feels weird to call him that.”

“Your poor dad.” Adrian said.

“No. Bob’s great.” Matt shook his head. “He’s a really good person. He can be a bit of a dick, though. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to go to CMJ to…”

“To what?”

“Give him stuff for my dad.”

It was kind of true.

If by stuff you meant following him home after bad trials and keeping him from getting beat up in the office when giving criminals bad news.

Technicalities.

“What does your dad do? Is he in law?”

“No. He’s the Chief of Police. When I have nothing to do, he sends me on errands… I mean, he could just make Pete do it but I’m the youngest and we always get the short end of the stick… even though I am taller by half an inch. Which I remind him daily.”

“I’m the oldest sibling.”

“Yeah, I can totally see that.” Matt nodded.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Adrian laughed, not sure whether he should be offended.

“The oldest sibling always thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

Adrian opened his mouth and then closed it.

“You didn’t even disagree. Oh my God.” Matt rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Four. Including a twin.”

“Oh God. Do I have to worry about you switching up on me?”

“Well that would be a silly thing to worry about because she is a girl, so no worries there. My youngest brother does look a lot like me when I was his age, though.”

“I am the youngest of four… and all of us are boys.”

“Your poor mother.”

“Everyone always says that. I mean, we were all pretty good, though.”

“Well you had a police officer for a dad.” Adrian pointed out.

“Same as any other dad. We just saw him a lot less on holidays.” Matt shrugged. “Plus, I basically put them through hell from fifteen to eighteen so I was the only trouble child… My mom used to call me ‘Trouble.’”

“What, was that last year?” Adrian teased, but this time Matt could tell he wasn’t doing it to be rude.

“Ha. No. And quit fishing. I’m not telling you.”

“I’m 23. I’m not going to be very happy if you are still a teenager or only 20.”

“I am not 20.”

“21?”

Matt shrugged.

“22?”

Matt shrugged again.

“There is no way you are older than 23.”

“I dunno.” Matt singsonged.

“If I was this anxious about a date with a 20 year old, I am going to be so pissed.”

“Let’s go do something.” Matt hopped up and held out his hand to help Adrian up.

As soon as Adrian was standing, a kid came and tackled Matt, arms going around his legs.

“THANK YOU MATTTTT!”

Adrian looked around, very confused, as a woman rushed up after the small girl.

“Mommy, it’s Matt and he saved my cat. Matt Cat. Cat Matt.”

“Sweetie, please have boundaries and he’s not even working.” The woman said.

“Nuh uh, Mommy. They’re always working. It’s in the rule book.”

“That rule book actually doesn’t exist. I was joking.” Matt said as the little girl let him go.

“At any rate, thank you again for saving her cat.” The girl’s mom said.

“Who doesn’t want to climb a million foot tree in the rain to save a cat?” Matt shrugged.

“You’re the best.” The girl looked at Matt like he’d hung the moon… and also kind of like a child-stalker.

“Okay. Tell him thank you one more time and then we have to leave because he’s on a date.”

“But they’re both boys, Mommy.”

“Well sometimes boys like boys.” The woman said. “Tell him bye.”

“Bye, Matt! Have fun kissing!”

The woman mouthed ‘I’m so sorry’ before going after her daughter, who had run off.

“What was that about?” Adrian asked. “Random girls call you when their cat is stuck in a tree?”

“I mean… not usually. My assumption is the firemen were elsewhere?” Matt shrugged. “Honestly, though, I’m pretty sure she’s in love with me. Any time she sees me she does the same thing—makes some excuse to run over and hug me… but her Mom is close friends with one of my brothers so it’s kind of hard to say, ‘I’m tired, sorry.’”

“How many girls have crushes on you?”

“What age range are we talking?” Matt asked.

“How many age ranges have crushes on you?”

“Well, you’ve got your toddler range, your kid range, your preteen range, your—”

“Okay, okay. You’re cute and likable. I get it.” Adrian laughed. “What are we going to do?”

“Are you hungry?” Matt asked.

“Not yet.” Adrian shook his head.

“Have you been to the Museum of Bad Art? It’s in the Somerville Theater.”

“How far away is Somerville?”

“You really haven’t been around much, have you?” Matt stopped outside of a very sporty Honda Civic.

“Oh God. Is this yours?”

“Yes. It is. I was too lazy to fill up my work car. I’m actually very selective about when I drive it.”

“Well, it’s very nice… how far away are we going, though? You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” Adrian was mostly joking but gave Matt a look.

“It’s less than ten minutes away.”

“Okay.” Adrian got into the car.

Honestly, if people were coming up and thanking him for saving cats, he must not have been that creepy.

…

“That was ridiculous. I mean, I hadn’t been before either. But wow.”

“I don’t know. I was kind of partial to the ferret in a brothel one.”

“Not the creepy cat that looks like it was about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance? That or go off to war?” Matt looked at him. “Or that torso phone? I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be being murdered or having an orgasm.”

“Yeah, that was creepier than the cat. I liked the sign that said the gallery was protected by fake security cameras.”

“Like 60% of all security cameras are fake.”

“How do you know that?” Adrian asked.

“Because companies are cheap as all get out.” Matt shrugged. “So… are you hungry yet?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. Can I just kiss you now then?”

“What?” Adrian looked at him, shocked.

“Well usually you wait until the end of the date but I’ve pretty much been thinking about it since the first time I saw you and—”

Adrian stepped up, kissing him mid-sentence.

“Oh. Okay. That was unexpected.”

Adrian smiled brightly.

“What if we just… go to my house and do that some more until you’re hungry?”  Matt asked.

“Okay.” Adrian got into the passenger seat of his car.

Sure, he’d literally had sex with one of his classmates two nights before. It wasn’t serious, though… Actually, Adrian was never very serious.

Although this did feel… different.

“To be honest, I haven’t been there in two and a half days and I had barely any sleep before I left so I’m not sure if it’s clean or not but…”

“I don’t plan to be looking at your tables or floors, Matt.”

…

Adrian woke up the next morning, comfortable and warm but having no idea where he was.

Neighborhood, anything.

He could remember making out with Matt, things getting heated, and then zip. Nada. Nothing.

He was still dressed, though, so that was good.

He stood and left Matt’s bedroom, walking into the living room. Matt was sitting in his pajamas and talking on his phone.

“I mean, I’m already pulling 64 hours next week and after tonight, I’ll be at 58 for this week… Theoretically, yeah, but nobody wants to do that… Logan, seriously, if you don’t give me my birthday and Christmas off, I am going to make your life a living hell until one of us dies—probably you because you’re older… Yeah, love you too asshole. Seriously. Birthday. And. Christmas. Fine. Bye.”

“That sounds like a very crazy work schedule.” Adrian said, coming over.

Matt didn’t even jump. He just shrugged when Adrian sat down next to him.

“You knew I was back there, didn’t you?”

Matt nodded.

“I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Matt nodded again.

“We didn’t have sex right?”

“Nope.” Matt shook his head.

Adrian nodded his head once, looking at Matt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. A first date doesn’t have to end with sex.” Matt shrugged. “You must have been tired. You were just out. I was almost worried you’d passed out from lack of oxygen.”

“Oh God.” Adrian’s eyes widened in horror.

“I’m kidding. You fell asleep when I went to use the bathroom.” Matt smiled.

“Your pillow was comfortable.”

“Yeah. I’m kind of partial to it.” Matt’s smile grew and he looked into Adrian’s eyes.

“I… uhm…” Adrian bit his lip and looked at him. “I really enjoyed yesterday with you.”

“I had fun too.” Matt smiled again.

Adrian leaned forward, his hand resting on Matt’s thigh.

“Before we do… this.” Matt sat up. “I have to admit something. I was just not going to tell you, but…I probably should.”

“If you tell me you’re straight and married with children, I might kill you.” Adrian said.

“We, uhm… met before.”

“At the coffee shop. I know. You gave me the cookie.”

“Well I almost gave you something earlier that day too.”

“What?” Adrian looked confused. “Is that an inuendo?”

“No!” Matt said quickly. “I almost gave you a ticket.”

“You wha— Oh my God. I knew I know you from somewhere!”

“Yeah. I should have told you at the coffee shop but… I didn’t want you to just turn me down again.” Matt admitted. “And then I was going to just not tell you at all but… I had a lot of fun with you yesterday and if this goes somewhere, I didn’t want us to start out with a lie.”

“They were on lunch by the way.”

“I know. Ugh, they always are from 1 to 2… but people have died going 20 miles over the speed limit several times, so…”

Adrian leaned forward and kissed him. He then pulled away quickly. “Hey! You gave me a hard time but you parked illegally outside of the coffee shop!”

“I know, I know. I didn’t know the line would be so long and honestly, they never care when I do it. Actually, it makes their shop look safer. It’s not in the best part of town.” Matt shrugged.

“You’re a cop.”

“Police officer.”

“You’re a police officer.” Adrian repeated.

“I promise I’m not a buzzkill at parties… I am, however, the one that barely drinks so I can make sure everyone gets home safe.” Matt said. “Even if you don’t see it, I will always have a gun. And I’ll always walk in before you because it’s what I do with my team out there and it’s kind of habit. I will hold it open for you still, though. I probably just won’t be looking at you while I do it… and I’ll always want to sit facing the entrance because I like to know who and what’s around me.”

Surely he’s not super young if he’s got his own team and goes in first… He must be good.

“I might be able to handle that.” Adrian gave him a small smile. “Are there perks?”

“Donuts.” Matt grinned. “Seriously. I’m not even joking… although I’ll eat any pastry. That and girl scout cookies will shut the office down.”

“What is the best part?” Adrian asked.

“The kids. My partner and I always stop at the lemonade stands and when it’s slow, we’ll play ball with kids in the neighborhood… also, when it’s slow when we work in the winter we sled with them.”

He is just too freaking adorable, Adrian thought.

“Worst part?”

“There’s a few worst parts.” Matt admitted. “Like being the first one to an accident and having to hold someone as they’re dying… coming up on an accident from speeding and seeing mangled bodies of people who didn’t have on seatbelts—especially kids. And… having to kill people.”

“You’ve had to kill people?”

“Twice. It really sucks knowing that you’ve ended a life even if it was to save someone else.”

Adrian nodded, frowning.

“The pros definitely outweigh the cons. All the emergency services are like your second family. Well, I guess I have actual real family in the police station too… And Shop with A Cop at Christmas is the best although I usually end up spending my own money too, not just what we’ve raised…I mean, basically anything with kids and I’m down. They’re so funny.”

“You don’t have a handcuff kink, right?”

“Oh God, no. Besides, handcuffs are disgusting. Everything from cocaine to feces on them. Anyone who would willingly put those on is crazy.” Matt shuddered. “Plus, I’m pretty vanilla. Very vanilla actually.”

“Are you going to tell me how old you are yet?” Adrian asked.

“Eventually I will.” Matt nodded.  “But not yet.”

“But you are 21 or over?”

“Yep!” Matt said cheerfully. “So… you’re taking me out on the next date, right?”

“Yes… but only if you come back to bed with me now.”

“Don’t have to say that twice.” Matt hopped up.

“Hey… where’s your gun now?” Adrian asked, crawling onto the bed.

“Safe where nobody can get to it. Literally. In a safe.” Matt crawled on top of his, unbuttoning your shirt. “You’ll definitely be doing a walk of shame back into your apartment tonight. Sorry.”

“I have a feeling it will be worth it.” Adrian pulled Matt down on top of him.

#adrian/matt

[etraudvenus]

Artist Report - Identity

Even though in the 1990s there was much work done by trans scholars with the mission to correct wrongly identified stories of trans people under the academic cisgender bias, sadly Claude Cahun seems to have slipped through the cracks as they didn’t specifically show a strong desire to have a binary transition, instead their identity is much closer to what we would call non-binary nowadays, which explains why to this day academic sources continue to push their identity as a woman’s performance, despite the fact they described themself very clearly outside of binary constraints. In their autobiography, Claude writes “Shuffle the cards. Masculine? Feminine? It depends on the situation, Neuter is the only gender that always suits me.” (2008, pp. 151) and “me, he she - or simply it” (2008, pp. 200) which is still relevant to gender discourse to this day, upholding the freeing and simultaneously personal singularity and gender plurality in the ever-growing use of they/them pronouns, and admirably consolidating the reality and existence of genderqueer individuals dating back to the 1930s.

In their article for the Art Journal, Jordan Reznick (2022) interprets their artwork as “trans-before-transsexuality”, attributing the artist with a visionary mindset towards gender - as if foreshadowing the current transmedicalist climate of the last decade - Cahun conveyed a liberating gender expression preceding the societal partiality to transhood that fits in the mold of innocuous corporeality that passes under the radar as cisgender, usually by mirroring cis performances of gender and ratifying them as the only correct way to present yourself as not to draw attention to your transness. In my view of this, Cahun’s self-portraits are loud and proud of their genderqueerness, portraying stereotypically masculine or feminine assets in the way that best suits them and the concept of the particular art piece, with a palpable lack of worry for a cisgender audience that might be disturbed from the fragile idea that feminine/masculine elements are innate to a person’s biology or sense of gender within the binary.

From their honors thesis, Miranda DeBrine (2019) demonstrates Claude’s inspiration from artistic movements like Dadaism and Surrealism (pp. 17-18), and scholars like Sigmund Freud and Havelock Ellis (pp. 19-20). In their analysis of 15 artworks by Claude (and also often their partner Marcel Moore), I’d like to mention one of their most recognizable works Self-portrait (reflected image in mirror, chequered jacket) (1928). Miranda notes the influence in the composition of a woman commonly portrayed passively looking at their reflection in a vanity mirror, contrasted by Claude looking directly at the viewer with “a defensive and accusatory gaze” (pp. 29). Their body language seems to show a brief moment of Claude meeting eyes with someone and pulling their jacket towards their body before presumably turning their head and walking away; in disparity, their reflection on the mirror appears to be opening the jacket and revealing their body instead. As I see it, this portrait represents the defensive feeling after locking eyes with a cisgender person that is seemingly looking you up and down to decipher your gender in their own binary perspective of it, and - in the reflection - the underlying recognition of how that process might, in the observer’s mind, strip you down of your clothes and reduce you to biological features and stereotypically gendered cues as they see fit.

Cahun, C. et al. (2008) Disavowals or cancelled confessions. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 

Cahun, C. (2018) Self-portrait (reflected image in mirror, chequered jacket), Elephant. London. Available at: https://elephant.art/exploring-arts-modern-couples-with-a-relationship-expert/self-portrait-reflected-in-mirror-chequered-jacket-1928/ (Accessed: November 27, 2022).

DeBrine, M. (2019) The Exploration of a Nonbinary Gender Identity in the Visual Work of Claude Cahun. Honors Undergraduate Theses. Available at: https://stars.library.ucf.edu/honorstheses/617 (Accessed: November 27, 2022).

Reznick, J. (2022) “Through the guillotine mirror: Claude Cahun’s theory of trans against the void,” Art Journal, 81(3), pp. 53–69. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1080/00043249.2022.2110440.

#2nd year

[youaremysunshine-court]

My motto right now: do your best and Cambridge will do the rest

#assessments #blue's blues #cambridge has taken the place of god in my life #im freaking out so hard rn so just gonna rewatch the sab traailer #im have legitimate shivers and shudders but that may just be the coffee but its also the fatc that i still have exams #even though Cambridge cancelled them #and i still have to do exams #except they call them assessments #but like i will fail either way no matter what theyre called #so does it really matter #because i have so much to revise and start next week #and oh god oh gods ive barely finished my maths syllabus because i decided to take more subjects than i had to #amd im studying on my own #and life is hard #and ooh the jitters have moved to my legs and nothing is going well and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck #i cant remember the formula for 2 4 dnph or tollens and fehlings solutions and my chem teacher just said he needed us to score at least an a #and i dont want to disappoint my teachers theyre all so lovable and i cant bear to let them down and shit im going to arent i #well cant be helped i suppose #ill just fucking pray to cambridge that the grade boundaries will magically lower themselves #and cambridge will ignore me like they did to my gsce rs exam #and then i can cry about it knowing it was my fault for watching anime throughout bio class #and i can also cry about the fact that well shit people are still going around without masks when i have to do my FUCKING BOARDS in a week #because humans are fucking insensitive idiots #well anyway that didnt help #ranting about only makes it worse good to know #maybe ill go write an essay or something

[simkjrs]

How about Kusuke for that ask meme? Would love to hear more of your thoughts on that little freak 😊

favorite thing about them

im kind of obsessed with his misanthropic mad scientist ways. theres nothing funnier about kuusuke than his complete lack of consideration for the happiness or quality of life for the rest of the human race. just look at him <3

least favorite thing about them

i hate all the incest jokes baked into his character. asou shuuichi had a perfectly interesting and compelling guy without that so why did he have to ruin it.

aside from that i think its really sad when he regularly invades saiki's privacy & bodily autonomy (such as adding a trigger to saiki's second limiter device without telling him. someone introduce kuusuke to the concept of informed consent please). i do think that this is one of the most interesting points of conflict between him and saiki tho so i wish asou shuuichi did something more with it where saiki gets a character arc learning how to assert his boundaries after living his whole life unable to respect others boundaries (due to x ray and mindreading) and without others respecting his (see: his dad and kuusuke)

favorite line

brOTP

i <3 saiki and kuusukes fucked beyond all repair brothers relationship i love how they care about each other but this fixes nothing and makes everything worse. its so interesting how they shaped each other growing up, and how despite resenting each other they also give each other things they cant get from anyone else -- kuusuke finding a "playmate" who can challenge him and stimulate his creativity, kusuo having someone he can rely on when it comes down to a crisis (such as his limiter breaking or needing to find a way to stop japan from being destroyed by a super volcano explosion).

of course, the fact that kuusuke cant be relied on in any other circumstance is also what makes the relationship interesting i think. like if kuusuke isn't helping saiki fix a problem, then he's the one causing all of saiki's problems. i really wish that we got more exploring their relationship.

that said it's really hard to enjoy them whole heartedly when all the incest jokes keep sneaking in. sorry i keep bringing this up but i really do hate them so much. like either commit to the incest/harrassment plotline and do your best to thoughtfully & respectfully portray the consequences of that trauma, or just leave it out. dont make it into a joke LOL ... literally why does anyone ever think this is funny

OTP

kuusuke x his pure & innocent disregard for humanity <3

nOTP

i see people shipping him with teruhashi makoto sometimes and its like ... why ... would you think that putting two creeps together would fix anything about them. they wouldnt make each other worse in a fun or interesting way. and they wouldnt even be funny

random headcanon

i think that kuusuke stopped resenting saiki shortly after he left home to go to cambridge because suddenly he was the smartest most genius most admired person in the room again but it was so boring because no one could challenge him and there was nothing to surpass. since life felt very boring & meaningless like this, i think that made him reevaluate his relationship with his brother and he realized that as much as it frustrated him to lose it made him happy to have a goal to always strive for. so i think after that, his ill will towards saiki mostly disappeared ... though he still has deadly serious competitive intent.

that said i think saiki never realized kuusuke's change of heart because kuusuke invented the telepathy canceler. and i think kuusuke wasnt interested in correcting saiki about how he felt now, and i think kuusuke didnt give much (if any) consideration to how it would make saiki feel to keep living under the misconception that his brother still hated him but had simply found a way to hide his plotting, forever. in conclusion: kuusuke is kind of the worst. LOL

unpopular opinion

ive already said all my unpopular opinions. my extremely niche opinion is that if saiki kuusuke and enoshima junko were born into the same world they would perfectly cancel each other out because what they both wanted was to fulfill their boredom and what they both did to do that was raise the stakes on other people until they managed to stop them (or didnt). kuusuke and junko would become perfect rivals. they would be like bbc sherlock and moriarty if they were high schoolers. they would be like L and light if L was completely amoral and just devote to winning the case for the sake of winning, and light was also completely amoral and just killing people to see what would happen. and they would be exactly like this post

song i associate with them

HMM i don't really have one. if i had to pick one... primadonna by marina. LOL

favorite picture of them

i cant pick one so you get three.

#ask #ask game #long post

[the-empress-7]

How much longer does the BRF intend to live under the fear of upsetting a person who quit on them and brought them nothing grief since then?

I don’t think they fear upsetting him. I think they just don’t want to feed their PR. After all, William also allowed JH to come back for the statue thing. It’s his mother. Just like PC is still his father.

I think they’re in the “you don’t matter enough for me to publicly condemn you phase”. You and I both know that they’re already milking the whole “the RF is racist and abusive towards us”. I don’t think it’s smart to keep on allowing them to twist their words.

He’s D’s son and he gets to go the the statue unveiling. He’s PC’s son and he gets a mention when he’s talking about both his father and sons. It’s the context in which he fits. No one is going out of their way to include him. Case in point: Lucas and August got baptised but I don’t think any invitation crossed the Atlantic. What about Christmas with the RF? Even if the main event was cancelled, the Wales, Wessexes and the Cambridges visited (Anne didn’t visit because of Tim’s COVID).

I am still mad about Harry being in Prince Philip's posthumous documentary, but the fact that Catherine* as Philip's successor wasn't.

The Queen manages to do just fine without referring to Andrew even though he is her son. So why can't Charles?

*Even though we discussed this topic to death back then, I am not changing my mind on this. So please do not sent me counter arguments. Thank you.

[heshoes]

Uni Daze

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: Slow burn, smut, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Pairing: Harry Styles x OFC ( face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 4 (word count 11.2k)

Harry

Usually a busy day keeps me grounded and out of any possible trouble that Michelle could help get me into, but today was different. It seems like whenever there was something toolook forward to, the day seems to drag and the minute and second hands on the clock move at a non existent pace. Any other day I would almost dread going to work the front desk in the first year halls though I know it had to be done. Today, however, I looked at it as four hours that I could use to talk to Rion.

There was a two hour gap in my time frame today due to a professor sending out a bullshit email telling us the reasons as to why his class was cancelled. He was one of the youngest professors at the university with a track record of hanging out with his student's. But what he did behind the closed doors with Lumen, the girl who lived down the hall from Michelle and I was none of my business.

After I'd taken the spare time to shower, change clothes, and read a chapter and a half ahead in my anatomy text I found myself antsy and ready to go to work, much to Michelle's amusement.

"Just sit down. You have twenty minutes left yet. Did you not have some kind of I'm an important person meeting that you could have went to? Or any equations that you could crack in hopes to surpass both Galileo and Einstein combined? Over achiever."

"Michelle, your grade mark average has been higher than mine since birth and I'm older than you."

“True. But I just don't put as much effort into it as you do."

"That's what makes it all the more annoying. No, I don't have any meetings lined up for senior class. You could be a part of it you know. All you have to do is come to a meeting."

"I'll pass on that. Thanks."

"It looks good on job applications."

"And so does First Class Honors at an Ivy League Uni." Michelle spoke, paying little attention to me as she smiled down at her phone. Ten minutes had passed before I stood from the couch, drawing Michelle's attention again. She smirked at me while shaking her head.

"I'm gonna walk. It's a nice night out, plus if I work a little earlier I get paid more and that doesn't hurt."

"No, I'm sure it doesn't. Especially if you're not really in it for the money in the first place, Hershey. Ask her out today, yeah?"

"I just enjoy talking to her. I don't want to ask her out. It's too soon. It's cliche."

"Says the man who was turned down once and then gave up completely. You don't have to date her Harrow, but stop lying to yourself. It gets you nowhere fast. Ask her to the party."

****

The walk to the first year halls was quicker than I expected. I wasn't sure if it was due to the distraction of the scenery change or my pace, but a fifteen minute stroll was cut down to one that only took ten. When I walked into the double doors I saw her again, seated at the front desk with her eyes focused on the pages of her book taking in each word with a lazy grin on her face.

“Hi Rion. How are you?" I asked somewhat loud, causing her to jump. "Sorry didn't mean to scare you."

“No, it’s fine. I didn't see you walking up. I should pay better attention sitting here. Sometimes I just get so engrossed in the words that I forget what's going on around me. How are you this evening?"

I grinned at her before running a hand through my hair and taking the hair tie that I'd stolen from Michelle off of my wrist before pulling it halfway up.

"I'm alright, but I think I asked you a question first.” Rion looked down at her half way finished novel that she had barely scratched the surface of on Monday and then smiled up at me as I made my way around the desk, taking the seat next to hers.

"I'm doing quite well actually. I have no real complaints." Her face dropped.

"That face that you're making is telling me that the last thing that you said was a lie. Clearly."

"Well..."

"Go on. Say it." I grinned while pushing my chair back and resting my feet on the shelf of the desk in front of us.

"My flatmate."

"Yeah?"

"She had company last night.” Rion's voice lowered to a whisper and her cheeks twinged the lightest shade of pink.

"And?"

"And they were very...loud. I didn't get much sleep and every time I had time between classes and I went back to my dorm to take a nap I would always oversleep. I could swear I was late to almost every class today, but my professors were kind of understanding. They all cut me a break because I'm new." Rion rested her head in her hands before she began to shake it back and forth. "I mean I don't want to be that girl who switches dorm flats because their flatmate makes them uncomfortable. She's a really nice girl you know?"

"Uh-huh." I chuckled. I didn't mean to laugh at her misfortune and bad day, but she looked so distressed while explaining it all. No wonder she was rushing about today.

"But I can't risk being late to class, or miss classes because her and her girlfriend insist on having loud goes at each other. My parents had to pay so much for tuition here and I'm working at least three jobs to pay the loans I've taken out myself."

"Yeah that's-Wait what did you say?"

"I said I'm working three jobs to pay off loans and my parents for school and-"

"Wait, no. Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off, but what did you say before that?"

"My flatmate and her girlfriend have loud goes at each other."

"Your flatmate is a girl?"

"Yes." Rion tilted her head, looking at me as if I'd lost it. When you live on campus, the dorms are usually co-ed, but the actual rooms aren't.

"And you said she had a girlfriend?" It wouldn't be her. It can't be.

"Yes she's a les-"

"Lesbian."

"Yeah. And it's not that, that makes me uncomfortable. I believe love is love no matter who you find it with. It's just that they were so loud and I think sex is a very private and sacred thing… And I mean it was so disrespectful because Alison knows that I have to be up so early for my first class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday but she was— they were both...and then there was this buzzing sound. I think toys were involved."

I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. The mix of the story, the situation, and the toys made it too good to be true. Rion pouted, but I could still see a trace of a smile on her lips.

“Sorry. It's not funny. You were just making a funny face. Did you say your flatmate's name was Alison?"

"Yeah. Do you know her?"

"No." It's really not a lie. I don't know her.

"Oh. She's a really sweet girl, but I need sleep."

"You do. Three jobs is a lot to juggle. It makes me feel like I'm not doing enough."

"You do though. You work, you have more classes than I do, and you're president of senior class. We both are tackling a lot…But, I can't help but feel like something is missing from the equation for the both of us. I just can't quite put my finger on it."

“Yeah, me either. Do you know Alison's girlfriend. Have you seen her?" I don't know why I'm hoping that there's a chance that this Alison is playing the same game that Michelle is or that it's a completely different girl.

"No. I'm sure that she said it at some point last night, but I put my earphones in to try and muffle the sound as much as possible." Rion sighed as she turned around to face the desk again, looking back down at her book.

"It kind of sounds like you need an escape." I say, hoping that she would turn back around to face me.

“It's only the start of the year. Usually I'd be fine, but I'm already tired. Cambridge comes with a price, but I'm more than willing to pay it. A get away sounds good."

"Well, there's this party on Saturday that practically the whole school contributes in. I've even seen some professors there, the younger ones at least."

"Really? At a school like this?"

"Rion, Cambridge may seem mysterious, with all of its prestige, low acceptance rates, and student's who attend with big brains, but it’s a university first. Parties exist here and because we're not supposed to be considered a school known for parties, they exist a little bit more than your regular university. We just keep it a secret. You should come."

"I'm not really that much of a partier. The last one I went to was after I finished all of my GCSE. I was talking to this boy that I liked and I'd never really drank that much, but I was with my friends and peer pressure and all... It just didn't end well."

"Let me guess. You threw up on him?"

"No... I— I can't! I can't tell you it was so embarrassing!" Rion laughed covering her mouth before she stood up to help a first year out. I swear its only Wednesday and more than a fourth of the first years who live in this building have already lost their keys. I'm sure that after the party on Saturday and the excessive drinking that's going to take place there's going to be a line outside the door for key replacements.

Chelle: I'm so bored so I'm gonna clean the apartment. Starting in the living space, then your room, then mine. Anything that might stick to my fingers if I touch it this time? 😜😷

To Chelle: Don't clean my room! It's already clean! And please don't tell me you touched anything in my bin?😨😳

Chelle: I haven't, but I assume the worst. And I may or may not have changed your name in my phone to Mr. Tissue. I will never let you live that down.

To Chelle: Call one of your bitches and leave my shit alone, pimp daddy. I'm buying a lock for my door.🔒

Chelle: 😼Bitches? What good will a lock do when I'll have the spare? 🔐👀

To Chelle: We'll discuss this when I get home. I’m Busy.  🗣DO NOT TOUCH MY SHIT!

"You alright?" Rion asked pulling me out of my text war with Mitchell.

"Oh, yeah. Just texting my flat mate."

"Mitch, right?"

"Yeah," I snickered, shaking my head while thinking about the well being of my things, "So are you going to tell me what happened when you were at this party years and years ago talking to the boy you liked?"

"Ugh, no I can't. I absolutely can't embarrass myself that much again. It would be like reliving it."

"I'll tell you one of mine. My most embarrassing, but you've got to tell me yours first.” Rion hid her head in her hands peeking out at me between her fingers and laughing.

"Fine. But please don't judge me. It was my first time being drunk. Promise?"

"I promise that I might not be able to not laugh and I won't judge you but tease you for it later."Rion squinted her eyes at me processing what I said before she turned around facing away from me in her swivel chair. I heard her take a deep breath before she started.

"I'd never been drunk before and we were at this party because everyone finished their GCSE. We weren't really old enough to drink-"

"No shit?"

"Don't interrupt," she laughed dragging out the words, "All of the toilets were taken in the house so I was waiting outside of this one when Flynn came up to talk to me-"

I laughed out loud for the third time today and the story wasn't even over. "His name was Flynn?"

"Yes. He was very cute! Let me finish!"

"Okay, soz."

"So we were talking and I was really drunk and I really had to go and....I peed! Don't laugh! You said you wouldn't judge me!” Laughing was an understatement. My stomach hurt and my eyes started to water.

"You pissed yourself?!"

"I didn't talk to anyone for a week, even my best friend for letting me get that drunk."

"Why didn't you go wee outside?"

"Well it's so easy for boys to do that isn't it? You can just whip it out, shake it off, and put it away. Girls have layers that they have to get through, and I'm a lady."

"A lady who wet herself."

"And what's your story?"

"And it appears that we're out of time."

"Oh no you don't!" She laughed wiping the corner of her eye and pouting, "You promised!"

"Alright I guess. I was out with one of my friends and his parents had just gotten divorced so he was living with his mum at the time. We'd went to a bar and I'd gotten so drunk that I forgot where I was-"

"That's it?"

"No, I wish it was but no. We went back to his place because my mum doesn't like me drinking and I didn't want to hear her nag. But when I got back to his place, I started stripping off."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I took off everything.... Everything. My friends mum was at work at the time but when she came home the next morning I was ass naked in her hallway sleeping on the floor...on my back...and it was morning...My friend had went in his room and closed the door. But, now every time I come home to visit him and his mum is there she winks at me and pinches my bum."

Rion was in tears the same way that I was a few minutes ago and I didn't even care that the story was embarrassing, because her laugh was as cute as she was. I looked at my phone to check the time and our shift would be over in five minutes. Any other day time would have dragged on, but it always seems when I'm here with her it goes by a little faster.

"I can't believe that." Rion spoke while wiping her eyes again.

"Well believe it, because it happens every time. Makes for a good story though." We both started to gather our things to leave but before we left the building, Rion tore a sheet of paper from her notebook and began to write on it.

"Here. Um, that's my number. I don't know about the party just yet because I have to check my work schedules and everything else, but I don't know. Just text me sometime before then?"

"Sure. I mean yeah of course I will.”

Rion grinned at me while biting her bottom lip before walking away and the walk home that usually took fifteen minutes now felt as if it only took five.

****

I closed the door behind me with an exhaled  breath and  a smile on my face before  inhaling the scent of pine and citrus. Michelle poked her head out into the hallway that led to the door where I stood before she stepped out of the kitchen fully wearing pink rubber gloves, a pair of my favorite Green Bay sweats, and a t-shirt that also happened to be mine.

“Honey, I'm home."

"Bitches?"

"Excuse me?" I looked at my best mate confused as she crossed her arms across her chest after removing the gloves from her hands,  tilting her head to the side as she spoke again.

"You said I have bitches, Styles. Apparently there's more to discuss."

I walked away from the door removing my work shirt and tossing it at Michelle. She tried to move out of the way and dodge the laundry that I'd threw at her but it still landed on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, causing it to land on the floor before shouting at me.

"I've just cleaned this entire apartment and you come in here making a mess! Pick it up and take it to you're room you quadruple nippled fuck."

"Girls don't mind my bonus nipples. It even sometimes becomes interesting foreplay, when I was having sex that is."

"Gross!"

I laugh and duck when she launches the shirt back to me causing it to land in in a pile on the kitchen floor. We both look at it and step over it before I grab two beers out of the refrigerator, one for myself and one for Chelle.When I try to hand her the beverage, she frowns at the twist off cap and then pouts at me causing me to scowl before I open it for her.

"You're so useless sometimes, Chelle."

"Says the man who doesn't clean, yet looks around at a spotless household that smells of cinnamon. I wonder who did that? Ah, it must have been the useless one. Now," Michelle spoke before clicking the neck of her beer with mine and then taking a sip, "What's this about my bitches?"

I chuckled as I took a gulp of my drink and headed for the living-room with Michelle close behind. We sat on the couch on on opposite ends of each other, relaxing after a long day as we usually do.

"Maybe not bitches in the plural sense. Maybe there's just one?"

Michelle stretched out on the couch putting her mitch-matched sock clad feet on my lap, drawing a displeased look from me but ignoring it entirely as she dramatically massaged her temples with her free hand.

"I can't deal with your game of clue today. The chemicals from the cleaning made my brain go fuzzy and I don't think the beer is helping. Just tell me what you think you know so I can tell you that you're wrong as usual."

I smiled at her, placing my half finished beer bottle on the table in front of us and then began massaging her calves causing her to close her eyes and hum in appreciation before taking another swig of her drink.

"Alison."

Michelle opened one of her eyes before quickly closing it again.

"What about her?"

"Was she a part of your plans B and C last night? Because something or someone tells me that she may have been." Michelle's eyes snapped open and she looked at me in shock. "It's okay if you like her. You can't help who you like."

"I don't like anyone," Michelle looked down briefly at her lap as she shrugged off my discovery. If I've learned anything about her from being her friend its that when she fails to make eye contact, she's lying. "Gianna stood me up last night and Alison was my backup plan. It's simple. I got what I wanted and left in the morning before she even woke up."

"Okay," I smirked at her before picking up my beer again, finishing what was left of it.

"I'm serious. I don't like anyone. I don't feel anything for anyone anymore. Senior year, up the ante, remember? I barely like you."

"Alright," I chuckled before pushing her legs off of me, returning to the kitchen to grab another drink.

"Harry!"

"I believe you, I believe you. You you're an emotionless drone," I spoke as I opened the refrigerator, "We need to go to the grocery store. This is getting ridiculous. We don't have anything in here besides beer, fizzy drinks, and water."

"There are plenty of noodle cups in the cabinet. We'll just tell people we're on an all liquid diet if we ever get visitors. We're not done talking about the other thing. Stop changing the subject. How did you even know I was at Alison's last night?"

I closed the door to the refrigerator with a smirk on my face walking past Michelle to go back into the living room. She followed behind me while lighting a candle that smells like oranges to keep the citrus scent going.

"Well? Come on Har. I don't want to have to chase you around the apartment all day for answers."

"Make me a noodle cup and bring me a bottle of water and I'll tell you."

"You were just in the kitchen!" Michelle speaks as she throws her lighter at me but does what I ask.

When she gets back, she hands me a fork and places the bottle of water on the table in front of me. I smile at her as a thank you before I speak.

"Rion."

"What?"

"Small world right? Or, small campus? Rion, is Alison's flatmate and she kind of, she heard you two last night. I mean, unless that wasn't you and there's another girl named Alison on campus? She said you guys kept her up because you both were too loud."

"There very well could be another Alison, Harry. It's not like there are only four lesbians that exist on earth. But Rion? The girl that you work with? The one that you have the hots in the pants for, Rion?"

"Yes and I don't just like her that way."

"Hm. Of course you do, you've only known her for three days..."

"What, hm? What do you have to say about her?"

"Oh, nothing except Alison calls her prudence. She says she's a real goody good and she's annoying."

"Thats sad," I say as I finish all that I was going to of my noodles leaving the rest for Michelle to eat. She takes the cup from my hands and takes a bite while looking at me to finish what I was going to say, "Rion says Alison's really nice and sweet."

“Well, I don't know. Rion may very well be Princess Peach. You know I don't do girly gossip. It gets on my last nerve. Alison just feels the need to talk to me when I'm there and its like shut the fuck up, girl. I didn't come over here to hear you talk, now get between my legs and-"

"Woah! Okay, and Mitchel is back. How are ya bro? I haven't really seen you in a few days."

"Fuck off Harry." Michelle laughs. "I hear the sordid details of you and the lads sexcapades all the time...well not you so much now, but you know what I was getting at."

"Yeah but, it's kind of different..."

"How?" Chelle quirked an eyebrow and turned her head looking to me for an answer that I'm not sure that I wanted to give her.

"Well, because... I um... and it's just that sometimes-"

"Wait! Harry you pervert! You get turned on by it don't you? It gives you a stiffy?"

"No!"

"Yes! Yes it does! You're turning all red!"

“No it doesn’t, Michelle!"

"Then what's your valid reason?"

I couldn't think of a lie fast enough and Michelle started to laugh, nasty snort and all. I took a pillow from the couch and threw it at her, making her fall backwards on the floor and stay there, using the pillow to her advantage as she lied down on the throw rug that covered the majority of the hardwood flooring in the living room. Our apartment was pretty nice considering that it was still school property, then again we did luck out putting in our bid in order to get into the newer buildings.

"Okay Hersh, I'll keep my dirty details to a minimum for the sake of your tight trousers. I can only imagine that, that gets uncomfortable. Anyway, did you ask prudence- sorry, Rion, to the party this weekend?"

"I did." I smile as I think about the neatly folded piece of paper in my pocket with her number written across it.

"What did she say?" Michelle looks up at me from her place on the floor.

"She said that she's not really that much of a party person." I smiled again a bit harder than I had before.

"So she's not going and she turned you down again? Maybe she is a prude. Don't worry about it Harry, there are plenty of other girls out here on campus just as smart, if not smarter than she is, prettier, and who will appreciate you for- What are you smiling about? Why are you so giddy from being turned down twice?"

I chuckled to myself while shaking my head and standing from my place on the couch, stretching before going towards my room.

"I didn't necessarily get turned down."

I could hear Michelle's footsteps close behind me as I walked into my room. She'd been in here. I can tell not only because of the clothes that she wore to clean that were mine, but because I could still faintly smell her perfume. Nothing was on the floor anymore and she even made my bed. I looked around the room and then back at her before I sat, grabbing one of the neatly placed pillows to put under my head, then lied back on it with my legs hanging over the edge of the mattress.

"Before you say anything, you'll be able to find your things. I just put everything where it’s supposed to normally go."

"I wasn't going to say anything besides thank you. I'm still buying a lock for my door, but thank you."

Michelle rolled her eyes. Something she calls a brainless trait. When she catches herself she covers her face in embarrassment before she continues to bother me, taking a seat  next to me on the bed. "So how is Rion's telling you that she's not a party girl, not necessarily turning you down?"

"She gave me her number. You know, for someone who doesn't like to hang out with girls you surely do a lot of girly gossip. You're so nosey, Jesus."

"Oh please, Harrow. You wanted to tell me just as bad if not worse than I wanted to know. Are you going to call her tonight?"

“No. That's too forward and desperate. I'll text her tomorrow or something."

"You're such a teenaged girl. You think about things too much instead of just doing them. Sometimes I wonder if you have a bajingo where your penis should be. If she gave you her number its because she wants a call.”

"Go fuck off somewhere else Mitchel! And by the way, those joggers and that shirt are mine. Thief."

Michelle stood from the bed with a smirk on her face before she took off my shirt and my sweats, folding them precisely before she put them in my washing basket. I kept my eyes on her face when she looked back at me and I swear that I tried to keep my eyes on her face the entire time, but I would be lying if I said that my eyes didn't roam over her  smooth skin when she wasn't looking at me. I closed my eyes quickly and turned my head away. Hearing her laugh was the only evidence that I had to let me know that she was still standing in my room.

"I didn't say take off my clothes right now. God, Chelle don't be so literal. Go dress yourself!"

"I have on underwear! And you took off your shirt when you came through the door. AND I've seen you walk around in your boxers plenty. Is there some sort of double standard because I'm a woman?”

"That's not the point! And yes there is! Please go put on trousers and a shirt?"

“Whatever, Harry. I'm going to bed. Clearly I'll have to sleep this way because it's hot as hell fire in my room. It's a shame that this is a new building but they still didn't bother to make sure that the ventilation was right before they stuck people in it. Good night and all that."

"Night." I looked towards Chelle and then looked away again as she began to walk out of my room, her nicely rounded bum bounced as she closed the door behind her.

****

Saturday came quickly. Too quickly for my liking, and I hadn't text Rion or called her at all. I didn't want to seem desperate, but perhaps waiting three days made it seem like I wasn't interested? I hadn't seen her at work for the past two days because she has two other jobs to juggle. I'd hoped that she could get off for today, however, even though I haven't said a word to her.

"Just call her. Stop being a chicken shit. The party is tonight, and I'm rooting for you, Styles." Michelle spoke as we walked down the aisles of Sainsbury Supermarket. We'd been here for nearly half an hour and had nothing in our cart except beer, noodle cups, frozen pizza's and a bottle of Goldschläger for tonight. Broke college students can afford alcohol when they can't afford anything else.

"Are we going to buy any real food, or is this about as good as it gets?" I asked, ignoring Michelle's comment.

"What? We've got plenty. Plus I think there are chicken nuggets in there and that's a delicacy for us. Don't avoid what I've said to you."

"I haven't avoided anything, and we would be able to get more than chicken nuggets and noodles if you would just call your parents."

Michelle hesitated before she looked back at me and then back down at her list. She doesn't call her parents much to ask for money if she can avoid it. Her mum isn't doing so well health wise and to the best of my knowledge she hasn't been for some years now. The doctors thought that she had leukemia, but apparently they've only just discovered that's not the case. I think it's what drives Michelle's dream to become a doctor. She's eager to find out what's going on with her mum so that she can be the one to cure it.

She glanced at her phone having an internal battle with herself on whether she should ring home or not. I felt bad for asking her and I normally wouldn't, but I'm running low on funds myself. I usually get a stipend every other week from my mum and paid every other Friday from my shitty job, but unfortunately I'm between pay checks and for some reason my mum is late.

Michelle decided against my idea putting her phone back in her pocket.

"We're in our last year of uni. What would it look like if we resorted to calling our parents to wire us food money? You call yours if you're so hungry."

"It would look like we're both working shit jobs barely making wage and paying to rent out the apartment that we have so that we can finish out this last year with a roof over our heads. I wouldn't ask you to usually, but is an emergency. I asked my parents last time. It's your turn."

“Well, we can just get rid of something then if we don't have enough." Michelle stopped the cart and began to sift through the contents inside it, moving over ten cups of noodles out of the way and the one bag of chicken nuggets that we had. When her hand landed on the alcohol, we both looked at each other and shook our heads no. "Fuck," Michelle groaned under her breath, "Fine I'll ask my parents tomorrow. Let’s just get this for now and get out of here."

When we left the grocery store, after loading all four of our bags into my car, Michelle got quiet while looking out the window. I still hadn't told her that Louis is planning on meeting up with me and the lads to drink before we go just to prove that he's not one of those people and usually, now days anyway, wherever Louis is Michelle is far away and vice versa. I figure that there's no better time to tell her rather than now while she's quiet, but at the same time I don't want to hurt her feelings. She seemed lost in thought, but there's still a smile on her face.

I cleared my throat causing her to look at me quizzically with an eyebrow raised.

"Um, so.."

"Yes?"

"About the party tonigh-"

"No you don't!" Michelle cut in not allowing me to finish what I was going to say as we pulled up to our apartment. "You're not cutting out of this. Gosh, Harry, I know that you want to be more serious and that this year and I'm sorry for not using the Ultimate Alarm the other day when you were in an alcoholic hibernation, but it's a Saturday. Can you not have fun on Saturdays?" Michelle frowned pouting a bit.

"I'm going to the party, if that's what that speech was pertaining to at all? I wasn't going to say that I'm not going."

"Oh. Well then by all means continue." She smiled this time, happy with herself because she didn't have to argue her case any further.

"Yeah, I um, I'm going to the party, but Louis wanted me and the lads to meet up with him before we go. Pre-gaming and all that." I spoke quickly hoping that she didn't mind or hear what I said for that matter. Her eyes stayed straight forward, looking outside the windshield before she replied.

"All of you?"

"Yeah. He kind of asked about it earlier this week when I saw him...But you know we'll hang out at the party and stuff."

She nodded her head. It was the only response she'd given as her eyes stayed on the boot of the car in front of us.

"Are you alright with it? I can always-"

"Don't worry about it, Harrow. You were his friends first after all, and we live with each other. I'm tired of seeing your ugly mug anyway." Michelle laughed while patting my cheek and I shoved her hand off of me. "Plus, we all know I have bitches that I need to tend to so it's fine."

She covers up how she truly feels with a joke and all of a sudden I feel guilty.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah it's fine. You're very much a pleaser, Harrow. Did you know that?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I parked the car and grabbed the groceries out of the back seat to go upstairs.

"You can't please everyone. In the end someone is going to have to be let down or hurt. That's the way of life. It's okay to be selfish sometimes, Harry. That's what I mean."

Michelle sighed as she walked ahead of me, using her keys to unlock the door to our flat. I put the groceries and my things down in the kitchen before I went for a wee, all the while trying to figure out where the hell that last bit of our conversation was coming from, but when I came out of the bathroom she was back to acting like her normal self.

"Since you're leaving me to fend for myself tonight," Michelle spoke holding up two double shot glasses filled to the brim with alcohol, "We didn't buy this for nothing." She spoke in reference to the Goldschläger that ate up the majority of our money and bit her bottom lip while smiling at me.

I winced, already feeling the burn of the liquid going down my throat, before looking at my watch.

"It's only five. No one is going to start drinking until at least nine. You're trying to kill me. I said sorry for agreeing to go with Louis and the lads. Why are you making me do this?"

"Harry, when we were first years we drank early all the time."

"And my liver paid for it."

"Oop, Harry what's that?"

I looked over my shoulder confused before I looked back over to Michelle.

"What's what?"

"Is that a bajingo between your legs where you penis should be?" Michelle started to laugh while pointing in that general area.

"Piss off Chelle!" I spoke before walking up to the table and grabbing the shot that she'd placed there for me. I held it up to eye level inspecting it first. There was something floating in the glass.

"It's actually gold," Michelle said seeing the confusion written clean across my face, "hence the name Goldschläger."

"So we can afford to drink gold flecks in alcohol, but we can't afford real food?"

"I'm going to call my parents tomorrow I said, Mr. Sensable. Now shut up and down it!"

I looked at Michelle shaking my head as we clinked glasses and turned the shot up to our lips. The burn of it made my eyes water and when I looked at Michelle, hers were doing the same. I picked up the bottle on the table and read it before Michelle took it from my hands, pouring us both another shot.

"This is forty-five percent alcohol."

"Yes. It's strong. So, so strong." She nodded as if she already knew.

"We'll be trashed if we keep drinking this. We probably wouldn't even make it to the party." I spoke before I walked over to the refrigerator to grab us beers, hoping that she would switch substances.

"No we won't. I won't let us miss it. But legend has it that this is supposed to get you drunk quickly. The gold flecks supposedly make microscopic cuts in your esophagus so the alcohol can get into your bloodstream faster. Cheers." Michelle handed me the shot glass again as if after hearing that I would want to drink it again.

"Michelle that's horrible. I don't want to-"

"Just take one more shot of it and then we'll just sip beer until you leave to go meet up with Louis and the rest of the lads."

Her eyes were pleading and I couldn't tell her no. We both flipped our heads back as he downed the shots and with in a peer pressured hour, ten shots and two beers later, there was a sloppy grin on my face and I my vision was doubled. Michelle however seemed fine.

"Your alcohol tolerance has lowered dramatically. It’s almost seven. What time were you going to go to Louis'?"

"In an hour."

"I'll drive you." She spoke as she sat against the couch taking out her phone and laughing at my facial expression.

"You had just as much to drink as I have. You can't drive."

"I can. I've got a buzz but that's all. You're trashed. I only had three shots. The other seven you took alone." I looked at her in shock. How could she have tricked me that way? I swear she was drinking too. Michelle laughed and I could already tell that she was recording me. "I'm putting this on instagram."

"Don't! I really hate you." I slurred while pointing at her, only causing her to laugh more.

"You need to loosen up, especially for your hot date tonight. There's no point in you being so uptight at the start of the quarter. I'll let you go back to your boring self when Monday comes around again." She pulled her phone away from me as I tried to take it from her. "You might want to check your phone by the way. It seems you have a message."

I looked down at the notification that showed on the screen, squinting my eyes to try and focus on what was there. When my eyes adjusted, I almost felt sober.

Rion: I was starting to think that maybe you'd forgotten about me. I checked my schedule and I'm actually free tonight. I don't know how long I'll stay, but I'll meet you there. Alison is going so I'll just be with her.

My eyes widened before I scrolled up to see what I supposedly said.

To Rion: Hiiiii, It's Harry. Sorry for being such a stupid arsehole and not texting you sooner, but would you still want to go to that party tonight?

"You texted Rion?"

"Yup."

"But I-I'm not...Fuck!"

"What? You like her right? I've done you a favor."

"Yeah, but—“

"No but's. You either like her or you don't and if you do and if she likes you, which she does, obviously, then you have the go ahead to call. She wanted you to call. She clearly likes you. She's excited and so are you. You're just nervous. You haven't been on a date in six months or maybe more? But, this should be like riding a bike, if you will. I've removed your kickstand, now all you have to do is pedal."

I looked at Michelle and shook my head before I went in my room to find something to wear for tonight, deciding on the usual skinny jeans and oversized shirt, leaving a few of the buttons in the front undone as I stumbled into the living room to wait for Michelle. She reappeared from her room shortly after I did wearing black leather looking tight pants and some sort of red cut off shirt along with her fake glasses and red lips. She looked beautiful and I could only think that she was doing so for Alison.

As much as Chelle would doubt it, I think the player may have taken an interest in one that's supposed to be a pawn in her dating game. All I can hope for is that Alison treats her right. She deserves someone who would.

"What's the point of wearing a shirt if it’s barely buttoned, Styles? And it's see through. I mean I guess kudos for buttoning the three buttons you did bother with correctly." It could be because I'm drunk, but I could have sworn that I saw her look me up and down...not necessarily in a friendship manner. I ignored her while grinning and standing from the couch before she grabbed the Goldschläger again pouring us both another shot. "One for the road?"

"I'll take it if you take it first you lying Judas. I'm already drunk enough as it is."

Michelle cringed before she threw her head back downing the shot, eyes watering again by how strong of a burn the cinnamon schnapps left behind. I did the same and then took another for the hell of it since I wouldn't be driving tonight. Michelle eyed me as I walked down the stairs and to her car as if I would fall.

"Stop watching me and walk yourself."

"Someone has to watch out for you. You're clumsy enough as it is, bambi. Adding alcohol to the mix is a disaster waiting to strike."

"Says the absolute asshole who got me drunk in the first place."

"Oh yeah...That's right." Michelle smiled victoriously before she spoke again, clearing her throat before hand, "Uh, so, since I'm taking you to Louis' place where does he stay? I know he must have moved from where we lived before..." Her face dropped slightly.

"With his bird about five blocks over... Sorr-"

"It's fine." Michelle started her car, looking through the windscreen straight ahead like she did earlier as she drove and listened to the directions I gave her, telling he where to turn.

When we pulled up in front of the house, Niall was outside on the porch with a beer in his hand, smoking a cigarette. No doubt because Hollie put him out of the house, not wanting anything to smell like stale smoke.

"Harry! Hi Mitch!" He waved to us as he stumbled over to the car clearly drunk himself and louder than usual. "You're staying too, Michelle?" She shook her head no while smiling half way at Niall as I got out of the car. "You should stay. This thing, whatever it is, between you and Lou is ridiculous. You guys were so close and it can get there again. Just get out of the car and-"

"I can't Ni, I have somewhere to be, myself." Michelle's eyes begged Niall to be more quiet but he didn't get the hint. He was going to speak again, but was cut off by Lou as he walked out onto his porch with Hollie close behind. He didn't notice that Michelle was with us until I moved to walk towards the house.

"Lads!"

I looked from Michelle to Louis then back to Michelle again and as I did I saw her eyes widen right before she cursed under her breath. Louis paused in his steps, and his eyebrows drew together slightly before he spoke.

"Michelle." He nodded at her as a greeting gesture making everything more awkward.

"Louis."

"Mitch can stay right?" In that moment everyone looked at Niall as he took another drunken, oblivious drag off of his cigarette and it appeared that everyone wanted to punch him in the face, including me.

"No actually I was just leaving. Enjoy your night boys. Be safe, Harrow. I'll see you later yeah?"

I nodded my head before she spoke a simple "good," and sped off as quickly as her car could take her. Louis took a deep breath, shaking his head before smiling at us and inviting us in for more booze. I honestly didn't think that I would drink anymore tonight, but after that I felt the need to.

Niall dropped his cigarette and stepped on it while shrugging his shoulders at me as we followed behind Louis into the house where everyone else sat.

“Read the room next time, yeah?” I spoke under my breath hoping that only Niall would hear me.

“What room? It’s stupid that they don’t talk anymore. For fucks sake he was going t’ marry—”

“I know, Niall. I know.” I interrupted Niall mid sentence and could not help but notice the hitch in my jaw, that became more sore than it had been in a while.

 We all spoke as we walked in the house and I put the topic behind me in order to proceed on with the rest of the night and  for the first time in a while I was happy that the liquor continued to flow. It  seemed to put me and everyone else around in the right mindset for one of the biggest parties of the year, but Louis still seemed somewhat flustered about seeing Michelle for the first time since they called things off. I know Michelle probably didn't feel the best either and I tried to text her to see if she was alright, but I got no response.

Chelle: Are you okay, Chelle? I'm so sorry about that. Didn't know that he would come outside.

Though I got no response to my text, I expected to see Michelle as soon as we got to The Barn. The title of the bar was fitting as it was out closer towards farmland and covered in red paint as it actually was previously a stable. It was crowded with everyone from students to professors indulging in what the night had to offer, but as I skimmed the crowd I began to get more anxious. We had been here for an hour. I was sure that by now that I would have run into her. Taking out my phone, I’d opted to give her a ring, but before I could unlock my screen my phone began to buzz in my hand.

"Hello?" I slurred on the line while closing my opposite ear with my finger so that I could hear whoever it was I was talking to.

"Harry?" The deafening music and noise in the background made it almost impossible to hear.

"No, this is Harry." hiccup “Who is this?"

"Harry, it's Rion can you hear me?"

I walked away from Niall, Darragh, and the rest of the lads as they prepared to make Niall do a keg stand; swaying as I went.

"Who is this?" I repeated trying to hear better, hoping that it was Michelle calling me back in response to the text I’d sent.

"Harry, it's Rion. Can you hear me now?"

"Rion?"

"Yes."

"Hi." I smiled as if she were in front of me, when in all actuality I was in the middle of the crowded street surrounded by a sea of strangers. A car honked at me just as I was about to cross back towards the party, causing me to step back so that I didn't get hit.

"Where are you?" She laughed into the phone causing me to smile again.

“Outside enjoying the weather. Are you here? At the party I mean."

"I am," when she spoke I could hear the smile in her voice, over the excessive chattering and music in the background. "Can you come to the doors near the front of the pub and meet me there?"

"Sure. Stay on the phone with me? You know, just until I find you." I slurred into the phone but Rion laughed again nonetheless.

"Of course...Is that you in the middle of the street? Please be careful if it is."

I looked around, confused as to how she could see me but I couldn't see her. I walked towards the pub again forcing my bleary eyes to focus until I spotted her, standing on a large rock that was just outside the door. When I reached her, I held out my hand to help her down. She took it and called me a gentleman before I said anything else.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked as I looked down at her in her jean jacket and simple black dress that clung to her chest then flowed down to her feet.

"I guess. It's not that bad. Ten times better than the last party I went to already."

I laughed.

"You haven't drunk anything?"

"One mixed drink, but I didn't really finish it. Are you enjoying yourself?" She asked me as we began to walk to nowhere in particular.

"I am. A little bit more now, actually.” A slight blush came to Rion's cheeks before she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and I cleared my throat to continue. "Where's your flatmate?"

"Alison? I'm not sure. She said she was going to meet up with a friend of hers. The same girl that she was with the last time no doubt."

My mind went to Michelle as I checked my phone again and still I had no messages from her.

"So, she left you here?"

"I haven't seen her in the last hour... She could have. But if she did, I have no real way home now. She was my ride. I knew I should have just driven on my own."

I didn't say anything more, but I had the feeling that Alison bailed. I might have an idea as to who with and where to as well.

"Well, are you ready to go?" We ended up closer to the street facing in the direction of the campus. "The night is oddly nice for the end of August and the sky isn't as cloudy as it could be. We might miss getting rained on if we leave now."

"Do you have your car?" She asked looking towards me as if it were a deal breaker.

“No, but I would walk back with you. The parties aren't really my thing anymore. I just came to catch up with some friends. It was nice to get out. We're only about a 15 minute walk away from campus."

Rion looked towards the pub and then back at me again before she smiled and answered me sweetly.

"I'd love to get out of here with you."

Rion and I began walking, but as soon as we got a little bit past the corner where the party was being held at she stopped, causing me to stop as well and look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you going to tell any of your friends that you're leaving?" She asks while holding her dress up just past her ankles so it doesn't touch the ground.

I grin at her, absolutely ecstatic that she's giving me the chance to walk her back to her dorm room. If those tossers want to know where I went they know how to call. I guess Mitch really did do me a favor and I might owe her one after this.

"Oh, um...No. They're having a good time. I'm sure they won't even notice that I left. It's okay. Besides, I'm getting kind of tired anyway. I could always just shoot them a message."

Rion nods her head in agreement before we begin to walk again. Bunching the material of her dress in one hand in hopes not to step on it, I couldn't help but chuckle as I looked at her.

"Its so long. I love this dress but it's a bit of a hassle to wear." Rion comments, already knowing the reason for my amusement. I gently grab her hand to stop her once more and this time she looks at me with as soft smile forming on her lips.

"Here, let me..." I trailed off, gently taking her hand that had the fabric of her dress, causing her to let it go. Our eyes met as I slowly went down on my knees in front of her. If I would have gone too fast I'm sure I would have lost my balance or worse. It's almost a wonder that I can form a coherent sentence. All that I can hope is that I don't completely reek of alcohol.

I take the hem of the dress and tie a knot in it that's hopefully loose enough to undo when she gets home if she wants, and high enough so that she doesn't have to worry about stepping on it or have it sweep on the ground to get torn or dirty; just above her ankles. I'm not going to lie, when I was down there I looked at her feet and what I could see of her legs. I won't say I have a foot fetish or anything weird like that, but if a girls toes looks like they can pick up an orange with ease and whip it at the back of your head, it's kind of a turn off for me.

Her feet were beautiful aside from a few cuts here and there on her the tops of them. She even had a plaster or two on one of them, but somehow she even made that okay because they matched the purple coloring of her nail polish.

I stood after I was finished, and by the look on her face I must have been down there for a reasonable amount of time to make a knot, at least I hope I was. When I was looking at her feet, I had to make it not so noticeable that that's what I was doing. I don't want her to think I'm some kind of a freak.

"Thank you," she exclaimed while smiling, "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"Yeah I saw some other girl do it and thought it made sense."

Rion smiled at me again and as we walked next to each other, her hand grazed mine; once, twice, three times before I grabbed it in my own. I saw her look over at me through her peripheral vision. It was a quick glance but I saw it nonetheless. I also saw her bite her bottom lip to try to prevent her smile from getting any bigger than it already was.

I didn't want to bust her out and embarrass her, but I did want to tease her a little. I gently squeezed her hand while biting my bottom lip to stop my smile from spreading much like she did, causing her to laugh before I changed the subject.

"The sky is really clear tonight. I can see Orion's Belt. It really might not rain after all."

"My namesake." Rion smirked.

"Sorry, what?" I spoke noticing that the party sounds were fading farther and farther into the distance.

"My mum is really into Greek mythology and constellations, so my name and its spelling came from Orion himself." She pointed towards the sky and the huge constellation before she looked back at me, slipping her hand back into mine purposefully.

"Cool story. And I'm not being a sarcastic asshole or anything by the way. That makes your name original." hiccup "And I like it a lot. I think my mum named me Harold because it was the only male name that begins with H and that comes after G that she could think of. Her creativity stopped after she realized that she wanted to put her kids names in alphabetical order." Rion laughed and nudged my arm.

"Don't talk about your mum. I think she might have chosen the name because Harry fits you. I've always liked that name."

"Have you now?" I asked with a smirk on my face and an eyebrow raised.

"I have."

"It's because of Prince Harry isn't it? Be honest."

"No it's-"

"Tell the truth."

"He's just so cute. He's the dreamiest ginger I've ever seen besides Ed Sheeran. All due respect to his royalness." Rion spoke causing me to laugh and shake my head before she continued. "Then again, all of the Harry's I've had the pleasure of meeting were pretty fit." She said looking over at me and then back up at the velvety black night sky speckled with beautiful stars.

"How many of us have you met?"

"Well...Just one so far."

I looked over at her as we finally reached a street that had lamp posts and she let out a small chuckle that sounded as if she were clearing her throat. Her eyes caught the light that lined the streets making her irises seem to brighten even though her eye color was dark brown.

We'd finally reached campus just as the clouds started to roll in at two in the morning and from there, I followed Rion's lead back to her dorm. In my three full years at Cambridge, I'd never been to this one in particular, but apparently, Michelle has. I saw her car in the parking lot. Something told me that she would be here, seeking comfort for the blow she received earlier. The sooner that she realizes that fucking doesn’t fix what hurts her, the better off she'll be. Part of me wants to bang on the door as soon as we get to the room, but I decide against it. All I cab hope that she’ll talk to someone eventually. If that someone happens to be Alison, then I'll be happy for her, I guess.

"Thank you, Harry. For getting me home safe and asking me to come out. I had fun for the amount of time I was there for." Rion leaned against her door, smiling while looking up at me.

"It was no problem. Thank, you for, you know, coming." I could hear myself wanting to ramble before I closed my mouth.

“Good night, then." Rion spoke, still smiling and then pausing.

"Goodnight."

Rion turned to unlock her door and when she got it open I turned to leave, but before I could go I could feel her pull my hand. When I turned she had a pout on her face.

"You know, you're really horrible at picking up on signals."

Huh?

"I-"

"I waited so patiently as well."

"I'm-"

"Three days. You didn't text me or say anything for three days. I didn't know what to think. I still don't."

"You're-"

"Oh shut up, Harry."

Rion crossed her arms over her chest and out of shock I closed my mouth, not really sure what to say or do. Rion squinted her eyes at me before shaking her head and turning to go into her little dorm before I stopped her, pulling her to me before I kissed her deeply, pushing her against the wall a bit to show her how it should be done.After it was over Rion sighed in content with her eyes still closed before reopening them slowly. I grinned against her lips before speaking knowing that I’d won her over.

"I didn't know what to think either to be honest. It's been a while."

Rion grabbed me by the front of my shirt, bringing my lips back down to hers.She pulled away, kissing the corner of my mouth making a trail to my ear and then kissing me right beneath my earlobe. There was no tongue involved at all but it still had been the most action than I'd gotten in months and it was still enough to leave us both breathless at the end of her antics. 

"Do you know what to think now?” She pushed her door open, speaking before she closed the door behind herself with a cheeky smile.

I’m not sure how long I stood there with a goofy grin on my face after it was all said and done, but when I got to the stairs my drunken mind allowed my legs to work properly and carry me down while still having the memory replay in my head.

I'd only gotten through the doors of the exit of her dormitory before my brain went to my pants, thinking that I might be able to get a good wank before I fell asleep with Rion's lips pressed against my jaw as the mental muse. Just when I thought about flushing any possible tissues instead of putting them in my bin, my phone rang.

"Harry?" Rion whispered into the phone, sounding on the agitated side.

"Rion? What's wrong?"

"She's at it again." Rion exhaled into the phone before I heard the creaking of a door, sounding as if it were being shut.

"Who's at what?"

"Alison and her, friend."

I started to chuckle, thinking of all of the ways that I would tease Michelle tomorrow when I saw her. I know that she's been active, but damn. She's got to be insatiable. I pictured her and Alison, terribly sweaty, gasping for air-

"Harry?"

"Sorry, what did you say?" Rion's voice snapped me out of getting too carried away in inappropriate thought again. Thoughts that I shouldn't venture into about my best pal.

"I really want to be able to sleep without being disrupted. Do you mind if I come to yours? I'll sleep on the couch, the floor, a chair. Anything you wouldn't mind sparing really."

“No, of course I don't mind."

Oh god.

"Are you sure? Should you ask your flatmate first? I wouldn't want to intrude on you or him."

My mind was swimming with a thousand things. Minor details that had the potential to be major. Is my room clean? When is the last time that I had a girl in my room that wasn’t Michelle? Do we have water bottles that I can offer Rion when we get into my flat if she's thirsty? Why does Rion think that Mitch is a guy?

“No… I uh, I'm alone for the night, actually. My flatmate is staying somewhere else I think." In your roommates' room, disrupting you currently.

"Thank you so much." Rion breathed out, sounding somewhat relieved.

"Yeah no problem. I'll turn around now."

"Oh shit, did you get far? I'm so sorry."

"No it's fine. I just got down the street a bit." I spoke as I neared her building again.

I saw her walking out in the same clothes she was wearing before. When she got to me, she thanked me again before we took the surprisingly short walk towards my flat.

"You live in the new buildings? Fancy."

"Yeah, it's alright. For it being new, the ventilation sucks in Mitch's room, but that's the only complaint we have."

I unlocked the door and turned the knob saying a silent prayer as we walked in, but I'd forgotten that Michelle cleaned the whole place, including my room despite my protest for her not to.  It was the first time that I’d been happy that she didn’t listen to me.

"It's really nice, Harry. You were being modest." Rion spoke as she tiptoed through the apartment, stopping in the living-room and taking a seat for herself before removing her sandals. "Really clean for two lads."

"Oh, actually-"

"Sorry, Harry. I don't want to interrupt, but do you think I could use the restroom first? I'm bursting to go."

I laughed while running my hand through my hair. "Sure. It's just down the hall. We wouldn't want a repeat of your last party."

Rion turned red, covering her mouth in a laugh and speaking to me as she walked down the hall.

"I really still can't believe I told you that."

While she was gone, I grabbed extra blankets from the linen closet and laid out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts of mine for her to wear on my bed. I also grabbed a bottle of water and put it on my desk for her in case she was thirsty, thankful that I made Michelle put some of those noodle cups back in exchange for it. Before I made my bed on the couch, I went into Michelle's room to steal one of her pillows but I’d gotten distracted easily. On her bedside table was a picture of the both of us taken last year. We were both pretty out of it and you can clearly tell in the photo, but in the midst of all the insanity Michelle was still alert and smiling at me while I was laughing and pulling her shirtsleeve with my teeth.

When I heard Rion leaving the bathroom I quickly left from Michelle's room, placing the photograph back down where I got it from and closing her bedroom door behind me.

"You'll be in my room. I've laid you out some things to make you more comfortable."

"Awe, Harry. I can take the couch really. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

"No you won't. Now, go to bed. Good night, but for real this time."

Rion eyed me as she nodded her head in agreement, a slight grin on her lips. 

“Yes for real this time.” She spoke before her bottom lip was drawn into her mouth. The liquor I consumed tonight made me do the same as I looked her up and down shamelessly, grinning as I did so.

I started to take a step backwards only to notice that Rion advanced forwards causing me to stop in my tracks. Our lips connected again more fervently than they had before, before I started to walk again leading Rion back into my bedroom.

#Harry Styles #harry styles slow burn #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

[ingek73]

After that disastrous royal tour, is the sun finally setting on the Commonwealth?

Moya Lothian-McLean

A reckoning with those countries that have held on to Queen Elizabeth as their head of state is long overdue – as William and Kate’s trip to the Caribbean made clear

Published: 16:34 Sunday, 27 March 2022

Duchess of Cambridge and Prince William arrive in Nassau

Just how long has the British monarchy been in crisis? This time – after “Megxit”, after Prince Andrew – it was the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s disastrous trip to the Caribbean. What was supposed to be a “charm offensive”, drumming up enthusiasm in the year of the Queen’s platinum jubilee, ended up looking more like a long goodbye, with the headlines spotlighting anti-royal protests, failures to address legacies of slavery, and the news that Jamaica is planning to ditch the Queen as head of state.

It may well be time for the royal family to face up to the fact that the sun is setting on those final remnants of the empire that they once embodied – and not a moment too soon.

For Britons, it can be easy to forget that the Queen’s realm and territories stretch far beyond these isles. Out of the 54 “independent and equal nations” that make up the Commonwealth of Nations, 15 (including the UK) still count the Queen as their head of state. Becoming a republic doesn’t necessitate surrendering membership of the Commonwealth itself – it simply means a symbolic rejection of British rule. And with Barbados finally taking the leap last year, longstanding debates about republicanism have been reignited in the remaining realms.

The issue is just as hotly debated in the likes of Australia (54% of people there would support becoming a republic) as it is in Jamaica, but packing William and Kate off to the Caribbean has inevitably focused minds in that region. Though republican camps in the Caribbean have long cited the impact of colonialism and slavery on the contemporary fortunes of their countries, a new reckoning is afoot, against the backdrop of the global Black Lives Matter movement and renewed conversations about the legacy of empire. Thanks to the attention the royals command, the disintegration of British overseas rule is being documented in real time.

The signs weren’t looking good for William and Kate from the outset. The couple’s first official engagement, in Belize, was unceremoniously cancelled after protests from the Q’eqehi Maya people over a land dispute with a charity that William patronises. Heading to Jamaica, they were met with more demonstrations, this time calling on the royals to address the issue of reparations for the several hundred years they directly profited from the slave trade. Government officials backed up the sentiment, with Jamaica’s prime minister, Andrew Holness, informing a solemn William and Kate that the country was “moving on’’ and wanted to be “independent”, seemingly following the example of Barbados. It’s no wonder the royals were gracing Sunday’s front pages in damage-limitation mode, with William offering a half-apology for the tour.

As ever, sometimes opening their mouths only makes things worse: in a speech given in Kingston last week, Prince William expressed “profound sorrow” for the transatlantic slave trade, but people were quick to point out that he stopped short of an apology or acknowledging the monarchy’s direct interests in slavery. At one point in history, enslaved Black Africans arriving in the Caribbean via the Royal African Company were branded with the initials “DY”, marking them as the property of the then Duke of York . Royal profiting from slavery continued apace – the future William IV even personally argued for the continuation of the trade in the House of Commons in 1799, a move that, according to historian Brooke Newman, helped “delay” abolition for a few more years but “misjudged the mood of the nation” – and damaged the reputation of the royal family as a result.

For the royals, the trip has been a sharp lesson in how people in the Commonwealth now perceive Britain and its institutions. As the Jamaican dancehall artist Beenie Man put it during an interview with ITV News: “We are just here, controlled by the British, ruled by the British law when you go in the court. It’s all about the Queen … but what are they doing for Jamaica? They’re not doing anything for us.” The Jamaican writer Ashley Rouen Brown summed up the grounds for resentment succinctly: Jamaicans, he wrote, are “currently the only citizens within the Commonwealth realm that require a visa to visit the land of their head of state”. Meanwhile, requests for financial reparations, in recognition of the impact centuries of plunder had on economic prospects, have been met with egregious responses, like David Cameron’s 2015 offer for Britain to finance a £25m prison to hold Jamaican “criminals” in lieu of compensation for slavery.

In Jamaica, republicanism has been part of the political conversation since the 1970s, and there is cross-party support for the move. But now, debate has been replaced by decision. Emancipation is in full swing. It’s no coincidence that it comes as the Queen – who “made the Commonwealth central to her life when she became monarch” – reaches the twilight of her reign. But nor can it be a coincidence that this is all happening after several years of governmental and monarchical misrule in London. The aftermath of the Windrush scandal still leaves a bitter taste. And, albeit on a different scale, it’s worth taking account of some more of Beenie Man’s words: “If Harry was coming, people would react different,” he said. “People are going to meet Harry.” In that sense, the royals really are the authors of their own misfortune.

But with or without the Sussexes, there is an air of historical inevitability to all this. So, what happens next? Ahead of Kate and William’s visit, the Windrush campaigner Patrick Vernon said: “If Jamaica decided it did [want to become a republic], there would be a domino effect on the rest of the English-speaking Caribbean.”

His words may well be prescient. The royal couple flew into the Bahamas, the last leg of their tour, to be greeted by protests on the ground and opposition from the likes of the Bahamas National Reparations Committee. Belize has announced a constitutional review, and late last year leaders including the St Vincent premier were urging fellow Commonwealth realms to attain republican status. The wheels seem firmly set in motion, with the royals’ open-backed Land Rover left spinning in the sand.

This kind of reckoning with reality is long overdue, and, who knows, it may even be a long-term positive for Britain if it helps disabuse our political class of its globe-trotting, Empire 2.0 fantasies. At the very least, now is the time to admit that for many parts of the world, the benefits of sovereign British rule are most heavily felt by the home nation itself. Within our own borders, we may kid ourselves that the monarchy is still a glittering jewel in our crown. But for many people overseas who wish to escape the long shadow of empire and exploitation, the shine has well and truly rubbed off.

Moya Lothian-Mclean presents Human Resources, a podcast about the legacies of Britain’s slaving history

#royals #abolish the monarchy #prince william #kate middleton #duke of cambridge #duchess of cambridge #caribbean #the bahamas #jamaica #belize #slavery #brf #british royal family #queen elizabeth ii

[kedreeva]

And a Nightingale Sang

Crowley stretched his long legs out in front of him, one elbow on the arm rest of the park bench and his other arm sprawled along the back of it. Aziraphale sat beside him as primly as ever, watching the swans curl their elegant necks up and down as they danced with their partners on the water. The sun had hidden behind clouds for most of the day, leaving the summer air cooler than usual, the breeze bringing with it the taste of a storm.

They had just flipped a coin for their jobs in Cambridge, a flip which Crowley had gladly lost for the smile on Aziraphale's lips, and Aziraphale had fallen curiously silent. Crowley was used to this. While it didn't seem to bother Aziraphale much to take on a little temptation – perhaps because he knew he would cancel it out and, Crowley suspects, then some – he tended to have a little harder time with giving up doing the good deeds. Crowley knew that, despite Aziraphale's protests regarding Crowley's character and integrity as a demon, this was not because he didn't trust Crowley to keep his word, so he didn't take offense, They'd been through too much together for that.

So Crowley let him think, and stared out at the birds with him, and had a few thoughts of his own about how swans could possibly tell which other swan they loved, if they couldn't say any words about it.

Eventually, Aziraphale cleared his throat and shifted like he had suddenly realized he'd sat on something uncomfortable, and very, very carefully did not look over at Crowley. "I was thinking..." he began, which was very obvious, though what followed was not, "that we might go to dinner."

Something in Crowley's chest loosened for a moment. He had been afraid to be the one to propose dinner first, ever since Aziraphale had handed him an insurance policy and told him he went too fast. Crowley had tried to back off without seeming disinterested, without seeming hurt, but it had been difficult to find that line when he didn't even know what it looked like.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, a second before he realized something was different. Something about the stiffness in Aziraphale's spine, in the very still way he sat, as if poised to take flight at any second, and a deep, cold fear settled in Crowley's gut exactly the way throwing back a double shot of whiskey did not. He began to catalog ever mistake he might possibly have made that would chase Aziraphale away, ready to apologize for any of it.

"What would you say," Aziraphale said, picking the words as if they might cut him should he handle them too quickly, "if I asked you to the Ritz?"

"Angel, I-" His apology lodged in his throat as Aziraphale's words registered.

The Ritz?

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Perhaps one day we could...

Crowley's heart gave a too-hard thump, as if trying to jump start his brain. There was no way Aziraphale meant it any other way. There was no way he would accidentally suggest the exact restaurant he had offered up as the starting line the moment before he had given Crowley the best way to leave the world forever and the best reason not to do so. The moment before he had laid hope at Crowley's feet, and then left him alone in the car.

The moment before he had permanently ruined Crowley for anyone else.

"The Ritz," he repeated, as clearly as he could, as if he might have simply misheard him. He hoped, quite desperately, that his own tone betrayed that he understood exactly what was being asked of him. "Are you sure?"

"Not at all," Aziraphale said, forcing a smile and finally glancing sidelong at Crowley for just a blink. "But I- I should like to find out, if you don't mind."

"I'd like nothing better," Crowley assured him gently. "Shall I drive, then?"

Though the Ritz was only a short walk away from St. James, Aziraphale agreed to the ride. Unwilling to prove any part of you go too fast for me true while they were en route to the Ritz for the very first time, Crowley drove nearly at the speed limit. He might not always, but if Aziraphale was stepping over the line he had drawn, Crowley didn't want to make him take a step back again.

So he kept a white-knuckled grip on the wheel and let his heart rabbit around in his chest and tried to just keep breathing until he had parked the Bentley down the street. Then he continued to sit there in the exact same manner until Aziraphale finally broke the silence.

"We do have to get out, to go in."

"Right," Crowley agreed, though he couldn't seem to pry his hands off the wheel. He felt like a dog that had been chasing a car and finally caught it, except that he had no idea at all what to do with it. Why did dogs bother chasing cars, he thought frantically, if they didn't even know how to drive them?

He should have thought about this more. He should have planned farther ahead. He should have planned at all.

Aziraphale glanced over at him. "Crowley," he said softly. "If this is- if it's too much, or too-"

"No!" Crowley said, hands finally slacking with such force he fair well tossed himself away from the wheel. He scrabbled at the door as if he'd never opened one before, and finally managed to escape with much less grace than he was normally capable of.

Aziraphale's smile as he joined him outside of the car was thin at best, and although it was fleeting, it was also warm. It left Crowley with the sense that he couldn't possibly be alone in his anxiety, though they might have opposite reasons. Where Crowley felt very much like he'd just been put into someone else's body – and it was a someone else that had no idea what to do with any of their limbs or organs – Aziraphale seemed very sure of every movement he made, his uncertainty stemming from the value of making those moves.

For an instant, Crowley thought to offer his arm, then thought better of it, resulting in the sort of twitch that looked involuntary, and he very quickly took a stride toward the Ritz as he shoved his hands into his terrible pockets. Worst invention he'd ever invented, he thought, unable to hide anything but most of his fingers. He turned halfway back to see Aziraphale walking almost beside him, and Crowley slowed his stride to fall into step.

"You know, I've never been here before," Aziraphale said, in the sort of tone that meant he wanted to talk but also that had no idea where to start.

"Not even by yourself?" Crowley asked, suddenly very uncertain what people talked about on dates. He'd never sat long enough to watch any humans having any, nor gone on them, himself. All of the times he'd gone to dinner with Aziraphale didn't really count, or at least he thought they didn't, since they had often followed business meetings and Aziraphale had done most of the talking about what he'd done while Crowley was out.

"No," Aziraphale confirmed. "It never felt right."

They lapsed into another awkward silence. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale thought it was awkward, or if he even noticed. He rubbed his sweating palms discreetly on his jeans at his hip, without taking his fingers from his pockets. This was an awfully inconvenient time for his body to start acting like one.

Getting a table as soon as they arrived seemed like a highly lucky incident, until he said as much to Aziraphale, ready to tease him about frivolous miracles. Except that Aziraphale simply looked at him like nothing at all was amiss.

"I did call ahead, you know," he said primly, as if the realization that Aziraphale had made a reservation before even asking Crowley if he wanted to go wouldn't steamroll every last functioning brain cell Crowley had.

"Oh," Crowley said intelligently. He took his seat with his hands still in his pockets.

Aziraphale had put thought into this.

It should not have surprised Crowley, because Aziraphale tended to put too much thought into most things, but this particular thing had been Crowley's alone to think about for six thousand years now. It had never occurred to him that at some point he wouldn't be doing this particular kind of thinking alone. He had gotten used to thinking about this on his own. He had gotten comfortable in his heartache.

And now they were sitting side by side at a table in a restaurant that Aziraphale had chosen as the potential end of their friendship, and Crowley was not alone in his thinking and he almost wished he was because it was terrifying to think he might finally have a chance. A chance could go either way. He could really fuck up a chance, and what happened then?

What if he never got another one?

What if this was it, and he managed to mess it up without even really being sure what it was in the first place?

Did Aziraphale have any better idea? Were they even in the same book, nevermind the same page? Crowley didn't read! How was he supposed to-

He nearly jumped out of his vessel when Aziraphale laid a hand over his on the edge of the table. He didn't remember taking his hands out of his pockets, but he must have done, because there it was, resting beside his empty plate with Aziraphale's perfect fingers warm on his skin. Looking up, he found himself snared in Aziraphale's searching gaze.

"It's just dinner, Crowley," Aziraphale told him gently.

Crowley very nearly swallowed his tongue before he could respond, more than a little mortified at his transparency. He cycled through all of the millions of ways to brush off his panic, and what came out of his mouth instead was: "Just?"

Aziraphale's hand didn't move, heavy with the weight of everything they had ever been and everything they could ever be, and Crowley suffered the brief and consuming thought that Aziraphale actually held much, much more than just his hand in that instant. He swallowed, unable to look away.

"It's not like it's the end of the world," Aziraphale joked, with a little bit of a smile. "It's not even business. It's just dinner. Do try to breathe."

"Right," he said. He wondered how close to a lie an angel had to be before it counted. In no world ever created was this just anything. This was six thousand years of hope. This was his heart on his sleeve. This was Aziraphale, and it was liable to break him.

"You know," Aziraphale said slowly, as he perused the short, intricate menu, going right for the desserts because dinner had always been a very loosely applied term to immortal beings who only ate when it suited them. "I got a record player for the shop. The humans call it an antique, though it really isn't that old."

"Oh?" Crowley said, struggling to pay attention to the what was instead of the what ifs. "Do you even own any records?"

"I do," Aziraphale said, drawing the words out into an unspoken but. "I believe you do as well."

Ah, Crowley thought, realization dawning. Aziraphale didn't want to talk about business, and the things he would normally talk about – books and theater and humans he found interesting – didn't normally leave a lot of room for Crowley to join in. Normally this worked out great; Aziraphale loved to talk about the things which made him happy, and Crowley loved to watch him do it.

But this... this was different. This was new.

They weren't here for business, not even for personal business.

They were here for pleasure. The thought put a coil of warmth around Crowley's heart. They were here for no other reason than because they wanted to be together, and as terrifying as Crowley should have found that, he could not help but feel a little thrill at the prospect.

"I've got a whole collection," Crowley said, finally feeling a little calmer, a little better. He may not have come here with a plan, but he knew music. He could talk about music. He could talk to Aziraphale about anything, if that was what Aziraphale wanted of him. "I could bring a few by tomorrow, if you like."

"I would like that," Aziraphale told him, offering a genuine smile, soft and warm. Something tight and stressed in Crowley's chest relaxed. "Maybe you could bring one of your Golden Girls records?"

"My what," Crowley squawked, all awkwardness vanishing instantaneously in the face of such gross indignity. "Angel, do you not know what-" He cut off as he caught the glint in Aziraphale's eyes, the crinkle of amusement at the corners of them, the way his lips pressed together just a little to keep a smile at bay. Crowley was being teased. "Oh, I see. That's how it is."

Aziraphale's amusement grew too great to be contained, and a smile warmed his lips. Crowley could do nothing except smile back, relieved. They were going to be okay, after all.

---------

The ride back to the bookshop was considerably less tense that the ride to the Ritz had been, if no more talkative. Crowley kept both hands on the wheel, and if he drove below the speed limit, he told himself it was only because he got to spend a little longer with Aziraphale. For his part, Aziraphale wobbled between staring out the window and stealing glances at Crowley as if Crowley could not see him doing so.

Unfortunately, even at slow speeds, the bookshop was not far from the Ritz, and ultimately Crowley coasted to a smooth stop just outside of it. Aziraphale did not move for a moment, and Crowley's questioning look earned him only a fleeting glance and a nervous smile. Aziraphale opened the door, and Crowley followed suit, unsure what exactly he was supposed to do now.

He was just getting ready to lean against the outside of his car, arms folding on top of it, when Aziraphale rounded on his heel hard enough to be chasing a decision, and said: "Walk me to my door?"

The words hung stuck between a question and a suggestion, and Crowley plucked them up and carried them all the way over to Aziraphale's side. They were less than a dozen steps away from the front door, and even if there had been danger lurking anywhere nearby – which there was not, because danger wouldn't dare – Aziraphale was still an angel very capable of defending himself.

In fact, Crowley could only think of one reason for Aziraphale to request his company for those few steps, and it sent a little thrill through him, an electric buzz in all of his joints.

For centuries they had kept their same pattern. A work business meeting to begin with, which mellowed out into personal business more often than not. They ended up at dinner, or out to drinks, or sitting through the rest of a play because it would make more of a fuss if they left in the middle. Aziraphale had let Crowley use business as a doorstop and Crowley had let Aziraphale use business as an excuse, and now they were on the doorstep and there was no excuse for it.

"Thank you," Aziraphale said, turning to face him without reaching for the door. "I- well, it was- I had a lovely evening. With you."

"We could do again, sssometime," Crowley said, kicking himself for the nervous sibilance. He hadn't meant to push it, but he couldn't let Aziraphale think he was ready to be done with him, either. "Any time you like."

A smile flickered onto Aziraphale's lips and disappeared just as quickly, though the corners of his eyes stayed crinkled the way they did when Aziraphale was desperately fond of something he ought not to be. "Goodnight, Crowley."

Though that seemed like a fairly damning farewell, Crowley lingered an extra few seconds, not quite willing to be away from the warmth and light of Aziraphale. Something about them had changed, shifted slightly to the left. Last week, a night like this would have ended in drinking. A night like this would have ended with Crowley stumbling out to sleep in his car, if he managed to make it off the couch at all. It would have ended with more time, and he found himself thinking he's fucked it all up if going to the Ritz or on picnics or not going too fast meant seeing less of Aziraphale.

"Right," he said, not sure what to do with his hands or his legs or the abominable sensation of wanting for something that was right in front of him close enough to have and completely out of reach. "Good night, then."

He turned to go, but a tug on his sleeve stopped him before he'd even gotten all the way around. He tensed, looking back over at Aziraphale. The golden light from the bookshop's lamps was not golden enough to hide the pink that flushed Aziraphale's cheeks and ears.

"Angel?" Crowley said, hesitant. Aziraphale had snagged his sleeve in one hand and was just holding gently onto it, keeping Crowley pinned in place as surely as if he'd used all of his considerable strength and every one of his powers.

"I believe," Aziraphale told him, not quite looking at him but not quite not, either, "that this is the point where you should kiss me goodnight."

Crowley's knees went liquid at the suggestion, his breath soft in his chest. He turned back, slowly, and his sleeve slipped from between Aziraphale's perfectly manicured fingers. There was no sign of a joke in Aziraphale's expression.

You go too fast for me, he had told Crowley once, like he wasn't moving at light speed now. Crowley hadn't gone at light speed since before he had Fallen, and this didn't feel all that different, except that the ending must surely be better because it wouldn't be an ending at all. It would be a beginning.

Carefully, slowly, he stepped closer and leaned in, still searching for any sign that Aziraphale would balk, pull back, change his mind, but Aziraphale's eyes slipped closed and his chin tipped up a little, waiting.

Crowley smiled, heart full to bursting, and then he leaned a little further to one side, gently pressing his lips to Aziraphale's cheek. "Goodnight, Aziraphale," he mumbled there, voice a little rough with emotion.

Aziraphale shifted just enough to touch his temple to Crowley's. "Goodnight, Crowley."

Reluctantly, Crowley pulled away and gave a soft smile that Aziraphale readily returned. He could feel the blush hot on his cheeks, but Aziraphale didn't mention it before Crowley retreated for the safety of his Bentley. He stayed long enough to watch Aziraphale get into the bookshop, and then took off for his flat at a speed that was certainly too fast, a little eager to get home.

He had a lot of music sorting to do, after all, and, perhaps, a picnic to plan.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziraphale/crowley #aziraphale x crowley #my writing

[goldenpinof]

omg the europe thing reminded me of how this summer I worked social media/comms for a shakespeare in the park tour. as you might assume, park shows are very reliant on it not being rainy, and this summer was incredibly rainy. Even though we would only find out if we were cancelling the day of, we prob had a lot less money than dan, we had to transport our own lights and sound equipment, and I think an equally large team as dan, we still managed to cancel fewer shows than Dan's team. We might be even w dan if we count the times we had to move indoors .

The day of our first show, we had a tornado warning, flooding and a huge thunderstorm. We thankfully had an indoor location! Except the bathrooms of the location flooded, meaning we could not host a public show. We had to cancel, and that set the tune for the rest of tour... And STILL, by the end of it we were running out of space in the parks. I have no idea what Dan's team's excuse was.

I tried to keep our socials v, v active, so our audience could trust that should there be any changes, they would know immediately (we also told them they'd know by 4pm the day of). They could also message us, and I tried to clarify the voice and personality of the company to emphasize our accessibility. I got really good feedback, and NO ONE said they missed a show bc they couldn't find us, or came to a venue when the show was cancelled. This was my first time doing that type of job, and I'd id like to think i did a better job than dans team lol rip.

Also our shows were free, so unlike w dans audience, our audience wasnt losing money. sigh

ahahahha, you're a hero, you know. that's a crazy and great experience to have! i hope it helps you with any career of your choosing.

i'm not sure if Dan's promoters or venues were sending emails in time. i didn't keep up with it on twitter (where people were more active). i only know about how the communication was done with Oxford and Cambridge postponed shows. poorly. but it was done officially through AXS, they just waited for too long and the text needed editing 😂 also, if people were moved closer to the stage they were getting emails as well.

but keeping socials very active and having updates in one place is such a good tactics! emails are good but sometimes they go to spam or don't come to inboxes at all.

most of Dan's shows were cancelled because of poor ticket sales. only Kitchener was cancelled because the venue wasn't renovated in time (i think). and they couldn't find a replacement for it. they managed to not cancel Auckland despite the flooding. idk who we should credit for that :) that show was handled quite well actually. they waited till the last minute but they offered refunds to those who couldn't make it because of the weather.

but you did an excellent job! 👏 i can't even imagine how hard it was.

#losing money... i mean only on travelling if the show was cancelled and people couldn't refund tickets and accommodation #which can be a lot anyway #answered #wad

[kenneth-williams-diaries]

Kenneth Williams with playwright Joe Orton (1933-1967) during rehearsals for Orton’s play “LOOT” in 1965. The two unique characters first met in 1964.

“LOOT” premiered on 1 February 1965 at the Theatre Arts, Cambridge, directed by Peter Wood. This first version of the play was poorly received by critics and audiences and never made it to the West End. Commentators have pointed out several problematic issues with the first production, from the stylised, monochrome set to the miscasting of Kenneth Williams who resorted to slapstick humour in his role as the corrupt character Inspector Truscott. For Kenneth, this fiasco almost resulted in a nervous breakdown because of his constant fear of failure. Besides he had high hopes for a sucessful revival of his stage career with the help of Britain’s hottest and ‘outrageous’ young writer at the time. In 1966 Orton heavily reworked the script and subsequently won the prestigious Evening Standard Award for Best Play.

Apart from that Joe and Kenneth became close friends. Their relationship had a positive, lasting influence on Kenneth Williams and perceptibly changed his previous life. Like Kenneth, Joe Orton was gay, working class and a prodigious diarist … unlike Kenneth he revelled in his sexuality. Orton lived with his long-term lover Kenneth Halliwell and sought sexual adventure at any opportunity. The freedom of himself and his humour appealed to KW who was so unfree in himself physically and intellectually, bound by conventions. Even if KW couldn’t be in himself unabashed, he could be part of someone’s story who was unabashed, and that was liberating.

But Orton wanted his friend to do more than take vicarious pleasures in his exploits. As Orton’s diary reveals he urged Kenneth Williams to shed his inhibitions and become more like him: “I’m practically guilty about being a homosexual, you see!” he said. “Then you shouldn’t be,” I said. “Get yourself fucked if you want to, get yourself anything you like! Reject all the values of society and enjoy sex! When you’re dead you’ll regret not having fun with your genital organs!”

The friendship worked both ways … Orton was flattered by the attention of a big star and loved his 'show business world’. With Kenneth’s encouragement he made guest appearances on TV game and chat shows. At heart, Williams and Orton were cut from the same cloth: both were highly intelligent and determined to prove themselves in the eyes of the world. Though Orton had failed to revive Williams’ stage career, he did transform his private world. 

In the summer of 1966, Orton and Halliwell took KW on holiday, to a place that would change his life … Morocco. Tangiers in the 1960s was a haven for gay men, drawn there by the availability of sexual partners in a society tolerate of unconventional lifestyle. 

Joe Orton, KW and Kenneth Halliwell in Tangiers, Morocco in June 1966

Typically, Williams approached the Tangiers experience with restraint, mostly wearing suit and tie even on the beach while his friends were sunbathing or went swimming. But while the temptations Tangiers offered unsettled him, Williams couldn’t resist completely. There he could skirt the fringes of a world that both repelled and fascinated him. It offered an escape from his unhappy life at home, and somewhere he could relax and feel part of life.

But the relationship that helped to create these new rhythms tragically ended overnight … on 9 August 1967, Joe Orton was brutally beaten to death with a hammer by his lover Kenneth Halliwell who then took 120 sleeping tablets to kill himself, a gruesome bloodshed with a fatal impact on Kenneth Williams. The loss of his friends confirmed for him the danger of following Joe Orton’s sexual creed. Only two days after this tragedy, Kenneth fled to Morocco …

Wrote to Joe Orton thanking him for being so kind yesterday. He listened so patiently to all my problems - so did Kenneth Halliwell. They are both so kind to me. It is v. nice to have them as neighbours I must say. It’s good to be able to walk up there and see them. 24 July 1967

The BBC wanted me to go on TV and talk about Joe, but the Police will not name Joe Orton as being dead: so the programme has been cancelled. I rang Gordon Jackson and told him. I said no to the BBC anyway. I couldn’t talk about Joe in public - not at the moment. […] Suddenly I realised that the Joe Orton business had gone out of mind for a few hours! It soon came back again. There is something so dark and horrible about the circumstances. Joe Orton - in pyjamas with head injuries, a hammer nearby - and on the floor the body of Ken Halliwell, dead from suicide. Did he have a hallucination or something? Did he fear J. might drop him? It’s all so odd. When I think of the generosity of Joe - his warmth and affection - his kindness to me when I was so depressed - I just want to cry. 9 August 1967

- The Kenneth Williams Diaries

In parts taken from and inspired by the superb BBC documentary “Kenneth Williams - Desperately Funny”

#Kenneth Williams #Joe Orton #Kenneth Halliwell #LOOT #Tangiers #Morocco #The Orton Diaries #The Kenneth Williams Diaries #gay struggles #gay history #gay icons #1965 #1967 #1960s #photo edits #Oh God ... this story is so horrible and sad for these wonderful guys 😭!!!!!! #May they rest in peace ♡!!!! #... sending tons of love up to them 🌈❤🌈❤🌈

[faedawayyy]

SIBLINGS I DESPERATELY WANT - FEMALES

the back stories are very specific but fc’s are up for debate, i guess. 

HADLEE QUINN TW: SEXUAL ABUSE 

21 or 22  OCCUPATION/STUDYING: up to you. SEXUALITY: up to you.

hadlee and brielle always had a rocky relationship. yes, brielle was the child of teen parents but they had hadlee four years younger at just 13/14. she’s gotten used to growing up with the bare minimum and still idolises her parents.  when brielle opened up about her dad, she refused to believe her. she idolises their parents and thought brielle was just attention seeking as usual. this fractured their relationship and bond even more.  now that brielle has moved out, she is starting to experience some of the stuff that her younger sister did. she’s just too proud/afraid to admit it because she feels like if she pushes away her parents, she’ll lose everything. personality: creative, individual, a little quirky at times, friendly but also quite emotionally detached and distant. she always wanted that picture perfect life in high school but was also sympathetic to the fact that her parents were poor and doing their best.

NATES SISTERS: THIS FAMILY IS SO PRECIOUS OMG.

LILIANNA ‘LILLIE’ HARWOOD

27  - 6TH MARCH, PISCES  OCCUPATION/STUDYING: it’s your choice SEXUALITY: asexual   lilianna is the oldest of the harwood siblings and she’s that cool older sibling that the other sisters so desperately wanted to be. she’s the trend-setter of the family and it’s pretty clear to see that taylor, posie, nate and evie have adopted personality traits of hers. she spent her teen years having to fight them off and lock her door to stop them from pestering her.  other than being witty and sarcastic, lilianna was born an over-achiever. she was the only one out of her siblings to attend a private school outside of the springs because she got the grade for a good scholarship. she then set her sights on cambridge for university to study medicine. nobody knows why, but she would put insane amounts of pressure on herself to be a good role-model for the others and was almost like a third parent.  in her second year at cambridge, she eventually burnt out and her mental health broke down. she couldn’t help but feel like she’d spent her early and mid-twenties working, stressing and over-achieving and she missed out on all of the messiness that comes with it.  a secret of hers is that despite being open about her sexuality since she was around 18, she’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. it’s just never happened for her and now she’s seeing her younger siblings date, she’s starting to feel pressured to find somebody. however, she feels like in such a sex-positive generation, it’ll be hard for her to find somebody who accepts her for who she is. she still lives at home by choice and nate’s parents are eager to normalise that young adults/twenty-somethings CAN still live at home. with lilianna’s anxiety still pretty rocky, they’d prefer it that way anyway.

TAYLOR HARWOOD 

26 - 21ST APRIL, TAURUS  OCCUPATION/STUDYING: acting and modelling  SEXUALITY: heterosexual 

if lilianna is the cool, trend-setting older sister then taylor is the *spice* in the family that her other siblings could sometimes do without. it shouldn’t be mistaken; ALL of the harwood siblings love each other and they’re probably as close as families come, but from the moment she was born, taylor had it clear that she was the star. think kim kardashian vs. her sisters; she’s the stand-out and loves to have all eyes on her. she’d be the one signing up for her school’s productions, forcing the others to put on shows for their parents and constantly stealing lilianna’s clothes to sneak out of the house in.  taylor was in stage school from a very young age and during her first year in high school, her mother agreed to fly out to los angeles with her and her agent to audition for different productions; this is where she landed vicotrious. everybody was excited for her and taylor was sure she’d got her big break. as everybody knows, victorious was a huge success and she became a household name at a very young age.  taylor dropped out of school and was schooled on set while she worked. their mother spent most of her time in los angeles while the other siblings stayed home with their dad. in what would have been taylor’s last year of high school, victrious was cancelled and ended. since then, it’s been a struggle to get any work and she eventually moved back home. this was a hard transition for taylor. she felt as if she was washed up at 18 and had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. she went back to school for her final year but was severely bullied by jealous girls and people who were eager to see her downfall from the start. one girl even rewarded her the “biggest has-been” award which completely humiliated her at her graduation after party. unlike lilianna though, rather than retreating and taking some time for herself, she threw herself into more smaller projects. she has a determination to make it and when she got into st judes, it felt like a new chapter for her. she’s already moved out and has her own apartment downtown but happily comes home to see her siblings as much as she can. her life’s goal is to make sure that nobody ever forgets taylor harwood.

POSIE HARWOOD 

25 - 5th AUGUST, LEO  OCCUPTATION: model SEXUALITY: heterosexual 

posie was named after her grandmother; josephine ‘posie’ harwood. compared to her other siblings - nate included - she’s always been more laidback. her parents (and lilianna) more or less dragged her through school kicking and screaming. she rarely had motivation to do anything and just wanted an easy life. more or less the complete opposite of lilianna and taylor.  since posie grew up under two huge personalities with big ambitions, she definitely got to fly under the radar a lot and neglected typical responsibilities you have to remember when you grow up. for example, she got away with dropping ice-skating when all of her siblings were made to stay in extra curricular activities, her grades were never as good as her sisters and all in all, she wore the ‘family disappointment’ badge with pride. she’s quite content with riding their coat-tails for as long as she can.  although lazy, posie is also extremely social and loves meeting people and having fun. she had the most typical teenage years with fake i.d.’s, a string of good for nothing boyfriend’s and riding on temporary highs. her siblings know her as soft and loving, but to people outside the family, she definitely has the label of being the more argumentative one.  when taylor was being picked on in school, it was posie who put things to rest by punching the girl in the face. when a boy broke evie’s heart, it’d be posie to serve him revenge. on top of that, she’s aware that she’s beautiful and her favourite thing to do is string people along, get what she needs from them and then move on to the next best thing.

EVELYN ‘EVIE’ HARWOOD  TW: GROOMING

18 - JANUARY 4TH, CAPRICORN  OCCUPATION: you pick.  SEXUALITY: you pick.

evie is the youngest of the family and adores every single one of her siblings, although by default she’s probably closest to posie and nate. like most little sisters, she’s got a bit of each sibling in her.  but alongside this, she’s also struggled to find her own identity and would often cling to the others in order to feel included and like she had direction in life. evie struggles with dyslexia - a common learning disability - and never found school easy. she’d always had tutoring and that was ramped up when it came to her exams. all of her siblings also pitched in to help her; lillianna with science, posie with english and nate with maths...taylor was a little too busy, but offered the moral support. she passed her exams and she still has it down as one of the best days of her life because she definitely thought she’d be the first one in the family to fail.  after seeing how much fun posie and nate were having at st judes, she decided to try her luck and was even more surprised when she was accepted there too. for the first time in her life, it felt like she was getting somewhere on her own and she was.  her first year at the school has been quiet and she’s struggled a little to form friendships without the guidance of her older siblings. the bigger personalities have definitely overwhelmed her but she’s slowly finding her feet. one person who has particularly been a good support system for her has been her tutor, who helps her manage her dyslexia when lectures and assignments come around. he’s always boosting her up and has at times let her get a better grade than she would’ve got by editing her assignments for her. there have been a few times where she’s been invited to his home; usually with a study group but the last few times have been just her.  she’s starting to feel slightly uncomfortable around him. especially since he’s been making the work harder so that she needs to rely on him more; he also sent her a christmas present this year in the form of a revealing dress and jewellery for her ‘christmas party’..which she isnt sure is fully appropriate.  while she doesn’t feel like she can open up and (quite frankly) is afraid to, it’s made her cling to her other siblings more than before.

[comparatist]

Photo courtesy: Pinterest

Recently read, A Bengali Lady in England. Here's a review.

The travelogue named Englondey Bangamahila penned down by Krishnabhabini Das, a middle class Hindu woman in 1885, while Bengal was under the control of British Raj, presents a plethora of her perceptions about the English rule then. Her colonised entity had managed to criticise the imposition of the English ways upon the Bengali culture as well as praise some of the traits of the same in the said text. She had left for England with her husband in 1882 and remaining there for eight years, compiled her experiences gathered from the journey and the ultimate destination in the form of a travelogue, and had frequently mentioned about how her fellow Bengali sisters can’t experience the same and this travelling, was her way of fulfilling her long born wish of visiting a free nation with free folks asserting their independence without the apparently non-existent social norms restricting their moves. Krishnabhabini dedicated this compilation of her thoughts about the culture which was still alien to the Indian people specially Indian women who were always inside the ‘andarmahals’ and were never allowed to fulfil their wishes by the conservative society.

Though she had started the English ways of dieting and started to dress like the foreigners, she was sceptical about giving away to the foreign values and asserted repeatedly that her way of draping herself cannot make her reject the Hindu culture preserved nicely in her heart. She expressed her criticism about the conservative minds who would cancel her acquaintance for her ways of decking herself in the name of ‘losing’ their caste. The foreign ways which appeared progressive to her got appreciated while the ones that didn’t got compared with the Bengali Hindu ways and were looked down upon subsequently from her perspective. The way her assessment the lives of the English women, follows the same pattern.

When she sees the English woman being responsible for her duties in the public as well as private equally, she realises that there are no such barriers in the foreign land. Here, men and women work together and though ‘the man is the head of the household,’ the family runs entirely by the woman’s efforts. Men here, act as a mere financial support while the woman serves the family both financially as well as a homemaker. What Krishnabhabini fails to understand here is the concept of unpaid labour as the independence of the women in the foreign land grabs her attention as a hold. The Bengali household never pay for a woman’s efforts and didn’t certainly do in the 19th century. The women give labour for the family thinking that it’s her duty to look after the house and her husband and the efforts of care and affection towards them and its results are natural instincts of a woman. The patriarchy runs so deep inside the veins of this households that such a ridiculous idea has been normalised for centuries. The women weren’t allowed to earn then and the idea of being a homemaker for free got indoctrinated inside the women from a very young age. When Krishnabhabini sees the women in England moving at their free will and exerting their power in workplaces, earning sufficiently to support the family, along with her husband, she gets overwhelmed thinking about the women natives of a free nation and laments while remembering the condition of her Bengali sisters in India, though she evidently misses out the concept of unpaid labour and that the English women also being the victim of the same.

She praises the education system of England where the women have the opportunity to study. During her time, Bengali families made sure to get their daughter married off within the age of ten. There was no system for the woman to educate herself and get established in life in India. so when Krishnabhabini sees the chance of women pursuing their studies along with men in the foreign land along with men, in the Universities of London, Cambridge and Oxford, cannot stop herself from expressing her delight about watching groups of young girls going to school or women to pursue higher education and coming out with a degree of Bachelor of Arts and Masters, equally competing with the men, taking the same exams and passing them with flying colours overcoming every obstacle in their way. This changes her way of thinking regarding merit. In the Bengali households, the idea of man being the sole bread-earner and a personality meritorious and strong enough to venture in the public is normalised. It was in England, this sexist notion inside Krishnabhabini gets discarded when she sees the women achieving the same goals alongside the socially accepted strong and mature gender and she realises ‘that women are not inferior to men in intelligence’ and are already grabbing positions of professors and doctors by their efforts and utilising the already present independence there.

Alongside the education, she notices how the women in England get the opportunity to learn extracurricular activities like dancing, singing, piano etc. Though they get to mix freely with men, and as a result of which the men from her country consider the English women of ‘loose morals’, the women there are loyal to their husbands and take care of them even while having the opportunity of engage with others. This idea of chastity which is patriarchal to its core receives her appreciation. She further continues to say things like ‘only the uncivilised and barbaric races do not know how to honour the chastity of women while all civilised and developed nations believe chastity to be the prime religion of women,’ in order to support her idea.

The time when Krishnabhabini is writing this text, was a time when women barely had any independence let alone the opportunity to move out of the house, receive education and form an independent opinion of something. Krishnabhabini addresses the core problem of colonisation here. It’s the practise, the normalisation of imposed ideas and in this case it was patriarchy forbidding the women. Her ideas had flaws but she expressed her grief about how Hindu men control women through a leash and thus have made them so subservient that if the women of India or say Bengal ever receive the independence the women of England experienced, they wouldn’t know how to use it ‘properly’, but then which child learns to walk on the first day itself?

#study aesthetic #study blog #study hard #studystudystudy #studyblr #study tips #study notes #study #study motivation #study space #studyabroad #studying #student #study inspiration #studyinspo #studylustre #studyspiration #studyspo #assignment #content writing #content creation #creative #creative writing #A Bengali Lady in England #new books #book review #book quotes #book blog #bookblr #bookish

[areiton]

End of Year Recs - 2019

It’s the end of year fic round up time--and this year I’m doing things a little different. I’m gonna do my favorite two fic for each ship or gen pairing I really enjoyed this year, and then (up to) five honorable mentions. 

So here--without particular order, my faves from the year!! Also this is long as hell so hit read more for...more... 

Irondad

we’re gonna have to do this together by edibna (Irondad | MCU)

Being a superhero sometimes means you forget about the small dangers in the world, like disease. For Peter, this means he loses May to natural causes, not something he could ever save her from.

Unknown to him, May left custody of Peter in the hands of Tony Stark, who, even though he wants kids, has no idea how to actually raise one. With a grieving superhero teenager on his hands, Tony is going to have to figure it out quick, if he wants Peter to ever be able to move on and be happy.

Webcams and Webshooters by losingmymindtonight (Irondad | MCU)

Once Peter's relationship with Tony gets out, the public can't get enough of their new favorite father-son duo.

So, naturally, they monopolize.

(Or: Tony and Peter's relationship, as seen through videos.)

Honorable Mentions:

Put out every star

Holdfasts

i'm the satellite (And you're the sky)

stars, hide your fires

miscommunications

 ~*~*~ 

Winteriron

fractures (filled) with liquid gold by itsallAvengers (Winteriron | MCU)

Ultron happened. The Avengers left.

Tony is fine with being alone again. He always worked better as a Lone Wolf than a team player anyway. He's not sleeping or eating or resting or... living, but it's fine. It's good. It's okay.

And then there's James.

illuminate me by Half_SubmergedinPurgatory (Winteriron | MCU)

Tony isn't a healthy man. He's fine with that, really. It makes perfect sense. Unfortunately, he has a job to do that kind of has his health as a major requirement. So he unmakes himself, remakes the Accords, protects every single child super that enters his field of view, and hopes ferociously that the Avengers never come back to the US. He doesn't spend any time at all rebuilding Bucky Barnes' life. Not a single second. Anything he does that contributes to him is simply an accident.

Bucky is a patient man. It's ok if Tony wants to ignore him for now. He won't be able to forever.

(Somewhere in the world, a sense of dread crawls up the back of Tony's spine)

Honorable Mentions:

a street corner in Cambridge

does it hurt

the road less traveled at the end of the line

scars

looking at you

 ~*~*~

Sambucky

winter, sweetheart by wilsonsnest (Sambucky | MCU)

To know the Falcon’s identity feels surreal to Bucky. It means nothing. As far as Hydra was concerned, Sam Wilson was erased. He has only ever been The Falcon and to Bucky he’s always been Sweetheart.

we could jump state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard (Sambucky | MCU)

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

Honorable Mentions:

seek out hidden places

not an end, but (the start of all things)

cancel all your reservations (no more hesitations)

they gave you a heart, they gave you a name

you touch me within and so I (i know I could be human once again)

 ~*~*~

Starker

Stipulations by anonymous (Starker | MCU )

Peter Parker’s longterm dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in...

And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

mr. hurricane by spqr (Starker | MCU)

Peter makes it to the ripe old age of 26 without anyone finding out he’s Spider-Man. And then he falls asleep during a B&E at Stark Tower, and the rest is—well, the rest is this.

Honorable Mentions:

Both Ways

breaking point

velvet elvis

the leash

left hand free

~*~*~

Thorki

along a deserted highway by trieduntrue (Thorki | MCU)

The events of Thor (2011) take a different turn when both Thor and Loki are sent to Midgard without their powers as punishment for their misdeeds. With nothing except each other, they go on a journey to reclaim Mjolnir together.

soft shocks by stereobone (Thorki | MCU)

"And why," says Thor, "would I need to come with you to Jötunheim?"

"Ah, well," Loki says. "They may be under the impression that we're married."

Honorable Mentions:

How Long We Were Fooled

we spent our darkest days howling at the moon

~*~*~

Ironhusbands

touch the sky by scrollgirl (Ironhusbands | MCU)

Jamie Rhodes wouldn't be who she is today without her friendship with Tony Stark. The flip side of that is Tony Stark wouldn't be Iron Man without the twenty-five years he's been in love with her.

twenty five years by Not Applicable (Ironhusbands | MCU)

Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on. (Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

Honorable Mentions:

a date on the moon

home for the non-holidays

reconstruction

pretend we're in love (the heartache still hurts)

i place your hands around my neck

 ~*~*~

Winterhawk

silhouette by mariana_oconnor (Winterhawk | MCU)

After a mission in Mexico goes wrong, SHIELD Agents Barnes and Rogers are given the job of hunting down the notorious Hawkeye and the Black Widow, the only problem being: no one even knows what they look like.

On the other side of the law, Clint's enjoying messing with their new SHIELD shadows, especially seeing how close he can get to Agent Barnes without him realising, but he makes the mistake of getting attached, and that makes everything more complicated.

nameless by AvaKelly (Winterhawk | MCU)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Honorable Mentions:

What do you mean we left Clint on Mars

clint barton's super secret snipers' club

lucky in love

i'll keep you safe here with me

complications

~*~*~

RPF

the end of the missing by eadunne2 (Evanstan | MCU RPF)

Sebastian remembers this from before, Chris’s physicality, remembers shoving and tripping one another, and hugs that lingered. It had been silly, friendly, until some vague, unspoken moment towards the end of filming when their relationship had changed again - Chris circling Sebastian’s wrist with his hand, or a palm to his lower back, only on rough days, only when Chris noticed him tensing up against unpleasantness in his own mind. At first Seb wanted to apologize, brokenness is a tiresome trait, but the actions seem to calm Chris too, ease his busy brain. When they lost touch Seb pretended not to miss it; he wouldn’t have had a chance to anyway, right? - with two dozen excellent fuck buddies all over the globe. Weird how they all had blue eyes though.

I would lose my decadence (for your love) by deadhearts (Stackie | MCU RPF)

The thing of it was that Mackie had just been trying to make a point. He'd just been trying to shut him up, or to make something clear, and he'd done what he'd set out to do. Sebastian had been well and properly put in his place. He'd been put in his place so well that Mackie had never touched him again, not in that way, because he'd never had the need: whatever question he'd been asking had been so thoroughly and roundly answered that there wasn't any need to ask it twice.

Honorable Mentions:

Like O, Like H

when you kiss me i just gotta say (baby i love you)

cross the line

fine until you're not

 ~*~*~

Stucky

ain’t no grave (can keep my body down) by spitandvinegar (Stucky | MCU)

It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.

For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don't. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It's very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters.

I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU.

Steve sits down hard on the steps.

there should be stars by childhoodinfamy (Stucky | MCU)

“All memories to tell you the truth aren’t good.

But sometimes there were good times.

Love was good. I loved your crooked sleep

beside me and never dreamed afraid.

There should be stars for great wars

like ours. There ought to be awards

and plenty of champagne for the survivors.”

- Sandra Cisneros

 Or, it takes them decades.

Honorable Mentions:

This, you protect

little animal lives

the long game

a long winter

the art of cooking for two

 ~*~*~

Stony

never too late for love by Sineala (Stony | MCU)

Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one.

Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in.

And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark.

wait and sea by lenalena (Stony | MCU)

In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Honorable Mentions:

celestial navigation

the song without words

dear mr fantasy

slipping off the page into your hands

the twice-told tale

~*~*~

Stuckony

hide a heart of war by  Hummingbird_52 (Stuckony | MCU)

“You’ve got war in your heart boy,” Howard sneers, “don’t ever try and pretend to be anything but what you are.”

Tony feels the familiar burn of a flower mark being etched into his skin but he doesn’t look, doesn’t try and check to see what it is. Instead he keeps his eyes on Howard and his hands cupped around his bleeding mouth and nose.

the stories we write by NotEvenCloseToStraight (Stuckony | MCU)

A question at an interview leads to Steve and Bucky discovering fan fiction, and after piles of coffeeshop au's and fake dating tropes (and screaming over ABO fics) they find an author that writes some of the best fics they've ever read-- reader inserts starring a dark haired, dark eyed male reader as their shared love interest.

The platonic fics are heartfelt and sweet, the smutty fics have them tearing their clothes off to act out scenes, the soulmate fics have them crying over the true love that so often ends with the Reader passing away and Stucky being left behind.

Then one day, a fic posts with a scene taken right out of their lives, one that happened right there in the Tower, entirely the same right up until they take the Reader to bed.

Bucky is the one to realize the writer is Tony.

Steve is the one to suggest writing fics of their own to show Tony they return his feelings.

Writing fics to show an author you're in love? What could possibly go wrong?

Honorable Mentions:

eagles

branded

imagine you and you (and you) and me

#arei reads fic #stony #stucky #sambucky #irondad #starker #winterhawk #winteriron #MCU RPF #stuckony #ironhusbands #thorki