#(he also knew me for FIVE YEARS before i transitioned)

[iniquitousyearning]

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their reaction to the fact that you want a child🤍

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f)

A/N: Orders are always open for you!

🤍🤍🤍

The beginning of each headcanon will be the same.

You were sitting in the living room reading book about motherhood, when your boyfriend/girlfriend came into the room and noticed you.

Cho Hyun Ju

- Baby, what are you reading? Your face is so focused that I feel uncomfortable. - your girlfriend said jokingly, sitting down next to you.

- Yes, nothing important. - you quickly hid the book under the pillow, but Hyun Ju could not be deceived, she immediately realized that something was wrong here.

- So..- and cleverly took out of the pillow the reason for your sadness, when she read the title of the book, she thought for a while, and then looked straight into your eyes.

- You..do you want to be a mother? - not knowing how to answer correctly, you just nodded silently, you knew that your dream was not destined to come true.

- But why didn't you tell me before?

- And what's the point... if nothing works out anyway. - It even seemed to you that your words offended the girl.

- Why did you decide that it wouldn't work, baby? I also want a child very much. And if the reason is that I will soon make a complete transition to a girl..then it's stupid. We can adopt a child or..or find a good sperm donor for us, and in general! I didn't do all the operations, we can try, my love. You don't have to be silent about that.. - she spoke with such tenderness in her voice that you almost cried.

- I'm sorry, I just thought you were against the children. - for these words you got a light smack, after which the girl took you by the hand and dragged you to the bedroom.

- What are you doing?!

- Let's go try to make your dream come true, after all, I've been ready for children for a long time.

Kang Dae Ho

You've wanted to talk to your boyfriend about this topic for a long time, but you've been waiting for the right moment and now it has come. He just got back from work and went into the living room, where he saw you very serious, he immediately tensed up.

- Honey, did I do something wrong? - he asked cautiously, to which you only pointed your finger at the place next to you, he silently fulfilled your request.

- I've wanted to talk to you for a long time. In general, we have been together for a long time and are planning our wedding.. I want a child. - after which you handed him the very book that he began to look at uncertainly, he looked at you, then at it.

- Oh, honey, are you sure about that? A child is a huge responsibility.

- Yes, I'm completely confident in my decision.

- Yes, I see that you are very serious. - he smiled softly, patted you on the head. - I also want a child, especially a daughter who will look like you. But since I want our child to be healthy, we have to go through some doctors, take tests and so on, and then..we can start..well, you get it..- he said slightly teasing you.

Still, you are very happy that you have such a good future husband, I am sure he will be a good father for your future children.

Se Mi

- Honey, I'm at home. - said your girlfriend, returning from the store, but she was met by silence in response, you were too immersed in reading.

She went to the living room, where she saw you reading a book, the girl had good eyesight, so she immediately saw what the book was about and was surprised.

- Do you read book about motherhood? - you almost jumped in fright when you noticed Se Mi, you wanted to hide the book, but realized that there was no point.

- Yes, I read.

- You don't just read them out of curiosity. Do you want to be a mother? - she sat down next to you, taking your hands in hers.

- Yes, there is such a desire.

- Oh, sweetie, you understand that in our situation it will be difficult, and in general.. I would like to live for myself first, just you and me. And after..in five years, can we come back to this topic again? Okay? Just don't think that I'm judging you or against you!

- I understand everything, really. And I think you're right, we need to get back on our feet first. - she smiled softly at you and kissed you on the lips.

Thanos (Su Bong)

Thanos suddenly flew into the living room that you were even a little scared, and he laughed a little at you.

- Don't be scared, lord. In short, listen! Soon Nam Gyu will come, I warn you right away so that there would be no misunderstandings later. - you listened to him carefully, of course you are not very happy with the situation, because these two make a lot of noise, which is just horrible.

- What are you reading by the way? - he came closer to you and took the book from his hands, saw the title, was horrified and gave it back to you. - You throw this dope out of your head. I'm not ready for children at all, what to take from them? They just scream, ask for food and shit! No, no, no, I don't want to. If you want, I'll buy you any animal, but not a child in the house. - you already wanted to say something, when he interrupted you again. - so, I went to cook snacks, Nam Gyu will come soon. By the way, join us, it will be fun. - he sent you an air kiss and ran to the kitchen, leaving you to digest everything he said.

All you realized is that with a person like him there will never be a child. After all, he himself is like a child who needs constant control, and since he also has a friend who is a fool like him... you have just two children who are in the body of adult guys.

🤍🤍🤍

[wethotcrazy]

LET'S PLAY A FEW

pairing: Zhou Guanyu x Streamer! Reader

word count:

i have been cooking this up in my brain for so long now, like it has been weeks that i've been meaning to writea guanyu fanfic and now here it is yippie also i wrote this because guanyu is very dear to me and i am just gutted that he wont be racing next year

The stream was alive with the low hum of background music and the click-clack of Y/N’s keyboard. Her Tuesday night streams were a familiar routine for her viewers—three hours of CSGO, now smoothly transitioning into Valorant. She’d solo queued, half-focused on the game, half-focused on her chat. It was a relaxed vibe tonight, her soft voice filling the gaps as she responded to questions.

“Y/N, who’s your favorite agent?” one viewer asked.

“Hmm, depends on the day,” Y/N mused, squinting at the game. “But I’m leaning toward Jett lately. Fast, flashy… plus, I’m a sucker for knives.” Her words were accompanied by the sharp sound of her clicking through weapons.

Her team switched to defense. She’d been holding B site alone and wasn’t too concerned. “It’s always quiet until it’s not,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the entry points.

And then it wasn’t quiet.

The enemy team pushed hard—four, no, five enemies storming the site. Y/N’s demeanor shifted instantly. She stopped talking mid-sentence, leaning forward, her entire focus honed in. Chat knew what was happening. They’d seen this mode before.

One.

Two.

Three clean headshots in rapid succession. Her chat erupted.

“SHE’S COOKING,” someone spammed.

“Demon time activated,” wrote another.

Four down, one left. Y/N’s crosshair tracked, and with one swift flick—the fifth player dropped.

“ACE!” Chat’s excitement exploded, emotes and all-caps filling the screen.

“Nice ace,” a voice said, calm and steady. Y/N’s body went rigid as a soft kiss landed on the crown of her head. Her breath caught in her chest.

Slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she turned her head to see Zhou Guanyu standing there, his face calm as ever, hands in his sweatpants pockets. His eyes met hers with an easy grin, one he’d worn countless times but somehow always made her heart stutter.

“Are you solo queuing right now? Want me to hop on?” he asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find the words. The situation wasn’t particularly funny, but a wave of giddy laughter poured out of her—that helpless, uncontrollable kind.

“I’m… I’m streaming right now, Bǎobǎo,” she said through breaths of laughter, wiping at her eyes.

Guanyu’s eyes flickered toward her monitor, realizing what had just happened. His gaze shifted to the camera. “Oh. Hi, chat,” he said with a casual wave like it was any other Tuesday night.

Pandemonium.

Chat’s messages scrolled too fast for Y/N to read. Everyone was freaking out. The calm, private nature of their relationship had only left the fans guessing. Speculation had been rampant, but this? This was confirmation.

“NO WAY THAT’S GUANYU.”

“WTF OKAY BOYFRIEND REVEAL.”

“Bǎobǎo?????????”

Y/N’s face was red as she tried to focus on the chat. “Alright, alright, calm down,” she said, fanning herself dramatically. She glanced up at Guanyu, still grinning like a fool. “You’re unbelievable.”

Guanyu’s only response was to tilt his head, his grin never wavering. “You’re the one who’s blushing,” he teased before walking off toward the kitchen.

Three years earlier, Guanyu had been just another viewer in Y/N’s chat—a regular with a verified checkmark that made him stand out. People recognized his name, but Y/N didn’t at first.

“Zhou Guanyu…” she read aloud, squinting at the name in her chat. “That’s… a Formula 1 driver, right? Chat, you’re messing with me.”

“No, it’s actually him!” chat exploded.

Sure enough, he’d donated with a message: “Big fan of your streams. If you’re ever down for games, I’m in.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “No way that’s real,” she muttered, half-laughing. But over the next few weeks, his presence became a regular occurrence. Guanyu’s name appeared in her chat, his playful comments lighting up the screen.

Then one day, he sent a Discord invite.

“Let’s play a few,” his message read.

He wasn’t what she expected. His sense of humor was sharp but subtle. He wasn’t loud, but he was confident. Their first few games were filled with banter and easy laughter. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just "streamer and viewer" and became… more.

Soon, he’d hop into her streams without warning. His voice was instantly recognizable. Their interactions sparked thousands of clips on Twitch. Fans flooded her social media with theories. “Are they together?” became the constant question. They never confirmed or denied it, and after a while, the frenzy died down.

But when Guanyu’s race schedule allowed, he’d appear on her stream. Sometimes he’d just be a voice in the background, sometimes he’d play with her on-stream, and sometimes, like today, he’d forget she was streaming entirely.

Back in the present, Y/N’s chat was still in shambles. Guanyu’s sudden appearance had sent them into a spiral, and Y/N’s notifications were pinging nonstop. She’d read a few messages aloud, fighting the urge to laugh all over again.

“‘Tell him to come back’… No, he’s probably playing with Sweet Corn right now,” she joked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Does he call you Bǎobǎo?’” she read, the grin on her face growing wider. “Yeah, yeah, he does that sometimes. It’s…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning again. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, Guanyu wandered back in with a bowl of fruit in hand, offering her a piece of mango. She took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, still half-laughing.

“Mmm,” Guanyu hummed in response, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” she said softly, her voice quieter this time, almost just for him.

Chat caught every word.

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Anime Awakenings Round 2 Side A Poll 9

Propaganda:

Haruhi -

"When I was a young kid she was sooooo gender to me and honestly she still is. Seeing someone who turned looks in both masc and femme clothing and be so comfortable being perceived as whatever gender made me hella envious. She'll be your handsome girl and your cute guy at the same time and little me wanted that more than anything. Also seeing her pull guys and gals of all types and her just being so nonchalant about not caring about gender whether it's hers, others, or who's attracted to really spoke to me. Now I'm a femboy trans guy and it's probably because of Haruhi and maybe her bisexual genderqueer dad, they're my icons."

"G E N D E R. I wish I could give as few fucks about my gender as Haruhi does about hers. Like, she does identify as a girl, but she genuinely does not care if people see her as a boy or a girl or something in-between, she just wants to be judged on her strength of character. And I was always so obsessed with that aspect of Haruhi's character literally from the first time I watched the anime five years before I started consciously questioning my gender."

"Seeing them disguised as a boy for most of the series (without being upset by it or seeing it as a joke even) made me understand I was transmasc better."

"Despite mostly using she/her, Haruhi's non-caring attitude about her gender helped me in my journey of learning my own nonbinary identity! She acknowledges she's afab but that means next to nothing to her! She doesn't care if people use he/him for her, she doesn't care if she's thought to be a boy by many others, she doesn't care whether she even presents as more feminine or masculine. Even if she's not canonically nonbinary, I consider her important to my journey in discovering I'm nonbinary."

"She gave me a deep desire to be a girl like her, because I've always wanted to be a tomboy when I transition, so she was a very early instance of that gender envy. Add in all the romantic situations she's in with girls as a host, really fed the lesbian in me."

"The fact I actually started the anime because I thought it was yaoi and I found the mc cute (because that's the kind of guys I was into at the time) and when I realized Haruhi was actually a biological girl the attraction stayed even when they were wearing girl clothes and I kinda had a bisexual huh. moment. Also not only did I want them I wanted to BE them, they looked good femme and masc and watching them be so chill about their gender was genuinely… enlightening? Idk all I know is I put less pressure in trying to be a "girl" after I finished the anime. Also just look at their big soft brown eyes, it had 12 y.o. me in a chokehold. Also, that anime was genuinely good when it came to fashion like there's some clothes trends there that no one wears today anymore for good reasons but the characters all somehow make it work still."

Mello -

"BPD canon homosexual twink with the most feminine body type ever and i am currently taller than he is despite me being transmasc-ish and Irish and him being allegedly cisgender and Balkan (where the average height is 6'). i saw this man and knew that i needed his gender Immediately."

[supernova1885a]

I love angst, make my fav characters suffer is basically a tradition.

So I have all this lore that I made up myself while playing based on confusing events and dialogues, so I decided to illustrate a little bit of what the transition from happiness = tragedy would be like in the relationship of these two. I don't know what the hell I saw in that spider but I love them and that's precisely why I'm going to make them suffer, you're welcome.

I MUST CLARIFY that everything I say in this post is not canon or is partially based on the canon of the game. Don't take this as something official, I just want to share a little of my interpretation of both the story and characters. Also that Shamura is a she/her to me, but I will refer to her as they/them in this post.

After Shamura found the others, they moved together to Silk Cradle and worked out what their new life would be from now on. Shamura made very strong bonds with they new family, but especially with Leshy and Narinder, although due to his insistence they spent more time with the latter.

They used to take him with them to their temple and show him the spider webs that decorated the place, as well as teach him to weave and other things. Being the eldest, they had to impart the learning of their siblings as well as help them assume their places as divinities. All with enormous love and affection that grew with the passage of time.

Years later, the five of them grew up and left Silk Cradle to begin to reign in their respective kingdoms. Because Narinder's kingdom was not earthly, he was the last to leave.

Shamura was the one who made and gave their siblings their robes, it was a last gift from them before not seeing them again for a long time. They could not hide their happiness, although along with it there was a slight feeling of sadness, but they knew well that they could not keep them with them for life and had to let them follow their paths.

Of course, there are times when with bad guidance the paths can go awry. Shamura loved their siblings, perhaps too much and that made them very permissive regarding certain actions that they did. Narinder was fed up with his position and decided to go further, breaking the laws of nature, Shamura had a bad feeling but when they realized it was too late. Narinder felt betrayed when they reproached him, because it was thanks to their knowledge that he had done what he did and now they was angry with him.

Maybe it was the tension of the moment that increased with each reprimand from they that caused him to attack them, maybe it was anger or he just didn't know how to control himself. From one moment to the next Shamura fell to the ground, a warm liquid began to stain their face, the screams of their siblings could be heard in the distance and a sharp pain began to overwhelm them. Fear, anger, sadness, pain, they had never felt so many emotions at once, they didn't know whether to cry or scream, whether to get up or stay there, until suddenly everything went completely dark.

Shamura was cared for by their siblings until they was stable, but the pain from their wound was not the only thing that began to bother them. With it came severe headaches, vertigo, dizziness, and memory loss. Despite all that and the harm their beloved brother had caused them, deep down in their damaged heart, they still loved him.

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I haven't worked on this beyond the main concept yet, but I wanted to share it with you guys instead of just leaving it to writing and my imagination! I'm thinking about making a few comics about it, I have a lot of ideas I want to put down here. Thanks for reading!

[hibiscus-intern]

Fit check for my new internship! This freighter ship is super cramped. You can barely see anything in the mirrors! I'll h- uh. Sounds like the Captain... Curly, I think? Sounds like he broke the news to my new boss. I'd better go check that out. AMA and I’ll get on it after my shift, yeah? Apparently we only get like, five hours of sleep! Aw man, I don't know anything about... Recording ended.

ASK BOX IS OPEN!

A/N and guidelines under cut! Please read before sending :]

Hi and welcome! I haven't run an ask blog in years, now, but this isn't my first go at it so I'll hop right into some rules and guidelines for interaction!

As a canon-adherent Mouthwashing blog, themes of abuse, assault, institutionalized misogyny & violence against women, capitalist and patriarchal hierarchies, rape culture, ageism, etc. can and likely will be explored. I am 21 years old and as such will tackle adult topics! I gently ask that people who interact do their due diligence not only to keep themselves safe but also to respect the severity of the themes in the games when engaging with Daisuke. While lighthearted asks are more than welcome, this is a blog run in earnest and out of a genuine interest (personal and scholastic) in the themes in Mouthwashing. I will tag with trigger warnings as I see appropriate. Thank you!

With this in mind, the blog is canon-compliant, meaning Daisuke only knows what Daisuke knew in-game (thus far, only pre-crash)! For example, he is not aware of Jimmy's true nature. Please bear this in mind when interacting and please do not be too surprised if his answers aren't as critical as a player of Mouthwashing might be. But not all questions have to be explicitly about the game canon! Feel free to ask personal questions or pose hypotheticals--I will tag headcanons and non-canon responses as appropriate. This is still a blog made out of love and for entertainment purposes!

I will periodically update the transit time in the blog description to reflect when in the voyage the questions are being answered from. If you want your ask answered from a specific time into the voyage, just add it in your ask! For archival purposes, the date at which he answered the question will be recorded in the tags :D

My name is Clem (he/him 🇲🇽🇬🇹), feel free to directly ask me things you're curious about!! 💗

Small shoutout! The creation of this blog was inspired by @/ask-anya-anything, whose posts I ran into over on Twitter! Absolutely an incredible writer and artist you should totally check out!

Thanks a bunch! Hope to hear from you soon ☀️

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Five

Chapter Summary: On her last night in Velaris before she heads home, Elain and Azriel finally gets a chance to talk about what's going on between them.

Word Count: 5.9k

Missed the first four chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: As always, thank you for all the love on the last chapter of this fic. It's always so much fun to hear what you guys think. An extra thank you for your patience with me in getting chapter five out. This past month has been a rough one and I haven't been writing much because of it but I finally managed to sit down and finish this chapter and I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you are too. As always, I must remind you that this is a slow burn and we must get through a heavy dose of angst before we can reap our reward. The good news is, the reward is coming very soon.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

The first time Elain had sex with Graysen was also the first time he’d asked her about the necklace. 

It was the last week of January and he’d invited her back to his apartment after he’d taken her out to dinner at a glamorous hotel that offered unbelievable views of the city for their fourth date. She’d seen the invitation for what it was. Knew exactly what he had in mind from the way he’d lowered his voice to ask her, the pad of his thumb sliding over her bottom lip. Elain had only hesitated for a moment before she’d accepted his offer, Nesta’s voice in her head from a night years ago when she imparted some wisdom to Feyre after a particularly bad breakup, her hands on Feyre’s shoulders as she looked into her teary eyes. 

“Fey, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” 

Elain had laughed at her sister’s advice at the time but standing there outside the restaurant that night, looking at Graysen as snowflakes drifted lazily from the dark winter to sky to cling to her hair and eyelashes, she’d decided that she wanted to put Nesta’s advice to the test.

She’d spent weeks in a daze, unable to sleep as the memory of Christmas night played on repeat in her mind as if it was some sort of faulty film reel incapable of moving past a certain scene and insistent on torturing her. She had grown sick of it - sick of the guilt that consumed her for still daring to think of Azriel. For wanting him again even though she had been the one to leave. 

Dating Graysen had only done so much to take the edge off, providing her a few hours of distraction each week, but she needed more. She needed to attempt to replace the phantom feeling of Azriel’s weight on top of her, the feeling of him inside her.

In a way, sleeping with Graysen had helped. She’d always liked sex. She enjoyed being close to another person, appreciated the immediate intimacy that came with having a pair of hands gripping her hips and someone’s lips on her skin. In the few times that she’d pondered what Graysen would be like in bed, she’d suspected that he would be much like the other guys she’d been with over the years and she’d been right. 

His initial careful kisses had quickly progressed to deeper, bruising ones. The gentle hands that had slowly undone the zipper on the back of her dress had transitioned into firm hands that held her down and maneuvered her whichever way he liked, taking her how he wanted without taking a second to even check if she enjoyed the things he did.

Elain was used to this treatment. The rough sex. She’d come to like it - crave it, even. But every now and then, there was an occasional moment where her partner would leave and she’d be left by herself in a cold bed, thinking about things a little too long until angry tears welled in her eyes at the realisation that most of the men she’d been with felt entitled to do whatever they wanted to her. That no matter how respectful they may have been towards her or how much they genuinely liked her, they all seemed to get off on debauching a girl that was otherwise quite reserved. Graysen had been no different and because she’d always desired touch, she couldn’t help but take it however it was presented to her. 

Graysen had taken the small golden pendant in between his fingers minutes after they’d finished, propping himself up on one elbow until his shadow loomed over her. His thumb had dragged over the engraving on the front - smoothing over the intricately detailed rose- before he flipped it over to study the back, turning it this way and that until it caught the little bit of dim light streaming in his window from the streetlamp outside. 

“What’s the deal with this?” He’d asked her, the slightest edge to his voice. “You never take it off.”

Elain had tried her best not to freeze at the question but she couldn’t help the way her heart stopped for a split second before her heart rate picked up again, slamming against her chest like an anvil. She gently took the pendant back from him, easing it out of his grip to press it tight against her chest until she knew it would leave an oval shaped indentation on her bare skin. It was a grounding tactic, something she did to bring herself back into her body whenever her anxiety veered out of control.

What was she supposed to tell him? How could she begin to explain the necklace that she’d worn religiously every single day for the last four years? The sentimental value that such a small object held? 

She couldn’t exactly tell him that every time she touched it, she thought of the hands that had made it just for her, thought of the way those same hands had grazed her skin the night Azriel had fastened it around her neck and all the things those hands had done to her the last time she’d visited home before she started dating Graysen. When she’d been propped up on Azriel’s kitchen counter and splayed out in his bed. 

There was no simple way to explain that she’d never mustered up the courage to ask whether the tiny ‘A’ he’d engraved on the back stood for her last name or his first. 

Instead, Elain had settled for the most honest answer she was willing to give him at the time. 

“It was a birthday gift from a friend back home.” 

She’d never thought that they’d get to the point where she’d have to divulge exactly who that friend was, let alone have that friend and her boyfriend in the same room together. She’d been a fool to think that Graysen wouldn’t put two and two together and last night she’d been well and truly caught out. She’d stood in front of him like a deer in headlights, one arm wrapped defensively around her stomach while her other hand clutched the necklace tight in between her fingers as if she was afraid that he’d reach out and pry it right off of her. 

“Is he or is he not the friend that gave you that necklace, Elain?” Graysen had asked her once more, his lips pressed together in a firm line. 

Elain had hesitated for a moment but she knew there was no way around this. There was no lie she could possibly make up to steer him away from the truth. It was plain as day who had given her that necklace and so all she could do was just nod silently and try to keep her hands from shaking.

“Unbelievable,” Graysen ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “He’s not just a fucking friend then, is he? Didn’t seem like he goes around making jewelry for all of his friends.” 

He was right. Azriel had never made anything for anyone except her. It was something that Feyre and Nesta never let him forget.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Elain took a deep breath, dropping her necklace back down and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “A friend made me a necklace for my birthday. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Did you date him?” He’d asked, his gaze unwavering as he stared her down. Daring her to try and lie to him.

“No.” Elain answered easily and honestly. “We never dated. Never even came close to it.” 

Even if she’d spent plenty of time daydreaming of what it would be like to date Azriel, she’d never pursued anything more with him for reasons that were all too complicated to explain.

“But you’ve fucked him.” 

He hadn’t phrased it as a question. It was a statement, his shoulders squared and his voice sure. 

Elain had hesitated a second too long and she watched as something settled in his eyes that made her realise that he’d been hoping he’d been wrong and was sorely disappointed to find out that his assumption was correct.  

“How many times?”

She had scoffed, shaking her head. Couldn’t believe that he would have the audacity to even ask her that question. 

She’d been about to open her mouth to argue back, to ask him what number would qualify as too many times or if knowing how many times she’d slept with Azriel would affect anything, but the sound of footsteps running down the hallway caused her to pause. 

She’d been saved by her nephew who had popped his little curly-haired head around the door to Rhysand’s study to innocently ask if she’d read him a book before bed.

Elain hadn’t even spared a second to look at Graysen again before taking Nyx’s small hand and allowing him to lead her up the stairs to his bedroom where he spent entirely too long picking out his book for the night. 

She slipped out of Nyx’s room an hour or so later, only padding down to the kitchen to say goodnight to Feyre and Rhys, before heading back upstairs. She’d been simultaneously relieved and disappointed that Azriel had left just ten minutes before with Nesta and Cassian. 

Elain had tiptoed into the room she and Graysen had taken over for the weekend, had quickly changed and silently crawled into bed, facing away from Graysen who excused himself to bed not long after their ill-fated conversation. He’d sidled up to her after a couple minutes, pulling her back against his chest while one hand slid up her stomach to cup her breast. 

“Gray,” she tried her best not to flinch away from his touch. “We can’t. Not here.”

“El,” he muttered into her hair. “Come on.”

“Thought you were mad at me,” she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her as the hand that wasn’t circling her nipple dipped under the waistband of her underwear.

“You can’t blame me for being jealous when someone else looks at you like that.” His teeth scraped over the sliver of skin that the stretched out neckline of her shirt left exposed.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” Elain whispered, biting down on her lip as he turned her around and pulled her on top of him. 

He ground his hips upwards, letting her feel him hard against her. “Prove it to me.” 

She wasn’t particularly in the mood for this but she relented, allowing him to lift her shirt over her head before she bent down and pressed kisses all the way down the center of his chest. 

This was the opportunity she needed - not to take her mind off anything that had happened that day. There was nothing that could keep those memories at bay. It was simply a distraction, exactly what she needed to hopefully keep Graysen from asking more questions that she wasn’t ready to answer.

She’d give him this, let him have her just how he liked while her mind wandered elsewhere. To a place where the hands on hips weren’t his but someone else’s. To a night that featured her fingers buried in dark hair while a pair of hazel eyes looked up at her from between her thighs. It was wrong - so unbelievably wrong - to think about someone else in a moment like that. But she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty as she let herself get lost in the fantasy of tattooed, golden skin sliding over her own bare skin.  She was only thankful that Graysen’s hand was over her mouth to keep her quiet because if it hadn’t been, she would’ve had to fight to keep a different name from slipping out from between her lips. 

One more night. She just needed to make it through one more night and then she could go back to her new city and do what she did best - pretend that the life she had in this town, and the person that she was when she was here, didn’t exist at all. 

…

A few months before their wedding, Nesta and Cassian had moved to a sprawling property on the outskirts of Velaris that featured a gorgeous ranch style home complete with the porch of Elain’s dreams - one that wrapped around the entire perimeter of the house and featured a built-in swing to the right of the front door. It was picture book perfect and it helped to ease the loss both Feyre and Elain felt when Nesta moved… even if she was only a forty-five minute drive away. 

Elain had always looked forward to spending a weekend at Nesta and Cassian’s. She and Feyre would pack a bag and head up to their cousin’s house where the three of them would sit shoulder to shoulder on the swing, a thick blanket draped across their laps as they watched the sun set over the mountains. If they were lucky, Cassian would bring them snacks and drinks until either bugs or the cold sent the three of them heading back inside. 

This time, instead of a gossip filled car ride with her sister, Elain and Graysen had made the journey in almost complete silence. She had hoped that they’d made their peace last night but when she’d awoken this morning, it was clear that there was still some awkwardness lingering between them… perhaps at the knowledge that the subject of their argument would be sharing a wall with them tonight.

He hadn’t left her alone for even a second since they’d walked into the house to find Azriel already there, a dish towel slung over his shoulder as he chopped onions for whatever it was Nesta had on the menu for the evening. Even when she went to greet Azriel with a hug, deciding that it would be more suspicious if she greeted him any differently today, Graysen’s fingers had stayed on her back.

She remained patient with him, pushing aside the anxiety she felt at his constant proximity. She did her best to reassure him any way she could that he had nothing to worry about, all the while hoping that maybe she could convince herself of the very same thing in the process.

There had been no ducking out of his arms or dodging his kisses tonight. There had only been soft smiles and reassuring touches at all the right moments. Still, she couldn’t help that as she stood around the kitchen counter with her family - her attention had shifted, catching the subtle flex of Azriel’s forearms as he leant forward, his hands wrapping around the lip of the counter as he spoke to Cassian.

It was the smallest movement, barely noticeable, yet it triggered something in her brain that thrust her straight back into the memory that she’d tried and failed to avoid for the past few months. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else, unable to tear her eyes away from the familiar ridges and veins of his hands. The heat of Graysen’s palm flat against the middle of her back faded into nothing as she remembered the taste of cinnamon and cream. Remembered the way she had once been perched on a counter so similar to the one they were currently standing around. The easy way Azriel had slotted himself between her knees, her dress rising up her thighs. The feeling of his fingers dragging up her legs until they slipped under her hem. The gentleness with which he’d touched her. She swore she could feel his breath against her neck. Swore she could hear the things he’d whispered into her ear that night. 

“Helloooo… Earth to Elain!” Feyre’s voice brought her back to reality, her sister’s hand waving in front of her face as Elain’s vision cleared and she attempted to remember where the hell she was and what she was doing. “I asked if you wanted another drink?” 

Elain could only nod, afraid of how her voice might betray her if she attempted to speak. It didn’t help that she was all too aware of the way Graysen watched her, blue eyes once again filled with the suspicion she’d been working so hard to keep at bay as he  tracked her gaze to the pair of hazel eyes that were now staring directly back at her from the other side of the counter.

She readily accepted the margarita Feyre handed her, not wasting any time before downing half of it in one go. She’d never needed a drink more in her entire life. 

… 

Azriel stood directly outside the kitchen. He hadn’t turned any lights on when he’d wandered out a little while ago so it was just him, the stars, and the tiny smoldering ember of amber light flickering at the end of the lit cigarette slotted in between his index and middle finger.

He was utterly exhausted, eyes bleary as he tried and failed to link the stars together to form a constellation. He’d tried to fall asleep but he was too distracted by racing thoughts of the way Elain had looked at him from across the kitchen counter. The fleeting want that had appeared in her eyes - there and gone in a second, a lingering blush on her cheeks the only evidence that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. He told himself it was just the margarita in her hands that had caused the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks but he knew her better than that. He knew all her tells. 

That’s why it had hurt even more to see her disappear down the hallway and into her room, her piece-of-shit boyfriend in tow. Azriel didn’t know how long he’d lasted laying in bed before he’d gotten back up and stumbled outside, too paranoid about each and every noise that he could hear from the room that shared a wall with the one he stayed in each time he found himself crashing at Nesta and Cassian’s for the night. 

If Graysen had been annoying at Nyx’s party yesterday, he’d been ever worse this evening because he’d scaled up the charisma and had seemed hell bent on befriending Azriel only to then become increasingly quietly irritated when Azriel made it clear that he was completely disinterested in anything that even remotely hinted at any sort of camaraderie.

He’d also taken to being even clingier with Elain. Hadn’t given her even a second to breathe all night, trailing behind her every chance he got, pulling her back into his side any time she strayed more than a few inches away. Even stranger, Elain had seemed intent on appeasing him and had stayed faithfully by Graysen’s side the entire time. She hadn’t even disappeared for a moment alone with Feyre and Nesta to talk about whatever the hell those three talked about whenever they were left alone together. All Azriel knew was that it usually resulted in raised voices, either in the form of an argument or incomprehensible half sentences interrupted by high pitched giggles as they all spoke over each other. 

Azriel saw Graysen’s overbearing behaviour for what it was - insecurity. 

Insecurity that came with a front row seat to the realisation that his prized girlfriend had an entire life before him. Without him. That she had family and friends that cared about her. 

Azriel had a feeling Elain’s life in Meadowview revolved heavily around Graysen. They probably spent time with his friends. Went to his favourite restaurants. Did his favourite activities. He wondered if she’d managed to retain any part of herself when she was halfway around the country, isolated in a bubble with Graysen, with no real escape other than her job. 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions, to assume that she hadn’t been able to maintain a sense of self. He hoped for the best, desperately wanted to be wrong, but he knew her too well to know that he most likely wasn’t far off.  

He wanted to talk to her about it to try and decipher for himself exactly how she was doing but he hadn’t been able to get her alone - either because she’d been avoiding him or because of the five foot ten, blonde, walking trust fund  who’d been glued to her hip for the past eight hours. 

That’s why when the lamp in the kitchen switched on, the soft golden glow illuminating the window over the sink, it felt like a prayer was answered. 

He didn’t know exactly how he knew that she’d been the source of that light or that she’d be the one to walk outside but he knew when he turned to look, she’d be there - hair gilded by the light behind her. It was something about the gentle way the storm door creaked open, the feather light footsteps against the wooden floorboards. Something about the even, familiar rhythm of her breath.

He’d managed to get in one last deep drag of his cigarette before she was standing beside him, close enough that her arm brushed his. She reached up, lazily taking the cigarette from his fingers. She studied it and for one singular moment, he wondered if she’d surprise them both and take it between her lips. But this was Elain and so all he could do was huff out an amused laugh as she frowned, letting the cigarette fall to the floor until she could snub it out with her slipper covered foot. 

“Filthy habit,” Elain muttered. 

It was only then that he really allowed himself to look at her. He was thankful for the little bit of light from the kitchen lamp as his eyes traveled from her feet and up her bare legs to the hint of lilac shorts that he could only see the ruffled hem of because they were largely covered by the sweatshirt that fell right down to the top of her thighs. 

It was a Velaris University sweatshirt that at one point had been black but now resembled a faded gray and included a smattering of tiny holes around the stretched out collar. That sweatshirt had been missing from his closet for the better part of a decade. She’d had it in her possession for so long that Azriel wasn’t entirely sure that she would even remember who its original owner had been. It’s why he didn’t let himself read too much into her wearing that particular sweatshirt while sharing a bed with someone else. 

His eyes continued their journey upwards, over those full lips and the perfect slope of her nose. All the way up to drowsy, brown eyes and the tousled hair that he hoped and prayed was just the result of a restless night’s sleep and not the other option that sprung  to mind. 

Her eyes were fixed on him, clearly drinking in the sight of him just like she’d done when he’d first walked into Nyx’s party. 

There was a beat of silence between them, neither of them really knowing where to begin now that they were alone together. 

“Hi.” Her voice was barely a squeak, nervous and high and he couldn’t stand it. Hated this awkwardness between them. Hated that she felt any level of unease around him. 

“Trouble sleeping?” He raised an eyebrow, offering her a slow, sleepy smile that he hoped would work to put her at ease. 

Satisfaction settled in his chest when he saw her shoulders relax a little, at least a fraction of the tension she held within her melting into the night. 

He fought the urge to reach out and touch her, to place a hand on the back of her neck and slide his thumb around the knot he knew he’d find there. He resisted the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could see her face without it being half hidden in shadows. 

“Yeah,” Elain nodded. “Couldn’t get the fan to work and I need…”

“The white noise,” Azriel finished for her, another wave of satisfaction flowing through him at the first upward tilt of her lips. 

“What about you?” Elain asked, her gaze still focused straight ahead. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that,” He replied, schooling his expression into one that would hopefully hide the real reason he was awake. “At least it worked in my favour this time.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It means that I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with you for two days now.”

“Oh,” she bit her lip. “Well, yesterday was so busy with all the kids and then tonight has been a lot as well…• 

“Yeah,” Azriel laughed, leaning into her just enough for his arm to press against hers. It was meant to be an innocent, playful touch yet it still managed to send a spark straight down his spine. “It was the kids that were keeping us from talking and definitely not because you’ve been actively avoiding me.” 

“I didn't think it would be so obvious,” Elain groaned, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. “I was hoping you wouldn't notice.”

“I notice everything about you, Lain.” He adjusted his stance slightly, pivoting at the waist so he was turned towards her. “Always have.” 

There was another second of silence as she looked away from him, nervously running a hand through her hair. “You can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true, though.” He shrugged, choosing to move on with the conversation before she could ruminate on that any further.“How have you been?”

“Thought you noticed everything about me.” He could practically hear her smirk even through the sleepy rasp of her voice and he loved it. Appreciated the fleeting moment of playfulness. Of normalcy. “Shouldn’t you know the answer?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“I’ve been good,” Elain still didn’t look at him. Her eyes were focused steadily, stubbornly ahead. “Meadowview is good. Work is good. Everything’s good.”

“Say good one more time and maybe I’ll believe you.” He hadn’t missed that she’d neglected to mention her boyfriend.

“Funny,” she rolled her eyes. “How have you been?” 

“Fine,” he shrugged. Then, before he could stop himself he asked her one of the questions that had been haunting him since last night. “Why have you never told me you didn’t like when I called you  ‘Lain?’” 

Elain paused, her brows furrowing. She clearly hadn’t expected that question from him. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Last night… Graysen said that you didn’t like it when he called you that. You said that you preferred to be called ‘El.’” 

She ducked her head, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she looked down at her feet. A surefire sign she was embarrassed by something. “I only like it when it’s coming from you.” 

He bit back a smile, rocking back on his heels in an attempt to dull the sudden rush of emotion he felt at her admission. 

“Thank god.” He pressed a hand to his chest in a show of relief. “I’ve been worried that I’ve been unknowingly pissing you off for the past ten years.”

Azriel chuckled, teeth dragging over his lower lip as she turned to look at him. She gave him a wry smile and a shake of her head and though he wanted to live in this moment forever, he couldn’t put it off any longer, there were far more pressing matters to discuss.

“Lain,” Azriel let out a breath, his smile slipping into something more serious. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “If you’re upset or if I misread the situation that night, I’m sorry but just tell me so I can -”

“Azriel, we can’t.” She whispered, cutting him off before he could even get out everything he wanted and needed to say.

“What?”

“I can’t… we can’t talk about this.” Her voice was strained, her hands twisted in the cuffs of her sweater.

“We have to talk about it, Elain.” He insisted. “It’s been months of silence and we can’t keep going like this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she swallowed, shoulders once again tensing as she turned to face him. 

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. 

Even with such scarce lighting, he could see the blush that crept up her neck as she defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“Nothing happened. It’s fine.” Elain said, her voice low. “It was just sex. We got caught up in the moment and that’s all it was.”

“Just sex,” Azriel shook his head. “You wouldn’t have left and stopped talking to me if it was just fucking sex.” 

He’d always prided himself on maintaining a mask of cool composure around other people but it always seemed to falter around Elain. He couldn’t hide from her. Had never felt the need to. This was no exception.

“I didn’t -”

“Don’t.” He interrupted her. “Whatever you’re about to say about not cutting me off or about things being fine between us, it’s absolute bullshit and you know it.” 

“Azriel,” Her voice broke, splitting his name into two halves. “I shouldn’t have left and I know that and I’m sorry but I just can’t…”

“Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret it?” He asked again, making a point to look directly at her. “Sleeping with me. Do you regret it?”

Azriel watched as she closed her eyes, one hand of hers coming up to clutch at her necklace as she took a deep breath. It felt like a lifetime before she finally spoke. 

“I only regret it in the sense that I can’t stop thinking about it.” He could barely hear her over the crickets and the frogs and whatever other nocturnal creatures occupied the field around his friends’ home. “I only regret it because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t make sense of her saying exactly what he’d hoped but never dreamed that she’d go as far as admitting it. Suddenly, he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. It was involuntary, really… the way he reached for her. One arm extending, his hand mere inches from her hip. The tips of his fingers just grazed her sweatshirt before she stepped back, just out of his reach. 

“Az.” The pounding of his heart came to an abrupt stop in his chest as he watched her eyes fill with tears. “It happened and it was good and I promise you I don’t regret it but I can’t do this. We just can’t…” 

“Just tell me why you left then, Lain.” He pleaded. “Full, complete honesty. I just want to know why you left without saying anything. I thought - everything was fine when I fell asleep.” 

“It doesn’t matter now, Az.” She wiped away a stray tear. “What’s it going to solve? What’s done is done.”

“It does. I need to know. I need to understand.” 

“I don’t know why. I wish I did but I don’t...” she started. “I panicked and then I realised how awful I’d been for leaving like that and I thought you’d be upset.” She took another deep, wavering breath. “I thought you hated me.”

Her voice was once again so small, so timid. It shattered every part of him. 

“Elain,” Azriel reached up and tugged at his hair just so he had something to do with his hands. Too afraid that he’d reach for her again. “If I were capable of hating you, this would all be a whole lot easier.” 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, tears falling faster now. “I’m so sorry that it’s like this between us but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“I just want my friend back, Lain.” He said gently. “I’m not asking for anything more than to have you back in my life as my friend. I miss you so fucking much and if the only thing that’s stopping you from talking to me is what happened between us that night then we can forget it. If that’s what it takes, we can agree to pretend it never happened.”

“It’s not that easy. You know it. I know it. It’s been months and I can’t forget it.” She shook her head. “It’s just easier this way, Az. You and me… we just can’t be friends the way we were. Not right now at least.”

“You don’t mean that, Elain.” His nails dug into the palms of his hands. “I know that’s not what you want. Look me in the eye and tell me you mean it.”

He waited for her to seal their fate. To look him in the eye and tell him that she’d meant every word. That she really wanted nothing more to do with him. But she didn’t look him in the eye. Didn’t really look at him at all. She only stepped further back, her gaze fixed on some arbitrary spot above his right shoulder.

“I miss you, Azriel. More than you know.” Her voice broke as she began to turn away from him, walking towards the door. 

“Wait,” he followed behind her, his fingers closing around her wrist to stop her from reaching for the handle of the screen door. 

She didn’t pull away from him this time. Didn’t try to step back. She just twisted around to face him fully, her pulse rapid under his touch. 

“Do whatever you need to do.” The words left him in a rush. “ Go home, think about things. I can handle you being with someone else, I’ve done it for a decade… but please…. please don’t stay with someone that doesn’t make you happy just to prove a point to yourself or to me or to anyone else.”

There was another stretch of silence to accompany the crease that formed in between her eyebrows as she mulled over his words.

“Goodnight, Az.” She stepped forward, her chest against his. He released his grasp on her wrist  just in time to wrap his arms around her waist as she reached up on her toes and slung her arms loosely around his neck. Every part of her pressed against him for a split second. It was over before it began but he felt the cool, dampness of her tears against his cheek as her lips brushed his skin just once before she pulled back from the hug.

He let her go, his fingers slipping slowly from her skin. “Goodnight, Lain.”

Elain disappeared inside the house and the kitchen light flickered off a few seconds later. Azriel turned back around, sitting down on the porch step after pulling a stray cigarette and lighter out of his back pocket. He closed his eyes and counted to sixty. When he opened his eyes again, he was right back to what he’d been doing fifteen minutes ago, before she’d come outside. 

Once again, it was just him, the stars,and the dim light from the lit end of his cigarette. He didn’t know how long he stayed out there going over what just happened but he was still there, staring up at the sky and rehashing answers to questions he couldn’t decide if he regretted asking when the sun began to rise.

[beemoon17]

Testosterone Update: 5 months

I am five months on t! I had my dosage upped by my doctor like a bit over two weeks ago! He offered to allow me a smaller jump up or a larger one, depending on my goals and desires. I opted for the larger jump up because I don’t have ANY desire for a slow or drawn out transition personally.

Changes I’ve noticed since starting!

1. My first twoish months I had a bit of increased anger. It’s steadied since then and I’m fine. Going to the gym helped significantly!

2. Increased horniness but nothing that prevents me from day to day business. I haven’t noticed any change in the way I experience orgasms.

3. Hair on my neck and jaw, I’m hopeful in the beard department although I know it can take years, the initial changes for that have been great! I also have my mustache, which I adore, and I’m growing hair under my lip too! It is very noticeable, everyone in my life has complimented me on it!

4. Increased body hair everywhere, darker body hair. I’ve always had dark and thick body hair, I had it everywhere. More than any cis women I knew, and in places some cis women I knew didn’t really grow hair. It’s wayyy more now though. I love the increased and darker stomach hair! Obviously increased/darker ass hair, leg hair, arm hair, armpit hair. Everywhere. One other noticeable change is the fact that I’m now growing hair on my thighs like the hair on my lower legs has always been, thick and dark, it’s not 100% there but it’s starting to get there.

5. Bottom growth: definitely noticeable! I’m wondering if I’ll have more growth with the increase in dosage! I love the growth I do have, think it’s cool as shit!

6. I am wayyy happier. Like I was happy before, I’d made some life changes that had me living several months depression free before I started t. Honestly I didn’t think I could get any happier than I was, and then I started t. I’m happy, I’m ridiculously confident, I’m excited for everything. Life is the best it’s ever fucking been!

7. Voice change!! So excited!! I love my deeper voice! I’m hoping it will continue dropping cause I really love it. On the singing note, I’m not a serious singer, but I’ve always had a decent voice and enjoyed singing. For the last few months I’ve struggled with singing, but I’ve been practicing and working on control, and this last month I’ve had a lot more control and I think I still sound decent like I did before! My voice is noticeably different though, I love listening to my comparison videos!

8. My mom says my shoulders are filling out and broader or whatever, says my shirts fit different! I’ve never been good at noticing that kind of stuff but I believe her! I know it’s early for fat redistribution but honestly I do feel like there’s something different about the way my whole body kinda looks when I look in the mirror?

I think that’s it in terms of changes! I love everything!! If anyone has any questions I’d be happy to answer them, just reach out!

[themculibrary]

Admin Favorites Masterlist

Tori

All's Fair in Larb and War (ao3) - phonecallfromgod ned/peter T, 23k

Summary: Ned Leeds just wants to transition painlessly into college life, but that's easier said than done when Tony Stark has a personal beef with you, Liz Allan's back in town, and your roommate and your superhero boyfriend hate each other (but just don't know it yet).

A Mother Always Knows (ao3) - readergirl1013 T, 16k

Summary: Five times Winifred Barnes suspected her son was one of those sort, one time she knew for sure, and one more time.

assume a defensive stance (ao3) - hoosierbitch bruce/clint T, 4k

Summary: No one can understand why Bruce and Clint are together. Clint's loud, brash, irritating--exactly what Bruce doesn't need in his life. (Also, there are sandwiches. Of LOVE.)

Fake (Date) It Til You Make It (ao3) - Blizzard_Fire bruce/clint M, 6k

Summary: ‘Hey Doc,’ Clint said one morning, strolling into the lab, ‘Can you date me?’ Bruce frowned up at him. ‘Why?’ ‘To fuck with Tony, mainly.'

Bruce and Clint start fake-dating to mess with the others. But then it becomes a question of how long they can keep this up, and maybe their “dates” aren’t quite so platonic anymore…

fed up with hunger (ao3) - frankoceansmoonriver steve/bucky, steve/oc N/R, 10k

Summary:��“What do you wanna talk about? How I’m gonna have to marry some girl with perfect ringlets and you’re gonna marry some girl who’s smarter than both of us combined, and you’ll be right to? What is there to talk about? Quit being a dumbass and just go to sleep.” He says it so matter of fact. He says it like none of it bothers him. Steve sighs. “Nobody is gonna marry me,” Steve says softly. He lays back down and goes to sleep. In the morning, Bucky doesn’t mention it and neither does Steve. They go back to not talking about it. Maybe they never will. Or, the one where it’s 1939 and sometimes Steve thinks that having is worse than wanting.

From a Distance (ao3) - VolceVoice clint/phil, clint/steve T, 35k

Summary: “I jump into stuff,” he said. “Leap first, think later. And I’ve always seen things better from a distance. Guess I don't have to tell you that.

“So when you wanted to keep us on the QT, I assumed it was to keep the gossip down, so no one would think I was a way to get to you or that I was sleeping my way to a level five. I got too close, too fast to see that the reason you didn't want to tell anyone is that you just weren't that into me.”

love carved out of caring (ao3) - luthien82 clint/phil T, 25k

Summary: It's just a normal day at the office: an alien invasion, the Avengers assemble and fight, and they lose radio contact with Barton. Except that this time, it's not really a normal day at all, as Phil Coulson finds out soon enough when he is confronted with a three year old Clint Barton and no idea what happened.

Minefields (ao3) - arianapeterson19 T, 34k

Summary: Being in an abusive relationship was a bit like needing glasses. He didn’t realize it until the damage was done.

Funny how people assume only men can be abusive.

No Magic Would Save Me (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic) pepper/tony M, 20k

Summary: Once upon a time, an angel with the unlikely name of Pepper came to the circus, and took Clint away.

On the Doorstep (ao3) - CeliaEquus background bruce/phil, future clint/steve G, 12k

Summary: Clint Barton didn't mean to pass out in front of Stark Tower. He was just waiting for the Avengers so he could ask them to visit the homeless shelter before it closed. He never expected them to try to recruit him.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.

peter’s stars (ao3) - IronPengu, parkrstark steve/tony T, 175k

Summary: Steve and Peter lose their apartment and are kicked out on the streets. Steve has to juggle between jobs to earn whatever money he can, take care of his son while resfusing to let him realize how much they’re trouble in, and keep them warm and safe on the city streets in winter.

So, he really doesn’t have time to date the billionaire that flirts with him everyday as he buys his cup of coffee. Even if he did, he can’t let himself fall for the man. Because if he knew that he lived from a backpack and showered in a public bathroom there’s no way he’d still want him…right?

Showdown (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint, steve/tony T, 13k

Summary: Bucky was happy for Steve, he was. But did he and Tony have to be so disgustingly romantic all the time? // In which Bucky is tired of Steve and Tony's antics and Clint suggests revenge, which turns out with an additional bonus.

That Moment Divine (ao3) - synonym4life bucky/steve, bucky/ofc E, 61k

Summary: “‘S okay. It don’t have to mean nothing,” Bucky said, trying to convince himself as much as Steve. “‘S just rutting. Just a bit of rutting.”

His lips were so dry, his mouth too, and his throat, but the rest of his body felt like hot languid liquid was flowing through it. Steve swallowed, licked his lips. Maybe Steve’s mouth was dry too?

One hot summer, when Bucky and Steve are fifteen, the line between their friendship and something new that Bucky can’t quite name blurs. It is only years later that the line disappears completely and Bucky can finally put a name to that something.

We'll Haunt This Place (The Two of Us) (ao3) - ElloPoppet clint/steve, sam/bucky E, 25k

Summary: Huh. Captain America showing up at his farm unannounced in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon with a suitcase. Somehow, not the strangest thing to ever happen to Clint. Not even the strangest way he had been woken from a nap, honestly.

we’re pretenders (ao3) - snufkin103 steve/bucky N/R, 10k

Summary: Bucky sets up a double date. Things don’t go as planned.

burnie

21st Century Brooklyn Boys (ao3) - kaosNotRefundable T, 121k

Summary: In which Steve & Bucky from the 1930s wind up time-traveling to the 21st century and finally run into each other...sort of. Brooklyn’s still Brooklyn. Only bustling, shiny, and very expensive. Bucky wants to know why this little yahoo of his is now Big and Sad. And Steve’s pretty certain the last time he saw him, Bucky wasn’t a very confused, quiet, long-haired, dangerous version with so many knives…and a metal arm…

OR:

Who’d’ve thunk procrastinating an arts assignment could save two pals in another century?

aka odessa (ao3) - sirendoom T, 3k

Summary: Natasha was given a mission years ago to escort an engineer but encountered a mysterious enemy along the way.

A Three Part Plan (ao3) - GrannyUnicorn T, 12k

Summary: Bucky was bored.

He’d been staying in Delacroix for nearly a month now that not much was happening since the flag smasher business. Turned out Sam was actually serious about that ‘long vacation’ thing, though the ‘separate’ part seemed to have slipped his mind. Which was fine. This was nice. In the beginning. But Bucky wasn’t used to sitting still, so after one and a half day of sleeping, reading, and looking out over the docks, he had started to get restless, latching onto any opportunity to distract himself.

And then John Walker mysteriously shows up on a boat and asks for his help. This can't go wrong, right?

(I mean, you've seen the tags and the answer is: yes it can)

here is my hand that will not harm you (ao3) - andibeth82 clint/laura T, 18k

Summary: It starts the day they assign him to Laura Morse.

It starts as something he wants nothing to do with.

And then, it becomes something more.

Inevitable (ao3) - imgoingtocrash pepper/tony G, 11k

Summary: When Pepper rounds the corner from the elevators, it's quite a scene.

A swathe of guards are crowded around one particular wall. A few feet away, employees are clustered, whispering and gawking.

The main focus of which is...a girl. A little brown-haired girl curled against the wall. Her eyes are closed, but she’s holding out a hand in defense. A hand plated with red and a glowing sphere encased in her palm.

What is that thing?

Morgan Stark appears in the Stark Industries atrium in the year 2006. Tony and Pepper attempt to get their future daughter back home while dealing with the implications that her existence has for their relationship.

Seventeen (ao3) - Face_of_Poe G, 2k

Summary: Sam Wilson is very happy chasing cold leads on their missing person's case; said missing person is less keen on the matter.

Subject to Change (ao3) - missingcrowdsof1000s, Write_To_You bruno/kamala, aamir/tyesha, muneeba/yusuf, past wanda/vision T, 48k

Summary: An ever-evolving back-and-forth narrative that asks the question — what will it take for Kamala Khan to finally realize that she’s in love with Bruno Carrelli?

Ships Passing in the Night (ao3) - osprey_archer T, 2k

Summary: Hydra releases the Winter Soldier for the Battle of New York. Steve Rogers is 100% thrilled to meet a fellow frozen World War II soldier, even if he was a Soviet.

The Beacons (ao3) - boopboop M, 7k

Summary: To be great, a man must first be broken.

James Falsworth has extensive experience when it comes to taking good soldiers and making them great. His methods have been proved time and again, and though harsh, they always get results. He's never failed to break a man, never failed to prepare him for the horrors that await.

Until Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes throws a spanner in the works.

The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins (ao3) - Sholio T, 6k

Summary: Steve starts to notice someone's been in his apartment while he's not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers.

The Courting of Tony Stark (ao3) - boombangbing pepper/tony, pepper/rhodey, pepper/happy, tony/joanna, tony/rumiko T, 50k

Summary: It only takes her nine years to say 'I love you' back.

Thermotemporal Equations (ao3) - Blinky The Tree Frog (blinkytreefrog) T, 48k

Summary: Bucky Barnes is used to strange happenings; his time with the Howling Commandos has guaranteed that. He's therefore not totally thrown off balance when he wakes up in an extraordinary tower in a seemingly impossible year. He can’t help but be worried though, no matter how much reassurance he's getting from Steve and his new team.

The Sound of Silence (ao3) - Jac_Danvers ana/edwin T, 24k

Summary: On the eve of the German invasion of Hungary, Anna Zellner was a Jewish shop girl who wanted nothing more than to keep her head down and her family safe. She never thought that selling a tie would draw her into a dangerous world of secrets and spies. A world where her only hope is a bumbling British attache. The story of Edwin and Anna Jarvis, featuring a healthy dose of Howard Stark.

Wrong About You, Wrong About Me (ao3) - betterthanworse M, 30k

Summary: It's effortless, really, for Bucky to slip once more beneath the blanket of Hydra’s conditioning; old patterns slipping back into place, nice and easy, as natural as breathing.

Or,

In Madripoor, Selby gets to name her price. Sam and Bucky must keep up the charade for a little while longer.

(You Can’t Choose) What Stays and What Fades Away (ao3) - Taste_is_Sweet steve/bucky G, 3k

Summary: At some point in everyone's life, the first words their soulmate will ever say to them will appear in deep black writing on their skin.

The words fade to light grey when a soulmate dies.

Sometimes new words replace them, whether they're wanted or not.

(These were the words Steve was born with, running in a messy, uneven line across his skinny little chest, beneath both his collarbones: You okay, pal? Those jerks didn't hurt ya too bad, did they?

Steve woke up from the ice in 2011 with the words, Who the hell is Bucky? circling his heart, in printing so precise it barely looked human.

Steve hated them.)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for unintentionally getting my cousin’s number and not tell him i’m not a date

I (24 FtM) came out as a trans queer man to my extended family when i was 18 years old, despite my (queerphobic) parents’ disagreement, fully knowing the reactions wouldn’t be positive for the majority. i was just done with having to hide, and indirectly be ashamed of, this huge part of myself to the people i used to grow up with, and couldn’t bare keeping it a bashful secret any longer, putting myself at risk to lose touch with them all. which happened. gradually, i lost contact, or intentionally cut contact, with most of my family members (close and extended), moved out and started transitioning. i also got top surgery last year, and am now four and half years on T.

so i did change, physically and mentally (for the better), to the point i know some people from my family who haven’t seen me in five years, wouldn’t recognize me if i didn’t tell them.

all this to say: a little over a week ago, i went to this gay club / bar, when i was asked my number by a guy who was there too. i knew i knew him from somewhere else, but i was a tipsy, dizzy from dancing my lungs out, and the lightning was tamed, so i didn’t catch on immediately and couldn’t properly see his face, and so i simply accepted to exchange numbers. nothing else happened with this guy this night, i only added my num to his contacts, talked and maybe flirted a little, and then he had to leave (he was with some friends).

only hours later, back home, will i realize this guy was in fact my eldest cousin (26 M) in with whom i haven’t talked in five years. i remember he was one of the only person who didn’t react badly to my coming out, though he didn’t quite understand it either. i had to cut contact with him when his mother, my aunt, tried to call and threat me through him / by calling from his phone number so i wouldn’t hang up immediately.

we used to be very close, and though i have moved on now from my family life, i do catch myself missing him from times to times, and would’ve like to contact him again. i just didn’t know how, and was scared he might have started agreeing with the rest of the family on my account. but by his presence at the gay club, i suppose not.

i didn’t text him right away to tell him i was, in fact, his cousin, and not just a random dude he met at the bar. i still don’t know how to approach this. three days ago, he texted me first, asking if i would like to meet up again. and, without thinking, i said sure. and still didn’t add on the crucial information. i am scared of what might happen if it tell him. would he suddenly resent me? or worse, call back our family and tell them what happened of me, giving away where i now live. i don’t want to contact with the rest of them again, but if i could gain my favorite cousin back, maybe just as a friend, it would mean a lot to me.

i still haven’t texted him, and i won’t lie and say i haven’t been contemplating the idea of just, never telling him, and just say i’m not ready for more but would love to stay friends. we are supposed to meet at the beginning of next week.

and before you guys start thinking anything weird, i do not, in any way shape or form, want to pursue anything of sexual nature with my cousin! i think this is, as well as being immoral, a disgusting and horrendous idea

What are these acronyms?

[baker-coded]

Barbie and Ken {S.H.}

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Steve Harrington x reader

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 870

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Steve sees you for the first time in a while at the bookstore while getting a present from Robin.

𝓐/𝓝: I wrote this in an hour. Be nice. Also I'm back to writing again so woo fucking hoo. This is set up to be a series btw. And Barbie isn't reader's name but I really hate typing {Y/N} personally. It feels unnatural to me. Anyway. Enjoy <3

Ah yes, Steve Harrington. He goes by many names. "Steve". "Steven". "The Hair". "King Steve". And, sometimes, simply "Harrington" by teammates and coaches... and rivals. Most notably Billy Hargrove.

But this story isn't about those two.

It's about you. And Steve.

You've gone by a few names yourself in your high school years and post-high school it's like no one bothered to learn your name.

"Queen Barbie" is what they called you. "Queen Barbie" was known as a sweet girl by most people and regarded as a bitch to others. But nothing played into your "Barbie" persona as much as your love for the color pink and the smile that constantly adorned your face.

Always smiling even while you worked. It was a job you loved in all fairness. A bookstore. Quiet. Not a lot of people passing through. And you loved it.

The bookstore was a nice change of pace from high school. It was small and family owned. Not by your family of course, you and your family had... issues to say the least. But that's a story for another time.

In school you wore hot pinks and baby pinks paired with white or gold. Working you went for more muted pinks. But pink is pink and nothing has made you less "Queen Barbie".

And nothing made Steve less "King Steve".

Especially when he came in to buy Robin a book for her birthday. If anything that made him better in your eyes. Steve was always kind to you but you never were into him like everyone expected you to be. He was sweet to you but you knew he was kind of an asshole to others.

He came up to the counter with a copy of Patience and Sarah. You saw the book before him and got excited about it.

"Oh this is a wonderful book. Good choice." You said happily as you took it. You turned the book on its back and put the price in the register as you spoke. "It's about a woman and her lover, who's another woman. One of the main characters is pretty masculine and she eventually 'transitions' to a man kinda. Then she goes by- You know what? I'm sorry. I'm rattling on. Uh... it's five nineteen."

Steve just smiled and nodded at you as he got out his wallet. "I didn't know you read that much Barbie."

Your head snapped up to see Steve, in all his glory. His hair was shorter than you remembered, maybe a bit flatter. He was definitely more muscular but you didn't really know what he's been doing to be so much stronger looking.

You hadn't realized how he had freckles in school. They looked good. And he had the prettiest eyes. And he also-

"Uh... receipt?" Your mouth stopped your thoughts. Auto pilot can really be a bitch sometimes.

Steve seemed to be in the same boat. He looked startled when you asked. "Oh, uh, yes please. It's a gift for a friend."

You smiled and handed him the receipt. "I think we have gift wrap in the back. I can wrap it for you!" You offered, totally not still thinking about his eyes and freckles.

Steve's eyes widened as he nodded. "Please. Their birthday is tomorrow."

"King Steve doing something last minute? I'm surprised!" You teased. "I'll go wrap it."

You took the book and went into the back room to wrap it. It wasn't official wrapping paper. It was just brown paper with book covers printed on it. You put a "To/from" sticker on it and came out with a sharpie.

Steve was standing awkwardly by the counter and his face lit up when he saw you with the now wrapped book. He went to grab it from you and you pulled the book back.

"I remember your handwriting." Was all you said to him. You set the book on the counter and took the lid from the sharpie. "Who's it for?"

"Robin Bobbin Buckley."

You blinked at him in confusion. "Is that their name or...?"

"It's more of an in joke."

"Cute."

You could have sworn Steve's cheeks turned pink slightly but you had no idea. You knew he didn't really blush so it was hard to decipher if it was blush or the summer heat was seeping into the store.

Steve rocked back and forth for a few moments as you wrote down what he told you. You had barely finished when he blurted out: "Barbie let's go on a date."

"What?"

Steve stumbled for a second before finally getting out a coherent phrase. "Date. Me. Please?"

You smiled and handed him the book. "How about in two days yeah? Your friends birthday is tomorrow."

Steve smiled and took the book from you. "I can do that. That works. Movies?"

"Just like school."

"Exactly Barbie." He chuckled. "I know how much you love drive-ins and milkshakes."

"It's fun!"

"I agree! That's why Saturday at 8 is going to be the perfect time."

"I can't wait Steve."

Steve left the store as casually as he could before absolutely freaking out in his car. He couldn't believe he got you. And he was gonna do his damnedest to keep you.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #228

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

I awoke with a start from yet another of those dreams. Those dreams, unyielding, in which he is with me. I have always hated those dreams.

Whether I find myself in a diner, or a grocery store, or strolling about my home town, he is always there, whether overtly or lingering in the shadows, hiding beneath the mask of someone else. He relishes being an unwelcome guest in my subconscious, drawing me to his flying monkeys and wannabes.

Long since incapable of finding pure love, I lay alone in my bed, groggy, having slept the night before to the sounds of YouTube on autoplay. Perhaps the only white noise worse than silence. My eyelids are heavy with the burden of lost rest, never to be clawed back from the unmerciful crawl of time.

I force myself out of bed and peek through the curtains. Orange-tinted storm clouds fill the sky. It must be Halloween. I yawn and head for the kitchen to boil a kettle.

I pour my cup of tea when suddenly the doorbell rings. What time is it? I ask myself, to which I reply, time to get a watch. The microwave clock reads half-past four PM. I suppose I slept in.

I look through the peephole and don’t see anyone. I figure it might be neighborhood children playing a prank, but it could be a package I ordered and forgot about. I unlock the door and open it, but it takes a moment to register what I see: my father, in the flesh.

I rub my eyes. This can’t be happening, this can’t be real - but when I open them again he still stands before me. He’s not supposed to be here, not even in my dreams. I pinch my arm, I bite my tongue, but nothing seems to wake me up. I am already awake.

“Trick or treat!” He says, holding out his arms, waiting for a hug.

“How did you find this address?”

“It’s almost my birthday! Didn’t you want to see me?”

“No. You aren’t welcome here. Please leave.”

I close the door but he sticks his foot in it, the sole of his open-toed shoe only barely damping the hit. He doesn’t flinch.

He pushes the door back open and leans inside. “Do you know what it took to get here? I’m not going back.”

Part of me is afraid of what he’ll do if I let him in, but the other part is afraid of what he’ll do if I try to keep him out. That’s the part that wins the argument. I open the door again.

“I’ll make dinner.” He says, as he looks around inside, scoping out a place to turn into a nest. He sets his backpack down on the couch, and I can smell sulfur on it from all the way over here by the entrance.

“I just woke up, actually, so dinner seems premature.”

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll make pancakes for dinner. You’ll love them, I promise.”

This is an uncharacteristic sort of compromise from him, and I get to wondering if this really is my father. After all, I haven’t seen him in five years, and he seems to look exactly as I remember him. The thing is, I’m not sure I remember what he looked like last time I was in the same room with him. He almost looks more like he does in that photo I keep stashed away at the bottom of a drawer, the one we took when I was ten. He doesn’t act much like I thought he did, either, but I suppose I haven’t known him for some time. Maybe he changed?

We stopped talking for the obvious reasons (those are the ones I can tell people who ask): he didn’t support me going to college, or my transition, or any of my passions beyond making him happy. But there were also the less obvious reasons: The chill I felt down my spine when we were alone, a sense of unease to hear his voice, fear when he was even slightly angry. The little reminders of childhood that I’ve learned draw me to other people who end up hurting me. Battle-worn red flags of heritage.

My teenage memories are molded swiss cheese, incomplete and green with envy of the children who were allowed to grow up without a father like him. Whether their father was a good man or a dead man or both, they were better off. I knew even then that the most I had to look forward to was writing and delivering the eulogy.

And now here he was, a trespasser in my home, standing at the stove, burning vegetable oil onto my carbon steel pan. The fishy stench of it chokes my uvula. I want to vomit. He always told me he’d haunt me after he died and here he was, haunting me not only in my dreams but in waking life as a shambling zombie of a parent that never was.

Was… was he?

I ran to my computer and checked the local obituaries of my home town. I scrambled to find anything, anything from the past year, then the past two, desperately searching my brain at the same time to try to recall when it was that via text he threatened (no - ‘promised’) to keep his death a secret from my mother and I. Then I came across the name. There it was, the obituary.

He was presumed dead on his birthday four years ago. The body was never found. There was no service. Nobody would have come anyway. And something - be it a mischievous fae or a demon or the man himself - was piloting his decaying body to make a pancake dinner.

He pushed open the bedroom door and presented the plate. “I hope you like them. I made them with love.”

“I’m not hungry,” I replied, sick to my stomach at the mere suggestion of more of what he called love.

He looked at my monitor and the smile melted off his face. “I keep my promises.”

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! Happy Halloween!

[themadmorrigan]

I’m late haha I hope you’re still up for doing this!

13, what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

14, how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

18, Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

39, Share a snippet from a WIP

I'm ALWAYS up for asks!

13. Hmmm. I don't know if it's a common writing tip, per se, but I write to write a little bit every day. Even if it's 2-3 sentences, just so I don't get out of the habit and stop making it a priority (easy, when you have a career and a family and other hobbies on the side). I'm also trying to embrace "finished is better than perfect" but, as a perfectionist, that's been a rough transition.

14. Oh, I'm a hot mess when I write emotional scenes. I cry along with them, and it makes them take forever because when there's strong emotion, my ADHD comes in and tries to shut it all down. Good times, man. Now, I try when possible to draw off of my own experience when writing especially emotional scenes, but sometimes, that's not possible (e.g., I've never died or lost my humanity; thus, I can't fully related to Elain's trauma in a 1:1 way). In those cases, I try to put myself in their shoes and draw from how I would likely react to a similar situation, or something with similar themes (e.g., I've lost myself before - how did it feel to come back from that?).

18. It really depends on the fic! Of Swords and Sorrows didn't get a name until partway through the first chapter, and it came from a line Lucien says in the second chapter. Sic Semper Tyrannis, though, had a name just after I thought of the story at large. (Fun fact, I told a friend about it and they said "heh, sic semper tyrannis" in response - thus, boom. A title.) For City of Gold (which I really, really need to put onto AO3), I knew the title before I ever started the fic - because it was based off of an NPC's journeys to Maztica, and I'd just watched The Fountain, lol.) But yeah - I try to draw on general themes of a fic when I'm naming them, or song lyrics/titles/concepts that feel appropriate or hearken to a place or concept within the story. tl;dr: I come up with titles haphazardly.

39. Hmmmm. OK, it's rough still, but from Chapter 2 of Sic Semper Tyrannis:

She manages to regain control of herself quickly, though. “If we’re glamoured, then we’ll need a password,” she adds. “Or some phrase to use when one of us needs to get a hold of the other. Something like… ‘peas’.”

“Peas?” he snorts. “Who are you, Nyx? Very surreptitious…” His face grows thoughtful then, and she watches as an idea forms and he slowly worries his lower lip with his teeth. “I… actually have a more discreet idea, but I don’t know whether you’d be up for it.”

She merely raises her eyebrows at him as if to say, go on. “Tug on the bond.”

Elain’s reaction is immediate. “No.”

“But it-”

“I said, no.”

There’s a long pause. “You know, you can’t run away from it forever, Elain.”  

Correction, she wants to say. Being immortal, I both can and will. And just as it seems they’ve made headway, they come full circle. 

“We’re not here to discuss it anyway. Stick to business.”

Lucien runs a hand across his face. “No, not until I say this: I’ve been giving you privacy but if it’s the Shadowsinger, just -”

“It’s not - it has nothing to do about him. There is nothing going on between me and-” She falters for a moment and her cheeks pinken. “It doesn’t matter. He has nothing to do with this.”

“Fine - just answer me this, ok? Is it me?”

“We’re about to spend three days together confined to a yacht and this is the discussion you want to have?”

A faint whir sounds from his golden eye while the russet one bores into her. “I think I deserve to know whether I’m to blame for the hell I’ve been dealing with for the last five years, yes.”

Ouch. Elain winced. “Yes-”  His face crumples in real-time. “-and no,” she added. He pauses, mid-breakdown, and returns his gaze to her.

Thanks, @olenvasynyt!

Ask Game!

[luluwritesthings]

so the last time i was active here i was in a complete different career than what i work now; i’ve been working in mobile dog grooming for the past 5-ish years and will actually be transitioning out of it because of an impending move. in that time i’ve accumulated a lot of regular clients and stories, but there’s one in particular i want to tell.

so i got this one client in the most bizarre way possible

i drive up to the house the GPS brought me to. i go to the door to talk to the owner and get the dogs, two large doodles. i’m kind of dreading it (doodle mixes are the bane of the dog groom world) but the client had to reschedule the previous appointment that was with somebody else so whatever. the guy hands the dogs over, i get into the truck with them, and start to settle in for a really long few hours. i open my phone to pull up something to listen to, and see there’s a text from the client so i go to open it.

it’s them making sure that i knew to come to their new address they just moved to, which didn’t match where i was. after a few frantic minutes of confusion with the secretary of the mobile business, it’s confirmed that i’m at the wrong house, with the wrong dogs.

i hurry the dogs out of the truck back to their owner, put in the new address, and book it to where i’m supposed to be. i remember stressing over how much the whole thing would throw off my day, and being mad at myself for not looking closer at the appointment information, but also being baffled, bcs did i really just have somebody hand over their dogs to a complete stranger they weren’t even expecting that just showed up at their house???

as i was giving the dogs back i had asked if he was expecting any mobile services that day, maybe if he was expecting somebody else from the business i work with (there’s about 8 of us so it’s not a stretch), but he had essentially just shrugged and went “idk i figured my wife had scheduled something, we had been talking about needing to get grooming services”

i’ve had about two other instances of appearing at the wrong house for an appointment, and both times the person answering immediately said they weren’t expecting me, so this guy REALLY confused me. i eventually share this story with my family and coworkers and they’re just as confused as me too.

i think about a week later i learned from my boss that these Doodle owners had called and ended up scheduling with me, which i was sooooooo excited about /s

so over the course of a year (yes i double checked, it has been EXACTLY a year of having them as a regular client) i start to get an understanding of these owners. i don’t see a whole lot of the wife and more so the husband, and each time i talk with him there’s always this air of him just, coasting? like he exists and he’s just following along. but he’s pleasant enough, one time he even powerwashed the truck bcs he noticed how dirty it was with tree sap, and the couple are understanding of the time it takes to do two large Doodles, or if i end up having to shave them down bcs they weren’t being maintained enough between appointments. i don’t really do a lot of haircuts or work with Doodles super often so these dogs on a good day take me around three hours each. i typically have to plan to bring a lunch to eat, and if they’re on my schedule for the week they take up a whole work day. every once in a while there may be one stop before i get to them, but normally they’re my one and only stop.

i also take note of the area they live in. it’s nice, clean, definitely has to be expensive to live in, there’s big plots of land for a suburban-esque area. it’s barely five minutes away from a highway, and the stores and gas stations by it have that ‘fancy’ look to them, like everything looks like a house until you see a logo on the side of it. i drive through the area quite a bit for other clients, and over the past year i began to have multiple sightings of That Truck, all explicitly different from each other, so it’s clearly not the same owner of it driving around all over the place, but individual owners that made the choice to purchase this Bad Idea of a Truck.

as a queer, autistic, and afab person in a red state, i’ve come to accept that there’s a lot of people who are MAGA, even if they don’t openly show it, and many who’s dogs i take care of. i wish i could say that i do things to stand up to them, or that i revel in them not knowing they’re paying a person like me a lot of money to bathe their dogs, but truthfully i just. don’t want to comprehend it. all i can do is focus on the dogs, make sure they’re clean and comfortable, and tell them i hate that they belong to these people.

as the election grew closer i watched as more and more of his signs appeared all over the place, and had already rolled up to other regular clients addresses with their own flags and banners now up (i’m STILL regularly driving by two houses with their giant signs up on the way to work. i am seriously debating doing something to them on my last day of work.) and it’s hard not to feel out-numbered.

i worked on the day of the election, which so happened to be the couple with the Doodles, and you have one guess what sign i saw stuck in next to their mailbox.

i cried pretty much the whole time i did the Doodles that day. a part of me i’m sure always knew, all the signs were there as i’ve told, but i think i had been clinging onto a sort of Schrödinger’s Cat situation with them and other clients. it was the best form of mental self-defense i had against the cruelty showing itself in this country.

i had to call out of work the next day after waking up early and seeing the results. i was genuinely so sick to my stomach and knew i wouldn’t be able to focus at all, and with living creatures being on the receiving end of my job, i was not going to risk anything happening to them.

the next time i saw the Doodles the sign was still up and they were just starting to decorate for Christmas. it was gone by the time i left that day, but i’m always going to remember where it was.

i was there again just yesterday, and they now have a third Doodle mix.

the first thought i had was that i hopefully won’t have to juggle doing three dogs before i move away. the second was that i hope the dog will be okay with the impending shit storm the economy is going to become. the expenses of taking care of a doodle mix, let alone the price to buy one, is incredibly expensive. the third was disbelief at being proven again how god damn fucking CLUELESS all of these people are.

i’m not sure if there is a lesson to be taken from this. all i have the capacity for is to worry for those dogs.

[cinderswife]

because i love nothing more than worldbuilding and inventing contexts for Why Characters Are Like That, i've designed cinders' immediate family! the last royal family of perrault was an absolute nightmare politically and socially. it might've been sorted out okay if they weren't being invaded at the same time, but things didn't work out that way.

infodump under the cut <3

cinders' father, king alixander grimsnarl, was the only son of a dwindling dynasty. he was not a very good king; he had the backbone of a sea sponge like his forebears and was a bit too proud of his crown. he'd bend to whoever bribed him the best and let corruption fester among the court (a problem that had been in the family for generations; perrault was the weakest of the five trader planets).

he went through many wives trying to produce an heir, unwilling to acknowledge that the fault was his own or even consider infertility treatments. he wanted his family to live on beyond him; there were many who wanted the throne and he could not allow them to have it.

enter eleanor blazekiss. as the youngest granddaughter of one of the most notable crimelords in perrault, she was ambitious, tired of being overlooked for her siblings and cousins, and knew the grey market witches of the lands quite well. so, at 20 years old she marches up to the 58 year old king and goes "marry me and i can solve your heir problem." alixander, intrigued by this bold and beautiful young woman and desperate for a solution, agreed. they were wed and within months she was pregnant with his heir.

however, the tale isn't as clear cut as one might think. eleanor stole away for the night with a sample of his sperm and his spit and made a deal with a witch to produce a gmo baby. because alixander was fully infertile and trying to make gametes from other dna sources was a nightmare, it was determined that it would be much faster just to clone eleanor and make a few changes to match his dna instead.

basically, cinders is a clone of her mother aside from the color of her eyes, the fact that she was amab, the ability to sprout golden antlers (cinders will discover this much later in her life), and a handful of other purely internal changes.

alixander was overjoyed by his "son" of course and doted on cinders. unfortunately, as old men are wont to do his health got steadily worse. eleanor tried very hard to care for her child, of course, except that she was young and distractible and found she cared far more for the whims and gossip of high society than for the duties of queen and mother. cinders was raised by her nanny and the royal advisors and was somewhat involved with the government since age 5.

also, she fully reneged on her deal with the witch. she thought she'd gotten away with it too! things were going well for her. alixander was retiring and she was going to be given the keys to the kingdom until her "son" was of age to take the throne. however, the day before her coronation she died unexpectedly and tragically.

the public, already on edge due to everything from the king's health to the threat of impending war with king cole, couldn't take this tragedy. what were the advisors supposed to do? well. they have a child who looks exactly like "his" mother and has a decent grasp on politic. also, this 12 year old has been raring for the chance to transition into a woman almost her entire life.

so, they put a child on the throne and lied to the king and the public about everything. queen eleanor the second, later known as cinders, was a decent queen. she had a much stronger backbone, was fully capable of living a double life as prince and queen, and cared deeply about her people. she was also a child, so there were many things she didn't understand and couldn't quite grasp.

well, alixander began to get suspicious. his son was growing into his wife who might or might not be dead, someone was on the throne who wasn't him and he didn't know who, and his former advisors were cagey as fuck. he also didn't get out much.

however, there was someone who could help. (at the time) lady marguerite tremain-moontear was from a lesser noble house that had fallen into ruin. she had two daughters, a husband who'd run off with a younger woman, and a thirst to build a better life for herself and her children.

she met with alixander in secret at first. she was clever and ambitious and found out a key piece of information: queen eleanor the first was dead, and had been for several years. who was on the throne? the gods only knew, she kept her face covered at all times though she was popular among the people.

they decided to marry. not out of love, but because it would be an easy way for them to be in close contact and her daughters would get royal treatment. if she played her cards right, she could even get one of them on the throne.

the only trouble with that was the "prince." see, cinders was Not happy with the new stepmother or her bratty children. they made her home life miserable by making her do all sorts of demeaning tasks and getting on her ass when she didn't complete them herself in a reasonable amount of time when a) they had staff to do that and b) cinders was 15 and rapidly learning what it meant to lead a war.

basically, everything went to hell in a handbasket for cinders when she was 15 because cole's forces had determined that perrault was the weak link in the 5 trader planets and were going really hard on the invasion. at home she was withdrawn and irritable, tired of having to pretend to be a prince forced to entertain the whims of a terrible stepfamily while grappling with decisions that she made where her people were destroyed either way. as queen she became waspish and difficult to work with even when her people's very lives were at stake.

this would last for four years until the truth of her and her advisors' deception became known to king and court. alixander took the throne again, but the court became split between him and the now fully out princess.

they did not survive six months. lady tremain-moontear took advantage of the chaos to betray them to king cole and 19 year old private rose grimm accidentally discovered some secret tunnels into the capitol, the combination of which allowed king cole to win perrault, kill the king, throw cinders into jail, burn down the planet, and make the house of tremain-moontear into the newest noble family of his empire.

at present, the now countess marguerite is working very hard to try to rebuild the ashes of her kingdom. she has the power she wanted, but at what cost? she's been forced to work with the grand duchy of delinore and the aid offered her by grand duchess snow grimm to rebuild. she hates this.

her older daughter belin has stayed loyal by her side, though their relationship is contentious. belin believes she could do a far better job than her mother but is terrified to disobey her. after all, her younger sister yulie has disappeared and now all the weight is on her shoulders.

yulie is... actually doing pretty okay. she, along with abigail stardust (the last living knight of cinders' reign), have taken advantage of snow's refugee programs and are currently living out a quiet if rather broke life on the planet of delinore in a mediocre one bedroom apartment. she's been doing temp admin work and abigail has been doing whatever manual labor she can get her hands on. that being said, yulie has just gotten a job offer as snow's second assistant... things might be looking up for her after all.

[theuniversitychallengereview]

No Use Crying Over Smashed Mugs

Leaning too far to the left while sitting on my sofa, I nudged my prized blue coffee mug over the edge. If someone had been filming, it would probably have looked like those videos of cats slowly knocking items off of tables, except I did it completely by accident rather than by mischievous design.

A loud smashing sound was the only indication that something had gone wrong. That’s quite a big indication, to be honest, and when I peered over the side I knew what to expect. The mug had landed on the metal base of a standing lamp and been shattered into approximately 15 pieces. This is functionally no different than it being shattered into 1000 pieces, but I was denied the poetic image of such a platonically ideal destruction.

For a moment I decried the loss of the mug, and indeed I recall being far more upset for far longer for the loss of mugs in the past. But this mug was gone. There was nought to be done, and I had, only the day before, come into possession of a new mug. One in, one out, it seems. Such is the way of things.

I bought this mug from Ikea, and it cost me about £2, but it had served me well, and I would honour its memory with a 250 word eulogy.

You Wait Ages For A Bus

Something else which cost £2 and which does deserve a longer period of anger is the £2 price cap on bus tickets, which Labour have announced will be defunct from the start of 2025.

Aside from the fact it will increase the commuting cost of a bus rider by close to £500/year, it will discourage people from using the bus system and drive people into the arms of their cars. At a time when we should be moving towards a world of universal mass transit, this is a deeply regressive move in many ways, and it makes you wonder what the point of this Labour government is.

It is also starkly irritating how governments of all stripes are unable (or unwilling) to see things in any context at all. The bus subsidy will also likely reduce car accidents (fewer cars on the road) and increase economic activity in city centres among a bunch of other potential benefits. So looking at the raw cost of the subsidy doesn’t take the full picture into account, not even slightly.

But its no use crying — it only cost £2 didn’t it?

Special Episode, 1999 - Tabloids vs Broadsheets

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Edinburgh vs Leeds

I have used the bus in both of the cities represented by the teams who faced off in this week’s University Challenge, Edinburgh and Leeds.

Leeds is a historically underrepresented insitution on University Challenge. It has a student body of nearly 40,000 yet has only been on the show 5 times since 1995, with its last appearance coming in 2011.

Here’s your first starter for ten.

Edinburgh skipper Myles takes the opening points with mist, and they take a full set of bonuses on films with scores by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood. He (that’s Myles, not Jonny Greenwood) takes the second starter too, but they only managed a single bonus on the 1924 general election, which was 100 years ago.

I’m now imagining an episode of University Challenge in 2124 in which the contestants are asked about this year’s election. Will someone born in the early 2100s know who Rishi Sunak was? Will they remember that Keir Starmer got rid of £2 bus tickets?

Aiton drops five points with an incorrect interruption before Myles makes it a hat-trick with nit, not, nut on the follow-up.

Edinburgh lead 55 points going into the picture round, which is on gears and it goes to Leeds’ Patel for their first points of the night. One of the bonuses asks for a gearing system named after an invertebrate.

Dadaism gives Aiton redemption and earns Edinburgh a bonus set on the League of Extraordinary Gentleman.

A guess of Dutch by Thomson gets Leeds going again, but they cannot build any momentum and general relativity hands Edinburgh the reins once more. Myles nominates Self to give Zinedine Zidane as an answer to one of the bonuses, which is a wise nomination. If one is not aware of the name Zinedine Zidane then one probably shouldn’t risk trying to pronounce it.

Mellor smashes the music starter with the Eurovision winner Loreen and Edinburgh manage two of the bonuses, giving them a lead of 95 points at the halfway stage.

Is The Comeback On?

Tan starts a Leeds comeback with James II, and they maintain their impetus with strange courtesy of Thomson. Prince Edward Island gives them a third consecutive starter, and they’ve halved their deficit.

Self takes the second picture starter for Edinburgh, but Banerjee Marvin is quickly back on it with the Bloomsbury Group on the next question. Could Leeds complete this unlikely comeback?

Cardinals for Patel closes the gap to 25, and Swansea for Thompson makes it 15. Their work on the bonuses isn’t good enough though, and Edinburgh stay ahead.

Mellor and Myles grab a couple of starters for Edinburgh, but they too struggle on the bonuses. A neg from Myles then opens the door for Leeds, but they can’t go through it and end the game 50-points adrift, tied on points with two other high-scoring losers.

No, it isn’t on.

Leeds 125–175 Edinburgh

The Scottish quartet slacked off a bit towards the end, but did enough to get over the line. Rajan tells Leeds that they have a chance of going through, but I don’t think they do.

The other sides who scored 125 points lost to teams scoring 240 and 275, so surely a 175–125 loss won’t be enough, regardless of what happens in the final two first-round matches.

Thanks for reading, and subscribe if you aren’t already to help me defeat the algorithm and stop me crying about the price of bus tickets and/or coffee mugs.

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