#KAYSANOVA

[luminarai]

A remix gift for the marvellous @werebearbearbar who hit me right in the soul with this passage from let me come along:

Beyond the house, the landscape ambles over fields and small hills until it meets the sea. They're not close enough to hear the surf, but the air has a salt tang, and the mid-afternoon light paints a warm, caramel stripe across the wood floor. Real wood, Joe notes.

Turning, Nicky stares at Joe, his eyes wide and yearning.

"We'll get two chairs," Joe says. "And we'll put them right by that window."

Someone loved this place; they can feel it in the bones of the house. They'll love it too, and love each other under its eaves. Maybe whoever lives here next will feel Joe and Nicky’s love in the doorposts and lintels.

[valhethella]

over and over and over and over and over and over

joe & nicky

print available here

[materassassino]

Thank you to @marsidotcom for bringing this t-shirt to my attention. I had to make this immediately.

Andy you old grump.

[zairaalbereo]

Come back to me!

I know, I know. This has been done. Many times. (Hell, I have done it.)

But there’s a reason why that moment in movie history meant so much to so many of us. And four years later, it still means so much to me.

Because The Old Guard didn’t just do the bare minimum and acknowledge that gay people exist, it gave us immortal warriors. It made Joe and Nicky that couple — soulmates with an epic backstory of falling in love with your enemy. It let them be deeply and passionately in love. On screen. In the most romantic and badass way possible.

And then it gave those roles to Luca and Marwan, who gave it their all and managed to bring that to life in so many small, yet impactful, ways. I will forever be grateful for that. Nothing comes close.

So happy birthday, TOG fandom! 💗

(And let’s hope next year we have one more movie to celebrate. 🙏)

[paigetics]

sometimes i think of yusuf, at the beginning. poet son of a merchant boy in borrowed armour, skull cracked open on a rock. how long until he returns home again? How does he return, estranged, to those Ithica-like Tunisian shores? Can his father still recognize his covered face?

yusuf al-kaysani, the son, the poet, the not-soldier, made and unmade each night in the looms of his mother's memory, mindbody woven and unwoven by something infinite and nameless.

sometimes i think about "di genova" vs. "al-kaysani". a land versus a bloodline. How they lose both, and then the names, too. immortal odysseus, ogygia-bound, longing to see the smoke that rises from his homeland, longing for death, kept in the soft-tender company of his murderer.

(really, you were founded on the bloody rock of holy ground. really, sometimes there is no return from war. at least not from this. not from the way he touches you.)

[gaysesamestreetreject]

the sketch I made for a lino cut I'm working on, I'm not sure about the colours yet though

also additionally, sth I played around with yesterday:

[sheafrotherdon]

Morning sun pours through the window of the attic bedroom, splashing onto the bed, spilling languidly across Joe’s bare belly. The sheets are tangled low at his hips and the pillow is askew. He has one arm thrown above his head and one stretched out into the spot that Nicky had occupied until a few minutes before, and his breathing is slow and even. Nicky stands in the doorway with a coffee cup in his hand and isn’t sure he can wake him, despite the hour and the travel ahead of them that day.  And then Joe opens one eye and peers at him, smiles beatifically and hums, pleased, at the back of his throat.

Nicky crosses the room and sets the coffee on the small, rickety table beside the bed. “Good morning,” he says, settling at Joe’s hip, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“Coffee,” Joe says appreciatively, and Nicky smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I thought you might enjoy a gentle awakening.”

Joe runs a gentle hand up the inside of Nicky’s nearest thigh, lets it rest where the hair on Nicky’s leg begins to thin. “I enjoy being woken by you,” he offers around a yawn. “Such beauty as the first thing I see.”

They have woven their lives together for hundreds of years, and Nicky has grown used to such affection. But occasionally, as now, he feels his heart skip and his cheeks heat beneath the easy grace of Joe’s words.

Joe’s smile grows impossibly wider. “Is that a blush?” he asks.

“Perhaps,” Nicky says evenly. “Perhaps I am still very in love with you.”

Joe reaches up to cup the side of Nicky’s face and gently thumbs his cheek. “Still,” he says with a wonder that makes Nicky’s heart skip again, makes him turn his head to press a kiss to Joe’s palm.

“Still,” Nicky agrees. “My lay-abed husband.”

Joe closes his eyes, cheeks round with delight. “I am, I am, I do lay abed.” He opens one eye again. “Perhaps you might lay abed with me.”

“There is so much to . . .” Nicky squawks as Joe pulls on his arm and rolls him back into bed. “Yusuf!”

“Oh, my full name,” says Joe, kissing Nicky’s shoulder. “I am in such trouble.”

Nicky laughs softly as Joe kisses a path to his jaw. “Only trouble of the heart, my love,” he whispers, as Joe curls against his side and lays his head upon Nicky’s chest.

[lautific]

[thesunwillart]

happy 3 years of the old guard!!! <3 still a movie that holds such a special place in my heart

[notablogtobefollowedunless]

[luminarai]

springtime in the country // I can smell summer on its breath // everything in my vision is movement and life // riverboat, wheelbarrow, wildflower and barley

just messing around with a simpler style and limited palette (stickers, prints, etc)

[sun-n-moon-showdown]

SUN AND MOON DUO SHOWDOWN - FINALS

[materassassino]

He wouldn't have missed

[zairaalbereo]

In Tarot the Ace of Swords stands for a break through, clarity and a new beginning, while the Ace of Cups stands for love, new relationships, compassion and creativity.

I thought these two cards could, in a lovely way, represented that moment in Joe and Nicky’s journey, where their lives shift direction, and something new and beautiful is born.

[non-un-topo]

hot guard summer

[headcanonthings]

Nicky, cooking: When I asked for a spoon, I meant the utensil. Joe, hugging him from behind: Oh.