#been too busy drawing gay cowboys

[aisforinterval]

if any of you people out there are considering the hit classic procedural cop drama from the UK "Life On Mars", i need to warn you that the song "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" will be completely ruined for you forever until you die

the association will be permanent, and you will hear the song and feel like you got punched in the stomach

[we-are-inevitable]

so i'll try to talk refined // javid (ch. 1)

A/N: this is so self indulgent holy fuck

WARNINGS: implied sexual content, drunken flirting, one night stands

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a one night stand. One night, one too many drinks, one stupid decision that wouldn't have an actual effect on anything David cared about, aside from giving him a much needed night off.

But, when his one night stand turns out to be a new every day part of his life for the foreseeable future, David has... some choices to make.

For starters: choose to ignore his obvious attraction to the muralist working in his library, or choose to face the challenge head on.

If only he knew how to navigate this plot twist.

Tag List: @tarantulas4davey @oof-musicals​ @panicky-pancakes (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Read On AO3!

David has never seen someone as gorgeous as the man sitting across from him at the bar.

Maybe that’s a somewhat straightforward statement. David has seen a lot of gorgeous people- he grew up in New York City, for crying out loud; he falls in love with someone new on the sidewalk every day, it seems. There’s just… something about this guy, though, that David is more than a little attracted to.

It’s probably his hair. David has always been a sucker for curls, and this guy’s hair is so curly on the ends- but he has a middle part, and his bangs-but-not-really-bangs are more wavy than curly, and it’s swooped back like some popular guy from the 90’s, or, like... Zayn Malik circa late 2014. Either way, David is loving it.

But that isn’t the only aspect of this guy that he’s loving.

For one, his eyes are the most striking golden brown that David has ever seen, and his tan skin is shining beautifully underneath the gaudy, in-your-face lights in the bar. If David stares hard enough, he can make out freckles dotting the expanse of his face, spread across a sharp jawline and even sharper cheekbones.

Needless to say, David is in love. Not literally, of course- David and ‘love’ don’t really mix well- but he’s never not going to be thinking about Random Guy in the Bar, so it’s kind of the same thing, right?

David almost considers going over to talk to him, but he falters. This is a... regular bar, probably, not one of the many gay bars David frequents, and he’s probably a straight guy with a low tolerance for getting hit on by dudes but, also, it’s 2021, and David is a little tipsy, so what’s really the harm in going over to talk to Random Guy? He might get punched, yeah, but David has taken worse. Much worse. There was that time in high school, when he kissed his boyfriend in the hall and was--

No, no, now is time to think happy thoughts, Tipsy David reminds himself.

Tipsy David is a lot braver than Sober David, and as he stands from his barstool and makes his way over to Random Guy, Tipsy David hopes that Sober David won’t have a black eye in the morning.

He takes in a deep breath as he approaches, but puts on a brave face as he comes up next to the guy. “Excuse me,” He starts, and pauses as the man whips around, eyes widening just slightly, and, oh, God, he’s even hotter up close. “I know this is a shot in the dark, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you how attractive you are,” David says, as nonchalantly as he’s able to, while he leans against the bar counter.

The man stays silent for a few moments, and David can practically see the gears turning in his mind- before he’s flashing a megawatt smile at David and saying, “Thanks, man. That means a lot.”

Oh, sweet Jesus, that accent is thick. It’s classic New York- like, classic classic. Old New York classic. Just this side of a stereotype, but oh so genuine, and David is living for it. His voice is really nice, too; not very deep, but gravelly and kind of rough and hoarse and oh, why was this guy blessed with perpetual perfect morning-voice? He sounds like he just woke up and rolled out of bed, so rough and gorgeous.

But that’s beside the point, because this guy is clearly not picking up what David is putting down. That’s alright. Maybe a bit disappointing, but it’s not like David had any high hopes anyway.

David gives a nod and a smirk, standing up straight. “Just telling the truth,” he replies easily, then slaps his hand gently on the bar. “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” The guy says, staring up at David. He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but instead he just offers a smile and a nod.

David nods back, turning to walk away, feeling pretty good about the interaction. He wasn’t punched, and wasn’t rejected, and--

“Hey, wait,” The man’s voice stops him in his tracks. David turns with a raised brow, taking in the man’s appearance once more- hair, eyes, freckles, skin, jeans and a plain henley with the sleeves rolled to his forearms- and, finally, the guy speaks again. “You… You ain’t too bad yourself, y’know.”

David blinks, confused, until he takes a slow step forward. “That so?” He asks with a hint of a grin.

The guy nods, then crosses his arms. “‘Course. I ain’t the only pretty boy here.”

“Ooh, pretty boy. That’s a new one,” David smirks, then leans against the bar. “So, pretty boy, answer me this. What would you say if I asked to sit with you?”

“Well, I’d probably ask what you’re drinkin’,” The man responds, then gestures for David to sit on the bar stool next to him. “What would your answer be, hypothetically?”

David’s smile widens, and he makes a show of thinking for a moment before speaking. “Well, if a hot guy asked me what I was drinking, I’d probably say a Manhattan with bourbon,” He teases, taking his seat. “And what would pretty boy be drinking, hm?”

“Pretty boy has a name,” He counters with a playful smirk, “and pretty boy is on his second margarita.”

Before David can respond, the man raises a hand and turns to the bartender. “‘Ey, Racer, c’mere,” he calls out, and soon, the bright-eyed blond is walking over, leaning over the bar. “Bring me two tequila shots, and a Manhattan. Bourbon.”

“On it, Cowboy,” The bartender- Antonio, or so it says on his nametag- responds with a wink.

“Cowboy,” David repeats as Antonio leaves, turning his attention to the man beside him. “Pretty boy, cowboy… You have some interesting nicknames.”

“Technically, ‘pretty boy’ ain’t a nickname. You’re the only one who calls me that, sweetheart,” The man smirks, resting his elbow against the bar.

“What else can I call you, then?” David asks, raising a brow as he leans in a bit closer- far enough away to not be in the guy’s personal space, but close enough to still hear him clearly over the booming party playlist blaring in the background.

The guy shrugs, grinning easily, then winks as he looks back at David. “You could start with ‘Jack’,” He replies.

Jack.

Such a generic name, but somehow, it’s just become the most attractive name in the history of ever.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack,” David says with a wide grin, holding out a hand. “The name’s David.”

Jack reaches out to take David’s hand and give it a shake, and, fuck, David swears he feels sparks. He doesn’t really have time to think about it, though, considering that Antonio is back with their drinks, and Jack is smiling at David like he’s the only thing that matters.

***

An hour passes, and David finds himself particularly buzzed after a few more drinks- courtesy of Jack, who has not once left his side. They’re both just this side of tipsy, both happy and bubbly underneath the flashing lights of the bar, and are already on their cooldown; nursing cold waters and a shared appetizer to come back to at least semi-sober before they have to part ways.

Maybe part ways.

Truth be told, David would follow Jack back to his apartment in a heartbeat if Jack asked him to.

Because, well, Jack is seriously attractive. Muscles for days, a laugh that’s to die for, and there’s an underlying softness to him; he’s an artist. An actual artist. He’s a freelancer; he has a dual degree in graphic design and studio art, so he paints and makes logos and designs business cards and does murals all over the city and, wow, David falls more and more in love every second. Jack even mentioned he was going to be doing some mural at one of the libraries in the city, which made David’s heart skip a beat. A literary themed mural, done by a hot guy… David might just have to leave his own little library and venture across the city to find it.

As the clock on the wall draws ever closer to 11 p.m., David bites his lip. He glances over at Jack, who is already looking at him, and when he sees the hungry look in Jack’s eyes, he smirks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Cause you’re hot,” Jack says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, “and I’m wonderin’ what it’d take to leave here with ya.”

David takes in a shuddering breath, licking his lips. “All you need to do is answer a question.”

“Oh?” Jack asks, placing a hand on David’s thigh. “And what would that question be?”

David looks him dead in the eyes. They’re both silent, energy sparking and crackling between each other; Jack’s eyes are dark, dark, dark, and David has to actively resist the urge to give in and kiss him right there against the counter. Slowly, David leans in close, lips barely brushing against Jack’s ear as he asks, “Your place or mine?”

Somehow, between one moment and the next, Jack is dragging David up the three steps into his townhouse, and as soon as the door is shut and locked with a distinct click, Jack has David pushed against the wall.

Distantly, David remembers leaving the bar- one owned by Jack’s friends, presumably, considering the fact that Antonio the Bartender and Mr. Redhead Bouncer Man both whistled when Jack escorted David out by the hand. He remembers walking down the block and turning left, and remembers the weight of Jack’s palm against his own; oddly intimate for the acts they’re about to commit, but welcome nonetheless.

But David doesn’t have time to think about that. Not as he places both hands on Jack’s cheeks and kisses him with all the passion he possesses.

Kissing Jack is exactly what David thought it would be: hot, hungry, competitive, fierce. Jack is strong, but within a few seconds, David has Jack backed against the front door, boxing the smaller man in with his arms.

“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasps as David kisses his neck, gently working the skin with just the barest bite of teeth.

David pulls back, glancing down into Jack’s dark eyes. “That’s the plan,” He says with a smirk, before diving back in to kiss Jack. It’s filthy, it’s fucking amazing, and Jack’s hands are in his hair and on his stomach and reaching around to grope his ass, pulling David ever closer.

“We need to- Bed,” Jack rasps out, but makes no move to leave the position; especially not when he leans up and begins his attack on the column of Davey’s throat. Thank God Sarah has extra makeup at David’s apartment; he’ll need it for work. Hannah might fire him on the spot if he walks into the library looking like a 'harlot'.

David taps Jack’s hip, and Jack seems to get the memo. Without breaking contact with David’s skin, Jack jumps and wraps his legs securely around David’s hips; David moans with the contact, bracing Jack with his hands as he blindly carries the man through the apartment. Had it been any other situation, David would have stopped to look around; he’s always been a sucker for interior design, and Jack has good taste.

But now, David only has one idea in mind.

Jack pulls away and gestures to a dark door, and as David opens it, he’s met with Jack’s bedroom, complete with red LED lights around the perimeter of the ceiling. How fitting, he thinks as he walks forward and all but throws Jack onto the bed. David kneels between Jack’s legs and undoes Jack’s belt with a skillful hand- he’s not at all new at this, he knows what he’s doing- and within seconds, David has Jack’s stupid, threadbare henley up and over his head, tossed precariously to a random corner of the bedroom.

Two things happen at once.

First, Jack sits up, looking more vulnerable than he’s looked during the entire night, and second, David notices the two faded surgical scars on either side of his chest, right beneath his pecs.

For a moment, everything is silent as David’s gaze flicks back to Jack’s face. He looks him again, scans his chest, and his toned stomach, and his hip bones that are jutting out under the waistband of his jeans. He's caught in his own head, stricken by how fucking hot Jack is shirtless, and he must be stuck for a few too many seconds, because--

Jack clears his throat, an awkward little sound, but one that catches David’s attention nonetheless. David looks back down and makes eye contact with Jack, who takes in a deep breath and asks, “This… Is this still alright?”

David raises a brow, and breathes, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Before Jack can respond, David pulls off his own shirt and tosses it to the side, then leans back down and kisses Jack. His hands fine Jack’s hips and he gives a harsh squeeze, which makes Jack gasp and hurry to undo the button and zipper of David’s jeans.

David doesn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, he pushes Jack down into the mattress, kissing his neck, then moving to his chest, his abs, trailing lower and lower with every movement, until Jack is panting, whining, begging, until Jack is raising his hips, until Jack is pushing his jeans down.

Until Jack is gasping for breath, thighs bracketing David’s head, moaning a mantra of, “God, yes, David, please, more, more, oh, fuck.”

***

“David! Nice to see ya, hun. Did you enjoy your weekend off?”

David looks over his shoulder as he shuts the front door. His boss, Hannah, is waving him up to the front; he walks to the counter and nods, smiling as he runs a hand through his hair. “I really needed it, yeah. Thank you, Han.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever need a break, you just let me know, okay?” She shoots him a pointed look, and smiles gently. “Go clock in, hun. We got a shipment in the back that needs to be sorted and shelved.”

“Yes, ma’am,” David responds with a grin. He drops off his leather messenger bag behind the front desk, then types his number into the keypad to clock in and log into his account. Once he’s done, David walks to the storage room in the back and stares at the piles of books in front of him.

With a smile, he grabs the first stack. Hannah called him a ‘strange boy’ once, for the very same reason. Apparently, her old employees here at Duane Street Library in downtown all hated sorting day with a passion, but David finds it relaxing. It puts him in a good mood.

Not that he needs this to be in a good mood after Friday night.

David’s hands flex around the spine of a book at the thought. God, he needs to get that out of his head. It’s been, what, two days since then, but he’s still thinking about... Jack. He needs to let go; it’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again, right? David has no plans to go back to that bar; it was nice, but he only went because there was an event he wasn’t really interested in at the bar he usually goes to- a gay bar, with frequent drag shows and performers who know David by name. A bar that has Britney and Gaga blaring at all times, not one with classic rock.

But, well, that bar seemed like the perfect place for Jack No-Last-Name, and Jack No-Last-Name seemed to frequent it, so it’s highly unlikely that David is ever going to run into Jack No-Last-Name again. It’s a big city, and he’s just a guy from a one night stand that David desperately needed in order to give himself a release.

Figuratively and literally, he thinks.

Eugh. Gross.

Pushing Jack out of his mind, David starts stacking the books onto the rolling cart they keep in the corner. He tries to at least keep them organized- first by genre, then alphabetical- and once he has about forty books on the cart, he pulls it out into the main part of the building. He starts shelving the mystery section first; it’s closest to the storage room, and it’s fairly easy to figure everything out. This mystery section is fun; all of the book spines are hidden, as the books are shelved backwards, and the only tell is the initial of the author's name laminated on the shelves.

There is a sign next to the shelf that says, of course, if you’re looking for a specific book and don’t want to search, come find an employee, blah, blah, but for the most part their guests like this little fun thing they do. It is the mystery section, after all; it’s why they hide the titles, it’s why there’s a basket of books wrapped at the end, it’s why the wrapped books only have the author’s initials and a small, vague summary written on the back.

All very Pinterest-y ideas, but fun nonetheless.

Once all of those books are meticulously shelved, David moves onto nonfiction, and then fiction, and by the time he’s finished with A through G, he’s due for another trip back into storage. H through L follows, then M through Q, then R through Z. When he’s done with the actual alphabetized sections, he gets to start on the fun little pop-up sections throughout the library.

BookTok section; the books that TikTok has been raving about, as an effort to foster more online engagement.

Read with Pride; pride month section. Books about being queer, books about queer experiences, books with queer characters- the works.

Black Authors, Black Voices; a section that has been on display for a while, since the head of the Black Lives Matter movement, about anti-racism and being a better ally to marginalized communities.

There are a few more sections like this that he does; editing them, switching out new books in place of books that have lost traction, creating little fliers and informational cards for the tables… It’s all very nice, very niche, and very much David’s little ‘baby’- his special project. It’s why Hannah hired him; beforehand, she had been trying her hardest to modernize this little library, but she hadn’t been able to hit the nail on the head. In comes David Jacobs, a 24 year old college graduate/grad student with social media management experience and generalized knowledge of what ‘the youths’ are liking, needing a job to help pay his way through grad school…

Needless to say, Hannah basically lets David roam free and do what he needs to do. Of course, she checks off on everything he does, but the new layout and new areas and new ideas are all him.

And it’s working.

The activities that he’s coming up with are getting a lot of participation. Since coming in last year, David has been able to boost community engagement- which, in turn, boosted their annual funding, and they’ve been investing that money into upgrades. Better computers for the Media Center, better toys and activities and little knickknacks for the 'Kid’s Korner' section, better decor to make the library look more lively.

Hannah even mentioned bringing someone in to paint the kid’s section, and maybe even do a nice, Instagram-worthy mural in the Media Center, and--

“Oh, wonderful, you’re here early!”

At the sound of Hannah’s voice up front, David raises a brow. He’s near the back of the library now, and only has about ten more books to shelve, so he doesn’t bother going up to the front. He has a job to do anyway, so it’ll be fine. Distantly, though, he hears Hannah and someone laughing together, which makes David grin; Hannah is always laughing, either with someone or at someone. She’s sassy and snarky and kind of a bitch, but God, does David love her. He couldn’t imagine a better boss.

He focuses on the task at hand, deciding to take his time with it, just to let Hannah talk to whoever it is she’s talking to. Eventually, though, David pushes the cart back to the storage room and makes his way up to the front.

David rounds the corner with a smile and some pep in his step, though he stops in his tracks when he sees--

“David, this fine young man is gonna be painting our mural in the kids section!” Hannah says with a wide grin, and turns away from him. “This is David; he runs our Community Outreach programs and social media accounts, plus helps me with, y’know, sorting through the books,” Hannah explains.

She then turns to David, gesturing to the man next to her. “David, meet Jack Kelly. He’ll be in and out for the next few weeks.”

David and Jack finally make eye contact, and David sees the wide-eyed realization on Jack’s face.

“Hi,” David breathes, his hands clenching at his side.

Jack blinks. Hesitates, then raises his hand to wave. “...Hey.”

Hannah grins, and giggles between them as her hands clasp in front of her chest. “Oh, isn’t this just going to be great?”

That’s one way to put it, David thinks to himself, and by the flushed look on Jack’s face, he’s probably thinking the same damn thing.

[thewritershelpers]

Any tips to write a wild west story? I'm working on a cowboy/western AU and I have no idea on where to start to make it historically accurate. Thanks in advance and keep on being awesome!

This turned into a fairly long reply, so to quickly summarize: ignore pretty much anything Hollywood has told you about the “Wild West,” except maybe the number of women (except we don’t really know if there were significantly fewer women or if they were just that underreported/underrepresented). 

Anyway!

I’m so glad you asked! Historical accuracy can get kind of tricky with any story you come up with, but especially the Wild West. There has been so much about the West that has been sensationalized thanks to media, that most people don’t actually have an accurate conception of what life looked like. Before getting into actual writing tips, here’s a basic rundown of US history that will help (and more facts/sources under the cut).

1600s Colonial/Pilgram peeps pop over to the continent, begin pushing the native and indigenous people out of their homes/lands, seeking religious/political freedom, yada yada

1776, Declaration of Independence, Revolutionary War, etc etc etc, continued bad treatment of the people who here first

1803, Louisiana Purchase happens, when the USA gov’t buys land that was France/Spain stuff (at this time, Mexico/New Spain is still including California, Texas, Utah, Florida and more) Lewis & Clark are “exploring” at this time too, and settlers are rushing to get away from what is slowly starting to become the “urbanized” East (remember, still pre-Civil War) [BIG FACT HERE: people settling in the west, built cities. Like legit urban cities, just not the metroplexes that Boston and Philadelphia and Washington D.C. had/were becoming)

1830, by now Florida has become part of the USA, *ndrew J*ckson is now president (and about to really be a bad man when it comes to the NATIVE and INDIGENOUS people)

Following that, you have the build-up to the Civil War, which not only includes the government forced removal of Native people but also includes the abolitionist movement in the northern USA. 

What we think of when we picture the “Wild West” is probably 99.999% Hollywood. The real Wild West was made up of a wide variety of ethnicities. There were the already-present Native Americans, the Mexicans who were there before the Americans. There were the pioneers who headed west for a variety of reasons (think gold-seekers, treasure hunters, anti-government settlers, Mormons, and so many more) as well as former slaves and other groups of people who were either forced from their homes or wanted a new life. Some of them were veterans from the Civil War, Union and Confederate soldiers alike, as well as “restless white men”. 

A source I really like for this time period says that “The untamed territories were noted for their lawlessness, which gave rise to wild, rowdy, unrestrained, disorderly, and unruly behavior—which is what made for such great stories in print and on-screen. But while much of the culture that is attributed to the Wild West was just normal colonial culture in many parts of America at different times, it became ingrained in people’s imaginations.” As in–the same culture that has become indicative of the Old West had been around for a while, just in different places at different times.

Now, when it comes to cowboys, think of it literally. Cowboy = cattle wrangler. Cowboys, as we know them, were actually first vaqueros, legend/tradition of cattle wranglers from Northern Mexico. 

Cowboy culture developed from the combination of the lawlessness of the West and the Victorian influence of English/Eastern European settlers who were skipping right over the OG 13 states to go where the land was “empty” and “free” (a decent amount of the media even then liked to ignore the existence and presence of our Native siblings, and trivialize them to savage and dangerous). This led to a different brand of chivalry, but not one completely dissimilar to what existed in prior times.

Some other important facts of the Old West/Cowboy culture: gay. While cowgirls did exist, and people did move west with their families, it was a predominantly male scene for a long time, and due to the relatively isolated lifestyle, gay men were present. That being said, the cowboy culture was still deeply homophobic (think of it this way: legally no gay, but cops weren’t really around so most people just minded their own business).

I’ve mentioned Native Americans a ton. Conflicts between any group of native people and Americans were almost always between the USA Army and whatever group they decided to fight with that month. That didn’t mean cowboys were buddy-buddy or even particularly friendly with them, but they weren’t actively hostile in the same organized & armed way.

I hope that all helps in terms of historical accuracy. Just to summarize important points: ignore what Hollywood has said it looked like. If you’re planning on drawing inspiration from a specific facet of this time period, or from a specific place (like the Alamo), just do some quick research to get a more stable foundation. There won’t necessarily be as much information as you might think, because 1) cowboys were low on the social ladder and thus not really documented, and because 2) so much of what you’ll find on the internet will be in contrast to or originate from, in some way, Hollywood.

Good luck and happy writing!

-S

[pop-punklouis]

top five HL fanfic!!!!

biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:

• Here in the Afterglow (89k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

• Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

• Wild and Unruly (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

• This Wicked Game (70k)

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

• Fixated On One Star (53k)

Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.

Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU

• Finding Lou (60k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

• California Sold

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

• Empty Skies (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

• And Then a Bit (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

• Dream Awake (31k)

The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.

On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.

• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)

Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)

strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

• In Vogue (121k)

Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)

• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)

The room falls silent as they stay wrapped up in each other. Harry can feel Louis’ soft breaths on his neck, and he almost thinks Louis’ fallen asleep until he says softly, “How did you know you were in love with me?”

Or, Harry and Louis look back on five years.

• A Runaway American Dream (15k)

AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.

• Things Have Gotten Closer to the Sun (49k)

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

• Here (in your arms) (60k)

the one where Louis is a successful real estate agent and Harry works at a retirement home. They’ve never had a real home. Up until now.

(Starring Liam Payne as a fitness trainer, Zayn as an artist, and Niall, who busks.)

• These Inconvenient Fireworks (190k)

Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.

• In Dreams (23k)

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

• My Heart is Breathing for this Moment in Time (160k)

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they’re put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn’t know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry’s always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

• Paint the Sky with Stars (63k)

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom. Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform. By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help. Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

• Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Xanadu

Another day, another 80s musical reviewed for Wes. This time it’s Xanadu, and I confess I am excited. I know less than nothing about this film, only that it’s 1) bad and 2) beloved by the gays. Sign me up, y’all. So did this inspire me to strap on some roller skates and Farrah Fawcett my hair to the beat of some groovin’ tunes? Well...

Not...exactly. It’s an entry in the list of films that I’m glad I’ve seen for their historical impact but probably never need to see again. Like Birth of a Nation but with less virulent racism. The basic plot is this: Sonny (Michael Beck) is an artist painting album covers when he meets a girl one day named Kira (Olivia Newton-John) who turns his world upside down. He also befriends, and eventually goes into business with, a man named Danny McGuire (Gene Kelly) and together they start a club called Xanadu. 

Some thoughts:

There’s an old man with a scarf sitting on a rocky beach playing his clarinet as the sun rises in the sky. What a way to greet the day. Holy shit that old man is Gene Kelly!! How did I not know he was in this? How is Xanadu’s legacy not “Yeah it’s this trippy rollerskating musical that GENE FREAKING KELLY was in”? So I guess the old clarinet man is actually important to the story, because I thought he was just like, a muse alerting us to the tale we were about to watch unfold. 

Ohhh Kenny Ortega is the choreographer, interesting. I’m so ready to see his early artistic vision and how it developed into the level of genius it was at for High School Musical. 

Ok, the first number is this kind of electric neon ballet set to ELO singing “I’m Alive” and it mostly consists of incredibly beautiful women with Farrah hair dancing and twirling in fantastic skirts while Olivia Newton-John is going :O the whole time. It’s no chandelier dropping from the ceiling, but it’s not a bad way to start a musical. 

Hm, well now the women are turning into lasers and running, kind of like The Flash. Maybe I spoke too soon.

These transitions between scenes are absolutely godawful Powerpoint transitions and I’m obsessed with them. It’s like eating a couple buffalo wings in between your entree and dessert. By itself, not bad, but why would you use that as a way to get from one experience to another?

I am really enjoying this kind of ghost number between Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John as he’s remembering his heyday. It’s sweet, and it’s not hard to see that Kelly is drawing on his own experiences and memories of his career in the 40s as he’s imagining this dance with his long lost love.

I don’t think anything is less romantic than roller skating in front of an industrial wind tunnel fan, however, so this part with ONJ and Michael Beck (who plays our main character, Sonny) is a big ol snoozefest. You’ll notice I have not mentioned Sonny yet and there’s a reason for that. He’s the movie’s equivalent of a black hole. I’m so uninterested when he’s on screen. He’s beige shag carpeting. He’s a baloney and mayo sandwich. He’s motel art. Every moment he’s onscreen and ONJ or Gene Kelly aren’t is a moment wasted.  

Every scene feels like a new vignette that is only loosely connected to the previous scenes. This showdown between the old jazz big band number and the 80s rock number feels like two extended music videos, one after the other or a dreadful mashup from Glee (and I don’t mean barely passable Glee, I mean the later seasons). 

Dammmmn have you ever had such a good kiss with someone that you turned animated? Me neither. I’m gonna work on that with Wife.

Oh and the animation sequence was produced by Don Bluth. Of course it fucking was. 

Sonny. My man. How can you love Kira when you don’t know anything about her at all? Have you guys even had one conversation? Or is it all rollerskating lasers and wind tunnel fans. I know you can’t hear a word she says over the sound of that fan, my dude.. 

Ah, so she’s one of the nine muses! This scene where she’s trying to convince Sonny is pretty funny actually. ONJ is hands down the most magnetic and interesting part of this movie.

Wait so...Sonny’s big plan is to run at a wall that’s got a painting on it, and he just assumes he can enter that painting like it’s a portal to another dimension? You’re just gonna Wile E. Coyote this motherfucker and hope for the best? This is probably the only interesting thing I can say about Sonny is that he’s dumb as a bag of hammers. 

Ugghhh this song about staying suspended in time is the “Cheer Up Charlie” of this movie, meaning it goes on way too long, grinds the action to a halt, and makes me irrationally furious just thinking about it.

But then here is Gene Kelly, roller skating through a parade of mimes juggling bowling pins, and it makes everything worth the price of admission again. 

“Xanadu” is the most confusing musical number I’ve ever seen. At one point everyone is tigers, then they’re cowboys. There’s a woman spinning in some kind of acrobatic harness by the back of her neck so she’s just spinning in tight circles. I think someone might have been on fire. I’m thinking John Mulaney watched this many times as inspiration for Stefon-endorsed clubs on SNL. 

Did I Cry? Not even close. 

This is a WEIRD one, which I knew going in, but you just don’t really know how weird until it’s happening to you. And this is definitely a movie that happens to you. Performances? Eh, ONJ and Gene Kelly are mainly skating by on pure charisma. But all the rollerskates and lasers in the world won’t make this script make a lick of sense. See it for the novelty, but it’s the movie equivalent of a Twinkie - confusing and not exactly filling, but enjoyable just the same. 

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[tinycaprisun]

a song about it raining somewhere else

title: a song about it raining somewhere else characters: chuck taylor x trent beretta word count: 3822 part: 1/1 warnings: mild cursing, and like that’s kinda it? maybe mild angst? but also i’m a baby and it becomes fluff by the end? a/n: howdy, this is not another i’m back i’m back piece as much as it honestly is. no, see this time- this is actually a gift! 2 days ago was @trentjinshi’s birthday and i wanted to write him something! so i sat down for like 6 hours with my goopy goblin gay brain and spit out this obvious magnum opus. so, like, don’t hate it please. also hugest happy birthday to emil again!! yeehaw... i’ve technically already sent this to u

You know, of all days to have the soul crushing realization that you’ve secretly been in love with your best friend, Trent should have expected it to happen on Valentine’s Day.

The man had garbage luck anyways, and good things seemingly never happened to him. So when Chuck animatedly told him he had a date that night with some girl, Trent’s heart shouldn’t have blown apart like he had been shot. Sure, he pretended to be supportive of his buddy, returning his radiant smile despite the effect never reaching his eyes, And yeah, he wished him all the best, telling the taller man he hoped it went well.

But did Trent mean any of that? Fuck no! He was dying on the inside, mourning the loss of a relationship and love he didn’t even know he wanted! Perhaps he should have considered himself lucky that he didn’t start bawling his eyes out on the spot. The New Yorker had a tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve, so the crying really was not out of the question at that moment. But he contained his feelings somehow, moving on through the rest of that afternoon like he was trudging through a snowstorm. Slow, cold, and slowly dying from the inside out.

So that led him here, sitting in his car as the rain started to come down, refusing to turn the damn thing on. He didn’t want to go back to his hotel room. Because if he did, it would remind him of the obvious. He went home alone tonight.

Chuck wasn’t alone. His friend had a probably beautiful person with a perfect personality sitting across from him at a fancy restaurant. A person who wasn’t him. Why couldn’t Trent be his perfect date? He would laugh at his jokes, softly hold his hand as they walked in from the parking lot, pull his chair out for him, admire him like he was the sun-

A harsh banging came from his left, rhythmically tapping against the glass of his car window in time with the rain drops. Trent’s head jerked up from where it had defeatedly slumped against the steering wheel to see who was trying to get his attention.

It was a security guard, holding an umbrella in one hand and wavering him off with another, politely telling him to leave the premises as the arena building they were at was closing. To be honest, getting a ticket from not leaving and instead rotting in that parking lot forever sounded like a far better time than he was having. But, he didn’t have a choice. Story of his life.

Trent started up his car, quickly leaving off into the vast night with only his thoughts to keep him company. And that was rapidly becoming annoying. The singular thing on his mind was one person, and how all this time, his feelings were so obvious. Every time he even glanced in his friend’s direction his heart rate would spike. Before now, he had chalked that up to coincidence or - considering it was Trent and how his body loved to torture him - underlying health conditions. Evidently, it was neither of those things.

One would think he would catch on to his festering crush sooner; considering he thought the entire world of Chuck and whenever he had to go more than a few days without seeing him, he would get a weird sense of longing to be back in his presence, but nothing ever wanted to work out that way. Life thought it would be much funnier if Trent felt like he was being ripped apart at the seams by a simple sentence.

Between the still processing of what it even meant to have a crush on your best friend, and knowing that right now he was out with some other person having the time of his life, Trent was not feeling great as he drove down the freeway. Grumbling under his breath, he flicked the radio on to fill the car with something other than his problems. A song the brunette had never heard before crackled to life, being about part of the way through.

By the time we get there, everybody will be drunk The chairs will be on tables and the band will be unplugged We're gonna look real good, but we're gonna look real rude I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm-

Fucking perfect! The last person to mess with the radio in Trent’s car was Chuck, and bastard left it on one of his stupid country stations. Trent didn’t even like country music! That didn’t stop him, however, from a few days ago when they were driving from city to city and let Chuck put on whatever he liked, even if it was something he was going to hate. He would make tiny sacrifices like that all the time for his partner, because he knew it would earn him one of those sunlit smiles. Trent really would do anything to make Chuck happy, and had been since they met.

Late to the party with you Oh, who needs confetti? We're already falling into the groove And who needs a crowd when you're happy at a party for two? The world can wait 'Cause I'm never late to the party if I'm late to the party with you

It... It was a love song?

“Throw me off a fucking bridge.” Trent mumbled to himself as he exited an off ramp. Seriously, who out there was tormenting him and making him have possibly the worst day ever? What omnipotent being did he piss off? He thought he was an alright dude, not getting into other people’s business and sort of keeping to himself. Most days he made an attempt to be somewhat nice to others and never did any of that vile or cruel shit. And yet, he was cursed to drive home while listening to a love song in a genre that he hated, and only helped to remind him more of his best friend.

Let's promise when we get in that we'll try to get right out Fake a couple conversations, make the necessary rounds These kinda things just turn into "Who's leaving here with who?" But I just want 'em all to see me come in late to the party with you

Wasn’t that a funny line. Wanting others to see the person you’re with because of how much you loved them? Trent understood that. Whenever he would go anywhere with Chuck, he would always want people to know he was there with him- whether he realized it or not.

He could talk for hours about him. It could be the simple telling of a funny story, or gushing about how good he was in the ring. Or how great of a friend he was. That made Trent wonder about what Chuck would be like if they were together. His mind wandered, dreaming up scenarios and infinite possibilities as he pulled into his hotel’s parking garage.

The musing didn’t stop when he killed the engine, happily ending that fucking song that was starting to piss him off with how cute it was. Trent pushed himself out of the car, gathering his singular bag from the trunk and wandering inside through the rain. Which, if anyone was curious, was even worse than it was when he left. It was coming down in buckets now, being slung into the New Yorker’s face by the wind.

Checking in was easy enough, having the briefest of conversations with the man at the desk who happened to have a thick southern accent.

Chuck had an accent, but only when he drank a lot. It took about 3 and a half beers for it to come out, but by that point he didn’t care all that much to hide it. He wouldn’t be trashed, as he was a pretty solid drinker and had made putting strong shit back a hobby over the last few years. Trent knew exactly how it sounded, though. A smooth Kentucky accent that always caused him to punctuate the last word of his sentences and pronounce certain things differently. Never anything like “y’all” or something southern like that, after all Chuck wasn’t that dime store cowboy they worked with.

The thing Trent remembered the most about Chuck’s accent was how he said his name. He would draw it out, almost like he was whining, except it was low in his voice and always accompanied by a wide grin. One that’s toothy like Cheshire Cat, and annoyingly sweet like bubblegum. Trent idly wondered if he tasted like bubblegum too, but the thought turned vivid fantasy was interrupted for a moment by the elevator reaching his floor.

The brunette slowly approached his room, still partially entranced by the ideas he had created in his mind as he unlocked his door and slipped in. From there, it felt like he wasn’t even alive anymore. Not in a morbid sense, but as in he wasn’t participating in the concept of reality at that moment. Trent was so disconnected from his actions, it was almost as though he was outside of his body and looking in from somewhere else. So much so, that when he snapped out of his revere from his phone buzzing, he was lying in bed wearing only his boxers.

Not that what was on his phone was of any importance to him. All Trent saw were notifications for things he didn’t care about, the only thing sticking out was a short text from Orange sending him more condolences over his current “issue”. Damn, he was acting like someone had died, not his friend’s heart being broken. Trent didn’t bother responding, tossing the device back on the bedside table and rolling over to face away from it.

The alarm clock on the other stand read “10:17 p.m.”, blinking at him like the piece of shit was broken. It also only now occurred to Trent that he had never turned the lights on while he was basically astral projecting. So he was bathed in darkness, with the only illumination being that digital clock and the street lights below outside the window.

Was he going to fall asleep at a respectable time? Because deep in his bones he could feel the shroud of tiredness creeping through him from all of the emotional energy he drained today. And with that, Trent grabbed one of the unused pillows and wrapped himself around it, cuddling it tightly and not bothering to get under the bed covers.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, Trent could pretend the pillow was something else. --

Who in the hell was knocking at his door at - the New Yorker stopped his angry brain tirade to peek at the clock again - 11:53 at night? He had only gotten to sleep an hour and it was cut short by who knew what. If this was Orange coming to tell him he had broken another hotel microwave by “forgetting to take the metal spoon out of his mac and cheese”, Trent was going to fucking kill him.

Getting up from where he lay, Trent stumbled blearily across the room to the door. In those few seconds, it processed with him that his hair must have come untied while he was sleeping because it was messily draped around his shoulders. Among that, he was still only dressed in boxers, riding rather low on his hips. Maybe he had a restless sleep even though it was quick?

He didn’t care what he looked like though as he slowly pulled the door open with a yawn and blinked from the harsh light flooding in from the hallway. Trent prepared to open his mouth and berate his shorter friend when he heard a sniffle come from in front of him.

Chuck was standing on the other side of the doorway, soaking wet from the rain. By the look on his face, it seemed as though he had been crying as well, with red eyes and a running nose. His eyes didn’t meet Trent’s as he all but whispered, “H-hey, man.”

Did the longer haired brunette care that his friend was ice cold and drenched from head to toe? No. That was why without words, he dragged his friend into the room and hugged him tightly, letting the hotel door slip closed on its own. Chuck didn’t need to be told twice to hug back, nearly crushing Trent from the strength of his shaking arms.

They stayed like that for a good while, with Trent rubbing soothing circles into his back and letting him rest his head on his shoulder when he began to weep again. That was before he slowly drew back, silently taking Chuck’s hand and guiding him to his bed so he could sit. Trent grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around his friend, figuring he could just use a blanket later when he needed to sleep.

“I... didn’t even tell you- what’s wrong..?” murmured the Kentuckian, slouching in on himself and bringing his knees up so they were closer to his chest. He must have been really cold. Trent paused for a moment, looking with a pained yet sympathetic smile.

“Don’t need to. You’re upset, and I gotta fix that.” He wasn’t sure who hurt him, or even what, but just let it be known he was going to destroy whatever it was.

“Well, uh, t-thank you?”

“Yeah, dude. I-” Love you. “Care about you. You’re my friend and shit. Hurts to see you cry.” With that, Trent carefully maneuvered around Chuck and hopped off the bed to go rifle through his clothes for something dry he could wear. And- probably some pants for himself. When he first opened the door, he couldn’t help but notice Chuck gave him the slightest look up and down, with his cheeks going red afterwards. Trent assumed it was only because he was cold, and the warmth from his bedroom had fucked with his internal body temperature.

While digging through his bags trying to find some of the clothes he always packed for his friend - and if it were any other day than today, Trent would have told you it was because he was just being a nice guy. He knew better than that now. - Chuck began to talk again. “Date ditched me...”

“They didn’t show up?”

Chuck sighed. “No, she did. But- when her ex came around... She would’a rather been with him.”

Trent grabbed the extra clothes and stood, turning around to face Chuck who was staring off into the corner. Considering how already destroyed his heart already was from earlier, he was a bit surprised it still had a few more pieces that could shatter at this sight. Coming back over, he set the pile to one side of him, then sat back down on the other. “Chuck...”

“I don’t know what I expected? Every girl, or hell- every guy, I’ve ever tried to date has never worked out for me. I don’t get it.” Oh, Trent should not have been so happy to hear those words. Well, he wasn’t happy to hear most of them, and was hurting for his friend, but two of them in particular stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Every guy. That meant Chuck had been on dates with men. That meant, even though it was fucked up to think about this at the moment, that Trent still had a chance.

“You just haven’t found the right one, man. None of those assholes from before deserve you anyways.” Chuck brought his gaze back over to Trent, eyes glassy and expression- disbelieving. His hair was matted to his head, still wet in some places, but mostly stuck in small spots to his forehead. Everything else about him was still about the same caliber as that, slowly drying and clinging to parts of his body that weren’t being disrupted by the comforter.

“Or maybe I didn’t deserve them...” Something- came over Trent then. There wasn’t a word for the mix of emotions he felt upon hearing that. But what he could feel were his hands taking either side of his best friend’s face and holding his head up to where he would look him in the eyes.

“That’s not true, you and I both know that. Anyone in the world would be lucky to have you.”

Chuck honest to god laughed at that and tilted his head. “Name one person.”

Fuck. For all intents and purposes, the answer he desperately wanted to give was ‘Me’, but that never came out of his mouth. Instead, it was like Trent was suspended in fear, unable to say what he wanted for the thought of being rejected. Or somehow even worse, him thinking it was a joke and getting upset with him. So, Trent said nothing, trying to think of a different response that would be true, but didn’t give himself away.

That was the nail in the coffin, though. Chuck took his silence as an answer, unable to provide a single person who could possibly want to be with him. The other man shook Trent’s hands away from his face, hurt welling up in his eyes with a grimace as he moved to grab the clothes that were gotten for him.

“See,” Chuck hobbled to a standing position, holding the clean garments close to his sodden chest like it was going to protect him from the pain he was feeling. Trent, just say something, anything, he yelled to himself whilst watching Chuck shuffle over to the bathroom and pull the door open. He flicked his eyes down to the floor for a moment before coming back up and locking onto Trent’s. “No one could ever love me...”

“Chuck-” Trent was too late, Chuck had already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. And God damn it, his stomach had sunk to the depth of his being, twisting and turning like he was going to be sick. He should have said something. Even if it meant ruining the only thing he really had left to care about. There was his job, his other friends, his family and that; and while they meant a lot to him as well, he truly believed in that moment, and probably for some while now, that Chuck was his world.

As goofy and kind of bullshit as it was to hear, that’s what he felt like. That this guy he’s known for a good chunk of his life was his sun, moon, and every star in the sky. And Trent knew he’s never felt that way about another person. He knew that no other person on this Earth - or fuck, any other planet - could beam at him when they pull an upset and win a match together like he could. No one else made his chest feel warm whenever they complimented him quite the same way that Chuck did. There wasn’t a soul who had the same giggle, the wit, the determination, the personality- fucking any of it. No one had quite what his best friend had, and that was why he loved him.

Trent had no idea how long Chuck was going to be in there, or if he was ever going to come out. Knowing him, he could stay in there all night, not wanting to face the world again- let alone his friend. Even still, he got up from where he was and placed himself a few paces away from his bathroom door. Within his head, he hyped himself up, vowing that no matter if he got scared or felt like everything was going to go wrong, the New Yorker was going to tell him the truth.

Approximately 4 minutes later - if you asked Trent it felt like 10 years - Chuck finally emerged from his hiding place, dressed in some of his friend’s clothes and with shockingly drier hair. Not sure why he was so surprised that he had run a towel through it or something, but that didn’t matter. The taller man seemed confused as to why Trent was standing at the door, but before he could ask what was happening, Trent said, “I do.”

Chuck squinted at him with a, “What?” but it came out choked off and shaky, like he wasn’t prepared to speak.

“You said no one could ever love you, and that’s not true. Because I love you,” He wanted to protest, but now that Trent was talking, he couldn’t stop. “And I didn’t realize it until today, but I seriously am so in love with you that I don’t think I could picture my life without you. You mean everything to me and I would do anything for you just to see your beautiful smile or hear you say my name. And I know it sounds like I’m lying and that I’m trying to make you feel better, but I’m not. If I think about it, I feel like I’ve loved you forever but never realized it, and I wish I could have known sooner. Because you need to know that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I would be the luckiest guy in the world to even have a chance with you-”

“Trent-”

“I love the way you purposefully send me a string of those stupid emojis over text because you know it annoys me. I love how you can make anyone feel better with just one smile and your passion for loving others. I love how much you love animals and how every dog you see, you consider kidnapping-'' Trent had become so caught up in his declaration that he hadn’t noticed his friend had moved from in front of him and Chuck’s lips were on his.

Before he could even do anything; not even get a gasp at the sudden action, Chuck was already pulling away, breathing as if he had just run a mile. His face was bright red and his hands were holding either of Trent’s arms as he searched his face for a reaction. Or anything really.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” It felt as though Trent was living in one of those shitty romantic comedies he secretly liked to watch, because he was the one who cut Chuck off while speaking with an somehow even more desperate kiss. He felt him respond almost instant, bringing one of his hands up to Trent’s face to cup it gently as his own arms latched cautiously onto Chuck’s hips. And that was where they stayed, for who knew how long, but every second of it was exactly where they wanted to be.

You know, of all days to have the life-changing realization that you’re secretly in love with your best friend, Trent - and Chuck for that matter - hadn’t expected it to happen on (the day after) Valentine’s Day.

[just-incorrect-beastars]

Beastars Fandom Interview!

This post starts a series of interviews I want to make to artists in this fandom! I’m really sorry for the delay with this, but I had to take care of some business irl! The first interview it’s with @dooptown, talented artist and writer of Craving More Than You’re Given, Beasts in The Stars and co-author of We’re Only Animals with @nilesthewhitetaileddeerqueer! Enjoy! If you want to submit other questions feel free to do it!

How did you get into the fandom?

My friend showed me its debut cover on Shonen Champion back in like 2016? At the time I thought the art looked weird so I put it on the backburner. Fast forward to May of 2017 and the same friend started reading it and recommended that I do as well. And the rest is history.

What do you feel about Beastars? Has it improved or not with the latest volumes?

My relationship with Beastars has definitely been complicated. If you go way back on my blog you're sure to find text posts of me complaining endlessly about it because that was back when I thought the whole thing would devolve into a romance story. I saw the romance between Haru and Legosi as forced and shallow (I don't think that anymore, although I do wish it was given more focus so we can really understand it). After the Meteor Festival Arc I got really invested in it, and I believe the Murder Solution Arc is the strongest in the story. The slice of life leaning of Legosi living on his own is really good too. Melon's introduction kind of marked the descent into the Weirdness we're seeing now. I love Melon to bits but the story right now is really weird and weird things keep happening. I still enjoy a handful of the chapters coming out currently, and the last few have been really great, but it's definitely not as good as it used to be. What I crave most from Beastars is slice of life.

Do you have a favorite character?

Overall? I'm not sure. I'll just say it's Louis.

You are considered one of the first Lougosi writers/artists and one of the most looked up to. How does it feel?

While there were certainly a handful of Lougosi fics before mine as well as some art, I do remember that ship being a bit barren when the manga wasn't as popular. I'm not aware of just how influential or far reaching my work with this ship is, since this is the internet and tracking that sort of thing is kind of impossible and I tend to be a bit of an aloof hermit. Knowing I'm relatively well known in a community I care a lot about is a nice feeling, though! But at the end of the day I'm a fan just like anyone else.

How has the fandom changed since you joined, especially since the anime came out?

It has blown up, that's for sure! The tumblr tag for Beastars back in 2017 was me and maybe four other regular posters, and I was the only artist posting consistent Beastars art back then (that I remember) As time went on it definitely gained in popularity, mostly by word of mouth, but even in March of 2019 it had a virtually empty Ao3 tag. So the anime, understandably, launched Beastars into the mainstream (or at least close to it). This is awesome and I love that it's seeing so much popularity and praise! Of course that also brings with it the ugliness of general Fandom Drama. Beastars Discourse is the most unwelcome thing to come of this popularity and it's the reason I no longer track the tag here on tumblr or look it up on twitter.

Your art is very popular. Have you ever thought of making a comic?

I would like to make comics but comic layout is intimidating and so is the whole process. Maybe one day.

 3 fics that you would recommend?

serendipity by elkieistrying

  Want a Haru/Juno story with a nice helping of Lougosi on the side? Serendipity can scratch that itch. Both ships are very well written and I love the characterization so much in this story.

Ashfall by Skeptacles

This fic doesn't seem to have many hits, and I think that's because people are turned away by it being a Game of Thrones crossover. As someone who has never read, watched, or even knows anything about Game of Thrones, I can say this fic is a great read! Skeptacles presents the setting and worldbuilding in an easy to understand way and if you have no GoT knowledge like I do, it simply seems like a Beastars Fantasy story.

To one I am tied, to the other I am true by Sinpie_Senpai 

This was the first Lougosi fic I ever read, and it is the second English Lougosi fic on Ao3. It was very influential to my decision to start writing Lougosi fic, and if you haven't read it yet I think you should.

How much have you worked on merging the manga’s plot and your story for Craving More Than You’re Given?

For CMTYG the merging of the plot just happened naturally. I started it in March of 2019 so at that point Legosi just had his birthday and hadn't seen Louis in a while, so I figured a birthday party would be a good reason for them to meet again. I wrote from there while also paying attention to where the canon plot was going to see what I wanted to incorporate.

You think you're gonna include the turf war in your fic? And are there any new characters you want to include?

Since this story was conceived long before this manga plot started, I won't be including it. Things are going to go very differently. As for new characters, I don't think so.

What inspired Beasts in the Stars?

As for Beasts in the Stars, I've always been a Sci fi fan. This story is loosely based on an AU I made for my OCs back in 2015, as well as some Sci fi ideas I've had bouncing around in my head for years. I can't point to any specific inspirations, but people compare it to Cowboy Bebop, which I can see since both of a laid back hard Sci fi aesthetic. I also write Star Fox fanfic, so I’m definitely using some of my experience from that. 

Legosi in the fic is homosexual or what? What about Louis?

Their sexualities will be explained, but I usually work off my headcanon of Legosi being bi and Louis being gay.

What other characters do you want to include in Beasts in the Stars?

BITS will hopefully include virtually every character from Beastars in some capacity.

What's the difference between writing a story more anchored to the manga and one that isn't?

Writing a fic that's manga-compliant is fun because you have to take into consideration past actions in the story and make sure it lines up with what they're doing in the fic. Of course, there's less freedom there, so that's why writing an AU also has its positives. Using the characters as a base to work off of in a new setting is very exciting.

Any spoilers you would like to share for both of them?

CMTYG: Next chapter is being written, and the summer clothes Legosi pics I've been drawing definitely play a role ;) 

BITS: Next canon characters you'll be seeing are the Drama Club folks. I hope people enjoy how I adapted them for this story.

And this was it! If you are an artist in the fandom and you want to partecipate to this please feel free to write me, I’ll get back at you as soon as possible!

[calamity-bean]

Notes: Barkskins Q&A

Barkskins fans! Today (6/28/20), American Cinematheque hosted a Barkskins Q&A webinar with creator Elwood Reid and cast members Marcia Gay Harden (Mathilde Geffard), Christian Cooke (Rene Sel), and David Thewlis (Claude Trepagny). Elwood, Marcia, and Christian were on the call live, while David was interviewed beforehand and his responses recorded. Topics discussed included: 

The show’s general scope and the adaptation process

Historical research

Accent coaching

Colonialism and the portrayal of First Nations characters/cultures

Sets and wardrobe

An audience question for Marcia about Mathilde’s daughter

An audience question for Christian about Rene’s physical/action scenes

Here I’m sharing a summary of the notes I took during the talk. This isn’t a transcript and I didn’t write down everything, but I tried to note interesting things as accurately as I was able. Please pardon any misinterpretations or errors; I did the best I could, but if you remember something differently (or have something to add), feel free to let me know.

This got quite long... Lots of notes below!

The Show in General

First, the big one: the show has not yet been renewed for a second season, but Elwood is hopeful! He feels like season 1 just barely “set the table” for the story, only to yank the tablecloth off right at the end, and he wants more seasons so that viewers can really dig into the meal. It was always planned as multi-season, and right now he’s just hoping that there’s been a good enough viewing and that people talk enough about the show.

The season was originally slated for ten episodes, but had to be cut to nine and then to eight due to the weather changing and due to the time necessary to construct sets. 

The book was considered to be a huge challenge to adapt -- almost unadaptable. Initially, Elwood had ideas for doing a generational / time-skip structure like in the novel, where each season would start over and focus on a new time period; however, one of the main reasons he scrapped that idea was because of the cast. He really adores the whole cast and is excited to write more stories for these actors rather than switching focus to new characters. 

In general, the show was repeatedly described as being essentially about “haves” versus “have-nots” -- who are the “haves,” who are the “have-nots,” what do they want and what are they willing to do in order to become a “have.” It is also a show in which every character (except Rene, initially) has a secret and everyone has something they want that they can’t have.

Also, things such as which characters live/die will not be beholden to what happens in the book.

Historical and Character Research

Marcia and Christian have both read the entire book. Since Mathilde wasn’t in the novel, Marcia called up Elwood with a lot of ideas for how to develop the character, although in the end Mathilde became someone much gravelly, crass, and more conniving than she had initially expected. Christian was very impressed by the scope and uniqueness of the story and found Rene’s simple worldview appealing, describing Rene as a man of the forest, a man of the land, with desires that are simple but meaningful and noble: a better life, prosperity, a piece of his own land.

David read about the first hundred pages, and his initial idea of Trepagny was as someone much tougher and more physically imposing, as portrayed in the book. He then had to work to shed that preconception of the character into the very different Trepagny of the script. He described Trepagny as a man of contradictions: Is he good or bad? Charming or obnoxious? Vulnerable or a bully? Does he live in a cabin or a mansion? Does he worship a god / dual god or a rotten old log? Is he delusional or is he a visionary?

Primary source materials from the period that Elwood used in his historical research include the accounts of Jesuit missionaries, business ledgers describing trade and commerce, and a few memoirs from filles du roi. However, he found it difficult to find primary sources, especially in English, and was careful to remember that these accounts always had a French/colonial bias.

Marcia did a LOT of research on her own in order to better understand what conditions in France might have driven the Geffards to leave. She asked herself, “Why the hell would anyone leave France to come to these mosquito-filled woods with ostensibly hostile First Nations people and English? What was going on in that moment BEFORE they came over?”

Christian didn’t do much historical research but rooted his character in terms of the physical research he did, such as learning woodcutting. He said Rene came from a rural area of northern France and was a woodsman there as well. 

Accent Coaching

Marcia said they did receive accent coaching, but they didn’t want to lean too hard into strong accents because they wanted to give the impression that the French characters were speaking French, which, as their native language, would be very fluid. So it was okay to not have a heavy accent in order to better communicate that effect.

It was also okay for everyone to have different takes on the French accent, because they wanted to give the effect that these characters were coming from all different parts of France and each had their own individual background. They felt that communicating the characters was more important than getting the accents entirely correct.

They likewise had Native actors speak English on screen when their characters were talking among themselves (even when the characters should be understood as not speaking English) so that the audience would get that same impression of fluidity, cleverness, and colloquial conversation.

Colonialism: "Whose perspective are we bringing to bear? Whose story are we telling?”

Elwood acknowledged that Americans tend to be bad about looking outside their own history and that societies with a history of colonizing tend to come up with justifications for why it was okay for them to invade and colonize others. They wanted the show to avoid reinforcing that idea and to not sugarcoat the reality of it.

He mentioned the importance of having Migizi Pensoneau’s voice in the writer’s room. They also made an effort to speak with tribal communities and leaders in the area in order to gain their insight.

Elwood also hit on the effect of the Western film genre (as in cowboy Westerns) in shaping stereotypes about Native Americans and exporting these stereotypes to the rest of the world. Wanted to avoid those stereotypes (bc they’re inaccurate anyway and bc Barkskins takes place in the eastern part of the continent, not the western, and in an earlier time period) and in general to avoid portraying indigenous people as a uniform/interchangeable monoculture.

Marcia highlighted efforts to foreground First Nations characters in front of the camera as well, specifically mentioning Yvon and Mari. She mentioned that Yvon was educated at Harvard and that Mari’s father was French.

Sets and Wardrobe

This was my favorite section because I love this stuff and it was very impressive! Elwood basically gushed about how the production designer (Isabelle Guay), costume designer (Anna Terrazas), and wig maker were invaluable to the show. I tried to record the wig maker’s name, but I was going by ear, and I couldn’t find any search results that seemed right based on the spellings I tried. He was a Montreal area wig maker whose name sounded like (but I am sure is not spelled like) “Ray-jean For-jay.”

Isabelle Guay is local to the area and was in charge of building all the sets. She scouted all the areas personally and paid close attention to period details in construction. Authenticity was very important to Nat Geo; it had to look good and feel real.

Most of the costumes were not existing pieces that the show rented or reused; Anna Terrazas wanted to build as much as possible from scratch herself. She and the other costumers dyed deerskins, found period 17th- and 18th-century fabrics to make garments out of, and even hand built shoes.

Likewise, although it would have been cheaper to get okay-looking wigs premade, the wig maker wanted to make high-quality authentic ones himself. He flew to the actors, measured their heads, bought hair in France, and then constructed all the wigs himself.

Marcia on how the costume informed her character: Anna gave her a leather pouch to hang on a belt around her waist. It was filled with lavender, the idea being that Mathilde kept this lavender close to counter the foul smells of Wobik. Marcia viewed it as a “little secret” to draw on in her acting.

Christian found the costumes surprisingly comfortable/immersive and the landscape very awe-inspiring.

The moodboard for Trepagny’s wardrobe/aesthetic included pictures of Nick Cave and Jimi Hendrix.

Mathilde’s Daughter

Marcia was asked how much of the details about Mathilde’s daughter were of her own invention. She said that everything said on screen about Veronique was straight from the script, but she came up with more herself in order to inform her acting.

Marcia imagines that Veronique probably died from a sickness, perhaps something like whooping cough that to many of us today wouldn’t seem so serious but which would be more fatal in that era.

This is the point at which Elwood blindsided Marcia, me, and everybody else by talking about a scene he had been “obsessed” with a planned scene in which Renardette would go down to a room below the inn and find Veronique’s preserved body hidden down there, covered in her own dresses. Ultimately, Elwood felt that this was “too gothic” and that it wouldn’t work for Mathilde in a season of only 8 episodes, because it would too quickly take the audience’s understanding of her to a very bizarre/dark place.

He defended the idea by saying that it wasn’t uncommon at the time for people to do things like that, i.e. keep a loved one’s remains for a period of time. (I will take your word for it, Elwood. Also, I’m totally ready for you to go full gothic on this show, please follow your weird impulses in the future.) Marcia, though, felt that it wouldn’t make sense for a character as pragmatic as Mathilde. She pointed out that Francis is the one who wants things like refinements, whereas Mathilde is much more practical.

Also, I was today years old when I learned that Lola Reid (Renardette) is showrunner Elwood Reid’s daughter. In my defense, it’s not an uncommon last name.

Christian on Rene

Christian was asked about the physical aspects of playing Rene, such as chopping wood, fighting, swimming, etc., and which were most difficult and which most enjoyable. He said that he loved those aspects; he would get immersed in the physical act so much that he would forget he was acting. He could get very emotional in those intense moments and found it very difficult to come out of those scenes because of how emotionally charged they were (such as when watching character deaths) but also found it very enjoyable in a cathartic way.

Elwood said that he thought Christian had the hardest role because Rene is a stoic person who has to hold the screen with very few words. It was at this point that he talked about all the characters having secrets and something they want but can’t have; he pointed out that Rene is the only character who doesn’t have a secret and whose wants and needs are very simple. This makes his character “like a rock” that other characters try to pick up and bash around but can’t figure out what to do with.

In light of that, Elwood felt that this first season was a slow burn for Rene, but that the future focus of the character’s arc is essentially: What’s the breaking point of a man like that? What will make him crack? What will make him act out of his character?

He said it was also similar for James Bloor (Charles Duquet) because he had to take so much abuse in this first season, with Elwood assuring James that it was building toward a big future payoff.

In conclusion...

Aaand that’s all I’ve got! We are all encouraged to keep talking about the show and to make known our desire for a second season. Thanks for reading, and like I said, let me know if you have anything to add or to correct.

[themangledsans0508]

Happy Birthday, Honey

Allie (my sister) before you even start, fuck off.

Craig Tucker didn’t think when he was younger that he would end up in a long-term relationship with another boy. He thought he would end up alone, just him and his guinea pig. He remembered his horror at those girls drawing pictures of him and Tweek, not because it was Tweek but because it was another man. He remembered pretending to be with him, and then something changed.

He felt something he hadn’t felt before, not even with his ex-girlfriend: he felt love towards another person.

He remembered briefly breaking up and being distraught, over a stupid game. That New Kid really saved his ass.

He smiled to himself, sitting criss-cross on Tweek’s bed, twiddling his fingers in anticipation for his lover to return from work. August 17th, Tweek’s birthday. A week before Senior year, and he had finally turned seventeen barely before the cut-off date. 

He didn’t really intend on doing anything with Tweek unless he suggested it first. He didn’t want to overwhelm him.

Yeah, they had both gotten “the talk” when they were in fourth grade. They weren’t even together then, and it was really fucking awkward. 

Craig looked out the window, losing patience as the sun set below the tree line. Why the hell did Tweek have to work so goddamn late? 

He felt his phone buzz and swiftly snatched it. He sighed when he was it was just another Coonstgram post, which he had no clue why they still used. They were seventeen, and they still used an app they made for a game they played when they were ten. He would admit, occasionally they still played stuff like superheroes, humans and elves, and cowboys and Indians, but it was a lot different now.

He looked at the post, which was from Clyde that tagged both him and Tweek.

My dude @CraigTucker is about to have some fun… Happy birthday @TweekTweak and protect that ass lol.

Craig’s fingers flew faster than the wind in response.

Dude stfu.

Craig looked out the window again, the last glimpses of sunlight fading over the horizon. He saw a golden bob of hair walking down the sidewalk, twitching slightly. He grinned, relaxing into the bed and holding a bag of gifts behind his back. He heard the front door open, and a few small noises along with footsteps. He watched the door intently in suspense. 

The door violently swung open and Tweek screamed. He placed his hand on his chest and took deep breaths.

“For fuck’s sake Craig? How the hell did you get in my house?” he demanded.

“You gave me a house key babe,” Craig answered. Tweek covered his face with his hands, blushing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” he muttered. Craig lifted himself off Tweek’s bed and walked up to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and keeping the other behind his back with the gifts. Tweek responded in turn by wrapping his arms around Craig’s neck and pressing their foreheads together.

Craig may have been taller by a couple of inches, but Tweek would stand on the tips of his toes and make Craig tilt downwards so he could have his way. 

Tweek sighed and moved to rest against Craig’s chest instead. 

“My parents hate me, Craig.” Craig looked down in confusion, studying the shorter boy.

“Tweek they don’t hate you. That doesn’t-” He stopped himself. He had been working on becoming more empathetic over the past seven years, and he really was getting better at understanding emotions. “Why do you think they hate you?”

Tweek moved his hands to Craig’s shoulder, clutching him tightly.

“Well, it’s mostly my dad. Having one of the two gay kids in this town as your son is apparently ‘great for business’ because ‘people want to be supportive.’” Tweek mumbled. Craig nodded and pulled him a little closer.

“The only reason he’d care if I died would be because eventually, people wouldn’t care he lost his only son. With me living, people constantly want to support us. So he uses that for himself.” Craig wouldn’t have ever said it, but he agreed with Tweek. Richard cared solely about his coffee shop, Craig thought even more than he cared for his wife.

“Tweek, it’s okay. Next year, after we graduate, we’re gonna move out, together. You won’t have to work there, we’ll be able to live on our own and work where we want. We can steal Token’s money if we have to.” Tweek laughed lightly.

“I’m looking forward to it. But I still have a year, Craig. What am I going to do until then?” Craig frowned.

“I don’t know, Tweek. We’ll figure it out though, I promise.” Tweek hugged Craig tightly, sniffling slightly.

“I-I love you, Craig.” Craig hummed lightly. He moved to grab his hand and revealed his bag.

“Happy birthday honey.” Tweek laughed, looking at his gifts.

“Really? Is this the best time, Craig?” Craig shrugged.

“I got impatient.” He released Tweek’s hand a pulled a rose carefully out of the bag. He handed it to Tweek and continued his search through the bag. He pulled out a fidget spinner, earning another chuckle out of Tweek, and finally wrapped his hands around a small box.

He reached out to take Tweek’s hand again, dropping onto his knees. Tweek began laughing hysterically as he watched him pull out the box. 

“Tweek Tweak, we’ve been together seven years and still can’t get married. So, with this ring, I promise someday I’m going to marry you.” Craig cracked open the box, revealing a jade-colored ring. Tweek reached his hand down before stopping himself, and instead spread his fingers. 

Craig took the ring and gently slid it on, then intertwined their fingers. A grin spread across Tweek’s face and he looked into Craig’s eyes.

“You’re so gay.”

“No shit, babe.” Tweek’s smile faded as he looked at Craig’s hands.

“Craig, don’t you have a ring too?” Craig looked down to their intertwined hands.”

“Shit. Uh, yeah, I do somewhere.” Craig said, feeling his pockets. Tweek joined in the search, albeit a little maliciously. He reached around Craig’s back, his arms slid around his waist and his hands dipped into Craig’s back pockets.

Craig jumped a little at the feeling of hands touching his ass and he looked at Tweek who, compared to his slight blush, was as red as a tomato. Tweek pulled one hand out of Craig’s pocket and showed an identical ring to his own, and beckoned for Craig to put his hand out.

Craig obliged, feeling the cool material slip on perfectly. Tweek smiled mischievously and pushed Craig onto the bed, straddling his waist.

“My Craig~”

His breath hitched and he moved his hands onto Tweek’s waist. He looked up at the blonde boy, who leaned close to his face and kissed him. Tweek pulled back and looked down at him, worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay with this?” He asked. Craig moved one hand behind Tweek’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair.

He pulled him back down and took his turn to kiss him. When they pulled away, Craig nodded.

“I’m okay with whatever you want. Happy Birthday, Tweek.”

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 5 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

He’d put the phone down on the counter while he made breakfast, but now that his hands were free again he still didn’t pick it up; after their initial awkward phone call, they’d started FaceTiming instead, and as much as he loved seeing her face, he was really glad she couldn’t see his right now.

“And I was soo confused, so I started telling her, like, ‘Seriously, Honey, he’s got this amazing blond hair that you just like, want to touch all the time and these big brown eyes and little freckles and plus I’m pretty sure he’s kind of ripped and I—‘ Kristoff, I heard the microwave go off already. Are you hiding from me?”

“No,” he muttered, his face turning even redder.

chapter 5

day 1

Sven was just stumbling into the kitchen when Kristoff came in. He frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“You look really happy for someone who just dropped off their girlfriend at the airport for a six-week trip,” he said, pouring a glass of chocolate milk. 

“Not my girlfriend.”

“Not the important part of that sentence.”

Kristoff snagged the bottle and poured himself a cup. “This is mine, by the way, so you owe me.”

“Fine, I’ll buy toilet paper l-- no, I know you, Bjorgman, you’re trying to distract me.”

Sven narrowed his eyes further, fixing Kristoff with a hard stare. He tried to look as innocent as possible as he went to rummage through the fridge, but then he remembered the way Anna had clung to him, the feel of her little hands in his hair, the press of her lips against--

“Oh my god! You kissed her!”

Kristoff stood, not bothering to hide his smile anymore. “Well, technically, she kissed me.”

“I fucking called it, man, I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold off that much longer.”

“We really did try.”

“You didn’t even make it a week, my guy,” Sven said amiably, meandering into the living room. “You tried harder at Mario Kart the other night. Which, by the way, I know you lost on purpose so Anna could win.”

Kristoff considered arguing, but then his phone lit up with a text from Anna, so instead he grinned and walked away to the sound of Sven sighing dramatically. “I heard that buzz! I know it’s her! Jesus, I’d say get a room, but--”

Kristoff didn’t hear the rest as he shut his bedroom door.

kris!! theres wifi i can text you

Im in first class look 

..

That’s crazy

They gave you champagne this early in the morning?

..

supposed to be for mimosas

but it’s like 5 o clock somewhere

specifically romania so

..

That jet lag is going to be rough.

How long is your flight?

..

10 hrs to london then 3 to bucharest💀

but i think my seat turns into a bed so ill try to sleep

theres sooooo many movies tho!

omg theyre bringing more snacks….i feel like a movie star already

..

You kind of are.

..

havent made the movie yet!!

oh the director is here he wants to talk ttyl

..

:)

---

day 4

For some reason, her hands were shaking as they hovered over the green button. “Just do it, Anna,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just Kristoff. He told you to call.”

Thanks to the time difference and long flights, it had taken most of two days to even get here, and on her first full day in Romania she’d been so overwhelmed with the film set and meeting her co-star Adam and talking to the directors and producers and costumers and cameramen that she’d completely crashed the moment she’d gotten back to her hotel room. She’d woken up in the middle of the night and sent Kristoff a quick text apologizing for not calling; he’d responded almost immediately, reassuring her that it was fine and to just call him the next day. At a reasonable hour, he’d made sure to add, not at 2 A.M. Go back to sleep.

She had, and then she’d nearly missed her alarm and hadn’t had time to call him in the morning, and then she’d been filming her first scene and been so overwhelmed by all of that that now it was nearly six o’clock, and it was the first time she’d gotten to look at her phone all day.

He’d texted her once at around 9 A.M. her time. Good luck today! You’ll kill it. Her heart had done a funny little flip at the message, simple as it was; every time she thought of Kristoff, it didn’t feel quite real, like it was just a daydream she would wake up from, but here it was, concrete proof that even literally halfway around the world-- more than halfway, actually-- he was still thinking of her, still caring about her.

The remembrance of that was what finally gave her the courage to hit call. She felt too nervous to FaceTime him, especially considering she was already in sweatpants and halfway through eating a bowl of pasta on her bed. He picked up on the third ring, sounding breathless for some reason.

“Hey! Anna! How are you?”

“I’m, um, I’m good! How are you? You sound kind of...out of breath?”

“Oh, yeah, you caught me at the gym, so I--”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, let me hang up and--”

“No, don’t! I’m almost done, just--”

There was a quick beep in the background, and a whirring noise she hadn’t noticed until now stopped. “Okay, sorry, we’re good.”

She couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like right now, with his hair hanging in his eyes and sweat dripping down his very well-muscled--

“Anna? You there?”

He’d just asked her something, but she’d been too busy daydreaming to catch it. Maybe it really was for the best she hadn’t gone for FaceTime; she probably would have been struck speechless at the sight of him. “Sorry, I was just-- sorry. Um. What did you say?”

He laughed softly. “I asked how your first day of filming went.”

“Oh! It was good, really good, actually. We filmed that scene I auditioned with, actually. They changed the bit about the cowboy boots.”

“Thank god. I don’t know anything about movies, but I know that was awful.”

“Oh, yeah, Adam-- that’s who’s playing Jesse-- he said they’d have to double his paycheck if they wanted him to say shit like that, and then we kind of improv-ed something else and it went really well.”

“That’s awesome!”

Anna felt herself blushing, just barely, at the sound of the genuine pride in his voice. “It was, um, it was nothing, really.”

“So how’s all of it going? Are the...um...honestly, I don’t know who all is involved in making movies. But are the other people nice?”

“Yeah! I really like the girl who does my hair and makeup, her name’s Honey. Isn’t that cute?”

Kristoff laughed; she could hear him starting the car in the background. Anna bit her lip. “Oh-- did you get to shower?”

“I will at home, don’t worry. Anyway--”

“You need to focus on driving? Yeah, I totally get it, seriously. Bye!”

She hit the red button and quickly dropped her phone. Her heart had been pounding the whole time; god, she was really out of practice with this whole thing. Embarrassment swept over her, and she buried her face in her knees; how the hell was this going to work when she was too self-conscious to talk to him for more than five minutes? God, she’d be lucky if he ever bothered to call her again after this.

To her surprise, the phone buzzed only a moment later. She debated picking it up for a long moment, then decided to go ahead and rip the bandaid off and snatched it up.

Just FYI, I was feeling really nervous, too. Want me to call you back after I get home and shower?

For some reason, tears started to fill her eyes as she typed a response. 

yes please :)

She showered, too, taking her time as she let the hot water work its magic on the tension in her shoulders, drawing in slow, deep breaths to steady herself. It wasn’t that every guy she’d ever dated had been bad, per se, just that it had been quite a long time since she’d been with someone who made her feel this nervous and excited and terrified and joyful all at once-- actually, now that she thought about it, she didn’t know if she’d ever liked someone else this much right off the bat. Since coming to L.A. almost two years ago, she’d had a string of bad luck with men, and it was strange readjusting to the notion that one would want to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, that he actually wanted to hear about her day, that he saw right through all her embarrassing little defense mechanisms and somehow knew just what to say to make her feel better. Of course they knew each other, but this was something different, something more, as if she didn’t even have to say something for him to understand.

Her phone buzzed again ten minutes after she got out of the shower; with a smile, she picked it up.

“Hey, Kris.”

“Hey, Anna.”

“Ready to try again?”

“With you? Always.”

---

day 9

“So I was telling her, like, ‘I wish I had a recent picture of him to show you because he’s like, super super hot.’ And she kind of made this face and was like ‘that won’t make a difference.’”

He’d put the phone down on the counter while he made breakfast, but now that his hands were free again he still didn’t pick it up; after their initial awkward phone call, they’d started FaceTiming instead, and as much as he loved seeing her face, he was really glad she couldn’t see his right now. 

“And I was soo confused, so I started telling her, like, ‘Seriously, Honey, he’s got this amazing blond hair that you just like, want to touch all the time and these big brown eyes and little freckles and plus I’m pretty sure he’s kind of ripped and I—‘ Kristoff, I heard the microwave go off already. Are you hiding from me?”

“No,” he muttered, his face turning even redder. 

Anna giggled. “Then show me your face.”

He did so reluctantly; to his surprise, she didn’t laugh. “Kris, you know you are, like, super handsome, right? Seriously.”

“I’m, um, I’m just gonna—“

“I mean it. Like I get why you’re feeling shy about it and stuff but just know that, okay?”

He only nodded, feeling a little better, although his face was still heated. Anna, knowing when to leave well enough alone, smiled at him and continued her story. “Anyway, I told her all that and she just started laughing, and finally when I was done she was like ‘Anna, I’m gay’. And so then I showed her a picture of my sister, and I’m just saying, when we’re back in LA, we’re definitely doing a double date.”

—-

day 15

She didn’t know why she felt so nervous about telling him about it. She’d already texted him that morning telling him what scenes they were filming, and it wasn’t like it had meant anything; it was just part of the movie, and Adam was married anyway— but then again, it wasn’t that part that had really been bothering her. She still wasn’t sure until she was explaining it all to Kristoff, forcing herself to maintain eye contact as she held up her phone inside the blanket nest she’d constructed on her bed. 

“And like, he and I are good friends now, so that at least made it easier. And we were all in character and stuff, so, you know, it felt right, and then they started the fake snow going and we just did it, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Kristoff said, his voice neutral. 

“That like— this doesn’t bother you, right?” she asked quickly. “Because seriously, it didn’t mean—“

“Anna, I know. This is literally your job, I’m not jealous or anything. But please tell me if I ever make you feel like I’m mad or something, because I’m seriously not.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I— I know. I just...wanted to make sure. Because it still, like...still felt weird to me, you know? And I can’t figure out why.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Have you done this before? Like, stage kissing and stuff?”

“Oh, yeah, lots of times. But this time felt kind of different. I just don’t know why.”

He considered it for a moment, looking so thoughtful she couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little flutter in her chest at the thought that he really and truly cared about helping her figure this out. “Enough about me, though, tell me about that crazy to-go order you texted me about. Did you end up getting to see the person who’d ordered it?”

They talked for so long Anna lost track of time, until she yawned so widely Kristoff stopped talking mid-sentence. 

“Anna, what time is it there?”

“Um...close to eleven?”

“What time did you get up this morning?”

“...four.”

He laughed softly. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow morning, okay?”

She wanted to argue, but honestly she’d been fighting to keep her eyes open for the last half hour. “Night, Kris.”

“Night, Anna. Sweet dreams.”

He said that every night, but the way he’d smiled tonight— she was thinking about it until long after she’d hung up her phone and closed her eyes. Then, suddenly, she sat upright and snatched it up again, typing furiously. 

figured it out...before, there’s never been someone i ACTUALLY wanted to kiss instead 

..

:)

I wish it had been me, too. 

—

day 21

hey kris!!! sorry i know it’s the middle of the night there so i hope this doesn’t wake you up but i set an alarm on my phone for the exact time and as of like 10 seconds ago we’re halfway there!!!!!!! 😊😊😊

To her surprise, a response came just a few minutes later. 

:) Knew we could do this.

—

day 23

“I got my class schedule today.”

“Yeah? Show me!”

He held it up awkwardly to the camera, and she squinted at it. “Oh, wow, that’s a lot of blocks. Are you still going to work at Starbucks?”

“Yeah, I’ve been there the whole time I’ve been in school. Just work less hours on weekdays, usually pick up some early morning weekend shifts.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

He shrugged. “It works out. I, uh, I’ve got some scholarships that cover most of my tuition, so then it’s, y’know. Rent money and stuff.”

Anna frowned, feeling suddenly acutely aware of how much money she was making for a lot less work. “Will you have, like...any free time?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he said quickly, suddenly sounding nervous. “I promise I’ll still have time to hang out with you and stuff, just--”

“No, no that’s like-- shit, that’s not what I meant, Kris, I mean I kind of did but like-- I’m not trying to like, pressure you or--”

“No, I get it, I--”

“No, I mean like school is way important and you like--”

“Seriously, when I say we can--”

Anna took a deep breath. “Okay. You talk first.”

“I, um. I don’t want you to think, like, I won’t make time for you or something, though. Um-- that was all.”

She smiled, wishing she could be there in person; it was so much easier to reassure him when she could just squeeze his hand. “Seriously, that’s not what I meant. I was just worried about you, ‘cause that’s, like, a lot of stress. So if there’s anything I can do to like, help or whatever, just...just let me know. Like...with anything.”

“Seriously, I think it’ll help a ton to just have a pretty girl keeping me company while I study.”

She felt her cheeks turn pink. “What if I end up wanting to distract you?”

Now she wasn’t the only one blushing.

---

day 30

“Miss you.”

“Miss you, too.”

Tonight, there wasn’t really anything else to say.

—- 

day 34

He’d stopped leaving his phone on silent overnight; it was silly, really, but he always had a tiny fear that maybe something would happen over in Romania while he was asleep, and maybe Anna would need to reach him, and there probably wouldn’t be anything he could actually do...but still.

Despite that, though, it still took a lot to wake him, so when his phone went off one night close to three in the morning, he nearly missed the call. “Hello?” he mumbled sleepily, putting it to his ear.

He heard a familiar little giggle. “It’s FaceTime, Kris. I’m sorry to wake you up, I just-- I really wanted you to see this.”

“Oh-- hang on.” He fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand, sliding them on and blinking blearily at the screen. “Um...where are you? I just see, like...the ceiling?”

“Oh-- that’s cause I gave my phone to Honey, just a second, and she’ll show you.”

The phone was lifted up suddenly by a pretty woman with bronze skin and dark hair thrown up into a bun. “Nice to meet you, Anna’s boyfriend.”

He wondered if she could see him blush even in the dark room. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Okay, okay, I’m ready!” he heard Anna chirp from somewhere. “Turn the camera!”

Honey did with a laugh, and Kristoff sat upright, his eyes wide. Anna was in a deep blue ballgown that fit perfectly to her torso before flaring out into a long, shimmery skirt. Her hair was down, set in curls that shone especially bright against the dark color of the gown, and she was smiling so brightly he thought his heart was going to burst.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, half-convinced he was still dreaming.

She was quiet for a moment, and then he realized she was blushing bright red. He heard Honey giggle, and then the phone was being handed back over to Anna. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“What, beautiful? I definitely--”

“No, I--” Her blush deepened. “Kris, are you wearing a shirt?”

He glanced down. “Oh-- uh, no, I’m not. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be able to see without the lights--”

A mischievous glint was twinkling in her eye. “Trust me, Bjorgman, there’s nothing to apologize for.”

Now he was blushing, too. “Um-- so you’ve got to be filming something special today, right?”

“Yeah, the big ballroom scene. I just...I really love this dress, and the way Honey did my hair and stuff, and I, um...I wanted you to see.”

He smiled softly. “I’m glad. You really do look so, so beautiful.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but then he heard Honey call, “Hey, Anna, say bye to the boyfriend, they want you on set in five.”

Anna turned back to the camera, looking suddenly nervous. “Kris, are you my boyfriend?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned, no longer sleepy. “Okay.”

Anna laughed. “Okay?”

“Hey, it’s still the middle of the night, and I’m still kind of speechless after seeing you in that dress. Cut me some slack.”

“Go back to bed. Sorry I woke you up.”

He yawned. “I’m not.”

---

day 40

“Look! All packed!” She grinned, turning her phone quickly around the room to show off her only slightly overstuffed suitcases. “And ready to come home!”

“Do you think you’ll miss it?”

“No, I mean...it’s beautiful and all here, but it’s still not home.”

Kristoff grinned at that. “You still want me to pick you up from the airport?”

“Um, is that even a question?”

He laughed. “Just making sure! I mean, six weeks is a long time, don’t know if you got tired of me.”

“Kristoff, the second I get back to LA, I’m like, jumping on you again and kissing the fuck out of you.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “And then?”

She could tease him, too. “And then you’d better hurry the hell up and take me back to your apartment so I can show you how much I missed you.”

“....Jesus Christ. Why does waiting two more days suddenly feel so much longer than the other forty?”

[quackspot]

i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him

omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)

any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm

HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana

his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear 

since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)

i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends

(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)

ok back to the topic at hand. platano.

i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them

the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow

i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke

so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me” 

that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful. 

(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)

i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.

so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least

(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)

on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now 

“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground. 

“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??” 

“I can do that?”

“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands. 

“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.

“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.” 

Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could. 

His dads were never worried.

hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene 

he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake 

i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well

it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn 

yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it

OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE

so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie 

(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)

ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.

here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO

“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed. 

why is it bolded. anyway.

i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs. 

i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????” 

some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin 

looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im  tired lol)

OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku 

uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca.  ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now

He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.

“Banana, mango,

Each tasting amazingly.

A taste of evil.” 

Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.

it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.

actually that’s all i will write. i could  do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)

[nofeartina]

Your presence still lingers here - Part 5

[Part 1]  [Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4]

Sunday afternoons. 

Even's always thought they were a bit magical. It doesn't matter if it's because he's spending this one on Isak's couch, his head in his lap as Isak idly strokes his hair. Or if they're out walking, holding hands, the novelty of being able to do that making Even giddy over and over again. Or when their dinner is bubbling on the stove, tendering the meat and vegetables into something Even already knows will make Isak moan in pleasure. 

He likes it when Isak moans in pleasure. 

"I can't believe you're making me watch a western," Isak complains.

Even even likes it when Isak's complaining. 

"Shh, you're missing the best part." 

"Ugh, John Wayne. Is he really the best part?" 

Even just shushes him again and hides his smile in Isak's thigh. 

"He's the epitome of machismo - shoot the Indians and get the woman." 

"Yeah, but that's kind of the amusing part, in real life most of the cowboys were gay. Guess Hollywood missed that part." 

Isak huffs out a laugh, pulls playfully at Even's hair. "You say that like it’s something you know."

"I do know. It's so weird how history changes things and has made cowboys into these machismo, as you call them, stereotypes." 

The hand in his hair stills, but Even doesn't really pay attention to it, too busy mouthing along to the next lines to notice much else.

In hindsight, he really wishes he had paid attention to it. 

--||--

Another Sunday afternoon. Everything is so hot, the sweat covering their skin easing the slide of their bodies against each other.

“You always feel so good,” Even whispers into the narrow space between their mouths. He’s overwhelmed by how tight and warm and wet Isak is inside, how accommodating. How he looks at Even during, eyes half-lidded and dark, lips swollen and mouth slack. He’s like sin incarnate. 

Even feels sure that this is what all those religious people throughout time meant when they said sin corrupts. 

Even certainly feels corrupted by Isak.

“Even,” Isak sighs, lips so close that Even can taste his breath on his tongue.

He just wants this, wants to keep them, keep Isak, forever. The inevitability of the outcome of their affair threatens to take him out of the moment and Even fights it, pushes deeper, harder, takes hold of Isak’s leg to spread him more, to make it easier for him to bury himself so deep inside that his mind stops working.

“Even,” Isak says again, hand stroking over Even’s cheek, thumb brushing over his lips, pulling him down until his lips are covering Even’s.

Isak’s mouth manages to do what his body didn’t - distracts him enough that Even can refocus back on the moment, can forget everything else but the burning need simmering under his skin.

And then it’s easy to just give himself over to it.

After, when it’s done and they’re still sweaty and filthy and wonderful, Even still lying half on top of Isak, too lazy to move or do anything but lie here. Isak’s hand is drawing a trail on Even’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, making Even feel so good that he’s practically purring. That’s when Isak makes his move.

“Even?” he asks, hesitant and shaky, like he’s gearing up to ask Even something that he knows he won’t like.

Even tenses, can’t help it. But he still hmms, letting Isak know that he can continue.

“I-- I don’t know how to ask you this.”

Even hmms again, pulls Isak closer, savoring as much as possible while he still can.

“Is something wrong?” Isak finally asks.

Even is pretty sure that that’s not really what Isak wants to ask him, Isak is smart and Even hasn’t been as careful as he should’ve been. But Even would rather have this question over anything else.

“No,” he says, tips his head so he can look up at Isak. Isak is already looking down at him, like he was waiting for Even to catch up.

“It’s just-- you seem so sad sometimes. Right in the middle of things, like right now while we were having sex. It’s like I’m... losing you.”

Isak is smart. More intuitive than Even has given him credit for, it would seem.

Even gets up on his elbow, smooths his hand over Isak’s cheek and looks him in the eye.

Isak is right of course. He is losing him. Like Even is losing him. Slowly, day by day, hour by hour, second by second they’re creeping closer to the inescapable end. Another death, another love lost. This one improbably more painful than most others, this one sure to stay with Even for a long, long time. Longer than he wants to think about right now.

He leans in, kisses Isak, gently, lovingly, closes his eyes and wishes for it to be different. That he would be able to share his secrets with Isak and ask him to stay with him forever. But he can’t. He can’t. He could never be that selfish.

“Isak,” he whispers, enjoys how the name fits in his mouth, tastes on his tongue. Revels in how it still makes him feel happy and whole when he knows there’ll be a time where uttering that name alone will fill him with pain and grief. “I love you.”

Isak whimpers, pulls Even closer, wraps himself around Even like that act alone could remove Even’s sadness.

“I love you too,” Isak whispers back and Even could cry. Knows that he’s going to spend the rest of eternity equally elated and shamed by those words.

So he pulls Isak tighter, closer and closer and closer, until it’s almost like they’re one.

And then he whispers, “I’ll love you forever.”

No promise has ever been easier to make and there’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll keep it.

He’ll never forget Isak.

[beetl3s-moved]

I need to know EVERYTHING about Honey if you leave ANY info out can we rlly call ourselves friends pls unleash all the knowledge

!!!! Omg Kira I'm gonna cry :') OKAY SO

I've been working on him for a bit and Honey starts out as a 17 yr old whos been living on the streets and in awful sketchy motels for a bit less than a yr until 1 day when he was trying to steal some food from a convenience store but gets caught and beat up a little. He goes to a park and lies down and a guy tries to help him but he passes out. So this strange guys name is Logan (I think I'm gonna change it though idk) and he ends up being one of those rlly tough but rlly sweet guys and he helps him and honey doesnt trust him at first but as time goes on they become sorta like father and son bc it's all abt that FOUND FAMILY TROPE HERE. Logan then takes honey w him bc he was only near were he was bc he was on 'business' and they go to logan's place where he shares w a bunch of ppl and honeys like ???? Bc Logan is like 30 but these ppl take him in and care abt him and the FOUND FAMILY GETS BIGGER.

SO SOME STUFF ABT HONEY

Hes lawful evil/chaoic evil and is like the personification of be gay do crimes. He was kicked out of his house at 16 after he finished secondary school bc he came out as trans and his dad hated that so he lived w friends for a while before just kinda disappearing bc he felt shitty. He loves his friends and treasures them but he felt like a burden so he went off on his own for a while even if it meant having to steal and sleep in parks. Hes a sweet guy but hes rlly hard to figure out cause he doesnt trust easy. Hes loyal and can and WILL die for the ones he loves. He loves cooking and baking !! And after he started trusting his New Family completely he started cooking for them. He stands up for ppl he thinks need help and is always willing to help and put others before himself. Hes secretly rlly sentimintal like the first time logan called him son he started crying a lot and whenever anyone gives him smth like a trinket he treasures it forever. Logan gave him a necklace that used to b his (dog tags u think they're called ???) And he still wears it to this day and doesnt take it off. He steals clothes from everyone in the house and no one rlly complains bc they think its sweet and hes SHORT so everything is big on him (except logan's clothes bc hes short as hell too short kings unite) he does have his own clothes too and he loves going to stores/grocery stores and just wandering around. Hes got a nasty scar on his side from where he was stabbed once :((( he always makes up stuff abt it like YEAH I fought a BABY BEAR arent I cool and no one believes him but they let him and dont say anything ajdbqjbd. HES A FASHION DISASTER and cuts his own hair w dull scissors whenever it starts bothering him he just cuts away so his hairs a mess (I actually love drawing it and I might post pics of him soon) he loves old cartoons !!! And black and white detective movies and cowboy movies !! Its mostly logan influence but he likes watching them w him. He also LOVES monster movies. Hes got a bit of a short fuse and sometimes lashes out without meaning to but it also means he has zero (0) tolerance for stupidity.

THERES A BIT MORE BUT THIS IS LONG AND IVE GOTTA FINISHING DEVELOPING HIM !!! THANK U SM FOR BEING INTERESTED AND ASKING ABT HIM IM HAPPY RN

[thesportssoundoff]

A word on the ole elephant in the Barclay’s Center

Joey

Jan 15th

So I was working on my card write up for the UFC's ESPN debut and there's obviously a big elephant in the room regarding the co-main event. There's plenty of things I wanted to say or believe in saying and it was taking attention away from the card. It was getting way too long and so I figured I'd just do a separate bit on the entire situation. It's probably going to be a bit messy and perhaps a touch convoluted but I'm hoping that I can at least get some concepts out here. It's my "job" on here to be kind of rational and fair. Gonna put it under the read more just in case some people don't want a big wall of text given I've got ANOTHER wall of text coming re: actual fight business.

I want to begin with an irritable point of contention I have about not so much Greg Hardy but of a fake concept in MMA some people keep clinging to. Guys if I could, I would love to shout this to the heavens: There is NO such concept in MMA as earn nor deserve. Nobody earns anything and nobody deserves anything. We've seen it a million times now. Earn and deserve are fake in this sport and the longer we continue to believe in it, the more irritating it gets. There is no earn. There is no deserve.  There is truly no meritocracy here and the UFC has shown us that time and time again. Asking if Greg Hardy has "earned the right to be on the first ever ESPN card?" Idiotic. What has Alonzo Menifield done? Chance Rencountre? Who determines who has "earned" such an honor? Okay who determines who deserved it? The same company that felt has bent its unofficial playbook for dudes like Jon Jones and Conor McGregor? Think of all the fighters who have "earned" title shots and had them taken away or fighters who deserved spots on a main card only to be buried on the prelims due to their fighting style or in some cases whether or not their contract was expiring. I hate to be the dickhead here but we need to stop debating earn and deserve because it's fake. Combat sports make it fake and then revel in us getting tied up about something they don't care about.

Keeping with that point, remember that at the end of the day everybody has the same moral compass. The goal with this show is to get a rating and get ESPN+ subs and I'm 100% sure that if ESPN felt Greg Hardy on the first card was a problem they would've stopped it. ESPN has the authority and the say so here and yet here we are with him still on the card. Every organization has the same moral compass; they're all trying to sell you something. I had this conversation on the DojoTalkPodcast pertaining to the idea of asking forms of entertainment to handle issues they're ill-equipped to deal with---primarily because it collides with the end result of making money. Random guess that ESPN and the UFC had a meeting about it, the UFC said "We think he can generate X amount of interest" and so ESPN sucked it up and went with it. Greg Hardy is probably the second biggest story on this card for better or worse and to be honest if there's interest being driven? It's him. The show looks like it's on path to sell out so it's not like Greg Hardy is sending people away. Again all promotions are trying to make money here and if that means having to buddy up with a guy like Greg Hardy, that's what they'll do in the long run. If this truly irks you then understand that you have plenty of people to get mad at; not just the UFC here. All parties, all involved.  They all dug deep into this together and so here we are.

I object to the idea that Greg Hardy is getting a second chance. It's really more like a third chance and potentially even a fourth if we're being honest. Greg Hardy was talented enough at Ole Miss to be a 1st round pick and wound up going in the 6th round because teams had genuine concerns over his character and work ethic. That's chance one. Chance two came in Carolina where he worked himself up into a potential major payday and then he screwed himself over with the DV incident. In a sympathetic NFL, Hardy could've come back with a bigger long term payday had he just kept himself out of trouble in Dallas. As a Cowboys fan, I can tell you there were heavy rumblings toward the end of the year that he was toxic and divisive that the Cowboys were thinking of cutting him before December was out. Chance three. Hardy was essentially blackballed from the NFL despite his talent level and his response to this was to eventually get arrested for cocaine possession and other offenses. The UFC is not a second chance for Greg Hardy to earn big money. Maybe it's a second chance from a spiritual or personal perspective but I'm not even sure that fits either. Greg Hardy is what he is; a troubled yet talented individual who has historically not learned from his mistakes. To a fault, I'm really big on second chances and multiple chances for people because human beings are faulty machines who make mistakes and absolutely in my opinion capable of learning and improving. At the same time, I do not in any way shun people who don't believe this person is capable of fixing himself or making good on the repeated opportunities his talent allows. They have history on their side.

It's possible to A) feel as though Greg Hardy being on the same card as PVZ/Rachael Ostovich is tone deaf and B) be ultimately okay with is so long as Ostovich is okay with it. I wouldn't of done it, think it's borderline arrogant and invites unwanted controversy but if the person or people most likely to be impacted by it are fine with it then it's whatever I guess. This feels like a self inflicted wound from an organization that has enough scars from its own stubborness/arrogance.

HAVING SAID THAT, let's address a problem MMA has to find a way to correct and I suppose the same goes for combat sports as a whole. We totally need to find a way to get around the "I'm paying/watching to see you lose" aspect of things. Greg Hardy is here probably 50% in part that there's a bloodthirsty audience willing to wait and wait for the day when he eventually loses. It's that weird primal urge people have that feeds the not so good aspects of human nature. It also creates situations like this where people get mad about something, wait for what they feel is the karmic payoff and if it happens then it's this big pop. The problem is this isn't pro wrestling where we can script who wins and loses and so a bunch of folks who want that release get stifled and it turns ugly. I remember Rumble fights being like that; primarily because people who were so vehemently opposed to him would tune in or pay money to see him lose and then break down when he wouldn't. There's something really unhealthy about that aspect of combat sports and the longer it keeps working and promoters can manipulate it, the longer we're going to have to deal with all of this.

Feels pretty cop out-y to not say if I'm watching or not. I'll be watching on Saturday for a variety of reasons. The first is I promised Alex I'd cover just about every UFC card I could and to this date I think I've missed three; one for a power outage, one because I couldn't see after eye surgery and a third because I was sick (and even then I jumped in halfway through). I'm not going to let Greg Hardy force me to slack on what I said I'd do. I'll also be watching because it's a damn good card and I'm excited to see a lot of it. I also do, and I hate to tell people this knowing the response, think Greg Hardy is going to be a serious thing in this HW division when all is said and done. Will he be good enough to win a title? Probably not. I have SERIOUS doubts he stays out of trouble long enough to not even make it two years into the UFC. That said he's my Adrien Broner I guess; I wanna see how good he is before he capsizes himself. Lastly? This is combat sports. No form of entertainment outside of maybe the music industry forces people to separate artist from person so repeatedly. It often times asks us to stomach some pretty rough people in exchange for the violence they put into the cage or the ring. I've been on here for waaaaaaaaaay too long; long enough to have covered fights with people like Thiago Silva, Abel Trujillo, Rumble and so on so forth. I mean hell Floyd Mayweather Jr! Guys like Bernard Hopkins, Travis Browne, Jon Jones, Rumble Johnson all have their personal warts often displayed in the public's eye and yet we still watch their fights because....well we're addicted. Greg Hardy I guess isn't enough to get me to quit cold turkey on MMA.  Hell look at it this way, the alternative for Saturday if you're a combat sports fan is a battle between a guy who seems to get arrested once a year (Adrien Broner) and a guy who has some pretty comments on his record regarding gays and supports using the death penalty for drug offenders (Manny Pacquaio). We all have to make choices, especially in combat sports, about what our lines are or aren't. That's our jobs as consumers.

That said if there's one thing I can say that I hope will stick with everyone, it's that there's nobody wrong here outside of the people in question here. What YOU do as a fan one way or another is ultimately your business. If Greg Hardy offends you as a person then I have zeeero problem with you deciding to sit this show out. There are people I respect who will not be watching and I respect them for having that feeling. It's a totally acceptable feeling to have and no, you're not some SJW/soyboy/snowflake or whatever other terms MMA bros might throw your way. You have your line and I accept that and if anything, I appreciate you sticking to your convictions. Conversely I'd also ask that you not get pissy about people who ARE going to tune in and watch. Watching an MMA event with one dude on it who draws some serious visceral reactions due to his actions doesn't make you a supporter of domestic violence, a bad person or some kind of gooney bird unless you're actively rooting for Hardy DUE to his DV past. In that case, you probably are all those things. At the end of the day, we're all in charge of our own moral compass. Watch if you wish, feel how you feel, just don't hurt your cause by being an asshole about it.

[an-ephemeral-blog]

Linkspam #7

Top Links

Debunking the Capitalist Cowboy by Nan Estad at Boston Review:

Business schools fetishize entrepreneurial innovation, but their most prominent heroes succeeded because they manipulated corporate law, not because of personal brilliance.

Capitalism, like the United States itself, has a mythology, and for five decades one of its central characters has been the nineteenth-century maverick cigarette entrepreneur, James B. Duke. Duke’s risk-taking investment in the newfangled machine-made cigarette, so the story goes, displaced the pricey, hand-rolled variety offered by his stodgy competitors. This, in turn, won Duke control of the national, and soon global, cigarette market. Repeated ad nauseam in business and history journals, high school and university curricula, popular magazines, and websites, the story has taught that disruptive innovation drives capitalist progress.

The problem? The Duke story is false: mid-century business historians fabricated it to accord with the theory of creative destruction, developed by libertarian economist Joseph Schumpeter. For generations, we have learned from this myth to fetishize entrepreneurial innovation as the engine of capitalism, while missing Duke’s instrumental role in rampant corporate empowerment.

Air Pods Are a Tragedy by Caroline Haskins at Vice:

Even if you only own AirPods for a few years, the earth owns them forever. When you die, your bones will decompose in less than a century, but the plastic shell of AirPods won’t decompose for at least a millennium. Thousands of years in the future, if human life or sentient beings exist on earth, maybe archaeologists will find AirPods in the forgotten corners of homes. They’ll probably wonder why they were ever made, and why so many people bought them. But we can also ask ourselves those same questions right now.

The Cis White Gay Man at a Crossroads by Tim Murphy at Into:

To ally oneself with power and privilege after historically having one’s own inherent gender and racial privilege compromised because of one’s sexuality is extremely seductive. It’s also uncomfortable, to say the least, to know that your new bros are perpetuating cruelties that you know in your gut to be real because, especially if you are an older gay man, you remember such cruelties to the point that your voice rises and breaks when you allude to them.

It can be so uncomfortable that, in the next breath, you deny their authenticity. People who feel vulnerable and unsafe, you say, enjoy playing the victim. Your new status in the world depends on not connecting your own former, or fleeting, suffering to theirs.

Privileged by Kyle Korver at the Player’s Tribune:

When the police break your teammate’s leg, you’d think it would wake you up a little.

When they arrest him on a New York street, throw him in jail for the night, and leave him with a season-ending injury, you’d think it would sink in. You’d think you’d know there was more to the story.

You’d think.

But nope.

Women suffer needless pain because almost everything is designed for men by Sigal Samuel, interviewing Caroline Criado Perez, for Vox:

Sigal Samuel: Can you give an example of a drug that’s been found to be less effective for women?

Caroline Criado Perez:  The most shocking one was a heart medication that was meant to prevent heart attacks but at a certain point in a woman’s menstrual cycle is actually more likely to trigger a heart attack. That has to do with the problem of not testing the drug on women at different stages of their menstrual cycle, because you [the researcher] say, “Oh, that’s too complicated and too expensive.” You’re basically saying, “I would rather let women die than have to do a complicated test.”

It Wasn’t Just the Trolls: Early Internet Culture, “Fun,” and the Fires of Exclusionary Laughter by Whitney Philips in Social Media + Society:

Very quickly, I realized that many of the young reporters who initially helped amplify the white nationalist “alt right” by pointing and laughing at them, had all come up in and around internet culture-type circles. They may not have been trolls themselves, but their familiarity with trolling subculture, and experience with precisely the kind of discordant swirl featured in the aforementioned early-2000s image dump, perfectly prepped them for pro-Trump shitposting. They knew what this was. This was just trolls being trolls. This was just 4chan being 4chan. This was just the internet. Those Swastikas didn’t mean anything. They recognized the clothes the wolf was wearing, I argued, and so they didn’t recognize the wolf.

This was how the wolf operated: by exploiting the fact that so many (white) people have been trained not to take the things that happen on the internet very seriously. They operated by laundering hate into the mainstream through “ironically” racist memes, then using all that laughter as a radicalization and recruitment tool.

Other Favorites

Science

Going Critical by Kevin Simler at Melting Asphalt - cool interactive post about criticality in networks

I Got Tenure, But Science is Still Broken by Ryan Abernathey at Medium

From sick role to practices of health and illness by Arthur W Frank in the journal Medical Education

Technology

Google Is Eating Our Mail by Tomaž ��olc at Avian’s Blog - what happens when a private company gets to decide what email is worth receiving

Coding Is For Everyone - As Long As You Speak English by Gretchen McCullough at Wired

YouTube Disabled Comments On Livestreams Of A Congressional Hearing On White Nationalism Because They Were Too Hateful by Ryan Broderick at Buzzfeed News - “Tuesday's hearing was meant to examine the rise of white nationalism and white supremacy and the role social media plays in its spread. Then the comments got hijacked.”

Thinking through ACL-aware data processing by Lea Kissner at the The International Association of Privacy Professionals “Privacy Tech” blog

A Conspiracy To Kill IE6 by Chris Zacharias at their personal blog

History

Liberalism and Jewish Emancipation by Mark Koyama at Liberal Currents - how Jews became full citizens of England

Politics

Is Josh Hawley For Real? by Alexander Zaitchik at the New Republic - A terrifying analysis of the “post-liberal” movement.  “Stated simply, the post-liberals reject universal reason as a basis for laws and government. They mourn the institutions, values, and hierarchies that secular rationalism has laid to waste in the name of progress.”

The families funding the 2016 presidential election by the New York Times

Identity politics strengthens democracy by Stacy Abrams in Foreign Affairs

Misc

How to Draw a Horse by Emma Hunsinger in the New Yorker

My Cousin Was My Hero. Until the Day He Tried to Kill Me. by Wil S Hylton at the New York Times

The Untold Story of the Ermahgerd Girl by Darryn King at Vanity Fair

Stoicism’s Appeal to the Rich and Powerful by Ada Palmer at Ex Urbe

What If A City Decides It Can Live Without A Freeway? by Nathanael Johnson - “Inside the push to tear down an Oakland freeway”

Put down the self-help books. Resilience is not a DIY endeavour by Michael Ungar at the Globe and Mail

What Could Have Been by Sophia Steinert-Evoy at Jewish Currents - “I realized: I was watching two Jewish American millennials sing about the crisis of Jewish identity created by the State of Israel on a nationally syndicated television show. But in its subtlety, the performance doesn’t make a statement so much as it opens a line of questioning—starting with What could have been? and leading, perhaps, to: How do we move forward?”

[jamessiimon]

Nabbit, Boof or Mushy, Madz or Moo. You’re still Jack and Mady to me.

With my decision to leave my home country to pursue my career came an enormous amount of emotions. Excitement for the adventure, nervousness for the unknown, confidence and courage even if it was faked and of course sadness, remorse and loneliness as I left everything to find my everything. But these were just my emotions.

When I first said my goodbyes and crossed into the unknown territory of the international departure lounge, I found myself in a tsunami of emotions, my own emotions and it was not until I returned months later that I understood my decision affected more than just me, but also my close friends, family and colleagues and to a degree that I didn’t even realise.

I have a very close bond with my family. My brother, sister and I (or I should say me and either one of them) rarely fought, we were always together and with the signatures on the divorce certificate of our parent they became more than just my bro and sis. It was so eloquently put by my Nonno (grandfather) “you are now the man of the house and they are now your responsibility. Your brother, your sister but most of all your mother” and from that day as he declared they were my, responsibility.

We grew up in a crazy family of five in the south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne, Australia. My brother and I were always considered twins from people even though we had eighteen months difference in age; we were the same height, were about the same size, wore the same clothes and did everything together. When I was five my parents enrolled me into Auskick, just as many four-year-old children are. Auskick is the Saturday morning activity for kids to practise and learn the rules of AFL, Australian Football League. Four year old me was not very interested in football but my two an a half year old brother was crazy about it, pity you had to be turning five within the year to enrol. So on the second Saturday of April, a few days after my brothers third birthday the family all go to the football ground to see my first day at Auskick. Two things happened that day; one, my parents realised that their son maybe gay and two, my brother got a birthday present he was obsessed by. Five year old me instead of wanting to kick and catch the odd shaped ball and tackle the other children to the ground for it was too busy doing cartwheels and making daisy chains. Never the less the next Saturday morning the person the coach thought was Simon looked slightly different and went from a distracted pansy to a focussed participant. For two years “Simon” was a eager player that showed some potential, until he disappeared and his younger brother came along who looked very similar if not identical.

As we were so close we did everything together, we were hardly inside, always on our BMXs riding through the mountains or to the lake or anywhere we imagined to go. The only rule, be back before dark, a feat that brought on more stress than the final exams at school. I remember one time being at the park hitting golf balls around trying to see who could hit them the furthest and most accurate. I thought at one moment that he had hit me with one of his balls and turned around to find him behind with his ball in hand, again and again we were hit. Turns out it was a freak hail storm that destroyed houses and cars, and there we were in singlets and short trying to not be knocked out in the middle of the park. He was the brawn and I the brains and we were always up to something. We used our motorbike like a boat and ‘ski” behind it in the grass destroying the brand new jeans that mother had just purchased, try to spear on another with a length of electrical pipe while riding home on our bikes or build ramps that were technically not safe to jump with scooters, bike or toy car.

All of these ‘adventures’ came with a risk of injury, but that was just part of it. We used to tell our parents while they towed us on the biscuit behind that boat (its like a inflatable doughnut but flat like a mattress) to try their hardest to throw us off. One time with a freak wave from another boat my cousin, brother and I were thrown 2-3m in the air, I was catapulted so high that I had a moment to look at my cousin who was higher than me trying to swim in the open air. As I descended I landed on my brother and we broke the towrope as he thought he had broken his arm. There was also the time that while playing in the long grass in the spare lot next to our house my brother decided that his entry would consist of a belly flop. Little to his knowledge the builders of our extension had dumped their extra concrete in the lot. Nine stitches and a knee flap of skin exposing his patella later gave my brother the life lesson of look before you leap.

My brother is as stubborn as my mother so much so that if he wants to do something he will. No matter the danger or how many warnings from other people he may hear, it is in one ear and out of the other as he hurdles towards his goal. This stubbornness lead to a scooter accident causing him a broken arm, no bother to my brother as it turns out, it could be used in cricket to create a foul from the bowler and extra points (I don’t know the reason) and this only surfaced after the third time in a month my mother returned to the hospital to replace his cast. This stubbornness also sent him to the emergency department for reconstructive surgery to his skull. My brother and I were taking it in turns to shower (as you do when you’re young) while my mother got our two-year-old sister ready for bed. He was in the shower and I, waiting for my turn to hop in, was walking along the baths edge. He finished showering and with a “what ever you can do I can do better” attitude. He also walked along the side of the bath the only difference being that I was dry while doing it. He slips, hits his head on the porcelain soap holder, cracking his skull causing a 5 cm hole and severing a main artery. I have never seen so much blood and have never screamed so loud for help!

My sister was also stubborn and with an attitude of “I don’t need to listen as I know everything”. This attitude and two older brothers allowed her to have experienced life in a “keep up or don’t play” way. After not listening to me and my cousins warnings of the monkey bars being slippery as it was wet, she fell and broke her arm, which she was not allowed to tell mum as we were worried to get in trouble and it was her fault. Three hours later we told them what had happened and she went to hospital. She has been accidently hit with basketballs, golf clubs, cricket bat, clumps of grass with dirt attached and bikes due to her inability to listen. She has thrown her shoes into creeks, completely fallen into rivers and has been used as a human umbrella to stop my brother and I becoming wet in a downpour of rain. She has rode her bike through puddles that were over a metre deep, has sun stroke almost every summer that I can remember and is as blonde as barbie. But none of this will change the fact that she is our younger sister.

One of the hardest and scariest things that I have had to say to them is that “I am gay”. I was not so nervous to tell my mother and stepfather, as I knew their reaction would be a supportive one and my sister was excited to go shopping with her gay brother. My brother on the other hand frightened me so much that it took me two days after telling the other members of the family to build the courage to tell him. He was playing video games in his room with his girlfriend laying next to him as I walked in asking him to talk about something.

“yeah, yeah, after this round”

“no I really need to tell you something”

“yeah, ok, wait!”

then his girlfriend (at the time) got up and turns off the TV, “your brother needs to talk with you”

“what?”

And I am standing in the doorway thinking I can just say nothing and run away…

“I have met someone and I kind of like them… But that someone is not a girl”

I paused for a slight moment to remember all the good times that we have had together before the words left my mouth just in case it changed everything…

“Jack, I am gay”

I shut my eyes as its always less scary when your eyes are shut…

“But you’re still my brother aren’t you? And nothing changes between us?”

“no of course not”

“Than why did you have to turn off the game? It is live player and you cannot pause it!”

My mother is my rock as I am hers. She is a lady that will and has always given everything to her kids even if she couldn’t afford to, much of this going unnoticed by many but not me, I know it mother. She has been through a lot in her life and is always head held high and strong no matter the life challenge. But let me shy away from the bad moments and remember the better. The time that she nominated herself to be guardian of a group of my friends in primary school during a trip to the zoo leaving the kids to run wild in the walk through bird cage as she was afraid of birds. I think we were there for 30mins until another group came and the guardian could collect all the children and my mother to walk through the cage. She has taught me the importance of respect, to drive, to believe in myself, how to overcome any situation and the skill of eating chicken nuggets with dipping sauce while driving a manual 4WD as she sees it as a “handy life” skill. She taught me the way to create the perfect cock-sucking cowboy shot and after 11 rounds how to draw the Olympic rings. We have had long chats with red wine leading to a surprise Ab-Circle pro to be delivered two weeks later, we have shopped until we couldn’t walk anymore, have been to a cigar lounge to sample whisky (my brothers idea) and ran out of a dodgy taxi without paying. She has raised three amazing children and I am proud to call her mother.

When I was 16 going on 17 a special man walked into my mother’s world and fixed something that now will remain forever his. This man allowed me to take back apart of my adolescence he took some of my responsibility of supporting my family and with this took a part of the weight that was on my shoulders. I was for a long time unable to accept this as it was not his responsibility but he ensured me that he meant no harm and by doing so allowed me to be an actual 17 year old again. He walked into a broken family filled with hormonal teenagers and was “not going to leave no matter the situation as he loved my mother”. Walking her down the aisle to the man that has her heart, words cannot describe that feeling.

My family has been through a lot but throughout everything the only thing we have remained is a strong entity, a family. I am sorry in a way that my life goals have hurt some close friends and my family. But in another way I am not. Without their support, my adventure would have been impossible. I believe in myself but when I don’t you’re there. I will fix any situation that may arise, but if I need you, you’re there. I am 17,000km away but with a call you’re there. I miss you and I know you miss me but think of the adventure you’ll have when you’re here!

I guess what I am trying to say with all this is we are family we have been and always will be no matter where we are in our life or in the world. I love you and miss you. But most of all I need to say Mum, Tino, Jack, Mady and all of my supporters, Thank you.