#full text below the read more! if you can open the link do bc it has translator pictures

[wizardysseus]

June 28, 2023

There are as many ways of translating a literary text as there are translators. The act of carrying a work from one language to another — an art as much as a craft — is anything but mechanical: Translators’ choices are informed by their sensibilities, their emotional landscape, their background.

Literary translators have, however, historically received little recognition. Readers who love books that were rendered in their words often haven’t known their names, since they were not featured on the covers. Within publishing, they were frequently underpaid and given no rights or royalties for their work.

Efforts by translators and by organizations like PEN America, which recently issued a manifesto on literary translation, have brought the field greater visibility, helping to cement the rights of translators and to raise awareness of literary translation as a creative art in its own right.

For a frank discussion of the state of translation, The Times gathered a group of recognized translators:

Samantha Schnee, a translator from Spanish, is the founding editor of Words Without Borders, a digital literary magazine of international literature in English.

Allison Markin Powell, a translator from Japanese, also represents the PEN America Translation Committee on the organization’s board of trustees.

Jeremy Tiang, originally from Singapore, translates from Chinese and is also a novelist and playwright.

Mui Poopoksakul is a Thailand-born lawyer turned literary translator.

Bruna Dantas Lobato, originally from Brazil, is a literary translator from Portuguese and a writer.

This conversation has been edited for concision and clarity.

JULIANA BARBASSA: Over 50 years ago, at the first World of Translation Conference organized by PEN, Isaac Bashevis Singer said: “Translation must become not only an honorable profession, but an art. While I don’t like bloody revolutions, I would love to see a translators’ revolution.” He went on to say of translators that “in all of literature they have been the pariahs,” and to call on the conference to be “the beginning of a rebellion where ink instead of blood will be shed.”

What revolution was he alluding to there, and how much has been accomplished in the years since?

SAMANTHA SCHNEE: There are two ways to answer that question. One, translators' rights is something I think Singer was referring to. But I also think that the translator’s role as a conduit for literature in translation is equally important. To the first issue, I would say a lot of progress has been made in the last 50 years. It was the case that translators routinely were expected to grant copyright in perpetuity for their translations.

Famously, [Gregory] Rabassa’s translation of [Gabriel] García Márquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude” was a copyright grant, which really ignores the role of the translator as a creative aspect of the work. No two translators would ever create the same translation from the same text. So I think progress has been made in areas like that.

But I think we have a lot of progress yet to go. For example, the way I see the role of a translator today is very much as a curator. Translators are much more active in the market now: Translators are acting as scouts, in many cases acting as agents. Almost always those roles go unpaid.

I do think translators have a lot more power than certainly 50 years ago, and I would argue even 20 years ago. Translators need to keep fighting to keep those issues at the forefront.

We as an Anglophone culture are mass exporters of all sorts of culture, and we are not importing even a fraction of that. Translators play a really critical role in helping to counteract that.

BRUNA DANTAS LOBATO: In addition to wanting fair pay, wanting our art to be recognized, our names on the covers of books, I also would like to see a push away from this very academic sentiment that comes out of comp lit departments: that it’s some white person from this culture who goes into another culture and imports these artifacts.

There is this sense that it’s a transaction, and it’s one-directional. It feels like a very anthropological impulse from maybe a couple of centuries ago. I would like instead to have more of a conversation.

JEREMY TIANG: In the English-speaking world, we are enthralled with the idea of the single author. And so conversations around translations either focus entirely on the original author, rendering the translator subservient, or else talk about the translator as if the only way the translator could have agency is to go completely rogue, disregard all notions of faithfulness and assert their own version of the book at the expense of the original. The idea that translation is a collaborative process, that the author and the translator are building something together, doesn’t really get as much airtime as I would like.

BRUNA: It’s a question of authorship, right? It’s an opportunity to hold translators accountable for the work that we do. If I don’t even know who did this, how am I going to evaluate or ask the right questions?

The other thing is that the translator as author brings so much personal baggage into the work. We can’t translate outside of ourselves. I definitely use my experiences both as a writer — my knowledge of craft — and my experiences as a reader, in everything that I translate. I also bring my emotional experiences.

It means that I won’t bring unexamined biases into the work. It means that I have an opportunity to be in genuine dialogue with the work. All of that is impossible if I am erased, my identities are erased, my experiences are erased.

ALLISON MARKIN POWELL: What a translator brings to the work of doing the translation, we also bring to the works that we’re inspired to translate. Historically that was very much a white male academic’s perspective.

I’m part of a collective called Strong Women Soft Power that promotes Japanese women writers in translation. When we formed it I started looking at the numbers — who was being translated. Despite my perception that there were a lot of Japanese women writers being translated, that was actually not the case. That led me to look at what the landscape was like in Japan. And in Japan it was a much more balanced environment between male and female writers. And that wasn’t being accurately reflected in English translation.

JEREMY: I want to mention the unevenness of the playing field, which might not be apparent to people outside of the translation world.

Someone working from, say, German could quite feasibly, if they were sufficiently established, make a living simply by waiting for publishers to come to them with German books to translate. Whereas with less represented languages or regions, the translator often has to advocate for the book or it doesn’t get translated at all. Thai literature in English translation pretty much wouldn’t exist if Mui weren’t finding these books and putting them in front of publishers.

MUI POOPOKSAKUL: That plays into two points, like what Sam said earlier about the unpaid labor of translation. When I work on a book project, I follow it from start to finish. I read the books, I pick the books, I pitch the books, I translate the samples — initially I was never paid for samples. That is a real barrier to entry for a lot of people.

In terms of who gets to translate, I’m really excited by this movement to give more opportunities to heritage language speakers, translators from the countries of the literature that they’re translating from. This will really broaden the landscape of what becomes available in English.

JULIANA: Have you seen a shaping of what books are available in English because of this advocacy by translators?

SAMANTHA: Absolutely. If you think of publishing as an ecosystem, the translators are like the seed spreaders. We’re diversifying that ecosystem. There’s a fixed number of editors out there; they will have certain sensibilities and they will be limited by the market in the choices they can make. When you work with translators, you have whole other worlds opened up to you.

JEREMY: The translator is often the only person who can see both sides. The source language country might have rights agents doing good work, but they don’t know the English-language publishing world as well. The Anglophone world has well-meaning publishers who would love to do more translation, but they have no way of knowing the source language landscape. And apart from basically a few large Western European cultures which are well resourced with book scouts, in general, the translator is often the only person with a clear view of both sides.

ALLISON: If a book from a language that you work from becomes successful, do you feel like that starts to color readers’ or editors’ expectations? In Japan this has been called the [Haruki] Murakami effect. Do you have that experience?

BRUNA: I definitely have that experience a lot. I was recently advocating for a book called “The Dark Side of the Skin,” about racism and police brutality in Brazil, by Jeferson Tenório. Some of the readers evaluating it for interested editors said, “I don’t know if this is the one book about racism in Brazil that we should read. There are others that are very good.”

There’s this implication of simplicity, that if I read this one thing — I mean, how much can there really be to that culture? I’m done, you know?

JULIANA: Is there still a sense from publishers that, Oh, we have our India book for the year, we have our Japanese book for the year?

JEREMY: I’ve noticed both a kind of tokenism and a kind of herding. So I’ve had, “We have our Chinese book for the year.” But I’ve also had, during the dominance of “The Three-Body Problem,” publishers saying, “We want as much Chinese science fiction as we can get our hands on.” In both cases it’s treating books as interchangeable commodities rather than individual pieces of art that you consider on their own merits. I will say that there are more and more enlightened publishers who are able to see beyond that these days.

MUI: I haven’t had that experience, but I always fear it. After my first book, which was billed as the first Thai translation published in Britain outside of an academic press, it was like, well, are they going to want another one? I worried about that.

JULIANA: One thing I find striking is that with literature in translation, what exists in English is shaped by specific factors that are not visible to readers. Some countries, for example, fund translations from their language.

BRUNA: Publishers have such a limited budget. I’ve been really interested in books that editors said they couldn’t buy. So they will pass on it, and then instead buy a Scandinavian book or a Korean book because it got a lot of funding and they won’t have to pay out of pocket.

MUI: The playing field is definitely not level. There is some good work being done out of Anglophone countries in terms of grants, but they’re hard to come by because you’re competing with translators and translations from every language. I’ve applied for funding from Thailand a couple of times, but I have not received funding from the Thai government.

ALLISON: Despite the fact that Japanese ranks relatively high on the number of works in translation, there is actually relatively little subsidy available. None of the books that I’ve translated, or almost none of the books have really received any subsidies.

SAMANTHA: The funding tends to be quite Eurocentric, and that does have significant impact on what readers in English are offered. It’s pretty dramatic if you look at the countries that are really investing in cultural exportation.

That’s not to say that there aren’t great European writers who are worthy of being translated. There certainly are. But there are in Africa, in Asia, in Latin America as well.

ALLISON: Going back to the actual work of translation, there are a lot of interesting conversations right now about who the imagined reader is, and whether a translation should be smooth or challenging.

JEREMY: My imagined reader is myself. I translate books that I want to put out in the world because they aren’t there for me to read. And I also translate because of the process. Just as, you know, actors go after a part because it’s a great part for them and they want the experience of performing it.

BRUNA: I expect from the reader a minimum amount of curiosity, and also a bit of an ear. I want the reader to pay attention to the language, and to what I might bring from Portuguese into English. I hope they’ll get used to different voices and different accents, and appreciate all the value that’s in there. All the beauty and the language-play that’s in there, as opposed to wanting an experience that’s just going to reaffirm what they already know, who they already are.

SAMANTHA: My ideal reader is the author. I much prefer to work with an author who’s living, with whom I can have a dialogue. I’ve learned so much — not only about language, but also about the topics that the authors’ books are dealing with.

MUI: The reader I fear is the Thai reader, because they are more likely to be able to re-engineer my process. I teach at a university in Thailand, so I have students who read my translations side by side with the original. They are always sort of on one shoulder, being like, “Stay true, Mui, stay true.”

JULIANA: What brought you to this field?

MUI: Translation is just great fun, you know? The latest PEN translation manifesto emphasized how translation is a form of writing, and that for me is so true.

ALLISON: Translation is an extremely creative practice. It suits my aesthetic of creativity well. I don’t write my own work; I write translation. Working with an existing text in another language is just having different clay to mold with.

BRUNA: As a writer, I often felt like the best way for me to study any work was by translating it. It feels to my particular practice like those two are in dialogue.

But also as a person, the way I exist in the world — when I found myself as a Brazilian national in New England, suddenly my language wasn’t a part of my daily life. Translation was a way for me to put my Brazilian side and my American life in conversation, and to feel whole. So for me translation is very much a part of being truthful to who I am.

JEREMY: I grew up bilingual, biracial, I’m an immigrant, and translation is one of the few things that allow me the fluidity to explore all the areas of who I am, and not have to choose one identity or another.

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.

[lonelyreputation]

Trouble in Canada • TWO

A/N: Thanks for your patience & thanks for all your support 🥰 Only 3 months late with this 🥴 Can’t believe I’m posting TiC2 AGAIN wow I’ll forever love this series bc of you all 🤧🤧

THANKS A MILLION A MILLION FOR ALL YOUR KIND WORDS!! I love you all with all my heart 🥺🤧

TROUBLE IN CANADA PT. 1 | MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: Arguing, angst, few swear words here and there

WC: 10.1K // Angst

“We need to talk.”

The cup of tea you held slipped through your hands and shattered.

Normally when a glass shattered in your apartment, Shawn would always rush forward.  He would always push you back, no walking around without shoes, he would say out of care as he kneeled down to pick up the minuscule shards of glass, don’t want you getting glass stuck in your foot.

But the two of you just stood there, looking at each other with different emotions swimming in your eyes, as the ceramic mug lay destroyed at your feet.

You had never seen your husband lack emotion in his eyes.  His eyes were always your favorite aspect of him, they were one of the first things about him that you fell in love with.  His eyes that normally held love, care, and compassion were now dark, empty, and held a hint of anger.

While his eyes held negativity, you felt the back of your eyes prick with tears, throat tight with sadness.  But you were looking at him with eyes wide of desperation––full of questioning and heartbreak–––because why on earth wasn’t he wearing his wedding ring.

You knelt to the ground, getting to work on picking up the broken mug, because you didn’t want him getting glass stuck in his foot.  It felt as if you were getting a glimpse into how this conversation with your husband was going to go; you trying to pick up the remnants of your heart that you could already feel breaking.

Once you got the small pieces together, you walked over to the trash can with Shawn’s eyes following you with every move.  You brushed the pieces in the bin and took the broom from the closet to dispose of the larger breaks.  You held eye contact with him as you walked back out into the entry area of your apartment.

His eyes trailed your every movement with skepticism, like he didn’t trust you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your emotions at bay, as the broken pieces of the mug made a clanking noise when you swept them together.  You looked up at Shawn through your eyelashes and saw his eyebrows pulled together as if he was thinking of what to say.  

Frankly, you didn’t think you were able to say anything.  He was the one who said that the two of you needed to talk, you had no idea what you wanted to talk about. You figured that you would be listening to more of his side of the conversation than talking.

When did he take off his wedding ring?

“That was the mug I got for you on our second Valentine’s Day together,” his words were only slightly louder than the broken pieces falling into the bin, his voice cracked, “And you––you’re throwing it away?”

You stopped dumping the glass pieces into the trash, and looked up at him with sad, questioning eyes, “It’s…broken?”

Placing the dustpan on the counter, you walked out from the kitchen and stood in front of Shawn, and for the first time since before you started dating all those years ago, you didn’t know what to say.

“Are you not even going to try and fix it?!”

The pain behind his voice sounded like he was talking about so much more than a broken mug.

Cautiously, you took a step forward, eyes glancing down at his bare hand, then stared into his fuming eyes, “Why…” You gulped, eyes returning down to where his wedding ring should be.

Why was he not wearing his wedding ring?

In theory, the question shouldn’t be a hard one to ask him.  He was your husband, there were no secrets between the two of you in the decade you’ve known each other.  There were no secrets between the two of you as you slept next to each other at night, his arm thrown around you to keep you safe; there were never any secrets.

But now? Now you didn’t know.  You didn’t know the words to string together in order to ask him why he took off the ring you slid on his finger the day you promised to love each other for eternity.  

The nausea built up in your stomach slowly, bile churning with each thought that passed through your mind.    

What made him not want to wake up with you every morning?

Nothing was settling right in your stomach.  Nothing about this was a case of, oh, sorry I forgot to return your calls I was too busy.  He had dodged your calls, purposefully avoided you––his wife––and now he was standing in the middle of your home not wearing his ring.

Your house didn’t feel like much of a home anymore.

For a moment you pushed your doubts aside.  You tried not to focus on the pain in your heart as you shifted your focus on something else you needed to discuss with Shawn; your cooking instructor.  

The thought of Ethan had been weighing down on your mind ever since your last lesson.  You lightly touched your wrist, remembering the way his hand tightly circled around your wrist that day.  The glower of possessiveness he held in his eyes when he looked at you caused you to shudder at the memory.  The feeling of embarrassment flooded your entire body as the phantom pain of hot oils dripping down your back as the whole class stood and watched.

You wished you had confided in Shawn about the uncomfortable actions Ethan demonstrated during each lesson.  

Pushing your crumbling heart to the back of your mind you took a deep breath, anxiety crawling up your throat, “I need to––um––I want to tell you something.”

Feeling nervous in front of your husband wasn’t uncommon. Everyday you had spent with him felt like the day of your first date; on your toes, giddy about what the rest of the day would bring––excited to spend the day with him.  It’s what made you fall in love with him at a rapid pace.  But while you were accustomed to the affect of your heart skipping a beat whenever you were around him, this was a different kind of nervousness.

This nervousness felt more like knowingly walking into a trap instead of a blissful evening with your husband.

With another deep breath, you looked down at your sock clad feet, not wanting to see his reaction, “There was um––Something happened when you were on tour–––”

“Can’t even look me in the fucking eyes when you say it?”

You whipped your head up, eyes wide, and for the first time you were frightened of your husband.  His tone was lethal, words sharp, as his jaw was set, “I would’ve thought you could at least do that when you tell me––”

You took a step backward, “Tell you what?”

For a second the animosity he held in his eyes fell and was replaced with desperation, “Don’t,” his voice cracked for the second time as he sniffled, “Don’t make me say it.”

While you felt your heartbreak at the hopelessness in his tone, he sounded exactly how you felt on the inside.

“Shawn,” you said his name carefully, afraid that if you said one wrong word he would explode like a time bomb, “I––I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He let out a scoff, “Okay, then,” he crossed his arms over his chest and sent you a glare so strong it felt like you were slammed into the wall behind you, “Go on.”

You knew this was something important you had to share with him.  He’s your husband, you thought to yourself, he’s here to protect you––to keep you safe––you should tell him.  But everything about him seemed off.  His stance was guarded, arms stiffly crossed over his chest, as he coldly stared at you.  

“Um, well,” you nervously twisted your sweaty hands together in front of you, “When you were on tour there was this…guy,” you shuddered at the thought of Ethan, ‘And he––There was a situation––”

“Just fucking say it,” He sounded tired, but his words were still powerful, “Fucking say it and then we can be done.”

His words felt like a dagger piercing your chest.  All of the oxygen left your lungs as you were left breathless, hand pressed against your chest to shield you in any way from his dismissive tone, “What?” You gasped out, “Be done with what?”

“You know.”

“I don’t––”

“You,” his hand reached into his over the shoulder travel bag and pulled out a magazine, “Know.” His voice was laced with venom as he threw the magazine at the floor in front of you, “You fucking know.”

Gently, you bent down and picked up the edgeworn magazine, and it automatically opened up to an article.  The pages looked crinkled as if someone had read these pages until they had the words memorized. The top right edge of the glossy paper looked like it had been folded over repeatedly. And you didn’t miss the tear stains that smudged some of the inked words.

You read the bold headline––Trouble In Canada–-over a few times before your eyes darted around the two page spread that contained an article and blurry pictures of you with Ethan; specifically on the last day of class where you were pressed up against him.  The angle of the picture made you look guilty of an act that you never thought of committing against your husband.  Your breath, along with your heart, stopped beating as you glanced up at Shawn before skimming the article.

He misses Y/n––Below, pictures of Y/n and a mystery man have appeared––Everyone around him knows how much he loves his wife––Noticable changed––It’s not going to end well.

It’s not going to end well.

You clenched the magazine in your hand, “Who’s the source?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?!” Shawn let out a laugh, “Not that I had to find out through my mother texting me a link to an article about how my wife was having an affair?!”

Your eyes widened as the magazine dropped to the ground.  

An affair.  He thought you had an affair.

Your eyes darted back to Shawn’s hands.  He nervously rubbed his thumb along the underside of the finger where his wedding band used to take up space.  He thought you were having an affair with a person who made your skin crawl.

“Who––”

“Does it matter?!” He threw his hands up as he yelled before his voice quieted down, repeating the question under his breath, “Does it matter?”

You shook your head rapidly as you walked forward, wanting to reassure him that the article had it all wrong, “Shawn, that’s not––It’s a shitty tabloid, Ethan isn’t––”

“Don’t,” You stopped walking forward and started walking backward as Shawn angrily pointed a finger at you, words laced with malice, “Say his name.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, chest heaving up and down as your worst nightmare was slowly starting to become a reality, “He’s not––That isn’t––Those pictures are not what it looks like.”

“They seem pretty self-explanatory,” His voice fell in sadness, “I would wait hours to call you––”

“Shawn, listen––”

“Hours,” he cut you off, bottom lip quivering, “to hear about your day.  I would wait hours to hear your voice calm me down because touring is stressful and you were the only person who was capable of calming me down––”

“Were?”

“––Only to find out that you’ve been running around with someone else!”

“You stopped picking up my calls!” Your voice was pleading with him, “I stayed up for hours at night wondering what I did––”

“You were having an affair!” He matched the volume of your yells, “Why would I want to talk to you?!”

He wasn’t listening to you.  It seemed as if he was so caught up in the narrative he created in his head that he didn’t want to listen to you.  He thought it was better to believe the heartbreak of you running into another person’s arms while he was the one who was left in the dust.

“Were you that lonely,” Shawn narrowed his eyes, voice gravelly low, “That you went to someone else? Christ––We have the money that you could’ve used to come out and see me! Or have you had enough of me?”

“Do you even hear yourself––”

“Was being married to me too much?” He let out a sarcastic laugh, “After years together, you can’t even handle a single year of marriage. What ever happened to for better or for worse––”

“I didn’t have an affair!”

You stomped your foot on the ground as if you were a little girl throwing a tantrum.  Your voice was high, throat scratchy from trying to hold back your tears as Shawn threw countless accusations your way.  But when Shawn accused you of making a mockery of your wedding vows to him, that’s when he crossed the line.

The room was silent, your words ringing through the apartment just as loud as the ringing in your ears.  Shawn looked shocked, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide at your outburst.  Never once had you screamed about something so desperately.  But this was your marriage.  This was your marriage to the person you thought would love and trust you until the end of your life.  And you thought he would love and trust you until the end of his life.

“I didn’t,” your bottom lip trembled as you sucked in a breath, a few tears leaking from your eyes, “I would never,” you hastily wiped away the falling tears on your cheek with the heel of your palm, “Do you honestly think that little of me?”

Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  His cruel words still floated around in the air.  After all the love songs he wrote about you not once did you think he was capable of saying words as degrading as the ones he yelled at your face.

“That guy,” you closed your eyes and brought your hands up to your forehead, trying to subdue the raging pain in your forehead from all the yelling, “Was the cooking instructor Jessie and I had for our cooking lessons.”

“I don’t want to know––”

“He,” you cut Shawn off before he could find another way to belittle your feelings, “Wasn’t very…helpful as a teacher.” You bit the inside of your cheek, mirroring Shawn’s position and crossing your arms across your chest as you bounced your leg, “Sometimes he would––”

“God,” the pain in Shawn’s voice struck a chord with you, “Do you really think I want to know what you two did together?!”

You stood there frozen, not being able to wrap your head around the situation you found yourself in with Shawn, as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes with opposite emotions.  

Your eyes were wide as they overflowed with desperation, terrified that your marriage was about to come to an end; they poured over with hurt from the devastating allegations Shawn proposed.

Shawn’s eyes were narrowed at you as they seethed with aggression, on the edge of becoming unhinged at the thought of someone stealing the love of his life right under his nose; they overflowed with untrust.  

But both of your eyes were both filled to the brim with love, not understanding how the person they vowed to love and to treasure for the rest of their lives, could hurt the other so viciously and carelessly.

“He––I’m your wife, Shawn,” you choked on a sob, “I’m your wife and you’re not listening to me!”

“You haven’t said anything!” His eyes were red as he cried right back at you.

“How am I supposed to tell my husband that another man made me feel uncomfortable when he’s accusing me of sleeping with them?!”

Shawn looked like he had more hatred to spew planned out in his head, but once the truth to your story came out, he was at a loss for words.  His shoulders dropped as fast as his face and an audible noise escaped his throat.  

A new wave of tears threatened to spill over as he looked at you, “That’s––What did––What?”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head as your eyes refocused on the lack of his wedding band on his finger.  You toyed with the diamond of your engagement ring, “But apparently I had an affair.”

Since the first time he had come back, Shawn was silent.  He was as silent as the moment he walked through the door and said words that shattered your world; we need to talk.  

He was as silent as the day of your wedding, speechless as you walked down the aisle more than ready to spend the rest of your life with him; I love you, he had said through tears, I’ll love you with all my heart until my last breath.

And as you stood in front of him, at a loss of words for yourself, you still wanted him to love you even after accusing you of the most heinous act in a marriage.

Another pregnant pause; your teeth clattered together as you failed to hold back your cries while Shawn’s fists shook at his sides.

Wordlessly, you brushed past him and picked your phone off the counter rushing to the door.  You threw on your converse, only having time to tuck the laces under the tongue, not wanting to spend anymore time in Shawn’s presence.  It felt as if the walls of your marriage was collapsing -––Your lungs were collapsing as you felt sobs blocking your airway––And with each step you took further away from Shawn, you felt your world crumble a little bit more.

You plucked a random jacket from the coat rack and before you even registered Shawn trying to call out your name, you slammed the door shut.  You dug your hands deep in the pockets as the brisk Toronto air hit your face.

Your rings were burning a hole into your skin.

A twenty minute walk on the streets of Toronto would normally relax you, but normally your hand would be hooked around Shawn’s arm as the two of you laughed on your way to a restaurant.  The streets were tainted with memories of him as you rounded the corner of a familiar street.

“Y/n?”

You sniffled as you spoke into the callbox, “Hey–Jessie? Can––Could you buzz me–me–In?”

The sound of the door unlocking brought more comfort to you than your husband had in the past month.

Not being able to stand still in an elevator by yourself, you opted to walk up six flights of stairs.  You had spent countless days at Jessie’s apartment whenever Shawn was away on tour; from when you first started seeing each other, toward the end of his Illuminate Tour, you had spent countless nights sleeping over at her cozy Toronto apartment.  The two of you would stay up late with ice-cream as you scoured every update account to get a glimpse of the boy who would text you after every show saying how he wished you were with him.

You knocked once on the door before it swung open to show a confused Jessie in a bathrobe and facemask, she tilted her head, “Lover’s quarrel?”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth, but no amount of muffling could cover up the sound of your uncontrollable cries of grief.  Jessie’s eyes widened as she ushered you into her apartment and quickly shut the door as you fell into her arms before she turned the lock of the deadbolt with a soft click.

You stood in the entryway of her apartment, staining your best friend’s shirt with tears, as you gripped onto the back of her shirt for dear life.  Because the lifeline you normally had in your husband was thrown overboard.

Forming a coherent sentence was impossible with the sobs that tore through your chest.  You tried your hardest to say that; no, this wasn’t just a lover’s quarrel, it was something bigger.  It was something bigger than Jessie realized until she was able to decode a sentence that you kept repeating out loud until it became as familiar to you as a prayer.

He doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.

///

A few days had passed since you hastily made an exit from your apartment.  You thought the sinking feeling would leave once you were away from your husband’s presence, but instead, your heart only ached more.

Shawn didn’t have much time left in Canada before he had to head back on the road, and it caused your chest to tighten up every time you thought of him leaving you again.

But why did it matter; you thought to yourself as you were wrapped up in a blanket, knees tucked up to your chest as you leaned on the far side on Jessie’s couch.  Your hands cradled the lukewarm tea, it being the only thing that gave you warmth, he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.

You’ve only moved from your position on the couch to go walk to the bathroom, your socks gliding on the hardwood floor because you didn’t have the energy to pick up your feet.  

It was lunch time, and just like all other three meals throughout the day, Jessie brought over the meal she prepared you and softly placed it on the coffee table with a meek smile and somber eyes, “Tomato soup.”

You nodded your head and glanced at the soup in the yellow bowl.  You took another sip of your tea.

“Y/n,” Jessie breathed out your name, trying to get your attention, as she knelt down in front of you.  But you continued to stare past her shoulder, eyes focusing on the window as the pitter patter of rain softly hit the glass

She repeated your name once more, a comforting hand on your knee, but you slowly shook your head with a wobble of your chin.  The only time you had spoken to Jessie was when you first arrived at her place and fell into her arms as you sobbed about your ruined marriage.

You were silent, just like Shawn’s communication with you since you fled your home.  

He came home without wearing his wedding ring.

Your hands tighten around your mug, tea now cold, as you bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted something metallic.  You had no verbal answer for her, just a shake of your head as you held your breath, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat.

The all too familiar sting behind your eyes crept back like an old friend.  You shut your eyes tight as you gasped out for a breath.

“He’s going to divorce me, Jess.”

Her hand on your knee fell limp as you brought a hand up to cover the choked sob that escaped past your lips, “I love him so much and he’s gonna divorce––”

“He would never do that to you,” Jessie’s voice was confident, something you hadn’t felt about yourself, or your marriage, in months, “He wouldn’t even dream of that.”

You removed your hand from your mouth, a gut wrenching sob shattering through your chest as you tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “You didn’t see him––The––The things he said to me,” Jessie took the mug form your hands as you wrapped your arms around your bent legs, tucking your head into your knees, “I’m so scared.”

It was a whisper, but the despair in your voice was not lost on your best friend.  

“I––” Jessie didn’t know how she felt.  She knew she felt her own heart breaking for her best friend––for Shawn as well––because she had been there with them since the start of their relationship.  She was the one who introduced you two. But she also felt anger, a betrayal, deep within her bones that made her blood boil, “––I need to pick up groceries.”

Jessie didn’t want to leave her best friend, but she wanted to pay a visit to the man who broke his promise––to cherish you forever––to her best friend.

She reluctantly stood up, staring down at you with tears in her own eyes, as you kept your head buried between your knees and the blanket.  She knelt down to press a featherlight kiss to the top of your head, whispering, “get some rest.”

She didn’t know if you would listen to her, but she noticed the exhaustion behind the heartbreak in your eyes.  And with a slight nod, you agreed that you needed sleep, readjusted your position on the couch and tried to keep your eyes shut tight so as to not let any more tears stain the blanket.

Once Jessie was positive you were asleep, she slipped on her sneakers and left her place without a jacket.  She needed the cold Canadian air to cool down the heat she felt in her body for being so angry.

The twenty minutes it would normally take her to walk to your apartment took her only thirteen minutes.  Jessie breezed through the lobby, impatiently tapped her foot as she rode the elevator up, and harshly knocked on the door until it was opened by a wide eye Shawn.

“Y/n?” Shawn asked desperately before he even registered who was at the door.

Jessie rolled her eyes and pushed past him, “Do you think she would knock on her own door?”  She scoffed as she looked around the apartment; pillows thrown astray, dishes piled up in the sink, and ruffled blankets on the couch telling her that he hasn’t been sleeping in their bed, “What the hell is your problem?!”

Shawn didn’t register her question as he continued to stare out the door, looking up and down the hallway.  Jessie knew exactly who he was waiting for, and with a sigh, she softened her voice, “She’s not with me.”

His head whipped back to Jessie as if he forgot she was there, “She––Are you––Has she been staying with you?”

All the anger came flooding back into her system as she narrowed her eyes at his question, “You would know if you tried calling her.”

He slowly closed the door and leaned up against it with a defeated sigh, “I knew she didn’t want to hear from me––”

“Are you kidding?” Jessie clenched her fists at her sides in anger, “You were the only person she wanted to hear from.”  

Shawn closed his eyes and rubbed the corners of them, not knowing what to say in response.  Jessie knew she didn’t have to tell him how terrible he acted toward his wife, she could see it with every defeated slump of his shoulders, the way their usually neat apartment was a mess, and his bloodshot eyes.

“How is she?”

Jessie rolled her eyes again, ignoring his question because she knew that he already knew the answer to it, “You have some nerve coming home to her without your ring.”

Shawn’s melancholy composure dropped and she saw his eyes narrow in irritation, “How else was I supposed to react?”  He let out a bitter laugh, “A whole magazine spread came out showing my wife with another man––”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jessie walked up to him and poked his chest hard, “What happened to you always telling her not to believe everything she read in the papers about you? Every time you were seen with a different girl, every rumor of ‘sparks flying’ after you sang a duet with a different girl––What about everything she had to put up with with you?””

“That’s different because she knew those weren’t true––”

“So what about this?!” Jessie blew up and threw her hands in the air, “This is no different.  This is the first time she’s been caught up in something like this.”

“She was jumpy the last time I spoke to her on the phone!” Shawn defended himself, “She sounded like she didn’t want me to come home and after I saw those pictures,” Shawn swallowed as he looked down at the floor.  He felt his stomach drop as if he remembered the moment his mother texted him a link to the article.

“Everything just made sense,” Shawn whispered as he shook his head.

There was silence between the two of them for a moment before Jessie spat out, “That’s a weak excuse,” and Shawn raised his head up, eyebrows pulled together, “Did you forget what’s written on the inside of your ring?”

Shawn looked down in shame and shook his head.  He knew exactly what was written on the inside of his ring––with your handwriting––and the same thing was written on the inside of your ring; with his handwriting.

With all my heart.

Out of habit, Shawn brought his fingers to touch his ring finger.  But unlike all the other times the tips of his fingers would softly brush against the ring finger on his left hand in remembrance to you, he didn’t feel the cool metal of his ring.  Just his bare finger.

“How could you?” Jessie’s voice was barely above a whisper.  Shawn wasn’t her husband, so she couldn’t even comprehend the amount of betrayal you felt, but with being his friend since he was thirteen, she was at a loss of words, “For as long as I’ve known you…I’ve never been more disappointed in you in my life.”

Shawn ran a hand through his hair, “Jess––“

Jessie shook her head, “She always let you explain yourself––Most times she didn’t even think twice if you were out with someone else––Because she trusted you.”  Shawn nodded solemnly, “But you didn’t give her the same respect.”

“I know.”

Without sparing his feelings, because Jessie didn’t think he deserved any sympathy, she said words that knew would cut Shawn to his core, “She thinks you’re going to divorce her.”

His mouth dropped, all expressions of guilt left his face, as he stared at his friend.  He didn’t even know what he was feeling.  All he knew was that he swore his heart stopped beating and that the ringing in his ears was becoming relentless.

“She––Why would––That never––“ his hands started shaking, as he felt his eyes well up with tears, because he never wanted to picture his life without you.  His voice cracked, “Divorce?”

With a sharp nod, Jessie crossed her arms over her chest, “Well, when your husband comes home without his wedding ring on, what other conclusion is she going to come to?”

Shawn shook his head, “That wasn’t my––“

“You took your ring off,” Jessie’s eyes looked at his ring finger, noticing a sliver of his finger a share lighter than the rest of his skin tone, “I’m not married, but I know you’re not supposed to do that if you love your spouse.”

“I do love her,” Shawn spoke angrily.

Jessie tapped her foot, “I’m not leaving until you put your ring back on.”  She watched as he dug his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and pulled out a golden band.  She smiled as Shawn slipped it back into place, “You two need to talk,” she said as if it was the easiest thing in the world, “You need to listen to her because there’s more to those pictures.”

Shawn nodded his head, like he was a kid listening to his mom telling him to clean his room.  He knew they needed to talk, he knew that he messed up, but he was also terrified of what you were going to say to him.  He had never thought of divorcing you, but if the thought was swirling around in your mind…Would you want to divorce him?

“I have to run some errands,” Jessie smiled at the ring that was back in its place on his finger, “I’ll be gone for about an hour–––“

Before Jessie could finish her sentence, Shawn turned around on his heel, running to the front door to fling it open.  She heard his footsteps race down the hall and smiled to herself even more.  

Shawn was lucky that she knew where their spare key was hidden so she could lock up behind her.

///

You knew Jessie waited until she thought you were asleep to leave to pick up groceries.  So you tried your hardest to fake your rest, and when you heard the door softly close behind her, you opened your eyes and continued to stare out the window.  You didn’t have a lot of motivation, sometimes just thinking was too much energy, so you only tried to focus on the sounds of rain hitting the window and the low rumble of thunder you heard.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that for, but you started to get thirsty, and without Jessie here to refill your tea, you had no choice but to make yourself a cup.  Begrudgingly, you sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around you like a cape, and made your way into the kitchen.  Filling the tea kettle up with water, you placed it on the stove.  Picking at the hangnails on your fingers, you lifted your head up when heard the door abruptly open.

Even if it had been Jessie returning with groceries, you still would have stayed mute upon her re-entry, and when your eyes landed on the person you least expected to see, you still stayed quiet.

He was out of breath, cheeks flushed red as his chest heaved, but you didn’t say a word to him.  You only listened to the low rumble of water boiling in the tea kettle.

He didn’t say anything either.  He was trying to communicate with his eyes; wide and hopeful that you would forgive him for being an idiot.  But you stared at him with a blank expression.

“Did you run here?”

Shawn nodded as he exhaled, “I––Jessie said you were here.”

You quirked an eyebrow, and pulled the blanket tighter around your body.  Not saying anything in response, you diverted your eyes down to the white kettle.

As you stood in the kitchen with your husband, you had never felt more uncomfortable in your life.  You never thought there would be a time you didn’t feel comfortable in his presence, just seeing him through FaceTime would be enough to make you smile; but as you stood in front of him for the first time since you saw him without his ring, you didn’t want to see him.

Your eyes were focused hard on the kettle, channeling all of your anger to the boiling water, “Thought the next time I would hear from you was going to be with Brian serving me divorce papers.”

It was a low blow, and you heard the sharp intake of breath from him, but you didn’t care.  He made you feel like hell for the past month of him ignoring you and then blowing up in your face, not giving yourself a chance to explain your situation to him.

“I would never––You know I would never do that.”

“Do I?” You bit your bottom lip, “I never thought you’d take off your ring.”

That cut Shawn off from saying whatever he planned because you had a point.  He never thought he would take off his ring, but he did.  He took it off, and at the time, he didn’t understand the consequences that would come with it when he returned to you.  He thought he knew everything by just looking at those pictures.  He thought the marriage was over before he stepped foot back into your home.

Hastily, Shawn lifted his left hand, the gold ring was dull under the kitchen lights, “I put–––“ he stopped talking when he saw you lightly touch the kettle with your left hand.  You only brought your hand out of the blanket for half a second, but that half a second was more than enough time for him to realize what the worst sight in the world was, “Your––You took off your rings.”

You retracted your hand back into the blanket and glared at him, “I wasn’t the first.”

“That’s not fair,” Shawn’s words were cold, “There was proof that you could’ve been––”

“Could’ve been what?” You reached up into the cabinet to grab a tea bag, “Cheating on you? Unfaithful? In a relationship with another man––”

“Stop!” He yelled as he pressed his palms against his head, eyes shut tight.  He’d been tortured with the thought of you being with someone else while he was away, he didn’t want to imagine it even more, “Jessie told me that it wasn’t fair to not let you––”

“Oh, so you listened to her and not me?” You shot back at him, forgetting about your tea. “Should I be worried about that?  Hm?  You and Jessie––”

“Now you’re just being over dramatic,” Shawn rolled his eyes.

You felt the anger bubble up in the pit of your stomach like the tea that started to lowly whistle, “No,” you raised your voice to match his, “being over dramatic was taking off your fucking ring––”

“I put it back on!” Shawn yelled as he held up his hand again, pointing to the ring on his finger, “I put it back on for you––”

“That’s rich,” you laughed out, “Because if you hadn’t dodged my calls you wouldn’t have taken it off in the first place.”

He clenched his jaw, “Well, if you didn’t sound like you didn’t want me to come home we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“If I…” Your voice cracked as you thought back to all the times Ethan made advances on you, where he made you feel uncomfortable, and it was as if you were transported to your last lesson.

With a deep breath, all anger you felt towards your husband disappeared.  You were now more sad than anything else.  Sad that he wasn’t taking time to listen about how those pictures came about.

You repeated yourself with a sniffle, “If I…” you had to pause again, feeling your throat close up because if he wasn’t taking the time to listen for the second time around, would he ever listen to anything?  

“I didn’t know how to tell you about him––How––How uncomfortable he made me feel––”

The rigidness behind his voice cut you off, “I’m your husband, you can come to me with anything, and if he made you uncomfortable, why didn’t you just change instructors?”

“Why didn’t I––What?” The shakiness of your voice was covered up by the tea kettle that was now whistling out of control, “Change instructors––He––Do you even care what he did?”

“That’s not the––”

You brought your left hand up to cover your mouth, you had cried too many times in front of him and you were tired of him not listening to you, “Leave.”

Shawn shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not leaving––”

You felt your chin wobble as you shook your head, vision starting to cloud from the build up of tears in your eyes, “Go––I––I want you to leave.”

He took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort you, but the last thing you wanted was for him to comfort you.  

Noticing you recoiling from his touch, he reached over to turn the stove off and poured the hot water into the mug, “I don’t––I’m not home for much longer,” his voice was desperate as he set the kettle back down on the stove top, “I’m home for three more days––Don’t––Please come home.”

You shook your head, “I don’t––You––Leave.”

He stood firmly in place, “Not without you––”

“Go!” You shouted through your tears as you pointed at the door, “I can’t be around you-–you.”  Shawn continued to shake his head, his eyes filling up with tears as you pleaded with him to leave you alone.  

Your next words were cruel, you were taking advantage of how scared he was to lose you, but that didn’t matter to you.  All you wanted was to be alone.

“If you don’t leave now,” your voice had softened but the edge was still there as tears continued to run down your face, “I don’t know what that’ll mean for our marriage.”

He didn’t move an inch, challenging your words, but you kept eye contact with him.  You wanted him to know that you were serious––serious about how him not leaving would be detrimental to your marriage––But in all honesty, you were bluffing.  You didn’t want your marriage to end as much as he didn’t.  But right now…You couldn’t be in the same room as the man you married.

His eyes were wide, not believing the ultimatum you gave him, but he didn’t want to lose you forever.  He took a step toward you, but when you shut your eyes at his movement, his heart broke and he knew the best thing to do was give you what you wanted.  And that was space.  

Your eyes stayed shut as you heard his footsteps grow further away.  You finally opened your eyes when you heard the door close.  Even with how you continuously cried for days, your eyes were not out of tears.

 You felt a new wave of sobs take over your body as you sat on the kitchen floor crying your eyes out with your tea abandoned on the counter.

///

You didn’t go back home and Shawn left for tour again.  

He would be gone for two months until he got the chance to return home to Canada.  It might’ve been selfish of you to ignore his plea for you to return home to him, it would no doubt cause him more stress than usual on tour, but for your sanity you knew returning home would only cause another argument.

You stayed with Jessie for a week longer before coming to the conclusion that you needed to return home.  While your home wouldn’t be complete until Shawn returned, you needed to be back in that space.

Walking into the home for the first time in a few weeks was strange.  It was eerily quiet, but everything looked in place, if not more clean than what you were used to.  Jessie told you that she had seen dishes stacked up in the sink among other things thrown around, so you were glad Shawn had the decency to clean up before he left.

Standing in the doorway, you looked at the bay window you sat in when Shawn returned home that afternoon.  And like a movie, it was as if you could see the whole fight play out; Shawn throwing the tabloid at your feet and then screaming at one another.  The vile words he said to you still hurt to think about, so you looked away from the window that made you fall in love with the apartment.

You slowly walked further into the apartment and everything you saw held a memory.  In the kitchen you saw Shawn trying to distract you from cooking as he did a terrible dance.  In the living room, you saw the couch and thought about the countless times you’d fallen asleep on each other in the middle of a movie.  And in the corner, where there was a little bookshelf and chairs to relax in, you saw yourself reading a book as Shawn sat in the chair opposite of you, trying to perfect a song’s chorus.

Everything coming back in waves was too much, but only a few tears leaked from your eyes.  Most of the memories that came back to you were happy.  They were full of laughter and smiles––Just like how your marriage had been.  They always say how the first fight is the worst, but you didn’t think it could get any worse than this.

Finding yourself in your bedroom, you flicked the lights on, and immediately changed into sweatpants and one of Shawn's shirts.  Part of you wished you returned home before he left, but you knew you weren’t emotionally ready for that.  So you opted for one of his t-shirts to bring you his comfort as he was halfway across the world from you.

You peeled back the covers on his side of the bed, slowly getting under, and bringing the sheets up to your chin.  You buried your head into his pillow and that’s when you lost it.  What if by being selfish and not coming home you had wrecked your marriage? You were both angry, but Shawn took a lot of things to heart, and there was no doubt you knew he felt absolutely crushed that you didn’t return home.

As if he knew you were thinking of him, your phone rang, and you saw the ridiculous selfie he took on your phone when he was nineteen.  You wanted to swipe and answer the call.  You wanted to hear his voice.  But you were scared that he would actually confirm your worst fears and say that your marriage was over.

You screened the call, and right when you were about to put your phone down and cry into his pillow more, his contact picture lit up your screen again.

With a shaky breath, you tried your best to push all your fears down as you answered the call, “Sh––Shawn?”

“Y/n,” he breathed out your name with a sigh of relief, “I––I’m so glad you picked up.”

You nodded your head against the pillow and whimpered, “I––Yeah––I––Sh––Shawn––I––”

“Please don’t leave me,” he shakily breathed out the sentence in one breath, “I don’t know––I––” You could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m such an asshole and this––You––I love you and I can’t––” You heard an ugly sob from the other end of the phone as he whispered out the best he could, “Please––please don’t leave me.”

You felt all of your fears disappear as you let out a little cry of relief, “I love you too.”

“We––We can talk––You can talk,” he corrected himself and it caused you to laugh a little, “When I get home?”

You nodded your head and for the first time, in a long time, you smiled, “I’ll be waiting.”

///

Nearly two months later, you were making yourself a cup of tea as you awaited Shawn’s arrival.  Even though the two of you talked almost every night, conversation was still strained with how you last saw each other; you shouting at him to leave threatening that your marriage could be over if he didn’t.  It was a heavy note to leave off on, but the two of you brushed it under the rug as you would recount what you did during your day and he told you about the show he had performed.

You were nervous––more nervous than you were on your first date with him––but you tried to push those feelings away.  He was your husband.  You both loved each other endlessly.  And it did ease your anxiety a bit knowing that your marriage wasn’t going to end after this conversation.

The sound of a key unlocking your door caused your heart rate to spike as you threw away your tea bag.  He was home and it was time to really talk.

Much like the ill fated day he came home without his ring, he rolled in a small carry-on suitcase and had a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder.  The first thing your eyes went to was his left hand, and even though you had seen it in every picture of him performing on stage, it still brought a smile to your face seeing it on his hand.  While his left sock was raised higher than the right sock, and his t-shirt was still wrinkled, you noticed his hair was a little shorter.

“Did you get a haircut?”

Shawn dropped his duffle bag with a smile as he rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen, “Do you like it?”  

You nodded your head with a smile as you passed him a freshly made cup of tea as your hands circled your own cup, “Your curls look more tame.”

Shawn laughed into his tea before he took a sip and placed the mug down.  He exhaled a deep breath, tapping his fingers on the sides of the mug like he was playing piano, and gave you a worrisome look, “Can I––Can I hug you?”

Your shoulders dropped at how uncertain he sounded.  But then again, it had been months since you last touched him.  The last time you touched him was before he left for tour the first time; before he took off his ring.

“Yeah,” you croaked out with a nod.

Within a matter of seconds, Shawn’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, hugging you like it was one of his last moments on Earth.  You circled your arms around his waist and your body was immediately flooded with the warmth of his chest.  It had been so long since you had any form of physical contact with him that you almost forgot what a simple hug felt like.

And it was something you never wanted to go months without again.

Shawn pressed a kiss to the top of your head, which made you feel giddy on the inside, before he slightly pulled away, “I––I won’t say a thing,” he whispered as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, “But I think we need to talk.”

The giddiness you felt dissipated and your insides now felt queasy.  You wanted to forget that the past few months had happened.  You tried your best to block it from your memory, but Shawn was right, you needed to talk in order to move forward in your marriage.

So you talked and Shawn didn’t utter a single word.  You explained how Jessie thought cooking lessons would be a good idea to distract you from missing Shawn, how the advances Ethan first made were a joke here and there, but then he started paying more attention to you.  He became hyperfixtated on the way you cut vegetables and how––If you change this and follow me, he would say before lightly touching you and directing your hand movements, you’ll have what you need––trying to add a double meaning to his words.

You could see Shawn’s jaw clench a few times as his knuckles would turn white from how tight he was holding the mug.  While you knew he didn’t like what he was hearing, you were appreciative that he was listening instead of arguing with you like the last time.

“And um––Yeah––So That’s––Yeah.”  You rambled off as you went to touch your wrist that Ethan harshly grabbed a few months ago.  And even though the grease burns on your back were healed, you still felt the itch of them as if they happened yesterday.

After a brief moment of silence, Shawn closed his eyes and let an aggravated breath out through his nostrils, “He…He touched you.”

You nodded your head as you took a sip of your tea, wanting to delay any sort of response for as long as you could, “Yeah,” But with his eyes staring into yours, you knew he wasn’t going to let you skip over any detail, “Those, um––That picture in the magazine…That’s when the grease spilled on my back.”

Shawn rubbed his hands over his eyes, he was no doubt exhausted from traveling, and it probably didn’t do him any good hearing this story, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

What was different than before the times you tried to talk to him about this, his voice wasn’t accusatory;  It was careful.  Careful in the sense that he didn’t want you to think he was upset with you.  Because the situation wasn’t your fault and he knew that.  

“You’re already so stressed with your job,” you looked down into your empty mug, “I didn’t want to add any stress.”

Shawn reached his hand across the counter and unwrapped one of your hands from your mug.  He laced your fingers together and held your hand tightly, “I’m your husband,” he weakly smiled at you, “The music, touring, writing––None of that is a real job––My my job to worry about you.”

While he sounded a bit defeated, you knew that he meant well.  You knew that he was only upset with himself because you were scared to go to him with something that made you uncomfortable.  He always wanted to be your person to go to whenever you felt yourself in a weird situation, and in this instance, he thought that he failed at that part of being your husband.

So you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, “I know you’re not going to forget about this,” he raised an eyebrow at you because you knew he was never going to forget this disastrous fight or forget about what Ethan did to you, “But for now, can we forget about it and take a nap?”

With a shake of his head, he let out a chuckle, “You’re right that I’m not going to forget about this,” he said as he lifted your connected hands over your mug as he pulled you out of the kitchen and down to your bedroom, “But a nap sounds fantastic.”

And for the first time in months, you walked to your bedroom with a lovesick smile on your face, trailing behind the man you fell in love with more every day you shared together.

///

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” You laughed as you tightened your hold around Shawn’s arm, “This isn’t fair!”

“It’s a surprise,” he smirked as he continued to lead the way down the streets of Toronto.  

It was a peaceful day in the capital city of Ontario.  The sun was shining, birds chirping, and you were arm-in-arm with your husband.  He had just finished the last leg of his world tour and you couldn’t be more proud of everything he accomplished.  Luckily enough, you were able to join him on tour for the last two months, and spent your first wedding anniversary in Napa, California the day before his show in Sacramento.

It was definitely an ideal way to spend your first year married to Shawn––drinking wine––And everyone congratulated you on getting through what was dubbed to be the “hardest” year of marriage.  That was the understatement of the century. And both you and Shawn would always brush off everyone joking about it because they didn’t know how hard of a year it really was.  

The whole debacle with the tabloid magazine was mostly swept under the rug, and you just told your families and the people on Shawn’s team he was closest to, that it was just a misunderstanding; A tabloid that took things way out of proportion. The only people who really knew how devastating the year had been was you, Shawn, and Jessie.

Sometimes there would be a thought in the back of your head about how detrimental another fight like that could be to your marriage.  But you always tried to shut those thoughts down as soon as possible and just focus on the good things in your life.  And right now, that was Shawn leading you to a surprise location, because he thought the two of you needed another anniversary celebration.  

“I––I’ll…” Your voice trailed off as you walked down the familiar strip of shops, “After you’ve fallen asleep, I’ll take your socks off.”

Shawn threw his head back in laughter at your poor attempt to get him to spill the surprise, “Impossible because you always fall asleep before me.”

“Fair,” you let out a sigh, “I still think it’s weird you sleep with socks on.”

“I thought we agreed to disagree on that.”

“It’s just,” you squeezed his bicep, at a loss of words, “infuriating.”

Shawn smiled brightly down at you before quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek, “But you still married me.”

With a roll of your eyes you softly hit him in the stomach, “Yeah, yeah…” But when you turned a corner, you knew why these shops were so familiar, and you almost stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, “What are we––Shawn?”

He looked back at you with a sheepish smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

“Shawn,” you hesitantly said his name again, “What're you planning?”

Again, he shrugged his shoulders, “You know how terrible I am in the kitchen,” he glanced back at the place where you took your cooking lessons when he was away on tour.  And for a moment, the playfulness dropped from his face as he seriously looked into your eyes, “If you’re not comfortable going back in there, we can always get coffee across the street.”

You mentally made a pros and cons list in your mind.  You hadn’t been in the place you received your cooking lessons since you stormed out of there.  And as far as you knew, Ethan still worked there, which made your skin crawl.  But you were with Shawn.  Shawn would be by your side the whole time.  And you were curious to see what he had up his sleeve.

“I mean…I’m fine with it,” your voice wavered.  He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you if you were actually fine to go back in there, because he didn’t want to push you with something you weren’t 100-percent on.  So you cleared your throat and repeated yourself, “I’m fine going in, but…I think he’s supposed to be teaching today?”

A wicked smile spread across Shawn’s face, “Three o’clock couple’s cooking class with Ethan Anguis.”

Your mouth dropped and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, “You did not.”

Shawn smirked, “I do believe we have to check-in in ten minutes before we lose my deposit.”

You shook your head because you could not believe how ridiculous your husband was, “Lead the way.”

With a gleam of mischief in his eyes, he smiled as he bent over with his arm stretched out as he opened the door for you.  You let out another laugh as he followed you into the familiar classroom.  You were standing behind a few other couple’s but once you heard his voice, your hand instinctively gripped onto Shawn’s tighter.

He looked down at you, again, silently asking you if you were comfortable with this.  You nodded, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face with the man who had caused your marriage to be hell for a few months.  

Ethan was looking down at the check-in book, not realizing you were in front of him, before Shawn cleared his throat, “Mr. and Mrs. Mendes.”

His head shot up as he ignored Shawn’s presence entirely and only had eyes for you.  You shifted closer into Shawn’s side as Ethan sent a smile your way, “Y/n, it’s nice to see you––”

“Do you always refer to your student’s by their first name?” Shawn didn’t hide the malice in his voice, he wanted Ethan to know that you were just a student. 

Ethan’s eyes darted to Shawn for a brief second, before his eyes flickered down to your hands clasped together, and you swore you saw him glaring at your hands before he tried to compose himself before answering Shawn’s question, “She––I’ve had her in class before.”

“Then you should be used to calling her Mrs. Mendes.”

Ethan’s eyes hardened at the protectiveness of Shawn’s words as he nodded his head once, “We’ll be at table six––”

Shawn stepped forward until his lower stomach was basically toppling over the weak wooden podium, “If you do anything to make her feel uncomfortable again,” his low and threatening voice sent a shiver down your spine as he insinuated what he had done in the past, “I swear you’ll never work in a restaurant in Toronto again.”

You noticed how Ethan’s jaw clenched as his face began to turn red.  You didn’t know if it was red out of embarrassment or anger, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“We’ll be at table six,” you said as you dragged Shawn by the hand.

You made it to your table and you couldn’t help but smile up at Shawn who had a proud smirk on his face, “What are you doing?”

The two of you sat down on the barstools as you waited for everyone else to get checked in.  Shawn moved his stool closer to yours so that you could sit side-by-side, thighs touching, as he threw an arm over your shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, “Just tryna cause a little trouble.”

You rolled your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

Shawn smiled brightly down, “And I love you,” his attention was briefly pulled away when Ethan called out that the lesson would be beginning shortly.  When he returned his gaze back down to you, he smiled softly, noticing that your eyes had never left him, “With all my heart.”

taglist: @fallinallincurls @alina--jpeg @adelaidestreets @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u @turtoix​ @shawnsmutal @vinylmendes @mendesficsxbombay @lights-on-mendes @illuminatepotter @shawnmendez @thatkidwhodreams 

[gallickingun]

gallick’s blog writing rules

Hey guys, gallick here! As I expand my writing parameters, I thought it would be good to make a rules post. I ask that you please read this prior to requesting, because it has my preferences, request status, and content info included. 

Please be aware: I reserve the right to delete any and ALL requests/asks that do not conform to my rules. 

My inbox is always open for thirsting [defined below], questions, conversation, venting, and advice. See the remaining rules below the cut ―

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

【CONTENT INDEX】

what is a... ✰ 『thirst』this is usually when you send in your thoughts on a certain character in a certain situation. My responses can be anything from a jumbled up paragraph to a full on thirst drabble (~250-500 words), depending on whether I’m on mobile vs. desktop, as well as if I jive with your thirst. That being said, don’t ever feel ashamed of the thirst that you want to send in! Even if it’s not my thing, as long as it’s not on my no-no list [see below], I’ll at least post it with some sort of response! See examples of thirst «here», «here», «here»,  and «here». Thirst can sometimes turn into full on fics depending on how I feel about it!

✰ 『drabble』this is a “fic” that is generally more in depth than a thirst, but not as plot-driven as a full on one shot or fic. I usually keep drabbles between 500-2,000 words. They are normally given their own post instead of replying to the ask itself, but I will respond to the ask with a link to the drabble once I’ve posted it. 

✰ 『fic』this is usually a one-shot piece, which means it is a stand-alone fanfiction work. These are at least 2,000 words in length, and I do not put a limit on them as I have no self-control and will write huge fics with no regard to my personal sanity. These will always be posted as their own text post, and will more than likely be {sporadically} uploaded to my ao3 account as well. If the fic is inspired by an ask, I will answer the ask with a link to the fic once I’ve posted it.

✰ 『multi-chap fic』this is usually a piece that spans at minimum two parts, connected via the plotline that runs consistently through them both. As of now, I do not have any multi-chapter works, but I do have a couple planned for the future! These will always be posted as their own text post, with links to the prior part as well as the future part, once it has been posted. 

【WRITING RULES】

✰ All characters are aged up to at least 20 years of age no matter whether the situation is sfw or nsfw. The only times I will write “high school” types of works will be in flashbacks, not full length fics. I always try to explicitly state within the work that they are of age - whether that’s referring to them a Pro Heroes (BNHA), Pro Athletes (Haikyuu!!), etc. If I ever discuss “dorms”, I am always talking about college dorms/apartments. 

✰ This is my blog, and therefore I get to choose what I do and do not want to write. I apologize if that means I have glossed over your request, but I cannot force myself into writing something I do not feel like I can do, because then it’s not genuine and even though it gets the content out, it’s not content I’d be proud of. 

✰ I do NOT close my requests. I feel like it’s pointless, given a lot of people don’t pay attention to the open/closed titles anyway. With this being said, I do receive a lot of requests. If you feel that yours has gotten buried, eaten by the tumblr ask monster, or ignored, please feel free to send it in again. Also keep in mind that I might have deleted or ignored your ask in favor of another that sparked more inspiration. That doesn’t mean I won’t come back to yours later. Be patient with me!

✰ Please be kind. I don’t ask that you fawn over me when you send in a request, but be courteous when you send me an ask. If you just send me a blunt ask, I might not understand what you’re really asking for, or what you actually want, which can stunt the creative process and possibly end up with me deleting your ask. I understand that not everyone speaks English well, so I try to be patient with the more forward requests. Just be aware that I am not a writing machine here for your pleasure. This is a hobby, a fun way of escapism for you and me both. The moment it feels like a job, I will stop.

【DO’S AND DON’T’S】

『 My writing is usually male character x female reader, unless specified otherwise. I do accept female character requests, though. As I do try to keep my appearances of reader relatively neutral, I know that is not always the case. I am constantly trying to learn and evolve my writing, but reader content can be difficult to nail down with all the scenarios that I’m writing or requested to write, given that they are very specific in nature. Please be kind and constructive if you choose to criticize, but criticism is always welcome. 』

『 I always put warnings in my tags above the fic post, so please read the warnings prior to diving into a piece. As stated below, sometimes I will use kinks or tropes or categories/genres that make people uncomfortable or triggered, and I want you to keep yourself safe rather than reading my writing just because it’s mine. I use warnings, tags, and a read more on my posts - if you choose to read the post anyway, then that is your own responsibility and I will not respond to any asks shaming me for what I have written, or blaming me for you being triggered. Please let me know if I have not correctly tagged or warned a post and I will make corrections as soon as possible. 』

― The CHARACTERS I prefer, and who will get priority over others are... My Hero Academia ✰ Bakugou Katsuki ✰ Kirishima Eijirou ✰ Tamaki Amajiki ✰ Todoroki Shouto Haikyuu!! ✰ Sugawara Koushi ✰ Bokuto Koutaro ✰ Kuroo Tetsurou ✰ Oikawa Tooru ✰ Sawamura Daichi ✰ Kageyama Tobio Dragon Ball ✰ Vegeta ✰ Piccolo ✰ Gohan ✰ Trunks

― The GENRES I will write... ✰ Angst (mostly happy endings bc I’m a sap) ✰ Fluff ✰ Smut ✰ Alternate Universe  ✰ Hurt/Comfort - this can include things such as anxiety, depression, etc. but will always end with the comfort in mind.  ✰ Alpha, Beta, Omega dynamics (bare with me, I’m learning)

― The CONTENT I will NOT write... ✘ Suicide (reader or character)  ✘ Minor x Adult ✘ Vore, Gore, Intense Violence ✘ Piss or Shit Kinks ✘ Incest, Pseudo Incest, anything relatively familial in nature. ✘ Ass Play (in detail - i.e. pegging, fingering, etc.)  ✘ Cheating ✘ Crack Fics (i.e. overly humorous or satirical content) ✘ Character x Character - this is a loose rule, but currently I don’t have any CxC ships that I am writing for, or feel the need to write for. ✘ Poly relationships - this is another loose rule, but I am not overly well-versed with polyamorous relationships, so they can be difficult for me to nail down. If I feel inspired, or if I open poly requests, I will let you guys know.

【TAGS】

『If there is any type of content you do not want to read, I ask that you please blacklist it. I will do my best to tag all asks/posts accordingly, but I am only human and might miss one here and there. Feel free to send me a quick message letting me know that I have missed something, but please be kind.』

『I believe it is your responsibility to monitor and improve your online experience. If you don’t like Bakugou, please blacklist my Bakugou tag(s). If you are a minor, and do not wish to interact with my nsfw content, please blacklist my smut tag. I will not be tagging things directly as “nsfw”, because this can get you taken out of the tags entirely, and I do also write sfw pieces in addition to my nsfw pieces.』

『I do NOT tag generic posts unless they are triggering. This includes all reblogs - graphics, fics, etc.』

『Here is how to blacklist tags on desktop and mobile.』

『I always use three versions of the “character” tag(s), with their surname only as well as their given name, and then their full name. I.e. bakugou x reader, katsuki x reader, bakugou katsuki x reader.』

― Writing Tags ✰ #character x reader ✰ #character smut ✰ #character thirst ✰ #OC: Belle Marie Sinclair - (Bakugou OC) ✰ #OC: Lilith - (Kirishima OC) ― Trigger Warning Tags ✰ #tw: dubcon ✰ #tw: noncon ✰ #tw: suicide ✰ #tw: self harm ✰ #tw: degredation  ― Personal Tags ✰ #morgan.txt - my original text posts  ✰ #morgan-gets-mail - answered asks ✰ #morgan-has-friends - mutuals interactions ✰ #morgan-does-commissions - commission-related posts ✰ #morgan-has-a-patreon - Patreon-related posts ✰ #morgan-says-read-it - Fic recs ✰ #morgan-says-look-at-it - Art recs ✰ #morgan-says-listen - Audio recs

【FINAL THOUGHTS】

I reserve the right to delete any of the asks sent into my inbox. This includes... ✘ Hateful Asks ✘ Baiting/Leading Asks ✘ URL referencing Asks (i.e. “I heard gallickingun did....”) ✘ Rule Non-Conforming Asks 

【LINKS】

✰ desktop masterlist «here» ✰ mobile masterlist «here» ✰ general writing tag «here» ✰ archiveofourown «here» ✰ wattpad «here» ✰ commissions interest form «here» ✰ ko-fi «here» ✰ patreon (coming soon!) «here» ✰ bnha bookclub (discord server + fic archive) «here»

This is all subject to change, hence the read more.

© all content belongs to gallickingun 2020. do not modify or repost.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ 

[tirednotflirting]

you're a sky full of stars

hi this fic was actually the combination of like three different ideas but i think it works out okay.

it’s more soft jalex bc we love soft jalex in this house

here it is on ao3 !

Alex’s flight is delayed.

It makes sense. He had sent Jack a picture of the snow-dusted pasture outside his window when he was getting ready to head for the airport so Jack had expected his early afternoon flight might be delayed by a little bit so the plane could be prepared to fly through the cold air. But a five hour delay was much longer than he originally anticipated.

All afternoon Jack had tried to busy himself with cleaning up a little more and a trip to the grocery store in between getting sad selfies from his boy in an airport Dunkin with updates on his flight time. Each one brought a bittersweet smile to his face because while he was sad he had to wait longer to have Alex in front of him, it was impossible to not smile at his pouty puppy dog eyes. Jack was certain he was sending the dramatic look on purpose, always trying to do something to make Jack smile. It was just one of the many reasons he was entirely head over heels.

The sun set a couple hours ago though and now Jack is camping out on his couch, staring out the big window in his living room, watching tiny blinking lights cross the sky and waiting for Alex’s flight to be one that catches his eye. It’s the closest he can get to stargazing in Los Angeles (the irony of the City of Stars being too bright to see the real ones isn’t lost on him) but it’ll have to do for now. The activity reminds him of Alex, as do most good and soft things in the world, and he can’t help but think about the last time he was at the farm.

It had been Alex’s idea to bundle up a bit and lay out a couple blankets in the front yard to watch the stars one night in October (Mars and Jupiter are going to be visible tonight. Jack, come on, this is important). He requests hot chocolate before they go out, which Alex happily makes and pours into a Thermos that Jack jokes he remembers from the high school lunch room. He lets Alex lay out all the blankets once they’re out there and after moving to sit, he pats the spot between his legs. Alex laughs but moves to take a seat, his back immediately relaxing to rest against Jack’s chest as his eyes drift up to the clear, cold skies. 

He points up into different spots across the night sky to provide direction on how to spot the planets and some constellations he looked up the stories for. Alex tells Jack the stories as well in his typical dramatic fashion while his fingers play with the strings of Jack’s hoodie. Something about the simple action feels so fond, Jack thinks, as one of his own hands lifts to pull Alex’s beanie back over his ear.

He’s just finished telling Jack a story about a guy called Orion, when Alex reaches for Jack’s hand and holds it against his chest. Jack can feel him sigh from the way his chest lifts below his hand. “I’m glad I did this.”

“What this are you referring to?” Jack questions as he slips his fingers into the spaces between Alex’s where they rest against his heart.

“Lots of stuff, I guess,” Alex says, his eyes still trained on the sky. “Decided on this place and the animals, agreed to the hot chocolate for tonight, fell for you. I’m just thankful the universe allowed for all of it, you know?”

Jack smiles easily at his words. He’s always been grateful to have Alex’s perspective on things be such a constant in his life. The world feels way too big and scary and it’s easy for Jack to feel like he’s getting lost in it. It’s his own reason for being so thankful to have the farm to visit from time to time. Jack likes the activity and pace of LA but he’s glad he has a place to head to where the rest of the world aside from his boy and a few goats and horses disappears. “Yeah, I think I do know.”

Alex turns then and resituates himself in Jack’s lap and Jack’s smile grows as he just barely makes out Alex’s in the minimal light provided from the porch light they left on when heading out. Alex leans forward to press his lips to Jack’s, the action obviously intended to be a short one and Jack finds himself laughing against his lips at the gasp Alex lets out as he lies back fully against the blanket. Alex pulls back but only far enough that their foreheads still rest together. “Excuse me, sir, that was not very safe.”

“I live on the edge, baby.” Jack teases back before pulling a giggling Alex closer against his chest to bring their lips back together.

* 

The stars that night had appeared in Jack’s dreams for weeks after that trip. The simple joys of the farm and the sky and Alex lived on a loop in Jack’s brain pretty much always until he could get back to the clean, brisk Maryland air. He sighs now as his eyes strain against the LA sky, searching pointlessly for even the tiniest glittering of a star. 

He could go to sleep, Jack tells himself, as another yawn leaves his lips. He’s been sat on the couch that faces the window for a few hours now, his fingers absent-mindedly strumming his guitar while he waits for a text with a selfie containing one of the LAX filters to tell him the plane has landed. 

He wills himself to get up and wander toward the kitchen to set out Alex’s favorite tea on the counter. He fills the kettle and leaves it on the stove so that way it’ll be ready for when he gets the notification so he can make a mug for Alex to have while he fills in Jack on the day and the writing session he had yesterday. A mug of tea will be the only thing Jack can use to get Alex to stay awake long enough to let him just listen to him for awhile, the sound of his voice, live and in person, always being something to warm Jack’s soul after they’ve been apart. 

Jack heads back to the couch then, determined to watch the sky until his phone buzzes. He blinks the spots away from his eyes as he takes a seat and pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his cold hands. He’s not used to getting tired this early. He used to live in some kind of nocturnal state, he’s pretty sure. It’s as he’s sitting there, lounging against the back of the plush couch and thinking on what could have caused this change in his lifestyle (he’s got an idea of a who rather than a what that has him wanting to settle down), that Jack’s eyes finally drop shut.

*

“Hey there, sunshine.” 

Jack’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Alex’s voice and he feels his heart melt a little at the view in front of his still open window. A beanie covers Alex’s head, pulled down over his ears to fight the rare cold night they were meant to be having in LA. He has yet to take off his jacket, evidence that he must have immediately come to find Jack after stepping through the front door. Alex is always an absolute vision to Jack but there’s something special about his first look at him after they’ve been away from one another for a while.

“You lost all rights to call me that after the last album,” Jack jokes lazily, his hand reaching up to cup Alex’s jaw, the familiar stubble against his palm making a blush and tired grin paint its way across his face. “I was gonna try to stay up for you. Was gonna try to figure out exactly when you would get up here so I could have a tea ready for you and everything.”

“It’s the thought that counts, my love,” Alex smiles, his face turning in Jack’s hand to press a kiss to his palm. “You can make me my tea in the morning if that’ll make you feel better?”

“Mmm, maybe.”

Alex laughs and his eyes light up some in the dull light coming from the entryway and that alone lets Jack consider this night a win, regardless of his tired mind not allowing him a better welcome home for his boy. (If he wasn’t so tired he probably would question how easily he called this place home for the both of them but it’ll have to wait until he’s had more and better sleep.) Alex leans closer and tucks a finger below Jack’s chin before brushing their lips together. “I need to shower off all the plane air but why don’t we go head upstairs and I’ll meet you in bed, yeah? We can catch up in the morning.”

Jack sighs because his tired brain knows that it’s a good plan but he was really looking forward to a catch up. He’s also not all that certain he’ll be able to fall asleep again that easily. “If I’m still awake when you’re done will you tell me more constellation stories?”

He watches Alex’s features soften impossibly more. “You want to hear more of my useless star stories?”

Jack shakes his head as he moves to stand, his hand reaching down for Alex’s so he can walk them in the direction of the bedroom. “They aren’t useless. Always love listening to you talk about your love for everything going on up above us. You always sound so excited.”

They stumble up the stairs, hands loosely linked together as Alex walks behind Jack, his free hand providing a guiding, comforting touch as Alex steers them down the hall. After entering the room, Jack falls into the mattress and behind him he can hear Alex laugh, the sound even more of a comfort than his favorite song. “Well in that case,” Alex starts and Jack lifts his head to watch a tired smirk pull at his lips. “On the plane, I read this really cool article about some of the zodiac constellations that I would love to share with the class.”

“I’m all ears, babe.”

Alex bites his lip as his eyes meet Jack’s from his spot leaning against the bathroom door frame. “Get ready for sleep then and I’ll be back in a few. Happy to be back. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Jack says back, his face half-smushed into a pillow. Alex winks and turns to close the door.

And though completely exhausted, Jack finds himself making the mental note that maybe the whole naming a star after Alex would actually be a good birthday present after all. Then maybe Jack can be the one to tell Alex a story. One about a boy who loved another boy enough that every night he filled the sky full of stars and their stories.

[scone-lover]

@findingniamho​

HAHAHAHA thank you so much for this ask!!! ❤️ This is exciting. Honestly the Egghead fight was one of the most entertaining scenes to write. (Coming up with all the puns was an egg-celent time.) Rereading it just now was like an out of body experience 😂 

Link to the original chapter here - passage & commentary below the cut!

So I have to start with how this scene was born. This is a Simon scene. He’s had a couple fight scenes with Vampire, but I wanted to show him off as the superhero of the city. What was he doing before Vampire appeared on the scene? What are his strengths and weaknesses? Despite the scene’s silliness, it’s also one of the first where we start to get a sense of what Mayor Mage is up to. 

So I knew I wanted him to do the typical defending-the-city thing, and showcase him and Penny as the dread companions power duo.

Besides the plot stuff, my main goal was to make this scene as ridiculously, stereotypically comic book-ish as possible. 😂Hence, Egghead the Villain.

Most of the credit for Egghead goes to my friend -- they’re really into DC and helped me with a lot of the plot stuff in this fic and making things semi-realistic. (Every time you read a clever plot point, it was probably them. 😂) For this non-Vampire fight, my friend suggested a gangster who was doing crimes and bribing the police. Hence this exchange--

“Okay, okay, um-- fuck. Did you call the police?” She huffs. “Yes, and I think they’ve been fucking bribed, because they pretended they didn’t even know who Egghead was! Can you believe that?”

I made him a repeat villain because honestly, I just thought it was more compelling that way. They know who he is already, Simon can grumble about him, they have egg-themed quips at the ready, etc. 😂 

As for the name, Egghead. I love how it came together because Simon is a baker, and I was able to work a couple baking jokes in there eventually. But in reality, it was me begging my superhero expert friend (named t below) to help me out with crafting this villain and coming up with some witty exchanges. A transcript of our conversation with the brainstorming and some of the rejects--

t: the gangster has a nickname right? he has to if he’s a supervillain t: make it a gimmick t: like if he has a red outfit call him mr. red or something t: he has a flamethrower and call him dragon (this made it in, later) me: Vampire already has a flamethrower t: they can be forced to fight him together me: Vampire is at home studying bc he’s a NERD t: ok he can be bald and simon can call him egghead me: THANKS I HATE IT t: simon throws him on the ground at the end of the fight - that was over-easy me: I hate you where do you get this shit t: I mean it’s typical superhero stuff t: he wears yellow and white and deals crack me: This fic is so food themed I love it t: that’s your villain. that’s it. t: listen, if the Flash can have an ice skating villain, YOU CAN HAVE EGGHEAD. And he was born.

(And yes, The Flash does have an ice skating villain. AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ICE POWERS.)

Okay, let’s do this! Warning that this is definitely going to go through more than 500 words of the chapter. 😂 

Men dressed in black suits with bright yellow pocket squares. And larger men around the perimeter, wearing grey and holding flashlights. It looks more like a business transaction than anything; there are briefcases and money being passed back and forth, hands being shaken. “Hey!” I call. There are six men, and they all turn to stare at me, and then make a run for it. The flashlight beams dart wildly and I hear a few of them clatter to the floor. Everyone starts yelling at once and looking for an escape.

I basically watched an episode of Brooklyn-99 and crafted the warehouse drug deal based on that. 

“Don’t move. There’s only one exit,” Penny says in my ear. “And you’re standing in front of it.” I stand my ground, but no one comes near me. The suited guys stay slightly behind the muscular ones. Finally, one of them steps forward. “Mage’s Head Boy. Come to tell us off?”

This scene was also an opportunity to have Penny in Simon’s ear! I wanted them to work together more closely than just talking about superhero stuff - I wanted Penny to be invaluable to Simon’s superhero success and in on the action, too. She’s kind of modeled after Oracle from Batman throughout this fic. 

Mage’s Head Boy is a pretty transparent CO reference. 

There are times when I’m grateful for my ability to just have muscles and growl at people and make them disappear, and there are times when I wish I was witty like Vampire. This is definitely the second. I can’t think of a response to that. Luckily, I have a best friend with a head full of wit. “Tell them to fuck off,” Penny says. Then again, maybe not. What would Vampire say? I get hot and frustrated in the face of danger. He seems to get cooler the higher the stakes get. I fall into a fighting stance. “You wish.” The guy takes a step backwards. “But since I can’t bring you to the police, I suppose I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.” “That was good,” Penny says in my ear.

I obviously had to work a bit of Baz jealousy / crushing into this. I like the idea of Penny being super blunt. She’s smart and sometimes witty, but more often she just says it like it is. “Cooler the higher the stakes get” was a direct reference to the similar line in Carry On. With Simon’s last line - this scene was all about showcasing him as a “typical” superhero that you’d find in a comic, fighting a classic comic book villain. So I gave him one of those cheesy lines.

I’m surrounded. There must be fifteen or twenty of them. Eight huge muscular guys, and the rest in suits. They form a loose circle around me. Almost all of them wield knives, but I don’t see any guns so far.

I knew from the outset I wanted this to be a one-against-many fight. At this point in the story I’d set up a good dynamic for Blade vs Vampire, but not so much Blade vs. other city threats. What makes him a trustworthy hero? Simon’s origin story is that he got news attention by fighting off a group - so putting him in this group fight setting was a chance for him to shine.

A man steps out from the shadows. He’s bald, with a straight, dark mustache, and he’s wearing a pristine white suit and a shirt the colour of an egg yolk. “Egghead,” I say in what I hope is a threatening tone. The name sounds absurd. I’m glad the mask covers my mouth, because I don’t think I can keep a straight face. Penny coughs. Benedict Eggerton, better known as Egghead, is a drug lord who wears yellow and deals… crack. (I know.) (He got into crime early; his parents were poachers.) (Okay, I made that one up. I can’t help it.) I put him in jail earlier this year, but he escaped and fled north.

I was laughing so hard while writing this. You can see in the text exchange above where the suit and nickname came from. I was trying to come up with what his first name might be (my first idea was Sunny). I was so amused when I finally thought of Benedict. 😂 The poachers line is also from my friend T, and the “north” is a reference to Scotland, which comes back later as the Scotch Egg joke.

I draw my weapon, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I remember your blade being bigger,” he says, eyeing my kitchen knife. “Is it too cold for you in here?”

PFFFFFT I LOVE THIS JOKE okay so. I originally made Simon forget his sword because I thought the fight would be too easy - and going back to what I said above, he’s kind of returning to his “roots” with this fight - that spark he has that makes him a hero. And then I wrote the line “I remember your blade being bigger.” TO BE CLEAR, this was not originally intended as an innuendo. 

And then my friend said something like ‘he should turn up the heating in this warehouse then’, and I was like OH DING DING DING PENIS JOKE! 😂I’m oblivious sometimes. I’m glad I realized in time because this is honestly one of my favorite villain lines I’ve ever written.

I really, really wanted to give the “too cold” line to Vampire. It would be perfect for him. But Simon always has his normal sword with Vamp, so Egghead it was. And he instantly became an icon. 😂 

I twirl the knife between my fingers. “I can crack you anyway.” “Good effort,” Penny whispers. “But a bit rough on the delivery. 'Take a crack at you' might have been better...” “Sword or no sword,” I continue, “you’ll be an egg wash by the end of this.” “What?” Penny says. “Is that a baking reference?” Egghead cracks his knuckles, and his men rush me.

Much like Penny does later in the scene, I had a tab open of egg-related words up while writing this. I had to work in the baking reference. But a terrible one. There’s a French term for whisking eggs that basically translates to “beating eggs into snow” - and I wish it was a thing in English, because, you know, Simon Snow. Oh well. 😂 

I Google a list of ways to make eggs. Simon needs to win this fight, but more importantly, he needs to get some egg-themed one-liners in there to show them who’s boss. Chances like this don’t come around very often. 

Listen, Penny is very dedicated. I love the idea of heroes just being quick-witted and coming up with these ridiculous quips on demand. But ultimately, I thought it was funnier - and more in character for Penny - to do this. (Even though her Superhero name is Quickwit, oops.) She has the world of Google at her disposal. Egg puns may not seem important, but superhero image and reputation is half the battle.

Simon is being attacked from all angles, but he fights like a whirlwind. The bulky guys attack first, mostly with their fists. Simon kicks their legs out from under them. He throws them across the floor like they weigh nothing. “Behind you!” I say. Simon spins around and disarms the man behind him, twisting his arm, and I hear a shout through my earbuds. He grabs the guy’s knife and kicks him in the stomach, sending him sprawling. Simon Snow faces fifteen men with nothing but two knives, looking like he’s ready to explode.

I loved writing this from Penny’s POV. I am used to writing fight scenes from the POV of the person fighting, so this was definitely a cool challenge. It’s part of why I brought Penny into the scene in the first place - so I could show Simon in third person. Almost like we’re watching a movie and getting some overhead shots. From his POV, you don’t realize quite how awesome he is. So getting to showcase him like this was really fun.

I still have to wonder how Shepard knew… well, everything. 

Don’t tell anyone but I didn’t know yet either

“He’s Scottish,” I tell Simon. “Scotch Egg.”

I know. This one’s bad.

He’s a blur of gold and white in motion. He throws his knife—I have no idea where he learned to do that—and it embeds itself in one of the men’s legs. He rolls across the floor, picking up two more discarded knives.

I don’t do a ton of plotting/outlining with fight scenes, but one thing I decide in advance is where and how everyone gets hurt. I didn’t want Simon to win the fight too easily, but I did need to injure him somehow. So it wouldn’t be too easy, but also to serve as a counterpoint to the socks thing later.

I watched a lot of action sequences to write this fic, especially with the trickier one vs. many scenes. 

Simon tosses him like a sack of flour.

Couldn’t resist the baker!Simon reference.

“Hard or soft boiled,” I whisper. “Which way is it gonna be, Egghead? Hard or soft boiled?” Simon shouts. He whispers to me, “That was stupid.” Egghead raises an eyebrow. “Last chance to leave us alone, Blade.” I consult my list of egg dishes. “Give up before you get scrambled.” Simon twirls his blades. I love it when he does that; he looks like Deadpool. “It’s your last chance to surrender before you get scrambled.”

I loved the hard or soft boiled line at first. And then I wrote it down and said it out loud, just to check, and it sounded SO DUMB. 😂I almost took it out, but then figured—Simon is probably not going to think this through, either.

Maybe the Deadpool line was a bit on the nose here, but I wanted to give readers some really vivid imagery of what Simon looks like right now with these dual wicked blades kitchen knives.

“I prefer my eggs… poached,” he says. 

Even though Egghead has turned out to be quite a serious villain—there are guns, drugs, and a backstory—he is, after all, original master of the egg puns. He would never turn down this opportunity.

Egghead scrambles (ha) to his feet

I think Penny is just me in this.

“Over-easy,” I whisper.

“That was over-easy,” he says.

Not my best. But it had to be in there.

I’ll skip the serious bits, since the plot there is pretty self-explanatory, to this:

I wish he’d asked what we serve, because I have so many egg puns at the ready. Eggs-ecution. Hash-ing out justice. Karma served hard.  

My beta ashspren gave me this line, and I could not be more grateful. Imagine the chapter without this. It would be a shame.

Here are a few egg puns that didn’t make the cut, SADLY:

You're washed out, egghead

*Egghead gets angry* hey, it was just a yolk

I had to go "beat" some eggs

*uppercut* Sunny side UP!

I'll bash in your Eggnoggin’

Some people are just bad eggs

Sorry this is so long—this has been a purely self-indulgent experience. Thanks so much for this ask, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it! ❤️ 

[famedexclusivearchive]

[ARTICLE] BC, DIMENSIONS, AND GOLD STAR RUMORED TO HOST SECOND JOINT STAFF RETREAT

Industry sources have revealed that BC Entertainment, Dimensions Entertainment, and Gold Star Media are hosting a second annual joint retreat and workshop. The three companies previously held a joint retreat last June in Hawaii and insiders claim the companies are looking within Korea this year. Though the exact location and the exact dates of the retreat could not be confirmed, sources state the location was suggested by both Gold Star CEO Bang Sunyoung and Dimensions Entertainment creative director Choi Dongwook, though none of the company executives will be able to attend the retreat themselves this year. 

EVENT INFORMATION:

After the success of last year’s retreat in Hawaii, all idols and key staff members from the three companies have been invited on a joint retreat at a healing and wellness resort in the mountains of Gangwon Province, South Korea! All idols will leave by bus from Seoul on the morning of June 19 and the trip to the resort will take approximately two hours. There will be six buses total, with three buses reserved for the idols to travel in. Idols will be sorted onto buses by arrival time, so they may not be on the same bus as their group mates or label mates.

Attendance is considered mandatory, so if there’s a reason your muse wouldn’t be able to attend the retreat, please clear it with the admin first.

From the morning of June 19 to the afternoon of June 22, everyone will be staying at a resort nestled in the mountains of Gangwon. Idols will be sleeping in suites of three people to a room. Roommates will be chosen by random card draw, so idols may end up sharing with people they don’t know, though all roommates will be same-sex and idols will only room with other idols, not staff. Roommates can be plotted among muns as long as no more than two members of the same group are in the same room. There will be three full-size beds to a room. Room design visuals can be found here, here, and here.

Each night, idols can choose to go on a group hike to go camping in the mountains in tents at an organized camping area if they’d like to sleep in the outdoors instead. Each idol will be limited to doing this only one night out of the trip.

The resort is advertised as a natural and relaxing escape from the rush of everyday life, so the cellphone and internet connection is quite bad though not entirely unavailable. There are no televisions or computers provided on the resort campus and activities available at the resort are focused on practices considered healing and relaxing. The resort does not have room service, but it does have a cafeteria building where personal chefs cook organic, healthy meals curated by expert nutritionists. No alcohol is served at the resort and it is strongly discouraged to drink or smoke on resort property, though it would not be impossible for attendees to smuggle such things in in their luggage.

Visual references of the style of the resort can be found at the following links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. The campus of the resort also features all of the following spread across several different buildings, which are open 24 hours:

A swimming pool and a thermal pool

A library of books and LP records and a reading area

A sauna

A spa, massage, and meditation center

An indoor flower garden

A water garden

An outdoor terrace with a view of the mountains

A bonfire area

A hammock area

A fitness center with a rock climbing wall

A cafe

A music hall

Organic farming center

Several mountain hiking trails of varying lengths

The following classes are also offered in small groups each day:

Organic home gardening

Cooking

Rock climbing

Yoga / aerial yoga / paddleboard yoga (in pool)

Pilates

Archery

Coffee brewing

Meditation / active meditation / sound meditation

Art (painting, pottery, jewelry making)

The entire resort has been rented out for the trip, so only those associated with BC, Dimensions, or Gold Star will be at the resort during the stay.

Idols will be allowed to explore the resort and its surrounding area at their leisure, but there will also be activities specifically highlighted in activity brochures given to each attendee (including the aforementioned classes as well as hiking and traditional tea ceremonies) alongside mandatory events specific to the companies’ retreat that can be found below. One night and one afternoon of the trip have mandatory company events with an optional group event on an additional night, but idols may explore the area freely the rest of the time. Managers will not be on clock for the trip, but idols will still face punishment if they misbehave in a way that reflects negatively on the company in the presence of resort staff. All currently promoting groups/soloists will have pre-recorded their music show stages before leaving for Gangwon

Everyone will leave in the late afternoon of June 22 by bus back to Seoul following the group picnic.

Idols are not allowed to post to social media about the retreat until the retreat is over to avoid any fans finding their location and attempting to trespass on resort property.

Scheduled Activities Overview: (attendance is mandatory for all *except open mic night* unless muse is injured/ill)

June 19: Bonfire. After everyone has settled into their rooms and had a chance to explore the wellness resort, a bonfire will be held at the bonfire area of the resort. Staff will not be present at the bonfire, as they have another scheduled bonding event. The bonfire won’t be structured, but attendees are welcome to talk, play games, roast food, and other bonfire activities. After the bonfire ends, anyone who would like to take the hike up into the mountains to camp under the stars will be given the opportunity to do so (though this option is available every night).

June 20: Free day/night. 

June 21: Open mic. This activity is optional. Any interested attendees may attend an open mic night to unwind on this night at the music hall. Attendees are free to perform music for the other attendees, read poetry, do comedy, etc. Signing up attend of time is not required, though it is an option. Attendees may team up for duets or group performances with any other attendee if they wish, but no one will be given more than ten minutes on the mic. A baby grand piano, an acoustic guitar, a tambourine, and a recorder will be available for use for musical performances as well as a sound system. Performers shouldn’t do anything too raunchy as they are in mixed company, but as these are private performances for fun and relaxation, they have a lot of freedom. Anyone interested in watching may come and go from the event as they please.

June 22: Picnic. On the last day of the retreat, all attendees will have an outdoor picnic together for lunch before leaving to return to Seoul. Every attendee will be given a lunch basket of fresh foods including meat, rice, vegetables, and fruit prepared by the resort’s personal chefs.

Overall:

In game, this event takes place on from Friday, June 19, to Monday, June 22, but threads and other posts for this event may be started from Sunday, June 7, at 12PM EDT (the time this post goes up), to Saturday, July 4, at 11:59PM EDT. Threads may be continued past the end date, but must be started before then and are no longer eligible for points past the end date. Non-event related interactions may be conducted during this time as well.

NOTE: All posts related to the event should be tagged #fmdwellnessretreat. Remember to use #fmdcall if you want to post a plot or starter call for the event, which I encourage everyone to do if they’d like to!

POINTS AVAILABLE:

As with all events, there are special points up for grabs.

INTERACTIONS: Having an event thread with a starter and at least three replies (starter ▻ partner reply  ▻ op reply  ▻ partner reply) by the end of the event is worth 2 points. This is valid for up to ten threads this time and the threads can take place during any part of the event.

INTERACTIONS: Having an event thread going with someone your muse has never had an interaction with before is worth 1 additional point for each thread.

INTERACTIONS: Posting an open starter for the event is worth 2 points. This counts for up to one open thread starter (not a text/sms post) per character.

PLAYLIST: Making a playlist of seven or more songs matching your muse’s idea of a ‘relaxation’ or a ‘wellness’ playlist is worth 2 points not counting toward your monthly playlist limit.

PROMPT: Upon gathering for the picnic on the final day of the trip, all muses are handed a new simple, bound journal. A resort staff member speaks up when everyone has arrived for the picnic, giving a brief talk on the importance of self-reflection as a part of a “continuing wellness journey”. Everyone is then given half an hour of silence in nature to write the first entry in their newly gifted journal as a self-reflection on their current state and place in life. Completing this prompt in a self-para of 400+ words is worth 3 points not counting toward your monthly self-para limit.

You can also earn the normal amount of points through writing additional self-paras, etc. related to the event!

If anything in this post is unclear or you have any questions, please feel free to contact the admin. Please like this post to let me know you read it!

[kashimos-hajime]

Hi! So I have a question, I’m a new writer to some fandoms and I was wondering if you had any advice on how to become a more well known writer / achieve more notes on works as a new writer in fandoms. I love writing and I really don’t put my stuff out solely for notes but, when I put effort into fics I just wish more people would reblog or comment, and I just wish I knew a better way to make my blog “bigger” or more well known :/

hi!!! welcome to writing for fandoms. it ain’t much but it’s fun. here’s some advice i can give to you below the cut :) this is all my opinion/my experience so keep that in your mind when you read.

1. tags are your best friend: exploit every tag relating to your content as possible. only the first 20 show up in the tags when people search them up so use those wisely. after you post, it’s also a good idea to just check that it showed up in the tags. most of the time, they do but it’s just good to double check.

2. links kill your posts: unless you’re certain that your stuff will show up, more often than not, links to other posts/websites will cause your post not to show up. it’s stupid but it’s how tumblr works now which is really annoying.

3. participate in writing challenges: a good way to get your name spread is by participating in a lot of writing challenges and to keep track of which ones youve entered. besides being an incredibly nice way to get feedback, more people see it. it’s also really fun to write with a specific prompt or song in mind.

4. interact with your community: if you have time, read some fics and reblog them, follow some other writing blogs. i have mutuals that i don’t talk to but i greatly enjoy seeing their blog on my dash and i tag them in things im tagged in for games. i try to respond to most of the reblogs/comments i get and all the asks i receive. if you think you can handle doing requests, inform your followers that they’re open and have them send stuff in or reblog prompt lists. don’t be afraid to be who you are on your blog bc most of the time, people follow you for the writing but there are a few who follow you for who you are as a blog owner as well. it’s about the personality too. sometimes, you can remind them at the end of the fic to leave a reblog/comment just to remind them after they’re done reading :)

5. keep an updated masterlist or a place where someone can find all your stuff easily: this is including drabbles, headcanons, etc. someone is more likely to follow if they know they can find your masterlist post that could be linked in your bio or a certain tag they can search up to find all of your stuff. it’s just easier to navigate. make it easily accessible!

6. timezone reblogs: SUPER helpful because when you post, only a certain amount of people will see it due to timezones. i normally reblog every 4 hours and schedule them onto my blog to be posted while i sleep as well. this is super helpful for keeping your work rotating through different tumblr user’s blogs and reach more people who might not have seen it otherwise bc they were busy, asleep, etc. also helps keep your work in the tags bc it boosts your notes. (i have examples of how i do timezone reblogs. you can search it up)

7. it’s your blog: write for whoever you feel like, in whatever genre, and do whatever you want. don’t be afraid to be multifandom and don’t think you have to write for a certain character or under a certain word limit for it to be successful. although there are certain popular characters that people are more likely to read and readers often like shorter fics full of fluff and smut and such, you can write whatever you want. i write angst A LOT even though my fluffier fics have done better. and that’s what i think is my trademark: super long fics and a lot of angst. it’s up to you to do what you want which leads to my next point.

7.5. remember that you can curate your own style and niche for your blog. if readers know you write for these characters, know your interests, they’ll be more likely to follow you. for example, i’ve gained more harry potter-related blogs as followers even though i have never posted hp writing on here that was like a one-shot or anything. i’ve just started reblogging hp content recently. some of my followers reblog the witcher posts that i reblog as well. some followers dont even follow me for my writing.

8. on a more aesthetic note/relating to 5: keep your posts tidy. make sure they’re fomatted correctly bc pasting from your writing app to tumblr is sometimes hell, and just make sure you always doublecheck your work. no one wants to read a big chunk of text or paragraphs that are single-spaced. there’s the trend where writers often add gifs/pictures to their posts which catches a reader’s eye and helps with the visual.

9. it takes time: don’t keep your expectations too high. sometimes, the thing you work for months on won’t do well and other things you worked on for like 20 mins will do extremely well. that’s just how life works sometimes. lately, tumblr has sucked at keeping likes/reblog ratio even at all and mostly, you’ll get more likes than reblogs/comments. it’ll suck, but at the end of the day, they’re the consumers. they respond to your fic how they see fit. but you’ll grow. sometimes you’ll have bursts of followers, sometimes they trickle in. mostly, once you get rolling, you sometimes get those bursts after you post a fic and people begin t o see it. lately, i’ve been getting a few followers a day and it slowly builds up. seriously, don’t worry about the “followers” number even though sometimes it’s all you can think about. one day, you’ll check and be pleasantly surprised by how many people follow you.

10. it’s mostly how much you write sometimes: i’m sure if i posted more i’d gain more followers but as it is, i write like one fic a month bc they’re normally on the longer side and burn me out pretty easily since i work on other writing projects beside the stuff i post on here and i am a senior in high school who is just tryna graduate at this point. potential followers like a blog that puts out work. however, this doesn’t mean force yourself to write. if you wanna get big, you also wanna present quality work that you’re proud of.

11. i’d say lastly, though this is not so important and therefore the last but not least platitude falls flat here, is that keep your blog active. i do this by keeping a queue running from 2am to 12pm aka from night to day. it’s just nice to be a presence on your followers dashes which keeps you present in their minds.

this is all i could think of but i hope this helps!! if you have any more questions, need any clarification, or anything of the sort, please don’t hesitate to send another ask or pm me.

[mcwriting]

Ready, Set, Go (Pt. 2 of AFTR)

     Alright so here’s the requested (and promised) sequel/continuation of A Flight to Remember. I know my ship list mentions that I wouldn’t do multi-part stuff (mostly bc idk how to link them haha) but I’ll put this under the AFTR tag too so it shouldn’t be hard to find. There will be a part 3. Without further ado, here you are!

Fandom: Marvel-ish

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (Tom is mentioned, but doesn’t appear in this part, but did in pt 1 and will in pt 3!)

Setting: Unnamed smallish U.S. city from the first part of this

Word Count: 1,302

Warnings: None?

Rating: K/K+

Background: Aight so y'all can probably already tell that you can get most of the bg to this in the first part so probably check that out before you read this one. Didn’t mention this in the first part, but reader is probably 19 or 20, so not at the legal drinking age in America sorry. Also referenced but not mentioned in the original, but this is set in a timeline starting on a Wednesday and the dinner is Thursday (idk why it’s just what I went with)

*y/f/n is your friend’s name 

     You got home no more than ten minutes after leaving what you were now calling the “Holland Crew.” You were also already planning what you would wear and do tomorrow night for dinner. 

The first person you called was your friend to let her know why the text you sent her from the airport was incomplete. You explained how you met the boys but chose to leave out the whole “going to dinner at your favorite casual restaurant tomorrow night with your all time celebrity crush” thing. You knew that if you told her, she would tell others who lived in your town who would probably show up at the restaurant just for a photo op, and you knew that would be a bad experience for everyone. 

“Omg!! Y/n! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Seriously? I left the airport ten minutes ago! What more do you want?”

You also felt the need to call your parents about it, since they too were out of town, leaving you home alone until Sunday. It was only right that they knew you would be hanging with technical strangers, and that these “strangers” were incredibly famous.

Just as you expected, your mother worried about you going out with 3 young British men while your dad congratulated you for making a Hollywood hottie swoon over you.

Once finishing your conversations, you hopped into the shower to get the grimy feeling of traveling off your body and to wash the hair that you could feel getting more oily by the minute under your hat.

After your long, much needed, shower, you slowly dressed and decided to let your hair air dry. You figured that being home alone had its perks, and this was one of them. Air drying your hair was a daunting task that often took at least an hour, but you knew you wanted to straighten your hair again tomorrow and blow drying it would put your hair under too much stress.

The hour it took for your hair to dry consisted of dancing around your house excitedly once the fact that you had met, and were going to dinner with, Tom Holland and his little crew had set in. Towards the end of that hour, you saw a notification from an unknown number show up on your phone.

“Hey, y/n! It’s Harrison (aka Haz, for future reference) and I just wanted to discuss tomorrow night with you some more. Tom can’t stop talking about you ;) P.S. I got your number from his phone, so don’t be weirded out by this when you see it.”

You smiled to yourself as you added Haz to your contacts list. It wasn’t every day you got to say you had the phone numbers of two well-known actors, not that you’d be sharing them anytime soon, though. You sat down on the couch to reply to Harrison, detailing the next night’s events and asking Harrison for his opinion on how you should dress.

“Come on man! It’s not every day you get the cute boy’s wingman/bff on your side!! You know his type!”

“Y/n, if he truly likes someone, he has absolutely no care whether she’s in old sweats or a cocktail dress. Though he does like a little bit of leg…”

With that, you decided on the navy floral halter dress you had been saving to wear for a date. It wasn’t anything skimpy, only hitting just above the knees, but it was sleeveless and flowed out a little at the bottom, which complimented your body well. You hung the dress up and set below it a pair of flat, white sandals that paired well with the look. You weren’t one for heels, mostly because you enjoyed the freedom of movement without them, but also because there was many a time where you had humiliated yourself in them. 

You turned in early that night, hoping that a full night’s rest would leave you glowing the next day.

You awoke at 8:34 a.m. on Thursday and rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom as always. Once out, you checked your phone for new messages. There were at least 20, all from only 3 friends. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, your friend you had called yesterday had obviously let these 3 girls know, and they couldn’t believe what they had heard.

“OMG!! Y/N! WHY DIDNT YOU CALL ME??? I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR BFF?”

“GIRL. You met TOM HOLLAND?? AND DIDNT TELL ME?!?”

“Omg y/f/n just told me you met Tom Holland and I swear to God if she was lyin…”

You rolled your eyes and replied to each about how yesterday was tiring and all you wanted to do was come home and sleep. They definitely couldn’t know about tonight. One invited you to dinner tonight to tell them all about yesterday, so you covered, saying how your parents were gone and wanted you to clean up the house while you were home alone, and you would need to catch up on work stuff before Monday rolled around. You hated lying to your friends, even if some of what you said was true. (Your parents had been serious about cleaning up the house)

You checked the clock, which read 8:58.

T minus 10 hours until you saw the boys again, so obviously you needed to start getting ready.

You started by doing your hair, a task that also took quite a bit of time. You turned on the TV for background noise as you began straightening your hair in layers. At the half-way point, you took a break to toast yourself a bagel and grab a sparkling water for breakfast. Once finishing on your hair, you went to work cleaning up the living room for your parents. By the time you were done, it was almost 11:00. Only 8 hours left to prepare for the night. 

You spent those 8 hours overthinking everything, from what you would say to how early you would show up to the restaurant to the underwear you were planning on wearing beneath your dress.

At 4:00, you touched up your hair and swiped on some mascara and a little bit of foundation. You were never one to wear makeup, and most of the time you opted to just not wear it. Even though the boys had seen you 100% makeup-less yesterday, it still felt nice to do yourself up just a little bit to raise your spirits. 

You dressed yourself at 5:45, finally deciding on that one strapless bra and those black underwear for a confidence boost. You waited until 6:30 to strap on your sandals, seeing as you wouldn’t need to leave the house until 6:40 and you honestly preferred being barefoot above anything else.

You gave yourself another once-over in the mirror before checking your little cross-body purse to make sure you had your wallet, phone, keys, and anything else you might need for an emergency. After that, you were off to the restaurant, your mind buzzing and left foot tapping against the floorboard as you tried to keep your right root from flooring the pedal out of anxiousness.

You sat in your car and gave one last deep breath once you had pulled into the parking lot, heart racing faster than you could ever remember before. It wasn’t just the fact that you were meeting your celebrity crush and his equally amazing pals for dinner tonight that got you; it was the fact that you hadn’t been on a date in quite a while and you knew you were probably just a little rusty.

With that thought, you pushed open the door, and headed off towards the front of the building, ready to dive into what would hopefully be the best night of your life.

A/N: Haha wow am I the worst or what? I know this totally didn’t even feature Tom but don’t worry, the next part will. I decided to make this more than a two-shot like I had planned because I just had too many ideas to cram it into two parts. I hope to get the next (and maybe final??) part out within the coming week, but we shall see. Tbh I’ll probably end up doing what I did with this one and write the first 3 words tonight after I post and then not finish until 9 pm next Sunday wHOoPs.

Love y'all thanks for reading xoxo 

[rapmonster-notdancemonster-blog]

Kaisoo; Copycat pt. 2

part one

Sorry about the long wait y’all. I went to the Monsta X concert last Sunday and then all this week I had Chinese class, and I just took my final for the class. With the extra free time I sat down to write out this chapter. Enjoy :)

~ Δ ~ Kyungsoo’s comment section on his latest post on instagram explodes with fans saying that a fan-war broke between the Soos (Kyungsoo’s fans) and Ninis (Jongin’s fans) on instagram and twitter. Kyungsoo is known for his sweet, melodic voice and Jongin is a promising dancer who takes cute selcas every single day. The Soos accuse Jongin of imitating Kyungsoo, as he always uploads dance covers of the songs that Kyungsoo covers a day after Kyungsoo releases them. Feeling sorry, Kyungsoo leaves a private message on Jongin’s twitter.

~ Δ ~ Shy!Kyungsoo, Straightforward!Jongin

~ Δ ~ The title is pending bc I had Paradise by Millic ft FanxyChild on repeat while I was writing this. If anyone has any suggestions to what I could rename it as, pls do tell :)

~ Δ ~ Warnings: Rated T for sexual references and language

~ Δ ~ 1332 words 

~ Chapter Two ~

          That morning Kyungsoo sat at the head of his wooden table, coffee mug in hand. His expression, painted with self control and complete composure stared at the laptop seated in front of him; Twitter browser opened up to his home feed. He brought up his mug up to plush lips, glasses fogging up with condensation as he left it there. Letting the warm and welcoming aroma hit his nose, he exhaled with content, sipped, and set it back down gently in its coaster. He sat patiently waiting for his glasses to clear up, and thought about what he was about his next move.

         It’s the right thing to do. I need to get in contact with Jongin.

         Jongin. Jongin. Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. Just his name sent a small tremor up Kyungsoo’s spine. Flashes of the dancer’s smirk appeared in his mind and a small pink hue tinted his cheeks.  Shaking his head, he decided to put his mind to use. He quietly cracked his fingers and rolled his neck, feeling a bit too stiff. Looking again at the laptop screen, he quickly typed in “jongin” into the search bar, hoping for something to pop up. And boy, it did. Fan pages, daily picture accounts, body appreciation pages (that Kyungsoo totally did not click on) and so on. Deciding to take this to Google, seeing as he couldn’t find any official account, he types in “jongin dancer twitter” and is relieved to see that the first result is said dancer’s twitter account.

         Now anxious, Kyungsoo quickly clicks on the link, sending him back to the twitter website, and is met with the smiling face of Jongin and Fuck, Kyungsoo thinks.

         “He’s gorgeous.” He whispers to no one, face flushing. Clearing his throat he scrolls down the feed and sees cute selca after cute selca, posted daily. The more he scrolled, the more his infatuation grew - not that he’d ever admit it to himself. Bless him, he smiles, mirroring a smiling Jongin in a recent picture. Deciding that it was creepy to stalk his profile like how he was, he knew it was time. Opening the Jongin’s DM’s he started typing carefully:

         Good Morning. My name is Do Kyungsoo and I know you probably don’t know who I am, or maybe you do but anyways: sorry to bother you like this, but I feel like I have an issue to clear with you. It’s not that I’m accusing you of anything, on the contrary I believe that creativity should be shared and the internet is a platform created for broadcasting and showcasing talents of all kinds, but I was just wondering if you were watching my videos and making them your own? Again, I’m not accusing you of anything, I just wanted to address this issue because many people are sending me messages through social media regarding correlation between our uploaded videos. When you have time please message me back.  

         Before he could regret it, he clicked enter. And took a deep breath, nodding at his attempt to sound controlled. Almost immediately though, the check-mark appeared at the bottom of the screen and Kyungsoo closed the tab fearing his life. Deep breaths Soo, he told himself, and gave himself a minute more of buffer time. Ready, he reopened his Twitter browser to already see a DM notification. Nervous, he clicked on the tab and read some of the conversation:

         Thank you for contacting me, I have been waiting for your….

         Waiting? For him? Jongin was waiting for him? He opened the chat:

         Thank you for contacting me, I have been waiting for your message. I too have been receiving messages from your fans and mine, and I have seen how bad some of them have gotten to be. I also apologize since it is true, I did copy your video songs. If I’m going to be honest with you, I’m not sorry about it either, in fact I had hoped you would notice some way or the other.

         Kyungsoo blinked. What? Who in the world…. Did he just admit…. He did, didn’t he? He just admitted to copying my videos. He read on:

         Truth is, I’m a fan of yours, scratch that, I’m a really big fan of yours. And I wanted to collaborate with you, but we’re on different sides of youtube so I’d figured I would need to do something big yet secretive so that if I did it a lot it wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. Whaddya say Hyung?

         “H-Hyung?” He repeats. Does he think he’s being cute? The corner of his mouth twitched. Okay, he is cute, but still what the fuck, you can’t just openly admit to something like that and then brush it off like it’s okay. He took another sip of his coffee. Hm? What’s this? Another message popped up.

         When are you free? I also live in Seoul.

         Excuse me??? Kyungsoo choked on his coffee. He quickly typed:

         How are you expecting me to willingly meet with you even though you went through this extreme of fanaticism?

         Because I went through this extreme of fanaticism for you to notice me, you should feel flattered.

         Kyungsoo scoffed, this Jongin is something else, if he weren’t so darn cute I would’ve told him to go fuck himself already.

         Besides, aren’t you at least a bit interested in me too? You must’ve seen my videos as well. Not to brag, but from one talented being to the other, my dancing must’ve been quite something if you had even bothered to look at it. I’m quite good aren’t I? ;)

         Is he flirting with me right now? The nerve of this man! Kyungsoo huffed, looking at the screen, his eyebrows furrowing. He sighed, knowing that he still needed to clear up this issue.

         I’m going to choose not to answer that last question. I am free today.

         I’d knew you’d come through Hyung! Do you know Cafe Dalssi in Gangnam? I’ll meet you at 3:00pm. I’ll get a booth in the back for us ;) See you there! <3

         Seeing the last text, Kyungsoo knew that the conversation had ended. Cafe Dalssi, of course he knew that place, it was one of his favourite cafes, did Jongin happen to know this already? Kyungsoo looked down at the watch resting on his left wrist, 11:29 am. This gave him quite a few hours to get ready for his day.

         Feeling his stomach grumbled softly, Kyungsoo blushed softly. How can small things like bodily function still make him feel shy? Grumbling at the loss in his cool, Kyungsoo stands up from his chair, heading over to the cupboards below his sink. Crouching down, he opens the cabinet and reaches for the cat food. “Toby~” He calls out, “where are you?~~”

         Upon smelling the food that would only appeal to animals, a large grey cat ran in through the living room into the kitchen. The cat meows affectionately, clearly loved by his owner and vice versa and Kyungsoo smiles. He cracks open the can and sets it carefully onto the floor next to Toby’s hard kiblets and water bowl. Smelling the pleasing salmon, Toby digs into his food and Kyungsoo pets his soft fur. I wonder if Jongin would like Toby...  He laughed, Right, more like would Toby like Jongin…

         But then he stopped laughing, where did that come from? Why would Jongin even meet Toby? Shrugging off the thought, he rose back to his full height and washed his hands in the sink. Walking to his room he grabbed for the laptop on his table and wondered what else he should do before their meeting.

         Little did Kyungsoo know that when he had been scoffing and huffing from Jongin’s texts, the said dancer had been hiding from the screen of his phone behind the human sized plushies on his bed, fanboying and anxiously waiting Kyungsoo’s replies. His eyes curved into half moons as he squealed in delight, the ends of his mouth tugging upwards revealing straight, white teeth.

part one

[tsukinocon]

AMV Contest Update

This took awhile to get confirmation for, but you can read all about the AMV Contest Here or below the cut!

2017 AMV Contest

Rules THE QUICK RULES

✦ Submit your videos to amv@tsukinocon.com with the following information:

✢ Anime: ✢ Song: ✢ Artist: ✢ Creator: (handle & email) ✢ Category: General, Action, Fun/Upbeat, Drama/Romance, or Comedy ✢ From: (where you live)

✦ Please submit your video via some sort of file sharing program. Our recommendation is Dropbox. ✦ Two (2) entries may be accepted per individual or group, to a maximum of one (1) per category. ✦ Videos must not have premiered publically (online, other cons, etc) prior to December 31, 2015, or have been shown in a previous Tsukino-Con AMV Contest. ✦ No bumpers or credits. MP4 less than 500MB is preferred. No technical defects.

THE FULL RULES * These are not yet fully updated on the Tsukino-Con site though they will be within the next few days and I will link that page at that time. In the meantime, this forum post is gospel!

The Tsukino-Con AMV Contest is one of Tsukino-Con’s largest events, airing for about 2-3 hours at the con. The event is a showcase of fan-made music videos submitted directly by creators both local and from all over the world where you, the audience, get to vote on your favourites. The contest is open to anyone—amateurs, professionals, and everyone in between.

The deadline for submissions is: Sunday, February, 5th 2017, at 11:59PM PST.

CATEGORIES

Videos will be sorted into five categories: 1. General 2. Action 3. Fun/Upbeat 4. Drama/Romance 5. Comedy 6. Best of BC Please note that these categories may be subject to adjustments depending on videos submitted.

GUIDELINES & REQUIREMENTS Before you submit a video to the Tsukino-Con AMV Contest, please make sure it complies with our video requirements:

✦ Videos must not have premiered publically (online, other cons, etc) prior to December 31, 2015, or have been shown in a previous Tsukino-Con AMV Contest. ✦ Videos must be PG-13 and suitable for a con audience. Any songs with excessive swearing or anime footage with explicit nudity/violence/inappropriate themes will not be accepted. ✦ Videos must be between one (1) and six (6) minutes in length. ✦ Two (2) entries may be accepted per individual or group, to a maximum of one (1) per category. Submitting as part of a group counts as a submission for each individual. ✦ Videos must be 80% Japanese anime/manga or game footage. ✦ No credits, bumpers or trailers. ✦ No subtitles, watermarks, text, etc, though exceptions may be made if they are added by the creator as part of the video. ✦ All videos must be submitted by the original creator. Any submissions found to be in violation of this will not be accepted and you will be disqualified from participating in future contests. ✦ All AMVs must meet the technical requirements below.

TECHNICAL REQUIREMENTS We will accept a variety of formats, but recommend the following. If for whatever reason we’re not able to work with the format you’ve submitted, we’ll contact you as soon as possible so that you can re-submit. If you can’t resubmit within 48 hours of the deadline your submission will be disqualified.

No low-resolution entries. 1280×720 or greater is suggested. No audio or video quality defects (interlacing, blurring, distortion, low sample rate, etc). Suggested container is MP4. Maximum file size of 500MB.

BEST OF BC REQUIREMENTS Best of BC is a new category, exclusive to local AMV makers based in British Columbia. This category was created with the intent to help foster growth within our local community to create the next wave of AMV makers. This is an open category accepting all of the previously listed categories above. As a BC creator, you can choose to submit your video for its consideration in another category in addition to Best of BC. However, if your video is deemed a finalist, it will only be a finalist in one of the available categories, as deemed by the judges. Not all BC videos are guaranteed entrance to the final contest, especially if technical aren’t met, however , all BC videos will be shown during exhibition at some point in the convention (more info to come). All AMV’s must meet these requirements for submission:

Made by a resident living in British Columbia, Canada Only creators that have not won a major prize (Best in Category, Best in Show, Technical Awards) at another convention are eligable Must meet the technical and the general requirements listed above

HOW TO SUBMIT So you’d like to submit a video to Tsukino-Con’s AMV Contest? FANTASTIC. You’re already our new best friend. To keep things simple:

Submit all videos to: amv@tsukinocon.com

When submitting your video please send us the following:

the anime used in the video the name of the song used in the video the name of the artist who the song is by the name you want to go by as creator of the video and an email that you check regularly that we can contact you at the category you feel your video falls into where you are from

Example:

Say I made a sweet video using footage from the movie 5cm per second and I wanted to submit it. I would send: ✢ Anime: 5cm per second ✢ Song: Timeless ✢ Artist: Kate Havnevik ✢ Creator: chaos.cubix (randomemail@gmail.com) ✢ Category: Drama ✢ From: Victoria, B.C

Please submit your video via some sort of file sharing program. Our recommendation is Dropbox, but Windows Skydrive, Sendspace and Mediafire work alright too. Please include the link to your video in the email you send us with your submission information. We will NOT rip videos from YouTube links.

Once we received your video we will send your confirmation that we have received it. If you do not receive confirmation within one week of sending your video in, please email us again.

JUDGING Judging for the AMV contest will consist of a panel of a minimum of three (3) to five (5) Tsukino-Con staff members. Of these members, the AMV Contest Co-Ordinator must be in attendance. All categories must have a minimum of five (5) entries, no more than eight (8) entries will be permitted in a single category.

QUESTIONS, ETC. By submitting an entry, contestants agree that they have read, understood & will comply by these rules. Contestants grant Tsukino-Con and the coordinators permission to use, copy, share and exhibit your entry in future showcases, exhibitions, and other events. We reserve the right to modify these rules at any time. Submitting to the contest does not guarantee inclusion as a finalist or inclusion in the contest even if all guidelines and requirements are met.

[somar78]

The Top 19 Cars Of 2019 On Silodrome

Each year we compile a list of the most popular cars on Silodrome from the previous 12 months, we rank them in the order of their popularity, and as always, there are a few surprises in the list.

For the first time in the almost 10 year history of Silodrome the top two cars are both the same make and model (though different years), and for the first time there’s a replica in the list, albeit one with a hefty dose of Tom Cruise Hollywood magic.

We’ve compiled the list below in reverse order, and there’s an honourable mention at the bottom that almost made it into the list but missed out by just a few hundred clicks. Each vehicle has an excerpt from its original feature article on Silodrome, with a link out to read the full text if you’d like more information on it.

And now with no further ado, here’s the Top 19 Cars of 2019:

#19 – THE CUSTOM KAISER JEEP M715 PICKUP TRUCK

The custom Kaiser Jeep M715 pickup truck you see here is one of the better built modified versions we’ve seen in recent memory. It’s now powered by a General Motors 350 cu. in. (5.7 litre) V8 engine offering considerably more horsepower and torque than the original inline-6.

This V8 is mated to an Oldsmobile automatic transmission to make daily driving much easier, it also means it’s now highway drivable as well – something that can be a struggle in the original 6-cylinder 4-speed vehicle.

Up front it rides on a Dana 60 axle and there’s a Dana 70 axle in the rear, both ride on new heavy duty leaf springs and the original drum brakes are kept as is the 2 horsepower front-mounted winch. The look of the truck is transformed by the 42” Super Swamper tires designed for off-road use but still more than capable of being driven on the road.

See the original article here.

  #18 – THE FUEL BESPOKE DESIGN CUSTOM BMW E9

This article was written by John Ward of Fuel Bespoke Design – the builder of this immaculate custom BMW E9 named “Von Trapp”. When possible we like to bring you the story of a vehicle in the words of the person or people who built it, so you get direct insight into their thought process and methodology.

I found a sorry looking BMW 2800 CSA in a builder’s yard in NSW, Australia – the car had no engine or transmission but did look reasonably complete otherwise. I knew it would have some rust issues, they all do, back in the day Karmann the coachbuilders BMW outsourced to didn’t really focus on rustproofing the vehicles.

Having just completed the BMW 2002 aka “The Red Baron” I had a good idea of the journey I was in for, but this time I wanted to step it up a little. The E9 is in my opinion, one of the most beautiful cars to come out of BMW so I didn’t want to mess with the aesthetics but I did want to give it a new lease of life with more than a few hidden secrets.

After a complete strip down, it was off to Redistrip for a chemical dip to take it back to bare metal as it’s so much easier to repair a stripped clean body. She was pretty bad, just about every panel would need either repair work or replacement.

See the original article here.

  #17 – THE BYERS SR100

The 1950s America was the world leader in fibreglass kit car design and construction. The composite material must have seemed like a gift from the heavens, allowing small scale car manufacturers to create beautiful, complex body designs without needing to handcraft each car from aluminum alloy or steel – a huge time saver.

One of the leading lights of this fibreglass car movement was Jim Byers. He had previously teamed up with Dick Jones to create and build the 1953 Meteor SR1 sports car but when Jones moved interstate Byers set up on his own. He improved the design and called it the Byers SR100, each body was made of hand-laid fibreglass and designed to fit a 100 inch wheelbase.

Customers who bought a Byers SR100 body would typically either build or source their own drive train, chassis, and running gear, finishing the car off in their own garage.

The SR100 and the SR1 on which it was based were designed to accommodate the engine in a front-mid engine configuration allowing for optimal weight distribution. The fibreglass body tipped the scales at just 125 lbs, and the completed car would typically weigh in at a little over 2,000 lbs and be fitted with a V8 capable of 200+ hp and over 200 ft lbs of torque.

See the original article here.

  #16 – FERRARI 250 GT SPECIALE BY PININ FARINA

This Pinin Farina Speciale 250 GT was a masterpiece of design, vastly different from the tastefully understated 250 GT Boano. This one-off car features enclosed headlights, lavish but tasteful chrome throughout, a hood scoop to feed the V12, large vents on the side of each front fender, and an almost impossibly elegant side-profile.

Some of the car’s design features would be integrated into the series-based 250 GT Pinin Farina coupes that went into production at the end of 1957, but the Speciale remains unique.

Princess Liliane kept the car in her private collection for 10 years before gifting it to a doctor, from there it passed through a number of hands until it ended up with the current owner – who has had it for 20 years.

See the original article here.

#15 – THE 1969 BAJA PORSCHE 911

The Baja Porsche 911 project was funded by Arc Audio as it was to be their SEMA show car for the 2017 event. Far from being a stationary show car with no actual ability, the Baja Porsche 911 was built to be a highly capable off-road racer.

No corners were cut and no budgetary restrictions interfered with its construction. The original all-steel Porsche 911body was mounted to a tubular steel Baja racing chassis with a tuned 2.3 litre Volkswagen flat-four cylinder engine with four open exhausts exiting above the engine bay, and a four-speed gearbox.

VW flat-four engines have been tried and tested in desert racing for decades, the simple air-cooled motors obviously don’t need heavy liquid cooling systems – eliminating one potential point of failure. Aftermarket parts availability for high-performance VW engines is excellent, with custom builds producing 180 to 200+ hp, up from the ~39 hp they made from the factory.

See the original article here.

  #14 – THE 1971 PLYMOUTH ROAD RUNNER RAPID TRANSIT

The car you see here was widely considered to be the highlight of the 1971 show cars. It was built by Chuck Miller of Styline Custom for Chrysler in 1970 and it’s characterized by its one-off body modifications including a unique front end that extended the car by 6 inches, twin hood scoops, and a tail with an unusual integrated spoiler.

Quad headlights are situated behind a steel grille with integrated headlight covers, and there are 3D vacuum-formed translucent custom Road Runner heads on each corner of the car, which led to the nickname “The Chicken Head Car”.

Under the hood you’ll find a 383 cu. in. V8 with a dual-snorkel air cleaner backed by an automatic transmission. In Road Runner specification this V8 had a 4.25 inch bore, a 3.38 inch stroke, 335 hp at 5,200 rpm, 425 ft lbs of torque 3,400 rpm, a 9.5:1 compression ratio, and a Holley 4-barrel carburettor.

See the original article here.

  #13 – MARK HAWWA’S 400 HP MAZDA RX-7

Mark’s RX-7 is a 1983 model now fitted with a rebuilt 13B rotary fitted with a GCG T35 turbocharger running 14 lbs of boost and an air-to-air intercooler. Engine management is taken care of by a Motec ECU running Bosch injectors and a Tune Flex able to run E85 or 98 octane fuel.

In its current configuration the car is putting out 400 hp at the rear wheels, this was far too much for the original differential and axle so Mark’s car has a Toyota Hilux rear axle that can get the power to the wheels without grenading itself in the process.

BC racing suspension is used and the car is fitted with an S5 gearbox, and a Group C bodykit similar to that used on the now legendary Allan Moffat car raced in Australia in-period. The car has Techno Toy control arms, tension, and lateral rods, as well as Nitto NT01 semi slick tires and Compomotive wheels.

The car is currently wearing its InFast livery for the InFast Rally, a private endurance rally that is strictly invitation only and takes place annually in Australia – typically covering over 2,000 miles in 7 days.

See the original article here.

  #12 – THE AUTECH ZAGATO STELVIO AZ1

The Autech Zagato Stelvio AZ1 is a Japanese-Italian joint project based on the underpinnings of the 280 bhp turbocharged Nissan Leopard that had been tuned by Autech – Nissan’s in-house tuning division similar to BMW’s M division or Mercedes-Benz’s AMG.

At first glance the car can be mistaken for an Aston Martin V8 Vantage Zagato of the same era, it also predated the Alfa Romeo SZ  which shared some stying cues. Unusually, the Autech Zagato Stelvio AZ1 has its front wing mirrors integrated into the body, giving the front end of the car an interesting look whilst at the same time referencing the prominent front wing mirrors that featured frequently on many Japanese cars of the ’60s and ’70s.

The joint project between Autech and Zagato kicked off in 1987, during one of the most significant booms in Japanese economic history. At the time the country was the global leader in electronics production, and a leader in automobile and motorcycle production. Products like the Sony Walkman and the Nintendo Entertainment System were dominating their respective industries and cars like the Toyota Corolla and the Honda Accord were among the best selling in the world.

See the original article here.

  #11 – THE DUNE BUGGY DRIVEN BY STEVE MCQUEEN IN THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR

The Meyers Manx dune buggy driven by Steve McQueen in the Thomas Crown Affair is undeniably one of the most famous screen cars of its era. It’s due to come up for open auction with Bonhams in a few weeks time and it’s almost certainly going to become the most valuable Meyers Manx beach buggy in history.

Steve McQueen is one of the best-known petrol head actors of the 20th century, alongside other screen icons like Paul Newman, James Brolin, and James Garner.

It isn’t common knowledge that McQueen was personally involved in the process of building the custom Meyers Manx that was used in the film. He enlisted the help of Pete Condos of Con-Ferr who had previously worked with McQueen to build his custom Jeep.

The two men laid out a specification sheet for an exceptionally fast beach buggy that a millionaire like the fictional character Thomas Crown would drive.

See the original article here.

  #10 – AN ORIGINAL AEROCAR ONE

This is one of just six original examples of the Aerocar One (some say only five were built), it’s in airworthy condition and ready to fly, and it can also be driven on the roads in the USA.

In order to own an Aerocar One you need both a driver’s license and a pilot’s license, you also need to buy both automotive and aircraft insurance, and you need to pay for both automobile registration and aircraft registration.

Still, if you’re in the market for a flying car with a value approaching $1,000,000 USD it’s doubtful that things like insurance and registration costs are going to be a concern.

See the original article here.

  #9 – THE ALPHA ONE GTO DRIVEN BY TOM CRUISE IN VANILLA SKY

The Alpha One GTO is one of the better-known Ferrari 250 GTO replicas, they were based on the Datsun Z-car platform, typically the 240Z and 260Z, with some using the later 280Z.

Many owners ordered their cars as turn key vehicles from Joe Alphabet’s company which allowed them to specify a wide variety of options including Chevy V8s, uprated suspension and brakes, automatic or 5-speed manual transmissions, and an array of paint colors.

This particular Alpha One GTO is doubtless the most famous of them all, it was used in the 2001 blockbuster film Vanilla Sky with Tom Cruise behind the wheel. For car people the scenes with the 250 GTO driving around the abandoned streets of New York City were some of the most memorable in the film.

See the original article here.

  #8 – THE SNOW CRUISER – ANTARCTICA’S ABANDONED BEHEMOTH

The Snow Cruiser – Antarctica’s Abandoned Behemoth is a short documentary that gives a concise history of one of the most unusual land-based vehicles ever built.

The film uses a combination of archive video footage and still images to tell the story of the Snow Cruiser, it’s a remarkable tale of ambition and engineering that resulted in the Snow Cruiser being designed and built in Chicago between 1937 and 1939 before being driven on public roads to Boston, over 1,000 miles away.

In Boston it would be loaded onto a ship and taken to Antarctica by way of the Panama Canal and New Zealand. I won’t go into what happened next as I don’t want to ruin the film.

See the original article here.

  #7 – ELEANOR FROM GONE IN 60 SECONDS

The 2000 film Gone in 60 Seconds was a big-budget remake of a 1974 H.B. Halicki film of the same name, which featured a similar plot, plenty of chase scenes, and of course, Eleanor. The 1974 film was made on a far smaller budget and it’s well worth a watch if you have the time. Of course the remake from 2000 was a big budget Hollywood film featuring an all-star cast including Nicolas Cage, Angelina Jolie, Giovanni Ribisi, Christopher Eccleston, Robert Duvall, Vinnie Jones, and Will Patton.

The modern Gone In 60 Seconds was made with a budget of 90 million, it received mixed reviews from critics however the public loved the film, and it was a significant commercial success – taking in over a quarter of a billion dollars at the box office globally.

Some have attributed the surge in interest surrounding restomod vehicles to Eleanor, Chip Foose’s dream Shelby GT500 evocation, and it’s certainly likely. Many restomods follow the styling cues laid out by Foose with Eleanor, and American muscle cars like the Mustang are popular targets for restomodders.

See the original article here.

  #6 – MICKEY THOMPSON’S ORIGINAL CHALLENGER IV BUGGY

In 1977 Mickey Thompson (MT) set out to build one of the most technically advanced off road race vehicles ever created. While the fastest off road cars on the dirt (at the time) were Class 1 Unlimited Buggies based off of VW suspension, with a whopping 10 to 12″ of wheel travel, and 2276cc VW motors, Mickey decided to “Super Size” his ride with an American V8 and 15 to 18″ of wheel travel.

Mickey started with a chassis (known as Challenger IV or CH4) built by Smokey Allerman, who was famous for building sprint cars back then. The car looked a lot like a sprint car but the suspension was altered to get more wheel travel out of it with custom built A-arms and a 3 link rear suspension arrangement.

While the chassis was built by Allerman, Mickey had John House (MT’s crew chief), son Danny Thompson, and Bruce Parrish finish the racer and drop in a 383 stroker Chevrolet V8 engine pulled from one of his old Indy cars, along with a 2 speed Powerglide automatic transmission.

See the original article here.

  #5 – THE KEN MILES CAR FROM FORD V FERRARI

The Superformance Ford GT40 you see here is a 1966 MkII model, it was built from scratch by the team at Superformance in Irvine, California.

Rich MacDonald of Superperformance reached out to representatives at Fox Studios about the possibility of featuring the cars in the new film. He explained how historically accurate the company’s replicas are, and the filmmakers clearly agreed, as they used two of them with liveries painted to match both the black GT40 driven by Bruce McLaren and Chris Amon, as well as the memorable blue/white/red livery used on the Ken Miles and Denny Hulme car.

Unlike the original car however, this one is now fitted with a prodigious Roush 427IR V8 stroked out to 511 cu. in., now producing 604 hp and 572 ft lbs of torque. Looking inside the car it’s clear that Superformance went to great lengths to ensure that every detail was tended to in order to make it as authentic as possible, the toggle switches and screws, the interior materials, and the other small details are exemplary.

The car you see here is the one used by Christian Bale (and the stunt drivers) in the film, it’s been signed by Ken Miles’ 1966 crew chief, Charlie Agapiou, and Peter Miles, Ken Miles’ son, and it’s been displayed at numerous red carpet events alongside the stars of the film, on ESPN, and on CBS Sunday Morning.

See the original article here.

  #4 – THUNDERBIRD 2 – THE BEST CAMPER VAN ON EARTH

The Thunderbird 2 you see here is a 100% road-legal conversion with a bespoke metal body based on a 1994 Toyota Previa (2438cc petrol/automatic). It has eight windows at the front, the two in front of the driver have windscreen wipers, and there are two circular ports on either side.

Entrance and exit is by gull wing doors on either side with gas struts and a pull handle, the interior is color-matched to the exterior, and it has all the requited headlights, indicators, and brake lights to keep the boys in blue happy.

In the back you’ll find a a Thunderbirds themed bed and a roof-mounted DVD system (so you can watch Thunderbirds obviously) and your view outside is provided by the circular portholes.

It might not be the most practical camper van for sale but you’d have no problem at all making friends when you roll into the campground. Alternatively, it’d make an excellent novelty AirBnB listing.

See the original article here.

  #3 – PORSCHE SPEEDSTER PROJECT CAR

As far as we can tell, this Porsche Speedster is the best Porsche project car for sale in the world at this moment. I know that’s a big claim to make, however this is an authentic numbers-matching Speedster – one of the most important Porsches of its era. It’s being offered with no reserve out of the private Shook Family collection in Corpus Christi, Texas.

The Speedster is in running, driving, and stopping condition. It clearly needs a lot of work but there’s been increasing interest in recent years from enthusiasts and collectors in cars that are totally original and unrestored – as that authenticity is becoming increasingly rare. You can restore a car as many times as you like, but it’s only an unrestored original once.

The story behind the creation of the Porsche Speedster is fascinating. It was conceived not by Porsche but by the legendary Austrian/American auto importer named Max Hoffman. As a European who had immigrated to the United States, Hoffman had unique insight into how to talk to the European automakers, and he had insight into what Americans really wanted to drive.

See the original article here.

  #2 – THE ORIGINAL STEVE MCQUEEN BULLITT MUSTANG

This is the hero car from the 1968 Steve McQueen film “Bullitt”, it’s a Highland Green 1968 Ford Mustang GT and since the film was released this car has become one of the most famous Mustangs in history, possibly even the most famous outright.

Before filming began, two Highland Green 1968 Ford Mustang GTs were supplied by Ford who were hoping to capitalize on a little almost-free publicity from the film. Bullitt has been sending Mustang buyers to Ford now for over 50 years, including a number of official Ford Mustang Bullitt special models with the most recent being in 2018, so it was undoubtably a good investment.

Interestingly, McQueen partnered up with real-life San Francisco Inspector Dave Toschi, it was Toschi who inspired McQueen to wear a shoulder holster, and Toschi later partner with Inspector Bill Armstrong as the lead San Francisco investigators of the Zodiac Killer murders. These murders began shortly after the cinematic release of Bullitt.

See the original article here.

  #1 – PATRICK DEMPSEY’S 420 HP 1965 FORD MUSTANG FASTBACK

In 2008 racing driver (and actor) Patrick Dempsey worked closely with the team at Panoz to develop what he believed was the perfect 1965 Ford Mustang Fastback.

The project had no limit on price, the key was to build the greatest custom ’65 Fastback of all time. By the time the car was complete over 3,900 hours of labour had been spent on it, as well as over $300,000 USD.

Dempsey is best known for his role as neurosurgeon Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd in the television series Grey’s Anatomy and his slew of leading film roles, but in the motor racing community he’s known as a genuinely talented racing driver in the vein of Paul Newman.

In interviews Dempsey has said he’d quit acting and race full time if he could, he’s competed at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the Rolex 24 at Daytona, and Ensenada SCORE Baja 1000 off-road race.

See the original article here.

  HONORABLE MENTION : THE SHELBY DE TOMASO P70

Carroll Shelby wanted the new car to be fitted with the lightest possible 7 litre V8, de Tomaso and his team believed they could stretch the capacity of the 289 cu. in. (4.7 litre) Ford V8 to 427 cu. in. (7 litres). Sadly this turned out to be physically impossible as there was insufficient room to increase capacity by boring the cylinders and fitting a stroker crank.

The original design of the body by Peter Brock had been sent from Shelby in California to the coachbuilder in Italy, Shelby wasn’t impressed with the finished product so he sent Brock to Italy to personally supervise the building of a new body with the team at Carrozzeria Fantuzzi, a Modena-based coachbuilder.

Just as Brock was in the process of fitting the completed body to the second iteration of the Vallelunga-derived chassis he received a call from California, it was Carroll telling him to get on a plane and come home. The project was being cancelled as Shelby had just been hired by Ford to run a competition campaign fielding some new sports racing cars at endurance races like the 24 Hours of Le Mans, fielding a racing car called the Ford GT40.

See the original article here.

The post The Top 19 Cars Of 2019 On Silodrome appeared first on Silodrome.

source https://silodrome.com/top-19-cars-of-2019/

[tirednotflirting]

i was just an only child of the universe (and then i found you)

@clumsyclifford you enabled my writing this and it is also your birthday so it is yours (unless you think it is Bad which is def a possibility bc i have read it all the way through like 1.5 times and in that case u saw nothing). i hope you have beautiful day. you put so much light out into the world, you deserve nothing but that and so much more in return. thank you for your kindness and community and endless fun. much luv x

and as always here’s the link to ao3 bc it is the Better way to consume writing let’s all be real here

When Ashton wakes up, it��s still dark. And he’s alone.

He lets his eyes flutter open, reaching out to his right for his phone to check the time. It’s just before 4am, he’s only been fully asleep for around two hours. He pushes himself up to sit, the fleecy blanket Luke had tossed across the sheets when the temperature dropped a few weeks earlier pooling around his waist. He lifts his neck some and pushes his hair from his eyes to peer over toward the bathroom to see if he can see the light on, worried the drinks Luke had had several hours earlier were making a reappearance. But the door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so his lover isn’t sick. 

Or at least not in the bathroom, he thinks to himself when he hears a quiet noise in what he suspects is the kitchen. 

Ashton turns, letting his bare feet drop from the mattress to the floor. He squints against the darkness in search of something to pull on to cover his upper half before going to investigate. He sees what looks to be a shirt and half-blindly reaches for it, realizing it's one of Luke’s flannels once he gets it closer to his face, the identity of the garment being revealed by the softness only achieved from years of wear and wash and the faint smell of Luke’s cologne on the fabric.

He stands and pulls his arms through the sleeves, not bothering with buttons, his entire being just too tired for that. Ashton shuffles out from the bedroom and down the hall, the lack of carpet making him wish he had tugged on his slippers (a recent gift that had come in a care package from Calum’s mom) before wandering out to find his boy.

Luke is sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen island, the only light on being the dull yellow one just above the sink. He faces away from Ashton, his shoulders covered by one of the quilts he must have pulled from the couch and hunched over some. His hair had grown long during the semester and he’s got it pulled back into a little bun he must have put up after getting out of bed (Ashton never letting him wear it up that way to bed so that way he could play with the blonde curls without a hair tie getting in the way). He sniffles quietly and Ashton can hear him stir a spoon around a bowl that must be blocked from the black haired boy’s view, the metal clinking against the sides of the ceramic.

Gently, so as to not scare Luke, Ashton places his hands atop his shoulders, sliding his hands down to clasp together against the blonde’s chest. He settles his head to rest against the side of his. “Why are you up?”

Luke sets his spoon back in the bowl and tugs Ashton’s hands apart so he can lace his left with Ashton’s right. He smiles as Luke turns to place a kiss against his temple. “I was having this dream that we were eating cereal. And then I woke up when I dropped the bowl on the floor in the dream. And then I was hungry for cereal. So now I’m here.” 

Ashton chuckles to himself as he rubs his thumb over Luke’s where their hands are clasped together. He liked that Luke’s brain worked in the kind of way that got him up for cereal when he was still a little drunk after a night out at the bars. They had been out with Michael and Calum, celebrating the end to another semester. Ashton, the group’s forever faithful DD, had spent the night sitting at the bar, sipping on soda and lime, watching the three others dance on and with each other. He had smiled and nodded at the bar as Luke told him a story of some funny ringtone that had gone off during his literature final and about the therapy dog he had gotten to pet when they brought them by the library.

(He had also avoided the suggestive look from his favorite bartender when Luke draped his arms around Ashton’s waist toward the end of the night, his lips brushing over his neck as he begged to go back home in between kissing the blushed skin. An Uber was called the moment Luke’s hands started trying to creep their way up under Ashton’s t shirt.)

They had gotten home only a couple hours earlier, Ashton sitting Luke at the counter to drink a few glasses of water and take a couple preemptive ibuprofen while he waited for the confirmation text that Michael and Calum had made it back to their apartment a few streets over.

(cal: we are out of the uber.

cal: we are at the front door.

cal: michael dropped his keys and then someone walking a dog walked by so he is petting the dog.

cal: it’s pretty fluffy. his name is einstein.

cal: okay we’re in our unit now. door is locked. we are drinking water.

cal: [attached] seeeeee? 

cal: luv u)

Getting him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change out of his jeans hadn’t been all that difficult. Luke had two phases of sleepy drunk: giggly and hangry. Thankfully Ashton had made sure all of them had a full meal before hitting the bars so he knew he was likely to deal with the giggly version of his boyfriend rather than the latter. Luke had followed Ashton by hand to bed without complaint, slurring his words around a story about another dog he had met recently before his words slowly came to a stop as he fell asleep against Ashton’s chest.

Luke uses his free hand to take another bite of the colorful cereal, frowning when a drop of milk hits the counter. He swipes it away with his thumb and then smiles again. It’s quiet between them for a moment while he leans his head against Ashton’s as he continues to stand behind him, chewing slowly, as if stuck on a thought. Ashton finds himself smiling adoringly at him as he glances at his face out of the corner of his tired eyes. It’s obvious the blonde is still at least a little drunk.

“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

Luke’s expression shifts for a moment then, to something lighter and happier, in response to the compliment. It fades just slightly and then he’s dropping his spoon in his mostly empty bowl and turning in the barstool so he can face Ashton. He drops his hands around his waist and maneuvers the standing boy to move between his legs. “You ever think about how tiny we are?”

Ashton slides his hands up where they’re rested against Luke’s bare chest, fixing the blanket to stay wrapped around his shoulders before letting his arms hang loosely around his neck, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the curls at the back of his neck that have escaped the little bun.

“I hate to break it to you, Lu, but you’re a little bit of a giant compared to most people of average size.”

Luke opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again and pouts his bottom lip out. Ashton can feel him play with the hem of the flannel at the bottom of his back before sliding his hands underneath and resting against the skin there. “No, I mean, like. Do you ever think about how big oceans and planets and suns and stars are and how we’re just these tiny little things? Just little specks on what is a speck in the middle of other specks?”

The question itself, though alcohol induced, is pretty damn existential. And Ashton probably would have wanted to take a bit longer to formulate an answer but Luke is looking at him with those anxious blue eyes and his hands at Ashton’s back pull him in closer, as if he’s worried that that big wide universe will suck the hazel eyed boy away. He’s trying to think of a way to respond when Luke keeps going.

“Because I mean it's just so wild to me. How we can be so little and tiny and really not much of anything at all when compared to everything else in the universe. Yet for some reason the universe decided to give us just a little bit of attention to guide us to one another. I can’t stop thinking about what we did to deserve something so special.”

And despite knowing that everything coming out of Luke’s mouth in the poetic way that it is is liquor induced babbling, Ashton’s heart is bursting at his words. Luke is speaking from a place of adoration, of love, not existentialism (or at least not too much). He’s not even sure what to say really so he just slides his hands up to cup Luke’s cheeks, the blonde closing his eyes while smiling wide, his blushing cheeks pressed against Ashton’s palms. 

He shakes his head as he runs his thumbs below Luke’s ocean blue eyes. “Guess some higher power had a free afternoon and decided it might be funny to kick both of us in the direction of the library that day. To make you spill your coffee in the elevator to the fourth floor.” 

Luke lets out a giggle and drops his head to the side, Ashton’s left hand holding it up. “When our kids ask how we met, we’re gonna have to come up with something better than that. You’ll have to make up some story about wooing me, you’re much better at telling stories.”

Ashton lifts his brows and lets out a gentle laugh. “Our kids?”

Luke responds with a look as if Ashton’s just said something ridiculous. “Yes, our kids. Should at least have two. That way they’ve got like a built in friend. Ideally, a boy and a girl.”

Ashton can’t help himself as he leans forward to press his lips to Luke’s for a brief moment. Even dead tired and drunk, Luke sees him in his future, long term future too, not just next summer or something. He can taste the sweetness from the cereal and Luke’s toothpaste as he pulls away, dropping his hands from his cheeks so he can rinse the cereal bowl, the heaviness of the early hour really starting to weigh on him again.

“Have you picked out names yet?” Ashton asks Luke as he watches Ashton turn on the water and wash the leftover milk down the drain. Ashton looks up to see the blonde’s gentle smile as he pulls the blanket closer around his chest. 

Luke answers immediately, causing Ashton to blush since that means Luke has certainly thought about the question before. “I like Matilda - like from the movie? - for a girl. And I think your middle name would be nice for a boy. Both sound nice with Irwin, too.”

“So they’ll have my last name then?” Ashton asks with a smirk, his eyes still soft with the love for his boy.

“Yeah, I always thought so. I mean, I want to have it one day too so the kids probably should as well.”

Ashton rounds the counter again, moving back to stand between Luke’s legs. He pulls the hair tie from his curls and cards his hands through them. “You’ve thought a lot about our future, huh?”

“Have you not?” Worry briefly crosses Luke’s eyes.

Ashton shakes his head. “No, of course I have,” he starts, one of his hands reaching down to hold Luke’s. He always liked how their hands looked like they were meant to hold the other’s. “I had just always thought on the end of making sure we could find jobs in the same place, that we find a city both of us like, introducing the parents to each other next spring like we planned. Thought about how I might propose but hadn’t gotten into the logistics of names and such. You really want to take mine?”

Luke’s lip pouts out some as he nods. “Yeah, I do. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He watches then as a blush slowly creeps up to Luke’s cheeks, though they’re still pink from the liquor he’d had earlier. Ashton coaxes him to standing, their hands still clasped, and he uses his free one to pull the blanket from Luke’s shoulders to drop on the couch as they pass by. For a moment, he squeezes their palms together before letting go to shuffle to the opposite side of the bed, pulling off the flannel before sliding back beneath the covers. 

Luke immediately slides his body to press against Ashton’s side, his face dropping to nuzzle it’s way into Ashton’s neck, letting his lips just barely brush against the black haired boy’s shoulder. Their legs slot together beneath the sheets. Ashton had always been thankful for the immediate calm that would wash over his body when pressed as close as he could be to Luke. He liked not having to worry about him letting go. (In what way he means that, he’s not really sure.) He’s just seconds away from sleep when he hears Luke whisper, his lips dancing delicately against Ashton’s skin as he speaks.

“Love you, Ash. Glad I got to find you.”

“I love you, Luke,” Ashton sighs back as the calm settles again.

And as he lets their fingers tangle together again against his bare chest, Ashton finds himself wondering if the action will feel different when they’ve got the wedding bands he’s hidden beneath a stack of t shirts in his chest of drawers resting on their fourth fingers.

*