#not that everything I wrote isn’t gay anyway

[zillaphoneswag]

Me writing for my original works and editors: “We should explore how oftentimes in romantic literature, spiritual strength is often equated with power and authority, and oftentimes the idea of suffering can be paired with desire. The loss or gain of power and authority is directly equivalent to the main character’s desire.”

Me writing for my friends/tumblr/fanfic: “Okay but what if I wrote for this thing but it was gay and had gay sex in it.”

[paperstorm]

2024 fic round up!

I was tagged by so many lovely people I have lost track of them, so my whole tag list is under the cut! I wrote 270,000 words this year, including the entire Missing Moments season 3. Thank you to everyone who commented or kudosed or reblogged or read silently, the support for writers in this fandom is really so wonderful 💛

Missing Moments [a series of canon compliant tags for every episode of Lone Star, seasons 1-3 completed]

3x01 – Imperfect pieces pulling at the glue (9.1k) 3x02 – Up in smoke (9.4k) 3x03 – Wayfaring strangers (10.4k) 3x04 – Homeward bound (15.7k) 3x05 – Reconstruction (7.3k) 3x06 – All these sacred melodies (8.5k) 3x07 – Everest to mariana (8.2k) 3x08 – "You have one new message..." (12.4k) 3x09 – Cracks begin to show (5k) 3x10 – Push and pull (5.2k) 3x11 – Where the rain won't hurt (9.7k) 3x12 – Losing streak (4k) 3x13 – Heard the risk is drowning (15.3k) 3x14 – Live in the layers (5.6k) 3x15 – Switch (5.5k) 3x16 – Everything and every dream (5.6k) 3x17 – Move into the new (7.5k) 3x18 – Forever is the sweetest con (10.1k)

Hold me too close (1.8k)

Carlos’s lips curve into a small responding smile and he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He tilts his chin forward, asking for a kiss, that TK gives him readily because he thinks it would hurt like having a limb ripped off if he didn’t. Carlos’s lips are smooth and damp against his, wet with the salt from his tears.

“Wanna go for a walk?” TK asks when they part, and Carlos quickly nods.

A small extension of the scene after Tommy sings at their wedding.

In Loving Memory for @carlos-in-glasses (1.3k)

The word son catches his eye, and Carlos frowns and tucks his head to look closer. His legacy will continue to live on through his son’s own dedication to public service, is written at the bottom of the thin obituary.Carlos feels his stomach roll and his mouth slacken. Heat blooms in his cheeks and the tips of his fingers tingle. Next to him there’s a tiny, nearly imperceptible gasp – as TK finds the same words and his grip tightens further on Carlos’s arm.

Silver Lining's Gold and Shining (25.3k)

A story of nine pivotal moments in Carlos's life, and nine times his best friend was there beside him.

Butterflies and Sky-High (8k)

TK leans in closer and rests his forehead against Carlos’s cheek, understanding that this is hard for him. Carlos is so heart-warmed by the gesture that it gives him the courage to say, “I’ve been reading about demisexuality. It’s this thing where …”

“I know what it means,” TK says softly, and thank God he does because Carlos isn’t sure he would have done justice to an explanation anyway. Not right now.

“I think … maybe I am. That. I didn’t think I was anything other than gay but then I was reading and some stuff started to make sense.”

Made From Stardust (8.2k)

Adoration swells in your chest as it always does when the warmth of his smile is draped over you like a blanket. You could not express in words, not even if you spoke 50 languages instead of just two, the magnitude of your love for this man. It’s too big, too necessary, too seeped into the cracks of every plane of your existence. You cannot be you without him, because the you who sits here on this couch with your fiancé in the home you share with him would never have taken shape without his guiding hands. A man named Carlos Reyes would have existed, but not this one. He would have been somebody else.

A collaboration with @reasonandfaithinharmony, check out her beautiful gif set 🖼

Fine Line (6.8k) for @heartstringsduet

Carlos ghosts a kiss along TK’s cheek, feeling the shudder of TK’s inhale as he murmurs, “You need me?”

“I …” TK swallows, his throat clicks and Carlos hears it.

Their knees bump and Carlos trails his fingers through TK’s hair and just waits. He doesn’t ask again, he just holds TK in a vertical embrace and strokes his hair and stays patient.

“There’s something that’s helped in the past,” TK says in a small voice. “Something you and I haven’t done before.”

brighter in the morning (40k so far) cowritten with @strandnreyes

Sometimes nights together are hard to come by, but TK and Carlos find ways to connect as husbands in the morning.

A series of 12 mornings together for each of the 12 episodes in season 5 (plot permitting …)

Somewhere in a Song (23.7k so far)

Fresh out of rehab for drug and alcohol addiction, lead singer TK and his band Stranded are pushed into a tour he's not sure he's ready for. To combat the bad press from his very public hitting of rock bottom, his label suggests they take up-and-coming country singer Carlos along with them. Between TK's still healing wounds and closeted Carlos's fears that his parents don't support his musical career, a rocky start might turn into finding exactly what they both need.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@hereghostslive @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89

@carlossreaders @ladytessa74 @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[hermanoga]

One of the best things 'The Eye' and 'Lull' have done is helping me reinterpret the romantic under(?!)tones of the previous openings and endings without any weird guilt (of forcing my gay agenda on anything, which I know is idiotic but anyway). Go back and listen to Vortex, Dive Back in Time and The Tides, everything falls into place all of a sudden. And ALSO, read the damn lyrics of Overthink!

ps : I forgot Break and Flash - the gayest gay ones. I will discuss if I want later :3

Yingdu is standing there with a scythe or something as I write this but I am actually feeling very content right now. Oh, also! found a theory on twitter thread titled This isn’t the dead wife you’re looking for: how Link Click leverages the “dead wife” trope for CXS while actively subverting it (bro wrote an almost academic paper, delicious arguments really, a similar discussion I was having with a friend the other day) which really makes a lot of sense! The form and content aligns very perfectly if we keep that theory in mind.

Edit : Some more Shiguang ramblings I posted.

I have tears in my Shiguang eyes cause I skipped lunch to edit this, I am hungry and I feel like crying.

[wheatnoodle]

i love you, evangeline

og post | p1 | p2 | p3 | p4 | p5

~🌷🌻~

“so,” dustin says around a mouthful of french toast that has him spewing crumbs everywhere, “can i ask about…y’know…you becoming…you?”

“yeah, sure. ask away. we didn’t do secrets before this,” evie freezes briefly as she grabs a napkin to give him. her face cringes slightly. “sorry about that, by the way.”

dustin flaps the napkin to wave her worry off. “dude, you could literally get killed if you tell the wrong person.”

“way to remind us,” robin rolls her eyes over her coffee mug.

“anyways!” evie cuts in with a clap of her hands. “your questions?”

“oh! right. i wrote them down,” dustin says and pulls out his phone to open his notes.

“he wrote them down,” robin repeats sarcastically under her breath, earning a snort from evie and a glare from dustin that has her raising her hands in surrender.

dustin takes a sip of his orange juice and clears his throat. “okay. did you know before you left hawkins? how did you figure it out?”

“yeah, i knew before i left. i think right around when the whole…vecna thing happened was when i really understood what was up,” evie nods thoughtfully, “like, i always felt…different? or just lost, i guess. and then with starting to find words to put to my feelings, like transgender and dysphoria, it started to feel like maybe i wasn’t so weird. robin and i went shopping and tried on like skirts and stuff and that was wild. and then i started thinking about all the girls i had dated and what that meant, and honestly, i think i wanted to be them rather than be with them.”

“so if you didn’t want to be with them, are you gay? or…i guess straight? like you like dudes?” dustin asks, his brows drawn as he listens.

“y’know, i haven’t really thought too much about it but…yeah,” she shrugs. “i guess i’d say i’m straight since i like men.”

“cool,” he nods with a smile. “damn, so even as a girl, you and robin still won’t date.”

“oh dude, i was struggling helping her out with everything after her boob job. i swear, i was no better than a man,” robin says across the table.

“she wore an ace bandage as a blind fold,” evie laughs, tossing her head back. dustin giggles as he watches robin pick up the newspaper to smack evie with, her cheeks bright red.

“is it only robin and now me who knows?” he continues along with his questioning.

“you two and my dad’s secretary since he didn’t feel like answering the phone. she congratulated me, by the way,” evie smirks at the end. just picturing her dad’s face if he were to hear the news. the rage, the steam coming from his ears. screams that could be heard blocks away as he throws another lamp. and his loyal secretary of 8 years has already congratulated his daughter and told her how happy she is for her. robin high fives her every time she gets to mention it.

“damn! i cant imagine how much that took for you to cal him. nice work,” dustin smiles proudly. “would you ever want to tell more people from hawkins?”

she’s silent for a minute. it’s something she didn’t think she’d ever consider doing. and yet, she can’t outright say no.

“i think so. someday. i hope.”

“i could…ease them into the idea so it’s less of a shock? just like…gauge where everyone’s head is at in regards to transgender individuals, give you two updates, see where to go from there?” dustin suggests with a shrug. robin’s brows raise under bangs. now that’s an idea she hasn’t had yet.

“that sounds…good,” evie nods confidently after a second, a new smile blooming on her face. robin cheers from her seat and throws her arms in the air. “just be subtle! don’t walk in all ‘hey guys, how do you feel about hypermasculine jocks from small towns turning into women who wanna be barbie?’.”

“oh no, you stole my plan word for word,” dustin rolls his eyes. “no shit i’ll be subtle. it’s a shame a side effect of estrogen isn’t intelligence.”

“don’t forget i’m hosting you,” evie warns with a pointed finger.

“yes, mom,” he sighs heavily, “okay, you can stop me if this is too far. you said you got your boobs done, did you get…like…the surgery? like the surgery?”

“not too far, honestly. yeah, i got it about…a year ago, actually! ahh happy birthday to me!” evie claps excitedly.

“does it work?”

“DUSTIN!”

~

“i just don’t get why he hasn’t said anything. he said he would update us what she’s like, i mean c’mon, he’s the first one invited over! the first one allowed over! he promised to text when he got there, what if something happened? did everyone die? him and robin are silent! nobody answers their texts!”

“eddie! will you please just stop? dustin is fine and i am sure he isn’t wooing your fairy princess, love of your life, big stupid crush, ms evangeline,” gareth groans. he’s laying upside down on the couch in his and eddie’s apartment, curls dangling to the ground. it’s been forever of listening to eddie gush about robin’s roommate and now it’s just even worse with dustin staying with them. the least eddie could do is stop pacing in front of him, he’s making him motion sick watching his legs go back and forth.

finally, eddie flips down next to him with a heavy sigh. he takes a long swig of his beer, effectively draining half of it down his throat, before just staring at the ceiling.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you’re right. everything’s fine. plus, it’d be pretty fucked of him to go flirt with her when i called dibs.”

“you can’t dibs a woman-“

“yeah, yeah, shut up.” eddie lightly kicks at gareth’s shoulder. he sighs again, his finger fiddling with the wrapper on his beer bottle. “…do you think he’s mentioned me?”

“that’s it, i need a knife.”

~🌷🌻~

taggie waggies:

@lololol-1234 @xo-r4e @paintsplatteredandimperfect @homohomohoe @charlies-candid-corner @tartarusfairy @howincrediblysapphicofyou @steddie-as-they-go @bestwifehaver @sexymothmanincarnate @zoeweee @romanticdestruction @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @breadboi66 @shadowofaliar @mollymawkwrites @lofaewrites @estrellami-1 @ronance-is-my-wife @afewproblems @heartsong18 @discount-izukumidoriya @mightbeasleep @bookbinderbitch @justforthedead89 @onehandedbitch @anxiouseds @sunfloweringstories @cyranyx @thegingerrapunzel @hequet @herebedragons404 @magpiemuseum @scheodingers-muppet @the-ghost-in-your-curtains @background-noise-headache @steddieloverrr @punctualhowell @musical-theatre-gay @its-a-me-a-morgan @chronically-stupid-human @stevesbipanic @says-swag-unironically

[obsidianpen]

After reading No Glory and Hauntingly, it's hard to enjoy hetero romance, and it's not just because your way of writing is elite; there could be so many reasons that I went hardcore m/m and f/f shipper. Like, I am dead serious when I say my favorite telenovela pairing is Luisa x Rose from Jane the Virgin. So, I am really, really excited for your original work, and even more stoked that you decided it to be an m/m pair. But yeah, would love to know why you decided that?

you know, it was an interesting thought process that involved a lot of self reflecting. There’s definitely controversy around women writing gay male romance. Most of it is, I think, bullshit, and the arguments such as ‘its fetishizing’ are way off base (no, that would be male directors and producers creating plotless w/w porn, imo). But it was a Big Question: why should I, J…Jamie (lmao I’m almost more OP than myself anymore when I’m online) write a story with a bi male lead, when I’m a female (I love writing bis okay we need more of us!!) ? The reason I like writing Harry/Tom has everything to do with their dynamic and roles in the canon, and nothing to do with the gender. Id ship them regardless. In fact I probably would have realized I shipped them sooner if it was f/m; I was just too young at the time to realize that’s what I was rooting for because I was a bit sheltered in that regard.

anyway - so yeah, why am I still interested in m/m outside of fanfiction? I asked myself, staring at the mirror. So I wrote a little bit out of this original idea, one version as a female lead and once as a male, and you know, it was a pretty interesting exercise. When I was writing a male protagonist, I was… calm? Idk, I didn’t overthink him. I knew who he was and I just wrote what he did and what he thought. But when I was writing a the female version, my anxiety was so much higher! I found myself agonizing over every bit of her personality, worrying if people would find her ‘too this’ or ‘too that’, too predictable, too pretty, not pretty enough, too tough, too weak, etc etc. I felt like no matter who I made her, people would be upset and fucking hate her. And then I realized, oh. This is probably why so many women authors like writing male leads. Because that agonizing feeling, that’s how it is to be a woman, all the time. And it’s so relieving to get to leave that behind when writing a male lead. Maybe this is all deeply problematic on my part, I’m not sure. Internalized misogyny? I don’t think so, just the bleak reality. But yes I likely have issues lmaaao

Another reason was simply that the last original work I wrote has a female lead, so I thought I’d switch it up again. Writing an m/m story is what got me into writing in the first place, so it feels weirdly like have to acknowledge that in new projects I take seriously, too?

and to acknowledge that story I already wrote with the female lead - Starlings - I agonized quite a bit less over her, and in hindsight, I think it’s because she’s a child. She goes through puberty during the story, surrounded by older women, and there are almost no men in the whole thing, so the dynamic is totally different. It’s not big on the romance, either, which also helps. So yeah. No anxiety there. But with a grown ass woman in a story that’s centered quite a bit around a super problematic romance? Anxiety. Anxiety for days. I also feel this anxiety when I write Hermione, btw.

there will definitely be a different kind of worrying writing this new original thing, though - writing a gay magical romance set in southern 1920s America is gonna require a TON of research, and I’m not taking that lightly. But that worrying isn’t nearly as personal, which makes a lot of difference.

I’m interesting in other people’s opinions on this! So please share if you’re willing. 🌸

[sadiecoocoo]

Hazel, Sweet and Dynamic Chp. 5 - Arcane Fanfiction

Summary - While Viktor notices more and more things wrong with Jayce, their relationship reaches a climax

Word Count - 3,817

Full Word Count - 15,469

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter

Chp. 1

Notes: I wrote half of this in one sitting you guys can live with the typos anyways I'm back in school and need to make the gay men suffer because of it so things will be getting SO MUCH WORSE

The two had held onto each other for what felt like an eternity. It was one Viktor would gladly spend with Jayce, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to delve into why he felt that way.

The only thing that convinced the two to separate was the toll of their physical needs. Both of their bad legs were begging them to move to a more comfortable position. That combined with the two’s growing hunger was enough to do the trick.

Viktor bid Jayce to lay down, to rest his eyes, while he fixed some food. Jayce clung to his arm when he stood, holding him in place for a solid five minutes before relenting and letting go. Viktor hadn’t said a word the entire time it happened, only placed his hand over Jayce’s and squeezed it.

They ate silently after Viktor brought the hastily made meal back to Jayce. It honestly felt suffocating. Viktor thought there was more he should say, something like “I’m sorry,” or “I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” but he couldn’t force the words out. 

He honestly still felt like he was right. Viktor might always be bitter about the fact that Jayce still wanted to leave. If the other man’s occasional glances back towards the lab were any hint, he clearly still felt the urge to work on a way home.

Once Viktor had finished eating, he watched as Jayce only mindlessly picked at his food, pushing the chunks in the stew around with his spoon. Viktor was once again reminded by how much had truly changed.

There had been many days in the lab where Viktor had to be physically dragged away from his desk just so he could meet his basic needs. It would always be Jayce that finished his food first, though he still sat next to Viktor and silently made sure he finished as well.

Viktor was starting to hate everything that had changed. Why couldn’t they go back to that easy comradery that they had fallen into, that silent routine that brought them so much comfort and warmth?

“Viktor,” Jayce said, breaking him out of his stupor. He looked back at Jayce, who still looked like a kicked puppy. It made Viktor want to hug him again and this time never let go. “I-I can stop.” He continued quietly.

Viktor blinked once, twice. He furrowed his brow as Jayce nodded towards the lab, a silent explanation.

Oh. he was offering to give it all up. Just like that. It was what Viktor had wanted, but it brought a pit into his stomach. It would’ve made him lose his appetite if he hadn’t already finished eating.

“I-” He started, breaking off as he suddenly became very unsure of his words. Last time he managed to mess everything up, he didn’t want to repeat that so soon. He steeled himself for a decision that he would likely regret later, that would make him even more bitter with time.

“No, you deserve to go home.” He said, surprising the both of them. Jayce looked down contemplatively, then returned Viktor’s gaze with a confused expression, his mouth open as if to protest.

“This isn’t a world that we could be happy in for long,” Viktor could be happy, if he had Jayce with him. Being alone in this world seemed worse than death, but with Jayce it seemed like a paradise. “After everything that’s happened, we deserve to live an easy life with the people we love.” Jayce deserved it.

Jayce blinked at him for a moment, he looked lost on what to say. He looked down at the ground, picking at his food again before turning back to face Viktor. He smiled lightly.

“Thank you, Viktor.” He said, relief bleeding into his voice. Viktor nodded with a small hum, smiling back at him through his watering eyes.

After the incident, things went back to normal. Jayce noticeably stopped working in the lab as much. He went outside more often, insisting that he accompany Viktor on some of his expeditions.

The two of them were around the bridge now. Jayce looked over at its crumbling form as Viktor picked through a dumpster on the side of a dilapidated building. It probably would have held one of the luckier trenchers, being so close to the bridge.

Viktor found an old child’s toy that had a few gears and screws in it. It would be useful for whenever they got restless, but not for anything more than a bit of tinkering. He put it in the small sack Jayce had sewn anyway.

He turned back towards Jayce, who was leaning on his cane and staring out into the golden city. The shining bronze and pristine white were dull with age and had the same growths of arcane as the undercity did.

Viktor went up to his partner, his own cane clopping against the ground. It felt strange to be using it again, but after his fall and overextension of his bad leg, he found it more difficult to rest his weight on it without feeling sore quickly.

Jayce made him a cane when he had been out. He hadn’t said a word when he handed it to Viktor. Viktor had taken it solemnly and used it as necessary.

“Have you been across the bridge?” Jayce asked once Viktor stopped beside him. Viktor followed Jayce’s gaze. From the bridge, it was a straight shot to the hexgates. If it weren’t for the decay and crumbling of the buildings, it would have been fairly easy for them to go all the way to the top.

“No,” Viktor responded with a sigh. “It never felt right to go without you.” He added. For some reason, he almost felt guilty about it, like he was pushing an obligation onto Jayce.

Jayce sighed and Viktor turned to look at him. The man seemed to have permanent bruises under his eyes, sleeping coming to him less and less as the days went by. His mouth was set in the frown that Viktor noticed more often.

Viktor felt as though they were about to have a conversation. The kind where everything either went horribly wrong or surprisingly right. The kind where one of them broke down into tears for one reason or another.

Instead, Jayce turned his back to the golden city. He limped back towards their humble home, his own cane causing an echo that bounced through the alleyways.

A marionette turned its head to follow him as he passed. 

Viktor and Jayce sat around the fireplace. They had managed to find some wood that would be suitable enough to start a fire. With the lightbulb having finally gone out, and little hope of finding another one that wasn’t completely broken, this was the next best thing.

They sat close to one another, with the blanket around both of their shoulders. It reminded Viktor of those first few days they spent in this world. The two of them had been near inseparable, curling up together at any chance they got.

He wasn’t sure when the change happened, when things got so tense between them. Maybe it was just Jayce having finally realized that he was near cuddling with a murderer who had nearly caused a genocide. He hoped that Jayce hadn’t realized that, or that if he did he didn’t care. He hoped it had been something else.

Jayce had still only been picking at his food, taking meager bites and scrunching up his nose whenever he did. It looked like a genuine struggle to swallow it down. It was worrying Viktor. The days were getting colder and the nights were getting even worse, he needed to eat.

“Is the food not to your tastes?” Viktor asked, because this time he was the one to cook and he had no qualms about guilt tripping his partner into eating. He knew he wasn’t a better cook than Jayce, so it was very likely that he had just happened to mess it up and that was why Jayce was struggling to keep it down.

Jayce let out a huff, a small smile gracing his lips. Those were becoming rarer, Viktor realized. He blamed it on the weather. Jayce had always had a strenuous relationship with the cold, for good reason. Viktor couldn’t imagine how much worse it must be when they were living in these conditions.

Abruptly, Jayce started to cough. They were small huffs at first as he scrunched his nose. Then he started coughing into his fist and trying to clear his throat.

For a moment, Viktor stared. It felt strange being on the other side of something like this. It felt like he was watching himself from another’s eyes. He wondered how long it had taken others to notice that he had been truly sick.

With a blink, he broke out of his stupor. He grabbed the mug of still warm water and handed it to Jayce when he reached for it. The other man seemed to down it in one go, setting it down next to him with a strained exhale.

“Sorry,” Jayce muttered, “must’ve been a tickle in my throat.” He shrugged, looking at Viktor sheepishly.

Viktor looked down at his food before answering.

“It’s alright.” He said softly.

Viktor was sitting at the table, writing in the small notebook he had found around a week ago. It had a couple of pages already filled with various drawings. He had finally given Jayce something to do other than research that wasn’t needed to survive.

He had seemed happier, being able to draw little things. Viktor had even caught Jayce drawing him a couple of times, much to his surprise. It was flattering, and made his chest ache in ways he couldn’t explain.

Viktor enjoyed writing as well, little things like observations of their environment or a few poems. He had banned Jayce from reading those, and in turn promised not to snoop on his private works as well. Though, the urge was still there, and he knew Jayce felt a similar way.

Viktor had been writing down his observations of a plant he had found when their refound peace was broken again. The plant had the same arcane corruption on it, much like the plants he had experimented on with the hexcore. It was scary to think that the device still had so much influence on this place.

Viktor had been writing when he heard something shatter in the kitchen. When he heard the hitching of breath and something falling with a thud.

He sat there a moment, blinking into the doorway that led into the kitchen. Jayce had been making them lunch.

He hurried into the kitchen, practically tripping over his own two feet before steadying himself in the doorway. His breathing was ragged with panic.

Jayce sat against the cabinets next to the stove, shaking and breathing hard. There was a shattered plate next to him, along with scattered ingredients that had fallen with it.

“Jayce!” Viktor exclaimed before rushing over to him and crouching down in front of him. He didn’t react to the call, only sat there, shuddering with each ragged breath. He wasn’t looking at him, more through him, with glazed eyes.

Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder, making the man flinch and let out a sound akin to a whimper. He moved back, terrified of making things worse. He had no idea what he was even supposed to do. He’d never dealt with something like this before.

“Jayce, please, can you hear me?” he asked softly, looking for some kind of recognition. He couldn’t help if Jayce didn’t talk to him and he couldn’t stand not being able to help. He couldn’t just sit there while his partner was shaking on the floor and unresponsive.

He tried several more times to get Jayce’s attention. They all had similar results. The only difference was that Jayce had started to curl in on himself even more, with his hand digging into his hair and his knees pulled to his chest in a way that Viktor knew made his leg twinge.

It was then that Viktor noticed the blood on Jayce’s wrist. The way it was shaking so much more fiercely than the rest of him. Viktor blinked several times, then glanced over to the broken plate.

Blood was on the edges of some of the shards as well.

He turned back to analyze Jayce’s wrist. It was the same that once held his beloved rune, the rune that an older version of Viktor had gifted him to help him discover his dream. It was the rune that had been embedded into his skin and later ripped out when he gave it to Viktor and fulfilled his promise.

During the time that different worries and theories flooded through Viktor’s head, Jayce’s breathing started to get steadier. He was looking at Viktor now, looking as the other man stared dagger at his bleeding wrist. Looking at the blatant concern making his brow furrow.

“Vik?” He asked hoarsely, breaking the other man out of his stupor.

Viktor visibly flinched, but quickly recovered. He sat there with his arms outstretched for a moment, wondering if he still shouldn’t touch. The urge to hug Jayce was so perilously great. It was another foreign feeling that he wasn’t sure whether to loathe or accept.

Before he could make up his mind, Jayce grabbed his wrists and pulled him against his chest. Viktor gasped quietly, sucking in a breath. He placed his hands on Jayce’s shoulders and gripped them firmly.

“Wh-what happened?” He asked, somehow sounding worse than Jayce. He grasped Jayce’s shoulder in a death grip, like if he even thought of letting go, the other man would dissolve through his fingertips.

“I’m okay,” Jayce reassured. And how cruel was Viktor to be the one in need of reassurance? “Just-” He broke off, not yet ready to speak.

Viktor was torn between forcing it out of Jayce, of finding a way to make sure whatever just happened would never happen again, and giving him the time he needed. He bit his lips to keep his endless questions from flowing.

For a long time they remained silent. Jayce’s breathing became shallower and calmer, smooth like the morning shore. All the while Viktor had never felt so high-strung. Viktor was walking on a tight-rope, so precariously that the faintest gust of wind would make him fall.

The wind blew, and he couldn’t resist leaving himself with so many questions. He was a scientist, after all.

“What happened?” He asked again, forcefully this time. He felt Jayce’s shoulders tense, he felt the way Jayce’s jaw set firmly and his chest stuttered with another hiccuping breath. Viktor pulled away to look him in the eyes, though he kept his hands on Jayce’s shoulders.

“It just-” he tried again, pausing a moment before he fully regained his voice, “happens, sometimes.” He forced out, the words biting like a snake.

“What does?” Viktor interrogated. He felt more and more uneasy with each breath. He squeezed Jayce’s shoulders, his fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Sometimes I’m reminded of the bad things that happened and I just shut off, I don’t know.” He snapped, not looking Viktor in the eyes. The other man could see them anyway, how they were red-rimmed and still a little hazy.

“What set it off?”

“The smell.” he muttered, nodding towards one of the newt he had been chopping up to cook.

Viktor wrinkled his nose as he looked at its bloodied form. If he really paid attention, he could smell rot. The thing had gone bad, it had probably been stuffed in the back of their small pantry.

Viktor felt a pang of sorrow strike his gut. He let go of Jayce’s shoulders.

In a way, Viktor was still the cause for Jayce’s grief. Perhaps if he had never left in the first place, Jayce would have had no reason to go to the hexgates. And was it not him that left Jayce in that cave to rot for so long? Was it not him that had in some way caused all of their problems?

Neither of the two men looked at each other. Eventually, Jayce stood and went into the living room. Viktor soon heard the ruffling of covers as Jayce decided to rest early.

Viktor threw out the rotten newt, and any others that he suspected.

It was the middle of the night. Neither of them were sleeping, though they were both lying down on their shitty mattress, holding each other tightly. VIktor didn’t think that Jayce had slept the entire half day he had been laying in bed. Viktor couldn’t fault him for it.

There was something dark unfurling in Jayce’s mind. Viktor could practically see it emerging in real time. He ate less. He worked less. He even slept less now. It was all too similar to his own experiences for Viktor to not be at peace as well.

Something was in his own mind too. Something that whispered and taunted and told him to leave Jayce be. It told him that this kind, loving, beautiful man was not meant for him. It told him that he was infecting Jayce with his darkness and would continue to do so until one of them died.

He closed his eyes, willing the darkness away. It would not leave, no matter how far he pushed it away. It was always at the edge of his mind, rearing its head when he was at his weakest.

He had never felt so weak as he did now.

He was accustomed to being weak, to not being able to do things everyone else could. He was used to the days he couldn’t stand without falling, to the days he couldn’t even make himself get out of bed because the pain was so great.

He was not accustomed to being useless. To having to sit back and watch as someone he loved so dearly rotted away. He was not used to having to observe from a distance, where the only thing he could do was place a hand on his shoulder, or give him a hug once the worst of an episode was over. It all felt worthless in the long run.

Was this what Jayce had dealt with when Viktor had been dying? Had he felt as useless as Viktor did now? Did he cry and pray and beg t whatever higher being existed that things would not end this way? That he would still be given a second chance?

They both had been given what felt like a million chances, each they somehow messed up worse than the last.

The first second chance must have been when they first proved Hextech’s worth. How he longed to go back to those first days. To the time when Viktor’s illness was far enough away that he could live in the moment. He longed to go back to something as simple as the Innovator's Competition.

They would never be given another simple life like that again. And it was all his fault.

“What are you thinking about?” Jayce asked, cutting into the agonizing silence. It felt like he had just broken some kind of rule. Whenever they had both been stuck awake they only lied there in silence.

“Why don’t you hate me?” He blurted. He didn’t know the words were on his tongue. Nevertheless, they pushed their way past his lips.

“How could I?” Jayce whispered back.

“I’ve ruined everything. I killed so many people. I left you in a cave for weeks. I’ve been so cruel to you while we’ve been here.” Viktor said, listing every transgression he could in the moment. There were so many more. There were endless reasons for Jayce to hate him, to throw him away like the sump rat he was.

“All I do is make mistakes.” He finished weakly. He looked down at the pillow his head was against. He could not meet Jayce’s eyes at this moment, he couldn’t.

“The times I’ve spent with you have been the best times of my life, Viktor.” Jayce started, his voice so achingly soft. Viktor silently begged him to stop talking.

“The nights spent working in the lab when we could barely talk without sounding like we were high, one of those nights had been the first time I had heard you really laugh. I thought it was the most beautiful sound.” Jayce paused as he let out a small sigh. “Those few times I convinced you to go to brunch with me and you got the most obscenely sweet thing you could find,” stop, stop, stop Jayce had to stop!

“That first time I got you to go to one of those stupid galas with me, and you wore the most stunning suit. It was the dark purple one, almost black, with all the gold accents. All I could think about was that it would have been perfect if you had some Talis red on you.” Viktor closed his eyes tightly. He sucked in a breath.

“The first night we met,” Jayce gently wiped a tear that had snuck its way down Viktor’s cheek, “When you convinced me to fight for my dream with every tooth and nail.” He rubbed his thumb along Viktor’s cheek bone. He couldn’t keep his eyes shut any longer.

Viktor stared into Jayce’s hazel eyes. The eyes that were so sweet, and beautiful, and made him feel loved even though he deserved all the hate that the world could throw at him. His breath hitched, and it suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe at all.

“When you gave me a reason to live.��� Jayce finished quietly. It felt like he was saying a vow. Viktor didn’t think he had ever seen the man wear such a bright smile. After days of nothing but small smirks that looked like he was being held at gunpoint, Viktor felt like he was staring at the galaxy itself. He was suddenly surrounded by so much color once again. And once again, the hazel stood out the brightest.

“What are we?” Viktor asked, because it had been eating him alive for the past few months that they had been entirely alone together, and if he had to wonder for another minute he would be devoured.

“Does it matter?” Jayce asked with a huff, “We’re together. I love you.”

Viktor cried then, fully cried. He felt tears track down his cheeks and snot dribble down his nose. He must have been disgusting. He must have been disgusting, but Jayce leaned in anyway.

He was horrible, and worthless, and was the reason everything had gone wrong. But Jayce still pressed his lips to Viktor’s and muttered a million promises that he would stay with him forever.

End Notes: kiss kiss smooch time <3 I'm gonna be real I do not enjoy writing kiss scenes and I cannot write smut so you guys get abstract kisses where your dirty little minds can wander whereever they want to go (or you can be really cutesy with it and give them cuddle time) anyways, things will still be getting worse and I've thought of a bad ending to give them so… (maybe it'll be a grey area ending tho I have a few different ideas) also I'm gonna guess that there are about 2 more chapters left (always subject to change) so yeah :) also fun fact I was debating making this chapter the last one and then I realized that I left so many plot holes and I still wanted them suffer I love you guys so much and you guys please manifest a snow day on friday the weather says it'll snow but my school system is borderline abusive and might not give us a snow day so let's all use the magic of friendship and summon it together!!! (If I sound insane it's because I'm horribly sleep deprived because my sleep schedule is majorly fucked :D) anyways, thx for reading! I always appreciate comments and try to reply to as many as I can <3

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

I wrote this a while ago but I fell back onto it while I was warming up on writing and decided to revise it and post it on ao3!

Ao3 link

Eddie skimmed the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was interested in. He would forget about it somewhere in his room anyway and choose one of the Lord of the Rings books to read again. Instead, he lets himself wander through his thoughts, lost in some random DnD scenario he had made up that involved him fighting a group of dragons. Letting his body go on autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of every book in his reach mindlessly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he made a mental note to include this scenario in one of his campaigns later. He was sure the boys would enjoy it, especially Gareth, who had anger issues and loved releasing some of that energy onto a fictional dragon.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego. That hurt worse than being hit in the face. Physical Pain he could handle, but his poor innocent ego could not handle the abuse.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. He prepares to loop through the next aisle but nearly jumps out of his skin when he almost falls over another person sitting down with their back pressed to the shelf.

A croak-like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face-first into the carpet. He stumbles forward a bit and catches his balance on the shelf to the left of him. His heart races as he secretly prays to everything holy that he didn’t somehow knock the entire shelf over. That would be his luck and land him in an infinite amount of after-school detention.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier than normal purposely putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a beat-up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror movie had a crossover with reality. His eyes, or singular eye, were glossed over and wide as he started stuttering over his words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic. If that's not the case, Eddie would assume Steve had been cringing at his words slurring together. That was the only logical answer as there was no way Steve Harrington was cringing at him.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand that he was referencing DnD and not something gay. But for all, Eddie knew Steve probably correlated Dnd with weird faggots anyway.

He begins to walk away, wanting the awkward interaction to be over so that he can move on and cringe at the whole situation on a random night in the future. But he can’t help but be a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks a hip out. He has an unreadable smile, his teeth showing in a weak attempt at being somewhat civil with the other, but he still wanted to have his guard up just in case.

He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did like was to know some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him for backup reasons aka blackmail.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur like he is drunk. Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober and fully aware of his surroundings. (Besides the possibility of tripping someone up by sitting on the corner of a damn shelf but that is beside the point)

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. He purposely forces his eyelids open with one hand and jokingly presses a fingertip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye he brings two thumbs up and comments, “We are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts not wasting a second to retort in response to the other as he shakes his head amused. His body tenses up a bit as he goes pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breaths as his fists tighten around the book he is holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms off his chest and takes a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. He makes sure to leave a few inches between the two of them, far enough to not be to close but close enough to catch the other if he slumped over.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusts himself. “Yeah- just moved my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently. Eddie did not know what he meant, didn't know how to respond, and when he didn't know how to react he normally shot off an awkward quip or two.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. I Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He then lifts his hand and runs one of his rings against the bottom of his lip (a nervous tic of his) before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing rather than concerned. The longer he stayed around this guy the more he was convinced that he needed to get the book read ASAP.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stops himself before making that mistake again. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff. Where Eddie was crouched he could see the other boy's eyes watering.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounds like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers and wants nothing to do with me now. And I don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. He furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.” He spits it out before he can fully think about it. He was an impulsive person who didn't like seeing people struggle what could he say?

But Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart to the other as he still had doubts about the other. Plus he had to keep up the image he had going on or people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals around here. And he didn’t want to ruin said image by helping Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.” Good, at least Eddie wasn't the only skeptic here.

Even though he was very skeptical Eddie still felt a little shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept and money had to be made somehow.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other before he does a playful salute and stands up fully. he hesitates for a moment longer tempted to ask the other if he needs help from the nurse but Eddie decides he is already giving enough charity as is and begins back on his path of slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Evan Ross Katz (2024)

Whether he’s carrying Kylie Minogue to the Hyde Park Festival stage with his pal Andrew Scott, making the Internet go collectively feral for merely running a half marathon, chasing dinosaurs (in the upcoming Jurassic World reboot), romancing Matt Bomer (in Fellow Travelers) or Simone Ashley (in Bridgerton) or Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo (in Wicked) or, with his most recent venture, launching an LGBTQ+-focused charity, it seems Jonathan Bailey is always up to something. And yet, he still makes time, from his hotel room in Thailand (where he’s shooting Jurassic World 4), to hop on a Zoom with me to catch up.

We discuss everything from chafed nipples to queer shame to who he’d like to see in the “Drink Your Milk” T-shirt to if we’ll see him on Broadway any time soon, which is to say it’s a brief but wide-ranging chat.

I haven't seen you since the Met Gala! When we last spoke, you were prepping for your first half marathon. I obviously saw the viral photos that went around of you at the finish line, but how did it go?

You know, I should have put those nipple stickers on. That's my main takeaway. 

[Laughs] Did you bleed?

I did a bit, yeah. Did you? I know you've done a couple of marathons. 

I did bleed, and I didn't know about the bleeding beforehand. It's not something you really hear about but it's painful and uncomfortable.

Totally! And not even just beforehand: It took ‘til 4 hours later when my best friend told me there was evidence [of the bleeding]. But anyways… it was euphoric!

At least there was no photo evidence of that element!

Exactly! So thankfully, it's done. But it's just the most amazing thing, isn't it? And the community as well. Hackney Moves is amazing and they raised loads of money. It was the Bridgerton [Season 3 release] week so I feel like you could sort of harness that.

I do have to ask you a pressing question: Days ago, it was announced that Wicked had moved up its release date and will now be released the same day as Ridley Scott's Gladiator 2. Many online were affectionately calling this Barbenheimer 2.0, which led many to try and speculate about a proper portmanteau. Jon Chu wrote on Instagram that the consensus seems to be “Glicked,” which you reposted on Instagram, signaling a cosign. But I have to ask you, Johnny: Are you not considering“Wickediator”?

I love it. Whatever Jon Chu has ever said to me, I’ve taken as gospel, so I actually hadn't explored all the other options. The one that I've now heard since then which is making me reconsider everything is “Gladicked.” [Laughs] It's quite good, isn’t it? 

Yes! To me, “Glicked” feels too Wicked-skewed and then “Wickediator” is just clunky AF, so I like where you're at. 

We want it to be equal footing for sure. Another thing that I love that went viral is someone going: “Oh, brilliant. A film for the ladies and a film for the ladies.” [Laughs] 

I am both ladies! 

Oh, yes. Me too! 

Let’s talk The Shameless Fund, the charity you founded to raise money for LGBTQ+ nonprofit organizations. Can you tell me about the formation of this project?

It's been a labor of love over the last three or four years. It's been quite an organic experience, mainly inspired by Fellow Travelers, hence why I started with a collaboration which references a very specific scene and a performance by Matt Bomer.

I think through Covid and Bridgerton coming out, I found that there’s a real sense in the queer community about awareness of people who came before you and other experiences. And then obviously in Fellow Travelers, which explicitly explores that, the character I played was sort of on the front all the way through a very complicated experience for gay men at that time.

He experienced real moments of blooming liberation and quite insane amounts of oppression as well, and he was always fighting. He ends up becoming an activist, essentially, and I think it was in playing that part — which was kind of spiritual for me and for everyone who's involved in it — that I was like: Right, okay. I know that I've got this idea in my head and having experienced how much love there is for things like Bridgerton and how much money there is in collaboration, I felt that there's so many things I had said “no” to because it didn't feel quite right for me but if there was a world in which I could marry all of it in a creative sort of cocktail, then why not? And to give back to the community that I so love, and also, I'm a massive beneficiary of the work that the people that came before us did, so that's where it came to fruition from. 

You collaborated with our dear friend Jonathan Anderson, the creative director of Loewe, on a T-shirt with a memorable quote from Fellow Travelers to promote the launch of The Shameless Fund. How did this collaboration come to be?

During the strikes during the filming of Wicked, I went on a run one day and this idea of a T-shirt came into my head in full form. Then I sat next to Jonathan [at a Studio Voltaire fundraiser], and he’s lovely and brilliant and naughty and has a foundation, so it was all kind of organic.

Then I went over to DC to present Matt Bomer with an award for the Human Rights Campaign and it was really galvanizing to experience the American fervor. It was a gala, and the energy in the room was absolutely wild and there were amazing stories on stage. I texted Jonathan and I said: “Look, I have an idea and it involves milk and a T-shirt. What do you think?” and he said: “Call me tomorrow,” and then he said yes within the same phone call. I just felt tentative because it’s the sort of thing where you ask and you don't know, but then it went from there. 

I do recall first seeing a photo of you in the shirt several months ago during a night out with the Loewe team in China…

I went to the Loewe exhibition in Shanghai, which was incredible, and that night, we had quite a big night out and I wore the T-shirt because I’d been given the first prototype.

I was having a little boogie and [Anderson] uploaded it whilst I had no access to the Western World — my phone was off the whole time. So by the time I came home, you could see that people were gonna go wild for the T-shirt. Now, it's sold out and we're gonna get some more and it'll be a first step for The Shameless Fund to raise some money. 

Jonathan Anderson did my and my husband's wedding looks and I had to send him that same initial text to be like: “Can one even ask this?”

That's what's so brilliant in life: People who have the ability to collaborate, and that's just what Jonathan does.

One thing that you said just now that struck me is: “Why not?” I interview a lot of people in your profession and they're not asking that question all the time. A lot of people say:

“Oh, there's lots of money I can make. I can have more money. I can have more things for myself.”

Why are you a “why not?” person rather than a “why”? Is that something that was imbued in you by your family and your upbringing or is it how you've always been?

I don't know. I just feel quite strongly emotionally. I sense injustice in certain places, and I think what comes with success — especially being a gay actor — is that you think: “Hang on a minute. Are there limitations? Are there glass ceilings?”

When you experience success that you never thought you would and you grew up thinking that you're limited because of your identity and who you are, I think about the people that have supported me and the people that were really pioneering, but also, the actual heroes who do the real work; the people who work for these nonprofits and these charities where the majority of their energy is spent trying to raise money. When Bridgerton came out, I was inundated with requests to help draw attention to [these organizations] or raise money or donate things that they could sell, so that's where the kernel of this idea came from. All my life, I’ve been thinking about how I can give back.

It's not for nothing that you call this The Shameless Fund. We grew up at a time when, and I don't know if this is the same for you, but I didn't know that gay people existed. I thought I was the only one because I didn't have access to the kind of media kids do today where you can go on Instagram and see that gay is not only acceptable; it's cool. There's this very significant paradigm shift. I feel like a lot of gay men of our generation felt this shame as young people and often spend a lot of our adult lives working to rid ourselves of it. What is it for you about this idea of shame? 

I totally agree in terms of generations. I think the queer experience changes every five years. Even with some of my friends who are 10 years older than me — it's just so specific to cultural moments and representation as well, as you're saying. But I think my understanding of shame, especially having experienced Fellow Travelers, is that it permeates. It's not just a community that experiences the shame; it's the people around them. It's the parents who don't understand it and kick their kids out of their house. It's the sisters, it’s the cousins, it's the nephews, it's the children that are in broken families because of it. It's actually so toxic, that sense of self-hatred. That’s why The Shameless Fund is actually something that I hope is going to benefit everyone, even beyond the community itself.

Also, the older we get and because of the world we live in now, you can read The Velvet Rage and you can read Matthew Todd’s Straight Jacket and you can explore and have conversations with your friends that are really enlightening and you can have therapy, if you're lucky enough that you can afford to do that. As a 36-year-old now, I look back and I just go: “My God, I had such a loving family and yet I was still so isolated and so crippled.”

Shame can stop people from having a proper education and from being able to structure proper emotional relationships, like fundamental relationships with their family, which is the one place you're supposed to feel safe. It's flawed if the family is not aware of what you're going through. 

How did you come up with the name?

I did have other names [in mind for The Shameless Fund], but we won't go into them. One was so aggressive! [Laughs] But “The Shameless Fund” felt punk enough and fundamental enough. To me, I think that to be without shame is to be able to be joyful and to be able to thrive and to be able to learn and have a bloody good time whilst doing all those things, so it just felt right that it should be targeting shame because then hopefully it benefits the whole community in every color on the pride flag and, in turn, will also help so many people around them. 

So what can people expect next?

There's going to be some really fun things coming with The Shameless Fund and there's different ways in which it can grow, but I have people who really know what they're doing who are helping lead it. By the end of the year, we'll hopefully have worked with three different charities, starting small and helping people understand the work they're doing because that's the most important thing. If you think about Instagram, other than chatting with Evan Ross Katz [laughs], that's the platform through which you can really draw attention to things. Literally anyone in our community who's thriving at the moment — in a community that's obviously under threat going forward — knows what it's like to receive support. We know what we missed growing up.

I, too, grew up with an accepting family, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still feel ostracized. I appreciate you recognizing that nuance, one I think many of us experience in some form but don’t always discuss.

Now, on The Shameless Fund’s website, it does say that more collaborations are coming. As you said, there’s going to be a restock of the Loewe shirts, but are there other brands in the mix?

There are other brands, and it'll be really exciting because the scope is endless, but I definitely had a couple of other ideas. After Fellow Travelers, the next thing will be a Wicked garment, so you might have to keep your eyes out for that. Maybe jumpers and sexy boots?

That’s perfect for my fantasy! So we've seen Kylie Minogue wearing the shirt — who I was lucky enough to be introduced to by you on the dance floor at the Met Gala after-party, thanks again — and we've seen Kit Connor, Scarlett Johansson and your Bridgerton co-star Luke Newton sporting it as well. I'm wondering who else is on your wishlist of celebrities that you'd like to see in the Drink Your Milk T-shirt?

Oh, God. What a question! Great shout. I would love to see Jerrod Carmichael in it right now. Very specifically Jerrod Carmichael. 

I feel that.

I would also love to see Hanson in it. Their three-part harmonies are a knockout at the moment.

At the moment?

[Laughs] We were just talking about this today. I’ve literally just come away from a field where I was running towards or away from dinosaurs, and we were talking about Hanson for about four hours today and listening to their three-part harmonies. 

That is not what I was expecting.

Who else? I can only think of people who are going to be wearing it over the next few weeks, which is quite exciting. Is there anyone you want to see in it? 

I have quite a few people. First of all, Jamie Dornan. I would love to see him in it. Paul Mescal, for obvious reasons. And the fans are waiting for Matt Bomer!

Don’t you worry. They’ll be satiated! They’ll be quenched. And Andrew Scott had a good time at Glastonbury is what I’ll say. [Laughs]

I bet he did! Last but not least: Richard II is bringing you back to the stage. Wicked is giving us the musical theater moment we've been craving. Is there a musical theater moment that’ll be live on stage in Jonathan Bailey's future?

Potentially, actually. Maybe in 2026. 

On Broadway?

I would! I had the best time recently in New York and I watched as many things as I could. I saw Stereophonic, which, to me, was like a religious experience. That, and Oh, Mary! And Cole Escola.

That is what it's about. I would come back to watch that; I was so inspired by it. Obviously, I'd love to [be on Broadway] at some point and you just have to wait and see what pops up. 

Source

[physalian]

So, I’ve written posts utterly baffled by writers who think tackling the intimate nuances and complexities of minorities/ disabilities/ neurodivergences that they don’t have based on ego and research is just easy and no one will notice. But like… there aren’t rules for any of these demographics. All aces don’t think the same way, that’s why there’s like 20 different specific labels under the ace/demi umbrella.

But the reason I don’t think anyone can get by on research alone if this character’s quirk (for simplicity’s sake) is the whole plot and their defining feature is this: There is no ‘default’ person and the 50s-esque model citizen was a caricature. Odds are somebody isn’t “perfectly normal” just with one little outlier trait. We’re all different mixes and blends so saying “I’m gonna write a gay dude, I read this one blog by a gay dude and I’m an expert” is just. No.

This is also assuming that it’s realistic for your character to be absolutely certain about themselves and can diagnose or label themselves with medical accuracy. We’re all just vibin’, you know? Some might, and kudos to them, still wierd to so confidently write something you researched like cramming the night before a final.

Like, if you tell me you wrote an ace, and you yourself are straight or simply not ace and have no ace friends or relatives and just thought it would be cool, but your book is an intense deep-dive into asexuality, I’d bet very good money that it is not, in fact, a deep dive into asexuality, just your extrapolation based on a modicum of research and your own biases.

You’re missing out on so much personal context. I’m ace. Also, possibly aro? But also unofficially diagnosed as autistic and I can’t get a real diagnosis because reasons. And everyone is different so I don’t know where the boundary lies between “this is an autistic thing” and “this is an ace thing” and “this is an aro” thing. You, intrepid author, can’t expect to articulate that if a real person living with it can’t.

You can’t articulate it, because I can’t articulate it, and I’m probably contradicting myself all over the place in a giant game of mental Twister. Like. Romance sounds great, but I’m also fiercely independent and am too used to doing everything alone to actually picture being a healthy team and not having to carry it like groupwork in high school. That image just does not compute.

Or, romance sounds great, but I can’t love you the way you expect and odds are I’m not going to want to sleep with you… but I’ll watch your favorite TV show with you and I’ll buy you that box of candy that you probably forgot you mentioned wistfully wanting last week and I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked with your favorite snack and I’ll do the driving and I’ll text you memes and funny pictures and song recommendations to make you smile and I’ll do 100 other things desperately trying to make up for the guilt of both wanting you to find me attractive, but not actually finding you attractive, but it's actually finding the effort I make and the choices within my power that I want you to find attractive and not 'nice ass' or whatever, of wanting you around and wanting love, but not wanting sex and I guess if you cheat but it's "just sex" I have to deal because you've got "needs" and you're "normal" and I'm lucky to have you around without putting out. While simultaneously daydreaming about an imaginary person who doesn't expect those 100 other things done from guilt, but I got bills to pay and can't be selfish and, well, that person doesn't exist.

But sure, your ace is gutwrechingly realistic because they're an android or an alien and are incapable of a sex drive anyway and not human because, what? All humans have a sex drive, you donut. You just haven't met the right person yet.

No one is just one thing in isolation and otherwise “perfectly normal”. The arrogance and naivety it takes from so many writers who think this can’t be shocked when the negative feedback comes in. Write inclusively. Do not write the deeply personal struggles of a life you did not live, that someone reading your book can look at and think, wow, I can’t believe how wrong they got it. Do I expect to read a perfect copy of myself in someone else's ace charcater? No. Every ace is different, but there's the "ace" flag for a reason.

[ladykailitha]

The Rake and the Knight

Just a little story that kept running through my head at work until I wrote it down.

Enjoy!

***

Steve and Eddie both are secretly gay. But go about hiding it in very different ways.

Steve is a rake, a womanizer. He sleeps his way through the female population of Hawkins High, trying to feel something. (He doesn’t know he’s gay at this point, but he’s searching for a connection he doesn’t find with women.)

Eddie on the other hand is a charmer, a white knight. Always chivalrous and sweet. He’ll take girls out, be super polite, have the girl home by nine. Every girl’s dream. But he never goes farther than kissing their hands, because he knows what he is. That he’s attracted to men. But he knows how to hide in plain sight.

After Venca, Steve’s waiting for Eddie to wake up and he realizes the reason it never worked out with any of those girls is because he’s attracted to men. To Eddie. And he feels hollowed out by the realization.

He talks to Robin and she’s so proud of him for coming to her when he’s questioning everything. Robin makes him feel seen. Safe.

Eddie wakes up and asks how things went with Nancy. Steve tells him that Nancy might still have feelings for him, but he doesn’t have feelings for her anymore. Because he has feelings for someone else.

Eddie is curious and asks what attracted Steve to this person. Steve mentions the eyes first because the real first thing he noticed about them was their hands. Eddie laughs at that. How did he notice the person’s hands first? Steve tells him that like Steve this person likes to talk with their hands. Always waving them about. It wasn’t until Steve got closer that he noticed how pretty their eyes were.

Steve says they’re brown. But not like his. Their eyes sparkle and shine. Not like his muddy brown. Eddie tells him that his eyes are pretty too. Steve just isn’t able to see how they shine, too. Steve blushes.

He says there is another thing he finds attractive about this person, but it’s so cliche. Eddie laughs and asks if it’s their smile. Steve blushes again. He can’t seem to stop blushing, but he nods anyway.

All the while, Steve is deliberate with the pronouns. And then Eddie asks him what this person is like. And Steve who had been so careful, so diligent slips up and says he is funny. He is kind. He is so brave. The more he talks about this person, the more animated he gets until it becomes clear. He’s talking about Eddie to Eddie.

Steve realizes his mistake when he brings up D&D. He stops, horrified. He leaps to his feet so fast that he knocks over the chair. He starts babbling apologies and tries to leave.

Eddie stops him, begs him to stay. Steve is stricken and asks how Eddie could want him around after that. Explains that he only recently found out he likes boys. Just boys.  

Eddie reveals that he’s gay, too. Steve doesn’t believe him. He knows Eddie’s reputation. Steve was the rake and Eddie was the knight. Every girl Steve had ever been with talked about what a charmer Eddie was. How gentlemanly he was. And Eddie finishes, and how careful he was.

Steve’s eyes grow wide with the implication. That Eddie had to be careful because he knew what the alternative would be.

Eddie tells him when he was younger he had a hard time telling girls no, so he would go on dates with them, treat them well, but the thought of kissing them or sleeping with them made his skin crawl. But soon they would tire of the not even getting up to bat, much less first base, and break up with him. Until the next one came along.

He explains that probably if Chrissy had survived, she would have asked him out and he would have said yes and repeated the whole charade yet again. He is still upset she died. But he is a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to go through with that again.

Steve smiles, finally understanding and tells him that he’ll never have to go through that song and dance again, if Eddie would have him.

Eddie breathes out a single yes and Steve’s lips are on his and all he feels is bliss.

Sheer bliss.

All the rake needed to settle down was to find his knight in shining armor. And Steve found his in Eddie.

[space-apples]

@stiffyck hello again

it was asked for by like two people, though i am but a humble man who is easily swayed so here we go with another round of fluffy (qpr) scarian headcanons

part one if you missed it :3

- scar is a lot smarter than people credit him for (but i also like to hc that he pretends to not know things). he likes to call grian over complicated words that don’t sound real when they are. like, “you’re so pulchritudinous <3,” and grian thinks he’s making that up (he isn’t. that word means beautiful) (also grian isn’t one of those people who think he’s dumb) (he just has never heard of these words before).

- we all have that grian gives scar a feather (and then wears it as an earring) and i like to think scar is a zombie because it’s so fucking funny to imagine scar giving grian one of his limbs as a present (he’ll resew it later i just think it's funny) because he wants to be as loving as grian is for giving him the feather. i like to think it isn't painful, and every time he does it he tells grian "now we can always hold hands"

- grian is always cold always always cold but his hands are warm and everything. scar is the complete opposite <3. they hold hands very often <3. everywhere they go <3.

- in the desert sometimes grian wouldn’t come inside at night and scar would go out looking for him and it was always just grian looking up and stargazing (and scar always ended up joining him)

- they stim together i don’t know what you want from me

- when scar preens grian's wings he is just constantly complimenting them (i mean he compliments them anyways but this is more silly because grian is so bird brain)

- scar knows flower language and talks about it and grian avidly tries to remember everything so he can give flowers with cute meanings to him

- during season eight while heavily sleep deprived they just had this whole conversation that was a whole fucking rollercoaster of emotions. like they started talking about how watermelons need to have a lot of liquid in it to be good, to talking about their incredibly traumatic pasts, to playfully arguing about whether pineapple goes on pizza, to then talking about pizza and third life in general about how it affected them (because being beat up by your best friend basically partner would also be traumatic for scar and not just grian), blahblah blah etc they're gay

- one time scar tried on grians sweater giggles it was silly

- they write letters to each other for no reason at all, they just want to.

- like they live next to each other, and also the letters aren't actually that long one time. scar wrote a letter one time that said "Hi Grian :D" the end

- grian subconsciously wraps his wings around scar while they're asleep <3

god they're so cute i fucking hate them god

anywasys let me know if you want more !!!! i'm telling you i have a whole bunch

[mischieffoal]

Kugrash; Rat Jesus; Bruce Kugrich; you know him, you love him - is a repressed, closeted, gay man. In this essay I will… tell you why I think that, I actually wrote the essay. (It’s not an essay it’s a long text post, it doesn’t have an introduction or a conclusion or citations don’t come for me)

Anyway, I’ve just finished The Unsleeping City chapters 1 and 2 and Kugrash has infested my brain and wormed his slimy way around my heart. I don’t need to proselytise him, if you’re reading this post you already understand the appeal of a crusty, washed-up rat bastard of a terrible father who’s trying to make up for everything he’s ever done. What I particularly loved about him was that he is gay-coded in such a specific way that it makes the poor little meow meow of it all even worse. Was it on purpose? I doubt it. But it certainly is there. 

(I doubt it was on purpose because the joy of D20 is that all the characters are kind of just pan unless specified otherwise and homophobia is only a thing that villains do in the first five minutes of a character’s introduction. So it’s like, I doubt Murph did this on purpose because he’s probably just being very queer friendly and it comes across this way because of the Kugrash of it all)

Evidence that I remembered to write down is as follows: 

Perry the Pigeon

Kug doesn’t actually want to date Perry, but he doesn't object to going to the wedding with him/sort of leads him on/definitely flirts with him/tries to let him down nicely. 

Murph did just choose the name Perry at random. Could have been a girl pigeon, but no. 

Perry is serious about Kugrash. Like, “still mourning him” serious. 

Perry isn’t only into Kug, he is an established gay pigeon who later marries another man (/rabbit)

2. The Kugriches

When the other PCs tell Wally there’s a pigeon with a crush on his dad, Wally immediately asks “What’s his name?”

Wally and David’s mum is out of the picture. David said that Bruce abandoned them when Wally really needed him, which I think implies she’s been gone since before Kugrash was cursed. Why? Who knows, Bruce was a bastard in many ways - but if his sexuality was so obvious that their son can only imagine his dad dating a male pigeon, it was probably obvious to Bruce’s ex. 

3. Lowell Masters

Kingston: finds out Lowell can Identify things by sticking them up his ass Kingston, two seconds later, pointing at his good friend Kugrash: “This man, what is this man?" Lowell: gives Kugrash an ass jacket Kugrash: “Yeah, yeah, sure thanks, appreciate it.”  Kugrash: “I smell like lube now instead of trash.” Kugrash: “We’ll link up at some point”

4. The totems

All men. When the Intrepid Heroes came up with what their totem animals would be in an Adventuring Party, they weren’t particularly gendered, but weren’t sentient either, so who knows what that’s worth

Perry (see Point 1)

The campest unicorn you’ve ever seen or heard in your life

5. Best friends with a hairdresser

6. “You goddamn beautiful boy, you fucker, you absolute arsehole.” I get it, Kug. Ricky does it to us all. 

To me, all of this implies Kugrash is gay, but quietly. He’s certainly not out-and-proud like Pete is, but his children know. Did he tell them or was it obvious? I don’t think Kugrash knows. I think he’s closeted to no-one but himself. A business man in the 1980s isn’t the most likely guy to have searched his soul for any sexual deviancy, and since then he’s been very busy being depressed/ashamed/a literal rat in the sewers. Misty and Kingston do a lot of work to pull him out of the underground and actually talk to human beings again. They know he’s gay, from the things they say about him (see in particular Point 3: Lowell Masters). I don’t think Kugrash would have ever had a “gay awakening” or a “gay panic” if he’d stayed on the mortal plane, I doubt his sexuality would be that shocking or confusing - I just don’t think he’s noticed. 

Being cursed into a ratman gives you the space to learn all sorts of things about yourself, and if that doesn’t quite work, you can always eat an everything bagel and become omniscient, when you can finally realise that Bruce Kugrich was in fact gay the whole time.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. 

[daisyishedwig]

Imma share two scenes from the same fic tody because I wrote them both last night. These are both from when you hold me it holds me together, one is Seblaine focused and the other is the Hevans scene I didn't fully intend to write. First we'll start with the Seblaine scene, since it is a Seblaine fic of course.

“You’re hurt, Bas.”

“I’m fine,” he whispered into Blaine’s ear, giving a sharp nip to the lobe. 

“No you’re not,” Blaine said, gripping Sebastian’s wrist tightly and removing it from his pants. “We have no idea what condition your ribs are in, they’re still hurting you and adding stress to them could make them worse.”

“My ribs don’t affect my ability to give a hand job,” Sebastian said, and edge of petulance slipping into his voice.

“But physical exertion leads to heavy breathing and heavy breathing is bad when you have multiple broken ribs.” Blaine squirmed around so he could face Sebastian, leveling a stern gaze at him.

“Maybe I can’t get off right now, but you still can,” Sebastian argued. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“Why?” Blaine pressed. 

“Do I need a reason for wanting to jerk my boyfriend off? I’d much rather give you a blow job but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Maybe you don’t need a reason, but you certainly have one. Spill it.”

Sebastian’s bottom lip jutted out but he said nothing.

“Sebastian,” Blane hissed.

“What?” he snapped, his chin trembling. “You just… you’re so tense. And angry. And I don’t know how to fix that in anyway other than sex.”

Blaine deflated. “It’s not your job to fix it, Seb.”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that the exchange? You keep me safe, I make you forget everything for a while. Help you let go so the rest of the world goes away and it’s just us. Let me make it just us,” Sebastian pleaded. 

Blaine kissed him, an attempt to soothe, to distract, but Sebastian pulled away instead of letting Blaine pull him closer. 

“Is it because Kurt’s here?”

And the Hevans scene

Kurt turned towards the stairs to leave, to hide in his bedroom until the weekend was over and he could return to Dalton. But Sam snagged him by the elbow and pulled Kurt into him. Kurt stiffened and tried to squirm away but Sam held firm, cupping the back of his head gently until he caved and buried his face in Sam’s neck. 

Kurt was still unused to affection from men who weren’t Blaine or his father. He’d spent so many years feeling like a leper that noone wanted to touch lest they catch the gay. And sure, the warblers were generally affectionate, but in that strictly boyish way, shoulder punches and side hugs and maybe a congenial arm across his shoulders for a moment. Finn and Puck followed much the same route when it came to touching Kurt.

But something had shifted in Sam after Kurt transferred, and these kinds of hugs were typical, even if they still caught Kurt off guard everytime. Kurt’s fingers gripped the fabric of Sam’s shirt tight as he muffled a quiet sob in his shoulder. Kurt let himself cry in Sam’s arm for a count of ten before he took a steadying breath and pushed away from him. 

Sam was frowning at him as he watched Kurt center himself. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. 

“Sam,” Kurt sighed. 

“You can take the comfort, Kurt.”

“Not now, not with Blaine in the house.”

“He doesn’t care,” Sam argued taking a step forward. Kurt shuffled further away from him. “He’s too distracted by Sebastian to care what’s happening with us–”

“There is no us, Sam. Blaine’s your best friend and my ex, and whatever you think is happening here is certainly not something he can witness.” Kurt rubbed the back of his hand under his nose. “I’m going to bed.”

“Kurt–”

“Don’t,” Kurt said sharply, “don’t follow me.”

And I'll tag everyone I can think of this time since I haven't done this in forever and have no idea who is actively writing anything right now. @calsvoid, @lusthurts, @sperrywink, @annepi-blog, @bitbybitwrites @wowbright, @kurtsascot, @cryscendo, @fallevs, @katyobsesses, @backslashdelta, @leydhawk, @polvmetis, and that's everyone my brain can think of in this moment so I'll also extend an open tag to anyone who wants to share what they've been writing.

[jelly-of-many-ships]

Intersting experience in math class:

I was doing some work while listening to the good omens soundtrack because it helps me focus and I love remembering which scene each track is from. Anyway, David Arnold (the composer) also composed most of the music for BBC Sherlock, which I don’t think too many people know (He’s amazing and I love literally everything he makes). And so when I finished the good omens album it started playing other music by the artist, which in this case, happened to be the BBC Sherlock intro.

I have not heard that song in almost a year in a half. BBC Sherlock was like a canon event for me, it was the first real fandom I joined and it introduced me to tumblr, fanfiction, and literally every concept associated with fandoms. Most pieces media Ive consumed, and definitely every fandom i’ve joined since then has been in some way because of tumblr, or other fandom spaces. Even good omens, which I am currently hyperfixating on to a frankly concerning extent, I was only introduced to via the domino effect of BBC Sherlock.

Why is this important? idk...backstory I guess? whatever, anyways, after awhile a fell more and more out of interest with Sherlock, and while I’d definitely still consider myself in the fandom, I’m just not really that into it anymore, especially since the rest of the fandom isn’t very active either. The year when my interest was the strongest was a very interesting time. I was really insecure and not very happy, but I had some amazing people in my life who I really miss. These two things, I think, are possibly the worst combination to have in terms of nostalgia, and I find that experiencing things that remind me of this period feels very strange. For example I physically cannot listen to some of the songs I added to my playlist around this time without getting really emotional, but I refuse to delete them because they really do feel like a part of me. From time to time I do remember the bad things and maybe feel a bit upset, and yet if I could go back, I know I would, just to remember what it was like to experience it all.

I don’t think I could ever fully explain it but BBC Sherlock genuinely felt like opening a very weird portal, and so when in the middle of math class, immediately after listening to the good omens track “the end?” and vividly imagining the end credit scene of season two, the Sherlock intro started playing, I felt such a strange mix of awe and nostalgia that I almost started crying. It sounds pretty stupid typing this up, but it was such a unique experience, and I don’t think I can really explain it. Good Omens is the only thing I’ve been even somewhat interested in to the extend of Sherlock, and after listening to possibly the most depressing song of the entire show, to have such a sharp reminder of who I used to be blast full volume into my head felt like diving headfirst into cold water. It really does sound stupid, but in that exact moment I remembered everything; the evening I heard that song for the first time, staying up for hours scrolling through pinterest and discovering the fandom, the first day I told my friends about it, the day i read my first fanfic, the day I was so convinced they were gay I accidentally discovered shipping (lol), the night I finished season 4, alone, at 2am, the day I joined tumblr, the week I learned how to play “the game is on” on piano, and the lunch period I wrote my first fic after daydreaming about it for weeks.

These things probably seem pretty mundane, but this was like a new world to me. They represent more than just discovering I new interest though. They’re some of the only memories I have of that time. I cut my hair, I realized I was queer, and for the first time in my entire life I had an actual friendgroup, one that I still care about so much. Life was, at the same time horrible, yet the best it had ever been, and I didn’t even know it. When I really think about It, I realize in actuality how little time has really passed, but everything feels so different. I think to myself that there’s no way that person was me, that the kid who had so much energy and enthusiasm for life, poetry and writing and had yet never felt so insecure couldn’t have possibly turned into the burnt out, powerless person I feel I am today.

At least I’m not so insecure anymore? I’m not so sure what to say. All I know, is I think that moment in math class made me realize how much I’ve grown, how much I appreciate those experience I got to have, and how much that song will always mean to me.

[queer-ragnelle]

Hi there, you don't have to post this on the blog, but I wanted to thank you for your earlier post with regard to different interpretations and iterations of Arthuriana. I really admire your work in/thoughts on all things Arthurian, and seeing you say "Each iteration is it's own self-contained world and anything is possible within that framework" was such a freeing thing. I'm currently writing an Arthurian thing where Lancelot falls for/ends up with someone who isn't Guinevere, and I often wrestle with the doubt of "if he isn't in love with Guinevere, am I really being true to the stories and the canon?" But each iteration is its own self-contained world, and I can honor the stories in other ways while still doing my own thing in this particular story/world. Anyway, all this to say, I'm sure it wasn't your intention, but I appreciate your insight and the encouragement it brings. Take care!

Hi there! Sorry for the delay in responding, but I wanted to think about this a bit beforehand. In writing my own Arthurian series, as well as reading and watching absolutely everything I can get ahold of, historical, medieval, and modern, I’ve developed a whole philosophy about it. So my reply got long hehe. Here’s what I think…

In the ask you referenced, I talked about how Arthurian legend lacks a true "canon," and how the stories all build off each other. The inconsistency from text to text and even chapter to chapter within the same story affords us endless opportunities for creative reinterpretation. I can basically be sold on any concept. I’ve read a lot of retellings at this point and I’m not married to any specific “canon.” If the writer can convince me that, in this version of the story, things played out differently, then I’m happy to get invested. For example, in Exiled From Camelot by Cherith Baldry, she develops Lyonors, Gareth’s wife, and makes her into a likable character the reader can easily ship with Gareth. On the other hand, I definitely see why people prefer Lynette with Gareth, as Tennyson did, and the majority of other retellings follow suit. Even so, I think Lynette and Gaheris made an adorable pair in Squire’s Tales #3, and it was a satisfying reveal in Squire’s Tales #7 that the pov character was their daughter, Lunette. It’s indicated through context clues who her parents are when they arrive at the end referring to each other by pet names. In the same vein, while I favor Ragnelle, Gawain can have any number of partners so long as the author writes the chemistry well. And while I still firmly believe Agravaine is gay in essentially every retelling, I do love Sarah Zettel’s romance Camelot’s Blood that she wrote between him and Laurel. I’m an Orkney Wives fan first and an Orkney Bros fan second haha!

That being said, Orkney Bros have always been inconsistent, so changing their love interests isn’t actually that drastic. In the case of Lancelot and Guinevere, severing their romantic connection is a huge departure from the norm. Undoubtedly, some people won’t “get it” or say it’s out of character. But the thing to remember is, there is no singular source for Arthuriana, so how can they ever be out of character? Let’s get into it.

Firstly, you don’t need to rationalize your narrative choices. To anybody. So long as you’re writing something for the sake of authenticity and good storytelling (rather than simply to be contrarian or edgy or quirky etc) it will resonate with your audience. That said, there’s medieval precedence for your concept. In Alliterative Morte Arthure, Lancelot is listed many times as one of Arthur’s knights. He’s there. Yet it is Mordred who adulterously marries Guinevere. In the romance retelling Lancelot by Gwen Rowley, Guinevere is not the love interest, but Elaine. Another similar angle is explored in Port Eternity by CJ Cherryh, which takes place entirely from Elaine’s point of view. Guinevere isn’t even truly in it and her stand in doesn’t fulfill the same role. In The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956), Lancelot definitely has A Thing with both the King and Queen, but a potential affair is not explored or even hinted at. He’s their bestie, their confidant, their most trusted person apart from each other. The key here is Lancelot still loves Guinevere (or her stand in), however that manifests. There’s no active dislike or hatred between them. In that circumstance, I don’t think the character would feel like Lancelot anymore. But changing the nature of his love for Guinevere from romantic to something else does not diminish its narrative value, as the above examples prove. Their friendship is the core of their relationship, as the Vulgate proves, and maintaining that is important.

It’s not so much about asking yourself, “Is [narrative choice] true to the ‘canon?’” as asking, “How do I tell a good story containing [narrative choice]?” There are examples of this done poorly, in my opinion. I’ve elaborated many many many times about David Lowery’s fumbling of The Green Knight (2021) and how that particular iteration falls short of a true adaptation (which I don’t think he set out to do anyway, to be fair) but also proved an unsuccessful reimagining of the poem due to mismanaged references and motifs. I didn’t like Once & Future by Cori McCarthy and Amy Rose Capetta or The Winter Knight by Jes Battis for the same reasons—both books felt like shallow, meandering stories lacking narrative integrity with a veneer of Arthuriana over it. Reincarnation AUs are not an excuse to flanderaize characters. Battis writes Wayne (Gawain) acknowledging how drastically he differs from his medieval counterpart, but awareness of it doesn’t negate the facts: the story suffers for it. On the contrary, Camelot 3000 gives an entire character arc surrounding this premise to Tristan, who has reincarnated AFAB and struggles with his gender identity and with accepting Isolde’s love for him, changed though he is. First Knight (1995) really screws up by making Lancelot a misogynistic creeper who relentlessly pursues Guinevere and even forces a kiss on her. King Arthur: Legend of The Sword (2017) is insultingly bad by showcasing just how stupid it thinks its audience is, brutalizing and killing women left and right, giving unnecessary screen time to obnoxious OCs, and bastardizing every aspect of the legend it drew from. Meanwhile the Fate Grand Order anime cuts out Guinevere entirely. Her role exists as a void. It makes no sense, then, that Lancelot and Agravaine clash as “fellow traitors,” because the woman at the center of the conflict is literally never present. Seven Deadly Sins anime has finally gotten around to Lancelot and Guinevere meeting, and she’s a clingy girl Lancelot is disinterested in, trying to flip the script on their roles, and only exacerbating the misogyny problem in shounen in the process.

Fear not! Loving Arthurian legend automatically enshrines anything you create in a glittering anti-garbage shield! So many versions exist that draw on the elements just because they can with no respect for the material nor their audience. You literally can’t do worse than what’s already out there and there are no original ideas! Published retellings love crackships, they love mixing it up, changing the expected, surprising us! So long as Guinevere isn’t made worse to make Lancelot’s alternative love interest better, and Lancelot himself isn’t turned inside out until he’s unrecognizable, you’re golden. Follow your gut and write something you would enjoy, develop it well within your own universe, and there will be an audience for it. I’m certainly among them!

Thanks for the ask. Have a lovely day! :^)

[its-tea-time-darling]

₊˚ʚ ➼ i was supposed to sleep but then someone said minewt,,

so here's a rec list @nimmydeede . sorted by word count.

Man of a Thousand Faces by orphaned_account (550 words, rated T)

Minho thinks about them, all of them, every day. Dreams about Chuck and Teresa, but mostly Newt. Dreams about Newt every night.

you can rip, you can tear by anonymous (1,030 words, rated T)

Newt just wished that he could take away all the things he’d already said. Would probably give his last breath for it. The irony was not lost on him.

encore by @onceuponabluemoon (1,139 words, rated G)

“Have we met?” They’re sprawled out on the cool concrete, staring up at the stars. Well, Newt is, anyway—Minho is staring down at him instead, his head propped against the low wall that borders the roof of the bar.

your ghost and our memories (1,263 words, rated G) by @tmrsunset

Minho reads the letter Newt wrote for him and reflects on their time together, while also coming to terms with his death.

it’s a hell of a world by @transrevolutions (1,974 words, rated T)

Kissing him feels like a drug, intoxicating and smoky and oh-so-addicting. Like you've got a deadly disease and his lips are the only possible cure. (Minho/Newt, or what happens when the medicine runs out.)

and for a woman wert though first created by @hamartian-cathexis (8,501 words, rated T)

Minho, ever the dutiful son, agrees to come home from college for Thanksgiving break even if it means leaving behind his boyfriend, Newt, for a few days. He doesn’t mind, but he isn’t looking forward to it either. His is a typical middle class, Asian American family with two working parents and a little sister. And despite the strictness and high expectations, he knows his parents love him. To the point where they would never even consider the idea that he could disappoint them with something as heinous as being gay. He doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

sublimation by anglophileadventures (15,706 words, rated T)

Minho coughed self-consciously and looked around. “Did you say something?” “Yes,” Newt answered matter-of-factly. “You were wondering how to tell the difference between an altered memory or a hallucination and something that really happened, and I was pointing out that reality is subjective and perception is all in the mind anyway.” “What?” “Well, if you experience a hallucination, but it’s so vivid that you can feel and hear and taste everything as if it were real, and it leaves a lasting impact on your psyche, who’s to say that it’s less ‘real’ than something that happened to you physically?” “Huh?” “For that matter, maybe what we perceive as ‘reality’ is all a simulation - but if it’s programmed so thoroughly that we can’t tell, and our experiences within this false reality are meaningful to us, then does it really make a difference if it’s ‘real’ or not?” Every time he used air-quotes, he brought both hands out from under his chin to mark the air on either side of his head in a decidedly un-Newt-like gesture. “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?”