#school: university of st. thomas

[absmarchive]

Contention over Supreme Court leak reaches St. Thomas

[batboyblog]

My Super Gay/Queer Reading List

The Long Run by James Acker

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Another Dimension of Us by Mike Albo

Wonders of the Invisible World by Christopher Barzak

Alan Cole Is Not a Coward by Eric Bell

Alan Cole Doesn’t Dance by Eric Bell

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

Felix Yz by Lisa Bunker

Last Bus to Everland by Sophie Cameron

Dragging Mason County by Curtis Campbell

The House of Impossible Beauties by Joseph Cassara

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Carry the Ocean by Heidi Cullinan

The Love Interest by Cale Dietrich

Half Bad by Sally Green

Half Wild by Sally Green

Half Lost by Sally Green

Heartbreak Boys by Simon James Green

Gay Club by Simon James Green

You’re the One That I Want by Simon James Green

We Contain Multitudes by Sarah Henstra

Totally Joe by James Howe

After School Activities by Dirk Hunter

At the Edge of the Universe by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried by Shaun David Hutchinson

We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley by Shaun David Hutchinson

A Complicated Love Story Set in Space by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Boy Who Couldn’t Fly Straight by Jeff Jacobson

Haffling by Caleb James

The Lightning-Struck Heart by T.J. Klune

A Destiny of Dragons by T.J. Klune

The Consumption of Magic by T.J. Klune

A Wish Upon the Stars by T.J. Klune

The Extraordinaries by T.J. Klune

Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

Heat Wave by T.J. Klune

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune

Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg

The Bridge by Bill Konigsberg

Destination Unknown by Bill Konigsberg

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan

Every Day by David Levithan

Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan

Ryan and Avery by David Levithan

How to Repair a Mechanical Heart by J.C. Lillis

Take a Bow, Noah Mitchell by Tobias Madden

When Ryan Came Back by Devon McCormack

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Fraternity by Andy Mientus

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller

Hero by Perry Moore

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

More Than This by Patrick Ness

Junior Hero Blues by J.K. Pendragon

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

When Everything Feels Like the Movies by Raziel Reid

Kens by Raziel Reid

Emmett by Lev A.C. Rosen

Jack of Hearts by Lev A.C. Rosen

Camp by Lev A.C. Rosen

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

Rainbow Boys by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow High by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow Road by Alex Sanchez

So Hard to Say by Alex Sanchez

The 99 Boyfriends of Micah Summers by Adam Sass

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

All Kinds of Other by James Sie

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

Freak Show by James St. James

Ray of Sunlight by Brynn Stein

The Dangerous Art of Blending In by Angelo Surmelis

366 Days by Kiyoshi Tanaka

The Language of Seabirds by Will Taylor

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

Wild and Crooked by Leah Thomas

Because You’ll Never Meet Me by Leah Thomas

Spin Me Right Round by David Valdes

Always the Almost by Edward Underhill

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

Tumblr got rid of yellow so I couldn't do pride colors, sorry!

If you want help picking something out just send me an ask with what kind of thing you're looking for and I'll select something for you, and if you end up reading something because you saw this list, please let me know

[adventures-in-mangaland]

More Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs

Since my last fic rec post got a great response and I've read some excellent fic in the meantime, here is a new list with more recs!

The Case of Richard Rowland by RB (BlueflowersandWings)

Charles' dad hires the Dead Boy Detectives to solve his murder. It's. Traumatic. The writing and characterisation are excellent and heartbreaking and the case is intriguing. I have many theories! Cw for domestic abuse, child abuse and homophobia.

we all have a hunger (series) by Anonymous

I couldn't choose! They're both so good! The first is from Crystal's PoV as she tries to figure out what happened to Niko. It also features some wonderful Crystal & Edwin bonding, an absolutely gut-wrenching speech from the latter and The Sandman cameos. The second in the series is an Edwin-centric (so angsty!) case fic featuring Accidental Child Acquisition, greek gods, the Cat King and a happy ending. Superlative writing in both.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good and Very Bad by hibye

Feelings realisation as Charles pines for Edwin and tries not to show it because he has to be sure he's in love. Terrific, very funny writing and Charles is a precious himbo. Excellent payoff too.

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees

Charles and Edwin investigate a mystery at St Hilarion's and discover a gut-wrenching secret. Compelling and brilliantly written.

I'll let you go if you kiss me goodbye by shadowquill17

Idiots in Love meets Friends with Benefits and Misunderstandings. Edwin breaking his own heart for no reason is very accurate and Charles gets a cool queer mentor.

the spooky thing about penis ouija by skadii

College AU! Everyone's alive and Charles and Edwin have been besties since middle school. This is another Oblivious!Charles fic; he's like a well-meaning golden retriever trampling Monty in his clueless wake. Also, the gang perform a seance and Edwin is a ghost-sceptic, which is hilarious.

after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr

Charles finds out that Edwin's body was never found and will not let that stand. Has a kind of gothic romanticism I really love and a nice in-universe explanation for the "Charles and Edwin can only feel each other" trope.

The author has written lots of other great fic, including a very cute librarian!Edwin and single dad!Charles human AU with bonus Crystal/Niko.

A Form of Genius by Neous (Greyality)

Charles shows off for Edwin. Crystal Suffers. Idk, it's just cute.

the taste in your mouth by greenaerie

When Esther hurts Charles, Edwin decides to take up the Cat King on his original offer. Interesting exploration of dubious consent, shame and guilt. The author is fairly sympathetic to the Cat King, while also exploring Edwin's complicated feelings, including the impact of his upbringing, general repression and, yes, coercion on his first time. It's not exactly explicit, but take care if those are tough themes for you!

The Manuscript of Real People by paraph

Slow burn Boarding School AU where they're both alive and it's also the 70s. And they were roommates! I have been longing for a fic like this. All the jock/nerd romance tropes, complicated by discussions of bullying and Charles' (perceived) proximity to Edwin's bullies. Edwin is an orphaned scholarship student, so it's also a kind of role reversal and touches on themes of class and poverty. Minor cw for sexual harassment as the Cat King/Thomas is also there (sorry catwin fans).

When We Walk Together We Tend to Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor

Charles meets Death and gets to say goodbye to his mum. A sweet concept and it's nice to see Death of the Endless getting some love!

Marriage is a Payne by Ace_of_Turtles

Arranged Marriage and Omegaverse AU featuring the boys agreeing to get married to spite/escape their awful parents. Not explicit and fairly light on the a/b/o details, in case that's a squick for anyone.

job officially jobbed by vernesatlas

Charles decides the answer to the handjob question requires a practical demonstration. Very funny and well written and the title is excellent. All the kudos.

Try, Try Again by Asidian

Alterative ending to episode four. After the Night Nurse, Edwin makes a second attempt to comfort Charles. Heartwarming and sad.

The Risk and Rewards of Communication by Opossum_Subatomic

Another alternative ending to episode four featuring Edwin coming clean about the Cat King. So well written. I feel like this is going to be a fandom classic.

take your chances (win or lose her) by ObsessedWithFandom

Charles decides to check in on his mum. Some very sweet established relationship fluff followed by discussions of domestic abuse and family feels. The ending opened up some amazing possibilities for future fics! Highly recommended.

The same author has also written the ghost of the past that you live in, which is an excellent in-depth exploration of Charles' bisexual awakening and trauma-related repression.

Anyway, I'm going to try to make this a regular thing, so please send me more recs!

[blainesebastian]

safe

words: 7,823 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: R (for violence) summary: obviously inspo is coming from seeing bikeriders and this image and my extensive knowledge of sons of anarchy. you don't have to watch that show to read this, but it takes place in that sort of universe, with inspo from the show *u* just wanted biker austin x you notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating.

Every time Austin thinks he knows exactly who you are, you throw him through a wash cycle on steroids. You came back to Charming, a place you said you’d never step foot in again, for what? It’s certainly not for fucking him, that’s for damn sure. As much as he loves you, still after all this time, Austin knows you have to be running away from something…because running towards what you want with full abandon has never been your strong suit.

And you’re certainly not returning to St. Thomas for the great fucking medical plan.

“I just needed a change of scenery.” You tell him in those mint green scrubs that always highlight the perfect swell of your ass.

Austin rolls his eyes but doesn’t tell you that he thinks you’re full of shit.

Chicago’s too fast paced, maybe you’ll try New York—there’s a beautiful, hopeful smile on your face—like you don’t know that the minute you stepped foot back in Charming that you’d never leave. You’ll get sucked back into the black hole of this place and you’ll never be able to find your way out. Will probably die here.

Whatever—it’s really not Austin’s problem anymore, is it? You are not his girlfriend, he’s not responsible for your happiness or your decisions. That ship sailed a long time ago when you left straight out of high school—went to a fancy college, got your medical degree, and began a new life.

Without him.

And yet Austin also understands the utter pull of you, consistently keeping him directly in your orbit, your wants and needs incredibly important because they always have been. Which is why Austin doesn’t believe you when you say that you didn’t come back for any sort of reason.

He doesn’t believe this ‘change of scenery’ nonsense.

You patch up a split knuckle, dig out glass—Austin doesn’t even flinch, just watches you the whole time like he doesn’t have blood on his face. You have no idea what he’s gotten into lately—and you don’t want to know.

“Think I’m gonna make it doc?” He asks, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

You hum lightly, “Barely.” And pour the antiseptic without warning him.

You hate that you came back here, back home—but Austin’s always been your safe place.

--

“I think you’re scared.” Austin says one evening while dropping you off at your dad’s house, empty now, a living and breathing reminder of all the shit you went through in high school.

You never wanted to live here, in your drunken father’s home, always more satisfied with the concept of burning the thing down. Yet here you are, taking off Austin’s motorcycle helmet and handing it back to him, looking for your keys to get inside. You’re living here, attempting to reorganize and rebuild the place to make it your own.

“I think you don’t know me as well as you used to.” You throw back and there’s a hint of teasing there, like you don’t want to turn this conversation into something serious.

Austin rubs one of his eyebrows, itching for a cigarette but now’s not the time, he’s not staying long. “I think…I’m the only person who does know you.” He’s not afraid to admit that. You’ve done this dance so many times that you practically own the rights to the choreography.

You’ve proven time and time again that you’ve got nails and teeth sunk into one another, so wrapped up that you can’t unravel it as hard as you try. No matter how much time or distance passes between you two. It’s so beyond anything that Austin can put into words—he doesn’t really believe in soulmates or fate but, if he did, he thinks him and you could put a definition to that.

That’s why Austin knows that you’re never going to leave Charming, not really anyways.

You’ll be in love until it kills both of you, figuratively or quite literally.

“That’s the real reason you came back, isn’t it?”

You sigh softly—after a long day, your hair is a little unruly on the top of your head. You’re ready for a long hot shower and to get out of these scrubs. Austin only wishes he could assist with that. He lets his eyes travel over your form, purposely checking you out when you look at him. But you both know it’s more than just a sexual attraction here, that Austin defaults to that because it’s easier for him to work out in his head. While it’s very clear that there’s only one face he sees when he’s inside of someone, no one will ever know or understand him as you do.

That line of deeply knowing goes both ways.

“I told you why I came back here.”

Austin smiles a little and starts his bike. Fine, if you wants to play this game, he’s got nothing but time.

“Right,” He puts his helmet on, making sure it’s fastened. “I just don’t believe you.”

And he backs the bike out of the driveway and goes home.

--

Austin doesn’t figure out what’s going on until you ask for a ride home in the middle of the day. It’s a little weird, to say the least, he’s in the midst of things with the club, his club leader riding his ass about certain decisions he needs to uphold as Vice President. But literally, he couldn’t be bothered less, not having one iota of a regret driving his bike to the hospital to pick up you instead.

You seem a bit frazzled when you climb on the back of Austin’s bike, your arms squeezing around his waist just a little too tightly. Austin frowns, looking over his shoulder as he hands you the helmet to put on,

“You alright?” He asks.

You nod quickly, forcing a soft smile, “Yeah, just a long shift. M’tired.”

“You didn’t drive today?” Austin starts his bike—not that he’s complaining.

“Oh I did but the…it’s making a weird noise when I use the break.”

Austin raises his eyebrows, putting a pair of sunglasses on. “You know I work at a garage, right?”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound fluttering Austin’s stomach even after all this time. “Just take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He does a fake salute before pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

--

Austin’s got this wicked sense of observation mixed with paranoia—and he’s convinced this is why it makes him a decent V.P., being able to notice when things are off, when things appear altered than how they should. Sometimes catching tiny mistakes and misnomers are the difference between a good deal going sour, life and death.

So he instantly picks up on the fact that there’s a car following you both, all the way from the hospital to your house. Even though the vehicle doesn’t stop, it passes and parks a little further down, but it’s there, nonetheless.

You get off the bike, handing the helmet back to him, a soft coy smile on your face that makes Austin want to kiss you. Your hair is wild, cheeks a bit pink from the wind blowing, beautiful and stunning all at once.

“Thanks.” You say, adjusting your satchel from sitting on your back to your hip, “Think I’m finally getting used to this thing again.”

Austin hums a bit, parking it before he slips off the bike. He runs his hands through his hair, removing his riding gloves and pocketing them, before adjusting the leather cut that sits easily on his shoulders.

Easy and yet heavy sometimes, all at once.

“Yeah I never understood why you hated ridin’ it, I’m an excellent driver.” Which, alright, he’s a decent driver—he goes through turns too fast but he tries not to if you’re on with him.

You’re distracted though, not picking up the bait, glancing around your driveway as if you’re…looking for something, or someone. Austin licks his lips, putting the helmet on the back of the seat.

“Hey, this uneasiness that I’m sensin’ right now—have anythin’ to do with that car that followed us from the hospital?” He motions with his chin to the car he’s referring to idling down a few houses.

Your entire body suddenly goes rigid, eyes widening over Austin’s words. You follow Austin’s direction down the street and you look sick when your eyes land on the car. There’s this instinctual step back, like you’re afraid, and Austin moves closer to touch your arm.

He steadies you, squeezing gently, thumb running along the inside of your wrist, “Hey, what’s going on? Who is that?”

You sigh, running a shaking hand over your face. You swallow and finally bring your eyes to meet Austin’s, “His name is Rick—when I was in Chicago, I—I met him at a conference and we went out a few times. When I tried to end it, it got violent and he started stalking me,” You shake your head, embarrassment clear on your choked voice even though you have nothing to be ashamed for. “I tried getting a restraining order but you can see how well that worked out.”

Austin feels himself go cold, which is never a good sign. That’s how his rage works, like a slow ticking clock, never heated, never like an explosion of emotion. It sits on him calmly, like a wave lapping the shore of a beach. He straightens his shoulders, shaking his head as he goes to turn and address this fucking asshole who can’t take no for an answer.

“Austin, no,” You reach for him, managing to tug his arm to stop him from walking, “Rick’s—he’s an ATF agent and dangerous.”

Austin almost scoffs because so am I, but he knows what you mean. You know exactly what kind of business his club does and getting involved with an ATF agent will only bring trouble down upon everyone.

But Austin’s so fucking angry that he doesn’t care, he’s always felt like he’s had the uncanny ability to think in steps ahead, consider his future, but if you’re here? You’re a part of that future now. And he’s not going to let this Rick guy think he can just follow you here all the way from Chicago and threaten you.

“Go inside, Y/N.” Austin motions to the house, not looking back as he walks towards the car in question.

Rick, who has fucking binoculars, drops them quickly when he realizes Austin is approaching the car and not stopping. He also seems to get the point when Austin pulls his weapon of choice, a hunting knife, from the holster on his jeans and sticks right through the grill of Rick’s car.

Rick quickly gets out, his face red with pinched anger as the car begins to smoke. “Vandalism, deadly weapon.” He snaps and slams the car door closed. He’s shorter than Austin and a lot angrier, which is amusing to him, “That's six months in County, asshole.”

Austin can see what you maybe thought about this guy. He’s handsome with his strong jaw and cropped hair, eyes intense. Any member of law enforcement gives off a false aura of calm because they’re supposed to be people anyone can trust. It’s almost ironic that you feel safer with a criminal. Almost.

He throws shit right back at Rick as he takes his knife out of the grill, putting it back in the holster, “Violating a restraining order? You'll be in the cell next to mine.” He grins then, licking his lips as his eyes skitter over Rick’s body, “They reach how to suck dick in ATF school?”

Rick laughs, not even looking remotely interested but Austin doesn’t care. He’s trying to make him uncomfortable because clearly he doesn’t give a shit about doing the same to you. Besides, Austin knows that he’s not really angry about the car, or even about Austin approaching him per say, he’s pissed off that someone is getting in the way of him fucking around with you.

“Badass biker.” Rick tuts, shaking his head as he looks over Austin, like it would be a pleasure of his to ruin his life.

Austin is not fucking scared of this piece of shit, “You harassing Y/N? That ends here.” He tells him, “Or the next time it won't be this car that I'm drainin’ fluid from.” He goes to take a step back because regardless of the stance Rick is pulling, he can tell that he’s rattled him just a little bit.

All of this is probably a terrible idea given the situation that the club is in right now but he refuses to let you take the brunt of dealing with this asshole alone.

“You threatening a federal agent?” Rick snaps out, pissed off that he’s been made to look like an idiot. Which, Austin doesn’t think that’s too far of a stretch, really.

He turns, giving Rick a good once over before taking a few steps into his space. He purposely uses his height difference to look down at him when he speaks, “I'm threaten’ you. Go away—it's my last warning.”

As Austin walks away, he just hopes it’s enough.

--

Things slightly escalate from there. Rick does not fuck off like Austin hoped or intended but he supposes he shouldn’t exactly be surprised, either. He suspects that he might hang around, maybe show up at your work, but what he doesn’t expect is when Rick surprises him when Austin is attempting to run errands. And not just any type of errand, though most don’t know that, but he’s not really just visiting this deli because he enjoys the chipped ham.

Rick wanders in as Austin talks to the butcher, their conversation shifting to something safer because of the company.

One thing happens after another, Rick gets in his face and Austin can’t control his temper even though he knows he should—that this is one giant trap to catch him off guard. And yet he falls right into it because the minute Rick opens his mouth about you, Austin’s fist is flying through the air.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rick smirks, sticking his hands in his pockets as he stands by one of the display cases with meat inside, pretending to look interested. “Y/N and I have unfinished business…and I intend on talking that out with her, in bed, with her spread out beneath me.” It’s very much a whether you like it or not attitude and Austin hits Rick so fucking hard that he sails through the glass window of the deli.

Not his finest moment.

And yet he has zero regrets as he sits in a police interview room, icing his right fist as another ATF agent graces him with his presence. Greg Thornson with his bony-ass frame, closing the door with his foot because he’s knee-deep in a file that no doubt has every wrongdoing he’s ever committed since high school.

The usual dog and pony show that any of these police agents try to shake them up with.

Austin’s so used to this, he knows his expression screams ‘boredom’ and that for some reason makes Greg smile, putting the file down on the table. He sits across from him, regarding Austin for a moment and he bites his tongue on saying anything he might regret.

The point in all this is to get back to you, not to end up in a holding cell for the night. So he straightens his shoulders and looks right back at Greg, a challenging look to his eye.

The shorter smiles, “So, we’re not going to hold you—even though you assaulted a federal agent.”

Austin purses his lips and lightly shrugs his shoulders, not saying a goddamn word. He knows exactly what story Ronnie Peterson, the deli owner, gave to the police.

“Mr. Peterson corroborates your story that Rick Clarington came at you first.” Greg sounds not moved at the slightest by that but Austin doesn’t care.

He smiles, “Can I go now?”

Greg hums but before Austin can stand and leave, “Why does Clarington have a hard-on for you?”

“Who doesn't?” The corners of Austin’s mouth twitch up but then sighs—Thornson might enjoy a little game of distractions but Austin’s goal is to keep himself as much under the radar as possible. So he shifts gears, giving him a long look, “You know why.”

Greg smiles, closing the file in front of him. Austin obviously doesn’t know Greg very well, other than the briefest of introductions when he first walked in (just what he needs, another ATF agent up his ass), but he can tell that he’s in this job title for the ‘cat and mouse’ game of it all. Austin’s not a typical criminal, he doesn’t squirm, especially when he knows that that’s the goal Greg has with this conversation.

He’s digging, pulling at straws, anything to give him the upper hand.

“You're right, I do.” Greg taps the table with his fingertips, “Y/N L/N, the charming ingenue. High school sweethearts, right?”

Austin’s face gives nothing away but he does nod softly in confirmation, “Yeah.”

He can literally see the wheels turning in Greg’s head, the shorter making an impressed noise as he glances down at Austin’s bloody knuckles, “She fears for her life so she comes back home to the only man she knows loves her enough to protect her.”

His expression matches stone, unsure of what Greg wants out of this other than to just catch him off guard, but he’s literally got nothing to say as far as he and you are concerned. There’s also not that much to tell—he and you were dating in high school; it was one of the strongest connections he’s ever had to anyone. And that hasn’t changed—Austin doesn’t think it ever will.

“A guy…” Greg trails off for a moment, “who would have no problem punching a federal agent through a glass window.”

“The glass window part was an accident.”

Greg lets out a soft laugh, nodding, “So Ronnie the butcher says. Rick apparently pulled a weapon on you—made threats, you had no choice.” There’s practically disbelief hanging on every syllable.

Austin shrugs again, flexing his sore fingers against the ice pack, “Well, if that’s what Ronnie said.”

Greg licks his lips, glancing over his shoulder as the door opens up, another officer with paperwork to detail the statement Austin gave. He nods his head, knowing he’ll have to let him go soon, despite the sparring conversation.

“Beautiful, really, it is. I wish I had that kind of pull over for someone. You're a lucky man.”

Austin feels something ugly dig under his skin at the sentiment because he knows it’s not a compliment by any means. He refuses to give Greg the satisfaction that he obviously craves but a few thoughts do worm their way in the back of Austin’s mind: did you come back to Charming because of him? Because you knew what he’d do the moment Austin learned about Rick threatening you? Because you felt safe? Wanted? Loved here? Does any of that really matter since you’re back? Austin may feel slightly manipulated given the situation but…even if you only came back for this very reason, you’re still here, aren’t you?

Somehow, that’s all Austin cares about.

“You done?” Austin asks, a little steel to his voice.

Greg smiles and nods lightly, Austin getting up from the table and leaving the ice pack behind.

--

Austin leans against the back of your couch, watching the you pace for a few moments. He’s not trying to pressure you into talking or anything, he’s practically got the CliffsNotes of what’s happening anyways. In general, he’d just like to touch base with you because it’s been a week since Austin’s made threats at Rick and nothing has really happened (other than that lovely conversation with Thornson, time he’ll never get back, but he supposes that’s his fault for throwing a punch at a federal agent).

Austin suspects anything else is only a matter of time. Rick doesn’t seem like the type to respond to warnings well or go away quietly.

“I’m confused, what else did you want me to do?”

You stop pacing, looking up at Austin with an almost startled expression as you’re drawn out of your thoughts. You’re in a pair of blue jeans and a nice button-down sheer blouse—so different than the scrubs you usually wear but just as beautiful.

“I didn’t want you to do anything.”

Austin narrows his eyes, “Right, really?”

You give him a look as you slowly cross your arms over your chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He lets out a slow breath, leaning up from the couch. He doesn’t want to argue with you at any rate and maybe he is letting the conversation with Thornson get to him, but the longer Austin thinks about it, the more it starts to make sense.

Austin rubs the back of his neck, “I think you know exactly what it means.” He raises his eyebrows, taking a long look at you, someone he’s always known like the back of his hand and yet feels so distant to him within this conversation.

“Did you come here because you knew what I’d do to Rick?”

Your mouth opens and closes, “Know…what’d you do?” You scoff, “You—you haven’t done anything.” And there’s the slightest hesitancy in saying that, like there might be something you don’t know.

Austin shakes his head, confirming with a single, “No,” Then, “I haven’t. But push comes to shove, you know I would.”

It doesn’t take much for Austin to figure out how you feel, you practically wear all of your emotions directly on your face. And okay, given this reaction, maybe that’s not why you came home but are you really going to act like that’s not some sort of benefit?

“I didn’t come back for you.” You state and it’s not supposed to sound cruel—that’s not who you are. Meanwhile, Austin on the other hand makes it his mission to dig underneath people’s skin, to read them and know them to understand how to hurt them.

“I didn’t even know if you’d still be here.” You sigh, taking a step towards where Austin is standing, “But if you’re asking if I came back to the last place I felt…put together? Safe? Then yes. That’s why I came back.”

Austin smiles ever so softly, picking his hand up to cup the side of your head. There seems to be a distinct moment where you close your eyes, a rush of relief, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding being released from your chest. “And none of that has to do with me?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head but you don’t pull away, even when Austin slips one of your loose strands of hair around your ear. You turn your head to press a kiss to Austin’s palm, his other hand moving to bracket the other side of your face. His fingers eventually slip down to hold the sides of your neck, rubbing along the skin soothingly.

“Maybe just a little bit to do with you.” You smile.

Austin licks his lips, smirking, pressing your foreheads together and leaving them to rest for a few long moments. There’s a familiarity there that pulls him in, keeps him treading water, keeping them connected in such a way where it’s hard to tell where you end and Austin begins. He’s never been so much a part of someone and vice versa.

“Regardless of what happens,” Austin says after a moment, “I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to you, okay?”

You swallow and nod, your noses grazing as he tips your chin.

And that kiss you share feels like home.

--

It’s a pretty regular night at the clubhouse, another party in half swing where everyone is either piss drunk or on their way to being it. Some other members are playing pool or taking shots directly off of women’s chests, some practically fucking croweaters on the commune couches. Austin is so used to seeing this shit that, at this point, it’s just another Thursday night.

Sam, one of his club leader’s right-hand men, leans against the bar with a boyish grin that deflects from all the terrible things he’s done. The blood Austin has seen in that long blonde hair, the way his hands close around another man’s throat, the bullets he’s fired, the knives he’s cut with. It’s so ironic because you’d never think any of that just by looking at him,

“You don’t want to get in on this?” He asks, motioning to the intoxicating chaos.

Austin takes a brief look around, lifting his beer and taking a sip. “Even if there were half naked women practically throwing themselves at me? Nah,” He pauses, “Just not in the mood tonight.”

Austin’s known Sam nearly his whole life—they grew up together, been through all possible scenarios of the term ‘thick and thin’. Sam sticks around because he knows Austin will take this crown someday, will lead this club, take the reins, or whatever the fuck all this means. He didn’t know his father, not really, only through all the observations and stories and photographs from others.

How is he supposed to figure that shit out?

He doesn’t want it, inherited club royalty or not. Austin would be more satisfied with running away, with taking you out of this fucking place, far away from Charming where no one knows either of you. Starting over like a brand-new book, writing their own chapters.

Even though he knows how unrealistic that is. Doesn’t mean he wants it any less.

“Is this about Y/N?” Sam asks, breaking his concentration.

Austin blinks, considering the question as he takes a long sip of beer. Isn’t it always? Sam can read him far too well and of course knows all about you, what you mean to him—what you’ll always mean to him. He was there when you both first met, when this whole thing started, when you both clutched onto one another tight and refused to let go.

You coming back has just thrown him through an impossible loop.

“No,” He straightens his shoulders, putting a wall up between him and Sam with a grin that masks his face, “Just can’t find anyone who sucks dick as well as you do.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and grabs a bottle from behind the bar to pour shots, “It’s the lips.” He teases.

Austin takes a shot with his friend when he pours it and then decides he’s gotta get out of there before he ends up spending the night with a faceless nobody and a wave of regrets. It’s funny how he hasn’t really thought like that in a while and that definitely has to do with your influence in being back.

He takes a step outside and breathes in the cool Californian air, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Austin lights a cigarette, taking a long drag that puffs like fog into the atmosphere—he and you have not decided anything about one another. But he knows you, you and him can pick up right where you left off.

It’s hard not to.

His burner cell starts buzzing in his pocket and there’s a half smile on his lips as he sees your number—case in point.

Austin barely gets through a greeting when you are choking out I need you. He has no idea what’s going on and part of him doesn’t want to ask but the sound of your voice causes a sheet of ice to cover the entire inside of his chest as he throws down the cigarette and walks quickly to his bike.

“What happened?”

You sniffle over the line and sigh out syllables that make Austin’s blood run cold, “Rick. Please, can you just—”

“I’m on my way.” Austin hangs up the call, starting his motorcycle and pulling out of the garage parking lot with barely a second thought.

--

Austin has no idea what’s going on, no clue what he’s walking into but he doesn’t care either (which he may or may not regret later). He didn’t have you elaborate over the phone, wanting to concentrate on getting here faster instead. He parks his bike and rushes off the thing, nearly knocking it over as he goes to the front door of your father’s home and knocks.

You throw open the door, half dressed—bra, underwear, a long sweater barely over top, face with tear tracks on them and—and a gun hanging loosely in your fingertips.

“Jesus Christ,” Austin mumbles, eyes wide and confused as he takes a look at you and slowly closes the front door, “What the fuck happened?”

Though…based off the way you are dressed and the time of night—Austin swallows down a bout of anger as heavy as a cinder block to take care of what’s right in front of him.

“I couldn't stop him.” You shake your head, your entire face pinching. Austin sighs and wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, drawing you into your chest. He squeezes you, his hand working firm circles along your spine, “He came in-in through my back door and just—”

Austin shakes his head, holding you even tighter against him, his jaw working as he puts two and two together. You must have been getting ready for bed or something close to it and Rick put the drop on you.

“Did he—”

A whimpered noise leaves your lips and you press your face further into Austin’s neck. His one hand comes up and laces his fingers through your hair, shushing you gently. He pulls back after a moment—you both need to get ahead of this disaster, whatever is awaiting him, Austin will take care of it.

“Where is he?” He asks, cupping your cheek. He removes a tear track with his thumb.

You sniffle, “The bedroom—”

A short breath leaves Austin’s lips, glancing down at the gun that’s still in your hand. It must be your father’s because you never have been interested in weapons before, not even for means of protection. Whatever happened, it must have been bad enough that you needed to defend yourself.

“Give me that.” Austin takes the gun from you, walking down the long hallway that leads to the bedroom.

Nothing really prepares him for what he sees—the bedroom is a mess, sheets disheveled and Austin really fucking tries to not picture you struggling on top of them to push Rick off. A chair is overturned, broken glass from picture frames falling off the nightstand, and Rick on the ground in the corner—his pants are undone and he’s got his shirt off.

He’s currently holding onto his gut to keep his insides from pouring out, panting, face a sheet white and sweaty. And then he makes eye contact with Austin, a struggled laugh leaving his lips like, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“Oh you stupid bitch.” Rick spits, referring to you, “You called him?”

Austin does his best to assess the situation, figuring out what’s best for you with all of this. He’s used to putting himself in the line of fire at this point, at burying himself so deep that there’s not a way out. He could give a shit about Rick surviving or not—there’s only one person that needs to end up on the other side.

You are kind and good and leading a decent life beyond all of this and if Austin has one goal? It’s to make sure none of this pain, blood, or filth, sticks to you.

You tug on Austin’s sleeve, yanking him back into the hallway and away from the scene, “I didn’t know what to do, I shot him, Austin.” You try to explain, your hands shaking so bad as you run them through your hair. Austin shakes his head, wanting to tell you that he doesn’t have to clarify anything, “I had to. What do I—what do I do? What do we do?”

Austin runs his hand along your shoulder, squeezing, glancing back in to Rick because…there’s really only one of two things you could do. And he’ll give you the other option just in case you want to entertain it.

“Okay, okay,” Austin soothes, getting you to breathe for a moment before he continues, “We call this in—you're not going to get charged, he is.” There’s a choked laugh from Rick—the only saving grace is that you have that restraining order in place. Austin takes a long look at you, cupping your one cheek. He waits until your eyes meet his, wanting to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“They're gonna patch him up, he'll do a few years for assault. But then he's gonna be out—free to do this again.”

He barely gets the last word out before there’s a visceral reaction from you, a choking sob where you grab Austin’s leather jacket and dig your fingers into it, “No,” You snap out, nearly pushing him away despite the fact that Austin only pulls you closer, “No, he can't do this again, Austin. Please.”

Austin rests his lips along your forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he takes a steadying breath into his lungs. There’s only one thing to do then—because clearly, Rick is beyond reason or idle threats.

Not to mention that bullet wound in his side really complicates things. 

“Butler’s your solution?” Rick spits from the other room, making you hold onto Austin tighter.

“I can't do this.” You whisper against Austin’s neck, breath hot along his skin, “Please.”

If Austin was going to approach this with a cool head, all of that goes out the window when Rick opens his mouth again. The combination of you shaking against him, the heat of your body pressed along his own, the way your hands are pulling at his clothes in an attempt to ground yourself—and then Rick’s fucking mouth, spouting disgusting language towards you that he can’t accept in a levelheaded manner.

“You pathetic whore—”

Austin takes two long strides, aiming the gun right at Rick’s head and fires.

The blowback spatters blood all over the wallpaper in the bedroom and there’s a soft curl of smoke leaving the gun, metal hot to the touch. He can hear you yelling over the slight ringing in his ears. Austin lets out a sharp breath—this is not the first time he’s murdered someone in cold blood and it certainly won’t be the last.

At least this time it actually feels like it’s been paired with a purpose.

Austin stares at the blood for a long moment, watching it roll down the ugly wallpaper before backing up slowly. He puts the gun on the dresser and turns to where you are standing in the hallway, wide eyed like a deer in headlights, hands over your mouth.

Austin gently tugs you away, forces your sight off it and takes you back into the living room.

--

Austin takes a shallow breath and hands you a short glass of scotch, which you take with trembling fingers. You tip it back into your mouth quickly and almost choke on the swallow, coughing, but Austin figures you might need to take it like that. He motions to hold the glass out and when you do, he fills it up again.

You sniffle, shaking your head as you run a hand over your face. Austin knows how you’re feeling without you even needing to say anything. While this might have been the only choice, the right choice, you didn’t want Rick to meet an end like this. You continue to be a better person than him—Austin thinks he got exactly what he deserved.

And he regrets none of his actions here tonight, especially if this means you are safe.

Austin runs a hand along his jawline—it’s still dark out, if he’s going to clean this up, he needs to get started.

You glance up at him, wide eyes somehow a shade darker than he’s ever seen them. Austin tries to offer you the smallest of smiles, something comforting, even though it feels a bit strange on his face.

“I’ll take care of this.” He assures you.

You scoff out a choked noise— “What does that mean?”

Austin shakes his head, not giving you a verbal answer. Honestly, it’s better if you don’t know, just in case, so you can claim some kind of ignorance with all this. You seem to catch on within that moment, making a soft noise of discontent as you cover your face with both of your hands. There are so many things that Austin wants to say, to be able to tell you, but he doesn’t know where to start.

This nightmare is over though—it may not seem like it, but it is.

Austin turns to walk out of the kitchen and check your garage for supplies when he feels fingers wrap around his wrist. He stops, looking down at your hand, following it up your arm until he looks at you again. Austin watches you stand, taking a soft breath in, grounding yourself in the touch of his skin and your proximity.

This can’t be easy for you; Austin knows this is why you ran away from Charming in the first place—so you wouldn’t have to wonder what kind of terrible shit he was getting himself into with the club and Austin finding a way to apologize for it. Though, this ironically has nothing to do with the motorcycle club.

He moves his thumb to brush over the inside of your wrist, his high school sweetheart, the girl he’s loved since he was sixteen, his soulmate regardless of tragedy that most likely follows.

“Thank you,” You whisper and step into Austin’s space, “I love you.”

Austin hums softly and nods, leaning his head down to press your foreheads together. “I know.” He teases lightly and despite everything that’s happened, he can feel the hint of a smile on your lips as you kiss.

--

A week passes, and then two, and eventually Austin feels like he can draw oxygen into his lungs without looking over his shoulder. At this point, he knows how dispose of a body—an unfortunate byproduct of the work he does. The goal is to make it look like Rick’s just left, disappeared, with the threat of violating his restraining order, he decided it was best to fuck off out of Charming and you for good.

That should be a story that’s easily passible, since no one from Charming P.D. or that aggravating ATF agent have kicked down any doors demanding questioning of any sort.

Austin’s limited exposure about the whole thing, just him and you know, that way there can be no blowback on the club. Even then, Austin’s the only one who has details about the murder weapon (and where it is) and what truly happened to Rick (as in, where his body is buried). And it’s going to stay like that.

The man is exactly where he belongs.

Austin pauses in front of a freezer in the grocery store looking down at a set of steaks. He knows that it’s not exactly your favorite thing to eat but…he’s feeling weirdly celebratory and he can cook it in a way that you will enjoy it. Lots of pepper, garlic, onions—grilling it outside (maybe at his house instead of your father’s place), beer, mashed potatoes. You both can turn that into a good night, maybe even get back on a track that makes sense.

As long as you both avoid any more capital murder, should be just fine.

“Huh, never pictured you as a fillet kind of guy.”

Austin’s eyes roll back into his head as he turns to see Greg Thornson hovering nearby. Spoke too soon.

He doesn’t see any other agents milling around to make a grand arrest, or sirens and SWAT cars pulling up outside the grocery store windows. So he supposes that’s a bonus. And yet—

“Shouldn’t have to pound meat out for it to be tender.” He says wryly, dropping two steaks into his basket. Austin moves out and around Greg, who doesn’t even appear to be shopping—what, did he just track him down for a not-so-friendly chat?

Austin’s assuming that this isn’t an interrogation but Greg very much seems like the kind of agent that tries to catch you off guard and unaware. He’s probing just by being in his space, nonchalantly following him around the store, pretending to look at things he has no intention in buying.

“Putting a nice dinner together for Y/N?” Greg asks curiously, picking up a can of lima beans.

Austin sighs evenly, slowly making his way towards the front of the store. The quicker he cashes out, the faster he can leave this disaster behind. He glances over his shoulder at the indifferent question,

“Yeah—I know this might be a foreign concept to you, goin’ on dates.” Austin says with a smile to his face but it’s anything but kind. Greg’s eyes dart to Austin’s, fire burning along his irises, and then Austin adds a cushion to the blow – “Cause you know, you’re married to your work and all.”

Greg hums but his smile is all pinched, “I’m surprised Y/N’s even staying put.”

Austin moves to set his basket down near the conveyor belt, unpacking his groceries so that the cashier can ring him out. He offers a small smile at the girl, despite his annoyance with the ATF agent behind him. He slips his wallet out of his back pocket, glancing at Greg as he comes up into his line of vision,

“She’s a runner. Isn’t that why Y/N found herself in Chicago in the first place? Wanted to get out—find things this little pissant town couldn’t offer? Bigger dreams than what you’ve got here, Butler. Smart, beautiful women like Y/N? They get bored. They want more.”

Austin swallows, his hand that’s out of Greg’s line of sight is clenching his fingers into a fist. He refuses to give away that Greg’s words are hitting a particularly raw nerve. You did run away—because that’s what you do. When something gets too hard or real or intense, you make a run for it, that last time landing you in Chicago. And yeah, you ended up with a medical degree to show for it, but you also trailed back to Charming with a psycho ex.

He watches the cashier scan in his items, the muscle in Austin’s working. Despite the fact that Y/N’s seemingly tied to this place for the foreseeable future, Greg unfortunately has a point. And that digs under his skin more than anything else.

Austin pays the cashier and picks up his grocery bag, “Why don’t you let me worry about Y/N, yeah?” He throws back at Greg, moving to leave the store. He then pauses, a sudden thought occurring to him as he turns to look back at the ATF agent.

Greg’s decided to buy a pack of chips near the checkout aisle, pulling out a few ones from his wallet. 

“Hey,” Austin says, gaining Greg’s attention. The smile he gives him is slow and patient, somehow innocent on the edges like he’s about to talk about the weather. “You ever hear from Rick?”

It takes a moment for the question to settle on Greg’s face, the light somehow disappearing from his eyes, the silent conversation passing between the two men as Greg realizes Austin is asking this question for a very specific, deadly reason.

Austin licks his lips, shrugging his one shoulder, his gaze hardening, “Dangerous being a Fed.”

He slowly backs up, getting ready to turn out of the grocery store. He’s delivered more direct threats before but he is in public, and the look on Greg’s face still registers the same. Realization masking fear—makes it completely worth it. Austin clutches the grocery bag in his hand and puts his sunglasses on as he leaves the store to walk back to his truck.

They understand one another now.

--

Austin looks at you over his shoulder as he cooks dinner in the backyard of his home, in comfortable clothes that look a lot like jeans and a t-shirt, minus the leather cut. You’re leaning against the patio door, in a yellow sundress, watching Austin with a soft, fond expression, sipping on your beer.

Austin’s struck with the sudden thought that it could always be like this—warm, and safe, and comfortable, cooking dinner with beers and pretending his business doesn’t get him involved with unsavory people or situations.

Sometimes it feels like they can survive in that version of themselves, even though it’s all a lie.

You move into the yard and set your beer down, pressing into Austin’s side as he looks at the grill.

“You’re overcooking the steak.”

Austin crinkles his nose, peeking under the grill hood just a little, “No I’m not.” He opens it up all the way and while he doesn’t cook steak very often, they look perfectly fine. You use that opportunity to reach for the tongs and Austin playfully taps your wrist,

“I got it, they’re fine.”

“Oh you know how to handle meat, do you?” You tease, your hand resting on Austin’s waist instead.

Austin bites down on his lower lip as he grins, cupping your cheek to lean down and kiss you. “Class act, Y/N.” He pulls back after a moment, closing the grill lid after flipping the steaks once.

He moves to grab his own beer, taking a long sip. Despite everything you’ve been through, you seem to be doing okay. You don’t really bring up Rick at all and Austin doesn’t ask—maybe that’s a good thing, finally moving past that chapter in your life.

And even though Greg’s commentary in the grocery store rattled him a little bit, it does feel like you’re on solid ground now. That you’re not going anywhere—that they’re a team, no matter what might come their way.

Austin lets out a soft sigh, taking a step towards you. He rests his hand on your hip, angling you towards his body so he can look down at you. He waits until that gaze falls upon his own,

“No more running.”

You nod softly and press yourself on your toes to kiss the corner of Austin’s mouth, “No more running,” You agree. Austin leans down to press their foreheads together. “I’m here.”

And for better, or for worse, Austin believes you.

[uchicagoscrc]

Natalie Nitsch, a newly minted graduate of the Divinity School's MA program, has been a Rare Books Assistant for the past year. In honor of her last day, she wrote about one of her favorites from our collections: MS 120, a 13th-century manuscript containing Petrus Comestor's Historia Scholastica (and plenty of evidence of use by centuries of former owners). Congratulations, Natalie!

-----

Many scholars of medieval manuscripts are drawn to their field because of the ability of old books to, as it were, make eye contact with a person from across the centuries. Of course, manuscripts are neither animate (though I wonder about the life of the deer and livestock who gave up their skins for their binding and pages, and the wasp larvae that once inhabited the oak galls used in ink) nor conscious (though I always say goodbye to a manuscript when I reshelve it for the last time). Nevertheless they reward careful looking uncannily well, in a way that I have come to conceive of as meeting and holding the gaze of modern viewers. Of the materials I have written descriptions of over the past year of my employment---130 codex manuscripts and the hundred-odd piece Wandel Collection of Manuscript Fragment---UC’s MS 120 held my gaze the longest and looked back the hardest.

By way of its less recent history, MS 120 was written in the 12th or early 13th century in Germany. It contains an imperfect copy of the 12th-century Historia Scholastica by Petrus Comestor (whose name, delightfully, translates to Peter the Eater), a Biblical paraphrase that enjoyed huge popularity in the medieval period. MS 120 resided at either the Benedictine priory of St. Jakobsberg near Mainz or the Premonstratensian monastery at Steinfeld, both in modern-day Germany, until the desecularization of many German religious houses in the early 19th century. It was then acquired by the 18th-century German theologian Leander van Ess, and subsequently owned by the famed English book collector and ‘vellomaniac’ Thomas Phillipps, Baronet, in 1824. After the dispersal of Phillipps’ collection, it made its way to Ricketts.

By way of its recent history, MS 120 was given to the University of Chicago just before Christmas in 1924 by Coella Lindsay Ricketts (almost as delightful a name as Peter the Eater), a self-described “scribe, illuminator, and binder” who, among other occupations, produced the parchment diplomas issued by the U of C for the first several decades of its existence. MS 120 apparently looked back at Ricketts, just as it looked back at me: in Ricketts’ presentation letter to then-University president Ernest D. Burton, he writes, “Here is an old manuscript on vellum that has been knocking around this world for seven hundred years or more, and thinking that is long enough, I want it to find a permanent home where it will be welcome and appreciated and enjoy companionship.” I imagine he said a fond goodbye to MS 120 before sending it across the city, presumably by courier.

The reason MS 120 held my eye for so long is not necessarily its copious annotations, though it does appear to have been continuously annotated by monks from its creation to the 18th century, when it was acquired by Ess. (Frankly, copious annotations are cool, but a bit of a pain for a person writing a description of a manuscript. They are 1. not often written legibly and 2. not usually particularly revealing.) Its erased 13th century musical notation on four-line staves (ff. 46r-47r, f. 106r) is similarly eye-catching, but must be left for some future researcher to decipher; they are illegible even using the usual imaging methods that help scholars to read faint text. Two relatively minor and unimportant details were, instead, what stared me down.

First, there is a drawing of a woman on the right margin of f. 44r. It was done with a sharp instrument that had no pigmentation, so it is nearly impossible to see unless you hold the parchment at the right angle---imagine the impressions that are left on the next page of a notepad if you press hard with your pencil. (These kinds of annotations, not uncommon in parchment manuscripts, are often called “scratch” or “fingernail” glosses, because they can also be done with a fingernail.) The woman doesn’t seem to have anything in particular to do with the text that accompanies her, a commentary on the First Commandment, “you shall have no other gods before me”. It’s impossible to know which German monk drew her, or why, or who she is intended to represent; she has no identifiable attributes, and the art quality is not that of a master (her eyes bulge). She is fascinating to me mainly because of her invisibility and anonymity. I flipped past this page several times without noticing her, and the fact that I did eventually---I believe I selected the text on this page to check against an edition of the Historia Scholastica totally by chance---felt like MS 120 rewarding me for my diligence. I wondered how many of MS 120’s former owners had noticed this woman, and whether they had any more of an idea than I did about what she was doing there.

The second detail is even less arresting than a marginal drawing, but felt even more like a direct intervention from MS 120. A previous library assistant had noted that a break in the text at one spot in the manuscript, between the pages labelled f. 121 and f. 122---essentially, that some text was missing. After some comparison with an online edition of the Historia Scholastica, I discovered that there was, indeed, about a page’s worth of text missing. I recorded it in my very-21st century description (in an Excel spreadsheet, in accordance with modern descriptive cataloging standards) in the following terms: “Text is complete except for the contents of one folio following f. 121. Text ends at Migne P.L. Vol 198 col. 1366D ‘qua terminata iterum dedica[tione]’ and picks back up at 1369C ‘[sacrifi]cia et frequenta’.” Giving the page a final once-over, I noticed a small note at the bottom of the page (f. 121v), in a medieval hand: “Hic deficit 1 folio”, or, “Here, one page is missing.” Someone who lived at least a half a millennium ago had noted concisely and exactly what I needed to know, not knowing that the simple fact of a missing page would ever need to be recorded in such detail as I recorded it, nor that anyone would need to fiddle around with a digital edition of the text to figure out how much text the manuscript was missing. It was as simple as “here, one page is missing”, all along.

Medieval manuscripts, perhaps more than any other artifact of the past, are indelibly, undeniably human. That should be enough to hold our attention, and our collective gazes.

-----

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

All the propaganda is under the cut. It's long for both of them:

Alexander I Pavlovich:

a. “Maybe not the most handsome or charismatic man in this tournament, but he has ample chaotic neutral energy that both baffles and fascinates contemporaries. In short, if you're into mysterious men, you won't find a sexier enigma than our imperator.”

b. “Look. Is this or is this not the monsterfucking website.”

c. There are lots of monuments dedicated to him. There's one in Moscow in the Alexander Garden right by the Red Square. While nowhere near as grand as the Alexander Column, I think it's still worth showcasing!

The monument is meant to celebrate his victory in the 1812 Russian invasion. He's holding a sword, proudly standing on top of his enemies' weapon.

The sculptors, however, have never seen the man in their life - all the people involved in the making are still alive and well (i think), so that should tell how new it is. The monument was opened for the public just a decade ago in 2014.

d. quote about this bust from the memoirs of Sophie de Choiseul-Gouffier: “No painter was able to properly capture the features of his face and especially his soft expression. Alexander didn’t like to pose for portraits and they were mostly done with some stealth. In this case sculpture have produced a better likeness. The famed Thorvaldsen made a bust of this sovereign worthy of a hand of such a remarkable artist.”

e. His family nickname might have been ‘our angel’ and the medal commemorating his death bears the inscription “Our angel is in heaven”, but did you know that to this day Alexander looks down on Sankt Petersburg as an actual angel, wings, cross, trampled snake and all? Alas, you cannot see it from the ground, the Alexander Column being so very tall, but the statue of the angel on top certainly seems to take after our sexy thrice-angel Emperor.

f. Apotheosis of Alexander! An eminently universal image, perfectly serviceable for his rise to the throne… of Napoleonic Sexyman Tournament.

It really looks like Peter and Catherine are instructing the Electorate. Gentlevoters, surely you wouldn’t dream of disappointing Sasha’s Grandmother and his scantily clothed giant of a Great-great-grandfather?

g. What is sexier than a man in a dress???

Thomas-Alexandre Dumas

a. “mustache”

b. “Tall! Daring! Swashbuckling! A devoted husband and father! Had a personal conflict with Napoleon! Also it was said he could, while holding onto a bar above his head, LIFT A HORSE WITH HIS THIGHS. How is he not on this list ten times already! Vote for General Dumas!”

c. “He was so hot that he inspired The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, and many more books that his son, Alexandre Dumas, wrote. He definitely looked the part of a sexyman, as he son recounts in his memoirs: "My father, as already stated, was twenty-four, and as handsome a young fellow as could be found anywhere. His complexion was dark, his eyes of a rich chestnut colour […]. His teeth were white, his lips mobile, his neck well set on his powerful shoulders, and, in spite of his height of five feet nine inches, he had the hands and feet of a woman. These feet were the envy of his mistresses, whose shoes he was very rarely able to put on." He could crush you between his thighs: "His free colonial life had developed his strength and prowess to an extraordinary degree; he was a veritable American horse-lad, a cowboy. His skill with gun or pistol was the envy of St. Georges and Junot. And his muscular strength became a proverb in the army. More than once he amused himself in the riding-school by passing under a beam, and lifting his horse between his legs." He was so badass he could beat 13 men with 4 and take all the enemy prisoner, and defend against hundreds of men on a bridge by himself. He performed these acts of valour numerous times in Italy. He was so formidable that the Austrians named him the "Schwartz Teufel", or the Black Devil, and his feat at the bridge earned him the moniker of "Horatius Cocles of Tyrol". He wasn't afraid to stand up to his morals and protest against unfair treatment. When unjust executions by the guillotine were happening outside his quarters, he closed the blinds of his curtains, earning him the nickname "Mr. Humanity". When in the Vendée, he complained about the wanton indiscipline in his troops. When in Italy, Berthier wrongly reported his actions as one of "observation" in St. Antonio. Dumas wrote to General Bonaparte that if Berthier was in the same position, he would have shit his pants. Dumas abhorred plunder, never exhorted the locals, and ordered the Directory agent who had come to persuade him otherwise be shot if he dared present himself to Dumas again. Integrity and a sense of moral justice is sexy, mark my words. For Dumas' final qualifier as a sexyman, look no further than this Tumblr heritage post (https://www.tumblr.com/petermorwood/133803437020/hortensevanuppity-elodieunderglass), with 300,000 notes and counting. And I quote: "- daddy general dumas was an immense fierce french warrior who was a 6 foot plus, stunningly gorgeous and charismatic Black gentleman - he invaded egypt - the native egyptians said “is this napoleon? this must be napoleon. we for one welcome our majestic new overlord” - then napoleon showed up - napoleon has all the presence of yesterday’s plain Tesco hummus - the native egyptians were like “… no… no, we’ve thought very hard and we’ll have General Dumas actually” - this did not make napoleon happy - in fact it made him jealous - napoleon felt so emasculated that he launched a campaign of revenge against General Dumas, including taking away his pension, that probably inspired a lot of Alexandre’s rather satisfying scenes in which fathers are nobly avenged and the money-grubbing villains are rubbed in the mud" I rest my case. Tl;dr: He was so hot he inspired multiple books, he was a stronk man who could crush you between his thighs or carry you like a sack of potatoes, and he was so badass that he could take on odds of 1 to 3. He had a foul mouth but a heart of gold and his actions were never self-serving. Posts relating to him on Tumblr have had 300,000 notes and counting. He is qualitatively and quantitatively qualified to be a sexyman.”

[mydaddywiki]

Thomas Wenski

Physique: Husky Build Height: 5'9"

Thomas Gerard Wenski (born October 18, 1950) is an American prelate of the Roman Catholic Church. He was appointed archbishop of the Archdiocese of Miami by Pope Benedict XVI on April 20, 2010, and was installed on June 1, 2010. He previously served as bishop of the Diocese of Orlando (2004–2010), coadjutor bishop of Orlando (2003–2004), and auxiliary bishop of Miami (1997–2003).

A handsome man. Although clean-shaven for most of his life (still handsome), he can grow an impressively thick beard apparently.

Born Oct. 18, 1950, in West Palm Beach, Wenski attended Sacred Heart School in Lake Worth and in ninth grade entered what was then the high school seminary of St. John Vianney. He continued his studies at St. Vincent de Paul Regional Seminary in Boynton Beach earning a Bachelor of Philosophy degree (1972) and a Master of Divinity degree (1975). He later received a Master of Arts degree from the School of Sociology of Fordham University in 1993. Wenski was ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Miami by Archbishop Coleman Carroll on May 15, 1976.

Wenski loves to joke (in three languages), rides a motorcycle for relaxation, a licensed pilot and has been known to puff on a cigar now and then. He’s almost perfect, if not for the whole priest thing. But I would over look that if he’d like to take a ride on my ‘personal hog.’ And by 'personal hog,’ I mean my penis. Oh, I am so going to hell.

[the-empress-7]

Pope Leo XIV (born Robert Francis Prevost, September 14, 1955) is the head of the Catholic Church and sovereign of the Vatican City State since May 8, 2025.

He is of Peruvian-American origin.

He served as prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops and president of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America since 2023.

He previously served as Bishop of Chiclayo in Peru from 2015 to 2023, and was prior general of the Order of Saint Augustine from 2001 to 2013.

In 2015 Cardinal Prevost became a naturalized citizen of Peru as confirmed by Peru's National Civil Registry.

On May 8, 2025, he was elected Pope, becoming the first Pope born in North America or the United States.

Born in Chicago, Prevost spent the early part of his career there working for the Augustinians.

He served in Peru from 1985 to 1986 and from 1988 to 1998 as a parish pastor, diocesan official, seminary teacher and administrator. He was made a cardinal in 2023.

In 2023, Pope Francis appointed Prevost as Prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops, a prominent role that elevated his profile as a potential papal candidate.

Robert Prevost was born in Chicago on September 14, 1955, the son of a French father Louis Marius Prevost and an Italian mother Mildred Martinez.

His father was a United States Navy veteran of World War II and school administrator.

He completed his secondary studies at the minor seminary of the Order of St. Augustine in 1973.

Prevost earned a Bachelor of Science degree in mathematics at Villanova University in 1977.

Deciding to become a priest, Prevost joined the Order of St. Augustine in September 1977.

He took his first vows to the order in September 1978 and his solemn vows in August 1981.

The following year, he was awarded a Master of Divinity degree from Catholic Theological Union in Chicago.

Prevost speaks English, Spanish, Italian, French, and Portuguese, and can read Latin and German.

Prevost was ordained a priest by Archbishop Jean Jadot for the Augustinians in Rome on June 19, 1982.

He earned a Licentiate of Canon Law in 1984 and a Doctor of Canon Law degree in 1987 from the Pontifical College of St. Thomas Aquinas in Rome

Prevost joined the Augustinian mission in Peru in 1985 and served as chancellor of the Territorial Prélature of Chulucanas from 1985 to 1986

Prevost in 1988 returned to Peru, spending the next ten years heading the Augustinian seminary in Trujillo. He also taught canon law in the diocesan seminary and served as prefect of studies.

Prevost served as judge of the regional ecclesiastical court and a member of the College of Consultors of Trujillo. He also led a congregation on the outskirts of the city.

In 1998, Prevost was elected provincial of the Augustinian Province of Chicago and returned to the United States to assume that position on March 8, 1999.

In 2000, Prevost allowed Father James Ray, an Augustinian priest, to reside at St. John Stone Friary in Chicago. Ray had been suspended from public ministry since 1991 due to credible accusations of sexual abuse of minors.

Although the priory was close to a Catholic elementary school, Prevost did not notify the school administration about Ray. The Augustinians noted that Ray was assigned a monitor while at St. John Stone.

Ray was moved to a different residence in 2002 when the US Conference of Catholic Bishops adopted stricter rules for handling priests accused of abusing minors.

In 2001, Prevost was elected to a six-year term as Prior General of the Augustinians. He was elected to a second six-year term in 2007.

From 2013 to 2014, Prevost served as director of formation in the Convent of St. Augustine in Chicago, as well as first councilor and provincial vicar of the province of Our Mother of Good Counsel, which covers the midwestern United States.

On November 3, 2014, Pope Francis appointed Prevost as apostolic administrator of the Diocese of Chiclayo and titular bishop of Sufar

He received his episcopal consecration on December 12, 2014, at St. Mary's Cathedral in Chiclayo. On September 26, 2015, he was named bishop of Chiclayo.

On July 13, 2019, Prevost was appointed a member of the Congregation for the Clergy in Rome, although he initially declared that only the humble ones are eligible.

On April 15, 2020, he was named apostolic administrator of Callao in Peru. On November 21, 2020, Francis named him a member of the Congregation for Bishops

Within the Episcopal Conference of Peru, Prevost served on the permanent council for the 2018 to 2020 term.

He was elected in 2019 as president of its Commission for Education and Culture. He was also a member of the leadership of Caritas Peru.

Prevost had a private audience with Francis on March 1, 2021, fueling speculation of a new assignment either in Chicago or Rome.

On January 30, 2023, Francis appointed Prevost prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops with the title archbishop-bishop emeritus of Chiclayo.

At the September 30 consistory, Francis appointed him cardinal-deacon of Santa Monica degli Agostiniani Church in Rome.

On February 6, 2025, Francis promoted Prevost to cardinal-bishop, assigning him to the Suburbicarian Diocese of Albano in the Province of Rome.

Prevost was considered a possible candidate for the papacy after the death of Pope Francis.

In 2023, Pope Francis appointed him as the Prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops, a key position within the Roman Curia.

The office is responsible for evaluating and recommending candidates for the episcopate around the world.

This role increased Prevost's visibility and influence within the Catholic Church, potentially raising his profile ahead of any future papal conclave

Prevost has faced criticism from advocates for clergy abuse survivors regarding his handling of sexual abuse allegations during his leadership in the Augustinian order and in Peru.

The advocacy group SNAP (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests) has alleged that Prevost may have failed to act against abuse claims involving Richard McGrath, a former president of Providence Catholic High School, allowing him to remain in his position despite longstanding accusations

I am not going to get into morality politics on my blog.

Let me have my memes please, the world is already on fire.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 2 - Doctor

@jegulus-microfic July 2, Word count 1000

Regulus had always dreamed about being a doctor. His parents had mostly approved. They would have preferred he’d chosen to be a solicitor or an accountant, but they decided that doctor was also a respectable profession as long as he went into the correct area. Such as plastics, where all the money was. They had a friend who ran the plastics department at St Thomas’s in London and they arranged for him to train under him once Regulus finished medical school. 

But Regulus had other plans. He secretly sent out feelers to other hospitals and got offered a job in York. It was the one that he’d secretly hoped for. Sirius had moved up to York after he’d fled their family home. He’d gone to university there and fallen in love with the kindest man Regulus had ever met. Of course, his parents didn’t know that he knew any of this. 

He’d had all his correspondence sent to Sirius’s house and he’d go out on daily walks to phone his brother on a separate phone Sirius had sent him and paid for so they could talk without their parents finding out. 

Graduation day came. He was top of his class and a highly sought-after new doctor. He had his picture taken, said goodbye to his classmates and made a run for it. He left his parents complaining about the pitiful excuse for food that had been laid out for them and ran to Sirius’s waiting car. 

“Hey, Reggie!” Sirius’s smile was full of love and Regulus couldn’t help himself. He flung himself across the gear stick and hugged his brother as tightly as he could. “I’ve missed you too,” Sirius spoke quietly into his ear. 

They rushed back to his parent’s house and hurriedly carted the few boxes of his belongings down the three flights of stairs and out to Sirius’s car. Soon they were on the M1 and on their way north. 

He hadn’t just left his parents with no idea where he’d gone. He’d told them he had found another job and was sorry he left like he did, but he had no interest in learning how to pull back wrinkly old skin, so people could kid themselves that they looked younger than they were. He thanked them for everything they’d done for him and hoped that they would still want him in their lives. 

Remus was waiting for them at the front door. He flung his arms open and gave Regulus a firm, warm hug. 

“I’m so glad you made it, Reggie,” He said as he ruffled Regulus’s hair. They’d become good friends over the years since he and Sirius had met, even before they’d started dating. Sirius would drunk dial him and Regulus would spend most of the night chatting with Remus while Sirius did keg stands and made a show of himself. 

“Can we take you on a tour tomorrow? You can get to know the city before you start your first shift.” Sirius asked over dinner. Sirius had braved the locals to go to the chippy round the corner. It was excellent, the best fish and chips he’d ever had. 

Regulus went to sleep that night, finally feeling free for the first time in his life. He took Sirius up on his offer to see the small city. They ate breakfast and hopped on a bus into the city centre. Sirius took him to see the giant cathedral towering over the other buildings. Then through the Shambles, an ancient medieval street. The narrow street was jam-packed with shops and shoppers. The top levels of the buildings overhanging the street below. They took a walk along the bar walls that wrapped around the entire city, protecting it from enemy armies. Sirius took him on a river cruise down the Ouse and then into the Dungeons to learn about Dick Turpin. 

“Stand and deliver, your money or your life!” Sirius had yelled at him as he jabbed him in the back with a fake sword he’d gotten from the gift shop. 

“Turpin would have used pistols, not a sword,” Regulus pointed out. Sirius shrugged and poked him again. They walked down by the river to get home. His feet hurt but it had been worth it. The city was beautiful and he’d spent more time with his brother than he had for years. Tomorrow he’d start at the hospital and he needed to be wide awake to be on his game. 

Sirius dropped him off at the door, kissed his cheek and handed him a packed lunch. 

“Look at our boy Remus, all grown up and off to be a doctor.” Sirius pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes. 

“There, there dear. He’s a big boy now, we have to let him go,” Remus made his voice deep but struggled by the end, as he couldn’t help laughing. 

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. C'ya later.” He blew them a kiss anyway and walked through the doors. 

The resident in charge of them was the most handsome man Regulus had ever seen. He had to take a few deep breaths to calm his speeding heart. He felt suddenly very warm and could feel himself beginning to sweat. 

“Dr Black?” Dr James Potter looked up from his list. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Sirius Black would you?” 

“Yes, he’s my brother, Dr Potter,” Regulus replied in as even a voice as he could. 

“He’s one of my best friends, I’ll be sure to let him know how you’re getting on,” Dr Potter winked at him. Regulus felt lightheaded. Oh, great, now he not only fancied his mentor but the guy just happened to be Sirius’s friend. He should have known better than to move in with his brother. Well, he was going to prove he deserved to be here. 

Dr Potter looked at him, his eyes glimmering with something.

“Well, this is going to be fun,” James grinned widely before they began the morning rounds. 

[absmarchive]

Two St. Thomas groups take opposing stands on abortion rights at Planned Parenthood clinic

[scotianostra]

On June 13th 1831 James Clerk Maxwell was born in Edinburgh.

James Clerk Maxwell was no ordinary child, considering what he achieved! He attended school in the city and was nicknamed ‘daftie’ by his classmates, due to his home-made clothing and rustic accent. Despite the teasing, he excelled at the school, producing a scientific paper at the age of just 14, he later studied at the Universities of Edinburgh and Cambridge.

He graduated with a degree in mathematics from Trinity College, Cambridge and soon after started his career as a Professor of Physics in Marischal College, Aberdeen. He then switched to King’s College, London and then at Cambridge as the first ever Professor of Experimental Physics.

Ask physicists to rank their heroes, and Maxwell is in the top three, standing a shade below Newton and Einstein. But when it comes to being celebrated by the public, somehow Maxwell gets left behind. Einstein’s image is well known and Newton’s pilgrims regularly flock to his tomb at Westminster. But few Scos would recognise Maxwell’s face.

His theories on the composition of the rings of Saturn was so far ahead of it’s time that they were only confirmed to be correct in the 1980s when the Voyager space expeditions allowed closer examination of Saturn. He also predicted the existence of radio waves. Maxwell gave us the first colour photograph in a collaboration with Thomas Sutton, and of course being a Scot he knew the best thing to capture different colours would be a piece of tartan!

It has been said that Maxwell was one of the most likeable men in the annals of science, well he would be, being a Scot! How can you not like a man who sends a heartfelt letter of condolence on the death of a friend’s dog? A man who patiently nursed his dying father, and later his wife, and who regularly gave up his time to volunteer at the new “Working Men’s Colleges” for tradesmen? It seems that everyone who knew him thought of him as kind and generous, albeit a little eccentric. He was “one of the best men who ever lived”, according to his childhood friend and biographer, Lewis Campbell.

It seems a sin that a man held in such high esteem in the scientific world hardly gets a mention in our history books, even in death he is very understated, his grave is a simple affair in Parton Kirk, Galloway, granted, there is now a statue of Maxwell Clerk in George Street but it is relatively new affair, and I wonder how many actually know about him as they pass him on the way in and out of St Andrews Square. Maxwell was ranked 91st on the BBC poll of the 100 Greatest Britons, a figure way too low for a man who inspired people like Albert Einstein, another poll put him in a more favourable light, when a survey of the 100 most prominent physicists saw Maxwell voted the third greatest physicist of all time, again behind only Newton and Einstein. Einstein himself described Maxwell’s work as the “most profound and the most fruitful that physics has experienced since the time of Newton.” Einstein kept a photograph of Maxwell on his study wall, alongside pictures of Michael Faraday and Newton.

Most men of science are portrayed as dour serious folk, that is certainly not the case with James Clerk Maxwell, he has been described as funny, flippant and charming.

As a great lover of Scottish poetry, Maxwell memorised poems and wrote his own. The best known is Rigid Body Sings, closely based on Comin’ Thro the Rye by Robert Burns, which he apparently used to sing while accompanying himself on a guitar. It has the opening lines:

Gin a body meet a body

Flyin’ through the air.

Gin a body hit a body,

Will it fly? And where?

A collection of his poems was published by his friend Lewis Campbell in 1882.

I've added the full verse of his verse Song Of The Edinburgh Academician, my favourite of the poems by the great man.

[batboyblog]

The Long Run by James Acker

Teenage Dirtbags by James Acker

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Another Dimension of Us by Mike Albo

Wonders of the Invisible World by Christopher Barzak

Alan Cole Is Not a Coward by Eric Bell

Alan Cole Doesn’t Dance by Eric Bell

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

Felix Yz by Lisa Bunker

Last Bus to Everland by Sophie Cameron

Dragging Mason County by Curtis Campbell

The House of Impossible Beauties by Joseph Cassara

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Carry the Ocean by Heidi Cullinan

The Love Interest by Cale Dietrich

Dear Mothman by Robin Gow

Half Bad by Sally Green

Half Wild by Sally Green

Half Lost by Sally Green

Heartbreak Boys by Simon James Green

Gay Club by Simon James Green

You’re the One That I Want by Simon James Green

We Contain Multitudes by Sarah Henstra

Totally Joe by James Howe

After School Activities by Dirk Hunter

At the Edge of the Universe by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried by Shaun David Hutchinson

We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley by Shaun David Hutchinson

A Complicated Love Story Set in Space by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Boy Who Couldn’t Fly Straight by Jeff Jacobson

Haffling by Caleb James

The Lightning-Struck Heart by T.J. Klune

A Destiny of Dragons by T.J. Klune

The Consumption of Magic by T.J. Klune

A Wish Upon the Stars by T.J. Klune

The Extraordinaries by T.J. Klune

Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

Heat Wave by T.J. Klune

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune

Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg

The Bridge by Bill Konigsberg

Destination Unknown by Bill Konigsberg

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan

Every Day by David Levithan

Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan

Ryan and Avery by David Levithan

How to Repair a Mechanical Heart by J.C. Lillis

Take a Bow, Noah Mitchell by Tobias Madden

The Minus-One Club by Kekla Magoon

When Ryan Came Back by Devon McCormack

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Fraternity by Andy Mientus

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller

Hero by Perry Moore

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

More Than This by Patrick Ness

Junior Hero Blues by J.K. Pendragon

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

When Everything Feels Like the Movies by Raziel Reid

Kens by Raziel Reid

Emmett by Lev A.C. Rosen

Jack of Hearts (And Other Parts) by Lev A.C. Rosen

Camp by Lev A.C. Rosen

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

Rainbow Boys by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow High by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow Road by Alex Sanchez

So Hard to Say by Alex Sanchez

The 99 Boyfriends of Micah Summers by Adam Sass

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

How to Get Over the End of the World by Hal Schrieve

All Kinds of Other by James Sie

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

Freak Show by James St. James

Ray of Sunlight by Brynn Stein

The Dangerous Art of Blending In by Angelo Surmelis

366 Days by Kiyoshi Tanaka

The Language of Seabirds by Will Taylor

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

Wild and Crooked by Leah Thomas

Because You’ll Never Meet Me by Leah Thomas

Spin Me Right Round by David Valdes

Always the Almost by Edward Underhill

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

I've yet again updated my very big list, if you've read any of these let me know, if you need help picking one just ask!

[lboogie1906]

Dame Rita M. de Chabert-Schuster (May 27, 1933 - October 23, 2023) philanthropist, entrepreneur, educator, and real estate developer was born in Christiansted, Virgin Islands to Ralph de Magne de Chabert, Sr., and Ansetta Muckle de Chabert Clarke. She had four siblings.

She graduated from Christiansted High School, where she was crowned “Miss CHS,” the Homecoming Queen. She graduated from Howard University with a BS. She returned home to teach at the old Christiansted Public Grammar School on King Street.

She married Lowell Osmond Schuster (1954). They had four children.

On November 23, 1970, she with her mother and siblings, began the construction of Sunny Isle Shopping Center, a de Chabert family enterprise. It is one of the largest shopping malls in the Caribbean, and the de Chabert family sold the center to Sunny Isle Developers in 2005.

She was a Board member of the Virgin Islands Hospital and Health Facilities Corporation (1996-99). In 2004, She renovated an 1817 former variety store building and successfully petitioned to have it recognized as a historic site by the Saint Croix Historic Preservation Commission. In 2008, she donated to Catholic Charities the three-story building comprising 11 fully furnished efficiency units at #16 Friedenstahl in Christiansted, which serves as the St. Teresa of Calcutta House of Hope, Catholic Charities. It was the first large-scale investment in transitional housing on St. Croix and was funded by HUD through the Virgin Islands Housing Finance Authority.

She received the “Keys and Sword Award Benefits” as the Knights and Dames of Malta from the Diocese of Saint Thomas. Knights and Dames of the Order of Malta devote their lives to the defense of the faith and the service of needy people. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #deltasigmatheta

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 25

1800 – The Commonwealth of Virginia reduces the penalty for free peoples who commit buggery down from the death penalty to one to ten years in prison, but did not remove the death penalty for slaves who commit buggery.

1874 – British novelist and playwright W. Somerset Maugham (d.1965) was born in Paris, where his father Robert Ormond Maugham was an English lawyer who handled the legal affairs of the British embassy.

Maugham was sent back to England to be cared for by his uncle, a Vicar, in Kent. The move was damaging, as Henry Maugham proved cold and emotionally cruel. The boy attended The King's School, Canterbury, which was also difficult for him. He was teased for his bad English (French had been his first language) and his short stature, which he inherited from his father. Maugham developed a stammer that would stay with him all his life.

Miserable both at his uncle's vicarage and at school, the young Maugham developed a talent for making wounding remarks to those who displeased him. This ability is sometimes reflected in Maugham's literary characters. At sixteen, Maugham refused to continue at The King's School. His uncle allowed him to travel to Germany, where he studied literature, philosophy and German at Heidelberg University. During his year in Heidelberg, Maugham met and had a sexual affair with John Ellingham Brooks, an Englishman ten years his senior.

On his return to England, the local doctor suggested he enter the medical profession and Maugham's uncle agreed. Maugham had been writing steadily since the age of 15 and fervently wished to become an author, but as he was not of age, he refrained from telling his guardian. For the next five years, he studied medicine at St Thomas' Hospital in Lambeth, London.

Maugham kept his own lodgings, took pleasure in furnishing them, filled many notebooks with literary ideas, and continued writing nightly while at the same time studying for his medical degree. In 1897, he wrote his first novel, Liza of Lambeth, a tale of working-class adultery and its consequences. Liza of Lambeth's first print run sold out in a matter of weeks. Maugham, who had qualified as a doctor, dropped medicine and embarked on his 65-year career as a man of letters. He later said, "I took to it as a duck takes to water."

The famous playwright was twenty-one when Oscar Wilde was put on trial. It was enough to make him "publicly straight." Frightened by the Oscar Wilde trial, Maugham avoided treating homosexual themes and characters in his novels and plays. He later said that his biggest mistake was "I tried to persuade myself that I was three-quarters normal and that only quarter of me was queer — whereas it was the other way around."

By 1914 Maugham was famous, with 10 plays produced and 10 novels published. Too old to enlist when World War I broke out, Maugham served in France as a member of the British Red Cross's so-called "Literary Ambulance Drivers", a group of some 23 well-known writers, including the Americans John Dos Passos and E. E. Cummings. During this time, he met Frederick Gerald Haxton, a young San Franciscan, who became his companion and lover until Haxton's death in 1944. Throughout this period Maugham continued to write. He proofread Of Human Bondage at a location near Dunkirk during a lull in his ambulance duties. Maugham also worked for British Intelligence in mainland Europe during the war, having been recruited by John Wallinger; he was one of the network of British agents who operated in Switzerland against the Berlin Committee. Maugham was later recruited by William Wiseman to work in Russia

Although Maugham's first and many other sexual relationships were with men, he also had sexual relationships with a number of women. His affair with Syrie Wellcome produced a daughter named Liza. Syrie's husband Henry Wellcome sued his wife for divorce, naming Maugham as co-respondent. In May 1917, following the decree absolute, Syrie and Maugham were married. Syrie and Maugham divorced in 1927-8 after a tempestuous marriage complicated by Maugham's frequent travels abroad and strained by his relationship with Haxton.

The gap left by Haxton's death in 1944 was filled by Alan Searle. Maugham had first met Searle in 1928. Searle was a young man from the London slum area of Bermondsey and he had already been kept by older men. He proved a devoted if not a stimulating companion. Indeed one of Maugham's friends, describing the difference between Haxton and Searle, said simply: "Gerald was vintage, Alan was vin ordinaire."

Despite his wealth, his fame, and the love of his secretary-companion Gerald Haxton and later, Searle, Maugham died a bitter man but among the pantheon of the most prolific and read writers of the 20th century. And if you haven't read him, you've watched his stories. No less than 35 film shave been made from his novels and short stories including The Razor's Edge, Of Human Bondage, Being Julia, The Moon and Sixpence and Sadie Thompson (later called Rain.)

1892 – Lesbian writer Virginia Woolf was born in London (d.1941). The most celebrated of the Bloomsbury set, her writing is cerebral, and subtle.

Woolf was born Adeline Virginia Stephen on January 25, 1882, in Hyde Park Gate, London, the daughter of Leslie Stephen, a man of letters, and Julia Pattle Duckworth. Virginia's mother's first marriage ended with the death of her husband, leaving her with three children, one of whom, Gerald Duckworth, is known to have sexually molested Woolf as an adolescent.

Her adolescence was marked as well by a sequence of deaths and the first bout of a mental illness that would haunt her for the rest of her life: Her mother died in 1895; her half-sister Stella, who served as mother-substitute, in 1897; her father in 1904 and her brother Thoby in 1906. She experienced her first mental breakdown at the age of thirteen following her mother's death, while the final one ended with her suicide when she walked into the river Ouse on March 28, 1941.

Woolf developed her closest attachment to her sister Vanessa, what she called "a very close conspiracy." The two sisters functioned as co-conspirators in their alliance as women artists, on the one hand against the tyranny of the father who repeatedly sought to enlist their services as surrogate wives; on the other hand, against Victorian mores that considered marriage the only suitable profession for middle-class daughters.

Following Leslie Stephen's death, the four siblings moved to Bloomsbury, a section of London that would eventually give name to a group of artists and intellectuals, the Bloomsbury Group. This group began when her brother Thoby and his Cambridge friends moved back to London and met every Thursday evening to discuss art and literature, as well as pressing political issues such as pacifism and socialism. Initially, Virginia and Vanessa were the only two women present, as Thoby's sisters but also as intellectuals and artists. Several of the male participants were avowed homosexuals, including Lytton Strachey, who proposed to Virginia in 1909, although the engagement was almost immediately broken off.

Woolf's relationship to gay men remained an ambivalent one. On the one hand, she appreciated a lack of sexual interest that made it possible for her to have access to an intellectual environment based on an indifference to her gender; on the other hand, the absence of women meant a lacking female eroticism that for her prohibited creativity. Much later, on August 19, 1930, she wrote in a letter to Ethel Smyth: "It is true that I only want to show off to women. Women alone stir my imagination."

In 1912, she married Leonard Woolf, "a penniless Jew," also a member of the Bloomsbury Group, a political writer who had recently returned from service in India. This marriage is considered to have been a supportive although passionless one. In 1917, the Woolfs established Hogarth Press as an attempt to engage Virginia in more practical work in the hope of keeping at bay further bouts of mental illness. The Press published the works of several lesbian and gay writers, including E. M. Forster, Christopher Isherwood, and Vita Sackville-West.

Woolf had several intense friendships with women throughout her life. They often resulted in literary works, not always published, written as tribute to friendships that greatly fostered—but were ultimately confined to—writing. Often these women were older, unmarried, more masculine in appearance, and highly successful artists; often they offered Woolf some form of maternal protection as she struggled with another incident of physical or mental illness. None of these relationships is known to have had a sexual component.

Woolf's first passionate friendship was with Madge Vaughan, the daughter of the well-known writer and sexologist, John Addington Symonds, whom Woolf met at the age of sixteen and who was to serve as a model for Sally Seton in Mrs. Dalloway (1925). Violet Dickinson, almost twice Woolf's age when she nursed her during the mental breakdown following the death of her father, was an unmarried Quaker for whom she wrote "Friendship Gallery" (1907), a spoof biography that anticipates Orlando (1928). Much later Woolf looked back on this friendship as the one that enabled her to say for the first time with confidence, "I am a writer." The final of such friendships was with Ethel Smyth, a well-known composer, whom Virginia met in 1930, when Woolf was forty-eight and Smyth seventy years old.

Woolfe's greatest love was probably Vita Sackville-West, with whom she had the only intense friendship to include a physical relationship. Although married to Leonard Woolf, the ethos of Bloomsbury discouraged sexual exclusivity, and in 1922, when Woolf met poet and novelist Vita Sackville-West, after a tentative start they began a relationship that lasted through most of the 1920s. The sexual affair began in 1925, the point at which Woolf wrote in her Diary, "These Sapphists love women; friendship is never untinged with amorosity" (December 21), and is thought to have lasted until 1928. During that time, Vita took two trips to Persia to visit her husband who was working in the British embassy in Tehran. The second time she traveled in the company of another woman, which began to create a rift as Woolf became less and less tolerant of Vita's other affairs.

In 1928, Woolf and E. M. Forster wrote a letter defending Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness, not as a good novel or because of its lesbian content, but in the name of free speech. Various members of Bloomsbury appeared at the obscenity trial prepared to testify as expert witnesses, including Woolf, who described her presence as a way of also defending Vita's Sapphism.

In 1928, Woolf presented Sackville-West with "Orlando," a fantastical biography in which the eponymous hero's life spans three centuries and both genders. It has been called by Nigel Nicolson, Vita Sackville-West's son, "the longest and most charming love letter in literature."

After their affair ended, the two women remained friends until Woolf's death in 1941.

1915 – Josef Kohout (d.1994), German concentration camp survivor and author, was born in Vienna. By age sixteen, he was already aware of his homosexuality. His love for the son of an Nazi party functionary led to his arrest in late 1938. Kohout served a seven-month prison sentence.

After a second arrest, Josef Kohout was sent to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp in mid-January 1940. Four months later, he was transferred to Flossenbürg. He worked as a Kapo in forced labor in the loading commando at the train station. His position as a Kapo was unusual for a homosexual inmate. He survived, as he himself explained, because of his good relations with other “green” Kapos. During the death march in April 1945, Kohout succeeded in escaping near Cham.

Male homosexuality remained a crime after 1945. For decades, Josef Kohout fought for recognition as a victim of National Socialism. The years of his concentration camp incarceration were not counted toward his pension until 1992. Using the pseudonym Heinz Heger, his experiences were published under the title “The Men with the Pink Triangle” in the 1970s. The unique testimony was accorded great respect within the gay movement.

Josef Kohout lived with his male partner in Vienna until his death on March 15, 1994. He never received reparations for his persecution.

Aaron Fricke (R) with Paul Guilbert

1962 – Aaron Fricke is an American gay rights activist. He was born in Providence, Rhode Island. He is best known for the pivotal case in which he successfully sued his high school for not allowing him to bring his boyfriend, Paul Guilbert, to the senior prom at Cumberland High School in Cumberland, Rhode Island.

At the age of 17, shortly after he came out in 1980, Frick decided to take a male date to the high school prom. "The simple thing would have been to go to the senior prom with a girl. But that would have been a lie — a lie to myself, to the girl, and to all the other students." When the high school informed Fricke he could not bring him to the prom, he filed suit in U.S. District court. The presiding judge, Raymond J. Pettine, ruled in Fricke's favor, ordering the school to not only allow him and his partner to attend as a couple but also to provide enough security to ensure their safety. He recounts the battle over that date in in "Reflections of a Rock Lobster: A Story About Growing Up Gay."

He later collaborated with his father, Walter, on a book about their relationship and of the elder Fricke's coming to terms with his son's homosexuality. That book, "Sudden Strangers: The Story of a Gay Son and His Father", was published in 1989.

The suit brought by Aaron Fricke against his school is considered a major milestone in the history of gay rights. Each year cases of young same-sex couples being discriminated against by their schools happen around the world, and when these cases are brought to court, the suit first brought by Aaron Fricke and Paul Guilbert is invariably cited by the plaintiff's counsel.

1963 – Don Mancini is an American screenwriter, producer, and film director. Mancini is best known for creating the character of Chucky, and writing all of the films in the Child's Play series. Mancini was also the executive producer of Bride of Chucky, and he directed, Seed of Chucky, as well as the latest installment in Child's Play franchise, Curse of Chucky.

Along with Michael McDowell and Clive Barker, Mancini is one of the few openly gay writers in the slasher film genre.

In 2007, he won the EyeGore award for career contributions to the horror genre. He sometimes goes by the pseudonym Kit Du Bois (also spelled Kit Dubois).

1970 – Stephen Chbosky is an American novelist, screenwriter, and film director best known for writing the New York Times bestselling coming-of-age novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower (1999), as well as for screenwriting and directing the film version of the same book, starring Logan Lerman, Emma Watson, and Ezra Miller. He also wrote the screenplay for the 2005 film Rent, and was co-creator, executive producer, and writer of the CBS television series Jericho, which began airing in 2006.

Chbosky was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He was raised Catholic. As a teenager, Chbosky "enjoyed a good blend of the classics, horror, and fantasy." He was heavily influenced by J. D. Salinger's novel The Catcher in the Rye and the writing of F. Scott Fitzgerald and Tennessee Williams. Chbosky graduated from Upper St. Clair High School in 1988, around which time he met Stewart Stern, screenwriter of the 1955 James Dean film Rebel Without a Cause. Stern became Chbosky's "good friend and mentor", and proved a major influence on Chbosky's career.He wrote, directed, and acted in the 1995 independent film The Four Corners of Nowhere, which got Chbosky his first agent, was accepted by the Sundance Film Festival, and became one of the first films shown on the Sundance Channel. In the late 1990s, Chbosky wrote several unproduced screenplays, including ones titled Audrey Hepburn's Neck and Schoolhouse Rock. In 1994, Chbosky was working on a "very different type of book" than The Perks of Being a Wallflower when he wrote the line, "I guess that's just one of the perks of being a wallflower." Chbosky recalled that he "wrote that line. And stopped. And realized that somewhere in that [sentence] was the kid I was really trying to find." After several years of gestation, Chbosky began researching and writing The Perks of Being a Wallflower, an epistolary novel that follows the intellectual and emotional maturation of a teenager who uses the alias Charlie over the course of his first year of high school. The book is semi-autobiographical; Chbosky has said that he "relate[s] to Charlie[...] But my life in high school was in many ways different."

The book, Chbosky's first novel, was published by MTV Books in 1999, and was an immediate popular success with teenage readers; by 2000, the novel was MTV Books' best-selling title, and The New York Times noted in 2007 that it had sold more than 700,000 copies and "is passed from adolescent to adolescent like a hot potato". As of May 2013, the number of copies in print reached over two million. Wallflower also stirred up controversy due to Chbosky's portrayal of teen sexuality and drug use. The book has been removed from circulation in several schools and appeared on the American Library Association's 2004, 2006, 2007, 2008, and 2009 lists of the 10 most frequently challenged books. As of July 2013, The Perks of Being a Wallflower had spent over a year on the New York Times Bestseller list, and is published in 31 languages.

Chbosky lives and works in Los Angeles, California. He is an active gay rights supporter, and he continues to work on films.

1993 – South Africa adopted its post-Apartheid constitution. The breathtaking freedoms declared in this document made South Africa the first nation to bar discrimination based on sexual orientation.

[glittery-phonaesthemes]

In 2022, Lisa Perley-Dutcher, a longtime nurse and health professional, opened the first and only Wolastoqey immersion school in Fredericton.

Since then, 18 students have attended Kekhimin, currently based in a temporary space at the Killarney Lake Rotary Lodge.

Growing up, Perley-Dutcher attended a day school at Neqotkuk (Tobique) First Nation, where children suffered physical and emotion abuse, including being strapped if they spoke their own language.

In her mind, this connected her language with pain and she avoided speaking it while growing up. Relearning her language as an adult has helped her address "those traumas," she said.

Establishing her immersion school has been a way to turn the tables. Fewer than 100 people speak Wolastoqey fluently and most are elders, so this is a way to keep the language from disappearing.

Perley-Dutcher, a registered nurse for 30 years, said that the deaths of older family members caused her to realize the importance of language preservation, which she called a vital aspect of health.

She spent her whole career working in community health nursing to improve health outcomes for First Nations people, including setting up a national home care program called First Nations and Inuit Home and Community Care, and serving as the president of the Indigenous Nurses Association of Canada.

While leading that association, her focus was to create a mandate to provide culturally competent care to Indigenous communities, which included spearheading the "first Aboriginal nursing initiative" program at UNB, she said, called Nutsihpiluwewicik, to provide a bridge for First Nations people to enter the profession.

"My career has been very much focused on health," Perley-Dutcher said.

"I did my masters on cultural competency and cultural safety, I've done some work with communities in terms of looking at racism and how to deal with that, setting up patient navigators in our healthcare system."

In 2021, she graduated from a language program St. Thomas University.

"I took a two-year language intensive program on Wolastoqey and after I finished that, me and some of my fellow students, we set up a language immersion program," she said.

She said that she directly connects Indigenous health to all elements of Indigenous life, including language.

"I feel like this also is addressing a health outcome in terms of identity, in terms of mental health and self worth and the whole process of reclaiming language in itself."

Perley-Dutcher's son, Jeremy Dutcher, is an award-winning musician. His career is devoted to revitalizing Wolastoqey culture through music, and his first album, Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa, was entirely in the Wolastoqey language.

Dutcher, who is based in Montreal, said that this was because it was his first language and "our young people didn't have music in our language."

"When we enter a room, we're going to introduce ourselves in our language first," Dutcher said.

"And so for me, I was like, 'it's got to be rooted within a cultural place.' If you're going to introduce yourself, you've got to do it properly."

The language was something that Dutcher was familiar with from his childhood but he taught himself to read and write it when studying music and anthropology at Dalhousie University.

He credits his mother for his focus on language and culture and says that, because of that, he's "been trying to shout about Kehkimin from the rooftops."

Dutcher said that his involvement with Kehkimin intensified during the early stages of the pandemic, when concerts and live performances stopped. He was forced to think about the deeper significance of his music, which "is to talk about the language."

Now, Dutcher works with teachers on language development and pays visits to the school whenever he's in Fredericton to meet with and encourage the students.

Dutcher said that intergenerational commitments like his and his mother's are vital.

When the older generation gathers, they often speak together in Wolastoqey. Some even still speak the language at family gatherings, where younger generations can't understand, making it clear how much has been lost.

Because of this, he said it's important to have a strong connection between youth and elders, "weaving together those generational ties because there's so much that we can learn from each other."

Perley-Dutcher said Kehkimin has been supported by the province but lost significant funding in recent cuts. In 2023, funding received from New Brunswick's Environmental Trust Fund was cut from $85,000 to $35,000.

She said that government funding is essential and they suffer greatly without it.

"We're trying to save a language here," she said. "It's vitally important that it happens now, or it's not going to happen."

Because of funding cuts, the school has had to reduce its hours to half days and reduce the number of teachers they hire.

Perley-Dutcher said it is hard to run the school without a permanent space. Though Kehkimin has use of the Killarney Lake Rotary Lodge and a nearby house, they are leased spaces for $1 a year.

Though she praised the city's generosity, she said that they have had difficulty securing funding for renovations to the house, which must be renovated before use, without ownership.

She also said the cuts mean that the school now has just six staff members making it hard to juggle the day-to-day operations, write funding applications, and provide safe, quality education for the students.

But Perley-Dutcher said she appreciates the funding that they still do receive because it allows them to continue.

"So, I am grateful for that. The city has been very generous to us."

The City of Fredericton gave the school a three-year lease of Killarney Lodge for $1 per year, and a 10-year lease on a nearby house, which needs renovation before being used. Kekhimin is currently trying to raise funds for this renovation.

Despite the difficulty of the work, Perley-Dutcher said that it has been tremendous for her.

"It's probably the hardest work I've done so far in my career. I get very little sleep. I put a lot into it and our team puts a lot into it," she said.

"It's good though. It's good for the soul. My healing has occurred … it's such a wonderful gift that I've been given to be able to do this work."

[mlmshipbracket]

Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Propaganda Submissions

Below you will find all of the submitted and approved ships for the Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Tournament along with the form to submit further propaganda at the bottom

This is another opportunity to submit propaganda for your favorite ships. Wether you were unable to submit propaganda for them in the initial form or you spot your favorite ship who has no propaganda submitted. Ships with a strikethrough have propaganda submitted, I will continue to update this post as propaganda is submitted. I will accept further propaganda for ships with already submitted propaganda but please prioritize those with out.

The goal is to have propaganda for all ships but I understand that may not be possible. Therefore I will be leaving the form open for a few weeks to see if we receive propaganda for at least half the ships.

Note: Please reach out to me if you spot any mistakes in character or fandom names, even if it is only formatting or spelling issues.

Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

Kyojuro Rengoku/Akaza (Demon Slayer)

Mikhail”Misha” [Heavy]/Dr. Ludwig [Medic] (Team Fortress 2)

Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas (Homestuck)

Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng (Guardian, 2018)

Oliver Marks/James Farrow (If We Were Villains)

David Starsky/Kenneth "Hutch" Hutchinson (Starsky & Hutch)

Tinn/Gun (My School President)

Loki Odinson/Mobius M. Mobius (Loki)

Jaime Reyes/Bart Allen (DC Comics)

Levi Schmitt/Nico Kim (Grey's Anatomy)

Ren Amamiya or Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi (Persona 5)

Wallace Price/ Hugo Freeman (Under the Whispering Door)

Daffy Duck/Bugs Bunny (Looney Toons)

Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan (Guardian, 2018)

Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim (SKAM)

Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton (Montague Siblings)

Nico di Angelo/Will Solace (Camp Half-Blood Chronicles)

Argos/Mr. Plant (The World of Mr. Plant)

Richard St Vier/Alec Campion (Swordspoint Universe)

Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz (The Umbrella Academy)

Woody/Buzz Lightyear (Toy Story)

Victor Lawson/Hap (In the Lives of Puppets

Charlie/Babe (Pit Babe The Series)

Fred/Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)

Simon Snow/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Grimm-Pitch (Carry On)

Gaius Octavius/Jedediah Smith (Night at the Museum)

Sound/Win (My School President)

Pat/Pran (Bad Buddy)

Mike Wazowski/James "Sulley" P. Sullivan (Monsters, Inc.)

Nicholas “Nick” Bell/ Seth Gray (The Extraordinaries)

Evan 'Buck' Buckley/Edmundo 'Eddie' Diaz (9-1-1)

Sean/White (Not Me: The Series)

Vegas Theerapanyakun/Pete Saengtham (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Runaan/Ethari (The Dragon Prince)

Larry Daley/Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum)

Tintin/Captain Archibald Haddock (Tintin comics)

Bai Lang/Jin Xun An (My Tooth Your Love)

Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin (The Man from U.N.C.L.E)

Wario/Waluigi (Mario franchise)

Peter Parker/Miguel O'Hará (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse)

Steve Rogers/Anthony "Tony" Stark (Marvel Comics)

Dave Miller/Jack "Old sport" Kennedy (Dayshift at Freddy's)

Boston/Nick (Only Friends)

Kinn Theerapanyakun/Porsche Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Craig Cuttlefish/Octavio Takowasa (Splatoon)

Tulio/Miguel (The Road to El Dorado)

Sun Wukong/Neptune Vasilias (RWBY)

Zachary Ezra Rawlins/Dorian (The Starless Sea)

Fox Mulder/Alex Krycek (The X-Files)

Thomas/Newt (The Maze Runner)

Fulgrim/Ferrus Manus (Warhammer 40k)

Kim Theerapanyakun/Porchay Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane (The Mortal Instruments)

Tan/Bun (Manner of Death)

Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi (RWBY)

Rhy Maresh/Alucard Emery (Shades of Magic)

Yashiro Isana/Kuroh Yatogami (K Project)

Jaskier/Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Dustfinger/Mortimer "Mo" Folchart (Inkworld series)

Brandon/Sky (Winx Club)

Phineas Taylor “P. T.” Barnum/Phillip Carlyle (The Greatest Showman)

Alfred Hillinghead/Henry Ashe (Bodies TV Show)

Baal/Inanna (The Wicked + the Divine)

Timothy "Tim" Drake/Bernard Dowd (DC Comics)

Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun Stampede)

Anthony Lockwood/Quill Kipps (Lockwood and Co)

Henry Winter/Francis Abernathy (The Secret History)

Crowley/Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Dainix/Falst (Aurora Comic)

Prince Rupert/Prince Amir (The Two Princes)

Finn/Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Jean Luc Picard/Q (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

Will Stronghold/Warren Peace (Sky High)

Heart/Li Ming (Moonlight Chicken)

Wallace Wells/Todd Ingram (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off)

Sunai/Veyadi Lut (The Archive Undying)

Linus Baker/Arthur Parnassus (The House in the Cerulean Sea)

Aaron Slaughter/Jace Boucher (House of Slaughter)

Hercule Poirot/Captain Arthur Hastings (Hercule Poirot)

Phaya/Tharn (The Sign)

Hercules/Iolaus (Hercules: The Legendary Journeys)

Todd/Black (Not Me: The Series)

Julio "Rictor" Esteban Richter/Shatterstar (Marvel Comics)

Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu (Word of Honor)

Siffrin/Isabeau (In Stars and time)

Kendall Knight/Logan Mitchell (Big Time Rush TV Show)

Yuichiro Hiyakuya/Mikaela Hyakuya (Owari no Seraph/Seraph of the End)

Palm/Nuengdiao (Never Let Me Go)

Khatha/Dome (Midnight Museum)

Asterix/Obelix (Asterix Comics)

Bowser/Luigi (Mario Franchise)

Lucien "Luc" O'Donnell/Oliver Blackwood (London Calling)

Kazuki Kurusu/Rei Suwa (Buddy Daddies)

Benjamin “Ben” Tennyson/Kevin Ethan Levin (Ben 10: Alien Force)

Lumière/Cogsworth (Beauty and the Beast)

Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (DC Comics)

Spy/Dell Conagher [Engineer] (Team Fortress 2)

Shanks/Buggy (One Piece)

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Ecks (Six of Crows)

Harold Finch/John Reese (Person of Interest)

Ulrich Stern/Odd Della Robbia (Code Lyoko)

Vincent Freeman/Jerome Morrow (Gattaca)

Eustass Kid/Killer (One Piece)

Christopher Hitchcock/Jalil Sherman (Everworld)

Frodo Baggins/Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves)