#bom10daychallenge

[likealightsw1tch]

#BOM10DayChallenge

It’s happening.

We could all use a little distraction from real life right now, and the BOM fandom could use a little spark of life, so let’s kill two birds with one stone and GET CREATIVE, KIDS.

Me and @awesome-job-kevin have put together 10 days worth of writing/art challenges, and everyone is welcome to join in. We’re calling the “official” start date APRIL 11th, but there’s no hard schedule here if you get off track. We just want to see people making content :)

Attached are all the details. Please be sure to use the tag in all your posts if you participate. We wanna see your stuff!

EDIT: Everyone PLEASE feel free to go at your own pace!!! No need to keep up every day if you can’t. We just want to motivate people to get the creative juices flowing. There’s no time limit. :)

[badfanartdotcom]

BOM 10 DAY CHALLENGE DAY 5: The other elders finding out about Kevin/Connor

i cannot write so here is the next best thing

[wherepoetswentodie]

BOM Challenge Day 10!

Write a letter from Kevin to Connor on the 10 year anniversary of leaving Uganda. 

I am so tempted to turn this into a full fic but I will somehow find it in myself to hold back. 

(I won’t)

-------------

Somehow, it has been 10 years. 

Kevin doesn’t really know where the time has gone, or what he’s done in those 10 years, but he’s definitely 10 years older. He wishes he could say that he is wiser, but he makes worse decisions at 29 than he did at 19. The only good choice he’s ever made was keeping Arnold Cunningham in his life, but even that didn’t last forever; Arnold had very quickly gotten tired of constantly arguing about whether or not going on a ‘atonement retreat’ really ‘cured him’ of his sins. Kevin was sure that it did, Arnold was sure that it didn’t. Though, Kevin's lack of long-term relationships probably answers that question better than either of them will ever be able to. 

Arnold is still around sometimes, though, so Kevin supposes he can’t complain. Anyone else would have completely abandoned him years ago. 

He sits at his kitchen table, staring down at a notepad and pen, wondering why on earth he is about to write a letter to his first - and only - boyfriend just because some stupid article had told him that writing a letter to your ex is therapeutic and helps you move on. 

The fact that it is 10 years to the day since Kevin turned his back on Connor McKinley seems beyond cruel. He sighs and picks up his pen, twirling it around his fingers for a few minutes before he finally plucks up the courage to write a letter that will never be read. 

Connor, 

I don’t really know why I’m writing this. I think I’m a bit lonely and this almost feels like I’m talking to you again. It’s almost midnight, which is funny, because this is when we used to sneak outside and talk about everything that we were gonna do. And I don’t know about you, but I haven’t done anything that I said I was going to do. I hope you have though. You deserve it. You deserve the world. 

You definitely deserve more than me, and I’m sorry. I never meant to care for you so much, I never meant to fall in love with you, but I did. And I know that you didn’t mean to feel like you did either, and I’m sorry that I led you on for two years only to leave you behind. I didn’t want to, not really, but I was scared of who I was when I was 21. 

And I’m not anymore. I know who I am and what I want. But it doesn’t matter, because we’re both 10 years older and I hope you’ve moved on. I hope you found someone and married him. I hope he’s able to give you everything that you told me you wanted when we were in Uganda. 

And I’m sorry that I wasn’t that person. 

Kevin does not remember hunting (the now married) Chris Thomas down on Facebook and begging him for Connor’s address, or even taking the letter to the post office. 

What he does remember is the butterflies he felt when Connor had tentatively asked him to be his boyfriend all those years ago, because he feels them all over again when he gets a letter back.

[rbcclndr]

Hey guys! Look! I did the thing! I finally finished my one shot! Go check it out if you feel like it lmaoo I hope you like it!

[elderxprice]

[#bom10daychallenge - day3.] There is a liquor store thirty-two miles outside of Provo that Kevin frequents every Thursday after class. He is on a first name basis with the cashier, who scribbles her number on all his receipts. He never calls, but she’s persistent. Eventually Kevin tells her he has a boyfriend, even though he doesn’t – technically.

Oh, wow, she says, and gives him his liquor for free. She feels bad for him. Kevin doesn’t blame her, because he feels bad for himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be parked at the furthest corner of Lot 38, drinking from a bottle of Tanqueray and Skyping with his ex-companion.  

“I’m worried about you, buddy,” Arnold says. He is sitting on the rusted fire-escape of a motel in Kampala, drinking a plastic cup of waragi. He is wearing the beginnings of a proper bedhead and no shirt. There are scratches across his chest and a fading bruise against his neck. Kevin does not want to know why, though he’s sure he could guess. “You’re drinking booze out of the bottle in a BYU parking lot. If someone sees you, you’re totally expelled.”

Kevin shrugs. “I think maybe I want that.”

“Do you? ‘Cause no offense, Kev, I find that a little hard to believe.” Arnold reaches to adjust his laptop - a gift from his overly concerned mother when she learned he was in no rush to come home - and for a blessed second Kevin gets a detailed view of Arnold’s lap. He’s wearing very tight, very small boxers that sit low on his hips; Kevin can make out the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel. “You sat before a disciplinary council and restored your standing with the church, just so you could go there. I’m, like, ninety-nine percent sure that wasn’t very fun for you. Considering.”  He motions with a hand, sending a splash of gin over the lip of his cup. Arnold swears, and licks it off his arm. Kevin shifts in his seat.

“Considering what?” He frowns, propping his phone up on the dashboard. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Arnold snorts, staring into what’s left of his drink. “Okay, sure, I believe that; but I also believe you didn’t tell them everything.”

“Well, yeah, I wasn’t there because of everything. I was there because of your stupid play.” The second he says that, Kevin feels bad. The play wasn’t stupid, it was beautiful; and helped him put a lot of things into perspective. Like how some things are just meant to be symbolic; a catalyst to push you towards greater purpose, and nothing more. Arnold’s play was that for Kevin. After, he no longer wanted to help people by baptizing them into the church, he wanted to help them by providing a sustainable solution to their problems. “I had no part in that, anyway, so it wasn’t exactly hard for me to apologize.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Arnold rolls his eyes. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to be a practicing Mormon, again.”

“Am I, though?” Kevin holds up the bottle of gin.

Arnold sighs; “Whatever, Kev.”

“Look, it’s really not that hard to understand. I love my family, pal. That’s all there is to it.” He thinks Arnold should have been able to figure that out on his own, considering he understands conditional love more than anyone. “Can we talk about something else?”

“I guess.” Arnold moves to sit cross legged, setting his drink down beside him. Kevin watches it tip over. “Why don’t we start with this: what are you wearing?” He offers Kevin an exaggerated wink, that Kevin rolls his eyes to.

“You can see me, Arnold.” Kevin waves a hand down the front of his shirt, which has BYU emblazoned across the front and a hole along the seam of the neckline.

“Not the bottom half.” Arnold lifts his laptop, tipping it so Kevin can see the outline of his dick. “There, you’ve seen mine, now let me see yours.”

“I thought you were worried about me getting expelled?” Reaching for his phone, Kevin complies. He is wearing jeans that leave everything to the imagination. He grins, as Arnold sighs in disappointment.

“Um, yeah, no – that’s not fair.” Arnold leans forward, tapping the screen. “Give me something to work with, Kev! I miss you, like, so fucking much; and we only get to do this once a month.”

This is news to Kevin, considering Arnold made no real effort to keep Kevin with him; and as far as Kevin knows, he still goes to bed with Nabulungi every night. Still, it’s flattering to know he still has this effect on Arnold. He thinks he’d like to keep it that way, even though he is not the only one. Tossing the phone onto the dashboard, Kevin unzips his jeans and tugs them down over his hips. He’s not wearing a single thing under them. Arnold better appreciate this.

“Uh, huh, yeah, that’s way better.”  Arnold lifts a hand to his mouth; it is clear he is smiling behind it. His cheeks are flushed with something other than drink, and it brings Kevin back to Uganda, to the pit latrine where he gave his first blowjob. Arnold’s eyes had been so dark, they were almost unrecognizable; it has scared him and thrilled him all at once.

“Your turn,” Kevin says, wetting his lips. “Fair is fair.”

Arnold looks hesitant, glancing over his shoulder at the building right behind him. “I don’t wanna get arrested, Kevin.”

“And I don’t particularly want to get expelled. Just go inside, then, if you’re scared.” Kevin watches intently as Arnold shuffles to the far corner of the fire-escape, sliding a hand over the bulge between his legs. He’s always been up for a challenge. Kevin’s skin feels like it’s on fire. “Come on, come on, come on,” he urges. The windows of his sedan are fogging up.  

“Were you always this impatient?” But Arnold complies, sitting up on his knees as he shoves his underwear over his hips and down his thighs. He’s already hard; Kevin is not far behind him. “’Cause, I’m pretty sure patience is a Mormon virtue or whatever.”

“You never gave me a chance to be,” Kevin says, sliding a hand down his stomach. Arnold watches intently as Kevin takes himself in hand. “You were always real eager.”  

“Kevin.” Arnold whines, his eyes trained on Kevin’s hand. “Fuck.”

It does not take either of them very long; just a few strokes until Kevin is coming, head tipped back as he spills over his fist. Arnold swears, again, and follows soon thereafter. It gets on his screen.

“Gross,” Kevin laughs as Arnold tries to wipe it off, managing only to spread it around.

“Would you think so if it was on your face?” Arnold grins impishly, and waves before quickly logging off. Kevin wipes his hands on his jeans, once the call disconnects. He’s tired; from coming and just from being here, drunk in his car at BYU. He wishes he were anywhere else. He wishes he was with Arnold in Uganda, on that fire escape, even if they were just drinking gin and talking; because this once a month thing - it’s not enough.

I don’t know, he emails Arnold back, a few minutes later. Maybe we should find out?

[my-hetero-side-just-won]

So, I decided to make a mood board for the song Spooky Mormon Hell Dream! Enjoy!

[sad-showtunes]

10 day BOM Challenge Day 4: Make a Moodboard

A McPriceley moodboard, based on the song When the Day Met the Night by Panic! At the Disco

(Am I doing this right? I’ve never made a moodboard before I literally have no idea if this is good or bad)

[gemma-nye]

BOM 10 Day Challenge - Day 3:

Draw/write your favourite non-McPricely ship

ARNABA

I have too much fun making these

[dickytwister]

bom 10 day challenge — day 4

it’s moodboard time my guys

this one is based on a fic i’m currently writing but haven’t posted yet does it cOUNT

[awkward-but-nice]

BOM 10 day challenge, day 2

So I really wanted to write something for this one, so here’s a sad little Connor story i came up with. Hope you enjoy!

(warning: homophobia)

Connor McKinley is 13 years old and him and his best friend are inseparable. They have been, for the last 2 years, ever since newly transferred Steve Blade had sat next to him at lunch, even when no one else would.

Connor liked Steve. He liked him a lot. Steve always smiled at him when they met up at school and hugged him goodbye when the day was over. He also didn’t think Connor was weird for liking pink, and he thought it was cool that he was a boy who knew how to dance. 

Recently though, Connor has started to notice that things have been different. Not in a bad way, just different. Like how he feels like he’s going to melt, every time Steve smiles at him. Or how his heart skips a beat when Steve takes his hand. Or how he can’t help but smile, whenever he thinks about him.

Connor thinks he might be in love with him. Yes, he’s sure of it.

He tells Steve about his feelings the next day, and he’s nervous and scared, but Steve just smiles and takes his hand, before telling him that he feels the same way. And then he kisses him, and Connor is so happy he can barely stand it.

His sudden happiness doesn’t go unnoticed in his family, and his sisters are relentless about it.

“Connor is in loooove!” Erin teases at the dinner table, “it’s obvious, look at how he’s blushing,” she adds, and Lilian and Julie struggle to hold back their giggles.

Their mother gives him a curious look. “Is that true?” she asks, and he blushes even more, and looks down at the plate in front of him.

“I think so” he says, and he knows he should leave it there. But Connor feels brave, and he asks, “can two boys love each other?”

He wants to take the words back as soon as they leave his mouth. Everyone has gone quiet, and the room suddenly feels cold. He knows from the look on his parents that he’s made a mistake.

The rest of the night is a blur. His father gives him a long lecture about how his feelings are unnatural and wrong, and his mother hugs him and tells him that this is just a challenge from heavenly father, and he needs to overcome it. They will ask their bishop to help him through it, she tells him. Connor feels confused and scared, and he doesn’t know what to do.

He avoids Steve the next day.

Connor doesn’t want to cut ties with Steve. But bishop Morrison tells him that that’s what he needs to do if he wants to get rid of those feelings. Turn it off, he says. So he does.

He walks up to Steve and tells him they can’t see each other anymore. That what happened between them was a mistake, and it should never have happened. And gosh, it hurts. The look on Steve’s face breaks Connor’s heart and all he wants is to apologize and tell him he didn’t mean it. But he knows he can’t. Turn it off, he reminds himself, before he walks away.

He doesn’t talk to Steve Blade anymore.

Connor spends the rest of his school years alone. He doesn’t mind it, truly. There’s less distractions that way. He’ll focus on doing well in school, so he can get into college. And when he’s 19, he will serve his mission. And when he returns home, he will meet a nice Mormon girl he can marry. And then maybe, he will be able to look his parents in the eyes again.

[broadway-honey]

By Your Side

BOM 10 DAY CHALLENGE - DAY 1

Line Prompt - “Let it burn.”

——————————————————————

He’s been staring at the envelope in his hand for what feels like a lifetime; in reality, it’s only been a few measly minutes. The edges are worn and the top left corner has begun to curl from all his anxious fidgeting. Postal service in Uganda has really done a number on the small package that accompanied the letter. Sitting alone in his room, Connor stares at the cursive of his name; those perfect loops forever etched into his brain. Collecting a deep breath, he turns the envelope over and finds that there’s no return address to be seen. He scoffs, tearing off the tab and pulling out the letter nestled inside. The envelope drops to the floor as he opens the letter, eyes scanning the words briefly. The words consume him as he reads them over and over again, sucking him deeper into a world of numbness; he doesn’t even hear the knocking on the door that has now turned into obnoxious banging.

Whoever it is at the door barges in, stopping dead in their tracks when they see Connor hunched over and the way the letter shakes in his hands. Soft little sobs fill the silence; the letter slips from his fingers and drifts delicately to the floor. Connor covers his face, completely collapsing in on himself. There are arms encircling him in an instant, his head cradled delicately as he sobs into a strong chest. “Con, talk to me...” A soothing voice whispers, fingers gently stroking his hair. It grounds him, that voice so familiar and warm, those fingers that know exactly how to touch to ease his mind. Connor sniffles, wiping the tears from his face before he looks up and is greeted by the sight of his boyfriend looking down at him with a concerned frown.

“They did it... they actually fucking did it, Kev. They chose the church over me,” he says, barely holding back another sob. “I’m their only child! A-and I wasn’t good enough as is for them to... to want me!” Kevin’s heart breaks as he watches the pain morph on Connor’s face, in his eyes. He holds his partner tight, silently vowing to never let him feel this way ever again. Connor cries, it’s ugly and messy and he feels like he’s at his lowest point.

“I-I know it’s not much, that it may not even help, but...” Kevin leans down as he wipes away fresh tears and presses a gentle kiss to Connor’s forehead, “they do not deserve to have such a wonderful person as their son... you deserve better than their conditional love. I can’t promise that it’ll ever stop hurting, but, I will be there for you every time it gets hard.” It doesn’t feel like enough to offer, but it’s all Kevin has. Connor smiles sadly at him, presses their foreheads together as he strokes Kevin’s cheek.

“They, um...” Connor takes a moment to collect himself, taking a deep and shaky breath as he looks in Kevin’s eyes. “They said they’ve sent me all my important documents, packed up the rest of my things b-but... they had the nerve to send me a family photo and...” he trails off as he turns around, picking up the envelope and shaking out the other contents, “a plane ticket. As if seeing that fucking picture would suddenly make me not gay and the perfect child they want!” Connor picks up the ticket, staring at the letters and numbers with disgust, “I wish I could just burn it... this and everything else from that awful envelope...”

“We could,” Kevin says without a single thought even processing in his mind. Connor’s eyes snap to him immediately and Kevin freezes, swallowing a little. “Th-the villagers are having a campfire type thing t-to spend time with us...” He explains, already seeing the gears in Connor’s head turning. Knowing there’s no point in trying to talk him out of whatever plan he’s cooked up, Kevin just drags Connor back into his arms and holds him.

They go to the village campfire, Connor can feel the weight of the envelope and all it’s contents against his thigh. Kevin squeezes his hand tightly, shooting him a comforting smile. Connor nods, watching as everyone talks in little groups a safe distance from the flames. He walks over to the fire, Kevin following closely behind and watching as Connor methodically tosses each page of the letter into the flames, followed by the envelope.

They stand together, Kevin placing a delicate hand on the small of Connor’s back as they watch the paper become swallowed by the flames. Connor’s hands shake as he looks down at the ticket and photograph; he closes his eyes tight and tosses the ticket, feeling the heat of the flame against his body grow warmer for a moment. Kevin covers his hand gently, coaxing the photo out of his fingers. He presses a quick kiss to Connor’s temple and carefully tears it, handing back the piece without child Connor in it.

“Let it burn, love...” he whispers softly. Without any hesitation, Connor tosses the ruined picture into the fire and watches as his parents’ faces shrivel, turning to ash. At once, a burden feels like it’s been lifted off his shoulders and Connor’s lips tick up into a small smile. He looks back at Kevin, watching him slip the other piece of the photo into his shirt pocket. “Right where you belong... with my heart,” Kevin says with such an earnest smile that Connor can’t even bring himself to laugh at how cheesy it is. He pulls his boyfriend in for a sweet kiss, and let’s himself forget about all the trivial things in his life. Connor just enjoys the moment; he’s finally found the beginnings of his real family.

[likealightsw1tch]

BOM 10 Day Challenge - Day 10!

WRITE A LETTER FROM KEVIN TO CONNOR ON THE 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF LEAVING UGANDA. 

Dear Connor,

It’s hard to believe it’s been 10 years today since we left Uganda. I guess now we’ll never forget that date. 

I remember it so vividly, watching the red dirt fade into a distant spot on the landscape from the airplane window. I was holding your hand that day. You knew I was scared of flying, and even more scared of the unknown world we were flying back into, and you didn’t let go the entire time. That’s probably the memory that stands out clearest from that day. Among all the tearful goodbyes and sweaty hugs, I like to remember your hand in mine; the one constant in a world that was shifting under my feet. The one thing I didn’t have to let go of. 

I’m not the same person you met at nineteen. 

I can practically hear your voice as I write that. “Thank God,” you would say, and you’d smile that cheeky little smile of yours. But I would see right through it, just like you saw right through the person I was pretending to be back then. I’ll never forget how you showed me kindness during my darkest night. I don’t think you know how much you saved me.  A perfect stranger. Then a friend. It’s hard to pinpoint where exactly it blossomed into something else, something more, but I take great pleasure in recounting each moment where I felt something shift. 

The moment our socks brushed under the table at breakfast.

The night you stayed up with me while I was sick and crying and missing my mom. 

The first time you held my hand by the river. 

The first time you kissed me in the safe haven of our midnight living room. 

We built a life in Uganda. We became men there. We fell in love. We built a foundation there for the rest of our lives. And it was only just the beginning. 

After our mission, you took me by the hand and you pulled me outside of my comfort zone. You ran with me to the horizon and kept running, showing me the ends of the earth, teaching me to live fully, to take chances and be adventurous and be happy. We made a new home together in New York City, and we had the immense pleasure of watching each other grow.

The first night in our apartment, we didn’t make it to IKEA before they closed. We had to sleep on a blanket we threw across the hard, wooden floorboards, ignoring the scuffle of what we would soon discover was mice in the walls and the blare of car horns outside our window. We had the best sex of our young lives that night. Drunk off the rush of freedom and adrenaline and loving you. To this day, it is one of my fondest memories. 

When you read this letter, it will be from the other side of a thin, white wall where I can’t see you, because wedding planning has turned you into quite the traditionalist. Naba will probably be handing you tissues and yelling at you not to get tear tracks all over your clean, white tux. You should listen to her. It was expensive. 

But just know that on the other side, I can’t wait to see you again. It doesn’t matter that I woke up next to you this morning or that we just had breakfast together a few hours ago, because today is proof that I will never get tired of seeing your face. In a matter of minutes, you will meet me at the back of the church, you will hold my hand the same way you did on that plane ride home from Uganda all those years ago, and you will make me the luckiest man in the world as we walk down the aisle. Together. 

I can’t say with sincerity that today is the beginning of our forever. 

You’ve been mine for eleven years, six months, and fourteen days, and I knew then as much as I know today that you were it, Connor. Our forever has already begun. It started the day I met you. 

The vows we are about to take won’t be hard to adhere to, because they are the same we’ve lived by all this time. We’ve been sick, we’ve been healthy. We’ve been rich, and God only knows we’ve been poor. You’ve protected me and defended me, and I will always fight to do the same for you. You are my family, Connor McKinley. I wouldn’t change a single minute of our story. And I can’t wait to keep writing it. 

For as long as we both shall live. 

-Kevin

A knock on the door pulled Kevin away from the mirror where he was anxiously adjusting his bowtie for the hundredth time in several minutes. 

“Arnold, I told you I would be out in a minute, I just need--”

The door pushed open behind him and a familiar mop of red hair appeared over his shoulder in the reflection, his eyes red and swollen. 

“Screw tradition,” Connor whispered, and as soon as Kevin spun around, he was in his arms. 

[badfanartdotcom]

BOM 10 DAY CHALLENGE Day 4: Moodboards

Song: Two by Two

Ship: Elder Zelder x Elder Schrader

Character: Mickey?

Fic: Coffee Shop AU

[wherepoetswentodie]

BOM 10 Day Challenge - Day 5!

Write about a time the Mormon boys found out about Kevin/Connor

This is the stupidest thing that I have ever written in my life

When Elder Neeley had called a house meeting, everyone assumed that he had finally found his sense of community spirit and had done it on Elder McKinley’s behalf. It was only when the Elders arrived in the living room and Elder McKinley himself had no idea what was going on that they realised that he had not done it out of the goodness of his heart, but because he was plotting something.

Elder Neeley was grinning like a maniac when he finally joined them in the living room, putting everyone on edge - but the district leader most of all. He had finally gotten the district into some form of order after the excommunication fiasco and he had a nasty feeling that Neely was about to ruin all his hard work.

“What’s going on?” Elder McKinley demanded, his lack of sleep not at all helping the irritation he usually felt whenever someone did something without consulting him about it first (not that he was a control freak, or anything). “If we’re having a house meeting we can’t start yet. We’re missing Elder Price and Elder Cunningham,”

“We’re missing them on purpose,” Elder Neeley said.

“Excuse me?” Elder McKinley asked, “We’re doing no such thing! They are a part of this mission too, you know!”

Elder Neeley rolled his eyes. It was no secret that he wasn’t the biggest fan of the district leader. He himself had been up for district leader of District 9, but Elder McKinley had been the better missionary by a small margin and Neeley had never quite gotten over it.

“No, here’s the thing,” Neeley said, “Price has been smiling, and that’s not normal. Somethings going on,” 

At once, Elder McKinley looked over at his mission companion, the two of them communicating through only the slight widening of their eyes and barely-there head movements that went unnoticed by the rest of the room. Elder Church stared over at Neeley, looking as though he had just been presented with a quite confusing math problem.

“Is he not just...happy?” Church asked.

Neeley tutted, “Kevin Price doesn’t do happy and we all know that for a fact,”

No one could really argue with this, because all of them had been on the receiving end of Elder Price’s glares at one point or another, and it never made anyone feel good about themselves. Elder Zelder scratched his head a little and looked over at Neeley, half intrigued by the reason for Elder Price’s apparent new found lust for life and half worried that Neeley had finally cracked.

“Maybe he’s found God again,” Zelder suggested.

Elder McKinley tutted and rolled his eyes, “I’m almost certain he hasn’t,” 

“No, I know why,” Elder Neeley, “It’s obvious!”

Elder Thomas could feel the anxiety radiating off Elder McKinley and was wondering if there was a way to murder Neeley before he outed them before they were ready.

“I don’t think you know at all,” Elder Thomas said quickly.

“He and Cunningham are fucking!”

This pronouncement was met with both silence and confusion. Elder Davis looked over at his mission companion, head cocked to the side slightly as he tried to work out if Neeley was finally having the breakdown that he’d been anticipating he’d have soon. Schrader snorted and then burst into laughter, very quickly excusing himself to go and have a laughing fit in the kitchen. Elder McKinley, on the other hand, was not sure if he should slap Neely for suggesting such a thing, or hug him for being so far away from the truth.

“Elder, they’re both straight,” Elder Michaels said eventually, “and Cunningham has a girlfriend,”

“She’s a beard!” Neely exclaimed, “I’m telling you now, they’re fucking! They’re so close. I saw them holding hands the other day!”

“That doesn’t mean they’re fucking you weirdo!” Elder Zelder exclaimed, “We all know Cunningham is clingy!”

“Deep down, you all know that I’m right!”

Church snorted and glanced over at McKinley, “Believe me, we don’t,”

If Elder Price or Elder Cunningham were ever told that Elder Neeley was quite convinced they were friends with benefits, they never mentioned anything. The two of them carried on as normal; snuggling together on the sofa when they were having a movie night, sharing inside jokes that no one else could ever begin to understand and leaning against each other whenever they could. Whenever either of them showed the slightest bit of affection to each other - even if they were just stood in the same room - Neeley would stare pointedly at someone in the hopes that they would finally give into his cracked up theory that they were secretly gay for each other (but no one ever did).

Eventually, Elder Price realised that something was wrong. The missionaries were all sat in the living room one Saturday night, just enjoying eachothers company (or they had been enjoying eachothers company before it ended up with an almost but not quite punch up).

Elder Price had been lying with his head in Elder Cunningham’s lap. It was such a common occurrence that no one paid them much attention (and, in turn, no one paid much attention to the fact that Elder Price and Elder McKinley were actually holding hands in a not so subtle way). For the whole night, Elder Neeley had been sat opposite them, glowering at them as though they had been doing something particularly offensive.

And, much to his credit, Elder Price had managed to ignore him (mainly thanks to Elder McKinley’s hand gently squeezing his own), until he finally reached the end of his admittedly short tether. Out of nowhere, and making both Elder Cunningham and Elder McKinley jump, he jumped to his feet, drawing himself up to his full height and setting his face into his meanest of scowls.

“What the Hell is your problem, Neeley?”

Elder Neeley jumped to his feet, and Price was quite relieved to see that he was the tallest of the two. He folded his arms and cocked his head to the side.

“Well?” he asked, “Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been glaring at me and Arnold all night as if we’ve upset you?”

“I just think it’s fair if you tell your Mission Brothers what you’re up to,” Elder Neeley said casually, “Don’t you agree?”

Elder Price frowned at him, “What? What do you mean ‘What we’re up to’?”

“In your bedroom!”

Elder Cunningham sat up, a tiny frown on his face, “Uh...talking about Star Wars, usually. Or - Or sometimes Kevin likes to talk about his deepest fears at 3 in the-”

“Thank-you, Arnold!” Elder Price interrupted, “You don’t have to - You don’t have to tell everyone about that...”

Neeley scoffed, “We all know you’re friends with benefits!”

The moment Elder Price drew his fist back, presumably to throw a punch, Elder Church was on him. He grabbed his wrist and forced his arm down whilst dragging him away from Elder Neeley who looked quite pleased with himself.

“And that is what we’re not gonna do,” Elder Church said, still gripping onto Elder Price’s wrist, “No punching. It doesn’t help anyone,”

“Hit a sore spot, Price?” Elder Neeley asked smugly.

“No. I just don’t like people prying into my personal life!” Elder Price yelled.

“OKAY,” Elder McKinley yelled, louder than even Elder Price and in full District Leader mode, “Elder Neeley, shut up. Elder Price. My office. Now. You too, Elder Cunningham,”

When Elder Price had stomped away and had finished slamming every door he could on the way, Elder Neeley turned to the rest of the missionaries, grinning like he had just provided them all with the greatest gift ever.

“You’re just a dick, dude,” was all Elder Thomas had to say on the situation.

~~~~

After the not-so-relaxing-Saturday-evening, Neeely didn’t mention Elder Price and Elder Cunningham’s ‘relationship’ and Elder Price had finally managed to stop glaring at Elder Neeley everytime he walked into a room (though it was assumed that whatever did actually happen behind his and Cunninghams door involved a whole lot of talking shit about Neeley).

Elder Cunningham had even taken it upon himself to explain to Nabulungi that Neeley thought he and Elder Price were much closer than anyone thought, and luckily found it quite hilarious. The fact that Nabulungi could not stop laughing at the very notion of her boyfriend and his best friend secretly getting it on seemed to prove to the rest of the Elder’s that it was a big heap of bullshit. But Elder Neeley was still convinced that he could see what the rest of them could not, and (not so) secretly couldn’t wait for the moment that he could prove them all right.

And he was quite convinced that that day was finally upon them when he walked by their shared room and could hear rather peculiar noises from inside. Squealing a little, Neely raced downstairs and gathered together as many Elders as he could find. When neither Elder Cunningham nor Elder Price were anywhere to be seen, he was convinced. He had been right all along and he couldn’t wait to rub it in everyone's faces.

“They are in there right now! Doing it!” Neely hissed, pointing up the stairs, “Price and Cunningham! Right now!”

Elder Thomas and Elder Church exchanged a quick look that went completely unnoticed by everyone else.

“I don’t think so,” Elder Church said slowly, “I don’t think that they’re doing-”

“I heard them,” Elder Neely exclaimed, “I swear to god! Come with me!”

Elder Thomas wnated to point out that listening to their friends having sex was beyond a little weird, but the rest of the Elders, clearly intrigued by the whole thing, started to make their way up the stairs, giggling as they went. Elder Thomas groaned a litte and leaned into his boyfriend, trying his best to not think about the repercussions of this.

“Connor is going to lose his shit,” he whispered.

Elder Church sighed, “and Kevin is going to commit a felony...”

Upstairs, Elder Price was far too distracted by his boyfriend to notice anything that was happening inside the room, never mind what was happening outside. He moaned a little, completely unaware of the slight argument that was taking place outside the bedroom door.

“See?” Elder Neely hissed at the assembled Elders, “They are doing the deed!”

Elder Zelder grimaced slightly, “Right, you’ve made your point, but can we go now? It’s making me really uncomfortable! I don’t want to think about them doing the deed!”

“Can we please stop calling it ‘the deed’?” Elder Michaels asked with a shudder, “it’s making me never want to do it,”

“Cute that you think anyone would ever want to do it with you,” Elder Schrader said lightly.

“Shut up,” Michaels snapped.

“Oooh, are we having a secret meeting? What’s going on here?”

All the Elder’s - with the exception of Church and Thomas who were slowly starting to see the comedic side of this whole thing - froze at the sound of Elder Cunningham’s voice and slowly turned around to face him. He was stood at the top of the stairs, completely unaware that he had just turned their world upside down for the second time.

“How are you there?” Elder Neeley asked weakly.

“I - I walked here?” Cunningham said.

Elder Schrader shook his head, “No, you should be in there,” he pointed at the bedroom door, “With Price!”

Elder Cunningham blinked at them, “Um, no, I shouldn’t be...I...I always go to Nabulungis on a Thursday,”

“So who’s in there with Price?” Elder Zelder asked.

Elder Cunningham gasped and pushed through the crowd, planting himself in front of the door, “No one! He’s in there with no one! In fact, I don’t think he’s in there! No, I know he isn’t in there! He, uh, he was at - he was at Ghali’s!”

“Oh, fuck this,” Elder Neeley groaned, shoving Elder Cunningham out of the way and bursting into the room, “Elder Price, who on Earth are you - oh my god,”

Elder McKinley screamed and rolled off of Price, grabbing the bedsheet and covering himself in it. Elder Price sat up and turned to glare at Neeley who had gone bright red and looked like he was possibly about to faint.

“You absolute fucker!” Price yelled, jumping to his feet and, yet again, drawing his fist back, “Why the fuck are you so obsessed with me and my life?”

Elder Neelye could not speak or move, and neither could the rest of the Elder’s who were all staring at the floor as though they had been the ones caught in the act. Only Elder Church and Elder Thomas seemed to find the situation funny; they were stood at the back of the crowd with tears of silent laughter streaming down their faces as they clung onto each other for support. Even Elder Cunningham couldn’t seem to bring himself to look at his best friend at that moment.

Elder Price, blissfully unaware of everything, scoffed at Elder Neely.

“And now you can’t even say anything!” he snapped.

Finally, Elder McKinley found it in himself to snap out of his embarrassment to remind his boyfriend of a very important fact: 

“Kevin! You’re naked! Don’t punch him!”

[phoenixexho]

It may have taken me 5 days but i finished my day 1 fic for the BoM challenge I hope you enjoy

[elderxprice]

There’s a trampoline in the middle of a papaya farm. Kevin has no idea how Arnold found it, but he did, and now the two of them are jumping on it - higher; higher.

He needs this. They both do. Life in Uganda is hard; harder than he thought it would be, and even harder now that they have no support. What money they have left is quickly dwindling, and the District is down to posho, beans, and what fruit they can scavenge from the landscape. Kevin has had to make two new notches on his belt, and Elder Cunningham can almost squeeze into Elder Neeley’s shirts.

Everyone is hungry. Everyone is tired. Everyone is homesick. Which is why he and Arnold are here, jumping their problems into oblivion, fingers sticky with Papaya and sweat. It is the happiest Kevin has felt since he’s been here, and while he wishes Arnold had found this place sooner, he is just happy Arnold found it at all.

“Hey,” he says, after landing a back-flip; “– thanks, pal.”

Their hands come together and they continue to jump until Arnold fumbles his landing and they fall to the mat in fits.  Kevin feels like a kid, again. 

He feels nineteen, for the first time in his life.