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hlcreators · 4 years

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AUTHOR REC: creamcoffeelou / @2ofusmp4

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last blues for bloody knuckles (34k)

“Hi, love,” A too-familiar voice greeted him from the other side of the door. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips that he brought between two fingers as his eyes raked over Louis. All Louis could do was stare, wide-eyed at the alpha that he’d left behind so many years ago. “Harry?” His voice felt far away, like it wasn’t him that was speaking. On the other side of the door stood the one man he never thought he’d see again, and maybe the only man he never wanted to see again. A few steps behind him stood Liam and someone else he didn’t recognize, with guns tucked into their front pockets. “I need you to come with me.”

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

Adore You (23k)

When they’d first come into this lifestyle, the being in their roles in their day to day lives, Louis had struggled with it. He’d found it hard to distinguish between what Harry was doing because he thought he had to, with Louis as his dominant, and what he wanted to do just because of them being partners.

Being ‘twenty-four-seven’ in the traditional sense wasn’t exactly realistic in their life, no matter how much they tried to make it work. They could do small things within their power dynamic, they could try their best to keep it going, but more or less, it wasn’t a constant thing. Harry called it submission with weekends and bank holidays, and it worked for them.

As different as it was from what he expected, no matter what, in the end, it worked for them – and that was all that mattered.

“Can I… take care of you?” Harry had asked, his eyes looking everywhere but at Louis. Louis had just turned twenty-three, they’d been exploring things, doing new things for years, and Harry still managed to surprise him. “Like… Just do things for you like you take such good care of me.”

OR: A canon-compliant fic where Harry wants nothing more than to take care of Louis.

Running In The Shadows (43k)

Harry had a plan for his life. Work his dream job, raise his family, and settle down one day. He thrived in the ordinary. But when tragedy strikes, he has to see exactly how far hes willing to go to help the person he cares for most. Louis was never a part of that plan.

technicolor (81k)

When the small town of Twin Lakes begins experiencing a string of serial murders, a team of detectives is called in to help. Louis is the head of the team and meets a hard-headed psychic who everyone else seems to believe is the one who will solve the case. Louis isn't so sure.

OR The slow-burn, hate-to-love, crime au where Harry is a psychic, Louis is a detective, and the world is against them.

Still Standing Still (44k)

Louis has long since been following the same schedule, the same program, the same everything. He works hard towards his goals and gives everything to those that mean the most to him. Harry was never a part of the plan, but Louis finds he loves unplanned changes.

Earned It (5.4k)

There’s something so uniquely captivating to being on stage - to being the center of attention. Louis has always craved it, always craved the feeling of being desired by all only to have his own pick at the end of the night. He knows people come to see him specifically - has been told time and time again - and maybe that’s why he’s so in love with what he does. He knows he’s wanted and he loves being able to manipulate the attention of the men and women sitting in the crowd around him.

Break Me Dow, Build Me Up (16k)

America, as it’s been told, is the world of riches. Men and women alike can come to the land of the free and achieve the American dream, regardless of their background. He wanted nothing more than to create a better life for his sisters, for himself, and perhaps for his future. Harry Styles was never a part of the plan.

[or: Louis moves his family to America to try and find a better life. Harry finds him instead.]

Just A Whisper (11k)

Strange things have happened around the castle since Louis was young. No one has ever been able to explain them and they've long since gone ignored. As the hauntings become more frequent, Louis finally reaches his last straw and calls a professional to help him.

Ready To Run (11k)

After being left at the alter by his boyfriend of five years, Louis goes on a vacation to try and clear his head and fill the empty spaces in his heart. On the way, he meets a new group of life-long friends, and maybe a little more than that.

Just To Feel (4.1k)

Reason #17: Your car's already at their place and you're too lazy to move it.

When he wakes up, his back hurts, his head is pounding, and his mouth is extremely dry. There’s too much light around him and he doesn’t remember falling asleep at all the night before, let alone getting home. But as soon as he opens his eyes, he realizes very quickly that he’s not home.

He’s managed to fall asleep on the floor of Harry Style’s flat.

The Brightest Star Shines Through The Dark (16k)

Harry and Louis build their life together from the beginning - but even losing everything can't tear them apart.

What A Feeling (2.9k)

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.” Louis says with a slightly forced laugh. “Yeah, cause there’s nothin’ to tell!” Liam replies with a grin, getting a cackle from Niall, and making Louis’ face flame. He can feel Harry’s soft chuckle, just because their bodies are touching. “Like you have room to talk, mate.” He bites back, but all three of them are still laughing. He really needs to get laid.

Across The Lines (28k)

With a camera in hand, Louis sets off on the road trip of his life to explore the most famous haunted houses of the UK. Things don't exactly go to plan.

End Game (54k)

Harry styles is the most feared man in London, notorious for always getting everything he wants. All of that changes when Louis comes around and opens his eyes to a new, beautiful side of the world.

Beneath These Sparkling Lights (Forever you’re mine) (5.1k)

"After years of being called a couple teasingly by both our families and friends alike, I know it was nerve wracking for the both of us when it finally actually happened. But for our entire lives we’ve always been HarryandLouis, never apart, whether we called ourselves best friends or best friends and fiancés or now best friends and husbands.” Harry’s smile is so gorgeous that Louis feels a little shake in his knees, “Through everything, the good, the sometimes weird, and the bad, I’m so glad it was you at my side. I know life is ugly sometimes, but you’re the beauty in the fight that is life, for me. My rose to my dagger."

Last Day Alive (42k)

Harry Styles was born to the leader of the Following - the organization that keeps their world peaceful and just. Without the Following, the world would only return to the ways of the Old Times and all of them would come to an untimely end. Or, so he thought, until he meets Louis, the leader of the Rebellion.

Gentle Autumn Rain (57k)

Louis Tomlinson moved to London with a big heart and a big dream. Harry Styles moved to London, fresh out of the police academy, with the hopes of helping as many people as he could in his eyes. When a deranged alpha forces their paths to cross, their ideas of what is meant to be will never be the same.

Down the Field (9k)

Louis, a pro football player of Chelsea, is forced to retire after a severe injury to his foot. After he recovers and is told the news that he'll never play professionally again, he decides to go coach at his old secondary school. Harry, the health teacher, loves to let him know how big of a fan he is.

I Promise (3.5k)

Harry has a promise to keep and a pair of arms to go home to.

[Loosely based on the drowning scene from Dunkirk's trailer. ]

I Chose You (13k)

When he wakes up, the room is much brighter than when he’d fallen asleep. He has to blink the sleep from his eyes and eventually he just tosses an arm over his face to try and ignore the brightness, but then he realizes that the bed has a decent sized dent in it that forms perfectly to his body and he’s comfortable. It’s – weird. He can’t remember leaving the blinds open, and it wouldn’t have made much sense for Zayn to have opened them, either, but he doesn’t think about it. Maybe he just hadn’t realized that he’d had such a nice bed when he’d fallen asleep.

After a moment, he groans and takes his arm away from his eyes and – wait. This is – this is not his hotel room. This is a bedroom.

[Or: Louis wakes up in another life.]

As We Are (48k)

Louis doesn't think much when he's asked to meet up with the alpha of the pack two hours from his own - he figures it's business as usual. But Harry Styles is anything but usual.

Written In The Stars (71k)

It was so different - the complete opposite of everything Louis had ever expected about finally being placed into the real world. Zayn defied every single thing he'd ever been told about vampires, about how he was supposed to be treated. This was nothing like what he'd expected.

[or: Zayn's the third oldest vampire in the world and found himself searching out the company of a human, so he took Louis as his keep. His maker Harry doesn't approve.]

Running (28k)

Louis was never ashamed of who he was - never had been never would be. But he never really was himself.

In The Heat of The Moment (36k)

The first thing that came to Zayn’s mind when he read Liam Payne’s file was that he was certainly, definitely going to die before he was thirty. The word they used in The Office for such a case was reckless; reckless meant that, perhaps, the person wasn’t at fault, but the universe and said person’s energy didn’t happen to match. That made terrible things happen to that person.

Liam Payne was a classic case of recklessness.

[or: A modern times AU where Zayn is a guardian angel and he's been sent down to protect the most reckless human he's ever met.]

#writer appreciation week #hljournal #1dsource #fics #author rec

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spicykoreantatertots · 4 years

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The Dive Bar and an Old Fashioned (or Five)

Pairing: CEO!Taehyung x Bartender!Jungkook (briefly ft. Beomgyu of TXT)

Word Count: 5k

Genres: Non-Idol AU

Warnings: Misunderstandings and a trip to the hospital (but everyone is okay).

A/N: I’m so happy I got the opportunity to write this fic in honor of one of @bangtan-headquarters‘ editors, @rkivepacks!! This is a very well deserved gift and I apologize for the delay on getting this out. I hope you can enjoy this! Also shout out to @guktro for the stunning banner! ~~~~~~~ After signing the lease on a new warehouse down town, Taehyung decides to stop by a nearby dive bar for a quick drink to celebrate the further expansion of his company.

Taehyung pulls on the heavy door and quickly steps in. He starts to pull off his dark Armani jacket, but he quickly realizes that there is no one there to take it from him. He shrugs it back on and walks toward the bar.

The dim lighting makes it hard to tell which of the bar stools is the least dirty and he wonders if that’s intentional. The bar top itself is surprisingly not sticky. While waiting on the bartender to make an appearance, Taehyung scans the other patrons.

Several large men with oil-stained hands sit around a table, beers piling up quickly in the middle. A couple of older men sitting at the other end of the bar sipping on whiskeys. There’s a few people huddled around a game of cards in the back corner booth. Quite a few people considering it’s just after 5pm on a weeknight.

“I’ll be right with you.” The bartender nods in Taehyung’s direction, appearing from behind a swinging door carrying a large tray of nachos. He takes it over to the table of large men and clears away the empty beer bottles.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when he approaches. Taehyung looks up to ask for his usual, but his breath catches. From a distance, he didn’t realize how beautiful the bartender is.

“Uh, just, uh, whatever’s on special.” Taehyung chokes out and, to his dismay, the bartender flashes a half smile. He quickly looks down at his phone to try and catch his breath. He scrolls through a few work emails and responds to a text from his mom, something he’d been putting off.

The bartender sets down an Old Fashioned in front of Taehyung and heads back into the kitchen. Taehyung sets his phone down and lifts the glass a few inches, inspecting its contents.

He’s used to drinking cocktails made with the finest spirits, but he can’t imagine that this bar has anything higher quality than Jim Beam. There’s a thick slice of an orange and two cherries floating alongside the ice cubes. He’s not quite sure what to make of it, but he takes a sip anyway.

The cheap bourbon burns on its way down, but there’s a sweet aftertaste that follows. The bartender definitely put too much sugar in, but the sweetness soothes his throat. Taehyung gulps down the drink, not wanting to offend the handsome bartender, but also not wanting to savor the taste of it.

“Did you like it?” The bartender seems to have appeared out of nowhere, his dark eyes wide and hopeful. Taehyung scans his beautiful features, a face he refuses to disappoint.

“It was actually really really good!” Taehyung overenthuses. He picks up the glass and shakes the ice around.

“Great I’ll make you another!” The bartender spins on his heels and grabs a new glass.

“No I-” Taehyung stops himself, accepting his defeat. “That’d be great... what’s your name, Mr. Bartender?” He questions.

“Jungkook.” The bartender turns back around and sets a fresh drink in front Taehyung. “And you are?”

“I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” Taehyung tries to smile behind another sip of cheap bourbon. It doesn’t burn as much when he’s got two doe eyes trained on him.

The third doesn’t burn quite as much either.

The fourth doesn’t burn at all.

The fifth... well Taehyung can barely remember the fifth drink of the night.

~~~~~~~

A loud and unfamiliar ringing sound wakes Taehyung. When he opens his eyes, he can see sunlight pouring in, and he knows he’s late for work. He pulls back the sheets and rushes to find the source of the ringing.

He follows the sound through his large penthouse and finds himself in a room he very rarely visits: the utility room. Hanging on the wall near the cabinet with cleaning supplies is a corded landline phone.

Who even has landlines anymore?

“Hello?” Taehyung picks up the phone, fiddling with the tangled cord.

“You’re late.” Hye-jin is on the other end.

“Why do I have a landline phone in my million dollar penthouse?” Taehyung rubs the bridge of his nose, a headache is forming behind his brow.

“So I can call you when your phone is dead and you are late.” She responds.

“Can you rearrange some things? I need a shower and some coffee.” And some time to remember what I did last night. Taehyung yawns into the phone. He just hopes he didn’t make too much of a fool of himself in front of Jungkook.

“I can’t rearrange an international call, you know that. There’s a driver there to pick you up, we’ll have to go pick up your car later. I hope it’s still intact. I’ll have coffee for you by the time you get here.”

“Thanks.” Taehyung slams the phone into its holder. Much more satisfying than hitting the non-existent button on a glass screen.

Taehyung returns to his bedroom and plugs his phone into the wall. It charges up while he washes his face and brushes his teeth. He carefully puts on a clean suit and grabs a pair of sunglasses before he heads down to the ground floor.

In the town car, he finally opens his phone and scrolls through the barrage of emails, texts, and other notifications from his assistant Hye-jin. At the bottom of the notifications, there are a few texts from The Cute Bartender.

The headache intensifies, but Taehyung clicks on the messages to assess the damage.

TCB [2:40am]: Hey let me know when you get home safe.

TCB [2:46am]: Oh I realize your phone is probably dead. Maybe when you come back for your car you could stop back in for another drink. It was nice talking to you all night.

TCB [3:34am]: Next time I won’t make you so many Old Fashioneds.

Taehyung breaths out a small sigh of relief. It’s not as bad as he expected it to be considering he can’t really remember what happened.

~~~~~~~

Hye-jin greets Taehyung in the lobby of the office building with an iced coffee. She updates him on his meetings for the day as they walk toward the elevator, but the moment the doors close, she changes the subject.

“Tell me about Jungkook.” Hye-jin turns and cocks her eyebrow. Taehyung tries not to react.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies, taking a rather large sip of his drink.

“Did you check all your texts this morning? You texted me a dozen times last night about “the cutest guy you’ve ever seen” and I want to know more.” She emphasizes her urgency with a few taps of her foot.

“Can we do this later?” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but he knows he won’t be able to avoid her forever.

“Fine, we’ll talk when I drive you to your car later.” The elevator stops on the 47th floor instead of the 50th. Taehyung gives Hye-jin a questioning look. “I’m going to go talk to the cute girl in IT that helped me set up my new computer. I think it’s got a virus...” Hye-jin gives her best pouty face and promises to be in the conference room for the international call before stepping out of the elevator.

Taehyung takes out his phone and scrolls through his messages with Hye-jin.

Taehyung [1:32am]: i’m at th at bar dow by the new warehouse with the CUTEST BARTNDER UVE EVR SEEN

Taehyung [1:33am]: he’s CUTE AND SINGEL AND FUNNY???

Taehyung [1:46am]: he keeps making me drinks but they are not that good

Taehyung [1:53am]: his name is jungkook and i’m going to ask him out

Taehyung [1:54am]: HAHA i can’t ask him out

Taehyung [1:55am]: i asked him out

Taehyung [2:34am]: he said he would love to go out sometime and then called me a cab is that mixed signals or what

Flashes of boisterously drunk Taehyung appear in his mind as he reads through the texts. Did he really ask out Jungkook or was he being his dramatic drunken self?

~~~~~~~

The work day drags on with meetings and spreadsheets and green juice that Hye-jin swears will cure any hangover. Taehyung swears the only cure for his hangovers is a big bowl of ramen, which he orders for lunch. The soothing broth relaxes him, heals his soul much more than some watery greens could.

Lunchtime is one of the few times that Taehyung can sit in his office undisturbed. His secretary holds his calls, Hye-jin leaves him alone, and he can sit and enjoy the view from his window. The world seems so small from the 50th floor.

Today, after slurping down his ramen, he stands in front of the floor to ceiling windows and looks far off to the east. He can’t quite see the warehouse from here, but if he focuses hard enough he can imagine where it would be. He can imagine the bar down the street too.

There’s not much that Taehyung can learn about Jungkook without having his last name. He searches for the dive bar on Google, but aside from the phone number and hours of operation, there’s not a lot of information to go off of. A text pops up, interrupting his thoughts.

Hye-jin [1:17pm]: Sorry to bother you during your lunch, but I ran a background check on Jungkook. I can bring you the report if you’d like to see it.

Taehyung [1:17pm]: How did you find him, I don’t even know his last name.

Hye-jin [1:18pm]: Do you doubt my sleuthing skills?

He should have known that Hye-jin would go sleuthing sooner or later. Taehyung flips back over to the unhelpful Google search. And he thinks. Does he really want to know what that report has to say about Jungkook? His past jobs, education, relatives, his debt? And what does Jungkook know about Taehyung? Probably not a lot.

Taehyung [1:19pm]: Is there anything dangerous in his past?

Hye-jin [1:21pm]: No, there’s not. He seems pretty legit.

Taehyung [1:21pm]: Then I don’t want to see it.

Hye-jin [1:21pm]: WHAT

~~~~~~~

“Would you mind explaining to me why you don’t want to read this THOROUGH report about your new love interest?” Hye-jin interrogates Taehyung the moment he steps into her car after work.

“Can you even call him a love interest? I don’t even remember asking him out.” Taehyung points out.

“I’m just trying to protect you.” Hye-jin sighs. “You know people take advantage of wealthy men with good hearts...”

Silence falls between them in the car. Taehyung knows that she’s right. He’s been hurt many times before.

“Maybe I should... try to hide it.” He suggests.

“Hide what? Your money?” Hye-jin scoffs. “You better get rid of that Rolex and that Armani tie.”

“You think he can tell?”

“He’s a man who dates men. He can tell.” Hye-jin and Taehyung roll their eyes at each other.

Hye-jin pulls up next to Taehyung’s BMW and waits for him to get out.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t let him see that car either.” She laughs.

Taehyung gets out of her car and walks around his car once to make sure everything is just the way he left it. After finding his hubcaps intact, he unlocks his car and gets in. Hye-jin honks a couple of times as she drives away.

He flips the sun visor to look at himself in the mirror. His hair is getting long again, it’s curling at the ends. He looks pretty good for someone who got absolutely hammered last night. Looking down at his watch, he decides to shed the accessories that make him stand out from the crowd. His watch, his tie, and his Saint Laurent wallet, opting to shove a few twenties in his pocket instead.

He gets out of his car and walks down the street toward the bar he visited the night before. As he approaches the door, he can feel the nerves fluttering around in his stomach. He recalls the cheeky smile on Jungkook’s face and he cannot wait to see it again.

Once again ducking into the poorly lit bar, Taehyung heads straight for the bar.

“There he is!” Jungkook shouts from behind the bar. He begins slowly clapping as Taehyung approaches the bar and sits down on the same stool from last night. “I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung laughs, admiring the tall bartender. “I have to be honest, I’m still recovering my memories from last night.” He adds with a sigh.

“Oh no, does that mean you don’t remember stripping on the bartop?” Jungkook chuckles.

“I did WHAT?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his cheeks turn red.

“I’m kidding Tae. Calm down, calm down.” Jungkook, still laughing, places a napkin on the bar in front of Taehyung. “What can I get you?”

Taehyung, still stuck on being called Tae, gives Jungkook a puzzled look. Jungkook looks back at him with a small smile as he processes the information. But the lingering eye contact draws Taehyung in, the original question long forgotten, a new one forming to take its place.

“Listen... did I...” Taehyung pauses, finally breaking eye contact. He licks his lips and starts again. “Did I happen to ask you out last night?”

“Yeah you did.” Jungkook smiles to himself as his cheeks heat up. “You were pretty drunk though, so I wasn’t going to say anything.” He grabs a bar rag and wipes down the already clean bartop.

“You probably get hit on at work all the time.” Taehyung watches the blush on Jungkook’s face deepen and he feels his confidence level rising. “Well, I’m sober now and the offer still stands, if you’re at all interested.” Taehyung lifts an eyebrow at the bartender.

“I’d like that.” Jungkook flashes his teeth. “So, can I get you something to drink?”

“I think I’ll pass tonight. Would you like to meet for dinner on Saturday?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook works on weeknights, so he hopes that he has weekends off.

“Ahh Saturday?” Jungkook runs his fingers through his dark locks and looks off into the distance, thinking. “I can’t on Saturday. I know it’s a bit weird, but would Monday work? The bar is closed on Mondays.”

“Monday is perfect.” Taehyung replies. “I’ll text you details and see you then.” They exchange smiles and Taehyung leaves the bar.

Once he’s back in his car, he lets himself breathe. He has a date with the most beautiful bartender he’s ever seen. His eyes shine even in the darkness of the bar, what will it be like to see him in the real world?

~~~~~~~

On Saturday, alone in his apartment, Taehyung sits and tries to focus on the movie his friend Jimin recommended he watch. All he can think about, though, is a pair of doe eyes and a brilliant smile.

He tried to stay busy, but after working out, cooking lunch and dinner, and doing some online shopping, he still finds himself bored out of his mind, wishing that Jungkook had the night off.

Taehyung [7:54pm]: I can’t stop thinking about him.

Hye-jin [7:55pm]: Don’t you have a short pink haired friend you can hang out with? Or at least text him, I’m sure he’s at home alone.

Jimin [7:55pm]: I HEARD THAT

Hye-jin [7:56pm]: Did you seriously put us in a group chat??

Hye-jin [7:56pm]: I’m getting ready to go OUT LEAVE ME ALONE

Jimin [7:57pm]: Did you say he was working tonight, why don’t you just go visit him?

Taehyung [7:57pm]: I was thinking about it....

Hye-jin [7:57pm]: NO

Hye-jin [7:58pm]: DO NOT DO THAT YOU WILL LOOK SO DESPERATE

Jimin [7:58pm]: Don’t you have somewhere to be hag

Hye-jin [7:59pm]: DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT YOUR TWO GAY BEST FRIENDS IN A GROUP CHAT

Taehyung [8:00pm]: I’m going to the bar ttyl

Hye-jin [8:00pm]: NOOOOO

Jimin [8:00pm]: YESSSSSS

~~~~~~~

On a typical Saturday night, Taehyung would be in a town car on his way to a nightclub on the north side, decked out in Gucci from head to toe, ready to dance the night away. Tonight, he’s driving himself downtown, dressed in some casual clothes he normally wouldn’t wear outside his apartment.

Taehyung finds a spot to park a block away from the bar and walks the distance, nerves nibbling away at his insides. As he approaches the bar, he can tell it's quite a bit busier than it has been before. Maybe this isn’t a great idea.

Pushing away his doubts, Taehyung opens the door and walks into the now familiar bar. The place is pretty packed. Groups of loud, boisterous men huddled around tables and booths watching the game on the televisions. He approaches the bar and an unfamiliar face greets him.

“What can I get ya?” The short bartender asks. Taehyung looks around to see if he can locate Jungkook, but after scanning the room he finds nothing. The bartender clears his throat and asks again.

“Actually, is Jungkook here?” Taehyung questions.

“Are you his new friend?” The bartender scans Taehyung’s face, then shakes his head. “He’s with Beomgyu tonight.”

“Oh.” The nerves flitting around his stomach turned to stone.

This wasn’t a great idea.

~~~~~~~

Sunday was spent at Jimin’s apartment eating carbs. Switching between cursing and praising Jungkook. He’s so stunning, Taehyung was stupid to think that he was the only one Jungkook was seeing.

“I’ve been avoiding asking you this, but are you still going to go out with him tomorrow night?” Jimin questions Taehyung gently.

The two of them are sprawled out on Jimin’s broken down sofa. The leather is worn out under them, but it’s much more comfortable than the high end couch at Taehyung’s place. They are sharing a bowl of popcorn. Some drama is playing in the background of their conversation.

“I guess so. I mean it’s not like he lied about anything. It just kind of sucks.” Taehyung sulks.

“I think you should confront him about the Beom-whoever.” Jimin gets up from the couch to replenish their snacks. “What kind of name is that anyway?” He mumbles to himself.

As Jimin continues muttering to himself, Taehyung grabs his phone from the coffee table. He ignores the I told you so messages from Hye-jin and opens his conversation with The Cute Bartender. As he rereads the caring messages Jungkook sent him a few days ago, the text bubble pops up.

Taehyung sits up straight on the couch and Jimin returns with chips and pocky. The bubble pops up and disappears a few times before the message finally comes through.

TCB [4:48pm]: Hey, are we still on for tomorrow night? Let me know what sounds good for dinner.

Taehyung sets the phone back down on the table and closes his eyes. Why does he feel so much turmoil over this bartender. He barely knows him. What is so special about Jungkook? Taehyung tries his hardest to forget the curve of his cheeks... his nose... his lips.

When he opens his eyes again, his phone is not on the table, it’s in Jimin’s hands.

“What are you doing?!” Taehyung shouts, reaching for his phone. But it’s too late. The message that Jimin had been typing out was sent.

Taehyung [4:49pm]: How was your date with Beomgyu?

“Why would you do that?!” Taehyung shouts. “Now he is going to think I’m stalking him!”

“You deserve to know the truth!” Jimin shouts in return. They both watch and the typing bubble appears.

TCB [4:50pm]: What?

TCB [4:50pm]: How do you know about Beomgyu?

Taehyung doesn’t hesitate with his response.

Taehyung [4:51pm]: The other bartender told me. I went to visit you at work last night, but obviously you weren’t there.

TCB [4:51pm]: Yoongi?

TCB [4:51pm]: Listen, I promise it isn’t what it sounds like.

TCB [4:52pm]: Let me explain over dinner tomorrow night. My treat.

Taehyung and Jimin consider the offer. If he isn’t dating Beomgyu, then who is he?

Taehyung [4:52pm]: Okay.

~~~~~~~

The sushi restaurant that Jungkook picked is a little bit... quaint. Is quaint the right word? Taehyung is used to dining at sushi restaurants that have plates starting at $40, but the most expensive thing on the menu here is a $12 Drunken Sailor roll.

There are a few people eating at the bar and a few tables taken up around the restaurant. Taehyung arrived early so he could ground himself before facing Jungkook. He’s still embarrassed about the message Jimin sent. Maybe he’ll be able to explain himself....

“Hey! You’re early.” Jungkook is walking in the door. He’s wearing dark ripped jeans and a plain white t-shirt. The same thing he usually wears at work. Every part of him is shining.

“Yeah sorry.” Taehyung tries to laugh, but it comes out more as a cough. “I’ve never eaten here before, thought I’d check out the menu.” He gestures toward the menu board that’s secured to the ceiling.

“Well everything is good here. I come here at least once a week.” Jungkook smiles brightly. This is exactly why Taehyung came early. He knew he would struggle to focus on anything but Jungkook.

It’s not just his physical beauty. The way he carries himself is so warm and inviting and Taehyung wants to be close to him. Even after the awkwardness from the day before, it feels so natural to be standing there with him.

“The Drunken Sailor roll sounds interesting, but I may have to stick with the timeless classic, the California roll.” Taehyung says.

“Ah, you know I’ve been meaning to try the Drunken Sailor. It’s a new addition to the menu.” Jungkook steps forward to order and pay for the two of them. “Two California rolls and a Drunken Sailor roll. Oh and a bottle of sake.”

Jungkook confidently leads Taehyung toward the back of the restaurant to a booth. The way he slides into the seat, Taehyung can tell this is his preferred spot in the restaurant.

“So I guess, I should go ahead and address the elephant in the room.” Jungkook starts. A waiter brings two glasses of water, two empty cups, and a bottle of apple sake. Taehyung reaches for his water to sip.

“I think there was a misunderstanding. Yoongi thought you already knew about Beomgyu.” Jungkook says as he pours some of the sake into the cups, Taehyung chokes a little on his water.

“Who is Beomgyu?” Taehyung finally asks. Jungkook waits a moment, sipping the sake before responding.

“Beomgyu is my son.” Jungkook states plainly. Taehyung pauses to absorb the information, but quickly a feeling of relief washes over him.

“Did you mention him when I was wasted?” He asks.

“No, no. I don’t usually tell people I have a son until after a few dates.” Jungkook replies. It makes sense. It’s safer to protect the child’s identity. “But I like you and I didn’t want to throw our chance away because I wasn’t telling you the whole truth.”

Taehyung smiles, but he feels a twinge of guilt growing in his gut. He had been planning to hide his wealth from Jungkook, but maybe he should just be honest too.

“In the spirit of being honest, maybe I should tell you that I’m... fairly wealthy?” Taehyung’s voice fades to a whisper by the end. “I run a company.” He adds.

Jungkook cracks a smile.

“I know.” He says. “You told me all about that when you were drunk.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Oh really?” Taehyung scratches the back of his head. How embarrassing.

“To be honest, that’s another reason why I didn’t want to tell you about Beommie at first.” Jungkook shuffles in his seat. “I don’t want you to think that I’m interested in you for your money. I mean look at this place, obviously I don’t make a lot of money.”

“Hey this place is great. I’m sure the sushi is delicious.” Taehyung argues.

“Yeah, it’s just. I don’t want you to think that I’ve got a son and I’m a... gold digger.” At that, the two of them break out into laughter.

“Well when I’m sober, I try not to let many people know about my money. It changes the way people act around you.” Taehyung sighs, pouring himself some of the sake.

“It’s the same with having kids. No one is interested in dating someone who is already tied down like that.” Jungkook watches Taehyung’s face carefully for a reaction, but he just furrows his brow.

“I think kids are great.” Taehyung shares with a genuine smile.

“I’d love for you to meet Beomgyu sometime in the future. I usually wait until things are more serious than a first date to introduce him to people.” Jungkook explains and Taehyung lifts a brow.

“Not, not that there’s been a lot of people, I’ve only introduced him to one person I dated a while ago.” Jungkook tries to recover.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We both have pasts. I am kind of curious though, are you gay or bisexual? Most single gays don’t end up with children.” Taehyung questions and Jungkook shakes his head a little.

“I don’t really like to label myself. I guess back then I thought I was straight, but now?” Jungkook taps his fingers against the table, thinking. “I guess most people would label me pansexual.”

“Wow so I’m in competition with... everyone then?” Taehyung chuckles to himself and then takes a sip of the sake.

“I actually met Beomgyu’s mother in high school, we were-” Jungkook is cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Jungkook fishes the phone out of his pocket. “And this is her, sorry I have to take this.”

Jungkook scoots out of the booth and steps away from the table. Taehyung can tell by his body language that he’s worried. After just a few seconds on the phone, Jungkook returns to the table with a crease in his brow.

“Apparently Beomgyu fell and hit his head pretty hard. He’s okay, but he’s at the hospital getting checked out...” Jungkook trails off.

“Oh, okay, we can reschedule for another time.” Taehyung throws a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and exits the booth, but Jungkook pauses.

“Listen, I rode my bike here, could you possibly... give me a ride?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s no problem at all.” Taehyung motions for Jungkook to follow him and leads the way to his car at a quick pace. Jungkook seems unfazed by the shiny BMW parked down the street.

“I really appreciate this, Tae.” Jungkook smiles over at Taehyung as they buckle into their seats.

“Please don’t worry about it.” Taehyung reaches over and squeezes Jungkook’s hand before driving off toward the hospital.

~~~~~~~

“Would you like me to wait here, or I can schedule a Lyft for you?” Taehyung questions Jungkook when they arrive at the children’s hospital and he thinks about it for a moment.

“Would you like to come in? I know it’s very sudden to meet Beomgyu, but...” Jungkook squeezes Taehyung’s hand that he hadn’t yet let go of. “I’ve got a good feeling.”

The two men navigate the hospital corridors together, stopping to peer inside the window of Beomgyu’s hospital bed. The small boy, who shares many of his father’s beautiful features, is playing with his mother’s cell phone.

“Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook asks.

Taehyung nods and Jungkook enters the hospital room. Immediately Beomgyu abandons the phone and Taehyung can see him mouth something excitedly to his dad. Jungkooks sits on the foot of Beomgyu’s bed, his all black outfit stark against the clinical background.

Taehyung catches Beomgyu’s mom looking at him while she talks to Jungkook. She’s beautiful too. She stands and collects her phone from Beomgyu before exiting the room.

“I’m going for a coffee, would you like anything?” She says with a coy smile. Taehyung shakes his head and gives her a little wave.

Jungkook is still chatting with his son. Beomgyu is animatedly explaining something to him and both his and Jungkook’s eyes light up, almost a mirror image. Taehyung is grinning when Jungkook looks over at him and motions for him to enter the room.

Taehyung cautiously enters the room, but keeps his distance. He gives wide-eyed Beomgyu a wave and a slight bow.

“Hello, I’m Taehyung. You must be Beomgyu?” The boy nods. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Beomgyu smiles, but his attention is quickly grabbed by the doctor entering the room.

“Which of you is Mr. Jeon?” Jungkook promptly stands. “I’ll catch you up quickly.” Jungkook follows the doctor back into the hall to discuss Beomgyu’s status.

Taehyung crosses the room and sits on a chair near the window. Beomgyu’s eyes follow him curiously.

“Beomgyu, what kind of things do you do for fun?” Taehyung questions.

“I like to do art!” He responds.

“What’s your favorite medium to work with?” Taehyung continues.

“Medium..?” Beomgyu’s face twists with confusion.

“Ah.... Do you like to draw with crayons or do you like to paint?” Taehyung clarifies his question.

“I like to paint, but my mom thinks it’s too messy, so I mostly draw.” Beomgyu explains.

“I like to paint too. Maybe we can paint together sometime. I have an art studio in my home.” Taehyung smiles.

~~~~~~~

After the doctor gets the important information out of the way, the fact that Beomgyu will be okay and doesn’t require any treatments, Jungkook’s gaze falls back inside the hospital room. Taehyung and his son are laughing about something together. Taehyung seems like a natural.

“Dad!”

“Beomgyu!” Jungkook responds as he enters the room.

“Taehyung is so cool, he said we could do art together and he doesn’t even care if we make a mess!” Beomgyu practically falls off the hospital bed in excitement.

“Wow that sounds like fun, as long as it’s at his house.” Jungkook winks at Taehyung, who smiles and nods in return.

“Can he stay for dinner tonight?” Beomgyu asks, Taehyung’s smile growing wider.

Maybe he can stay forever... Jungkook thinks.

~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!

#taekook

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rootiebaga · 3 years

Text

nobody asked, i know, but heres my departments thus far! (with nicknames, of course)

note! i do use mods, one of them being the ultimate fashion corp mod from reddit, a mod that lets you keep your employees after you reset a run, and some other useful ones

also its under the cut because uh- long

control team! (aka the OGS! (because control team is the first department people unlock when starting a run))

morty (former employee)

-may the brave fool rest, gone, but not forgotten.

rootieee (captain)

-its, its my self insert what do i have to sa

paul

-the most boring in the facility (and the most sane one in the department,)

-just wants to do his job correctly.

-not much to say about him, really

maxim (morty’s replacement after he died, rest in piece morty, you were a brave hero, yet a little dumb after trying to fight a green dawn in the early runs i had)

-morty’s big bro, a little sad that morty died but he didn’t know all that much in the facility,

-takes his job too seriously

-usually chills in the main room alot,

shao

-an absolutely innocent baby, even if they some horrifying abnormalities, they would still think of them as cute

-just, likes being here, many friends for them!

-they also like hugs!

igoree (rip)

-the sleepy employee has come back! wowie

-still sleepy and also hungry,

-the one who doesn’t work all that much

-..”how did she.. die? did she just want to? what in the world happened there? is it because of that behaviour adjustment thing?”

“just forget about it and keep working,”

“but, paul im curious-”

“quiet.”

eden

-woooooo returning!

-one of the calmest people in the department

-probably wouldn’t even be phased by the effect [CENSORED] gives her if we had it

“hey uh, eden? i got something to tell you..”

“go on shao,”

“didn’t... something happen to you? h-how are you even-”

“hey hey, dont worry about that! just, make sure you stay safe, alright?”

information team! (aka the threeks! (named by tom, who is dead, an idiot, and couldn’t count))

tom (dead)

-an idiot

-okay moving on

ryn

-the only one with aleph gear, seriously (edit (draft edition): hes the first one with aleph gear after i got nothing there’s gear, the second being daniel)

-chill once you get to know him,

-likes protecting others with his gear, since, you know

mason

-usually anxious, he doesn’t mean to be though!

-”alright calm down.. never mind this is not the time to calm dOW-”

-probably likes ryn??

eugene

-a little bit crazy, yet kind nonetheless!

-hi

-just wants some friends, unfortunately not many people are willing to befriend her due to her kinda crazy nature

-basically someone who cares for everyone in the facility, y e e

(also whats known as a “bow kinnie” to the control team captain) /j

emma

-looks really kind until you try to talk to her, shes an asshole is what im trying to say

-likes to bite things with the sharp teeth she has, because why not

-absolute chaos

ray

-i dont know why she exists, shes just there

safety team! (aka the wind wielders (named by isabel, cause he likes flutes))

isabel

-brother of gregory

-the second innocent bean,,

-likes playing the flute whenever hes done for the day

-i accidentally gave him crumbling armour’s gift

gregory

-brother of isabel

-prefers acting over playing instruments,

-a bit more serious,

neville (prefers nelville)

-an absolutely tired employee, they just like waiting till everyone is done for the day to go home

-they’d be at home if they weren’t forced by their friend to work here

-hates everything right now

ramirez

-the joyful friend

-wanted to work here because of the people here, so many unique faces!

-likes all things unique, she usually loves trying different things that look nothing alike from the things she tried before

khanna

-the mute employee in the facility, uses notes to communicate

-another sane one, yet still kinda nervous

-a bean

training team! (aka “nobody here is fine” (named for the fact that almost everyone is very nervous, and then we got firenze))

hana

-the one thats sad most of the time

-really helpful for when it comes to working on abnormalities!

-gregory has a crush on them (why would you say tha)

sobin

-before you think of him as edgy, hes not all that edgy personality wise, he just likes the aesthetic

-hes just a really chill and friendly dude

-yes, he can see more with the e.g.o outfit hes wearing, it is pretty strange to him though

firenze

-the narcissist, he really thinks hes the king of this department

-hes wrong its actually hana thats the captain of this department

-nobody likes him

daniel

-actually used to be a clerk! the face was a little different then before but hey, thats fine

-the third pure bean

-hes a really good friend to have!

susan

-what can i say about her?

-well i mean

-shes susan

central command team! (aka where is everyone? (due to there being not many agents here))

geminiano

-the most sane one in the facility (while being the dead inside captain)

-really good when it comes to tech

-”oh sh** did anyone check on mika?”

charlotte

-the bald employee, doesn’t mind being bald, that just means she can take care of the “your bald” abnormality

-”ignore the second mouth i got on my armour, please”

-plays vibe games on roblox

mika

-absolutely. chill

-doesn’t know where he’s going most of the time

-the one that works on child of galaxy everytime

gimtteol

-really bad sight, she doesn’t mind it

-kalm

-nobody can spell her name right

arang (prefers ayang)

-you thought sobin was the edgelord huh? think again

-easily annoyed.

-also was a clerk before

john

-the newbie!

-hes trying okay?

-hes still a little nervous but thats fine!

disciplinary team! (aka f**k (also nicknamed “why do we have red” due to me choosing little red riding hooded mercenary every run where theres disciplinary))

ara

-angy

-another person that takes their job way too seriously but doesn’t mean to

-not really that rude sometimes, but most of the time she can be a bit of an asshole, probably because of something that happened in the past, nobody wants to talk about it though

-lesbian

camille

-has a slightly torn snake tongue, it makes them not able to speak, they mostly make noises like growling,

-nobody knows why their like this, they just are, but dont be afraid to talk to them if you need anything! they usually write what their trying to say

-the expert, especially at finding things, even if they cant speak

tim

-another returning employee! wooooo

-still dead inside, but feeling a little bit better!

-might be the oldest out of everyone

welfare team! (aka “sleep tight” (nobody knows why its called that)

space

-very calm, most of the time doesn’t mind anything, but still does get a little nervous at times

-nobody knows why her eyes are always closed, (ara specified that her eyes look like a galaxy that can only be opened for a couple of seconds because if she opens them for more than a few seconds they’ll start to glitch, when others see it happening, it looks like the galaxy is becoming more like an image other than a real galaxy, parts of the galaxy become misplaced and reverted back to their original place quickly repeatedly (kinda like the select thing in paint, usually in the shape of the rectangular selection though) and parts of the galaxy turn into static and back very quickly and repeatedly. we she sees it happening her vision becomes the same as how other people see the galaxy when it starts glitching, randomly shifting from original place to different place, or from static back to normal, some ominous, glitchy sounds have been heard when this is happening aswell, (i thought of this because of a small dream(?) i had when i was in a certain state of almost about to fall asleep, maybe i was napping i dont really know, it was a strange dream, i dont remember much of it which is expected, i think it was something about discord and some sort of strange thing that had a little timer on it, and after it was done the thing it was in started glitching, the background it was in and even the button that used to be the timer was glitching, i heard some sounds that were glitching a little (it looked like those screens you see when someone’s streaming something on there,) and then i woke up, yeah kinda weird,)

-like eugene, cares for everyone! especially ara, since space herself is the one who helps ara through tough times

courtney

-gets bored alot, just wants to work on the difficult abnormalities

-really snarky

johnson

-a smartass

-yet still a little friendly if they trust you

-i’ll upgrade them soon dont worry (i have upgraded them/him dont worry)

woop!

i’ll probably update this soon, but in the meantime have this, sorry for being dead lately, on both this and my sideblog

#rooty goes onto lobotomy corporation #lobotomy corp #lobotomy corporation

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lisbonsteresa · 4 years

Text

There’s Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere (Wanna Share?)

this was originally going to be a fun little holiday gift for @cachekakusu (but now it’s more of an apology for making her relive her past 🌸✨ LiTerArY tRaUmA ✨🌸). In either case, it’s essentially a longer version of our chat threads, but i tried to make it as fluffy as possible to atone for my actions

hopefully it works aflksdj

At first only a dark screen was displayed, with shuffling and whispers heard in the background. Then someone hissed “Lens cap!!” and a picture suddenly appeared of two teenagers sitting at a long table; a laptop sitting in front of the girl and bright smiles on both their faces. “Hi everyone!” the girl spoke, directing her words straight ahead at what must have been the camera lens. “Welcome back to our channel. If you don’t already know, my name’s Lyra and this is Will.” The boy next to her raised his hand in a slight wave. “And we decided we wanted to do something a little special for today’s video.” “That’s right.” the boy continued, “To celebrate reaching five thousand subscribers – and thank you so much for that, by the way –” Lyra nodded fiercely next to him, echoing his statement. “we’re going to do a little ‘Get to Know Us’ Q&A.”

“We are!” Lyra finished. “And, point of notice; this is a livestream, so we’re just going to take the questions as they come, and you’ll get to see our completely unedited reactions to them. But please keep the questions like PG-13,” she added, “because I’m pretty sure Will’s mum still watches our videos.” “Oh she definitely does.” Will confirmed. “And she and I would both appreciate everything staying mum-appropriate.” Lyra laughed “Excellent. And hi Elaine!” she looked directly at the camera with a grin and a wave, then focused her attention on the laptop screen in front of her. “Oh wow and we already have our first question: from aeronaut_txn: how long have you known each other? Hm, it really has been a while hasn’t it?” she paused, thinking, “Will and I met when we were – what, 12?” she glanced over at Will and he nodded in agreement. “Actually it’s kind of a funny story; I first met Will after he got stuck under my porch chasing his cat.” “Not Kirjava, by the way.” Will interrupted, looking only mildly embarrassed at Lyra’s last statement. “Our old cat, Moxie.”

“Of course not Kirjava,” Lyra snorted, “she barely ever leaves your side.” As if summoned by the mention of her name, the unusually large cat in question suddenly leapt up onto the table, fixing Lyra a look that would have been very judgmental were it coming from a human. Will grinned and reached up to scratch at Kirjava’s ears and the feline happily moved her attention to him, purring softly and butting her head against his hand while Lyra continued. “I’m convinced that if you could find a way to sneak her into school she’d never leave you alone.” “Says the girl who hides Pan in her backpack every other day.”

“That’s because Pan is quiet, and sneaky, and good at hiding. And besides, Kirjava’s like three times his size.” Kirjava suddenly let out a low growl and leapt across the table to bat at Lyra with her paw. “Er….no offense.” Lyra reached slowly out and Kirjava seemed to let the slight pass, letting the teen scratch under her chin. There was a sudden squeak and flash of fur as Lyra’s pine marten scrambled down from his usual perch on her shoulder and onto Kirjava’s back. “And now you’ve gone and woke him up.” Lyra huffed, but there was a smile on her face as she watched Pan and Kirjava start to chase each other around the table.

“I think if anyone’s to blame for that, it’s you.” Will laughed, gently shooing the animals off the table before they knocked something over. “Anyway, Moxie was….. let’s say she was a free spirit.” “A very nice way to say she just did whatever she wanted.” “Well yes, but she was a very good cat all the same. Although she did have a habit of running out of the house whenever she got the chance despite not being an outside cat at all. One morning a few summers ago I was helping my mum unload groceries and Moxie just sprinted out the door and was halfway across the neighbor’s yard before we even realized what was happening. I ran out to go get her, but by that point she had already sequestered herself under their back porch. Should’ve been easy to grab her, but the space was a little…..narrower than I was expecting.

“I was on my way downstairs when there was this yowling noise out of nowhere; maybe the angriest sound I’d ever heard a cat make.” Lyra looked as though she was trying very had to hold back a laugh. “And then someone was calling ‘help’ from our backyard, so I went outside to look and all I see is Will’s little Spider-Man pajama pant-covered legs sticking out from under our porch.”

At this point Lyra was laughing fully, and Will wrinkled his nose in indignation. “It should be mentioned that my mum does her shopping very early; I wouldn’t have been wearing the pajamas otherwise. And anyway, they were cool for a 12-year-old.” “Oh yes, very cool.” Lyra snickered. “Especially when I had to pull you out by your ankles and they almost fell dow-” “Lyra!” Will snapped, clapping a hand over her mouth and glaring at her. “We don’t have to mention that part on camera.”

‘Right, right, sorry” she snorted, still looking very pleased with herself as she pulled Will’s hand down and addressed the camera directly. “Anyway, the point is, we were able to get Will successfully extracted, and luckily for him, I knew the easiest way to squeeze back under and grab Moxie.” “Oh yes, we’re all very lucky that you liked acting like a feral child and digging tunnels into the mud under your back porch” Will muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sounds like someone’s still stuck on the pajama pants and forgetting the great sacrifice I made in getting that cat back.” Will let out an exasperated sigh “Not the scar-” “You mean the giant scar I still have on my arm after your cat fought me tooth and claw on the way out from under that porch? That scar?”

Will covered his face and groaned “You know I think I’d rather deal with your mum twenty times over than have you keep holding that scar over my head.” Lyra laughed at that. “You sure about that? She was steaming mad when she saw it – came running out the back door yelling about rabies and ruined clothes and ‘undignified behavior’ as if I wasn’t wearing a Mickey Mouse jumper and dungarees and, you know, twelve.” “She was pretty imposing though.” Will admitted. “She usually is.” Lyra sighed. “But you didn’t miss a beat – looked her right in the eyes and said ‘don’t worry ma’am, Moxie’s had all her shots’ and then….what was it?” Will shrugged. “Something about how she should be proud to have raised such an upstanding citizen for a daughter – which is an hilarious statement, by the way, knowing you the way I do now –” Lyra snorted and stuck her tongue back at him. “and it seemed to satisfy her.” “Oh the best way to appease my mum is definitely through compliments.” There was a slightly sour tone in Lyra’s voice, but it faded as quickly as it came. “I think that was when she decided she liked you.” “She likes me?” Will sounded shocked. “Well, not that she’d ever say as much, but I think she sees you as my most mature friend.” Lyra shrugged. “Sometimes I think she might even be a little intimidated by you. You might not know it for looking at him,” she said to the camera, “but Will can be very serious when he wants to be.” “Well I have to balance you out somehow, haven’t I?”

“Oh shut it.” Lyra rolled her eyes and knocked her shoulder against Will’s, but there was a fond smile on her face nonetheless. “Anyway we didn’t really talk much after that and Will went back to his house, but we spent the rest of the summer in one of our backyards or the other, and when school started we found out we were in the same class, and things just kind of went from there.” “And now here we are: four years later and I’m still stuck with her.” Will said through a smirk. Lyra’s smirk matched his. “Mhm, lucky you. Anyway, next question.” Her eyes moved to the laptop screen in front of her and she began to read through the options. “Ok let’s see… sky-iron-soul asked…what was your favorite film of the year?” Lyra immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, just barely stifling her laugh as she looked over at a groaning Will. “Oh I don’t know,” she began, removing her hand to rest her chin on it while she smirked at the irritated boy, “what was your favorite film this year Will?”

“Lyra, please-” “Funny thing is,” she grinned towards the camera, “Will here has fallen asleep during every film we’ve ever gone to see.” “Not every film!”

“Oh right, sorry, you did manage to stay awake for all of Cats. Would you say that’s because it was your favorite though?” Will fixed Lyra with a deadpan stare. “No, I would say that was because you kept poking me in the side every five minutes to ask me what the hell was going on, as if I would possibly have any more idea than you”.

“Right, well, in my defense…” Lyra shrugged, “Cats”.

“Actually,” a voice spoke up from somewhere off-screen, “if you pay attention, Cats does have a fairly well thought out plot that you can follow-” But the rest of the sentence was drowned out by the collective groans of the other two teens. “Roger, not the Cats debate again.” Will sighed, turning his attention to the unseen boy. “It’s bad enough you made us sit through two hours of that monstrosity.” Lyra agreed. “Must you continue to torment us with it now?” “Fine, fine,” Were Roger in front of the camera, it was easy to imagine he would be holding his hands up in in mock surrender. “I guess there’s no accounting for bad taste. But seriously Will,” he continued, seeming to pointedly ignore Lyra’s fake cough-covered ‘yeah, yours’ “The cinema’s the worst place to fall asleep. Why don’t you just nap in class like me and Billy?” “Listen it’s not like I mean to-” Will paused as if he had just realized what had been said. “Actually, first of all, don’t do that, that’s bad” he continued, looking for all the world like a disapproving lecturer while Lyra snickered next to him like the teacher’s pet. “But I don’t go into the cinema planning on falling asleep, it just happens. I mean it’s dark and the seats recline and they’re actually weirdly comfortable-”

“And you constantly overwork yourself to the point of exhaustion.” Lyra interrupted. “Lyra, please don’t start this again.” Will sighed, rubbing his eyes as if he was already tired of the topic. Lyra was undeterred. “I’m not starting anything; I’m continuing a conversation you keep refusing to participate in.” Her face softened. “I’m not trying to berate you, but you do too much Will. I mean, A-levels, and your apprenticeship, and tutoring, and helping your mum around the house…. you do it all wonderfully, of course, but it’s still too much.” Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with Lyra. “I just wish you’d get how important it is to take a break sometimes and relax, which is what I thought going to the cinema would be, but you always end up just snoring into my shoulder.” Will squinted at her in disbelief. “I don’t snore.” “Yes you do, but that’s not the point.” Lyra replied, cutting him off before he could argue further. “Honestly I don’t know why you even come anymore. I mean, what are you getting out of it?”

Will glanced at the camera, suddenly looking as if he wished very much they were having this conversation anywhere but in front of it. “Because…. you’re always so excited when something new comes out.” Lyra paused, taken aback for a moment. “And because you’re absolutely impossible to say no to.” He seemed to relax more as he settled back into his usual teasing tone. “Seriously,” he continued, grinning up at the camera now, “the second she hears ‘no’ she pulls this sad, pouty face like you just kicked Pan across the room.” Still smiling, he turned his attention to Lyra, expecting a laugh or a sarcastic response, but found instead that she was simply looking at him with wide eyes. “So you mean you’ve only been going…for me? Her voice was uncommonly gentle and her cheeks were unusually pink. The teasing mood seemed to dissipate. “Well, I mean, not just for you,” Will began, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “sometimes we go with Roger and Billy, after all…” Lyra’s eyes hadn’t left his face. “but yeah. Mostly, I guess.” Lyra’s face broke into a wide smile. “Oh Will-”

“Now don’t go getting sappy on me.” He interrupted, nudging her shoulder gently with his own. “It shouldn’t be a surprise that I like seeing my best friend happy. Besides, it’s the same as you going to all those cooking classes with me, even though you burn everything you make.” “I don’t burn everything.” Lyra sniffed, looking offended at the accusation. “Nearly everything, then.” Will shot back. “Alright fine point taken.” She replied with a grin and an eye roll. “And you’re right, it’s not a surprise. It’s just…..really sweet.” She smiled warmly at him and reached her hand out to hold his atop the table. “Thank you Will.” Will grinned back at her and squeezed her hand lightly “Of course. So we’re still on for Friday?”

“Definitely. But from now on, I’m buying the tickets.” “What – who says?” “I say.” She smirked. “If someone’s going to pay for you to take a nap in a sticky-floored auditorium, then that someone’s going to be me.” Will grimaced “But you’re already buying the popcorn!” “Of course I am; I’m the one who eats all of it!”

“Fine” Will conceded with a roll of his eyes. “But from now on you can’t complain if I fall asleep on your shoulder.” “Hey I never complained about that; I complained about your snoring.” “I don’t snore!” “And the drooling.”

“I do not-” They were cut off by a very loud – and fairly irritated – “Ahem” from off-screen. Both teens jumped slightly, blinking in surprise when they found that their faces had somehow grown much closer during their bickering, and that they had yet to release their hold on each other’s hand. “Not to interrupt,” Roger’s voice came again (sounding like interrupting was in fact the very thing he had had in mind). “But you do have other questions here guys.” “Right,” Lyra seemed to collect herself; pulling her hand away from Will’s and clearing her throat. “So anyway, next question. Ok, from nobiggerthanamustardseed: do you have any plans for the future? Wow mustardseed, you sure know how to bring the excitement.” They both stopped to think for a moment. “Well,” Lyra began, “we’re both studying our A-levels right now, but I think Will has a more concrete idea for his further education than I do. There’s a lot of different subjects I’m interested in, but lately I’ve been focusing more on language.” “Yeah you mentioned that,” Will broke in, “more ancient languages right? Like symbology?” Lyra nodded. “But I’ve also been thinking about taking a gap year. Dr. Malone’s been saying she might need an assistant on her research trip next year, and her last paper on dark matter was fascinating. It’d be nice to do a little traveling too. I’d have to make sure I force you to visit me though,” she looked over at Will with a smirk. “Get your head out of the books.” Will snorted in response. “As I remember it, having my head in the books wasn’t a problem when I was helping you study.” “Yes, how could I forget, oh great Professor Parry” Lyra’s voice was dripping with sarcasm; Will only rolled his eyes in return. “No to be fair, I probably wouldn’t have passed my anatomy exam without your help, even if you were a bit of a drill sargent.” “No, you definitely wouldn’t have.”

Lyra clicked her tongue in mock annoyance. “And just when I was trying to give you a compliment-” “That’s what you call a compliment?” “When it’s directed at you, yes. Anyway, enough about me; tell the people what you’re going to do.” But before Will could open his mouth to respond, Lyra was already talking again. “He’s going to be a doctor.” Will laughed. “Well you don’t have to say it like that.” “I can’t help it.” Lyra responded. “You’ve only been talking about it since KS3.” “What, and now it’s a bad thing to have goals?” “Of course not, it just gets old talking about all the courses you’ll need to take and the admittance requirements that need to be met.” Lyra sighed, but it was clear to see her complaints weren’t serious. She turned her attention to the camera: “But since you all haven’t had to suffer through all of that, I’ll tell you that Will is absolutely brilliant – got nearly perfect scores on his GCSE this year, an apprenticeship with NHS, and he’s already fielding scholarship offers for uni.” Next to her, Will had covered his suddenly pink face in embarrassment, but couldn’t seem to stop a wide grin from spreading across it. “Even though you’re almost insufferably noble about it,” Lyra continued, “I am very proud of you, and I know you’ll make an amazing doctor.”

Will’s grin only grew as he uncovered his face to meet Lyra’s eyes. “Thank you.”

A beat of sincerity passed between them, interrupted almost immediately by Lyra. “And even though I cannot stand the thought of being forced to share you with the world, your gift is too great to keep you all to myself.” Will rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics. “So long as you promise not to forget little old me while you’re off saving lives.” Lyra continued, throwing a melodramatic arm across Will’s shoulders.

“You’re such a ham.” He laughed, gently shrugging her arm away. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to go to a different continent with Dr. Malone a few minutes ago?” “I don’t recall that, no.” “Besides,” he continued with a roll of his eyes, “we live in Oxford. Any university I’d want to go to is an hour away at most. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Belacqua.” Lyra seemed to drop her theatrics, looking instead at Will with soft eyes and a gentle smile. “Is that so, Parry?” “It is.” He answered, his expression mirroring hers.

Another beat passed between them, longer than the first, before Lyra’s attention shift back towards the laptop screen. “Alright everyone, I think we have time for one more question. Let’s see… here we go, from EP1985: how long have you two been dat – ” her sentence cut off suddenly, and she glanced nervously over at Will then up at the camera before continuing. “Oh no, we’re not –” but her words stopped suddenly again, her face very rapidly turning red. His curiosity piqued, Will leaned closer to Lyra to read the question over her shoulder “We’re not what?” he asked, squinting at the screen to make it out, before his eyes grew wide and his cheeks grew red to match Lyra’s. “Oh! No, no, definitely not.” He continued with an awkward laugh, leaning back to sit ramrod straight in his chair and stare directly at the table in front of him, while all the time Lyra seemed as if she was trying to both watch his every move and pretend he didn’t exist. There was a moment of silence as both teens avoided eye contact with each other, the camera, or – presumably – Roger. Finally Lyra cleared her throat and said, her voice slightly strained, “Sorry to disappoint anyone, I guess, but Will and I are… just friends.” Her eyes flickered quickly over to Will, who nodded quickly in agreement. “Exactly. We didn’t mean to give you guys the wrong impression, but there’s nothing but friendship here.”

Hearing the other’s words seemed to let them both relax, although their faces were still flushed. “It’s kind of funny, actually,” Lyra began, catching Will’s gaze again, but with amusement rather than worry in her eyes, “how many times we’ve heard that since we started making videos.”

“Yeah it’s weird,” he replied, a grin slowly forming, “don’t know how everyone keeps coming to such a crazy conclusion.”

“Anyway, that’s all the time we have for today!” Lyra said, addressing the camera directly. “Thanks so much for your questions guys and we’ll –” Will’s voice joined her’s for their usual sign-off. “ – see you back here next week!” Outro music began playing as Will and Lyra leaned their heads close in a now inaudible conversation, and the very last thing that was heard before the picture faded completely to black was Roger’s voice muttering a weary “Absolutely hopeless.”

#DON'T JUDGE ME THEY DESERVE STUPID OBLIVIOUS NORMAL TEEN AUS!!!!#LET THEM BE HAPPY UNIVERSE #IT'S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO #(also if anyone who spent any time in the uk reads this......no you didn't.#i did maybe 5 minutes of research into how schooling works there and i still don't fully understand it)#longpost

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taurnachardhin · 4 years

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SUPERNATURAL JUST LET ME LIVE.

See this is why I can't watch this show!! It's too personal! I get too hecking invested!! I want to return to my OTHER hyperfixations and come back to spn LATER but apparently I can't until I've written every possible better ending than the actual finale.

Today's edition: the best possible version the CW might hypothetically have let us see on air, based on the vague details I’ve seen so far about the "pre-covid" version of the script and my general healthy cynicism of what the network would permit.

Not bothering to write this as an actual fic because again I say an ending where Dean doesn't get to grow old is inherently garbage and I won't allow it and I won't try to rationalize it any more but like, in a universe where Dean still dies but the network doesn't COMPLETELY axe the Dean/Cas subplot, this is what I imagine is the closest we'd have gotten to canon:

The first 3/4 of the episode are basically the same, with the exception that when Sam brings up Cas at the pie festival, after Dean says “yeah I think about them too,” Dean STARTS to deflect, and then STOPS himself, because character growth. He tells Sam that before Cas died, Cas told him he loved him. And Sam at first just sort of nods sympathetically, because yeah, of course he does, we know this. But then he processes the haunted look on Dean’s face and goes, “Oh. Ohh. Okay.” And then like, very carefully and gently, “...What did you say?” and Dean says, “I didn’t get to say anything. That was right when the Empty took him.” And Sam, you know. He knows what it is Dean isn’t saying. He says, “Dean, I’m so sorry.” And at that point Dean, as far as he is concerned has basically just come out to his brother and he’s like ok end of conversation, “Anyway, pie.” Sam still pies him in the face to lighten the mood.

Later, Dean arrives in heaven, shocked, numb. It’s dark outside. He’s in the middle of a dirt road in a forest that stretches into the distance. The Impala is parked beside him. On autopilot almost, he opens the door and sits down behind the wheel. He starts crying. He told Sam “it was supposed to end like this” but it wasn’t. Not anymore. It’s stupid and it isn’t fair. After a minute, he recovers a bit, wipes the tears away, turns the key in the ignition. “Dean’s Theme” starts playing as he silently drives down the road. He pulls to a stop outside the Roadhouse.

The outside is eerily empty, and maybe he's thinking he remembers this part of heaven from "Dark Side of the Moon." He looks a little resigned, but maybe a little curious, and opens the door. At once, he’s greeted with warmth and light. Instead of just Ash and the Harvelles, the whole gang's there--Bobby, Rufus, Pamela, Charlie, Mary. Not John, because fuck that guy. In the background, you see a band setting up and tuning on the stage. (I know it was supposed to be Kansas, but I think it's actually much cuter if it's the dudes from Kansas, but they're "playing" just a random small-time bar band like they're old friends of Ellen's who used to play the Roadhouse back in the day. Give them a cute in-joke name to go on their drum kit.) Dean is attacked by a million hugs, there's tears all around--someone debriefs him on what the deal with heaven is now, maybe it's still Bobby. Maybe it's Mary, actually, and she's the one who tells him Cas was involved with it, and gives him the significant eyebrow-raise. Charlie, standing just behind Mary, makes eye contact with Dean and then nods eagerly toward the door. (A brief but significant wlw/mlm solidarity moment and a nice way of acknowledging the role of queer female fans in this moment being allowed to exist.)

Dean turns around, and sees Cas standing just outside the open door, looking sad and a little nervous. Dean on the other hand, looks ecstatic. He strides across the room and sweeps Cas up in the biggest hug ever. Cas initially can't help but smile but it quickly shifts to O_o like, wait hang on what's happening. Dean sets him down and they stand there out on the porch looking at each other, and Dean holds Cas by the shoulders, and looks serious all of a sudden.

“Cas,” he begins.

"I'm--sorry you're dead," Cas cuts in.

"Well, I'm--glad you're alive," Dean says. "Look, about what you said--"

"It's OK," Cas says quickly. "I told you, I know I can't have--"

"Cas."

"And it's fine, I really don't mind--"

"Cas, would you let me just say something?"

Cas shuts up, looking supremely nervous.

Dean keeps one hand on Cas's shoulder and with the other does that hand gesture like he did when he told Cas, "don't ever change," (it's a visual callback to one of their most iconic moments, and I think one of the earliest moments where they both just looked blatantly adoring at each other, and reminds us that these idiots have been in love since season 5!!) and with that exact same tone, he looks him in the eye and says, "Cas...don't you dare think you can't have what you want."

Cas looks confused, and then hopeful, and then Dean smiles at him, hearteyes to the max, and then suddenly Cas smiles back and they're both tearing up a little, and Cas just says, "Oh."

We cut back to inside the Roadhouse, where the band launches into the opening bars of "Carry On Wayward Son." Back outside, Dean looks up excitedly and does his "I love this song" line. Then he looks back at Cas and with the same cheesy-flirty grin he gave Cas when he rolled up at the Gas-n-Sip and asked for beef jerky and a pack of menthols, he holds out his arm for Cas to take, and raises his eyebrows. Cas looks at it and doesn't know what this means. He gives Dean that confused, squinty face, then hesitantly holds his arm up the same way and bumps Dean's elbow. (Does he really not know what Dean meant, or is he just playing dumb for old times' sake because he secretly knows that Dean thinks it's cute? You decide.) Dean's face is delighted, full of "yes yes yes this is my socially awkward angel whom I love" and instead just grabs his arm and drags him inside.

Cut to Sam growing old montage, only Eileen is there and we see the two of them and their kid doing like, ANYTHING meaningful and unique to show they aren't just living a cookie cutter suburban nuclear family life. THEY'RE LIVING IN THE BUNKER, ASSHOLES. LITERALLY WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE SUCH AN AWESOME PLACE WHERE YOU MYSTERIOUSLY DON’T OWE RENT OR UTILITIES. (On reflection, this is maybe the actual most confusing thing that happened in that episode.) With this rousing, live version of "Carry On," we get the sense that Sam was able to live a life of joy and energy instead of just melancholy emptiness with his generic son and blurry, faceless wife. Intercut with Sam's life, we catch glimpses of Dean and Cas sort of slo-mo-ing through the bar, being welcomed back by everyone as people start dancing. Every time we cut back to it there are more people there--Jody, Donna, Garth...Eileen shows up in the crowd towards the end so we know she gets to be in heaven with them, too, and she surreptitiously signs "congratulations" to Dean. After Eileen appears, any time you see the lead vocalist (could they have gotten Steve Walsh out of retirement for this??), he's signing the lyrics as well as singing. Sam dies of old man disease, and we cut back to the interior of the Roadhouse on the song's bridge, where we see everyone dancing, and Dean and Cas are now awkwardly but happily dancing together. Maybe they're not even quite dancing, just like, swaying with one arm around the other. Depends on what they'll let us get away with.

As the song hits "now your life's no longer empty / surely heaven waits for you," Dean instinctively looks away from Cas up at the doorway again, and now it's Sam standing there. He takes in Dean and Cas and gives them a snarky little brother "finally" look. Dean sort of shrugs and grins and Sam comes toward them. Dean and Cas part so the bros can hug while Cas and the others look on happily. Dean then pulls Cas in so he has an arm around both of them, and Sam gives Cas a little knowing nod like "nice" and Cas looks validated. Eileen approaches and she and Sam are reunited. Dean has most of the people he loves under one roof and he and Cas are in love and he really has never been this happy. As the band jams to the finish, we get an external shot of Roadhouse that shows the natural beauty around it, throw in a cheesy sunrise! Because symbolism, and why not!! End.

I would have cried, y'all! Even though it's a cheesefest I would have been a whole sucker for it! No matter how much I hated Dean's death, I would have found that really affecting and not felt entirely cheated. The treatment of the destiel narrative might have still felt like a cop out to some people since it arguably would have still remained subtext, but at least an effort was MADE in a way that validates the fans and respects the characters’ journeys. It would have felt more in character for Dean than the ~huh, cool~ response we got from the man who just a week ago sprinted up 3 flights of stairs because he thought Cas was there, and the week before that was audibly weeping over Cas's death. It gives us a solid promise that even though Dean is still awkward and repressed af, he is going to tell Cas he loves him with his actual words someday. We get to see Cas see that, to understand that his love is not unrequited even if Dean is gonna need a minute. We get to see all THREE of them be complete, three-dimensional people instead of a hollow shell that only cares about his car and his brother, a hollow shell that only cares about his brother and his son whom he named after his brother, and uh, absent. This version still very much centers just the brothers for most of the episode, and gives them their reunion hug at the end, just not in a way that makes it look like literally no one else exists or matters in the same universe as them.

(Where is Jack? Since I'm a little behind I don't have a solid idea of where he fits in at the end, but I kind of like the image of getting a cameo of him behind the bar. Maybe his new Aunt Jo is teaching him how to mix drinks. I like to imagine most people don't know that the cheerful, baby-faced bartender who shows up at the Roadhouse now and then is actually God and not just another rando the Winchesters adopted into their family.)

#I AM A WOMAN POSSESSED #spn #finale fix-it take 2 #dean x cas #spn wank//#spn negativity//#sorry everyone i'm gonna get it all out of my system eventually #spn junk box

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oosteven-universe · 4 years

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Star Trek Hell’s Mirror One-Shot

Star Trek Hell’s Mirror One-Shot IDW Publishing 2020 Written by J.M. DeMatteis Illustrated by Matthew Dow Smith Coloured by Candice Han Lettered by Neil Uyetake Legendary writer J.M. DeMatteis returns to Star Trek for the first time in nearly 40 years! And it’ll be well worth the wait, as he tackles two of the franchise’s most popular concepts: Khan Noonien Singh and the Mirror Universe! This is why I love Star Trek! There is such a rich and storied universe at the creators’ fingertips that just begs to be explored. DeMatteis comes into this with what I would consider a dream project here. For me this is one of those “why haven’t we seen this before” kind of issues and that we are getting now from folks who are so incredibly talented is just a bonus. Who is worse here as we’ve got Khan who was pretty much a dictator madman type of guy in the regular universe and I just can’t imagine he’d be that different in this universe and to see that go up against a much more ruthless version of Kirk is like a dream come true. The way that this is being told is sensational! How we see the story & plot development always moving forward through how the sequence of events unfold as well as how the reader learns information is beautifully presented. I love seeing how this comes about and how we learn of Khan’s life in the Mirror Universe. The character development that we see here is amazing and as we see the characters go through what they do and the actions which they take I am blown away but what I see here. The pacing is superb and as it takes us through the pages revealing the twists and turns along the way we see such a superb version of these characters that we want to see more of. The way this is structured and how we see everything working together to create the story’s ebb & flow is remarkably well done. Just seeing this makes me miss the television series and the film so bad. We have lost so many of the actors over the years and to be able to see them again here in this manner brings back a part of my childhood that I honestly thought I had lost. Aside from that factor this is just an amazingly good story in its own right and that’s worth its weight in gold. The work we see on the interiors here is utterly fabulous! The linework we see is great and how the varying weights are being utilised to bring out the attention to detail is extremely well done. Matthew is a talented, talented artist and illustrator and the work he does is so spot on the characters likenesses it’s uncanny and thrilling. This may be one of the few cases where only utilising linework is something I can completely support just because of how well it’s laid down and how beautiful it makes the imagery on the page. The way that we see backgrounds being utilised not only expands the moments but brings us depth perception, this sense of scale and the overall sense of size and scope for the story. The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show a masterful eye for storytelling. The colour work is amazing as well. How we see the various hues and tones within the colours being utilised to create the shading, highlights and shadow work is gorgeously rendered. Also the way we see the green phaser effects is a true highlight for me. As is in a one-shot the story is very self-contained and fits beautifully in the allotted space. However, that being said I want more. How I would have been over the moon elated to have a four issue mini-series. This really does embody what I think of when I envision the original series and it’s so perfectly well realised through and through.

#Comic Books #Comics Reviews #IDW Publishing

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queermediastudies · 5 years

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C.R.A.Z.Y. and the Search for Identity

C.R.A.Z.Y. is a 2005 French Canadian film from director Jean-Marc Vallée. The film itself centers on Zac, a character that his going through an identity crisis over the course of the film. Zac also has four brothers. Christian is something of an egghead who reads everything and is (assumed) to be very smart. Raymond, whom Zac declares his enemy and is the films problem child. Then there is Antoine who is the athlete of the family. Finally there is Yvan, the youngest in the family and the one who speaks the least. The movie itself, focuses on the relationship between Zac and his father. While the movie clearly shows the struggle for identity, and acceptance, this is all the movie really does. It is not actually interested in taking on the greater LGBTQ issues throughout.

Zac is the fourth born son in the family. When arranging the brothers in order of birth it is, Christian, Raymond, Antoine, Zac and Yvan. The first letter of their names, in birth order, spells out C.R.A.Z.Y., which the film uses to symbolizes the dysfunction of the family as a whole. The boys have all grown up under a strict, incredibly masculine father. The father’s name is Gervais and he wants all of his children to grow up to be big strong men. Zac is fortunate enough (or unfortunate enough) to be born on Christmas day in 1960. He is constantly reminded that his birthday is the same as Jesus Christ (which is significant with him growing up in a very Catholic family) and that because of that he must have a gift. He is, the film points out, not like other boys. The film leads audiences astray by saying Zac must have a gift. If he thinks of people while they’re in pain they’ll get better. What the film is really alluding to, however, is Zac’s homosexual desires.

The film plays around with the identity crisis a lot. While Zac is the main character and his identity throughout the film is front and center, the film is really about a father’s love for his sons, but also the toxic masculinity of that father. As the film begins Zac is a child, and his father’s favorite son. But as Zac gets older his father wants him to be a “man.” He doesn’t want Zac to be soft or feminine. A key scene in the film is Gervais stumbling upon Zac wearing women’s clothing and enjoying himself. This moment, Zac narrates, is a moment which “declares war” on his father, unbeknownst to him.

The film goes through three different periods of time. First the early 60’s when Zac is a child. The film then jumps to the mid 70’s when Zac is in adolescence and finally ends in early 1981 when Zac is an adult. It’s in adolescence that the film primarily pays attention to Zac and the “problem child,” Raymond.

Raymond, who represents a lot of toxic masculinity, is shown as Zac’s sworn enemy throughout the film. Raymond picks on Zac, tortures him, and calls him homophobic slurs. But it is also in adolescence that Raymond begins to develop a drug addiction. Like Zac, Raymond disappoints his father, but it’s due to his drug addiction, not sexuality. On the other hand, Gervais actually sees Zac’s sexuality as more of a problem.

Zac spends a great deal of the film wanting to desperately win his father’s approval and he does so by trying very hard to repress his homosexual desires. The movie has a way of communicating Zac’s identity crisis as he explores who he may be. In one particular scene the audience sees that Zac is a David Bowie fan in the 1970’s. David Bowie was said to be undergoing an identity crisis during that time. In 1972, David Bowie said he was a homosexual. Of course, over the course of his life, Bowie has been quite ambiguous about his sexuality (with the most common answer now being that he was bisexual). With Zac undergoing his own identity crisis, David Bowie is definitely the perfect symbol in the 1970’s. In a scene where he’s singing David Bowie in his room the audience can also see the Pink Floyd rainbow spectrum in the background. Though Pink Floyd has nothing to do with homosexuality, the rainbow is a symbol of gay pride. The camera makes sure you don’t always see the whole Pink Floyd symbol and mostly shows the audience the rainbow.

In another scene Zac is seen interested in other boys and trying not to let that show (in one instance he feigns having an infatuation with his cousin when it is, in fact, her boyfriend he’s actually interested in).

The most important part of his identity crisis comes from wanting to please his strict Catholic father. Gervais has a Patsy Cline record where he listens to his favorite song: Crazy. Part of how Zac “declares war” on his father is also because he accidentally broke that record. However, this symbolizes their destroyed relationship. A major subplot of the film is Zac constantly trying to find this record in hopes that this will please his father enough to accept him.

Catholic guilt, another trait associated with homosexuality within catholic households, is also a major theme in the film. There are several instances of crosses seen throughout. The mother is devout in her prayers and Zac even takes a trip to Jerusalem where he is able to accept his identity. The fact that the film spends so much time with a son getting right with his father is likely another Catholic symbol. Catholics often have to confess sins and ask for forgiveness to get back into the circle with God the Father. This is exactly what Zac has to do throughout the movie. Instead of having to get right with the Lord, however, Zac has to get right with his literal father. This can only happen by confessing his homosexuality to his father, and himself. Something Zac spends the majority of the film trying to repress.

Another interesting aspect of the film is that throughout, it is clear that most of the other characters are aware of Zac’s homosexuality. Zac’s mother is quite supportive of him throughout the film. Even Raymond the “problem child,” ends up defending Zac from homophobes. The only character in denial is Gervais, who spends much of the film suggesting that Zac couldn’t possibly be a homosexual because in late adolescence and early adulthood Zac manages to get himself into a relationship with a woman. During this time in adulthood, it seems like Zac is able to please his father, but this means lying to himself.

C.R.A.Z.Y. definitely takes the issues of identity and acceptance quite seriously and without a lot of sex. There are implied sexual acts, but nothing explicit. C.R.A.Z.Y. isn’t out to shock the audience, it is out to show a very real struggle that happens with those who identity as LGBTQ. There is nothing presented about Zac’s identity crisis that’s funny. His process of coming out and acceptance isn’t treated as a joke, but rather torture. Whether that’s from his father or his brother.

C.R.A.Z.Y. was a huge critical success, but it was not necessarily a mainstream one. Being a foreign film meant that it was not widely distributed in the United States. It was also a smaller independent project. C.R.A.Z.Y. also came out the same year as “Brokeback Mountain,” but this film’s lack of media publicity makes it feel less like a moment where the culture pats itself on the back, and more like it was trying to present something more authentic. C.R.A.Z.Y. doesn’t rely too heavily on stereotypes. As well as it handles the identity crisis, however, the movie shows that it is firmly a product of its time by refusing to be too political in any sense of the word.

C.R.A.Z.Y. came out eight years after Ellen had literally come out. The approach that Ellen took was a means of depoliticizing queerness, and focusing on identity (Dow, 2001). C.R.A.Z.Y. is similar in that it does not spend a lot of time focusing on any particular political issues of the day, or even struggles beyond identity. This is especially baffling within the film, as the majority of it takes place in the 1970’s, but has little to say about the ongoing gay rights movement that was taking place in Canada at the time. The movie seems to care little for actually discussing the political climate that Zac is finding himself in. This suggests that the struggle for identity and coming out is one done in isolation, with nothing from the outside creeping in.

It is also worth examining who created the film. Director Jean-Marc Vallée is known more today for the movie “The Dallas Buyer’s Club,” but he is a straight, cis-gendered, white male. This will often bring about the question who the movie is made for, and why. As Doty (1993) reminds us, the director of a film can actually influence what the audience sees and experiences on screen. Vallée is actually quite known for his attempts at allyship through film, but he has also been criticized for his handling of some of these issues. C.R.A.Z.Y. is his most praised work for how well it dives into identity, but it also shows the reality of who is able to have their projects funded. Could C.R.A.Z.Y. have been made by a queer man? It is unlikely that this would be the case.

On the other hand, as Joyrich (2014) points out, such displays of identity can still help in smaller ways. I do believe this to be true of C.R.A.Z.Y.. The film came out in 2005 when such topics as gay marriage and visibility were greater topics of discussion throughout Canada and the United States. Nevertheless, the film would still be considered “safe,” by all accounts. C.R.A.Z.Y. is a fairly sexless affair. One that is able to meet the “approval” of most straight audiences. In fact, until the very end, one might wonder if C.R.A.Z.Y. even is about identity simply for the fact that even after Zac fully realizes his homosexuality… the movie doesn’t explicitly state this. The climactic discussion between Zac and his father is one in which “homosexual” or “gay” is never stated, but is explicitly implied. Much like the 2016 film “Moonlight,” C.R.A.Z.Y. is one that largely meets approval based on how little sexuality is on display. This might refer to Guy Lodge’s (2017) criticism that in order for queer cinema to succeed in the west it needs to be sexless. In discussing “Moonlight” Lodge pointed out “it’s hard to imagine an equally accomplished yet more explicit film receiving the same acclaim.” The same can be said of C.R.A.Z.Y. Even though C.R.A.Z.Y. is a French-Canadian film, it is still quite Americanized in its presentation. Homosexuality can be talked about, but it can’t fully be on display.

This also means that the film risks being part of what Suzanne Walters (2014) refers to as “the tolerance trap.” Walters argues that gay visibility alone is not a sign of progress. “Acceptance is the handmaiden of tolerance, and both are inadequate, and even dangerous, for accessing real social inclusion…” (p. 3) C.R.A.Z.Y. has been praised substantially. It is one of a small number of films on Rotten Tomatoes to have a 100% rating (it is the only LGBTQ film to have such a rating). This praise may not have the same back-patting praise that a film such as “Brokeback Mountain,” has, but it still has the air of “tolerance,” to it. Zac spends the majority of the film either in the closet or repressed--unable to act on his sexuality in any regard. The main point of the movie is his father’s acceptance. This is the goal of the movie--to establish Gervais’s acceptance of his son. Once this is achieved and the “war” between them is over, the movie concludes. Considering that the movie itself ends in the year 1981, this means the movie does not have to deal with the AIDS crisis that will soon follow.

C.R.A.Z.Y. is a film more concerned with visibility and identity, but does not seek to apply this in a manner that would deem the film too “political.” This approach more to acceptance and identity helps a little, but it isn’t quite enough, even in 2005. It’s certainly better than what the the championed mainstream film “Brokeback Mountain” was. However, the obsession with tolerance, acceptance, and the lack of engaging politically with struggles beyond the personal makes a film like C.R.A.Z.Y. only really appear daring at what it does. It’s feels like more than window dressing because it comes across as more authentic. This certainly allows audiences to empathize with Zac, but it also stands to leave the audience with the belief that empathy and acceptance is all that is required when engaging with LGBTQ people. It’s a lot like saying, “I don’t care if your gay, bisexual or attracted to buildings! You’re still my son and love you!” From a personal standpoint this sounds just fine, but it does not show that one would stand up and fight for LGBTQ rights, or fight to enact change. Rather it shows that one can engage in individual forms of acceptance and tolerance, but that once something more is required than simply the personal, audiences may not necessarily be willing to rise up and do something. This could be, as Doty (1993) notes, because the “queer operates within the nonqueer” (pp. 3). C.R.A.Z.Y. may not have been as big of a mainstream hit as “Brokeback Mountain,” but the intent was still to reach a much wider audience. This is something that the film cannot do if it’s “too political.” This would risk alienating a section of the audience. In order for a film like C.R.A.Z.Y. to find mainstream success, it needs to be seen as acceptable by dominant power structures. This involves not necessarily challenging those structures, which is why the film’s messages are more individualistic and personalized.

References

Doty, A. (1993) “Something queer here,” in Making things perfectly queer (pp. 1-16). University of Minnesota Press.

Doty, A. (1993) “Whose Text is it Anyway,” in Making things perfectly queer (pp. 17-38). University of Minnesota Press.

Dow, B. (2001) Ellen, television, and the politics of gay and lesbian visibility, Critical Studies in Media Communication, 18(2) 123-140. doi: 10.1080/07393180128077

Joyrich, L. (2014). Queer television studies: Currents, flows, and (main) streams. Cinema Journal, 53(2), (pp. 133-139). doi:

Lodge, G (2017, January 5). “Does Moonlight show gay cinema has to be sexless to succeed?” The Guardian. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/jan/05/does-moonlight-prove-that-gay-cinema-has-to-be-sexless-to-succeed

youtube

#queermediastudies #crazy #queeridentity

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eddycurrents · 6 years

Photo

BPRD: 1946 - Chapter One

Story: Mike Mignola & Joshua Dysart | Art: Paul Azaceta | Colours: Nick Filardi | Letters: Clem Robins

Originally published by Dark Horse in BPRD: 1946 #1 | January 2008

Collected in BPRD - Volume 9: 1946 | BPRD: 1946 - 1948

Plot Summary:

In the early days of the BPRD, Trevor Bruttenholm and Howard Eaton travel to Germany following the war in order to catalogue and possibly recover occult artifacts hoarded by the Nazis.

Reading Notes:

(Note: Pagination is in reference to the chapter itself and is not indicative of anything found in the issue or collections.)

pg. 1 - The cold open on this confused woman, bound and apparently being either tortured or experimented upon is interesting. It keeps us off balance from the beginning, leaving us unsure as to what exactly is going on and who to actually feel sympathy for.

pg. 2 - Then the swastika leaves no doubt as to who the “bad guy” is, but the shift to her breaking free from her restraints and slashing the doctors has you questioning things more. It’s pretty obvious she’s a vampire, especially as the colour wash changes from blue to red, but we’re not given any other information.

pg. 3 - So, I at least still feel sympathy for the poor woman as the cross-decked out Nazi stormtroopers go in on her.

pg. 4 - I can answer this now without going into anything further, no. Even if they weren’t Nazis, these kind of experiments never turn out well and, yes, everyone participating in them usually winds up dead or worse.

pg. 5 - I like the establishing shots and background story of how far Germany has fallen since the war. It not only gives the survivors a more sympathetic approach, even with the caveats provided in story and in real life, but also the state of chaos that currently exists in Berlin. It creates a setting that is pretty much ripe for neglect and evil to prosper.

pg. 7 - I think this may well be the first time in the comics themselves that we learn how to pronounce Bruttenholm’s name.

pg. 8 - This is funny.

pg. 9 - Although not stated, this probably occurs after Winston Churchill’s “iron curtain” speech early into 1946 that began delineating the Russians as an enemy again, despite good sentiment among many when they were allies during the war.

pg. 10 - Definitely a motley crew of “help”.

pg. 11 - So...no real “help” from most of them.

pg. 14/15 - Nice double page spread here with a lot of the artifacts that the Russians have already looted and brought back to their hangar. There’s some neat stuff in there that deserves time to see.

pg. 16 - And we meet Varvara. I’ve never been certain as to whether or not she was supposed to look like and be similar to Vasilisa, but right down to the dolly and age beyond her years, she does. You’d think more people, including her own agents, would question why a “child” is running these operations in Germany.

pg. 18 - It’s kind of interesting as to how easy it was to gain at least cooperation in regards to information about Hellboy.

pg. 20 - Nice architecture. I’m surprised they didn’t take their squad with them. It’s early in the Bureau’s history, sure, but Bruttenholm’s seen action before this. You’d think walking in to a spooky abandoned asylum unarmed wouldn’t be the brightest of ideas.

pg. 21 - See creepiness right from the onset.

pg. 22 - And it’s clear that some really nasty stuff has gone on here.

pg. 23-24 - The monsters in the shadows are terrifying.

Final Thoughts:

This series started a number of things within the Hellboy universe, including the series of “yearbook” historical stories (running from 1946-1948, then jumping to 1952 as Hellboy and the BPRD), the introduction of Varvara as a new significant figure, and the vampire parallel arc (picking up from that mention regarding Giurescu in Wake the Devil).

And it brought in Joshua Dysart, Paul Azaceta, and Nick Filardi to give it a slightly different flavour from the main BPRD narrative, embracing a similar darker tone as the Abe Sapien series. Dysart, at this point, was no stranger to horror and darker narratives, having already done a stint on Swamp Thing and with his own Violent Messiahs.

Azaceta’s linework has always reminded me a bit of Matthew Dow Smith, John Van Fleet, John Paul Leon, and Tommy Lee Edwards, embracing heavy shadows and simplified shapes that lend well to colour washes and the kind of ominous atmosphere that often surfaces in Hellboy universe stories.

d. emerson eddy knows that the world is a vampire. Sent to drain.

#Give 'em Hellboy #Hellboy #BPRD #1946 #Mike Mignola #Joshua Dysart #Paul Azaceta #RaisingHellboy #88

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ialwayscomewhenyoucall · 6 years

Text

‘til Midnight

chapter 6/7

ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

twelve x rose, Into the Dalek coda

“Only half an hour? How can there only be half an hour left?”

Thirty-four minutes, thirty-three seconds, thirty two, thirty one...

The Doctor looks pointedly at Rose, his eyes flicking to her well-kissed lips and unkempt hair. “We did spend rather a lot of time in the music room.”

Her cheeks flush; he can nearly see the memories play across her face. She touches her hair and makes a face. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything handy to fix my hair.” She glances around the console room and shakes her head, absentmindedly using her fingers to attempt to tame the worst of the flyaway bits. “Just what I need, to jump back to Torchwood looking like I’ve been thoroughly snogged.”

“You have been thoroughly snogged,” says the Doctor, bounding up the steps to look at the books on one of his many bookshelves. “And you weren’t complaining before.”

“Of course I wasn’t! But no one else needs to know that!” Rose crosses her arms and shoots an exasperated look at the Doctor.

“Ah, here it is,” he says, grabbing a book and taking the steps two at a time to stand in front of her again. “This’ll help,” he says, thrusting the book into her hands.

“The Hobbit?” She looks at the book, then at him, then at the book again.

“Just open it,” he says, the corners of his mouth quirking up in an almost smile.

Rose opens the book, looks inside, and laughs. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is...it’s exactly like you.”

The book isn’t a real book, or if it once was it isn’t anymore; it’s hollow, and inside Rose finds a hairbrush, a few hair ties, a headband, a dozen or so bobby pins, and a barrette in the shape of a butterfly. They shouldn’t fit inside the book, of course, but like everything else the Doctor makes it’s bigger on the inside. Pulling out the brush to tidy up her hair she gasps.

“But this is--”

“Yours. Yes.” The Doctor’s voice is soft. “It’s all yours. I…” His eyes dart about, searching for words, or answers, or possibly a place to hide. “I kept everything of yours, Rose. It’s all here.” A smile flits across his face.

There are things he can’t explain, like how there are times he hurts so much he takes everything of hers and asks the TARDIS to hide it away, and it stays hidden for years. Or how he took a silk scarf she wore once when they were traveling and had it made into a bowtie. How all her books are on his shelves, but he rarely reads them because he’s too afraid to damage them; instead he found duplicate copies of each and reads those over and over, reveling in the notion that she once read those words too.

He can’t quite place the look she’s giving him--awe? love? exasperation?--but there are too many questions behind her eyes. To change the subject, or possibly as an excuse to touch her again, he takes the brush from her hand. She barely notices. “May I?” he asks, eyes flicking toward her hair. She only stares.

“I’m just going to brush your hair then.” And he does, all gentle, like he’s trying to keep a frightened bird from stumbling out of its nest. When all the tangles are gone and her hair is smooth again he stands in front of her, takes the trick book from her grip. Holding her hands in his and catching her eyes the same way he says, “Please don’t ask me, Rose. I’m not going to tell you about your future.” He almost slips, almost says our.

Another bit of him breaks.

For a moment she looks like she’s going to argue, but she surprises him yet again. She presses a soft kiss to his lips then says, “I know. An’...an’ I really don’t want to know. I think.” She laughs, a short, bright little laugh. “I don’t want to mess anything up. If I change anything, maybe you wouldn’t be here today...right?”

He hopes his voice is reassuring when he says, “Just live, Rose. It will all work out.” For you, he adds in his head.

Stop it. This is not helping. You have to say goodbye in twenty-seven minutes. Stop being morose.

“I have something for you.” Changing the subject has become his go-to today. He pushes a series of buttons on the console, flips a switch, and a cd, already in a case, pops out of a slot just in front of Rose. “Take it,” he says. “I had the TARDIS make it for you.”

She holds it in her hands, a smile crossing her face. When she doesn’t say anything, the Doctor says awkwardly, “I just thought...well, you seemed to like it, so I thought you might like to listen to it again…”

There are tears in her eyes when she looks up at him. “It’s perfect. Rose and The Doctor, There and Back Again. That’s so...that’s just us. I can’t believe I’ll be able to listen to it again. You were recording the whole time? Doctor, I don’t even know how to thank you for--”

“You’ve got cd players over in that universe, don’t you?” he interrupts, brushing aside her thanks. They both know he’d do anything for her. I’m burning up a sun just to say goodbye. “I could put it on your phone, or...” He shrugs.

“We’ve got cd players, Doctor. Although vinyl is making a comeback, whoever would have expected that? Speaking of my phone, though…” She digs through the inner pocket of her blue leather jacket and pulls out something that looks almost, but not quite, like an iphone. Where the apple would normally be there’s a silhouette of a leaf. In response to his quizzical look she says, “Yeah, no Apple in the other universe. We have Maple instead. Weird, isn’t it.”

“A bit.”

She grins. “It’s a pretty good phone, though. Takes great pictures. Which is exactly what I want right now.” She tucks herself under his arm and gazes up at him, holding the phone at arm’s length to take a selfie. “Don’t look at the phone, look at me. I love the way you look at me.”

He has no problem with that. He doesn’t want to stop looking at her.

Ever.

She snaps a few pictures, then flips through them to see how they look. “Oh, this is the one.” Leaning up against him, her back to his chest, she shows him the picture. They’re looking at each other like nothing else exists.

“Yes,” he says. His voice is hoarse, almost cracking. Before handing the phone back he makes a few swipes on the screen. When his own phone chirps from his pocket he winks.

“How did you do that?” Rose asks, genuinely surprised. “Our phones are from separate realities. They shouldn’t even connect!”

“Time Lord. Big brain. Very clever.”

She rolls her eyes. “Right. May I have my phone back please, Doctor Clever? I want to save that photo in my ‘special people’ folder. There’s an auto-backup to my computer. As soon as I get back to the other universe, anyway.”

A look of pain passes over her face, but she pulls it in so quickly he doesn’t mention it. Instead he hands her phone back and says, “May I see your pictures, then? Any others of me?”

She turns her face up to him and kisses him on the tip of his nose. “You think pretty highly of yourself.”

“Quite right, too.”

“Doctor!” She tries to glare, but she’s overcome by giggles. “New body, new voice, new accent. Very much the same Doctor.”

“That’s the way it works,” he says. She’s looking at her phone and doesn’t notice his sad smile.

“Alright,” she says, handing the phone back. “Go ahead. You may recognize a few faces.”

It starts with a family picture: Jackie, Pete, Rose, and a tiny baby with a head of spiky blond hair. “Oh, look at Tony!” he says. Rose gives him an odd look. Oh. Right. “I mean, Oh look, Jackie had her baby,” he deadpans. She rolls her eyes.

There are familiar faces: Mickey, Jack, Sarah Jane. That surprises him a bit--not that Rose counts her as a friend, but that she actually has a picture--until he notices the background and the angle. “I never knew you got the TARDIS to take pictures for you.” Rose shrugs. “She usually tells me she’s not a photographer, and makes me argue for awhile. She always did like you best.” She ducks her head and turns away but not before he sees her smile, obviously pleased with the compliment.

He sees some people he doesn’t know, but recognizes in context: they are clearly from Torchwood in the other universe. He sees other faces from this universe, some of Rose’s childhood friends, maybe an aunt. And then…

The Doctor and Rose Tyler. As it should be.

The memories replay in his mind all the time, and he has many of these pictures in his own collection. But knowing she has them too, that they gaze upon the same…

Keep it together, Doctor.

Nineteen minutes, fifty-eight seconds, fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six seconds…

The two of them in the TARDIS, just after they’d left Cardiff and Charles Dickens behind. He’d made some excuse about needing to document the first time she’d dipped into the TARDIS’s wardrobe...but really he’d just wanted a picture of her in that dress.

The two of them dancing after they saved all the children--and everyone else--in 1940s London. Jack took that one. Even way back then they’d smiled at each other like no one else existed.

Him with a new suit--and a new face--in Jackie’s flat on Christmas.

The two of them arm in arm after the queen’s coronation, Rose all dressed in pink.

There are a whole series of snaps he doesn’t even remember her taking, all of him. Mostly of him grinning madly. Or making ridiculous faces. Or wearing those ridiculously unnecessary glasses.

She sidles up to him. “Ah,” she says. “I guess you can see how much I like the sexy specs.”

He makes a derisive noise. “You mean the ‘I am pretentious and will wear these glasses even though I don’t need them so I look even more so’ specs?”

“Very, very sexy,” she says, eyes fixed on the picture.

“I think they might be around here somewhere,” he says, taking a step toward the nearest corridor. The one step is all he’s allowed to take. Rose pulls him back and throws her arms around his neck, and in a breath both of them are lost in a long, drawn out kiss.

She looks up at him through her eyelashes. “You don’t need glasses to be sexy, Doctor,” she says, a bit breathless.

“Rose.”

It is an exhalation, a sob, a prayer. She is here, but he still wants what he cannot have.

A tear trickles down her cheek.

He pulls her close again, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you cry.”

She allows herself a minute to sob into his chest. Just a minute, no more, then she wipes away her tears and pulls herself together. “Sorry,” she says, her voice quavering just the slightest bit. “I was just thinkin’ about--”

“I know,” he says, the words catching in his throat. “Me too.”

They look at each other, unblinking, unable to look at anything else. Finally the Doctor says, “Can I look at the rest of the pictures, then?”

There are a few more of him, mostly the long and stripey him, and then one that stops him short.

Rose and a blond woman.

Rose and a woman with chin-length blond hair facing each other, hands clasped between them, completely in their own little world.

“Oh. Um, that’s just,” Rose says, trying to get the phone back from him, sounding very nervous. “That’s just, uh--”

“That’s me,” says the Doctor, with complete confidence. “Or, it will be. Someday.”

Rose gapes at him. “How could you possibly know that?” she says, disbelief thick in her voice.

“See the way she’s looking at you? That’s how I look at you. It’s in every single one of these pictures. And look how you’re looking at her. If that’s not me, I’m very, very jealous right now. But I’m not, because I know I’m right.”

Rose smiles at him, but it’s the saddest smile he’s ever seen on her face. “And now you know, Doctor.”

His eyebrows draw down. “Know what?”

“In a few minutes we have to say goodbye, but you know now you’ll get to see me again someday. One more time.”

@doctorroseprompts

#lirael writes #doctorroseprompts #twelve x rose #'til midnight #dw fic #into the dalek coda #the twelfth doctor #rose tyler #i'm almost done!!!!#one (little) chapter to go

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chpinthestacks · 5 years

Text

In the Stacks with Lara Mimosa Montes: Darrel Ellis

This past March, I visited OSMOS at 50 East 1st Street in Manhattan’s East Village to see some works by the Bronx-born painter and photographer Darrel Ellis. As far as I know, the last time any of Ellis’s works have been shown in New York was over fourteen years ago, in 2005, so it’s something of a big deal to see his work in the real world once again.

When I first began looking a bit more thoughtfully into Ellis’s biography upon recalling that he had been included in the exhibition Urban Mythologies: The Bronx Represented Since the 1960’s, a basic internet search yielded very few results, especially in comparison to Ellis’s peer group, which includes artists like Robert Mapplethorpe, Peter Hujar, and David Wojnarowicz. Apart from a short entry about Ellis on Visual AIDS and an exhibition catalog from 1996 published by Art in General to celebrate the posthumous, traveling exhibition which featured seventy of the artist’s works from his estate, there remains very little in print on the subject of Darrel Ellis. Given the works of his that I was able to view online and the little bits that I had been able to glean from his bio, this just didn’t sit right with me. This is an artist whose work needs to be known.

Self-portrait based on Peter Hujar photograph, c. 1990, painting on canvas, 22” × 24”. Courtesy of OSMOS. ⓒ Estate of Darrel Ellis.

Darrel Ellis was born December 5th, 1958. He died April 3rd, 1992, a couple of months before David Wojnarowicz, whose full-scale retrospective at the Whitney Museum, History Keeps Me Awake at Night, I saw last fall. Having encountered Wojnarowicz’s presence as a teenager through the fairly obscene underground films of Richard Kern [ie. “Stray Dogs” (1985) and “You Killed Me First” (1985)], it was definitely a trip seeing his work at the Whitney—it was packed to the point that I kind of didn’t want to be there. People love David now, I thought, a little moody.

As I moved through the museum’s galleries, I had to wonder what an artist like Wojnarowicz would think of all this posthumous looking and snapping. I had to ask myself: Why does the art world want to stage its appreciation for an artist like David Wojnarowicz now? Because the fucked up political future he had been observing finally came to pass? And if we are looking at David and the ambitious body of work he assembled during his lifetime and encountering it as emblematic of a certain downtown New York countercultural moment, or an idealized version of some queer, punk sensibility we associate with the ’80s and ’90s, then what else—and who else—in our historicization of that particular time drops out as a result?

I am not exempt from the “we” I speak of here; next to my bed currently sits a newly purchased copy of Weight of the Earth: The Tape Journals of David Wojnarowicz, published by Semiotext(e) just last year. My attention is turned towards David, too, and I suspect, unlike many of the tourists at the Whitney that day who might have been seeing his work for the first time, I had the luxury of living in New York City and participating in the art world in ways that allowed me to encounter his work IRL many times over the years and in several different contexts with varying degrees of politicization. I’ve even been lucky enough during my brief time working at a private arts college to teach and share his work with others. If I have a lot to say about David Wojnarowicz, it’s because I have had years of looking and thinking about his work alongside the many documented accounts of his critics, friends, admirers, and biographers, some of whom were fortunate enough to know him, and live to tell of their experiences (among my favorites of these accounts are those by artist Zoe Leonard, with thanks to Sarah Schulman).

The same, however, cannot be said of Darrel Ellis, so it is still something of an experiment: learning to look at and speak about his work, the impression it leaves on me. As of now, I cannot speculate as to how his art and reputation will fare in the wake of this strangely belated and renewed interest in the art historical ongoings and culture wars of the 1980s and ’90s. [1]

Poster for Day Without Art, designed by Danny Tisdale Studio, 1994, offset lithograph on paper; 35” × 25 ⅝”. Courtesy of Visual AIDS. Background image features Darrel Ellis’s Self-Portrait After Photograph by Robert Mapplethorpe, 1989.

When he died in the spring of 1992 of AIDS, Darrel Ellis was the same age as his father, Thomas Ellis: 33 years old. In 1958, Thomas, a postal clerk and aspiring photographer who briefly ran a portrait studio in Harlem with his wife, was killed by the police following an argument with two plainclothes detectives who had blocked his parked car. The injuries sustained from the altercation proved fatal. At the time of Thomas’s death, his wife was pregnant with Darrel. [2] Justice was never served.

These events and the life that preceded them, as documented by the senior Ellis in the many family photographs taken before Darrel was born in parts of the Bronx and Harlem during the 1950s, eventually made their way into Darrel’s work. In 1981, when Ellis was living in the Lower East Side with his then-lover and “unofficially” participating in the Whitney Museum’s Independent Study Program, the artist, writer, and independent curator Allen Frame recalls that Ellis had recently acquired some of his father’s black and white photographs from the 1950s which he was reinterpreting with ink on paper at the time. [3]

In 1983, BOMB magazine published some works from this period. [4]

Left: Darrel Ellis, My Mother and My Sister from My Father’s Photograph, 1982. Right: Thomas Ellis, Picnic NYC, 1953.

The diptych featuring Thomas Ellis’s photograph alongside his son’s interpretation published thirty years later is uncanny. In Darrel’s version, there are outlines, blurs, shadows, and contours. Certain details, like the density of the grass or the striped pattern on the young girl’s shorts fall away in favor of other, more plain facts, like “here’s a family.” The position of the subjects in relation to one another would suggest even without our knowing that these folks are kin. Their togetherness in time is an indisputable fact. Prior to Darrel’s being-in-the-world, Thomas’s photograph establishes the family as existing within a shared visual field: they had a life and their being together—whether it was in a park or at home—appears as a notably carefree aspect of that life.

Ellis continued experimenting with his father’s photographs: the layers of technique and reinterpretation that would distinguish his images from the ones taken by his father would become more pronounced. Allen Frame observes, “Between 1984 and 1986, [Ellis] made a series of photographs of his mother, brother, and sisters, from which he produced a new body of work evolving from screenprint to experimental photograph to painting. The screenprints, made while he was living at his mother’s apartment after breaking up with his boyfriend and coming out to his family, were compiled into a book at the Lower East Side Printshop, with the help of Susan Spencer Crowe.” [5] The book, published by Appearances Press in 1986, reveals various domestic scenes and interior living spaces depicting relatives sitting in the kitchen, around the family table, doing each other’s hair, laying in bed. They are sparse in terms of detail, and resemble studies of the generic and the sublime as they depict the taken for granted scenes from a life. Again, what stands out are not the faces of the individuals pictured, but their relation to one another as suggested by their body language, particularly the casual nature of their closeness. [6]

At some point, while looking at the drawings alongside the later photographs, I remember saying to my new friend, Kyle, who had accompanied me to see the show at OSMOS, “I don’t see how the artist who made these drawings also made these photographs. Or rather, I can’t see that the photographs were made by someone who primarily identified as a painter. . .” Kyle responded, “I can see it. . . Maybe it has to do more with understanding Darrel’s relationship as a painter to the photograph as a surface.”

Kyle was onto something. In an interview, Ellis said of his process, “The idea of putting a photo on any surface other than photo paper gives you a lot of freedom. The process became [one] about animating the photo, about revivification.” [7] Perhaps what was painterly about Ellis’s photographs, particularly those that reinterpreted his father’s negatives, was that he treated the original images as content rather than object. In other words, by projecting the negatives on a wall and then experimenting with both his position as the photographer in relation to the projected image and the dimensionality of the surface onto which the image was projected by creating sculptural forms onto which the projections would appear, Ellis transformed his father’s negatives into surface. The resulting images that we are left with therefore are not really appropriations; they’re the being-with of a trace of a lost object—the trace being the negative, and the lost object, the father. As Ellis reflected of his father’s images, “When I look at those photographs sometimes, all I see is holes.” [8] I will never fail to be moved by those words.

Left: Untitled (Aunt Connie and Uncle Richard), c. 1990, silver gelatin RC Print, 15 ¾” × 19 ¼”. Right: Untitled (Aunt Connie and Uncle Richard), c. 1990, crayon and ink on paper, 10” × 12”. Courtesy of OSMOS. ⓒ Estate of Darrel Ellis.

When Ellis was discovered in a coma by his friends Susan Spencer Crowe and Bruce Dow in the spring of 1992 at his apartment off Franklin Avenue in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, “his last self-portrait was sitting on his easel beside his bed, eerily depicting him as he was found: eyes closed, lying on his bed in deep repose.” [9] After spending some time with Ellis’s work at OSMOS, I felt better able to appreciate how complicated the idea of the self-portrait must have been for Ellis if he was so compelled to return to it as a generative mode of inquiry. By adopting different mediums such as drawing, painting, and photography, while sometimes blending all three in the process to create an individual work, I imagine he must have felt provoked, if not also a bit estranged, by all the selves he had discovered through his practice.

Among Ellis’s self-portraits, perhaps the most recognized one is Self-Portrait After Photograph by Robert Mapplethorpe which was featured in the now infamous Witnesses: Against Our Vanishing exhibition at Artists Space in 1989, curated by Nan Goldin. For the show, Ellis contributed two self-portraits, both of which were based on photographs taken of him by Peter Hujar and Robert Mapplethorpe. The caption in the exhibition catalogue that accompanies Self-Portrait After Photograph by Robert Mapplethorpe reads: “I struggle to resist the frozen images of myself taken by Robert Mapplethorpe and Peter Hujar.” I’ve never seen either of the photographs Mapplethorpe or Hujar took of Ellis, but I remain haunted by the decision Ellis made to take back his own image. [10] I suspect that if during this time period, Ellis became that much more aware of his mortality following the discovery of his HIV status, then “the struggle to resist the frozen images” through the creation of the self-portrait forms part of the process by which the artist is able to reassert his right to his body as well as his right to explore acts of self-representation. I imagine then for Ellis: the self-portrait is not a luxury, but a vital necessity.

[1] Thank you to Tiona Nekkia McClodden who, through her continued work, conversations, and writing on Essex Hemphill, Julius Eastman, and Brad Johnson, helped me think the most deeply about some of the contradictions inherent in this renewed interest in queer art from the 1980s and ’90s, and so much more.

[2] Allen Frame, “Our Family Legacy: Variations in Black and White,” Darrel Ellis (New York: Art in General, 1996), p.13.

[3] Ibid., 14.

[4] Darrel Ellis and Thomas Ellis, "Darrel Ellis, Thomas Ellis" in BOMB, no. 5 (1983): 44. Also see “Two Drawings by Darrel Ellis” in BOMB, No. 8, (1983/1984): 37.

[5] Allen Frame, “Our Family Legacy,” p. 17.

[6] Thank you to Ricardo Montez who, upon learning about my interest in Darrel, gifted me his copy of the aforementioned book.

[7] David Hirsh, “Darrel Ellis: On the Border of Family and Tribe,” in Disrupted Borders: An Intervention in Definitions of Boundaries, ed. Sunil Gupta (London: Rivers Oram Press, 1993), p.125.

[8] Ibid., 124.

[9] Allen Frame, “Our Family Legacy,” p.21.

[10] See Kobena Mercer, “Reading Racial Fetishism: The Photographs of Robert Mapplethorpe” (1986) for a more in-depth discussion of the artist’s use of black male bodies.

#lara mimosa montes #chpinthestacks #in the stacks #artist residency #darrel ellis #OSMOS

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foryouthegays · 6 years

Text

haha rant time

but whoop there might be swearing so be warned (yes there is swearing not so much but yeah its there) and bad spelling

About: parents, homework, school, therapy stuff like that

SO??? Im terrible at math right (lol who isnt) and im over here crying bc what the fuck does m represent?? There isnt anything telling me wer just have to guess??? And im just dying doing hw and my dad comes in and is liek

Oh ur just not trying or some shit and im over here crying bc what the furick does this mean whey are there so many differentnt formulas that i just have to know and memorise and my teacher doesnt explain wh y and thats something i need to know like whY is it like htis why doesnt this work and my dad just thinks that bc hes good at math im gonna be to and like thats not how anyting works

So i finally convince him to get me a tuter and now he makes fun of me for it?? Like he wants to tuter me himself but he dpent know what were working on and how and he just overcomplecates what i nened to know and i cant tell him to just leave bc thats talking back or some shit and he just gets al up into my space and breathes down my back

And who cares what fanfic peole say that shit is unconfortable and i d o n o t like it and he just laughs and doens trespect that im unconfortable with that much contact from him?? Like ive had teachers inthe past that are older and male and they just get into my space like rn i havfe one that just /stares/ at girls boobs (oh no i said the b word whats tumblr gonna do fight me?) and he dows that to me and im just like pleas eno and he makes me talk to him after class when i dont to an assignment and doesnt let my friends come to ya know keep me safe and its jsut so unfonfortable

Oh eyah im bioLoGicAlY a girl and honeslty im a girl most of the time so eyah but sitll plz odont stare at me its like a tick

Anyway back to my dad

My mom decided it would be a good idea to take us to family councaling and im like sure bc my councerer is super helpful but anyway after the first session and we just reviewed how are lives were and why we were there my dad was like

Well this is usper unhelpful i mean -counceler- is jsut making us talk like we normally do but -my deadname- cant run away

Oh yeats another thing he thinks that i run away when i just take a second to breathe and colelct my thoughts but noNoOOoOooOO i havfe to stay steeming until i explode and yell

In wich case helll get mad at me for yelling but whatefver

Anyway i tried explaining that yeah thats basically waht a councerer/ therapist is, they help you figure out what needs to be done and they cant do taht without background or you being open to it

That was a few weeks ago and last week he waws like??? Its stupid that we cant just talk like htis on our own??

And im just like what? So waht? -counceler- hellps us stay on the right track and keeps us from snapping at eachother?? Who cares if we cant talk normaly at home with serious discussions, hwere its easier bc we have an outside source and that just helps in a why i dont think he understands

Hmm anything else i need to rant about?

Oh yeah ok so im sick rn and i had to cancel tutering and im prepairing for finals and im rlly stressed bc he would help me a l o t but nooOOOO my imune system wants me to die or whatever

Its nothing sirious dont worry just a cold

And in language we have this shitty presentation with no speeker notes and its like four minutes long and idk what i have to do bc ya know i was ogne on the day they assigned it (yesterday bc i was sick) and im to anxious to ask and none of my friends have the same topic as me and the topics define the deadline and its due to morrow and i have so much work to do (lol laurens interlude am ii right)

Ahyway thats it i think

#rant #homework #parents

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iconaccounting · 4 years

Text

All that’s Crypto, Ain't Gold | Cryptocurrencies

As members of the human race, we're always looking for signs, particularly from markets. Are equities likely to rise or fall? What’s going to happen with interest rates? What about the value of the Euro?

When it comes to cryptocurrencies, the same questions nag at us: Bitcoin, for example, just hit an all-time high. So, what does this mean, if anything? Seeing as there are more than 800 cryptocurrencies out there, we need some guidance.

One view is that Bitcoin prices reflect general anxiety and uncertainty over the U.S. and global economic situations. While corporate earnings and stock prices remain strong, are Bitcoin investors seeing something the rest of us aren't?

There are plenty of reasons to thread carefully on cryptocurrencies, as there are numerous concerns on how the currency trades. According to a recent piece by Bloomberg:

“Even as investors are lured by their price gains and volatility, the biggest institutions are reluctant to get in, raising further concerns about liquidity.

On June 21, Ether crashed to 10 cents from $317.81 in trading on Coinbase. The cause was a single $12.5 million trade—one of the biggest ever—that triggered further selling. It all happened in just 45 milliseconds, after which computer algorithms started buying, driving prices back up to $300 within 10 seconds. Some digital coin exchanges have collapsed or customer funds have disappeared. All of which is scaring away the very investors the exchanges need to succeed.”

Here are five questions to ask when investing in cryptocurrencies:

- What is the price based on? Do you understand the code behind pricing the currency? Few do. That's always been a stumbling block for me. I think the investing public needs much more background on how the currencies are valued and the blockchain technology behind them.

- What benchmarks can it be compared to? With stock prices, we have lots of benchmarks such as the Dow 30 and S&P 500 Index going back decades. That shows us relative levels. Bitcoin only has a short history, so we have few tools to show comparative values.

- Why do you want to invest in Bitcoin? While I can see the innovative logic in wanting to get away from traditional paper currencies, keep in mind that while actively traded, there's almost no regulation of cryptocurrencies. That may change soon, but even then, no one knows what effect this regulation will have on the asset class.

Cryptocurrencies could be manipulated in many ways. And they may or may not be a good way to save for your rainy day. Since regulation is forthcoming, that's one of the reasons I would wait before I invest.

- Cryptocurrencies may not be a hedge. As this is a relatively new asset class, and we have no benchmark, then how do we apply traditional investment theories? Traditionally, precious metals like gold have been a hedge against inflation and the decline of the dollar. When the cost of living goes up, so does the price of gold. But with inflation low and the dollar relatively strong, Bitcoin may not be an effective hedge. It may be more of an anxiety index.

- Do you know the downside of Bitcoin? Like any other traded entity, it goes up and down in price—a lot. A few years ago, it shed over 90% of its value. If you want stability, this most certainly not the kind of thing you want in your portfolio.

The bottom line is that if you want to invest in a cryptocurrency, don't load up on it. While it will take some time to understand how it performs over time, it's best to be cautious!

#Accountancy firms in Ireland #Accountants in Ireland #Accountancy services in dublin #top accounting firms in ireland #Accounting services in Ireland

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tinypeckers · 7 years

Text

What crime does on its day off (1/?)

Pairing(s): AH OT6 (JeremyxRyanxGeoffxJackxGavinxMichael), Killems (ElysexAdamxJames)

Words: 2,181

AO3

Summary: The Fake AH Crew retreat after their failed heist and the do the only thing they can do:Indulge Jeremy and embrace their tourist status. (Now with added Funhaus!)

A/N: Co-Written with @forensicbec

The Fake AH Crew shoved their way through crowds of people as they emerged from London Bridge station. Geoff had his arm around Jack’s shoulders, mumbling to her about how the plan should have worked if only they’d just blended in. Jack gestured to the rest of crew. They were each wearing their own “I heart London” sweaters, with the exception of Ryan who hung back desperately trying to rub off the Union Jack face paint Jeremy had given him in his sleep.

“Well, at least we’re blending in now,” Jack said. Geoff rolled his eyes and muttered something about how it doesn’t matter now.

“Why’re we here? London Bridge is naff,” Gavin knocked shoulders with a commuter desperately trying to enter the overcrowded station. Jeremy linked their arms together and pulled Gavin close,

“Because we’re in London and it’s a bridge, y’know, of London,”

“If it was so important, why did we go to five other stations beforehand?” Michael said.

“How was I supposed to know that there wasn’t an elephant or a castle. At least this one actually has a bridge.”

“But it is literally just a bridge!” Gavin’s head fell back against his shoulders.

“Ah, but it’s not just a bridge,” said a gentleman dressed as the grim reaper. Michael had only seconds to think before he had an armful of Gavin Free.

“Flippin’ heck,” Gavin cursed. The actor in front of them smirked at the response he’d elicited. Michael glared at his boyfriend but kept a firm grip as the actor stepped closer to their group.

“The London Bridge has been around for many years and it’s filled with dark secrets of war, fire and even death!” The actor leaned further forward. Ryan only snorted.

“Sounds like a Tuesday,” he said. The actor raised an eyebrow at him but pressed on,

“You can take a trip through time and learn all of the gruesome details at the London Bridge Experience,” the actor continued. Jeremy sucked in a breath, ready to turn to Geoff and beg to go. Before even one word could tumble from his lips, Geoff sighed.

“Fine,” he said.

The actor perked up and pushed a leaflet into Geoff’s hands.

“If you look behind me you’ll see the box office, where you can pick up your tickets. They’ll give you directions to the attraction but be warned – it’s scaAaAaAry.” The actor waggled their fingers and smiled at the group. Geoff simply pushed past him, leading Jack and the rest of his crew across the street. Ryan stopped by the actor, glaring down at him through streaks of red, white and blue.

“Are there any stairs?” Ryan asked. The actor swallowed and slowly shook his head. Ryan suddenly beamed, patting the man on the shoulder and briskly walking to catch up to the others. On the other side, Michael finally dropped Gavin down onto the ground.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Geoff? We all know how much of a scaredy-cat you can be.” Michael nudged his boss’ arm with the most devilish grin painted upon his face.

“I’m fine, I’m the biggest crime boss in Los Santos I’m not going to lose it because of a shitty attract-“

Geoff shrieked the end of his sentence as a woman popped up from behind the counter.

“’Ello loves, how can I help you?” She didn’t seem to notice the pamphlet shaking in Geoff’s hands.

Under his breath Jeremy whispered,

“Oh my god, she sounds like Gavin.” Gavin slapped the back of his hand, scowling down at the small little smile Jeremy graced him with in return.

“We’d like to get tickets to the London Bridge Experience please,” Jack pushed Geoff out of the way to lean on the counter.

“Of course my loves, what time?” The woman’s fingers tapped over a keyboard.

“Oh, well, let me check,” Jack looked down at the new sparkly watch Geoff had bought her just yesterday that matched her new earrings. “It’s 11am,” she said. The woman looked back, puzzled.

“Yes, I know but what time would you like to take the tour?” She asked. Jack’s mouth opened in realisation. She let herself laugh at her own stupidity as Geoff cackled in the background. He choked on his laughter after a swift heel to the nuts.

“When’s the next tour?” Jack smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t castrated her own boyfriend. The woman before her chose to ignore it but the slight smirk on her lips suggested she saw.

“Oh, it’s actually in about fifteen minutes. Would you like to buy tickets to that one?” Jack nodded at the lady. The faster they did this the faster Jeremy would shut up. “Well, for six of you it will cost £19.99 per person, so it will cost £119.70 for your whole group.” Behind Jack, Geoff mouthed the price and grabbed Jack’s wrist for support. The lady continued, “you can also opt for the ultra fast pass which includes a personalised gift and souvenir for only £30.00 more per person!” Jeremy turned to Geoff, his eyes wide and already watering as he prepared the longest, most affectionate declaration of love in an attempt to get their boss to agree. Geoff didn’t wait to hear it and with one shake of the head, it was decided.

“We’ll just take the normal tickets please,” Jack said. The woman started to tell them about some other offers they could take but she was shot down.

“Okay, the final price is £119.70 then for your whole group,” she beamed.

Geoff was having trouble breathing as Jack pulled out his credit card to pay for it all. Gavin, in an effort to make up for yesterday’s disaster, nudged Jack out of the way.

“Well love,” Gavin pulled his golden glasses down just slightly so that she could see his dazzling eyes, “’m sure that you could give us a better deal than that, knock off a few bob for us,” Gavin purred.

“Bloody Americans, always mocking us,” she muttered before composing herself, “No, sorry. This is the best deal I can give you.” Gavin stumbled backwards into Michael’s arms. Michael looked down at him as Gavin stared straight up and looked right through him.

“Are you alright there Gav?” Michael tried to get him stand upright. Gavin lay limp in his arms.

“S-S-She called me American,” Gavin spat.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Michael glanced towards Jack as she collected their tickets.

“It’s the worst thing she could call me Michael!”

“Fuck you,” Michael dropped his boyfriend.

Jack turned around at that point and raised an eyebrow as Gavin sat up and rubbed his arse.

“Michael, Gavin – stop fighting or you’ll have to go back to the hotel,” Jack said.

“Oh thank god,” Michael turned on his heel, ready to leave. Jeremy snatched up his hand and held him back. He dragged Michael along behind Jack as she led the way to the attraction’s entrance.

“It’ll be fun, Michael,” Jeremy reassured but Michael wasn’t convinced. If only there had been an elephant and a castle, they wouldn’t have to drag Geoff around the scary attraction.

“Yeah, Michael it’ll be fun,” Gavin prodded Michael’s shoulder. Michael shook him off.

“I give it five minutes until you’ve wet your pants, Ryan’s punched an actor and Geoff’s on a plane back to Los Santos,” Michael said.

“I’m not scared Michael,” Gavin said.

Under the bridge, where the attraction’s entrance lay, they were greeted with some eerie children’s rhyme. Michael didn’t miss the way Gavin suddenly took a hold of his hand, squeezing just slightly as the music grew louder. Geoff was actively trying to pull away from Jack, muttering “no, no, no,” underneath his breath. Jeremy dropped Michael’s hand to grab Ryan’s instead and the pair danced along to the eerie tune. At the entrance, Geoff’s protests picked up and he was leaning away from Jack with all of his might.

“Geoff you can do this, it’s just a tour. You’re the biggest crime boss in Los Santos, remember?” Jack said. Geoff shook his head wildly side to side.

“That doesn’t matter here Jack, that man said it was gonna be scAaAaAry and you and I know, I don’t do scary.” Jack shoved him inside, moving him towards the ticket booth. She glanced backwards to check they were all still there.

Gavin and Jack boxed Geoff in and kept him in one place as Jack handed their tickets over.

“Oh, looks like we’ve got two big groups going on this tour today. That’s good, less of a chance you’ll get picked, eh.” The teenager behind the ticket booth said. Jack nodded, thankful that Geoff stood a chance at surviving the tour. She pushed him through the turnstile and instantly regretted it.

“Jack, Jack – what the fuck is that? Why is it looking at me?” Geoff tried to run past her and back through the turnstile but Jack stood firm and pushed him forward.

“It’s just a puppet Geoff, it can’t hurt you. It’s not going to hurt you,” Jack said though even she shivered as she walked past it. Gavin buried his head in Michael’s shoulder as they walked through. Jeremy admired the puppet and pointed it out to Ryan. Ryan smiled at it.

“So where’s this other group then,” Michael said as he leaned against the wall. Gavin tucked himself against his side, “I bet they’ve chickened out.”

Barely seconds after the accusation had left his lips, their ears perked up as the other group entered.

“Did we all make it? Let’s see: Elyse, James, Lawrence, Bruce, Peake? Where’s Peake?” Adam cupped his hands over his mouth yelling, “Peake!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Peake stepped past James and Elyse so that Adam could see him.

“Oh thank god, I thought we’d lost you,” Adam wrapped his arms around Peake’s shoulders and pulled him close. The teenager in the ticket booth cleared his throat,

“Could I see your tickets, sir?” He asked. Adam pulled away from Peake and clapped his hands together.

“Of course…” Adam looked at Elyse, “tickets?” The blonde woman shook her head.

“Not me, I thought Bruce had them,” she looked up at Bruce who threw both hands to the side and shrugged.

“I thought James had them,” Bruce said but even James shook his head and pat down his pockets.

“Here,” Peake slipped the teenager their tickets.

They eventually made it through the turnstile and Adam walked backwards as he explained to his crew that this was the best thing that they could do since their plans had fallen through.

“Look, we’re criminals in England with nothing to do, we might as well blend in and do touristy things,” He almost tripped over his own foot as he tried to follow the winding path of the queue.

“You’re not doing a very good job of it, look at you, you look like shit!” Geoff jabbed an accusing finger in their rival crew’s direction. Adam shrieked and fell backwards, toppling into Michael’s unwilling arms. The Jersey man groaned as he pushed Adam off of him.

“Seriously? Is this how it’s gonna be?”

“What are you guys doing here?” Elyse grabbed Jack’s hand and kissed her knuckles, “nice earrings!” Jack pushed her earlobe forward to give Elyse a better look.

“Michael got them for me at the Tower of London, aren’t they beautiful?” Jack said. James rubbed circles around Adam’s back, whispering reassurances into his boyfriend’s ear.

“Tower of London? We were going to head there to steal the crown jewels but it’s been on lock down since yesterday,” Bruce said. Jack quickly glanced towards the teenager in the ticket booth but was relieved to see he’d slipped some earphones in.

“Yeah, well, it’s because we were there to steal the crown jewels.” Geoff puffed up his chest.

“Oh cool, did you get them?” Bruce raised his eyebrow in Geoff’s direction. Geoff deflated.

“No because Gavin just had to have some stupid golden gun.”

“Ah, well, we’ll get them next time.” Bruce smirked.

“Shame we didn’t get to go though, I quite enjoy all that historical stuff,” Lawrence said.

It was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly Jeremy was upon him, jumping up and down on the spot as he pulled out Michael’s phone.

“Aw man, you missed out – it was so, so awesome like there was a gun dragon, a gun dragon! And, and like, I watched this thing right, you’ll never believe who managed to breach the tower.” Lawrence listened with the occasional nod, entranced by Jeremy’s re-enactment of the day. His boyfriends were less enthused and at times, Ryan mouthed along with Jeremy’s words as he knew the account by heart. Before Jeremy could explain how badly their heist had failed, the tour guide had come to collect them. She slunk through the shadows and then suddenly appeared. As Geoff and Adam screamed in unison, Michael found himself once again carrying Gavin.

“You’ve got to stop this, dude,” Michael said. Still, he carried Gavin through to the next room.

#ahot6 #killems #fanfic #series #criminals on tour #forensicbec

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