#is it too tacky to say 'good post op' about your own post?

[lonelygodscompanion]

#is it too tacky to say 'good post op' about your own post? #Psych #Shawn Spencer #Burton Guster #Shawn x Gus #psych usa #psych tv #my post

[20dollarlolita]

So completely hypothetically, if someone were to make a jsk with their betta fish on it would making life size polymer clay fish to work into a headpiece for the coord pull it too tacky or still be within acceptable ott standards?

First things first, we should establish what betta fish look like. Yes. This is just me posting my boys.

This is Steve.

This is Casper and Casper’s Giant Blue Tumor.

This guy is Bo The Outrageously Blue

This is Cinco, who could not swim.

And in the bottom left is Twister.

That’s not all the betta that I’ve had (Not pictured includes Fierce Mango, Mr Tipsy, the State of Geofferson, and several others) but we’re not technically here for me to share about my betta fish. We’re here to talk about lolita. I just miss all my boys and I want to post them.

So, how OTT is OTT and is it too TT if it’s not about a traditionally OTT T Thing?

I’m sort of feeling like that’s the actual question. To people who aren’t super familiar, betta fish aren’t huge. A really big betta with a lot of tail still probably isn’t bigger than the palm of your hand, so OP isn’t asking about putting lifesize common goldfish on their bonnet.

So, here we are on another episode of How Do I Know If I Can Get Away With This?

What we’re talking about today is scale. You need to look at existing coordinates and concepts, and see if any of those can easily be adapted into OTT lolita.

Today, we’re going to do our research from someplace new: Instagram. We’re using Instagram because 1) we need coordinate shots, not shots of stock images, 2) we need actually good lolita, 3) Instagram is public and so I can share thumbnails of the images on this blog, and it’s self-attributing so I don’t need to track down the original owner of the picture 4) the newest GLB that I own is from 2013 and doesn’t have any good pictures of OTT sweet. So we’ll pull up the #ottsweetlolita tag and take a look.

I’m basing this solely on instagram search results. If any of these people are controversial in the community, please let me know, and I’ll alter this post. All of the images here are intentionally small; I wanted to include them so that you could understand what image goes with what commentary, but you should click through to the original post and actually see what’s going on there. I’m not trying to host their images here; i’m trying to link to their art, and the thumbnails are just for context.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Byj7H44IkD2/

by https://www.instagram.com/poppynoir/

This is a really good image of OTT accessorization. You’ve got lots of clunkier accessory pieces working together here. Some of them are as large as the motifs on the dress, which keeps a really good balance. She also has them arranged in such a way that there’s no void areas that lack detail and feel empty.

This coordinate shows that having details the size of a live betta fish is possible, as long as there is a balance of similarly-scaled details present in many elements of the coordinate.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8LozotHrr2/

by https://www.instagram.com/genesisoftheend/

Here’s another detail shot that I picked due to the scale. One of the things that makes this coordinate really work is the wig. The wig isn’t voluminous, but the color keeps it consistent. Remember what I was saying about void areas? If the entire coordinate is highly detailed in a limited color pallet, using your natural hair can cause your hair to be a void area. Her star ring doesn’t 100% matchymatch the motifs on the dress, but it works due to its scale and the color match. The most contrasting thing is the pink bow, which stands out and kind of pulls your eye away from the limited color pallete. It works like well-placed punctuation.

If you’re working with 3D lifelike figures, being aware of that punctuation/focus detail element is very important. If you have only one fish, you need to be able to use it as punctuation and build your background onto that. You’ll need the same amount of detail and items, but be aware that keeping those details just slightly more limited and restrained than the focus detail can prevent it from getting lost.However, all that other detail is absolutely necessary for OTT. If you have a coord like the pictured one, but pull back the detail to just the JSK, a simple blouse, and the headbow, and then stick that pink bow onto the headbow, and it’ll look out of place and extreme. If you have a plain blouse and headbow with your JSK and then you stick a realistic fish on it, it’ll look super weird, especially because bows are established lolita concepts and betta fish are not.

.https://www.instagram.com/p/B8J8WOmn-Sp/

by https://www.instagram.com/aminah_hime/

I hadn’t ever seen this before today and it’s officially very quickly become my favorite Honey Cake coord ever.

You know how the last two were about balance? This one is also about balance. All of lolita is about balance, texture, and scale. And today, they’re balancing the scale.

Check out how the wig’s twintails frames the large headbow and the two smaller side bows. It surrounds them, and makes it so that even though they’re large, they’re not the largest thing. Having all the scale balanced like that allows her to have larger details up at the top of the coord. They don’t stick out and they’re not lost.

This coord also uses the dotted sweater and the striped socks, which are both the same color but are different patterns, to get more details into it without losing the balance of color. It’s just utter genius and I love it so much. A lot of the O T-ing of the T here is based in using large prints and large scale, in addition to balancing those colors in continuous lines. There’s black ankle socks, black wrist cuffs, and a black scarf. Next to each is a red ad white pattern that leads back into the yellow dress. The hair accessories do the same thing, with the wig’s color coordinating with the dress and keeping that balance of color throughout the whole thing.

.

OTT isn’t easy to pull off. You need all the right details, in the right places, in the right amount, and next to other details that feed back into the coordinate and make a coherent look.

So yeah, fish-sized details, constructed well, that coordinate well in color with the JSK and all the other accessories, in balance with the right wig or hair style, and heavily supported by other lolita accessories and motifs that link your fish back into your JSK, can work.

However, as you seem to be aware, just throwing fish onto a coordinate without any backing, with poor balance of detail and color and scale, will make you look like you have a freakin’ fish on your head.

You might also want to check out feedback for OTT coordinates where people wear swans or other animal motifs on their heads.

#long post #ask #answer #anonymous

[hermannsthumb]

75, but kinda like a secuel to your fic for 3?

halloween is over which means it’s officially that time of year where i watch a bunch of shitty hallmark movies as background noise and imagine newt and hermann in all the romantic scenarios instead........AND revisit all my leftover winter ficlet prompts from last year! the op of the original prompt list has since moved to pillowfort so i’ll link the list from there instead. this one is a sequel to one i wrote last year (one of my favorites of my own imo) w/ cool uncle hermann and hot single middleschool science teacher newt found here

75. our first date is spent walking around our small town holding hands and talking as soft snow falls around us 

from winter writing prompts here

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

It gets dark before long, and--following a quick text from Karla informing Hermann she’s finished her errands and is on her way to pick the three of them up--Hermann decides he ought to round up her kids. The string lights hung around the ice rink have flickered to life, and between them, the haze of the falling snow, and the fresh piles of it gathering atop the nearby pine trees, it makes for a strangely pretty picture.

The snow flecking Dr. Geiszler’s eyelashes makes for a pretty picture, too.

“I’ll get them,” he says, when Hermann stretches his stuff limbs with a groan and prepares to trek back across the snow. He stills Hermann with a hand to his arm. He’s still wearing the silly mittens. “No offense, dude, but they’ll definitely listen to me more than you.” He waggles his eyebrows and gestures to himself with his thumb. “Teacher.”

Hermann nods and sags back against the railing. He wasn’t fancying the idea of shaking life back into his frozen joints and shouting himself hoarse anyway. “Thank you, Dr. Geiszler.”’

“Newt,” Geiszler corrects with a wink. “You wanna hang back with me so we can get that coffee? My apartment’s only a few minutes away, I can give you a ride to your sister’s afterwards.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Geiszler to make good on his invitation. Hermann isn’t the sort who gets asked out on spur-of-the-moment dates, especially not by cute, scruffy strangers; it seemed too good to be true.

“Be a second,” Geiszler says, and then cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, “Hey, guys, over here in five minutes or you’re on lab clean-up duty for all of January!”

This gets their attention. Fast. After a minor setback involving a missing hat (found, as it were, in a snowbank on the other side of the railing), they’re ready to go with time to spare when Karla’s car pulls up at the curb. She rolls down the passenger window while her children (pushing aside shopping bags and flinging in wet coats) clamber into the backseat, and waves at Hermann. “Did you have fun?” she says.

“Oh, loads of it,” Hermann says, sarcastically. Karla grants him a small, amused smile. (You’d be hard-pressed to get much more out of a Gottlieb, really. Hermann often envies her children for how easily mirth comes to them.)

“Well, your torture is over at last,” Karla says. “Get in. I got Indian takeaway for dinner.”

Behind Hermann, Geiszler coughs, and Hermann flushes. He hadn’t forgotten Geiszler--not by any means--but he’s not quite sure how to explain I have a date to his sister in terms that don’t use the word date. Date carries an awful lot of baggage. “Ah, actually,” he says. His voice sounds falsely casual even to his own ears. “That won’t be--necessary. Dr. Geiszler has offered to take me home.”

“Hi,” Geiszler says.

Karla peers around Hermann and narrows her eyes. “You played the piano at the winter program,” she says.

“Sure did,” Geiszler says. “I organized the whole thing, too.”

“Dr. Geiszler is going on a date with Uncle Hermann,” Hermann’s niece informs her mother solemnly. 

“It’s coffee,” Hermann says quickly. “Only coffee.”

“Coffee and a ride back on my motorcycle,” Geiszler confirms.

Motorcycle? Karla nods slowly. “Of course.” The window rolls back up, but not before--like he’s still her kid brother, and she’s caught him sneaking out the back door at midnight to meet up with a boyfriend all over again--she calls out “Don’t stay out too late, Hermann!”

Her car peels away.

Geiszler sticks out his hand. Hermann takes it.

The coffee shop Geiszler takes him to is two blocks away on main street, kitschy and tacky as anything from the outside, and has, predictably, closed early by the time they get there. The sign in the window blames it on the inclement weather. Geiszler scuffs his unlaced boot against the snowy sidewalk and groans. “Well, fuck,” he says. “Sorry. I guess there’s always Starbucks. This place rocks, though, I wanted you to see it.”

Hermann gives his hand a consolatory squeeze. “Oh, I don’t need coffee, anyway,” he says. “The cup you bought me at the rink was just fine.”

“The cup I bought you at the rink tasted like shit,” Geiszler says.

“It was fine,” Hermann says.

“Dinner, then,” Geiszler says, peering up the street at whatever still has its lights on. Most of the businesses, Hermann realizes (from the Indian place Karla ordered from, the antique shop, the used bookstore) have closed early tonight. There’s a single diner, equally kitschy-looking, still lit up with neon. “Do you like…” He hums. “...Hamburgers?”

“Not particularly.”

“Neither do I,” Geiszler admits. “What about--”

“How about we just take a walk, Dr. Geiszler?” Hermann cuts across. “I’m really not that hungry, and it’s...a nice night.” It is, really: fluffy snow, and old-fashioned lamp posts, and not a car in sight. Geiszler’s rainbow flappy hat and lumpy mittens. 

“It’s Newt, dude. Newt,” Geiszler insists, but he links their arms together with a smile.

They make their way back down to the park that houses the skating rink--now also closed for the night--and start down a small, well-lit path. “So what’s the infamous Uncle Hermann doing in all the way over here?” Geiszler says. “The kids said you teach in England.” He nudges their shoulders together and grins. “You don’t exactly sound like a local, anyway.”

“Winter holiday,” Hermann says. “I’ve a month off of work, and nothing to do with myself, really, and I don’t see my sister all too often--well, she thought it’d be good for us if I came to stay. For me. What’s a scientist doing at a middleschool hosting winter programs?”

Geiszler laughs. “The arts are important, man!”

“But a middleschool--out of everything you could be doing--”

“I like it,” Geiszler says. “It’s--I don’t know. Fun. I like teaching kids. Like I’m shaping scientists of the future or whatever.” Hermann hums, skeptically, and Geiszler sticks his tongue out. “Okay, I know that was corny. Shut up.”

They loop the whole of the park, hand-in-hand, and talk about the most inconsequential things: the weather (the first snowfall Hermann’s witnessed this December), their research (Geiszler is astoundingly intelligent, with a comical amount of PhDs), Geiszler’s mittens (personally hand-knitted after all), how much longer Hermann is in town for (until mid-January), how Geiszler ended up at that middleschool in the first place (he moved to town to be near his father, and they were hiring for Earth Science and Music). Their footprints have entirely disappeared under fresh snow when they make it back to the ice rink. It’s far later than Hermann realized, too; the large clock hanging at the front booth reads a quarter past ten.

“I guess I should take you back to your sister’s,” Geiszler says. He points in the opposite direction of where they walked main street before. “I’m down that way. I--”

He doesn’t get to finish, because Hermann (feeling pleasant and bold) leans in and brushes a kiss against his cheek. It’s cold and scratchy with his stubble. “I would like to do this again,” Hermann says, while Geiszler blushes and gapes. His glasses have slid all the way down his nose. Hermann pushes them back up for him. “If you’re amenable.”

“Wow,” Geiszler says, giddily. “Sure. Okay. Hah!”

Then he steps directly onto a patch of ice and slips and falls on his face.

Luckily, he hits the snow, though he does lay there for some time and groan. It’s a bit dramatic. Hermann pokes the small of his back with his cane once he starts to get bored. “Are you alright, Newt?”

Geiszler groans again, though with a distinctly affirmative flair, and rolls over. “You called me Newt,” he says. He pushes his glasses back up again.

“I did,” Hermann says, with a very small smile. Then he shivers. The chilly air has gotten a lot more noticeable now that he’s standing still. “Now please get up and take me home before we both freeze to death.”

“Cool, okay.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #feel free to send some in lmaoooo we've got 2 months #benito-el-gato-con-gorrito

[famedexclusivearchive]

Filming for the third and final filming block (episodes nine through fourteen) of Shared Home has begun! Below, you’ll find the tasks for this four week period. These four episodes will revolve around the main cast celebrating the holidays, opening up more to one another, and saying farewell.

This post is quite long, but it is divided into information for the main cast and information for muses not in the main cast, so that you can find the information most pertinent to your muse(s).

Reminder: Shared Home has begun airing on SBS. Cast members are allowed to share photos and posts on social media about the show, but since the show will be airing several weeks behind filming, they are not allowed to post any content that will spoil details of the events of the show.

Note: Since there are quite a few people on hiatus for the holidays, I’ve extended the deadline an extra week again for this block and spread the events of the block out over four weeks instead of three, so everyone will have four weeks to earn points.

As always for events, please don’t feel pressured to complete more than you’re able to. Main cast members are encouraged to try to do at least a thread or two per filming block, but you won’t be penalized if you’re not able to!

HOUSE INFORMATION | ROOMMATE INFORMATION

FOR MAIN CAST:

Shoot Week One & Two (Dec. 15 - 28):

On December 16 (at a time not conflicting with ISAC filming for applicable muses) , the cast members of each house will film the music video for a cast Christmas song with them singing the song in their respective cast house with their own house mates (like the linked music video, but interacting with the cameraperson around their assigned house) and in front of red and green colored backdrops. This means there will be two versions of both the song and music video: one for each house. Both videos will be released on December 23 as a promotion for Shared Home. Assume the song was recorded earlier around individual muse’s availability. There is no official canon line distribution for this song, but assume each muse recorded for the parts matching their position or soloist type and each muse gets at least one line in the final song with main positions and soloists generally getting more than sub-positions.

From December 22 through the end of filming, each house will be decked out in winter decorations. This will include a (fake) Christmas tree through December 31, at which point the tree will be removed from the house, though the general winter decorations with remain. The base of the decorations, including the Christmas tree, have been put up by production, but cast members are free to add additional decorations to their house.

During the shoot week of December 22 to December 28, cast members will have chance to have their family meet their housemates. All cast members with a parent or parents or other close relative (grandparent(s), aunt/uncle, siblings, etc.) living in Korea will have an optional invitation extended to have said relative visit the house with transportation paid for by production if necessary. The cast member will be aware if their family is coming at least a week beforehand, but the time will be kept secret to keep an element of surprise. For cast members with relatives living in Asia, but outside of Korea, the production budget will pay for up to two round trip economy class plane tickets to surprise a cast member. Cast members without any close relatives or without any close relatives within Asia will not be offered this chance, but are expected to be cordial to their house mates’ relatives if applicable. The invitation is free to be declined by the relative(s), though production will encourage their participation for the feel good content for the show.

Shoot Week Three (Dec. 29 - Jan. 4):

House One Only: On December 29th, all main cast members of House One who do not have other schedules will be filmed attending Lipstick’s Prima Donna encore concert at Olympic Gymnastics Stadium to support cast mate Minnie. Tickets in the VIP section and backstage passes have been arranged for all House One cast members free of charge through an agreement between BC Entertainment and SBS.

House Two Only: On December 29th, all main cast members of House Two who do not have other schedules will be filmed attending BEE’s Winter Party concert to support cast mate Jiah. Tickets in the VIP section and backstage passes have been arranged for all House Two cast members free of charge through an agreement between BC Entertainment and SBS.

On January 2, the two houses will throw a two part New Year’s party. This time, instead of decorating for their own party, each house will be tasked with going out and buying decorations for the other house. They will then be given two hours total on January 2 to decorate the other house while the other house’s residents are decorating theirs. Humorous results by way of tacky or comedic decorations are anticipated, but cast members may choose to play nice, too.

The party will begin at 9PM at House One before the whole cast and cameo guests move to House Two at 10:30PM to discover the decorations there as well and continue the party. Cameo guests still around will be asked to leave around midnight. This party will be less formal than the housewarming party during the first week of filming, in a way the producers hope will demonstrate the increased comfort between house mates. There will be wine and champagne available during the party in the spirit of the new year for cast members who would like it, but each cast member will be limited to one glass and production will intercede with anyone who tries to go overboard.

Shoot Week Four (Jan. 5 - 11):

The final week of filming is set to be a warm and sentimental one. On January 7, 9, and 10, different arrangements of volunteers (mixing those from both houses as well as cameo guests) will be tasked with delivering coal briquettes around neighborhoods outside of their own in need of them.

Cast members will also be tasked with writing a farewell letter to their house mates at the beginning of this week that they should complete and pin to a cork board in the kitchen for their house mates to read by the end of the week. They will be filmed on their own reading the letter to the camera, which will likely be used as narration, but they are not required to read the letter directly to their house mates themselves unless they wish to.

The last task the cast members will be given will be to show at least one of their housemates (though more is encouraged) a place or activity close to their heart. A dancer might take their housemate(s) to the dance studio to film a segment or someone who has fond memories of visiting Everland as a kid may take their housemate(s) there. The only places explicitly off limits are locations that are not family friendly and, in order to maintain the concept of everyone being house mates, the cast member’s house or dorm are also off limits. Each cast member will film a short solo visit to said location or doing said activity before taking anyone there.

POINTS AVAILABLE FOR MAIN CAST: 17 points

+2 points (up to 10 points total) - INTERACTIONS: A thread taking place during this filming block with a starter and at least three replies (starter ▻ partner reply  ▻ op reply  ▻ partner reply) by the end of the three week filming period is worth 2 points. This is valid for up to five threads with different muses.

+3 points - SOLO: Writing a self-para of 400+ words taking place at any point during this filming block by the deadline is worth 3 points.

+2 points - SOLO: Writing a farewell letter of 200+ words from the perspective of your muse to their housemates by the deadline is worth 2 points.

+2 points - INTERVIEW: Answering this short interview (during filming week three) in-character is worth 2 points. These will be filmed in an area set off to the side of each house to be filmed with the cast members speaking directly to the camera about their feelings.

None of these will count toward your monthly limits for anything and must be completed and posted in the #fmdsh3 tag by Saturday, January 18 at 11:59PM EST to qualify for points.

FOR NON-MAIN CAST (CAMEO APPEARANCES):

Idols not in the main cast of the show will have a variety of opportunities to appear on-camera for this filming block. The following prompts explain each opportunity.

Opportunity One

Your muse has been requested to make an appearance during the New Year’s party on January 2 during the third shoot week. Details of the party can be found above in the shoot week three section of the main cast’s schedule. The party will go from 9PM to midnight, but guests will not be expected to be there the whole time like the main cast is. Like the main cast, each guest will be limited to one glass of champagne or wine if they choose to drink to avoid anyone getting too messy and production will intercede with anyone who tries to go overboard.

Opportunity Two

Your muse has been requested to make an appearance during the fourth shoot week filming of delivering coal briquettes to give back. Details of this can be found above in the shoot week four section of the main cast’s schedule. Cameos may help out volunteering as many days as they (or their management) would like and as their schedule allows.

Opportunity Three

Your muse has been requested to help film promotional content for the show. This will have been filmed or recorded some time from December 15 - 21. Your muse has been asked to record themselves doing one of the two following options in either audio or video format:

Covering a (family-friendly) snippet of a Christmas or New Year’s song of their choice (this can be a vocal/rap cover or an instrumental cover).

Giving an answer to the question of what “home” means to them.

These recordings will be used to overlay teaser compilations for upcoming episodes of the show to draw in the attention of fans of idols that may not be in the main cast of the show.

POINTS AVAILABLE FOR CAMEOS: 15 points

+2 points (up to 10 points total) - INTERACTIONS: A thread taking place either during the New Year’s Party,or during coal briquette delivery volunteering with a starter and at least three replies (starter ▻ partner reply  ▻ op reply  ▻ partner reply) by the end of the three week filming period is worth 2 points. This is valid for up to five threads with different muses (muses don’t have to be main cast).

+3 points - SOLO: Completing the above holiday cover or “home” prompt in a self-para of 400+ words by the deadline is worth 3 points. (The “home” prompt does not have to be 400+ words answering what home means to them. It can also include them getting ready to record their answer.)

+2 points - INTERVIEW: Answering this short interview in-character is worth 2 points. This will be filmed in their company building during filming week four.

None of these will count toward your monthly limits for anything and must be completed and posted in the #fmdsh3 tag by Saturday, January 18 at 11:59PM EST to qualify for points.

#fmdsharedhome #fmdsh3 #queued post

[seeaddywrite]

stars, hide your fires: chapter five

this chapter is a lot more schmoop than plot, but still important to the overall story. as usual, thanks to @soberqueerinthewild for motivation & listening to me whine & stopping me from repeating myself every other sentence.  

chapter warnings: this doesn’t quite hit explicit territory, i don’t think, but it does come close, so please proceed with caution.

AO3 LINK

chapter index: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 

Michael’s up to his shoulders in the guts of an ancient Volkswagen when Alex pulls into the gravel drive of the junkyard. He’s either so engrossed in his repairs that he doesn’t hear Alex’s approach, or he’s just ignoring it  under the assumption that Alex is just another customer trying to get repairs done even though business hours are over. Guerin’s the best mechanic in town, and though the people of Roswell are quick to dismiss him as the town drunk, they’re just as fast to forget that when their cars start acting up. It’s the sort of double standard Roswell loves: those people will beat a man until he bleeds and come back for a second round, but as soon as they need something, they’ll still expect their victim to bend over backwards for them.

It’s easier to relax now that Alex has Michael in his line of sight, and he exhales slowly as he slides out of the driver’s side of his of his SUV. His eyes linger for a moment on the way Michael’s body fills out the worn denim of his oil-streaked jeans, because he’d have to be dead before he stopped appreciating Guerin’s physique, but he’s not only looking for that, tonight. Sex is fucking fantastic, but he needs to fill a need more basic than that. He needs to feel settled in his skin, to be reminded of the man that he is now, rather than the kid he used to be.

Guerin can’t give him those things; Alex needs to do it himself, and he knows that. But for ten years, Michael’s arms have been the only place Alex has felt safe. While enlisted, he’d been afraid to replay those memories too often for fear he’d wear them out and forget completely, so he’d only allowed himself to think of Michael on the worst days, when he couldn’t pull himself together on his own, and even Michael’s imaginary presence was better the inescapable sense of isolation that came from being the only one who seemed to realize that military action was just another name for evil.

“Alex?” Michael’s in front of him, frowning in a way that suggests he’s been trying to get Alex’s attention for a while. “What’s wrong?” He wipes his palms on the bottom of his t-shirt, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to reach out, but his hands find their way into the pockets of his jeans instead. “The meeting with your brother go bad?” The question is calm, but Alex is too good at reading the other man to miss the way his eyes immediately scan the horizon, as if expecting an army of MPs to descend upon them at any moment.

Alex shakes his head quickly, not wanting to cause any unnecessary fear. “No, no. It went --” He grapples for the right word, and gives up. “Charlie bought the story. He’s reaching out to Flint and Hunter as we speak, so I should have access to the Project within a week, as long as Hunter’s on base and not off comms.” The information comes quick and succinct, a post-op briefing, and Alex looks away afterward. Michael’s not his commanding officer, and Alex knows that, but asking for what he actually wants is harder than it should be now that he’s standing so close to it.

“Okay,” Guerin drawls, batting a rogue curl away from his forehead. “You wanna come inside? I need to change. And probably shower.” He glances down at himself, as if just noticing the mess of oil and sweat masquerading as clothing. “Or you can head to Max’s, and I’ll meet you in an hour -- Isobel’s staying there until all this blows over, and Liz has basically been living there since we brought him back, so dinner’s pretty much an open invitation for a while. You can fill us in, and we can keep planning, maybe come up with some contingencies in case shit goes sideways.”

Normally, the promise of sitting down to dinner with their friends would be a good way to end a shitty day, but right now, Alex wants to have Michael to himself for a while. “Do you think we could go over later?” he asks, squinting into the sun in an effort to meet the other man’s eyes. “I want to go, I just -”

Guerin looks at Alex for a long moment after the sentence trails off, then takes a slow, uncertain step forward. “It seems like you’re asking me for something,” he says finally, his voice quiet and eyes searching. Beneath his gaze, Alex feels like his every insecurity and anxiety is written on his face; no one’s ever seen him like Guerin has, and it used to terrify him that someone could look at him and see the man he is beneath the surface. It’s taken Alex a long, long time to accept himself for the man he is, rather than constantly judging himself against others -- in fact, it’s still a work in progress. But he knows he’s made some, because now, Alex looks at Michael and revels in the fact that someone can know him like that and want to stick around anyway.

“But I don’t know what it is, Alex. You gotta tell me what you want. I’m not the mind-reader, remember?”  

It’s fair. Alex is pretty sure Michael has a pretty good idea of what he wants, or at least a reasonable guess, but they said that they’d talk about the two of them after the mission was complete. Right now, the mission’s barely started, no one is really safe, and they haven’t talked about anything. It’s probably wrong for Alex to do this, to show up here looking for refuge without any explanation or attempt to ask permission, but he can’t bring himself to leave, either. So instead, he swallows, and closes the short distance remaining between their bodies.

His palms land on either side of Michael’s face, and Alex tilts his head to rest their foreheads together. Guerin’s skin is tacky against his own, damp with sweat, but Alex barely notices. He just holds Michael there for a minute, wishing, for once, that he could just reach into Alex’s mind and take the explanation from his thoughts. Michael turns to granite against him, still and rigid, but he doesn’t pull away. That’s all the permission Alex needs.

“I spent all day pretending to be someone I’m not,” Alex says with Michael’s breath against his cheek. “And Charlie -- I think he was trying to protect me, and I was manipulating him. And I have to work out how I feel about that, and what comes next, and I just wanted to be somewhere safe to figure all of that out.” The explanation is disjointed, and the emotions connected to it are too, even for Alex; he can feel, but everything is separate, confusing, like images twisted in a kaleidoscope.

“You wanted to be somewhere safe,” Michael repeats, a strange vulnerability in the words that Alex doesn’t understand. “And you came to me?”

Alex blinks, and steps back enough that he can see Michael’s face, but his hands linger on broad shoulders that have suddenly gone tense beneath his touch. “Should I -- not have?” he asks warily, trying to figure out what he’d said to cause this reaction. He’s fairly sure it wasn’t the touching. Guerin seemed fine with that. But how is admitting that he’s always been Alex’s safe place to land a bad thing? Surely he already knew that? “Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No! No, I --” Alex watches as Guerin’s throat works, trying to ignore the way his stomach twists in uncertainty. “I just meant that I haven’t given you any reason to feel safe around me, lately,” Michael says finally, the words blunt and forceful. Again, Alex is left floundering, trying to figure out how the hell they got here when only moments ago, Michael had seemed calm. But now, his expression is shuttered, closing Alex out of his thoughts and leaving him guessing. This isn’t what he’d been expecting when he came here, and part of him wants to shove his fingers in his ears and tell Guerin to stop talking, to leave it until after the mission like they’d agreed, but he knows he can’t. Not unless he’s prepared to turn around and leave, and Alex knows he won’t be able to do that. Walking away from Michael has always been too damn hard, and now, with no good reason, Alex knows it’ll be all but impossible.

“Fuck, Alex, the last time you wanted to talk, I stood you up and went to Maria,” Michael continues, his voice a raw strain of vocal cords. “I lost my shit after Caulfield, and what happened to Max, and you kept bailing me out, and got dragged into all of it -- and now you’re lying to your brother and feeling shitty about it because of me. Don’t you ever think about how much easier your life would be if you just told me to fuck off for good?”

Alex can’t look at Michael anymore, not when he’s talking like that. This day has already worn on him more than he wants to think about, and this conversation is fraught with pitfalls and potential missteps, and Alex knows that he’s not going to be able to navigate it safely. But there’s no way to avoid it now, not without allowing Michael to believe the things he’s saying, and he’s literally sick to his stomach at the thought of it.

“No,” he says bluntly, his fingers digging into Guerin’s shoulders in a pathetic effort to keep the other man close. They’ve talked about Maria and the thought processes that led to Michael in her bed, and Alex doesn’t think they need to discuss it further -- certainly not today, when the thought of the other man with someone would sound far too much like another rejection. So he skips over that, choosing to focus instead on the rest of it.

“I don’t, because easy doesn’t mean shit to me, Michael. Nothing in my life has ever been easy. So if I have to fight for the things that make me happy, then fine. I’ve been fighting other people’s wars for what feels like my entire life. At least I chose to fight for you. And I’m going to keep choosing this fight, whether it makes me feel like I’m losing myself or not, because it’s the right thing to do.”

Alex’s hands slide down Michael’s shoulders to his hands, and he squeezes tightly as he tries to explain himself.  “With them, with Charlie and Flint and everyone on base, I have to play a part. I have to act like a Manes, take orders, and keep my head down, and I’m going to have to do things that I hate. That’s what I signed up for. No one made me do that, and I’m not changing my mind.” He forces a fierce decisiveness into that statement, though it’s not clear whether he’s directing it toward himself or Michael. “I was just really hoping you’d be willing to help remind me who I really am, afterward.”

Allowing himself to be vulnerable isn’t something Alex is particularly good at, but there’s a waver in his voice that he can’t hide, and there’s no uniform or mission talk to hide behind, now. All of his cards are on the table -- what he wants, what he’s going to have to do, why he’s here -- and it’s up to Michael to call or draw.

There’s an achingly long moment in which Alex is sure Michael’s going to brush him off, to pull that damned devil-may-care smirk out of his back pocket and secure it over the naked longing on his face, but he doesn’t. Alex’s eyes slide closed in relief as Michael just nods, and curls a possessive hand around the back of his neck to pull him in. “Sorry,” he mutters, as Alex presses his face into the damp skin of his neck, relief like a cool breeze down his spine. “Max kicked me out of his place earlier because I couldn’t relax and was putting everyone else on edge. I kept thinking about you alone with someone who might hurt you, and --” he shrugs, trailing off with a bitter twist of his lips.

Alex sighs, and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the warm skin beneath his lips. “I’m okay,” he promises quietly.

Michael’s explanation puts his earlier reaction into new perspective, and Alex feels guilty for not understanding sooner. The other man had been against the plan from the beginning, and had only ever agreed because Alex made it clear that no one could stop him. He’s been worried for Alex’s well-being from the start; Max and Liz and the others might know that his family was messed up and hurt him, but Michael knows the details. He understands exactly what this mission could do to Alex, and he wasn’t even allowed to come provide back-up from a distance for the meeting this morning, though he’d lobbied to do so. Of course he’s anxious today, just as Alex would be in his place.

“If we can go inside, I’ll let you check for yourself, if you want,” Alex offers, and wonders how long they’ll last before their clothes are scattered across the small floor of the trailer and their bodies are tangled together. They’ve never been good at spending time alone together in confined spaces without something escalating; the electricity between them is hard to ignore in a room full of people, but once the only eyes on them are that of the walls surrounding them, it’s all but impossible. Sometimes that energy manifests in wandering hands and slick skin-on-skin,  and sometimes, on bad days, it turns into shouting matches and barbed words aimed where they hurt most.

Michael huffs an amused sound against the top of Alex’s head and pulls back, just to join their hands and lead them back toward the trailer. Alex follows easily, and as soon as the door has closed behind them, allows himself to be drawn back into a heated kiss. He gasps into Michael’s mouth in surprise, then finds himself shoved back against the door with hands rucking his shirt up past his stomach before he can get his hands on the other man at all. When he catches up, they land in Michael’s hair, using the grip to angle his mouth better against his own.

Warm, calloused palms move from his abdomen up his chest, and when Alex’s shirt disappears over his head, he tries to follow suit with Michael’s -- but he stops him with a gentle grip on his wrists. It takes him a moment to realize in the fever of the moment that Michael is taking him at his word, checking every inch of exposed skin with his free hand for injury. Alex tips his head back against the wall with a hollow thud and gives himself over to the inspection, trying to catch his breath.

“I told you,” he manages, biting back a moan when Michael’s searching touch slips below the waistband of his pants. “He didn't hurt me, Guerin. I’m okay. I’m here with you, and I’m okay.” Alex’s eyelids slam shut as the fly of his pants is undone, and despite his best effort to calm himself down, he knows exactly what Michael looks like on his knees, and he can’t help but picture it when he hears limbs hit the tin floor. The low-lidded, heavy look in his eyes, the flush that spreads across his cheeks when Alex is naked in front of him, the enthusiasm with which he leans in--

“You’re not gonna stop me?” Michael asks roughly, his breath hot and humid against Alex’s skin.

Alex draws a shuddering breath and opens his eyes, then dips his chin to look at Michael. The image is exactly like he’d pictured it, and lust hits him hard in the stomach. He tamps down on it immediately, and forces himself to ask, “Do you want me to?”  

Guerin shakes his head forcefully enough that his curls fall in his eyes, fingers curling into Alex’s thighs for balance. “I want this,” he says raggedly, pressing a kiss against one exposed hipbone. “I want you, and I’m tired of waiting.”

This isn’t what they had planned, but Alex doesn’t give a shit anymore. Maria and all of the reasons they hadn’t managed to make this work before seem small and far away in comparison to the threat of what they face now -- Alex wants things solidified with Michael, wants to move them from the amorphous something they’d been for the last year to partners in every sense of the word, and if it’s selfish, he’s not sure he cares anymore. If he’s going to survive running with his brothers for any length of time and involving himself in their dirty work with his soul intact, then he needs Michael’s anchoring presence. And maybe it’s hubris, but he’d like to think that need goes both ways.

“No more waiting,” Alex promises, and they lose themselves in the refuge of one another.

It’s hours later, as they’re getting dressed to head to Max’s for dinner, that Alex has to destroy the contented silence between them with painful, gory reality. “Charlie told me I needed to think of a way to prove myself to Flint and Hunter,” he says quietly, pausing in the middle of securing his prosthetic over the stump of his leg. “It’s going to have to be something big, if I want to convince Flint. He told Charlie about Caulfield, that I blew it up on purpose to fuck Dad over or something.”

Michael’s foggy, post-sex look disappears as soon Alex starts talking, and the sharp, intelligent expression that replaces it reminds Alex that while Guerin is usually happy to let others talk over him and consider him the town drunk, there isn’t anyone in Roswell that can match his IQ. “Sounds like you already have a plan,” he says, sliding a clean button-up shirt on over his bare chest. As usual, Michael leaves way too many of the buttons undone, revealing a wide swath of skin.

Alex bites at his lower lip and finishes with his leg before answering. “You’re not going to like it, and Isobel is probably really going to hate me for suggesting it, but I can’t see any other way. Obviously I’m not giving them any of you, and I have to be careful what information I let on that I have, in case it leads back to you.”

A calloused hand cups his chin, forcing Alex to look up at Michael. “Alex. Just tell me what you’re thinking, and we’ll figure it out,” he says firmly, and there’s not an inch of give in the words. Like it’s just that easy. Like it isn’t going to dredge up all sorts of painful memories for everyone involved, like it isn’t disgusting and disrespectful and in direct conflict with every moral that Alex has left.

But Alex has already committed to moving forward with this operation, and unless Michael or one of the others has a better idea, this is all they’ve got. So he drags in a deep breath, rests his palm over the back of Michael’s hand, and asks, “Do you remember where you buried Noah’s body?”

#stars hide your fires #multi-chap #my fic #malex fic

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Drew Barrymore ‘I don’t pretend to be perfect’

Drew Barrymore is back on our screens, this time as a flesh-eating estate agent. She tells Rebecca Nicholson about the endless ups and downs of her life from child star to teen rebel, and savvy producer to business woman and explains why shell fight to the death to be happy

Drew Barrymore walks into the hotel room in Berlin flanked by assistants, caked in heavy TV make-up and wrapped in a brown fluffy jacket that makes her look like a very glamorous teddy bear. Within seconds, the entourage has disappeared, shes wiped every last scrap of foundation from her face and shes rummaging around underneath her dress, a kind of earth mother hippy smock, regretting her decision to wear tights on this sub-freezing day. Why does anyone wear pantyhose? she exclaims, barefaced, faux-exasperated, shifting in her armchair, trying to get comfortable. Theyre so fucking sadistic! Theyre not even control pants, she says, conspiratorially, but Im forcing them to be.

For a lot of women, especially women who grew up between 1982 and the early 2000s, Barrymore is a particular kind of icon. Shes the accessible rebel we all wanted to be, or be friends with. Shes the child star of ET who hit the skids early and hard, and not only survived, but went on to be one of the most popular (and bankable) female stars of the past three decades. She appeared in, and often produced, the kinds of movies that are vital viewing for teenagers, from the trashy taboo-busting rebellion of Poison Ivy, to the triumphant high school romcom Never Been Kissed, to the moody angst of Donnie Darko. Plus, in her 20s, she seemed to hang out with the best bands, go to all the best parties and always looked like she was having the time of her life. She was the manic pixie dream girl before it became a tacky indie film stereotype. The memoir she wrote in 2015 is, appropriately, called Wildflower.

She looks genuinely pleased that she holds such a place in peoples minds, and decides that if people do like her, If anyone has any goodwill towards me, careful not to sound arrogant, its because she extends goodwill to other people. Not in an annoying way, but just, like, being in peoples fucking corners. Its this combination of soft and sharp, all wrapped up in that valley girl lilt, that has carried her through life. I want people to be happy, but I know happiness has to be fought for. Its a warrior trophy. Its not hippy, she insists. Im like, fight. Fight to the death to be happy, and dont kill anyone along the way.

Little riot grrrl: Drew Barrymore with Steven Spielberg at the age of five on the set of 1982s ET. Photograph: Everett Collection/Rex Features

Were in Germany to talk about Santa Clarita Diet, the new Netflix series which has brought her back into the spotlight again at 41. Its a warm and occasionally gross 10-part comedy about Sheila and Joel, estate agents who have been together since their school days, and whose marriage is tested when the amiable Sheila develops a sudden taste for human flesh.

I stopped working to have my kids and take care of them and raise them, and so I was nervous about working again, she says. I was going through a dark time in my own life. And then I read it and I liked it. Now what am I supposed to do? I cant do this right now, its terrible timing, my whole life is falling apart. She ended up executive producing it as well as starring.

That her life was falling apart out of the spotlight was a new thing for Barrymore, who had played out most of her life in a very public sphere. No ones talking about my life. I mean, yes, I had a divorce, but even that was real quiet. She split up with actor Will Kopelman, the father of her two children, Olive, four, and Frankie, two, at the beginning of 2016, but recently posted an Instagram of him running the New York marathon; she was there, with their daughters, to support him. It was like, Oh, they didnt work out, I wonder why? Oh my God they seem like such good friends, and so amicable, I guess well stop giving a shit. I was so happy about that, she says, breezily.

Warm and occasionally gross: Barrymore in Santa Clarita Diet. Photograph: Erica Parise/Netflix

In the midst of her divorce, Santa Clarita Diet was a transformative experience. Ironically, it wasnt the worst timing. It was great. It was really happy. It was a good summer. My daughters and I got to go out to California and I got three days off a week. Just as becoming a proto-zombie saves Sheila from the numbing boredom of domestic life, Barrymore went through her own kind of rejuvenation. I feel like Sheila. I feel like maybe I was dead inside, she says cheerfully, blowing her nose. I dont know. I was in a place in my life where I had gained a lot of weight, and been in a place of fear and sadness, and I felt stuck. I dont think thats so much unlike the character.

Until she took time away from acting to have kids, Barrymore had never not worked. She began her career at 11 months in an advert for dog food, quickly becoming the main breadwinner for herself and her mother, Jaid, who raised her alone. Her father John Barrymore, of the Barrymore acting dynasty The great line of loonies from which I come, as she puts it wasnt around much. Her extraordinary youth was public and well-documented. Her breakout role in ET, at five years old, was followed by an outlandish few years of childhood boozing and drug-taking, rehab and institutions, and the sense that, at 14, she was washed up and her career was over.

But it wasnt. She moved into an apartment by herself, got a job in a coffee shop, learned how to do her own laundry and, eventually, clawed her way back into the business, defeating the curse of the child actor where so many others have been lost. She has said her 20s were a kind of delayed adolescence. Now, in her 40s, shes had a lifetimes worth of parties and experiences, and says she doesnt miss it at all. I dont feel like Im not at the centre of things. I dont worry about career stuff. I dont worry about who the hottest band is or that Im not at that show that night. I dont care if the latest trend is happening and its just passing me by.

Star quality: Barrymore with Cameron Diaz and Lucy Liu in Charlies Angels. Photograph: Image Net

Her idea of a good time these days is taking the girls to Disney World, or setting up movie nights for the kids in my daughters class. I just watched Home Alone and all the moms and I were crying at the end. Oh my God, its so good! I appreciate it now much more than I did when I was younger.

Shes too classy to be drawn into any child actor comparisons it would be patronising, annoying, no thanks, she says, nicely but firmly but we talk more broadly about celebrity scandals. Everyone goes up and goes down. Thats life. Nobody wants all of it looked at and discussed. However, if you do put yourself out there, then you need to be prepared for that to be examined and you have to handle it to the best of your abilities. So for people who are like [she puts on a whiny voice]: Dont look at me you put yourself out there!

Is there any way to avoid being examined and discussed? Not in this day and age. You just try to manage things in the healthiest way you can. And by the way? You wont all the time. Youre gonna fuck up. So fuck up, then pick yourself back up. But just be nice and kind and humble and gracious and have a sense of humour. And dont pretend to be perfect.

Golden girl: winning a Golden Globe for Grey Gardens in 2010. Photograph: NBC/Getty Images

Barrymore dealt with her own initial fuck-ups in an incredible and startling memoir, Little Girl Lost, which she wryly calls, The mea culpa book I wrote when I was 14. She appeared on Oprah with her mother to promote it, to go over what went wrong. You can watch it on YouTube; shes 15 going on 35. Yet the book has a cult following, in part because it makes all the partying she did as a young child sound kind of adventurous. Yeah! Its like an 80s cult tragedy book, which is super cool and wrong and fun all at the same time. Its a little riot grrrl, you know?

Theres a chapter where Barrymore describes being hauled off to an institution at her mothers behest, and shes furious at the starstruck guards. God, youve just yanked me out of my house with cuffs on, I thought, and now youre asking me what it was like to meet ET. What jerks, she writes. Even at 14, she had a disdain for celebrity. Still do, she says, today.

We meet on the afternoon of Trumps inauguration. She plans to watch it later, as shes a total news junkie, but she doesnt particularly want to talk about what she thinks of him. Im not a painter and Im not a musician and I think people dont want to hear it from actors, she says. I read this op-ed in the New York Times that was saying, just do things quietly, in your art.

Slasher: Barrymore in Wes Cravens Scream, 1996. Photograph: Allstar

Barrymore is more about the practical. During her screen break, she wrote Wildflower, which became a New York Times bestseller, and shes built a sizeable business empire, including Barrymore wines, a production company, Flower Films, and beauty brand Flower Cosmetics. All of which channel some of that free-spirit warmth into profits reports suggest shes worth $125m. Theres a line in Santa Clarita Diet where Sheila announces: I sleep two hours a night. I get so much done! It struck me that for Barrymore, spinning so many plates, that might be funny. Actually, she says, it was originally written that Sheila would use her spare time to learn French. Me, in my real life, would spend time learning French. This woman literally has a ticking clock on her mortality. Shed be studying fucking Bruce Lee moves and learning to do shit. The line was changed at Barrymores request: instead of learning a language, Sheila would get the ability to parallel park in one move. Im, like, yes! Thats practical!

Its strange to see Barrymore, who seemed to be an eternal teenager, starring as the mother of a teenager in Santa Clarita Diet, partly because her fame is life-long, and you can see interviews with her at almost every age on YouTube. But, she says, she never watches them, never goes back. Hell no. The only thing I ever think when I see myself when Im younger, if Im on a talk show and Im stuck there having to watch clips, is that I was so much more brassy when I was young. Im like: Where do you get the balls, kid?

She says it as if those balls have disappeared with age. She claims shes much more polite now. Sarcastic, but polite. And worse still, she tries to say shes newly dull. In my life Im just so quiet and boring, she declares, not entirely convincingly. This is Drew Barrymore, after all, who talks with the hunger of someone who will always be on the lookout for something new, whether thats being a mother, a businesswoman, or playing a friendly estate agent who kills and eats bad people. I am pretty boring, she insists. I tell her I dont believe it. She smiles slyly, and leans in. Theres a rebel in her still. Im not sure I believe it either.

Santa Clarita Diet launches on Netflix on 3 February

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