I love fake boyfriends/fake relationship fics. Like a lot. Especially for E/R.
That being said…
I want fake relationship fics were things go terribly wrong. Where Grantaire convinces Enjolras to pretend to date him for whatever stupid reason he comes up with, but instead of realizing his latent feelings, Enjolras realizes Grantaire is being emotionally manipulative and he wants no part of that. Or where Enjolras hires Grantaire to date him but when Grantaire confesses he’s fallen for him, Enjolras rejects him. Or, hell, Enjolras hires Grantaire, falls in love with him, and Grantaire just takes the cash and splits because he’s got better things to do and contrary to popular belief, his entire life doesn’t revolve around Enjolras.
Fake relationships + unhappy endings are really all I want in the world. Because I am a terrible person.
Hey guys. My contribution to Clexakru Positivity Night! I just took these selfies today especially for this when I got in at 2230. Also, seeing as the theme is Snapchat filters I’ve added the only Snapchat filter I have ever done. :P
I love you guys for this. It is wonderful to see so many people!
I was gone for approximately seven months (SEVEN MONTHS WITHOUT CONTRIBUTING TO THIS SHIP AND THE FANDOM WTF RIGHT), but I came back to drop something off.
Happy birthday, @ruscano! I wanted to be one of the last ones to greet you today, and no way was I gonna greet you without my gift. (Akala mo ba nakalimutan na kita i-greet?) I love you, and I wish you all the best!
Yes, the title is from one of my favorite songs of all time. Also, this “too little too late au” is inspired by an excerpt from a play that Selya and I watched last May.
A humid breeze hit him soon as he stepped out of the cab. He had missed this, the taxi culture—rosaries, figurines, and bobble heads adorning the dashboard; the fusion of rank and sampaguita invading his senses; and the unwarranted but strangely welcomed small talk from the driver. He watched the cab’s retreating bumper, gradually shrinking until it turned at the corner, never to be seen again.
It had been years since he was last here, yet his last memory of that day played vividly in his mind like it had happened a few moments prior.
A lot of things had changed since his last “visit,” mainly, that there were now houses erect on the vacant lots they had played in when they were children. He knew that this was an executive village, and that houses (mansions, he corrected himself) would soon sprout like mushrooms, but had time really gone by that fast?
“I got off at the wrong house.” He mutters under his breath as he spots the beige stucco at the end of the street.
With a deep sigh and a resolve to fulfill his mission, he trudged on to his destination.
He took in the sight of the stucco. It was just like how he remembered it, save for the grand stairs on the patio. He remembers the stairs in its full spread, but in its stead was half the stairs he envisioned and the other half a ramp. (Tito and tita were quite old when I left all those years ago.)
He noticed that the gates were open, and he took it as permission to enter. The whole place felt like home, and it was.
He rang the doorbell and waited.
The door slowly creaked open as a man in a wheelchair appeared. (So that’s what, rather, who, the ramp’s for.)
“Hi, how may I help you?” He took in the man in the wheelchair. He looked relatively older, and there was a certain tiredness in his vibe, but his eyes, his eyes were different. (Like that of a kindred soul, or some shit.)
“Um, is Pole there?”
“Pole?” His eyebrows were knitted together.
“Apolinario Mabini? Does he live here, still?”
“Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Emilio, by the way. I’m a friend of Apolinario’s. We were childhood friends and I spent most of my summers here. Well, weekends, too, now that I remember clearly.”
“You seem to have known him well. What brings you here, Emilio?”
“I, uh, I wanted to check if he still lived here. We kind of ended on a bad note, and now that everything’s clear to me, I came back to fix the shit that went down.”
“…Shit?” The man looked torn between laughing and frowning at him, but Emilio was too caught up in his thoughts to notice.
“I’d known him since I was little. Heck, I’d go as far as to say we’re best friends, but I was too slow to catch on, and I hate myself everyday for it.”
“If it is true that you and him were,” Emilio’s face contorted to that of one offended. “are, best friends, then whatever you did wrong has long been forgiven. At least, that’s how I see it.”
“But you don’t understand. You don’t know what happened.”
“Then make me understand.” If the man’s tone was pointed or invasive to a certain extent, Emilio paid no mind.
“We’ve been friends since we were little. Since I was little, really. He was three, four years older, but by some twist of fate, he was stuck with snotty little me. Our mothers were friends from way back when, so it was impossible for him and I to not go down the same road—since we lived in the same village and they always met up on Saturdays to gossip over mimosas at the Country Club.”
“You live in this village, too?”
“Haven’t for the longest time,” He turned to look at the yard. “They enrolled us in the same school and things just fell into place, you know? We didn’t hang out much in school and our personalities were different, but we clicked. We knew each other better than we knew our own siblings, such a shame, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“What went wrong, then?”
“I knew him so well, and yet I didn’t know him enough. Him being gay was no issue. He was still my best friend even if he liked boys, and the little things and interests we shared didn’t change. Sure, there were times I didn’t want to hear all about some actor’s shapely ass, and I hated him a bit for being able to talk freely about things as such, but I went on a road to self-discovery when we moved away and I found out that I was projecting what I couldn’t be at the time.”
“And you were?”
“Confused. Utterly confused about who I was and what I really wanted.”
“And do you know now?” The man raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes. What I wanted was in front of me for so long, and I didn’t even know,” Emilio brought out a stick from a tin can in his breast pocket. He lit the cigarette and took a drag before exhaling wisps of smoke.
“Disgusting.” The man scrunched up his nose, dismayed at Emilio’s choice of action.
“It’s a habit I never learned to break. Sorry.” The man waved his apology off with a flick of his wrist. “He disapproved of my smoking, and for some time I stopped, but after that day, I’d depended on it to destress.”
“He asked me to go on a road trip with him to Tagaytay. We ate breakfast at Antonio’s and that was when he told me he loved me. I don’t recall exactly what transpired after that, but I remember that we were both in tears and none of us were talking. That was the longest car ride I had ever been on. I told him I would think about it, and I promised I’d be back after three days. I never came back because next thing I knew, I was booking the first flight to the US. My family and I weren’t scheduled to leave for another month, but I chickened out on confronting Pole and ran away,” Emilio laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry, I must be keeping you from important matters with my nervous rambling.”
“Pole! Dinner’s ready!” A distant voice shouted from within the house. The man in the wheelchair took off his glasses and sighed.
“Pole?” Emilio whispered in disbelief.
“Surprise.” Pole chuckled softly as he awkwardly scratched at the back of his head.
“I didn’t recognize you at all,” He eyed Pole from head to toe, bewildered. “How?”
“Polio.” They solemnly nodded at each other as they were engulfed in unadulterated silence.
“You’re sorry. Yes, I figured just as much.”
“I truly am, please believe me. I didn’t mean to run away from you, from this, all those years ago. I was terrified of what would happen because I was so afraid of losing you, even if that meant that I had to live with the fact that we would only be just friends. But now, I’m ready. I don’t give a shit what others would think about me and you, about us. I love you, Pole.” He knelt down.
“I know.” Pole cast a downward glance at his feet.
“Please forgive me. Let me love you like I should have done all those years ago. Let me make you forget all the hurt that I’ve caused you,” Emilio held both Pole’s hands in his. “Let me worship every inch of your skin. Please, love me again.” He locked eyes with him before kissing his knuckles, only to feel the cold sting of a silver band on his lips.
“I’m sorry, Miong,” That long-forgotten nickname. Emilio longed to hear it again, but not like this. Never like this. “You told me to give you three days, but I gave you more. Three days turned into three weeks, and then three weeks into three months, and even that into three years.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. Not even a single letter came through the mail, not even an e-mail in my inbox. It was like you disappeared without a trace.” Pole should have sounded accusatory, but the rawness in his voice brought out the young man Emilio had broken—innocent and pleading.
“Does he make you happy?”
“What makes you so sure he’s a he?” Emilio narrowed his eyes at him.
“Just answer the damn question.”
“Selong’s not you, but I love him and he loves me.”
“That’s all I need to know,” Emilio stood up and took ahold of his belongings.
He felt slender fingers on his wrist.
“Today’s the 11th. You told me to give you 3 days on the 8th of July. You pushed through with your 3 days, after all.” Emilio let out a cough in an attempt to let the awkwardness dissipate.
“I’ll show myself out.”
“Please promise me you won’t disappear again.”
“I promise.” He took one last glance at Pole, to memorize every curve and every wrinkle of his face. It was the last time they would see each other, and Emilio was determined to see to it.
I joined tumblr about 2 or 3 years ago when I was still in school, I had some extra time on my hands and I always wanted to contribute a little something to this amazing fandom that I absolutely adore.
I usually don’t write a lot about myself here because I didn’t see the need for people to know about me to enjoy the contents of my blog, but today I decided to write a little something about my life that’s going on now and maybe get some advice from anyone who is reading this.
Hi Rebekah, Wonderful video as always. I only started watching Sherlock last summer(!) and quickly found TJLC when I questioned the nature of John & Sherlock's relationship. I fell deep into the rabbit hole of subtext and literary analysis and it reignited my passion for writing. Nine months later, my first novel is complete and just today I sent out my very first query! TJLC literally inspired my career! Thanks for all your contributions to the fandom and have a fantastic day. :) :)
HELLOOO so this is actually my first attempt at fan art like EVER and i decided to contribute my trashy drawing to the Kylux shippers/fandom! I got inspired by this guide on how to draw two characters kissing that I decided why not make the Knight of Ren with a tantrum and the Ginger General have a little fluff in their really angsty journey? Thus, this happened. I’m definitely hoping to improve as I try to find time to do more.
This is a WIP and soon im gonna ink it and watercolour away. Well that’s all from me today:D
OH do give constructive criticism if you feel like it yo. Help is always appreciated. No mean comments tho. Meanies be warned.
AND ITS DONE!! Finally, i managed to water colour over the inking an this is my Kylux end result :) honetly i’m pretty proud of it considering its my first time doing this. Look at me, making them blush hohoho. I will be reposting this just in case
As a blog that tries to keep things positive around here, I do apologize for the amount of negativity on my blog today, but I won’t apologize for calling another writer out on plagiarizing. She did own up to it and apologize, which was very big of her to do and I commend her for that.
I am sorry that she’s left the community and deleted her blog. Tess contributed a lot to the Gotham fandom over the last couple months. I don’t know why she chose to copy another writer’s fic almost word for word for her own story, but it was a mistake made that she did apologize to DeePet (the author of Brown Eyed Riddles) for.
I feel like it’s kinda obvious, but this blog is currently on hiatus.
I don’t want to go into personal reasons because I don’t want to start drama, but the basics of it is that I’m not really into the SPG fandom anymore. Events involving the band/fandom have happened that have been hurtful to my mental health; today especially. I’m currently not in a good place, and since the band has partially caused that, I think it’s best if I take a step back from the fandom as a whole, including this blog.
I really did enjoy my time running this blog, and though it always got sort of mixed reviews from the fandom, I know some of you liked my contributions. Does this mean I’m going to be gone forever? I really hope not. I hope I can come to a place where I can enjoy the band and fandom again, and make content for it again.
But as for now, I have to tap out for a bit. I really am sorry, but it’s for the sake of my own mental health. I love all you guys, thanks for making this blog so much fun to run.
(( Escape from New York was released 35 years ago today.
I was aware of the film long before I got around to watching it. I heard the theme song on some John Carpenter compilation video on YouTube, and I was instantly enthralled. This was years ago, in 2009.
I thought up what this film could be about. I never spoiled the plot for myself and kept on thinking of stories. I watched it for the first time in April 2015. Escape from New York is one of my all-time favorite. Snake, Hauk, Rehme, Cronenberg, Maggie, Cabbie, Romero, Brain, Maureen, the Duke, even Mr. President (you ungrateful little turd) - I’ll never ever forget them.
I’m absolutely gutted that I can’t contribute any art today. Or any of my usual things. I’ve never done so much for one fandom before - it feels incredible. There’s no shame in posting something delayed, but I’m still sad.
Thirty five years years is a big milestone (Hell, perhaps I’ll even change Snake’s birthday to July 10th). But.
Happy day! I love you, Snake. I really do. ))
(( This is the NECA figure of Snake that my boyfriend got me. I gave him a three kitties and a goose. ))
(( This one’s got a ribbon. He’s going to kill me in my sleep. ))