im 23, my pronouns are they/them, im queer, TME, i have an animation degree, i live in the FL which is. a time, and im trying to enjoy and engage with fandom again :)
this is my all purpose blog
current fandoms are Heated Rivalry, NADDPOD, Star Trek (i haven’t seen SNW or SFA yet but i think im up to date on the rest) the Muppets, Dimension 20, PWHL and more that i can’t think of in the moment
i try to tag everything! if there’s anything in particular you want tagged please lmk!!
if you want to be mutuals just reach out id love to chat!
most posts i make will be tagged #aa posts
my art will be tagged #aa draws
mental health rants tagged #mental health bs
personal stuff will probably be tagged #dear diary
this will probably be updated if i gain tags and to add fandoms
yk i dont miss my ex as much as i used to anymore, in fact im even sometimes (most of the time even!) glad we arent together bc we brought out the worst in each other towards the end. but damn i miss them so much listening to first time. but also like its about being better off without them so fuck like.
also i am listening to unreal unearth in order in entirety tonight and so like going from first time to francesca which is like how i felt when we were fighting and then for the first several months when we broke up. holy fucking whiplash.
There are two wolves inside me rn. Adéla Provocateur and Hozier Unreal Unearth. Both are unlocking new sides to me every time I listen. Both have some greatttt base. Both make me dissociate and also ground me. Is this how people feel about music all the time?
Yall im listening to a hozier interview from when unreal unearth came out and im just absolutely fuming bc i didnt get a chance to see him live bc i had to cancel my tickets bc of a JOB like r u joking. I don’t even have that job anymore. My whole life is different. He’s not gonna tour again for YEARS. I could have called out sick.
AND ANOTHER THING WHO tf made prn med blister packs or whatever they’re called so hard to open I can barely claw it open when I don’t have a migraine, when I do forget it! I get making things child proof but I don’t have kids they should make a version that’s easier to open that you can opt into if you don’t have kids have joint pain slash finger mobility issues and are just a clumsy motherfucker with visuals disturbances during migraines like me
who the tf decided both insomnia and drowsiness should both be migraine symptoms like i cannot sleep but also ik that im gonna have to set twice as many alarms for tomorrow bc i will be sleeping like the dead and im gonna be tired all day but not able to sleep tomorrow too istg im fed up
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic. it's time <3 (or is it...?)
July 2015
Shane texts Brian that he had an unexpected brand opportunity come up and that he'll be out of town for a few days. Then he books it to his cottage.
It's maybe cowardly but just this once, Shane thinks he's fine being a coward. The thought of seeing Brian right now makes him feel uneasy, like being on the ice without any padding. The version of himself who thought he could love Brian again seems like a stranger to him now. Shane doesn't want to become him again but he can't trust his own judgment, so. Safer to stay away.
Being alone in the cottage helps him gain some equilibrium, even though the closer it gets to Ilya's plane touching down in Montreal, the slower time seems to pass and the more Shane feels like clawing his skin off.
He still kind of can't believe Ilya offered to come. It makes him oddly giddy thinking about it, sets off a flutter in his stomach like he's some teenager with a crush.
Rose said you should stay single, he reminds himself. But then, She doesn't know Ilya, though. She wouldn't have said that if she knew him.
God, he really is turning into a teenager.
It should feel scarier, considering his track record. Shane has no rational explanation for why it doesn't. Why, despite everything, Ilya feels so safe to him.
The day Ilya arrives in Montreal, Shane drives back home feeling miraculously calm. It's like locking in for a game, he reasons. He knows the play, knows he has teammates backing him up, so now he just has to execute it.
Shane beats Ilya to the apartment by a couple of hours. He experiences a brief moment of panic when he hears a knock on the door, a vivid imagine of Brian standing on the other side popping up in his head.
It's Ilya, of course, which does nothing to slow Shane's heart rate but does make his stomach swoop funnily.
"Hey," he says, breathless.
"Hey," Ilya replies softly. He looks a little bit shell-shocked, eyes scanning Shane's face like he can't believe he's real.
Shane wants to kiss him so bad.
But first thing's first.
Ilya doesn't join him for the actual breakup. Even Shane, with his compromised judgment, recognizes how crazy that would be. He stays in the car outside, which shouldn't be a problem because Shane doesn't plan on letting this drag out.
"It'll be ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Shane tells him. His hands feel sweaty around the wheel of his car so he removes them, rubbing them on his pants. "If I'm not back in twenty, you can come in."
Ilya's eyebrows quirk. "That's quick."
"I can't do a whole confrontation," Shane says. "I just need to tell him it's over. I don't - I don't owe him anything more than that."
It feels kind of true. Shane counts that as progress.
"You don't," Ilya agrees.
He takes Shane's hand, squeezing it. Shane squeezes back, the touch grounding him.
His palm still feel warm as he's knocking on Brian's door.
It takes Brian twenty-seven seconds to answer. There's a surreal moment as he opens the door that Shane braces himself, expecting some flood of emotions, only for nothing to happen.
Shane is looking at his boyfriend of eight years and he feels nothing.
Then his eyes catch on the yellowing bruise on Brian's cheek and something does stir - a hollow kind of pain at the center of his chest.
He lied about that bruise so easily, his story seemingly designed to knock Shane off-kilter.
What else has he been lying about?
"You're back," Brian says once the door is closed. He smiles. "You know, you could have let yourself in. That's why I gave you a key."
"Right." Shane reaches into his pocket, fist closing around said key. "I actually - I came to give it back."
Brian blinks. "Give it back?"
"And to break up with you," Shane adds.
It slips out and Shane immediately regrets how flippant he sounds. Brian laughs, because of course he thinks it's a joke.
"You're fucking with me, right?"
"I'm not."
Shane tries to hand him the key. Brian's arms stay stubbornly at his side, smile sliding off his face. Finally, Shane puts the key down on the counter instead.
"You're fucking with me," Brian repeats shakily. "I don't - is this because of Vegas? I thought we were moving past it. Things have been good between us since we talked it out."
It's an unpleasant reminder of how differently they've been viewing this relationship. "Things haven't been good. I haven't been happy."
"Then you're not trying hard enough." Brian takes a step towards him, hand held out. Shane steps back. "Shane." His voice turns pleading. "Please, think it through. You can't give up on us just like that."
"This isn't a spur of the moment decision," Shane says. He really didn't mean to get into it but God. Has Brian always talked to him like this, like he's a stupid kid who doesn't understand his own heart? "I haven't been happy with you for a while."
"Is this because of Rozanov?"
Irritation shoots through Shane. "Fuck off."
"It is," Brian says, eyes heated. "We didn't start having problems until you started fucking him."
"And whose idea was that?" Shane snaps. He huffs, uncertain if he's more angry at Brian for making this so difficult or at himself for getting distracted. "It doesn't matter. I wasn't happy before we opened the relationship either. It's - you're not good for me. I don't think you ever were."
Brian laughs incredulously. "I get it. You need me to be the bad guy, huh?"
"That's not what I said."
"Might as well have. If I'm so awful, what does that make you? Why would you choose to be with someone who apparently makes you so miserable?"
"I was sixteen." Shane feels his shoulder hunching, feels the way he's making himself smaller, and forces himself to straighten. "I didn't know any better. You took advantage of that."
Brian goes still. "You're kidding me. That's your excuse?"
Shane's stomach twists. "It's not a fucking excuse."
"I didn't even know your age."
It didn't stop you once you found out, Shane almost responds. He can't. He feels exhausted all of a sudden, imagining going through every shitty thing Brian has done, having to argue every point and listen to Brian try to minimize it or pretend there wasn't any harm.
Shane doesn't want to do any of that. He just wants to get out of here.
He wants to see Ilya.
"I'm not gonna do this with you," he says. "It's over. We're broken up. Have a nice life, or whatever."
He turns to leave and Brian grabs his arm. Shane shakes him off unthinkingly and Brian flinches back at the force of it.
"Shane." Brian's demeanor has shifted completely, voice gone soft, eyes pleading. "Please. I can't lose you."
It's incredibly unkind, but Shane can't help but think he's being pathetic.
"I've hurt you," Brian continues, taking Shane's hesitation as some sign of his willingness to listen. "I understand. I never meant to, but I did and I'd do anything to make it up to you."
He's not even saying sorry. All of these theatrics and Brian can't even be bothered to apologize. Shane wonders if he even realizes it.
He shouldn't be entertaining this. He's not actually gonna forgive Brian. And still, "You could start by telling me the truth."
"The truth?" Brian echoes.
"How you really got that bruise," Shane suggests mildly. "Why you came to Vegas. Why you even suggested an open relationship in the first place, when you were fucking other people already."
He doesn't mean to let that last question slip but it's been eating at him since Rose suggested the possibility. He takes no pleasure in seeing Brian's face pale and knowing that she was right.
"Who have you been talking to?"
Shane wants to punch something. He wants to throw up. He didn't think it was possible for him to care so much when he doesn't even want Brian anymore, but it hurts all the same.
Rose was wrong. Shane is stupid. Naive and too trusting for his own good.
"It didn't mean anything," Brian is saying. His voice sounds far away. "It was a moment of weakness. You're the only one I love, the only one I've ever loved."
A sharp knock thankfully interrupts him. Before either of them can react the (apparently unlocked) door swings open.
"It's been twenty minutes," Ilya says. He shoots Brian a dismissive glance before focusing his attention on Shane. "Are you finished?"
Shane has never been happier to see him. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."
"You can't be serious," Brian says weakly.
Shane ignores him. He reaches the door, allows Ilya to place his hand on the small of his back and guide him past the threshold.
Brian doesn't protests again. Maybe it's finally sinking in for him that it's useless. Maybe seeing Shane with Ilya made him stop wanting to try. Or maybe he fucking spontaneously combusted.
“Mr Zirk, are you gonna make me say it? Maybe I don’t fucking want to be her sister. Okay? ” is such an important line to me. Emotionally cathartic, narratively important, gay as fuck. Emily Axford kissed the brick before throwing it directly at my face, breaking all of my teeth, giving me a black eye and knocking me out cold.
