Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Tuesday's Best 8-16-2011

Morning, everyone! Enjoying the last days of summer? Or perhaps the first true signs of winter (I hear it's been snowing down under!)? Either way, I hope you're ready for some yummy reads, because Aradi and Conversed have found some great ones again. Grab a towel, fresh undies, and some Kleenex (you'll need it!), and perhaps a teddy-bear to hug, and lets get to it!


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I'm back, and once again dreaming of year-round schools, or at the very least a collection of personal cabana boys.

In celebration of one of my favorite things (school starting this week), I thought I'd revisit a few of my other favorite things.  Specifically, Carlisle, Edward, Carlisle-with-Edward, and Lou-La.

Disjointed, by the gifted Lou-La (How to Turn a Straight Guy Gay and Interns, among many), is a three-chapter fic from last year that helped convince me that older-Carlisle/younger-Edward was perfectly fine (and even perfectly hot).

Disjointed is an AH story, with a young librarian Edward with a desperate crush on regular patron Carlisle.  Edward is hopelessly attracted and hopelessly shy.  He even hides when Carlisle needs to check out his books.  ShyWard is adorkable in his pining.


It was so utterly impossible for me to focus the entire hour he graced us with. After months of the same routine, his presence at the library was becoming an addiction for me. I craved it, I needed it, I longed for it. And yet, I couldn't even be nearer to him than a good twenty feet―ten if Bella was between us.


What exactly it was about him that affected me so, I don't honestly know. He's not the first man to catch my attention, though he definitely held it in a more overpowering way than anyone before him. Not to mention the fact that despite being shy, I've never been quite so unbearably introverted around anyone this way before. There was never a time I wasn't capable of words around a person before―or even a conscious thought.


He was also obviously older than me. I hadn't ever been attracted to a man so much more mature than my measly twenty one years. He looked... well, he looked fucking edible, but besides that he looked to be mid-thirties at least, maybe even pushing forty. Even if he was double my age, he was undoubtedly the most beautiful man I'd ever laid my eyes upon.

Of course they finally are forced together and of course it isn't quite sunshine and roses and unicorns.


Letting my eyes fall closed, suddenly it was real. The brush of hot and hard against my hip was real. The palm in mine was real. The lips on my throat were real, as was the hand pressing against my jaw and neck. The bathroom stall that surrounded us was real and the way I felt was real.


Carlisle was sucking on my throat.


Oh, God.


If it was possible for my breathing to grow any heavier, it did in that moment. If there was any way at all for my pants to grow impossibly tighter and more pain full, it happened then. If I could question my sanity any more than I already was, I did so right at that point.


"Stop?" I rasped skeptically.

Disjointed is lovely and complicated, miserable in parts and hot in others.  Bella is fun as a friend/coworker.  Jasper makes a tastyhot cameo as a significant other.  

A warning: this ficlet earns its angst/romance tag.  Carlisle brings a pile of baggage with him, and the two men seem to stop a half dozen times before they can even begin to start.  If you don't love the pain and fail, tread carefully here.  I love this story because it's one of those "be careful what you wish for" type of tales.  The reality is never quite as idyllic as the fantasy was.

But sometimes fantasies are all we have to tide us over til school goes back.  Sigh.

~Aradi

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I often read and write about stuff I have no firsthand knowledge about. Somehow, I’ve kidded myself into thinking that it’s okay to enjoy writing about men loving each other, even though I’m not a man. I hope that we’re all friends here, and that no one really minds if I get some of the technical details about that kind of jiggery-pokery wrong, just as I forgive other people when they wax lyrical about stuff I’m fairly certain is anatomically impossible.

One thing I will never, ever do is write about baseball or football in any detail. I have even less first-hand knowledge about those two things than I do about rimming or three-ways. I’ll admit it here: I have never watched a single game/match/whatever of either sport. I’m clueless about the terminology. It all just boggles my tiny British brain.

BUT, but, but I do love Riley fics, so when Roughing the Passer arrived in my inbox, I steeled myself for complete confusion just to get to the good stuff. stephk0525’s contribution to Fandom4SAA—a Riley/Jasper OS— is brilliantly written. While I still know less than nothing about sports, I’m absolutely certain that I just read a really enjoyable, perfectly paced fic.

There’s more than a little tension in this sport-orientated story:


"Whitlock! Florida! You're up, let's go!"


“The high pitch of the coach's whistle echoes a shrill chirp and my head shoots up from my crouched position on the turf. I can't miss the chance to see the almighty Jasper Whitlock run his drills. I know there's not a chance in hell he's gonna piss away the Combine, not the Major. Talk about a god damn field general...


This guy's been fucking my shit up for the past four years, from the second he signed his letter of intent with the Gators. Florida was supposed to be mine. It was the best place for me to go make history and build an image, no matter how false it might be. Fake blondes with fake boobs and fake tans; I could've been just as fake in covering up who I really am.


And just who are you, Riley Biers?


I'm not sure I know.”

Now, I’m only guessing, and it’s entirely possible that I’ve got this wrong, what with my football numb-skullery and all, but I think Riley is more than a little conflicted when it comes to Jasper:

“ The guy is poetry in motion. I'm so fixated, I can't even bring myself to stand.



Fuck. Me.



This is when I start in with the resentment.” 

Riley is desperate to achieve, and sees Jasper as standing in his way…kind of. He can’t help admiring Jasper’s skills, and it sounds as if Jasper has been admiring his also:


"Biers," he drawls, our handshake transforming into one of those shoulder bump half hugs, minus the arm wrap. I really want the arm wrap. "Been a while since - "


"The fucking championship, I know. Please don't remind me, Whitlock." My tone clips, my posture defensive as I pull back and break my grip.


"Whoa, easy there Hoss. I was gonna say New York. You know when we actually got to hang out and weren't a mess of nerves? Fuck, I don't even count the game; we didn't talk at all."

stephk0525 does an absolutely brilliant job of making something completely incomprehensible to me, vivid, exciting and thoroughly compelling to read. It helps that Riley is portrayed as so very flawed and human:


“My brain freezes. The scene in my head comes to an utter screeching halt as I realize that Jasper is staring at me staring at him. I don't even have time to ponder the how long's or the what-the-fuck's; I'm busted as shit. And I'm paralyzed. All my limbs are in total disconnect because I cannot fucking think.


Our eyes are locked, unblinking, trying to get a read on the other. Then, fuck me where I sit, Jasper diverts his eyes down – not to the floor, but to my cock that is clearly the very happy benefactor of the mental porno he was unknowingly starring in.


Or maybe he doesWhitlock meets my eyes once again and then winks. He fucking winks at me, and that's all the jolt I need to do what I do best: retreat and run for my damn life.”

I won’t spoil the story but I will say that if I, a complete sports idiot, can not only enjoy reading Roughing the Passer but actually wish that there was more to come, then maybe any other sports idiots out there might love it just as much.

Conversed

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There you have it, folks, another couple of great tales to delve into. Be sure to check back next week to see what Aradi and I have in store for you then. In the mean time, leave these wonderful authors some love.

Oh, and why don't you hop on over to the two contests currently happening and either read to your heart's content about boylove (or girl/girl, I'm not at all biased one way or the other... hell, throw in a few threesome. The more, the merrier, right? ;-)). Better yet, why don't you write some and join in on the fun?

There's  Born This Way contest of course, and then there's Slash / Backslash 3.0. They accept submissions until respectively the 31st of August and the 15th of September.

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