Based on a short story that's floating around my head! let me know if you lads are interested
I've been pressed on time due to a Chem course that started two weeks ago. It's an accelerated course which condenses an entire semester into eight weeks!...
Surprise! Hopped on this quick with this song trending on TikTok!
I'll still be finishing up Encore as soon as I can
Another sticker for you lads!... and perhaps something a little more :)
Working on multiple projects now that commissions are wrapped up and finished!
and look, Nigel gets a cameo too
Surgery recovery hasn't been as swift as I would have hoped! I'll be finishing Encore as soon as possible so I can move onto a new animation :)
For those of you who saw this post early!... Oops!
These stickers are available now on red bubble
Currently recovering from surgery while working through commissions :)
These fellas and their guppies, which spawn in the night out of nowhere!
2025-03-13 19:00:07 +0000 UTC View Post
Jareth's first music videos were very in line with the trends for the early 70s/late 60s. Stand and sing to a camera, often in a studio set.
Jareth instead wanted his music video to be filmed like a movie, and his music videos later became known for their massive productions and interesting visuals
For those of you still waiting on your commissions, I'm halfway through slots and your art is on its way! :)
I've been required to read "Fouth Wing" for a class, and I personally have been very disappointed by it.
However, I like the idea of dragons and I wish there were species with large variety based on climate and terrain rather than just "blue dragon, orange dragon, red dragon, green dragon."
I made my own version of Fourth Wing, and if you're interested in more of this world and info then let me know! :) i have some ideas for other character's dragons. Otherwise, I'll be moving away from AUs to focus back on OG storylines
In this world, each kingdom uses dragons as a form of military, which makes them highly valuable and in constant need of more riders. The kingdom that Cole and Jareth are from have set up a large dragon academy east of the palace grounds with a soul focus on training soldiers or future professors.
This academy unfortunately preys on those in poverty. They promise housing and good food for all six years you are being taught there, as well as compensation for your family. After you are employed in battle, this compensation continues until retirement or death.
Jareth and Cole are both professors at the academy, having gotten in through connections with the royals. (nepotism)
Jareth teaches Dragon Behaviors and Studies, which is a two year course covering all species and subspecies of dragons.
His dragon, Barnaby, is a Carousel Dragon who stays curled against the rounded ceiling of his lecture hall while he teaches.
Occasionally he'll chuff down at Jareth mid lesson for a sugar cane snack.
He rarely leaves Jareth's classroom, and new students are clueless he's there until he moves and makes a jingling sound!
Barnaby's real species name is "Wish Dragon", because they appear in dreams and grant you one wish. However, they became the default mold for carousel rides so the general public call them "Carousel Dragons"
When bonded with a dragon, the rider shares in their power. Jareth has the ability to dream walk, and often visits others while they sleep.
Cole teaches The Strategy of War, which is a tactical course covering war techniques.
He was greatly disappointed when he was bonded with Archimedes, his Peatott dragon. He is a species far too small for battle, and his power is that Cole always knows what time it is... Which he finds useless.
However, after being chained to the roll of professor he finds that Archimedes is a reasonable companion.
Unlike other Peatotts, Archimedes insists on walking on two legs!
Poor Gene happens to sprout horns every spring and become particularly affectionate! His mood steadies in late spring/early summer and his horns shed around late fall.
2025-02-26 19:00:00 +0000 UTC View Post
They are here! make sure to read all the way through if you are interested. Six slots are open this time around :)
2025-02-23 19:00:09 +0000 UTC View PostEarly the next morning- just as the sun had split over the horizon and through the trees- Gene was out wrapped in his brown jacket carrying a weighted bag of feed. He tipped the bag and spread the mix of corn, grains, dried peas, and soybean across the dead grass to coax the chickens out of their coop. Seven hens sprinted from the opened mesh door.
Gene discarded the bag and picked up the worn woven basket set atop the wooden coop. He ducked his head and crouched inside which had a fog of warmth. He went from one nest box to the next, scooping up spotted brown and white eggs from the dried hay and occasionally stopped to pick off a piece of straw. Some eggs were still warm in his palm.
In the last box sat Helga, a fat brown chicken who was turned away from Gene. When Gene neared she puffed her feathers and let out a long churning sound. Gene reached to pry under her and she pecked him, so he let her brood.
Gene emerged from the coop, went inside the house to shelf the eggs in the fridge, then went back out to go around the house and pull in the trash bins. Once that was done he watered the garden, which had been struggling this season due to a groundhog they couldn't find. All the while, a weight sat heavy in Gene’s sternum.
It was while Gene chopped blocks of wood that the back porch door squealed open and his mother stepped out in her navy blue pencil skirt uniform with her hair tied back. She cupped a steaming mug of hot tea that Ramsey made for her.
“Gene,” she said.
Gene stuck the axe into the wood and let it go to look at her.
“Come on in, we’re gonna have a talk.”
The weight in Gene’s chest deepened, and he sighed slow through his nose as he walked to the porch. The wooden steps creaked under the weight of his boots and he stepped inside where Ramsey was sizzling bacon on a frying pan with his back turned to Gene.
Gene pulled his chair out from the kitchen table and sat down with his large hands cupped in his lap. He stared down at the floral pattern on the cotton tablecloth.
“Ramsey said you got in trouble last night?” Abigail said while leaned against the kitchen counter. “What happened?” she asked. “Were you out past curfew?”
Gene nodded.
“What were you doing?” she asked.
Gene did not reply. Eggs cracked on the edge of the frying pan and the sizzling became louder.
“Were you with Aiden?” She asked.
“No,” Gene replied.
“What were you doing?”
When Gene did not reply Abigail looked at Ramsey who kept his back turned from them.
“Ramsey,” She said.
“Hmm?” He hummed. Then he said, “Gene was brought home by a cop.”
“What!”
Gene heard the bottom of her mug sit on the counter.
“What the hell were you doing!”
“Got caught with a girl,” Ramsey replied.
“Gene!”
Gene’s gold cross necklace hung from his neck and rested heavy between his collarbones.
“Is it that girl you were dating?”
Gene shook his head no.
“Gene,” she said in a low tone. Then she said, “Were you being safe?”
Gene nodded. Abigail scoffed through her mouth and crossed her arms.
For a while, no one said anything. Ramsey finished his cooking and began to place the filled plates on the table. He placed Gene’s plate down in front of him. He got two eggs and three slices of bacon.
“I don’t understand,” Abigail muttered, and Ramsey pulled her chair out for her.
After some time, Abigail sat at the table and ate. For the rest of breakfast, no one said a word. Only when Ramsey was washing their plates did Abigail speak again.
“You’re in big trouble Gene, this isn’t okay.” She said, and reached up to rub her eyes. “I can’t think about this right now, we’ll talk about it when you get home from work.”
Gene felt his mother’s cold hand hold his forearm, then squeeze. He placed his own hand overtop hers, then she stood from the kitchen table and went down the hallway. Ramsey and Gene said nothing to one another and Gene went to work after going outfront to see his car parked crooked.
####
Gene clocked in, worked halfway through his first shift, then took his break in the back where there was a single stool, a window that could no longer close, and one dandling light bulb. On the wall was a yellow telephone with chipped paint around the handle.
Gene lit up a cigarette and leaned against the wall where the window was cracked open. While blowing smoke, he held the shell of the telephone to his ear and waited as it rang. After the seventh ring, Ace answered.
“Hello?” Came through the other line.
“Aye,” Gene replied.
Then there was silence.
“You alright?” Gene asked.
There was more silence. Gene raised his cigarette to his lips and he waited.
“Yes,” Ace said.
“Yea?” Gene replied.“Hm.”
The cogs in Gene’s head turned slowly as he listened to the fuzz coming through into his ear. Then, he pictured Ace standing in the living room with the phone to his ear, and his mother sitting on the couch behind him.
“Alright. You wanna talk later?” Gene asked.
“No,” Ace replied.
“Mm.” Gene thought for a moment. “You in trouble?”
“Not really,” he said, shortly. “Are you?”
“Mhm,”
“How much?” Ace asked.
“Lots.”
Ace said nothing after that, and Gene waited for him.
“I don’t think we should talk anymore,” Ace said with a hushed voice.
“Oh,” Gene said. “How come?”
“... Are you serious?” he said, quieter.
Then, Gene heard Mrs. Figgley’s voice from off in the home somewhere. Ace replied to her:
“No, it’s just Gene,”
Then the line cut and Gene pulled the phone away from his ear to look at it.
He looked back at the clock on the kitchen wall, then picked up his folded apron from the stool and slung it around his neck. Gene would call Ace once more before clocking out, but there would be no answer.
###
When Gene came home from work in the evening he hung up his coat by the door and kicked off his boots, then went down the short hall to the living room.
“How was work?” Abigail asked.
“Mm,” Gene hummed.
“It was okay?”
Gene nodded, and raised his head to look at her.
“That’s good,” she said. Then, she looked at Ramsey, and Ramsey ate his food. “We talked today and we wanted to ask more about last night,” she said.
Gene nodded.
Abigail asked Gene a handful of questions pertaining to use of protection, how often he had been sneaking out, and whether or not they knew the woman. When Gene did not answer who she was, Abigail did not press him.
All the while Gene could hear crickets starting up their chirping out back from the opened kitchen window. A car rolled by on the road, and the neighbor’s collie began to bark.
“Okay,” Abigail said through a sigh. “We’re gonna be holding onto your keys when you’re not at work, okay? Ask when you need them, and when you get home give them right back to dad,” she said.
“Okay."
“You’re gonna help dad with his chores for a month.”
“Okay,”
After that, no one had anything to say. Everyone ate the shrimp scampi dish that Ramsey prepared, and the neighbor’s collie began barking again.
“Can Ace still come around?” Gene asked.
“Uhm,” Abigail looked at Ramsey. He looked at her. “Not till next week?"
Ramsey nodded.
###
After dinner, Gene showered then laid on his bed with a damp towel around his waist and his gold cross necklace flat against his left peck. He held his nightstand telephone to his ear, and he waited. The line purred against his ear in short trills, and he followed one of his ceiling fan arms with his eyes. Ace did not answer.
He stretched his arm and placed the handle back on the telephone block, then laid flat on his bed again. He watched his ceiling fan- which his dad installed after he moved to the basement- and he thought about Ace.
If Gene were another man, he would think very deeply about Ace ignoring him, and how Ace had gotten away with no punishments. He would have wondered, perhaps, if Ace was entitled enough to be angry with him. He may even consider that abandoning Ace afterall was the justified option.
But as the fan spun lazily above Gene’s bedroom, and the heater whirred, Gene thought only of Ace’s face.
###
Two weeks later, the weather had begun to turn and morning was grey, and cold. The sky was blanketed in a thick layer of clouds and- according to Ramsey who stood on the back porch with his hands on his hips- it was going to rain.
After Gene fed the chickens and fetched the eggs, he sat on the plaid couch with his breakfast in his lap while Ramsey sat in his big leather armchair. Ramsey left the back door open, so while they watched the news they could hear the wind chimes. Abigail was on a delayed flight to LasVegas due to turbulence and wouldn’t be home until the afternoon.
“This morning police surrounded the Boise campus after a physics professor was found unresponsive in the courtyard.”
“Aye,” Ramsey said, and motioned to Gene. Gene looked at him. “Ketchup.”
Gene set his plate on the couch cushion beside him and stood up to round the armchair and head into the kitchen. He picked up the bottle of ketchup sitting atop the counter.
“While on the way to the hospital he passed away due to internal bleeding. What stunned students and staff the most was not his death, but a rumor that started a month ago suggesting he was a homosexual,"
Gene turned to stare at the television.
“And involved with one or several students. This leads investigators- and staff- to believe his injuries were inflicted by a group on campus. Over to you Michael.”
Gene walked back to the couch slowly with his face turned to the TV. He gave Ramsey the ketchup bottle without looking away from the screen.
“That’s right, now Gale we can’t assume anything just yet about this-”
The screen changed to a commercial about the new compact Coca Cola can. Ramsey had changed the channel. Gene sat back down and picked his plate up.
“Hey,” Gene said.
“Hm?”
“How can you tell? About homosexuals.”
Ramsey tipped the ketchup bottle and didn't say anything for a while. He leaned forward and put it down on the coffee table, then leaned back again.
“What?” he said.
“How do you spot them?” Gene asked.
Ramsey eyed Gene from his chair. Then, he said
“Don’t know.”
After that, both of them ate silently.
###
The day got darker as Gene worked in the diner’s kitchen. Outside the front windows the pine trees swayed and leaves hopped across the sidewalk. The clouds became so thick that at three the manager turned on the overhead table lights that typically came on at five thirty. When Gene clocked out and walked to his car his brown leather jacket became speckled with rain drops, and by the time he was driving out of the parking lot his roof was rattling.
As Gene drove, the rain fell diagonally which hit right against his front window. His windshield wipers began to squeak back and forth which cleared his view in brief pictures. Gene sat back with one hand on the wheel and a cig between his lips with the radio on low, and he listened to the way his car roof drummed.
While driving down Wither street Gene noticed a figure walking down the sidewalk. Each time Gene’s windshield cleared he got a closer look, and he soon recognized the back of Ace’s hair. Gene smiled, just slightly. Ace was holding two grocery bags, and his sweater was soaked through. So too was the turtleneck underneath. He had been sent out for groceries with no umbrella.
Gene cranked his window down and slowed his car next to the curb. While it was still rolling, Ace looked back at him then eyed the rest of the street. He looked forward and kept walking.
“No, go away Gene,” he said, having to raise his voice over the rain. His shivering was hearable.
“Hey,” Gene said. “You’re gonna get sick.”
Ace did not reply and kept shaking his way down the sidewalk. Gene’s car continued to follow him.
“Aye,” he said. Then, Gene pulled his gear into park and opened the car door.
He followed behind Ace- abandoning his open car- and slipped off his jacket which exposed his arms to the sharp weather. When Ace glanced back at him, he held the jacket up with the arm holes facing Ace.
“Stop!” said Ace. “Gene! Go away!”
Gene lowered his arms and stared at Ace’s face. His curly bangs were sticking to his forehead.
“You’re going to get us killed- go away,” Ace said, then kept walking.
Gene’s brows furrowed just slightly and he looked behind himself down the empty street. Then at Ace again.
“What?” he called.
Ace stopped and turned to look at him again. They both stood and watched each other.
“Gene. We got caught, we don’t see each other anymore.”
“Why not?”
Ace scowled at him and turned to face him fully.
“Because we’ll get fucking shot!”
“Aye, Milson doesn’t live around here.” Gene said and shook his head at Ace. Then he said, “People can’t tell. About homosexuals.”
Ace stared at Gene, and Gene could see him breathing heavy from the cold. The pine trees blew loud around them, and his car hummed just a few feet away.
“That night was the first time you’ve ever had to be scared. You have never had to be scared,” Ace said. “Ever. In your entire life! You look exactly how you’re supposed to.” Ace shook his head. “Of course you’re not fucking terrified.”
Then, Ace said something else, but he turned and kept walking so Gene did not hear. Gene stood and watched Ace walk down Wither street holding two clear grocery bags that were dripping. When Ace turned the corner and out of view, Gene went back to the car, now with his shirt sticking to his shoulders.
For the rest of the drive home Gene thought about Sheriff Milson. He thought about how- that night in Milsons car- he felt relieved that Ace was not alone with him.
###
When Gene got home, dinner was simmering on the stove and Abigail and Ramsey were talking on the couch. Ramsey had an arm around her, and they had muted the television so Abigail could vocalize her criticisms of the pilot who flew her designated plane today.
Gene kicked off his damp shoes and hung up his soggy jacket, then wandered into the living room.
“Hey hun,” Abigail said, and turned her head to look at him. “How was work?”
“Good,” Gene replied.
“Goodness Gene, did your car break down?” She asked and turned her body so she could put her arm on the back of the couch.
“No,” Gene said, and absent mindedly walked into the kitchen to eye the gumbo Ramsey was simmering. The roux was creamy and dark with specks of oil floating on the top. Gene took the wooden spatula beside the pot and stirred to see shrimp, mushrooms, tomato, and sausage swirling around.
“How come you’re so wet?”
“Talked to Ace for a bit,” he replied, and walked from the cold tile of the kitchen to the carpet of the living room. He sat down in front of the couch and leaned his head against one of the rough cushions.
“Outside?”
“Mhm,”
Abigail reached out and scratched Gene’s head with her painted almond shaped nails. Gene closed his eyes. Rain tapped the windows, the gumbo simmered, and the house would creak slowly from the pressing wind. Gene became aware of the crackling in the fireplace behind him, and how warm the living room was. He let out a sigh through his nose.
“Have you been feeling okay?” Abigail asked.
Gene raised his head and tilted it against the couch, not looking at his mom. She brushed his bangs to the side.
“We’re not angry at you Gene,” she said, her tone soft. “It’s okay to make mistakes.”
Gene nodded. Yet, while he sat in the warmth of his living room with his head resting on the couch and his mother scratching his scalp, he thought about Ace.
He pictured Ace’s kitchen- which he had only seen on one occasion when he was thirteen years old- and a bag of soggy groceries on the yellow countertop. He pictured a loaf of bread now soaked, meat juices contaminating the fruit, and pastries crumbling. He wondered if Ace’s mother had been angry with him when he got home.
A lighter began to flick, and Gene glanced up through his brows to watch his father light the end of a cigar that suddenly appeared in his hand.
“Oh god Angelo,” Abigail scolded.
For the rest of the evening, Gene’s parents cuddled on the couch and watched the television, and Gene sat in Ramsey’s armchair with “Winesburg, Ohio” open. But he did not read.
###
It would be three days before Gene and Ace met again, during which Gene sat on the front porch stairs with Ramsey and cracked open pea pods into a large bucket. It was during the evening just before the sun began to set, and the bucket was nearly half full. Although the sky was still grey, it stopped raining today.
Gene sat with his elbows on his knees and a cigarette between his lips while he thumbed the pea pods to split, then turned the shell and scooped at the dots inside. For two hours he did this, and he did so absent mindedly. The neighbor walked by with her Collie, a hawk sat on one of the electric poles, and Aiden’s front door opened.
Gene looked up.
Ace stepped out of his house in corduroy bell bottoms, a red turtleneck, and a blazer. He had a lighter going over a cigarette, then snapped it closed and pocketed it. He then raised the cigarette to his lips and began walking out from his porch. Although he looked at Gene briefly, he kept walking.
Gene stood up and put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he made his way across the road to Ace. He did not jog, and he did not call out to Ace.
Ace eventually stopped with his arms crossed and turned to face Gene, waiting for him.
“Aye,” Gene said.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Ace replied, shortly.
Gene shook his head, “Nothing to be for.”
Ramsey waved at Ace from the porch, and Ace raised a hand back.
“I still don’t think we should be going places together, Gene,” Ace said.
“Alright,” Gene replied.
“I’m sorry,”
Gene didn’t reply. He turned his head to look at Ace’s face. He looked bundled in his turtleneck and blazer.
“Hey,” Gene said. “I wanna be with you.”
Ace crossed his arms again and did not look at Gene. To Gene, his face was sad.
“I don’t know,” Ace said.
“I think let’s get a house, somewhere,” Gene said. He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Away.”
“... I don’t know, I don’t know that’s a lot,” Ace said. He looked down at the sidewalk and moved his foot to crunch a deaf leaf. “Where?”
“Mmh… Out of Idaho,” Gene replied.
Ace thought about that for a while. Then he said, “That won’t fix it, this will follow us anywhere we go.”
“Mmh,” Gene hummed. “Roommates.”
Ace said nothing.
“No sneaking.”
Ace turned to glance down the road and he eyed a neighbor who was out raking the leaves. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, then sighed.
“I don’t know Gene, I’ll think about it.”
“Alright,” Gene replied.
“Okay,” Ace began to step back, “Goodbye.”
Gene nodded, and he too began to step back. He turned and walked back down the road. He glanced back at Ace just once, then sat back down on the porch with Ramsey to continue picking the pea pods. For a long while, neither man said anything.
“What’s that?” Ramsey said, and pointed with a thick finger to where Gene and Ace had been standing.
“Thinking of moving out,” Gene replied.
“Hmm.”
The hawk atop the electric pole took flight, and a breeze made the pine trees rustle.
Second part to Gene and Ace's latest short story will be up soon, as well a commission information!
2025-02-17 19:00:11 +0000 UTC View Post
One of the only reasons Jareth releases merchandise is due to the artists who are behind it! Nearly everything he releases is the result of commissioning artists.
Here are some valentines cards that are inside packets of valentines gum. If you're interested in having any of these, they're up on my red bubble!
Struggling through some art block while I prepare valentines themed posts and the second part to Gene and Ace's current short story!
2025-02-07 19:00:08 +0000 UTC View Post
Ace's species are called Lorfick, and are equipped with the ability to read the true feelings of those directly around them. This unfortunately is overwhelming for them, and they often become very introverted without many connections. They also struggle to know what their own feelings are when they are so frequently feeling for other people.
Due to this, Ace frequently looks to Gene in moments of panic or uncertainty.
A plus for this ability is that Ace is very good at reading someone's true intentions! He knows when to avoid someone almost immediately.
Unfortunately my art tablet decided to break two days ago! :(
I've managed to order another option. For now, some doodling!
The ponies are ponysonas from myself and a mutual of mine :) (Razberry-cookie on Tumblr)
Minxes are so called for their fur, which feels like minky fabric! They are a scrappy species with feline attributes, and far back in their evolution they had a tendency to despise one another. To avoid extinction, they adapted to having fur that heightens dopamine levels when pet which encourages friendliness amongst themselves.
However, this feature has sprouted a lot of stereotypes for the species. They are often regarded as a pet-like species that tend to get hired in "adult" industries. Often times, people assume they can pet one whenever they'd like, which creates tension between Minxes and other species when the Minx may not comply.
Furthermore, getting into relationships with other species can be difficult for Minxes, since some partners will get addicted to them.
The Milky Way academy is a fairly new school opened within the Milky Way. Due to humans taking so long to discover intergalactic space travel, the Milky Way has been used for centuries as a crime-capital spot. It was filled with criminal establishments such as casinos, fight rings, and drug labs.
When humans unlocked the key to space travel, the Milky Way was repossessed by the galactic council and repurposed into a tourist area for humans new to space travel. Within this was also built a space flight school for those interested in operating spaceships for a living. (Consider it a community college version of a space flight school)
At this academy is where Gene meets his three roommates, and his three partners for space travel.
Gene is one of the very first human-alien hybrids (Father was an alien, mother was a space explorer) and joins the academy to follow his mother's career.
Jareth and Cole are space elves! Cole attends a completely different school, Stardust Academy.
Hello everyone, I hope you're all doing well and handling the overwhelming world as best you can. I will not be posting art today, but I would like to open a discussion about our favorite books, and why we like them.
My favorite book is currently Roald Dahl's "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More."
His writing is extremely efficient and clear, which I prefer over flowery language. I strongly suggest reading his short stories from this book, it has helped to spark so much creative writing for myself.
For something light; If you're looking a male with male romance that is not written by a middle aged straight woman,then I recommend "Widdershins, Whyborne and Griffin." Although I have grown out of the books, it holds a special place in my heart.
Do you have any book recommendations? Do you have favorite authors or even a favorite quote?
Hang in there everyone!
Unfortunately, this is not canon! Jobie would NEVER go blonde
2025-01-17 19:00:07 +0000 UTC View PostLate at night, just off the road beside the church, Gene’s car shifted and swayed. The car was concealed by pine and the headlights dead, and occasionally a car would drive by without noticing. A leg was in the air, then in the back seat, then the car swayed, and then two silhouettes came together.
Every now and then- when Ramsey fell asleep and Abigail was working a night shift- Gene would sneak out with Ace. He would drive them down to the church beside the diner, and he would park the car in their spot. Music would play, they would talk, and then they would kiss. The first time they did this, the headlights from passing cars would light their escapade and frighten them, and they would drive home. But after their fourth time at this spot, they paid less mind.
Gene was pulled down by the collar of his shirt into a kiss. He was over Ace in the back seat with his forearms holding himself up and one foot on the floor of the car. He couldn't fit both knees on the bench. They stayed stomach to stomach, kissing, and Gene’s radio played quietly in the front seat while their lips pecked and pressed. Gene’s gold cross necklace hung and laid flat against Ace.
Gene turned his head the other way then pressed his face into Ace’s curled hair to kiss the side of his warm neck. Ace reached up and pulled his own hair aside.
Then, the hum of a car passed on the road and it’s lights went across the ceiling.
“Wait-” Ace said in a whisper.
Gene leaned away and stared down at Ace’s face. Ace began to sit up, and Gene sat back onto one calf to let him. Ace moved his hair to the other shoulder and looked out the back window, then craned his neck to look behind himself.
Gene watched him, and he watched the shape of his profile and how Ace’s nose slid down into a point.
“Okay,” Ace said, “Sorry.”
And they began kissing again.
Ace laid back on the bench, and Gene laid atop him. Ace wrapped his arms around Gene's neck and ran his fingers up his thick hair, which had grown to Gene’s shoulders. They kissed, and smiled, and moved against one another. Then, Gene’s belt began to jingle. He slipped the leather strap from its loop and let both ends hang open. He then raised himself with one arm to get Ace’s belt too.
Then, there were three knocks on the window.
Gene stared down at Ace, and he had suddenly become very still. Ace stared back at him while the radio played quietly from the front seat. A bright light shined at the back of Gene’s head through the windows, then the light lowered.
Both men did not breathe, and they did not move. Gene could see Ace’s eyes going back and forth between his own.
“Come on out,” said a gruff, older man from outside the car.
“Gene,” Ace whispered.
Gene began to sit up and held a finger to his own lips, still staring at Ace. He then turned back to see a man standing in a tan button up that hugged his rotund stomach and tucked into dark brown pants. He wore a cowboy hat, had a downturned mustache, and stood with a hand on his belt and the flashlight pointing down at his own boots. This was sheriff Milson.
Gene tightened his belt and began to shift, maneuvering himself to turn and pop open the back seat door so he could step out. His sneaker crackled on the gravel beneath, and he shut the door behind him. The flashlight raised, and a star of light hit Gene’s eyes.
“You’re Abigail’s kid.” Milson said, then spit on the ground. He was chewing tobacco.
Gene raised his hand to cast a shadow over his eyes. His hand was shaking, but his face was stoic.
Milson grinned, and then he began to chuckle “Now I just know your momma didn’t raise you to be acting like this. What in the hell do you think you’re doin out here, huh?”
Gene said nothing.
“You don’t have somewhere else to do this?” Milson asked, then spit again. “talk,”
“No sir,” Gene replied.
“Now that can’t be true. You realize you could be put on a list for this?”
“Yes sir.”
“Would you prefer I take you to the station or wake up your parents?” he asked, then walked around Gene to the side door again to knock on the window. “You too missy,” he said, “Get out here.”
Gene stood very still and stared at sheriff Milson’s gun holster. He waited, and he listened, and the car door on the other side popped open. Gravel settled, then the door closed.
Milson raised his light.
Both boys stood silent, and so too did the sheriff. He kept his light on Ace for a very long time, and then he turned the light back on Gene. Gene’s forehead had gone glossy with sweat, and his broad chest visibly raised and lowered. A wind stuck to Gene’s damp skin and made the pine needles encasing them rustle.
“I ought to shoot both of you in the head,” sheriff Milson said, slowly. “Save your mothers the heartache of what you were doin here tonight.”
He shifted, and wiped his nose with his wrist. Then, he sighed heavy and looked back at the dirt road cutting through the trees. Gene looked up too, and past the black outline of the trees was the pointed tip of the church. Stars speckled the sky. Then, Milson looked at Gene again, and Gene looked down.
“Alright. I never wanna see you two together again,” he said. “I don’t care if I see you walking through town, or fishing, or waving across a cliff at each other. You don’t nip this tonight you’ll get shot by someone else that t’aint me.” Then he spit.
Gene could feel Milson eyeing them back and forth. Ace sniffed, and shifted on the gravel.
“Who’s car is this?” asked Milson.
Gene looked at Ace, and Ace did not look back. Then, Gene looked out at the road which was a few feet behind Milson. With one wheel on the road and one in the gravel was the back half of the sheriff’s patrol car.
“His,” Gene said.
“Well, alright then,” said Milson, “Come on.”
He gestured for Gene to follow, then turned and walked from the private spot into the clearing. Gene looked at Ace again, and Ace still looked down at the ground. Then, Gene slid his hands into his pockets and began to walk forward away from Ace, leaving him in the dark pine cove.
The sheriff popped open the back seat and left it open for Gene, then went to the passengers door. Gene took hold of the door and opened it fully to step inside the car, then close himself inside. He was separated from Milson through a cross hatch barred window, so thin Gene couldn’t stick a finger through. He didn’t lean against the backrest, and instead stared forward at the back of Milson’s seat. The engine came to life and began to hum, and soon, the car was rolling out of the gravel and onto the road.
Milson turned the dial for the radio, and Johnny Cash began to serenade the car while they drove. For a long time, Gene didn’t say anything. He wondered, to himself, if Ace would follow them home and reveal they were neighbors.
“You’re real stupid,” Milson said, and looked at Gene through the rear view mirror.
Gene didn’t reply.
“I’m not taking you in, y’know,” Milson said. Gene looked up at Milson’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “I could, and you’d get taken to a camp that could fix you up. But I’m not gonna. Ask me why.”
“Why,” Gene said.
“Cause you ain't the type, and I reckon you can figure it out on your own. You like girls?”
“Yes sir,” Gene said.
“Well there ya go. See, it’s something we all get to choose, every day, when we wake up and when we go to bed. You chose wrong tonight, and that’s a lesson. Some types make the wrong choice every day, and theres no helping em.”
Gene looked out the window, and Milson kept talking. He pictured Ace’s face, then his long hair. He pictured how he popped one hip when he stood, and how he crossed his arms so his hands were tucked in at the sides. He felt, truly, content that Ace had taken his car home.
Sheriff Milson turned his car to ride the curb in front of Gene’s house, then he pulled it into park. Gene heard a flick, and the lights above the car began to flash blue and red which lit the front of the cabin, into his parent’s window. Gene and Milson waited, and after some time, Milson made the car siren yelp. It was then that the light came on through the window. Then the next window, then the front porch lights.
The door came open, and there stood a very large and gruff man in a robe, slippers, and boxers. He held his hand up to shield his eyes.
“Alright,” Milson said, “Go on then.”
Gene looked at Milson’s eyes through the mirror again before he popped open the car door and stepped out. Both heels hit the curb, and before he shut the door Milson said;
“Say hi to your ma for me.”
Then, the door closed and Milson turned the car to attempt a three point turn. As he drove in the opposite direction he arrived in, he shut off the lights.
Both Ramsey and Gene watched him go. His car back lights went from two to one, and Gene put his hands in his pockets.
Ramsey whistled for Gene.
Gene turned and walked to the front porch and up the wooden steps. As he came up Ramsey rubbed his eye with his palm and stepped back into the house. Gene followed behind and closed the front door.
The house was cold, even in mid spring. Ramsey shut off the heater at night to save money. Gene began to kick off his shoes, then rolled his brown jacket off his shoulders to hook on the coat hanger.
“Hey,” Ramsey said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He breathed deeply, tired. “What’s that about?”
“Sheriff Milson,” Gene said. He put his hands in his back pockets.
“What about him?”
“Got caught with a girl.”
Ramsey said nothing. Gene could hear him breathing slowly through his nose, and he could feel Ramsey staring at his face. He did not look back.
“You snuck out?” Ramsey asked.
“Yea.”
“Mm,” Ramsey hummed, low, and looked down.
Gene shifted in his place. His golden cross necklace felt heavy against his collarbones.
“You shouldn’t be doin that,” Ramsey said.
Gene nodded.
“You wanna marry her?” He asked.
Gene didn’t reply, and Ramsey let out a grim hum. Gene stood still, and Ramsey stared at him for a very long time. Then, Ramsey stood from the wall and began walking back down the hall to his bedroom.
“I’ll tell Abigail,” he said. “You do my chores tomorrow.”
“I got work,” Gene replied.
Ramsey said nothing, and he went to bed. Gene stayed standing in the front entrance with his hands in his back pockets, staring at the carpet.
When he went down to the basement- his room- he called Ace’s line. There was no response. He wondered if he would have his car to drive to work.
2025-01-14 19:00:08 +0000 UTC View Post
I realized I needed to get this out FAST. I will not be able to make this early access since it needs to go up asap. However, you'll still be getting your regularly scheduled content tomorrow :)
2025-01-14 02:38:30 +0000 UTC View Post
