Help Pakistan

Real Life is hard: nasty, horrible things happen all the time, but in fandom, fantastic things like help_pakistan happen too.

I offered my services and I was really lucky, because the lovely sperrywink gave me the chance to make some art for her amazing story What Dreams May Come, a beautiful tale about longing, broken dreams and teleportation, and what really means to be a family.

The story is deceitfully silly in the beginning, and then it crushes your heart. It's complex and beautiful, and deserves art way better than mine, but I'm not going to complain, I'm incredibly happy and grateful for being able to make art for it.

Let me introduce you my bipolar homage to such lovely story.

Fic: The Love Of My Fucking Life.

Title: The love of my fucking life.
Author: aneas
Word-Count: 10 500.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Adam/Kris.
Disclaimer: This portrayal is entirely fictional. Not for profit, just for our entertainment.
Warnings: The guys are both assholes. No, really. They are.
Betas: My sweet, sweet cookie57. This is totally her fault. Believe me. This fic was 2 000 words long before she read it for the first time.
Notes: In this fic, Kris is the author of the song “The truth” instead of Pat Monahan & Toby Gad.

Summary: Kris feels like he should say something, something meaningful, that can sum up their relationship: beautiful parting words maybe, or even cruel ones, but something better than this horrible silence that stretches between them.

It’s no use. He’s always been shit at meaningfulness. With enough time, Kris usually comes up with profound, moving things. With enough time and distance, he even turns those things into songs.


Right now, looking at Adam, all he can come with is: `How did we let it end like this, so dreadful, so empty? When did we stop being enough for each other?´







( The Love Of My Fucking Life. )