08 May 2011 @ 11:50 am
At The Moment (My Very Last AWZ Fic)  
Title: At The Moment
Author: [info]lilithilien
Fandom/Characters: Alles Was Zählt, Deniz, Roman, Marc with mentions of others
Word Count: 3500 words
Rating: Gen
Summary: A night at home with the GBWI and their favourite TV show.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though if they were they would not be suffering through this shit.
A/N: Dear Momo, your birthday fic started out as a just a simple update on what the boys and Keule were doing these days. Then it turned into a cathartic braindump that's half crack, half meta, and half the state of my current feelings on fandom. (Yes, that's three halves, just go with it - it makes as much sense as anything else happening on Show these days.) This fic would not have been possible without the input of many people: [info]aldiara and [info]praderwilli and the other tweetskimos for cop school and Alkim, [info]redcouchaddict for ~walking~, Hans von Hozel for his inspiring stories, the always lovely Celine LaFraud and always crappy Antoine Doucheford for At The Moment, George and Sheepie and others whose names have thankfully disappeared in the anals of time (typo intended) for generating such mockable wank, the possum and his pompous predictions of preposterousness, and finally to Alles Was Zählt who has become like the best friend I had in college who turned right wing and now supports the death penalty now; love her still, love what we had, but just don’t know her anymore. In any case, I hope you enjoy it, and know that my love for you and the sane corner of this fandom abounds.


Roman got home a few minutes after seven. As he unlocked his door, he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex. Stepping inside his apartment, his vision was filled with the disturbing sight of an attractive dark-haired man engaged in what could only be called a “hard fuck” with an insect-thin brunette.

He leaned over the back of the couch and watched their pained, robotic faces for a second before rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re still watching that crap.”

“Can’t help it, it’s addictive.” At least that’s what Roman thought he said. It was hard to tell around the kernels of popcorn that Deniz was shovelling into his mouth.

Deniz had taken to life in Hamburg like a hockey player takes to deep heating rub. So well, in fact, that sometimes Roman wondered why they hadn’t left Essen years earlier. There’d been nothing for him there but bartending at No.7 or begging for crumbs from Richard Steinkamp. A ridiculous future for someone with as much energy and enthusiasm as Deniz had, and when Roman was offered the job with Marc’s production company, they’d abandoned Essen and moved north. Here in St. Georg, with the promise of police academy ahead, he’d finally agreed to finish his coursework and get his diploma. And to achieve the peak physical form that the police demanded of recruits, he was working out nearly as much as he’d done in their pair skating days. Roman got to reap the benefit of that, of course, and these days, he didn’t even have to badger Deniz to go to the gym or barter for club nights.

Anyway, nights at their apartment were more fun than any club.

Their eating habits still left something to be desired, however. Roman stared into the fridge, then poked his head in the cupboards, as if his will alone could transform the single tube of tomato sauce and jar of olives into something appetizing. But he had to face the awful truth: they’d have to arrange a grocery expedition soon. “God, so boring,” Roman thought to himself. “It’s like living in a shitty Pinter play.”

Aloud, he said, “So do we have dinner plans? Or is it just popcorn on the menu?”

“Marc called. He’s picking up Thai.”

So that was dinner sorted. Which left time for a few cuddles and kisses – or, more accurately, a lap to flop his head down on and catch a quick nap. There’d be no time for sleep once Marc flung open the door and his two lovers got started.

It was a failproof plan, if not for that damnable soap that Deniz had started watching again.

“So what’s happening now?” he asked, more to be polite than anything. It never hurt to coddle your cushion, after all.

“You really don’t want to know.”

Roman watched as an admittedly fit man raced around a shipyard, sniffing – Roman blinked and looked again, and yes, he really was sniffing – brightly coloured shipping containers. “No, I know. Tell me anyway.”

And so, as Roman helped himself to fistfuls of popcorn, Deniz filled him in on the trials and tribulations of At The Moment. It’d been a story that Roman had loved, once upon a time: two gay figure skaters finding love and fighting prejudice at a struggling skating centre, surrounded by friends and rivals that sometimes, somehow, rose above their stereotypes. The stories had even been good enough that he’d been able to overlook the (often painful) inaccuracies in the skating competitions.

But since Deniz and Roman had left Essen, it seemed the stories had changed. It wasn’t just that ATM seemed to increasingly tiptoe along a line that bordered on homophobia. That in itself would have kept Roman glued to the screen to see what offensive things they’d come up with next. No, it was more that the things that had drawn him to the show – the way they seemed to sneak in extra levels of meaning, or laugh at themselves in an endearing way – were gone. The plots became too simplistic, as did the characters who he’d once loved for their complexities. And Robert Buchmann and Daniþ Ozan, the skating couple around whom the series revolved, had become all but unrecognizable.

Now it was so bad that Roman was planting his face into Deniz’s thigh. It was a nice thigh, and he could think of much better things he could do with it, but right now nothing seemed quite as needful as that.

“Are you kidding?” he said, pulling himself out of his disbelief long enough to ask. “Daniþ slept with a woman? That looked like some horrible cracky dream.”

“No, it wasn’t, and yeah, he did. His father’s girlfriend.”

“Who cares whose girlfriend it is? I mean yeah, sucks to be Mirim, but a woman? Really?”

“I know. Totally destroys Daniþ’s character development, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s like when he first came on the show.” Roman thought about those early days and Daniþ’s coming out story, and then shook his head. “No, no, it’s not. That made sense – he was just a kid, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.”

“Hey!” objected Deniz, flicking Roman’s forehead hard. “I was the same age when I came out.”

“Hey!” Roman rubbed his stinging forehead. “Yeah, and as I recall, you were just as confused. Which is fine—” he hastened to add before Deniz could flick him again. “It’s just that now, if you were to sleep with a woman… well, it’d be very…”

“Stupid.”

“Completely.” He looked at the screen where Daniþ and Robert were hugging in a awkwardly unfamiliar way. “And I assume he hasn’t told Robert?”

“No, but he found out. He ove—”

“…overheard it at the Centre,” Roman chimed in in unison. That old soap staple had never faltered; if anybody had any secret, the first thing they did was talk about it at the skating centre. (And Roman knew he probably shouldn’t pat himself on the back for how Deniz had found out about Marc, because that had been truly nightmarish, but it was still less ridiculous than that.) “And they’re back together already? How’d that happen?”

Deniz covered his face with his hands. “Dude, you really don’t want to know.”

“No, I do.” Roman didn’t know why, but he did. It was like a mystery that he wanted to solve, as if by figuring out the moment things went wrong, he might see it in a different way, a way that made sense. It was pointless, he knew that; like taking apart the VCR when he was twelve and – not being the least bit mechanically inclined – being unable to reassemble it. But he still couldn’t resist.

Deniz cracked his fingers and peered through, making sure that Roman was serious. When he seemed convinced, he reached for the remote and rewound the recording. “They were right in the middle of the German championships, see, and Robert was pissed off at Dan—” Just then Deniz’s phone rang. He squinted at the screen, then looked apologetic. “It’s my brother, I need to take it.”

Sighing, Roman slid into a seated position; there was no chance of a nap now. “Go ahead.”

His agreement earned him a cursory kiss on the cheek that took as long as it took Deniz to flip his phone up. “Alo, Alkim? What’s up?”

For a few seconds, Roman tried to follow the one-sided conversation, but his attention was pulled to a baleful music montage on the screen. He assumed that it was supposed to suggest despondency but really just reminded him of a crazy Korean video that Flo had once shown him on Youtube. It was the kind of thing that you’d watch without any thought but still be too distracted to do anything else; probably the perfect thing if you had the kind of miserable mundane life that most soap viewers did, and wanted to wipe it clean without any thought.

It didn’t appeal to him, though, and Roman was relieved to hear the scrape of a key in the door signalling the arrival of their third flatmate. The door opened with BOOM! and Marc sauntered through, arms laden with white takeaway bags and a bottle of chardonnay. He took one look at Deniz chattering on the phone and smirked. It was that same smirk that had always made Roman feel like he was in the middle of a flying spin, when the centre of gravity shifted and the world was no longer steady or still. Once he was sure he’d lost it forever, then that he’d lost it again. He could live without Marc, just like he knew he could live without skating. But just like he’d miss the thrill of competition, the euphoria and applause that accompanied a perfect routine, just like it felt like a piece of his soul had been neatly carved off and sealed away when he gave up the ice, so he knew it would be when he gave up Marc.

He could have done it, he’d told himself as he had watched Marc’s taxi pull away. He might have had doubts, and he might have lost some of his vitality, but he could do it. For Deniz. But right from the start, Deniz had known that something wasn’t right; that what he was getting wasn’t all that Roman had to give. And then, out of the blue, Deniz had proposed something different, something that would work for all three of them. From that moment, Roman knew that he’d made the right choice.

He gave Deniz’s knee a squeeze before following Marc to the kitchen. The table was already covered with bags and Marc was bent over the drawer. Roman stepped up behind and slid his palm along the front of his work trousers. “Shouldn’t we wait until Deniz gets off the phone?”

Marc made an agreeable humming noise and pressed his groin into Roman’s hand, trapping it against the drawer. But just as he groped for the zipper, Marc twisted easily around in his arms, displaying the natural grace he’d always had as a skater despite the extra weight that the years had brought. He brandished the corkscrew in Roman’s face. “Shouldn’t we wait ’til after dinner? You don’t want him to be rushing through like last time.”

Sighing, Roman let his hands fall, allowing Marc to bestow a consolation kiss as he slipped past. “It’ll be a while, I’m afraid. He’s got a week’s worth of Show to catch up on tonight.”

Marc frowned. “I thought he said he was done with that.”

“Yeah, well…”

He turned away to get dishes from the cabinet, but not before Marc noticed and raised his brow. “Oh no. Don’t tell me he’s got you hooked back in too?”

“You just wouldn’t believe what they’re doing to them!” Roman said, a bit too defensively, perhaps; okay, most definitely, but it wasn’t fair. Marc had watched ATM as devoutly as he had at one time, but had somehow cut the ties without looking back. His ability to do that so completely was envious and, Roman thought, just a little suspicious.

“Anyway,” he said, hefting down their three biggest plates, “you might as well watch too, you won’t be able to drag our little Öztürk away for a good hour at least.”

Marc looked at the bags on the table. “Guess we should eat on the couch then.”

He sounded fine about it, and Roman smiled. “If you don’t mind.” Marc had always hated eating crowded around a coffee table, much preferring the civility of a table. Deniz, of course, was just the opposite. At first, it’d seemed like just another of those signs that this arrangement was not going to work out. But over time, Roman had seen both men compromise, and both seemed to have genuinely changed. Either Marc didn’t mind doing it now, or he didn’t mind the concession. In either case, Roman was sincerely pleased.

Marc grabbed spoons while Roman peeked under the tops of the foil pans in the bags. As the rich scents of lemongrass and curry hit his nose, he remembered something he’d meant to ask.

“Oh hey, did you run into Keule?”

Their old friend had arrived in Hamburg shortly after they did. He’d inherited a windfall from a rich relation, so the story went, although the details were fuzzy. Somehow he’d ended up in Thailand for a while with Ingo’s old friend Hotte, who for some reason Roman couldn’t fathom wanted to abandon the beaches for the overcast stressful life of Germany. Hotte and Keule had purchased a rundown café at Kollwitzplatz that they, with the help of Renate Scholz, were turning into a booming Thai restaurant.

“Just for a second. Phuket was crazy busy tonight. But he sends his love and says Annette’s on the warpath because you haven’t called in eons.”

Roman snorted; Annette’s definition of eons was roughly four days. “Okay, I’ll ring her this weekend.” He picked up the plates laden with food. “You ready for this?”

Marc grabbed a handful of spoons and said in a voice as dry as the Sahara, “Two hours of ATM? I can’t think of anything better.”

“Don’t worry,” Roman assured, giving Marc a mild shove as he hoisted the pans with the other hand. “I’m sure we can get him to make it up to us.”

Deniz was just hanging up the phone as they returned to the living room. Roman liked to think his boyfriend’s eyes got their wide hungry look at the sight of his two lovers coming toward him, but he had to admit it was probably the panang curry that piqued his interest. Still, Deniz exuberantly kissed both him and Marc as they sat on either side of him.

“You owe us for this, just so you know,” Marc warned as Deniz attacked the pad thai. Deniz looked up in confusion, and Marc nodded towards the television. “For watching this shit that you know is just going to piss you off. Serious penance is required – spanking, even. Don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes,” Roman concurred. “We’re talking sling, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, sling. Definitely.” Marc slid his hand up to Deniz’s throat and pressed, gently threatening, on his windpipe. “And maybe a little more...”

At Deniz’s choked gasp, Roman mockingly reassured him, “Don’t worry, Schatz. I’ve been told that gay men don’t engage in kink like that. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“We don’t have to watch now...” Deniz offered, a little too eagerly, his voice a little too ragged. Deniz’s cheeks flushed red, that little hint of boyishness that he still retained despite growing up in every other way. Someone who wasn’t paying attention might think it was shyness. But Roman, who’d learned Deniz’s appetite for breathplay, knew it was anything but.

Just to tease he said, “Well, we do have dinner...” Roman gestured toward the food piled on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Marc agreed, to Roman’s surprise and dismay. “And you really want to watch ATM, I know.”

“Mhmm.”

Deniz looked doubtful; Roman was too, and he glanced over to see if anything might be given away, but Marc’s face was a blank slate; one that purposefully refused to look directly at Roman as he reached for the remote control. “So wait, what’s happening?” he asked when he saw Robert and Daniþ arguing in the locker room.

“Daniþ cheated on Robert—”

“With a woman,” Roman interjected.

“This is your fault, you know.” Marc said. “You were shipping Daniþ with that other guy, what was his name? Ben? Tom?”

“Jon,” Deniz said.

Roman groaned, remembering the most idiotic argument they'd ever had. “I still don’t think the network was spying on our conversation.”

“I don’t know,” Deniz said. “We had been through a lot getting them back together. It was kinda like a full-time job.”

Roman and Marc both levelled their gaze on Deniz, but it was Marc who said, “For you maybe, schoolboy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just drop it,” said Roman. “I swear, sometimes you two make me wish I wasn’t gay. Maybe I'll just be a woman for a while.”

“Please don't. So anyway,” Deniz said, picking up the plot in progress, “now Daniþ wants to talk about it but Robert won’t listen.”

“What do you mean he won’t listen?” asked Marc. “He’s right there, Daniþ is right there, they could easily— wait, where is he going?” Marc jiggled his spoon in frustration as they watched Daniþ storm out of the locker room. Roman wanted to laugh at the sudden interest Marc was taking; it put Deniz’s attention to shame. At the same time, he figured it’d be better for the future of their evening if he just enjoyed his chicken rama in silence. Hotte was right; he really did know how to make peanut butter his bitch.

Now that Marc was engaged, it was easier to join in, and dinner progressed through a series of outraged cries – “they just let Daniþ interrupt that skater’s routine like that?” – to squirms of embarrassment – “friends don’t let friends make public declarations of love” – and finally to disbelieving dismay – “seriously? That’s the first thing Robert says, that she’s Mirim’s girlfriend? Like he’d give a fuck about that!” But even so, Roman remained sceptical of how quickly Marc got involved in the story, considering how he had disparaged it even earlier that night. His suspicion grew when Marc said, “I heard a rumour that the guy who plays Robert is leaving in May.”

“Oh yeah?” Roman narrowed his eyes. “Who said that?”

“Oh, I don’t remember.” Which of course was ludicrous, because Marc had a near-photographic memory of people and what they said. It was pretty much the opposite of Roman, who could perfectly recall a skating routine after seeing it a single time but even to save his life could not remember whether it was the head accountant or the costumer who just yesterday had railed at the exorbitant cost of sequins. Marc on the other hand could recall not only what was said and who had said it, but what they were wearing, where they were, and what music was playing in the background. It was an insanely useful and mysteriously unattainable talent, Roman had always thought. Now it was his downfall, and as he muttered “just some guy online,” his shaded eyes revealed that he knew he was busted.

“Aha!” exclaimed Roman. “You’ve been lurking on the message board!”

“I have not! Well,” Marc grimaced, “maybe once or twice.”

“Anyway, it’s May now,” pointed out Deniz helpfully. “Is this from the same guy who said their contracts both end in June?”

Roman’s attention darted to Deniz. “What? You read that crap too?”

“Yeah,” Marc answered Deniz’s questions, rolling his eyes, “and that they’d get back together again. Because the network would do anything to keep Daniþ and Robert together.”

“He’s a moron,” said Deniz dismissively.

“Completely,” agreed Marc. “Anybody with half a brain can see that Robert’s going to die.”

Roman blinked. “You think?”

“Oh yeah. They’re going for the old tragic fag cliché – probably with some lingering illness. That actually doesn’t linger long, just enough for Daniþ to find peace so he can seamlessly move into his new straight life.”

Deniz looked pained but thoughtful. “That’d be crazy. They handled gaybashing so well, and HIV too – wouldn’t they see how politically incorrect that is? It’d be such a huge ‘fuck you’ to the gay audience, especially the ones who came back after the Daniþ/Clarissa mess.”

Roman stabbed a mushroom and dragged it through the curry sauce. They probably will, he thought, and probably won’t think twice about the offensive message they’re sending out: that the only acceptable gay man is a dead one, one whose corpse can no longer mince or prance or snap a punch line like a whip. It was a shame that there were no actual gay people involved in making At The Moment, no one who could tell them just how backwards and prejudiced such an ending would be. But, Roman realised, if they did do this, then at long last he could say goodbye to the series forever. This was not something he would want to see.

He reached for the remote and switched the television off, even though there were several episodes left. “I think we’ve seen enough.” No one protested.

As the image on the screen imploded into a tiny dot of light, and then disappeared, Roman slid his plate into the last clear spot on the coffee table, then took Deniz’s away and stacked it on top. “And now,” he purred, immediately rewarded with the rapt attention of both his lovers, “I think you owe us.”

~~~ The End ~~~
 
 
( Post a new comment )
Momo: Marc by Fanatic 3-99[info]momogermany on May 8th, 2011 04:52 am (UTC)
OMG! Thank you so much Lil for this priceless story! Lololol! Now I finally understand the full meaning of comment fic. Don't even know where to start. Ok, embracing your three halves theory, this:

First half of me is still rolling helplessly on the floor, laughing. Deniz!Cop! Deniz!Soapfan! Grocery plot (boring!) sniffing!!! Hahaha! And Mirim! That's definitely how I will call him from now on! Alkim! Smirking Marc! Who reads fanboards!!! Haha, can you imagine him? Hunched over his laptop,wearing sexy reading glasses, sipping chilled chardonnay while frowning over possumspeak. I love you, Marc ! And Hotte and Keule!
So,experienced as you are in geography stretching, could you please move “Phuket” to Berlin and book a table for 15? Vielen Dank!Although home delivery by Marc is an acceptable alternative.
And then you introduced me to Hans von Hozel! Dying! Why had I never heard of him before, lol! Ok, I have to stop now before I quote every reference back at you, but,oh my, so much love for this! And in admiration for the way, that in the middle all this glorious crackiness, your characterizations are as spot on as ever. This is Deniz, Roman and Marc the way we loved and always remember them. Tears in my eyes!

Which brings me to my second half, the one that you still manage to kill sometimes with your bitterness and cynicism at what show and fandom have come to. A stupid soap and its stupid fans should not be able to make someone feel like that, especially not someone like you, who invested so much time, love and energy in both. Seeing you turn these emotions into something as fabulous and funny as this fic makes me giddily happy.

And finally my third and very substantial half wants more of this show. Not the stupid Robert/Danib crap, I'm as done with that as Roman is.
I want the spin-off, the one that's set in Hamburg, or in Siberia, or Mallorca, what do I care!
The one that has the good writers and the real characters and the interesting stories.
THE SHOW MUST GO ON!
*hugs you silly for giving all of us this wonderfully crazy, oh so true fic*
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Lilith: awz-romarc bed[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 08:29 am (UTC)
YAY! I'm thrilled that you liked your fic!

And this image of Marc - Hunched over his laptop,wearing sexy reading glasses, sipping chilled chardonnay while frowning over possumspeak - is giving me all kinds of happy thoughts. (My god, I've never missed a guest star in any show as much as I miss Marc Hagendorf.) Truly, that description just sends my imagination into overdrive. This really should be a spin-off, it'd be so much more interesting to follow even their most domestic activities like grocery shopping and ironing!

And I am so happy that you can appreciate the, um, "creative" ways that I channel my bitterness. It's better than going completely grey, right?

Looking forward to having dinner with you at Phuket very soon!!

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Momo: Marc strange by lilith[info]momogermany on May 8th, 2011 08:52 am (UTC)
And I just wonder how much Marc knows about this
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Lilith: awz-fluff[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 10:00 pm (UTC)
Probably all, just like he knows about Roman's super sekrit hobby.
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Amilee: Alkim - awesomesauce[info]amilee123 on May 8th, 2011 05:07 am (UTC)
I now think that every fic should have three halves ;)

You covered quite a bit in 3000 words! At the Moment, Alkim, Keule, Hamburg, certain online oracles, delusional message boards, "But we worked so hard for this pairing!", reminiscing about the good stuff, pinpointing when it became bad stuff, the cluelessness (or apathy) of TPTB... you certainly can't say this fandom is boring. This evokes so many memories for me; some of them are shitty and I still get mad even thinking about them but some are so so good. One of my favorite memories of this fandom is sitting with my laptop for hours on end commenting, replying, discussing, debating, etc. in a world that was abuzz with activity. I remember opening my email during those days and seeing that I had 200+ YouTube notifications (which pales in comparison to the several thousand you must have gotten). There was lots of wank, shitty people, stupid people, shitty AND stupid people, and plenty of frustrations but I'm going to focus on the good right now: getting to know you and the other Eskimos in a way I hadn't been able to before. And I am so very glad that I did because I couldn't imagine my life without you all.

It's awesome that you can use your writing talents to vent your frustrations - I just start swearing and yelling inappropriate things in inappropriate situations when I get really pissed, your method is much better.

I know this is supposed to be a rant but it's a beautiful rant. Only you would include insightful characterizations in a rant. This line just gets me: He could live without Marc, just like he knew he could live without skating. *gulp* Sheesus woman! I just got this heart and now you're trying to rip it out! Also:

He could have done it, he’d told himself as he had watched Marc’s taxi pull away. He might have had doubts, and he might have lost some of his vitality, but he could do it. For Deniz. But right from the start, Deniz had known that something wasn’t right; that what he was getting wasn’t all that Roman had to give. And then, out of the blue, Deniz had proposed something different, something that would work for all three of them. From that moment, Roman knew that he’d made the right choice.

Yes, I quoted the entire paragraph. I tried to pick just a line or two because I always feel a bit silly quoting massive blocks of people's writing in a comment but I couldn't pare it down because it is one heart-string-tugging package.

Catharsis is good. I hope this helped you. And thank-you for reminding me of such special times. *squiiiiish*
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Lilith: awz-proud members of the mhas[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 08:39 am (UTC)
OMG U HAZ ALKIM ICON! ADSASFJDKDKLFDFJJKAJFSDKJLDSFJKHDFAKJDSFLH

Oh honey, your comment makes me wish I could reach out and give you the hugest hug in the world. There has been so much stupid, and I don't even want to think about how many grey hairs they've caused, but that's all been outweighed by the amount of awesomesauce that you and the other eskimos have generated.

BUT KEEP YOUR HEART! It needs to stay right where it is. Don't worry, there's no more heartbreak/heartache. All worked out, and they're living the life that you made canon in "Only One Thing To Do"!

(Also, it's egotistical probably, but I love when commenters quote whole paragraphs. I love to know exactly what people like.)

Thank you, my love. I'm so glad you liked this!
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geekchick1013: AWZ RoMarc Unresolved[info]geekchick1013 on May 8th, 2011 06:39 am (UTC)
Basically WORD to everything Momo & Amilee said.

So much love for this. This is total canon. I cannot stop giggle at all the references. <3333333333333333333 I have a feeling I can read it ten times and find something new to chortle over each time.

YAY for cathartic crackfic!
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Lilith: awz-marc & deniz are much better naked[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 08:42 am (UTC)
Of course it's canon! Deniz and Roman split 100 episodes ago! :D I'm so glad that you liked all the references, I had a lot of fun twisting so many icky things into something silly.
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Aldi: AWZ: DeRoMarc breakfast[info]aldiara on May 8th, 2011 07:21 am (UTC)
I love this fic so damn much, Lil! First of all, I adore the meta, and all the references and snark and shout-outs to the fail (lololol, SO MUCH FAIL, WTF FANDOM!!). Pinter! Crappy show is crappy! Marc lurking on message boards! All the biting awesome spot-on commentary on all the fuck-ups of Show!

But I think what I love even more than the crack & meta are all the glimpses of their casually happy, interesting lives in Hamburg - the way the characters just crackle off the page with all their awesome banter and the lovely *genuine* feel of this threesome arrangement. The little thoughtful paragraphs about how Roman struggled with giving up Marc, and how Deniz and Marc worked at compromises in order to fit into each other's lives - that whole paragraph about eating at the coffee table vs. the dining area honestly gave me the warm fuzzies. These are the characters I loved, as opposed to the lame Robert/Daniþ replacements. Thanks so much for bringing them back for this. HAMBURG THREESOME IS THE ONLY CANON WE HAVE NOW! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
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Lilith: awz-voting madness[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 09:26 am (UTC)
*hugs* I'm so glad you liked their domestic life of domesticity. At the risk of sounding like Harald Pinter, those are the kinds of situations that I most like to imagine them in - those little simple and often non-dramatic moments of compromise, the same kind that Deniz and Roman went through when they first moved in together, that would be so much more confusing and fragile when there are three individuals involved. (And how much more interesting would that be than current AWZ anyway?)

And OMG the amount of crap we've had to slog through. WE'VE WORKED SO HARD FOR THIS FANDOM LOL. At least there's been plenty of fodder for crackfic at the end of the day. And it really is the end of the day. I like our new canon so much better!

Thank you so much for giggling so much over my silly fic!



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amo_amas_amat: Mad eskimo refresh[info]amo_amas_amat on May 8th, 2011 09:40 am (UTC)
bleuuuughhhhh LIL! I CANNOT. I failed at commenting last night because this deserved more than a couldn't-stop-myself-reading-it-even-though-it-was-stupidly-late comment. This is so much awesome.

I love most the little interactions and signs that they know each other really well and are fitting so well even with the things that are different and annoying about each other. And I especially mean this in the context of Deniz and food *ships*. I love that Roman and Marc scheme to feed Deniz before sex so he doesn't rush it and this:

Roman liked to think his boyfriend’s eyes got their wide hungry look at the sight of his two lovers coming toward him, but he had to admit it was probably the panang curry that piqued his interest.

And I may never use peanut butter again without thinking to myself, "I'm making you ma bitch!"

So much love for this fic, it feels like a gift to our little fandom as well as to Momo, just because it encapsulates so beautifully so much of our combined experience as well as reminding us of the characters we love (and the ones we have lost).

<333333
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Lilith: awz-trouble[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 12:55 pm (UTC)
I'm so glad you liked it! I adore this:

So much love for this fic, it feels like a gift to our little fandom as well as to Momo, just because it encapsulates so beautifully so much of our combined experience as well as reminding us of the characters we love (and the ones we have lost).

*hugs tight* This is just what I hoped for! I love their boring domestic life too, because they'd always get tied up in issues of some sort, and there would always be those kinds of games between them. And man it would make for a good show!

LOL Deniz/Dinner OTP! Just like Ben/Breakfast (their love is canon) and now Anna/Peanut Butter!
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쉘리 I whip my hair like Bang Bang: wheesung - lol[info]sdk on May 8th, 2011 01:00 pm (UTC)
Oh man. Lil. I just laughed throughout this whole thing--sometimes with sadness and sometimes with fond memories, and once because the idea of Flo watching kpop is fantastically hilarious.

Also, At Deniz’s choked gasp, Roman mockingly reassured him, “Don’t worry, Schatz. I’ve been told that gay men don’t engage in kink like that. So you have nothing to worry about.”
- LOLFOREVER

It's a bit bittersweet, I have to say, but I do much prefer this canon to the actual--Roman, Deniz and Marc out there watching the show/their poor imitation clones is a much better reality. Sign me up pls.

PS, as flattered as I am with the mention, you should really thank Fab for ~walking~ -- she created that masterpiece. :D
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Lilith: awz-marc's relieved sigh[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 01:47 pm (UTC)
OMG Shelly how did we survive all the stupid for so long? I don't even know! There should not be enough wank to supply this much material for fic!

I totally know what you mean about the bittersweetness, but I am 99% of the way to actually believing that this is canon and whatever we're seeing on screen is just a bad AU. Almost there.

you should really thank Fab for ~walking~ -- she created that masterpiece.

*facepalms forever* I feel so bad getting that mixed up. I WILL FIX!
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Aldi: AWZ: Deniz is smug[info]aldiara on May 8th, 2011 07:59 pm (UTC)
HaaaaaaahahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHHA I HAD MISSED THE BREATHPLAY BEFORE BECAUSE YOU ADDED IT LATER, YOU SNEAKY MINX. BWAHAHAHAAHAH. "GAY MEN DON'T ENGAGE IN KINK LIKE THAT!" *DIES* YES, IT'S VERY IMPORTANT TO PASS ON THIS MESSAGE! ONLY YOUNG BOYS DO IT! OMG DANGEROUS! HAHAHAHAAHAHAH! <33333333333

(Also love the Eskicanon continuity of "Deniz totes digs breathplay." WHEEEEEE!)
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Lilith: awz-groceries[info]lilithilien on May 8th, 2011 08:11 pm (UTC)
Oops, sorry! Yes, I wanted to mention ALL THE WANK. Except, um, then this would be 5000 times longer and 5000 times more sensitive and 5000 times sexier. Or something.

Anyway, YAY! I'm very glad to have a comprade in pushing these irresponsible stereotypical sexual practices that were never, ever mentioned in Show.
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winterlover: AWZ - Roman bliss[info]winterlover on May 9th, 2011 12:19 am (UTC)
Oh, new fic and I was not home to be able to comment! But I've read it yesterday, and now I'm home and I'd only need to say "Word!" to all the other comments.

But that wouldn't be enough because I like it so much!
(And I don't care if I'm repeating something the others already said.)

Haha, you really had me holding my breath during the first paragraph, but expecting, yes hoping for the awsome twist.

Threesome, Cop-school, working out, groceries-plot, no-to-kink -
C-A-N-O-N!
And: is there any other soap-fandom that makes me want to fetch and read my Pinter-books?

He could live without Marc, just like he knew he could live without skating. But just like he’d miss the thrill of competition, the euphoria and applause that accompanied a perfect routine, just like it felt like a piece of his soul had been neatly carved off and sealed away when he gave up the ice, so he knew it would be when he gave up Marc.

He could have done it, he’d told himself as he had watched Marc’s taxi pull away. He might have had doubts, and he might have lost some of his vitality, but he could do it. For Deniz. But right from the start, Deniz had known that something wasn’t right; that what he was getting wasn’t all that Roman had to give. And then, out of the blue, Deniz had proposed something different, something that would work for all three of them. From that moment, Roman knew that he’d made the right choice.


Oh, that made me wibble. I've been trying to think of arguments lately, why Roman gave up Marc, but you shattered all of them (*reconsiders whole work-in-progress*). And at the same time opened up many possibilities for drama about what had happened before Hamburg.

Marc had watched ATM as devoutly as he had at one time, but had somehow cut the ties without looking back. His ability to do that so completely was envious
Oh, I was envious as well, and so relieved in the end that even Marc couldn't withstand the temptation reading the message-boards.

I giggled through the whole bickering, and sling-threat/promise, but in the end the story made me sniffle as well. Realising how accurate it describes my (our) feelings about Show. How much is lost already. That all the fun we can make of the current SL is always combined with a feeling of hurt, and that's not as much fun as it should be.
And it made me a bit scared. Is invented invention something like double-negation? The truth? Should I do a Marc and not watch Show ever again (and move to Hamburg with two lovers)?

<3333333
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Lilith[info]lilithilien on May 11th, 2011 11:13 pm (UTC)
It's taken me forever to respond to your comment. I'm sorry, but since you've now gone to Hamburg yourself (presumably with two lovers) you probably don't mind too much. But OMG what a massively awesome comment. <333333

And now I want to read why you think Roman gave up Marc. So many different options (I guess we can thank Show for leaving it so open) and I love exploring them all.

I giggled through the whole bickering, and sling-threat/promise, but in the end the story made me sniffle as well. Realising how accurate it describes my (our) feelings about Show. How much is lost already. That all the fun we can make of the current SL is always combined with a feeling of hurt, and that's not as much fun as it should be.

*hugest squishy hugs ever* This sums up my feelings perfectly. I've never treated Show as a sacred cow that was above mocking - in fact, being able to do that (and realising that Show was often mocking itself as well) was what made this fandom so enjoyable. That's something I don't think we'll ever get back, and it does hurt.

I wish I could give up Show for good. Actually, after 1183, I think I have. There's just really nothing there for us anymore. (Also it's fitting that 100 eps after we stopped posting, we should stop finally watching.

But *hugs until you squeak* it'll be okay, because we still have the Igloo!
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[info]miss_lovelace on May 14th, 2011 08:22 am (UTC)
Who expects the Spanish Inquisition? With comfy chairs and cuddles
Now I have the time - and a pliant internet connection to write a little comment. I read your fic two days ago; and I loved it back then and I love it now. Even the third time around I still find these references; and this is what I like about literature. It's like a puzzle.

I literally squeeled shamelessly when I read this one:

"Their eating habits still left something to be desired, however. Roman stared into the fridge, then poked his head in the cupboards, as if his will alone could transform the single tube of tomato sauce and jar of olives into something appetizing. But he had to face the awful truth: they’d have to arrange a grocery expedition soon. “God, so boring,” Roman thought to himself. “It’s like living in a shitty Pinter play.”"

Can I just say: I was always fond of these cultural and literary references, even in SHOW. There are gone, too. Back in the days when there was sth like a decent plot there were characters who not only seemed to read newspapers - apart form the very high-brow Ruhr-Report, ahem - but even *gasps* books. Jenny and Roman got me hooked when they had their endearing and half-naked conversation about the Spanish Inquistion.

There is a Phuket in Berlin, appropriately next to the Schwules Museum. A little detail, though: is there a Kollwitzplatz in Hamburg? It seems a rather East-German thing, I think, to name places after communist female painters and their medical husbands. ;-)

And I really adored the whole conversation about message boards. Yes, and Marc would so have a peek into them. It starts as a guilty pleasure but then it can become rather addictive, too. Trust me, I know.


"Deniz looked pained but thoughtful. That’d be crazy. They handled gaybashing so well, and HIV too – wouldn’t they see how politically incorrect that is? It’d be such a huge ‘fuck you’ to the gay audience, especially the ones who came back after the Daniþ/Clarissa mess.”

Roman stabbed a mushroom and dragged it through the curry sauce. They probably will, he thought, and probably won’t think twice about the offensive message they’re sending out: that the only acceptable gay man is a dead one, one whose corpse can no longer mince or prance or snap a punch line like a whip. It was a shame that there were no actual gay people involved in making At The Moment, no one who could tell them just how backwards and prejudiced such an ending would be. But, Roman realised, if they did do this, then at long last he could say goodbye to the series forever. This was not something he would want to see."

Yup; I have to agree with that. It's bitter and politically wrong. The saddest thing is - for me - even if they come together again this wouldn't make anything better. On the contary, the mesage would still be it's perfectly okay to be de-gayed because all that matters is love. No, there are limits even to what the 'network' calls love!

Now, my comment has become a bit long-ish. I might come back and quote more of your beautiful piece. Next time I'll cuddle it a bit more. I hope it'll like it.
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Lilith: awz-dirty dero hater[info]lilithilien on May 14th, 2011 08:50 pm (UTC)
Re: Who expects the Spanish Inquisition? With comfy chairs and cuddles
Thanks so much for your comment. But I'm afraid that it might not make a lot of sense to anybody who hasn't followed comments on the EKP vids - 99% of this fic is from wank that was brought up over the years. For instance, there was no Pinter reference in Show - that was from a wanky comment exchange that Aldi had with someone. And yes, Kollwitzplatz is in Berlin, not Hamburg. It was intentionally moved so that Inga could be transported there - another of our attempts to bend geography to our will.

So I'm really sorry if the fic comes across as too cryptic. It was a gift to the Eskimos, and an attempt to say goodbye and good riddance to Show for what they've done/are going to do.

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[info]miss_lovelace on May 14th, 2011 11:33 pm (UTC)
Re: Who expects the Spanish Inquisition? With comfy chairs and cuddles
Why? Why would you be sorry? The story works perfectly fine the way it is; even without the audience needing to know every detail. And what's more, in a future anthology we can have a lot of lovely annotations ;-)

As far as I remember - and this wouldn't be very far - there was no reference to Pinter in SHOW; you are right. I meant that there were times when the writers could put some snippets of culture and literature into the script. And I liked it very much. Just like your reference to Pinter here. I don't necessarily need to know what some parts of the fic are actually referring to. I read some Pinter, so I did some guessing and this was fine with me. And thus the fic is not cryptic at all. It might be a lovely puzzle sometimes, but this is what makes it literary, no?

It's really endearing that you moved the Kollwitzplatz for Inga to Hamburg. I like the idea. (There are far too little places named after women here in Germany anyway. I know this wasn't the general idea.)

Please go on bending time and space. May the universe become a sparklier (is this the correct form?) place by doing so.
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