A Tragedy With Tits

By Me:

B-Sides

Alt POVs and other snippets requested on tumblr.

General popstar!au tag

If you go back far enough you will be able to see all 10 months of me blabbing about the fic on tumblr before I started posting. CONTAINS SPOILERS

Phorid

Graphic for my beloved fake technical death metal band.

❤️ By Others:

BVCK METAL

Metal playlist by the lovely @setmeatopthepyre! Complete w/ many notes about why which song was chosen.

Phorid Logo

The logo for Tommy's metal band! Also made by @setmeatopthepyre.

Title Header

Title header used for Chapter 2! By the also lovely @trombonechurchill.

Tommy Fanart

Absolutely incredible art of Tommy in his Phorid merch by the wonderful @pluralityofaxes!

Dag Fanart

More phenomenal art from @pluralityofaxes, this time of my favorite dead son Dag Ahlström.

collapse Playlist

A wonderful playlist by @geddyqueer about some musical stuff re: Phorid, specifically for their song collapse.

Tommy Fanart

Amazing fanart of Tommy playing the drums by @chimneyz!

Birgit Fanart

Very cute Birgit fanart by @peppermintquartz!

borealis Album Cover

A fantastic Phorid album/cassette cover by @pluralityofaxes!

Tommy Fanart

Another spectacular Tommy by @pluralityofaxes!

Buck Fanart

Beautiful stickerbook Buck by @pluralityofaxes!

Speculative Stuff

Thrilled to announce that people are interested in playing in the Popstar!au sandbox. None of these are 'canon' to the universe. Some are fanworks about my OCs.

pickup sticks

A drabble by @corporatebanana about Dag/Tommy.

Dag/Tommy

Ficlet?Snippet? By @pluralityofaxes also about Dag/Tommy.

Polyphorid

A lovely Phorid gifset/edit by @tommykinard!

Meet Phorid

Another lovely gifset/edit by @tommykinard!

Side Fic

•

The first day back home, Dag sleeps hard and completely wrecks any chance he had of mitigating his jetlag. It’s only the second day on a technicality, when he wakes up disoriented with crust around his eyes at two in the morning. He takes a long hot shower and then lounges around naked on his bed and fiddles with his phone. Tommy’s back in the United States by now, probably. Dag thinks about messaging him. They talked mostly about tour stuff, would it be weird now if Dag just asked him how his day was going?

Fuck. Probably. He throws on some clothes.

There’s nothing in the fridge except for a jar of mustard, two beers, and half a jar of pickles. Dag’s honestly impressed with himself. He used to forget all sorts of shit and come back to a nasty fridge, but this time he actually managed to clear most of the food before he left. There is a can of soup in the pantry though, so at least he’s got more for breakfast than just pickles with mustard. He heats it up on the stove, pot on one burner, moka on the other, and looks out the window.

The sun hasn’t risen yet and his garden is still dark. He’ll start tackling that today after his gets groceries. There shouldn’t be too much upkeep, he planned the beds carefully so that he could be gone for a couple of months at a time. But the rose shrubs might need some pruning here or there, and there’s probably some weeds he needs to get rid of. At the very least he’s going to take a look, maybe spend a few hours puttering around outside, drink the beer that’s in the fridge. It’ll be a nice way to settle into a normal day, instead of being on the road.

Dag looks at his phone again and does the mental math. It’s evening in Los Angeles. He opens the whatsapp thread with Tommy and closes it again. Fuck. The moka pot begins to gurgle aggressively, so Dag puts his phone down and fusses over breakfast. He stares at the blank screen of his phone some more as he eats, and wonders why he’s so nervous about sending a text. He’s a grown man.

You: did you make it home safe?

He puts the phone down again, resists the urge to just stare at until there’s a response. There’s a voice at the back of his brain that keeps saying if there’s a response. If. Dag sighs. He thinks about the grocery store, tries to mentally plan out food for the week. His parents will want to grab lunch during the weekend, but Dag honestly doesn’t feel like going out there. All they’re going to do is talk about how their neighbors have grandchildren now and that Dag isn’t getting any younger.

Dag’s never wanted kids, never had much of an interest, and he’s told them that. But his mom seems to have an unending supply of young women that she knows, who are all pretty and single and apparently desperate to settle down and get knocked up. Dag hasn’t even thought about broaching the subject that he’s interested in men to them. He’s not sure that he wants to. They’ll be fine with it, most likely, but he doesn’t think they’ll be happy. He imagines telling them that the person he’s hung up on is a man from America. He frowns.

His phone buzzes.

Tommy: Yes, trying to stay awake so I don’t fuck my sleep schedule.