#with a bonus wippet

[jamiesfootball]

1, 20, 53 - any or all three for the ask game, whatever you feel like answering!

From this ask game if anyone else wants to do it.

1. Favorite place to write.

BED! It's so horrible for my back but it's my default-est of states. This was how it all started, tippity-tapping on my laptop at night all through high school. It just feels right.

Bonus shout out to my kitchen table with a cup of coffee. If I can ever manage to drink coffee in bed without spilling any, it's all over- the world will never see me again.

53. What does writing mean to you?

Writing is the super condensed form of all the things I love combined. I love to paint, so I shall paint a scene! I shall describe in loving detail all the smallest impressions and the expansive wideness of the beautiful everything. I love songs! Noise! My characters will rattle with loud noises, they will hear the faintest whisper of a sound in the other room, they will listen listen listen to the people around them when they talk. I love language and so I shall play with sentences, I will listen keenly to how people talk and try to carve it out in dialogue. I love cooking! So I shall feed my characters, I will give them love and gratitude in the form of delicious fucking meals. I am tactile- and so the world I write will have edges and textures and grit and dirt and damp and dry and heat. I love ideas, complicated little puzzles, surprising jokes, knowledge, and so my writing needs to have all that too.

Most of all I love sharing. To me, writing is sharing. It's sharing all the little details and and visions and noises and sensations and moments and jokes and twists. It is sharing the experience of living. I am always seeking to share with my writing. With who? The possibilities are endless! It could be people I know now, or it could be people I won't know for ten more years. It could be myself on a bad day. It could be the self I turn into, who will look back and go 'who has those thoughts? I could never think of this now.'

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

From the post-season fic:

Roy could see what the artist had been going for. In the picture, they've drawn an exaggerated figure from a low angle. The figure stood in a spotlight, with dramatic shadows drawing attention to the arm raised in a fist, the proud face that looked determinedly into a middle distance. From the jutted chin and blown-back bowl cut, it was clearly meant to be Jamie. Below the figure, four vaguely person shaped people had been shaded in. All of them struck a similar pose, but Jamie was the only one in focus. The tagline, in small block letters, read, 'A man above the rest.' Combined, the overall impression the image gave was severe and heroic. Two words that absolutely did not belong anywhere near Jamie Tartt, let alone his hair. Yet scanning the picture, one detail stood out that Roy couldn't make sense of-- "If they're taking the photo indoors, why do you have to go all the way to Brazil?" "Ugh," Jamie and Keeley said at the same time, two sets of eyes rolling at Roy for daring to have a lick of common sense.

[bookish-bogwitch]

Third Floor Thursday

Thank you for folks who tagged me yesterday. I'm behind on reading WIPpets but excited to catch up.

Instead of WIP Wednesday, I'm observing [Cloisters] Third Floor Thursday and serving up some Basil Pitch's Diary bonus content. Below the cut for mega spoilers for BPD chapter 9 and mild spice.

Sure, Baz did plenty of damage to himself and Simon in chapter 9, but what about the trail of male wreckage he left at the gay bar? What about all those non-Simons who failed to take Baz's mind of his troubles? You might be wondering...

Rejects of Skin Horse: Where Are They Now?

That night was only Lee’s second time out after top surgery. He loved how his new clothes fit him until Baz’s insult brought the old imposter syndrome rushing back. He almost left the club. But Lee’s night turned around when he met a cute guy who laughed at Lee’s jokes, asked Lee to give him stubble rash, and ate Lee out in the toilets. (It was Niall.) 

Mustached Blond with the Wedding Band Tan had just moved into his own flat after a ten-year marriage to his best friend. He’d been anguished over “breaking up his family over nothing”--thanks for that, Blond’s mum--but the kids were blossoming with happier parents. His ex had cheerled his coming out and savaged anyone who asked how Blond could be gay when he’d never been with a man. 

At Skin Horse Blond had assumed the tall, gorgeous man in the embroidered shirt was in his mid twenties--he was so poised--and more experienced than Blond, because everyone was. After Baz’s rejection, City Boy danced with Blond and slipped him the tongue. That first queer kiss did so little for Blond that he wondered if his mother was right and almost broke down right there. But then The Husbands took Blond home, found his prostate, and let him sleep in the middle.

City Boy was from the future, on a mission to terminate the boy who would one day lead the uprising against gay cyborgs like City Boy. He didn’t expect to find his target at Skin Horse, but everybody needs a night off.

As for Reg and Mike? Their story begins in If You Just Smile by @facewithoutheart (680, T). ____

Tagging only people I know have read this chapter ( <3 you btw):

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @monbons @whogaveyoupermission

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @goblindad-emoshit @rimeswithpurple @emeryhall @comesitintheclover

@mooncello

[sighonaraa]

tell me about listen: there's a hell of a universe next door; let's go (side note/bonus question if you feel like answering: i love your titles — how do you come up with them?)

OUUUGH YES I LOVE THIS ONE!!!!

listen: there's a hell of a universe next door; let's go

this is one of my halfway-finished gift fics that i've been working on and the incredibly short version of the plot is: Sam. Jamie. Mid-Season 2. Start A Book Club Together, Just The Two Of Them. and thus begins one of my most favorite friendship that this show gave us! here's a wee wippet:

Sam unwraps his sandwich from its cling wrap. Peanut butter and jelly, he’d been in a rush this morning and hadn’t had the time to make anything more exciting. But it at least seems more interesting than Jamie’s lunch, a salad which appears to consist of a limp collection of greens topped with a few bits of cheese and no dressing in sight. “I never thanked you,” he says, after taking a bite. “But I should have, so. Thank you, Jamie.” “Sure,” says Jamie. Then, “What for?” “For…helping me,” says Sam. “For the band-aid. And, well. For being kind.” “Oh,” says Jamie. “I didn’t, like. It weren’t a big deal or nothin’.” Sam disagrees. He thinks it was a very big deal, considering that in the past most of his and Jamie’s interactions have ended in bruised egos and sharp words and him heading home with a heavy, sinking sensation in his chest. But he doesn’t tell Jamie this. Instead, he lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug and pulls the crust from his sandwich bread. “Well, either way,” he says. “Thank you.”

titles

WEEPS?? i agonize all thee time over titling my fics so hearing that you like them means so much genuinely :')

i typically crib lines from songs or poems that i feel strike a particular emotional chord that fits with whatever the fic i'm attempting to title is about. i'm pretty sure every title on my wip list is from a song or poem except for one, which is a line this yoga instructor on youtube i like said once that stuck with me for whatever reason sdkjfk.

listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go is a line from a poem by e.e. cummings called 'pity this busy monster, manunkind' and since this fic is about sam and jamie forming a book club together and exploring different worlds and working through Big Emotions and trauma via those worlds, i thought it was appropriate! i just took out the 'good' bc i felt it flowed a bit better for a title that way. also it just sounds. so cool. that line has Haunted me for many moons.

ask me about my wips!