30 – Do you have a favorite fic you’ve written? What makes it your favorite? And don’t forget to give us a link.
Having favorites is kind of difficult for me. I love most of my fics for different reasons, and find it difficult to pick just one. And like, favorite? I think of favorites as things I keep coming back to and rereading, and I reread my own stuff kind of randomly.
So I'm going to go with one of my more obscure stories that doesn't get found very often. I occasionally joke that I am the premiere Blow-Up (1966) slash writer on the internet, by which I mean, I've never found anyone else writing it, and I've written three stories, the third of which I finally think I figured out what I wanted to say about it. Wet-in-wet (explicit) is a porn story that is mostly about art, paint, and ephemera. I'm really proud of it and I'm occasionally shocked when I go back and find out how much I managed to get in less than 600 words.
( That's it! All the old links under cut. )
Wrapping up the post-conference work, and ramping up the applications again.
I have a cleaning goal: I would like the apartment to be presentable-to-Certain-Parties by the 13th. I think it's progressing in that direction, but you could not entirely prove it by one day's moved furniture. (I suspect that with a few modifications the current state would work, but I'd also like, you know, a few more places to sit. Although the idea of someone sprawling in characteristic fashion on my bed has its charms.)
This morning involved the dentist, and an obnoxiously deep filling (and a very annoyed nerve). I wound up taking a substantial afternoon nap because my brain could Just Not Even. (This also happens after eye appointments involving dilation, I find.)
It can be a new achievement or adventure, or just that you climbed and had fun; it can be that your favourite climbing wall is expanding or that you bought new rock shoes or that you found a cool ice-climbing vid on YouTube. No glee is too small -- or too big. Members are encouraged to cheer each other on and share the squee.
N.B. Please feel free to post your glee on any day of the week; the Friday glee is just to get the ball rolling.
To enhance this week's glee: Ines Papert and Mayan Smith-Gobat on Riders In The Storm in the Torres del Paine (link goes to ep 1 of 4).
Sure I hope the politickal matters among the gentlemen go on better than matters do among the ladies of the party. Indeed there has grown a pleasing accord 'twixt Mrs B-, Eliza, Susannah, and Viola, and Lady T-'s ice is mayhap a little melt’d, tho’ not very much. Mrs K- continues to play patience as if she uses the cards to tell our very malign fortunes. Lady Z- either yawns over fashion plates, or walks up and down in the manner of a cag’d animal.
I am growing tir’d of watching her pace up and down the drawing-room. Lady Z-, says I, I have a fancy to go promenade myself in the hot-houses, that are given out extreme fine: do you care to accompany me?
Eliza and Susannah, that rightly suppose that I have some contrivance upon hand, give discouraging looks towards Viola and Mrs B-, that look inclin’d for this excursion, and I achieve my aim of cutting her out from the herd.
I observe that Roberts is in the gardens, with Julius at his heels, explaining some matter to Lord T- and Mr B-. I lead Lady Z- into the first of the hot-houses. There is an entire delicious medley of scents and I pause and sniff. Is this not pleasant? says I.
She gives a somewhat reluctant nod.
Ah, Lady Z-, says I, I could almost bring myself to envy you –
- why, have you not gain’d the admiration and devotion of an extreme fine young man?
Lady Z- looks at me as if she wonders should she go call for a straitjacket.
Such an exceeding handsome creature – and doubtless all the fiery passion of the south –
Lady B-, what do you mean?
It cannot be that you do not know? Has he really not declar’d himself? O, I am most surpriz’d that he hangs back, for he expresses himself most overcome by your charms.
Lady B-, who can it be that you speak of?
You must surely have notic’d Reynaldo di S-, that fine young Neapolitan nobleman that is the nephew of the Contessa di S-, has been about in Society now these several months –
O, she says, yes, I mind on him, a very fine figure of a fellow.
'Tis given out near dyes for you.
She looks at me with a little frown. Sure, I have seen him about in Society, has very polisht manners, but – dyes for me, you say?
And I daresay writes poems to you in Italian, which is sure a fine tongue for matters of love. Why, when I was at Naples, settling some business to do with my late husband the Marquess’s affairs in those parts – but, indeed, I grow indiscreet.
I see the frown turn into a slight smile. Say you so!
I smile at her. (I am appriz’d through the cabal of lady’s maids that her husband has not visit’d her bedchamber since before the birth of their second son. Doubtless there are ladies who would be extreme glad of this, but I confide that she is not one of them.) 'Tis even known to the Contessa herself (or 'twill be, once I return to Town), that thinks it would a most excellent thing for the young man to contract a liaison with a woman of fashion that knows the ways of the world.
Did I not hear, asks Lady Z-, that he was oblig’d to leave Naples very precipitate on account of his revolutionary activities?
Indeed, says I, for I apprehend that she thinks this most exceeding romantick.
She sighs. O, Lady B-, I am extreme gratefull that you have disclos’d this matter to me, for I fear that I may have shown myself disdainfull to the young man, that I never intend’d.
O, says I, as I hear the door open, what exceeding fine lilies these are.
Sure their scent is quite intoxicating! she replies.
Lord T- and Mr B- enter the hot-house along with Roberts and Julius.
We make civil conversation about flowers &C. Lord T- inhales deeply and says sure this is a finer way of spending the afternoon than playing billiards. Mr B- concurs.
I hope, says Lady Z-, that 'tis entirely a friendly game they play and that they do not lay wagers. Not that one minds a little gaming from time to time, but the K-s are said to play very high.
So I hear, says I. Sure a little play for sociability is entire agreeable, but I cannot like high play. Can cause exceeding bad feeling in the company.
Quite so, she says, not that Sir H- is particular given to that vice.
That must indeed be a relief. Comes, says I, I am beginning to find it a little too hot in here, shall we walk a little in the gardens?
Let us indeed, she says.
As we come to a pretty fountain, she says, indeed my husband is not given to any of the usual vices - does not drink more than is good for him, is not violent towards me, is not miserly, is not given to womanizing - sure there is nothing of which I could complain – and yet – but no, indeed I should not complain. And yet – sure there is entire civility but no affection, such as I see Sir B- W- manifest towards his lady.
Indeed Sir B- W- is given out most extreme fond of Lady W-, quite doats upon her.
She sighs. And one observes how attentive His Grace is to Her Grace, that I do not suppose is simply because she is the vessel for his child.
(I take an apprehension that she has no notion that her husband is of the disposition: sure I am like to think that does a fellow desire to marry to draw a veil over the eyes of society, he should inform his wife of what’s ado. Yet I daresay this might be a perilous course. Indeed the dear Marquess marry’d me because I knew what was what from my long association with Milord: 'tis not knowledge that one might expect in a gently-bred young woman that is upon the marriage market.)
Sure, says I, from what one hears of husbands, 'tis something to have civility.
And he does not make scenes over bills for dress &C.
’Tis quite entire a situation, says I, in which a little admiration from a pleasing young fellow is most soothing to the spirit.
O yes, she says, very fervent.
Let us go in, says I, the wind is striking a little chill.
We return to the drawing-room. Viola is playing the piano. Lady T- is at her lace-making. Eliza and Mrs B- are at some ladylike stitching. Susannah is reading a newspaper through her lorgnette. Mrs K- is no longer in the room.
Comes in Mr W- Y- that says he has been about writing a poem and pauses most hopefull.
Susannah looks up and she says that she hears that poems are somewhat like wine, that should not be drunk too fresh but allow’d time to mature. (Indeed this is somewhat similar to Deacon Brodie’s critickal strictures.)
Lady Z- yawns and then offers to challenge any that cares to at spillikins. Mr W- Y- offers himself.
I say I will go fetch my own embroidery.
However, instead of going to my own chamber, I go to the cabinet of curiosities. Sandy is already there.
O, says I, I hope your day has been more entertaining than mine.
He sighs and says matters move on. He has no opinion at all of Mr D- K- (and, says I, his wife is an entire b---h); he confides that Sir H- Z- is indeed of the disposition, but at least he is exceeding sound upon questions of reform. Lord T- and Mr B- however most definitely have the matter in them.
Do you wish to make pleasant to Lady T-, you might find out whether there is any matter in the family papers concerning this lace.
Say you so? sure anything that would incline her towards us would be a boon. I will go consider upon it.
There’s my good bello scozzese! and I confide that I have distract’d Lady Z- from the contemplation of your Titian hair and fine form.
That would indeed be a relief, for she kept standing exceeding close to me yestere’en.
And what of the old sheep?
His Grace took him out with dogs and guns, tho’ I have no notion of what game they would be like to find at this season.
The poet, says I, has been about writing a poem, all day in the library. We are in great hopes that he will not read it.
That is quite devoutly to be wisht! Dearest C-, might we prevail upon you to delight us with the Bard?
Why, is the alternative listening to Mr Y-'s efforts, I think I shall gladly concede to do so. And now, my dear, I must be about taking my embroidery to the drawing-room. If I linger too long I am sure there will be suspicions that I am about having an assignation.
2. Today was Alexander's birthday so we went out to lunch and karaoke. For lunch we went to ROC Sawtelle and it was so good, especially their "three cup chicken" and pickled cucumbers. We got there in between lunch and dinner so it wasn't crowded at all.
3. I didn't do much translating today, but I finally finished a big project I've been working on for a while, another collection of one-shots by Nishioka Kyodai. The scans haven't even been cleaned yet, much less any progress on typesetting, so I have no idea when we'll be releasing it, but I feel good about getting my part of it done.
4. We bought a few things while at Costco today and they gave us a box that is open on three sides and when turned upside-down makes an excellent fort for kitties. We call it the Fortress of Catitude.
Title: i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it
Reader: kerravon - crossposted at AO3
Fandoms: Good Omens
Length: 8 Minutes 22 Seconds
Author: "Originally written on tumblr [9/7/11]; the title, a line from Richard Siken's "Snow And Dirty Rain," served as the prompt."
MP3 (7.70MB): i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it - mp3
M4b Audiobook (1.02MB): i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it - M4b
Text available at: i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it
POINTS: (5+5) x 1 = 10