This is really fascinating to follow--glad ya'll are chatty today. Only downside is that you're making me want to write really dark fic that breaks its characters in new and interesting ways.
Jenn's story...um...crap, I've forgotten the title, because it scared me and I never finished it. "A Handful of Dust."
Yes. Ow. God.
I recently read a story in popslash that kept me flinching away from the screen, because it hurt, hurt, hurt the characters and didn't even try to fix them. And oh, it was good. I was interested in my own reaction, because I enjoyed every minute of skull-numbing pain and angst. Why do we like to hurt the characters so much? I mean, you've talked about this a little, but why does it work, as writers, to tear down characters? And even more so, when there's no set resolution? I often like those the best, the ones where there is no right answer, because I've been there.
This is really fascinating to follow--glad ya'll are chatty today. Only downside is that you're making me want to write really dark fic that breaks its characters in new and interesting ways.
If I write it for ya, do ya still have to?
t /taunting SA
t (for now)
I mean, it's a canon dystopia I'm working with, really...
Wait wait, so... you didn't finish 'Handful of Dust'? But... but that's the only way to get any closure at all! Not, you know, very healthy closure, but fuck healthy.
Actually, I just feel personally involved because I proofread it. At the first F2F, as it happens!
You proofread "A Handful of Dust" at the first F2F? I feel like I'm missing something there.
And I didn't actually finish it, no. I made people tell me the end, and then I ran away and read some happy smut or something.
I was a little worried that my favorite badfic author was losing her touch, since the only thing that amused me in her latest chapter was this:
“Hi, I’m Nikita Wirth… officer?” She asked, smiled and brought an instantaneous hard on to the stoic Monarch’s groin.
Damn he was too horny to do this whole thing without first finding relief; he should have taken the stewardess up on her offer. “Captain Michel Samuelle.” He added and she extended her hand to greet him.
Seymour who was having trouble controlling the dipping he was accustomed to offering Michael motioned with his hand and bowed his head for the man to follow him. Carla was serving the orange juice and coffee decided to set another place for breakfast. Walter and Jason stood from the table the moment Michael walked in and bowed in his presence, Michael smiled at the two and simply said hi, his accent and tone like honey to the women’s ears.
But then I checked the other story she's simultaneously writing:
She could have been totally nude and it would not have turned both men on as much as the glimpse of the silver string between two perfect cheeks, the fragile knot that held the sides of the bottom with strategically placed bows and the top that covered only the nipples.
---
Nikita went to move towards the man’s outstretched hand and Michael simply held her tighter, hurting her, rubbing himself against her hardly clad body and whispering, “No.” He slapped Nikita in the ass, immediately establishing dominance and started fondling her right there in front of the salivating Moroccan.
To say that Nikita was taken aback by Michael’s actions would be an understatement, Michael looked at her and sucked her lower lip into his mouth adding, “The other room, NOW, MOVE.” And then to the man, “Make yourself at home, we’ll be a couple of… err…a while.”
---
Michael threw Nikita on the bed, her body bouncing when it hit the mattress; she was so stimulated by this display of machismo superiority that she almost reached an orgasm with the simple moves.
Riiiiight. Because you know how us women are. So stimulated when men throw us around the room.
---
Michael held himself over Nikita, watching her expression of total ecstasy before the time they had spent apart could be reduced to memories and replaced by sexy sex and lust, nothing more. She mouthed as she watched him grab the different strings of her bikini with his mouth and open her like a most precious gift on a holiday morn, “Sarah my ass… you are mine.”
Not just sex...
sexy
sex.
I think it's a plot point or something. With a missing comma. And not the name for some new weird sex thing.
t weeping with laughter
"Sarah my ass"? Huh.
I thought it was a very jumbled way of saying that her ass was his. Possibly I'm confused from all the talk of ass-owning in Tim's thread lately.
Not just sex... sexy sex.
Isn't that a Homer Simpson quote?
