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Now I have 'Are You Jimmy Ray?' stuck in my head. Great.
Thanks for all the birthday wishes, dudes! ♥ Despite my choice of .gif, I didn't actually 'go fucking mental' last night. (I kind of gave up binge drinking after one particularly heinous hangover I got in Canada. Ughhh, the memory alone makes me want to DIE. I hadn't even meant to get drunk that time, but the lure of a 90s night that played classic songs such as 'Your Woman' and, um, 'Are You Jimmy Ray?' proved TOO STRONG. Needless to say, I didn't make it to my 8:30 class the next day.)
In other news, it's ~come to my attention~ that I've never actually pointed out that the 80s AU I keep blathering on about is Katie/Effy, so consider this the official announcement. I feel like I'm... not exactly nearing the end, but I've passed the difficult middle bit and now all the big stuff's starting to happen. (It's at ~19k so far, btw, if anyone cares.)
Anyway, because apparently some people areexcited curious, I thought I'd post a ~teaser. It's not much, just the first 545 words, but, uh. Enjoy?
---
It's raining again, just like it has been every day this past week. Even over the football on the telly and the relative crowd of people in the pub, Katie can hear the raindrops pattering an incessant rhythm on the window behind her.
Danny is late.
It's not like he has anywhere better to be, she thinks, scowling at the vodka and coke she had to pay for herself, and when she looks around the room she actually laughs, because really. This is what passes for nightlife in this shithole. Just about the entire population of the village is in there and it's still not even half-full, because that's what this place is like in the winter: a fucking ghost town.
Katie glances at the door, willing Danny to walk through it any second now. The match is nearly at half-time and that means the disgusting old men at the bar--the ones that used to leer at her and Emily, and it was obvious they were thinking about threesomes--will soon pry their eyes away from the telly and find something else to stare at, and Katie knows that she's the only thing worth looking at in this place. The door opens and she smiles, relieved to finally get some company, but it's not Danny that walks through the door, it's someone else.
Someone she hasn't seen before.
The girl looks immediately out of place; she has the sort of beauty that deserves a better backdrop than this godforsaken pub in the middle of nowhere. It's how Katie's always thought of herself, but once she sees the concept in action it's clear she doesn't measure up. She turns her head away, deliberately, making a show of not paying attention even though her focus is still tightly fixed on the girl.
Katie's not the only one. The football still has three minutes left of extra time but the men at the bar have abandoned it anyway, turning and staring at the girl in a way that makes Katie's stomach churn. She's not that fucking special, Katie decides, just a novelty. If she'd lived here as long as Katie has, nobody would pay attention. Christ, if she'd come here in the summer when the place is crawling with tourists, she wouldn't stand out. By the time the second half of the match starts the men will be back to the footie and the women will have found something else to gossip about.
One of the men--who's married, the fucking perv--pays for the girl's drink. (Something clear. Vodka, probably, or maybe gin.) He tries to engage her in conversation but the girl doesn't seem to hear a word he says; she just leans against the bar, drinking, and it takes Katie a moment to realise that the girl is looking right at her. Katie hadn't realised that she was staring. She looks back down at her drink instead and the next time she hazards a glance upwards she discovers the girl standing over her.
"Finish your drink," the girl says, placing her own empty glass down on Katie's table. "Let's get out of here."
"Do I know you?" Katie asks.
"Effy Stonem." The girl looks slightly sinister when she smiles. "Now you do. Let's go."
In other news, it's ~come to my attention~ that I've never actually pointed out that the 80s AU I keep blathering on about is Katie/Effy, so consider this the official announcement. I feel like I'm... not exactly nearing the end, but I've passed the difficult middle bit and now all the big stuff's starting to happen. (It's at ~19k so far, btw, if anyone cares.)
Anyway, because apparently some people are
---
It's raining again, just like it has been every day this past week. Even over the football on the telly and the relative crowd of people in the pub, Katie can hear the raindrops pattering an incessant rhythm on the window behind her.
Danny is late.
It's not like he has anywhere better to be, she thinks, scowling at the vodka and coke she had to pay for herself, and when she looks around the room she actually laughs, because really. This is what passes for nightlife in this shithole. Just about the entire population of the village is in there and it's still not even half-full, because that's what this place is like in the winter: a fucking ghost town.
Katie glances at the door, willing Danny to walk through it any second now. The match is nearly at half-time and that means the disgusting old men at the bar--the ones that used to leer at her and Emily, and it was obvious they were thinking about threesomes--will soon pry their eyes away from the telly and find something else to stare at, and Katie knows that she's the only thing worth looking at in this place. The door opens and she smiles, relieved to finally get some company, but it's not Danny that walks through the door, it's someone else.
Someone she hasn't seen before.
The girl looks immediately out of place; she has the sort of beauty that deserves a better backdrop than this godforsaken pub in the middle of nowhere. It's how Katie's always thought of herself, but once she sees the concept in action it's clear she doesn't measure up. She turns her head away, deliberately, making a show of not paying attention even though her focus is still tightly fixed on the girl.
Katie's not the only one. The football still has three minutes left of extra time but the men at the bar have abandoned it anyway, turning and staring at the girl in a way that makes Katie's stomach churn. She's not that fucking special, Katie decides, just a novelty. If she'd lived here as long as Katie has, nobody would pay attention. Christ, if she'd come here in the summer when the place is crawling with tourists, she wouldn't stand out. By the time the second half of the match starts the men will be back to the footie and the women will have found something else to gossip about.
One of the men--who's married, the fucking perv--pays for the girl's drink. (Something clear. Vodka, probably, or maybe gin.) He tries to engage her in conversation but the girl doesn't seem to hear a word he says; she just leans against the bar, drinking, and it takes Katie a moment to realise that the girl is looking right at her. Katie hadn't realised that she was staring. She looks back down at her drink instead and the next time she hazards a glance upwards she discovers the girl standing over her.
"Finish your drink," the girl says, placing her own empty glass down on Katie's table. "Let's get out of here."
"Do I know you?" Katie asks.
"Effy Stonem." The girl looks slightly sinister when she smiles. "Now you do. Let's go."
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It ... I don't know how to differentiate between like, myself and everyone else in fandom and then you, but everything of yours I've read has somehow not read one iota like fanfiction, because it's just better, and in a class of its own. It's got the qualities of real, original, publishable fiction, and I think it's because you manage to write in a style that doesn't presuppose much of anything about the characters, thus avoiding all the shortcuts that everyone else in fandom takes.
Basically, one day (should it still be necessary then), when I have made my residence here legal (lol forever, I hate the Home Office so hard) and have made lots and lots of money doing incredibly dull things, I will sponsor/adopt you to write classy things that are only marginally about lesbians for a living, as it's clearly your destiny.
♥
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I'm so bad at replying to feedback because mostly my response to comments like yours is "PUBLISHABLE LOL WHAT" but seriously, thanks, dude. You've been super encouraging and it means a lot. ♥
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Squeeing for Katie/Effy and your writing :)
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Ahhhhh, your 80's fic? Mmmm, the 80's a rather heinous decade for fashion (shoulder pads *shudders*) so I'm rather terrified to think what Katie would be wearing. The snippets was great, though. Effy is fierce whatever decade she's in, right.
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And yes, Effy = always fierce. And now I'm imagining her in all sorts of different eras. I don't need more fic ideas!
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