Down to get down tonight
Title Your Parachute Looks Kinda Like a Kite From Here
By weekend_exile
Fandom Supernatural RPS
Pairing Jared/Jensen
Rating PG
Summary In which Jared's a bigshot artist (or not) who spends most of his time doodling and being ridiculously in love with his roommate, and said roommate tries to put up with his doodling sasquatch ass. AU.
Notes I refuse to accept ( Read more... )
By weekend_exile
Fandom Supernatural RPS
Pairing Jared/Jensen
Rating PG
Summary In which Jared's a bigshot artist (or not) who spends most of his time doodling and being ridiculously in love with his roommate, and said roommate tries to put up with his doodling sasquatch ass. AU.
Notes I refuse to accept ( Read more... )
I urgently require some fanart for this! Anyone? Please? I might even consider selling a kidney.)
"Unicorns and ponies, maybe a howler monkey or two," Jensen deadpans.
Do I even need to go there? ))) I was smiling so huge, I’m afraid I now have permanent wrinkles on my face.))))
"That always seems to work out for you. Which reminds me, do we have anything close to milk in our apartment?"
I had two seconds to recover and then I read this one and I was done. I mean, I was maybe kinda going under the table laughing my head off. Which is stupid because I was on my lunch break and people looking funny at me, I think I just might have ruined my reputation in the office.
“They have to count backwards from three again, because neither still had mastered the art of one hanging up on the other.”
I do that sometimes. Good to know I’m not the only one out there.)))
"We have bacterial life forms, no milk."
I’ll print it and put it on the fridge.)
“Jared knows -somewhere in the back of his mind, tucked away where he doesn't stumble and trip over it- that Jensen still sleeps around.”
I think I need some counseling on being addicted to perfect lines and quotes overdose.
“He feels the anger at the very edge of his fingertips, running up and down his veins like quicksilver. The air tastes gritty and bitter like it’s got miniscule pieces of sandpaper mixed in; there’s really nothing Jared wouldn’t do to stop feeling like this.”
I was reminded of something you’ve written earlier: “The smallest of whispers travels across the ocean, averts the shrapnel and lands one day in the middle of green fields where he goes sometimes. He watches it settle and take shape like a flower blooming, shooting neon beams of light that bend and take forms of their own.”
The same kind of poetry that makes you wonder just how one can catch a rainbow in a sentence. I think that’s what makes you so unique among many others out there. One can write a good story, with strong plot and good emotional background, but then there will be no poetry, no subtle beauty of things that have no names and just shimmer in the air around you. It’s like a sucker punch, a minute ago I was laughing and then I had to stop reading, because somehow this is so beautiful you need, no, must stop, go back, re-read it. Then again and again, until it settles within you.
“His grin’s hurting his face, but it makes Jensen get this look in his eyes like he’s not seriously thinking of running like hell.”
Somehow I’ve always thought this is exactly how Jensen looks when talking about his feelings. Like he is one heartbeat away from bolting the hell out of here.))
I think the idea of staying away from the fic is a good one. I really need some alone time with this text, and then there are a lot of others… so, yeah, time for you to take studying by the balls and get your act together. Because I’m not sure I can take more of this right now without getting into ER.)
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seriously, though. you're the first person who liked the meandering metaphors and the kinda vague descriptions I dish out. I'd been starting to see it as a curse, everything from the weird structure of my sentences to the not-always-obvious plots I come up with. I really do mean it when I say you mean quite a bit to me.
The counting backwards thing: I saw my best friend do it with her boyfriend, and rolled my eyes so hard I thought of that lube-in-eyeballs metaphor, and promptly was grossed out in the middle of the street.
You quoted Drifts!!!!! Drifts is like my firstborn, I love that thing to pieces. All in all, your comments were all the sprinkilings and sugar and ice cream and other unhealthy delicious stuff I could probably have asked for. Cheers, mate.
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Please don't change your style. It reminds me of Ani DiFranco a lot, same strange but very compelling pattern made from seemingly unrelated words and images. With it's own kind of beauty. Ones you get to know it you can't take it out of your head.)
Sure I did. That's the reason I'm here.) I fall in love with the text from the first line and after that I just couldn't stop if I wanted to. I wish I have the talent enough to translate it. But I've made like all my friends go read it, because it's awesome. I was running around telling everyone and there mother that I've finally found my perfect author.) I even commented back then, just not with 4 pages of love-your-work-never-stop-writing.)))
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