sailoutsummerfest

[sailoutsummerfest]

WIP: To Lie in an Ecstacy of Peace

Here's a little snippet from my WIP, a Joplittle fic for @sailoutsummerfest.

[sailoutsummerfest]

WIP: A Ship Made of Empire

Just some lines from my WIP, a poem about HMS Terror, for @sailoutsummerfest

Context? What context?

I am a ship made of empire, My timbers from Old World and New.

…

I’ve tasted Australian waters. My name���s on maps of both poles.

…

Left only that tired flag of empire, Futile claim to a solid sea.

…

The north holds more perils, Than a ship can count on deckhands.

[sailoutsummerfest]

We've made it to the end of our journey, sailors! Our last prompt comes to you from James Reid, ice master of HMS Erebus, in a letter to his wife written the day the ships first left Greenhithe ⚓️

See you on our final posting day next Tuesday, July 22!

Event Info and FAQ || Zine Submissions || Prompt Overview

[sailoutsummerfest]

another @sailoutsummerfest snippet for WIP wednesday!!

[sailoutsummerfest]

I don't always write poetry, but when I do, it's about doomed British explorers.

Work in progress for @sailoutsummerfest

I am a ship made of empire, My timbers from Old World and New. An Irish outsider my captain, The English downtrodden my crew

The prompt for this one is definitely "Discovery/Home".

[sailoutsummerfest]

Another Wednesday, another WIP roundup! If you've got a WIP to share, tag us with #SailOutSummer25 and we'll share your work to our socials ⚓️

As a reminder, our zine submissions are still open for any work posted during the first half of the event!

Attention sailors: we're sending letters back home to England! If you've got a WIP to share with us, post it and tag us @sailoutsummerfest or #SailOutSummer25 ⚓️ We'll be boosting your WIPs every Wednesday of the event!

[sailoutsummerfest]

Second to last week, sailors! England's shores are almost in sight ⚓️ This week's quote is from Henry T.D. Le Vesconte in a letter to his mother Sarah, sent just before his departure on the expedition.

Happy sailing, and we'll catch you in the #SailOutSummer25 WIP tag!

[sailoutsummerfest]

Work in progress- follow up to this nonsense:

Close. Edward Little is close to death, freezing, starving, a hollowed out corpse which is somehow still breathing and blinking, but not much else. All around him is death. His fallen men. His fallen friends. The things that they did.

Why is he still here? Why, despite everything, does his consciousness cling on, refusing to cease? He might have been sitting here for weeks at this point, not moving, not speaking, slowly, slowly wasting away.

He’s close, though. Smoothly slipping towards death, not fighting it.

In the crystalline quiet, he thinks of George and of John. George, who was almost swept away with the mutineers, but who thankfully realised what scum they are the day John Irving, left for dead by Hickey, appeared in camp, covered in dried blood and saved only (he said) by God’s grace. They’d all been separated, and Edward isn’t sure where they are. He can’t remember them leaving, but he knows they wouldn’t have left him by choice.

He hopes, wherever they are, they’re together.

Death is not frightening if he knows that John and George have each other.

[sailoutsummerfest]

Happy WIP wednesday, sailors! You know the drill— if you've got a WIP to share, tag us with #SailOutSummer25 ⚓️ And don't forget, our zine submissions are still open until two weeks after our Journey Home posting day!

Attention sailors: we're sending letters back home to England! If you've got a WIP to share with us, post it and tag us @sailoutsummerfest or #SailOutSummer25 ⚓️ We'll be boosting your WIPs every Wednesday of the event!

[sailoutsummerfest]

Nearly there, sailors! For this week's prompt, we've got just a couple words from our esteemed Commander James Fitzjames, in an 1845 letter to his best friend John Barrow Jr.

As ever, we look forward to seeing your WIPs in the #SailOutSummer25 tag, and happy sailing! ⚓️

[sailoutsummerfest]

Closeted local choir boy makes an impression on closeted, jaded local liar. They're going to get along splendidly.

@sailoutsummerfest

[sailoutsummerfest]

Several years after the expedition, John Irving gets stabbed. Again. Honestly it goes a lot better than the first time, but his friends still all freak out. Can’t imagine why.

sometimes you’re too disabled to work on your flash fic, so you start making a faux movie poster for it until you have the mental capacity to write again. anyway, I finally finished my @sailoutsummerfest fic!!

[sailoutsummerfest]

It's our first WIP Wednesday of the journey home! If you've got a WIP, share it with us in the #SailOutSummer25 tag and we'll repost it to our socials ⚓️

And, don't forget our zine submissions are still open for art and fics posted during the sail-out!

Attention sailors: we're sending letters back home to England! If you've got a WIP to share with us, post it and tag us @sailoutsummerfest or #SailOutSummer25 ⚓️ We'll be boosting your WIPs every Wednesday of the event!

[sailoutsummerfest]

Sailing into Week 5 of the flash fest! This week's prompt comes to you from our esteemed Captain Francis Crozier, in a July 1845 letter to Sir James Clark Ross ⚓️

Happy sailing, and enjoy the journey home!

Event Info and FAQ || Zine Submissions || Prompt Overview

[sailoutsummerfest]

You've given us all a great sail-out, but it's time to journey home, sailors! For the return trip, we've got four more sets of prompts for you⚓️ Our journey home posting day is July 22, and as ever, we look forward to seeing your WIPs in the #sailoutsummer25 tag!

Happy sailing!

Event Info and FAQ || Zine Submissions

[sailoutsummerfest]

⚓️ take me in your arms | goodgore | E, 3.4K

Harry could have rented a room in an inn and been up with the cock crow, could have enjoyed the comforts of a proper bed and a hearth fire— but no. No, Harry was stubborn, and foolish, and he’d placed himself into this accursed mess of his own damn free will. Behind him, the first lieutenant shuffles, mumbling out an unintelligible string of sleep-laced words, and presses closer. Specifically, presses his hips closer. More specifically, presses his cockstand, stiff with blood and radiating heat even through the thin layer of his nightshirt and drawers, right up against the cleft of Harry’s ass. Harry closes his eyes, counts to thirty, and tries not to bite clean through his tongue with frustration.

Harry Goodsir shares a berth with his first lieutenant the night before the expedition sets sail. Surely nothing could go wrong!

For @sailoutsummerfest week 3, "The cabin is leaking most tremendously thro the bulls-eye."

[sailoutsummerfest]

Happy Summer and Summer Sail Out!

Here's my fic for @sailoutsummerfest! It has been FOREVER since I've done any serious fan fiction, but I'm very happy with how this came out. Hopefully you all enjoy reading!

Find it here on AO3.