#sorriez for the length of the post

[grapehyasynth]

First Line Challenge

I was tagged by @missgeevious and @my-nameless-bliss - thank you!! This looks like a lot of fun - normally these games require that I remember something about my works or think deeply about them and this does neither of those so I love it. I also kind of love first lines/first paragraphs because I have held dear to me the concept from a creative writing class that in a short story, you don’t have time for exposition and need to drop the reader write into the juicy action. I try to follow that as much as I can!

Post the first line of the last 20 things you’ve written. Then tag 20 people to do the same.

I am skipping my drabbles because I don’t know, chronologically, when those were actually posted.

I am also not going to tag 20 people but I will tag: @maybewecandreamalittle @roguebebe @hullomoon @flashbastard @theswiftiewholived @maxbegone @lisamc-21 @januarium @startswithhope  @davidbrewer @lilythesilly @blueink3​ @middyblue​ @danverses​ @schittposting @kindofspecificstore

1. It starts, as these things seem wont to do, with Ray.  (Smorgascreek)

2. “Mr. Rose, I was supposed to be at the cafe twenty minutes ago to help David with the-” (Gossip is the devil’s telephone)

3. It’s a lush summer night, hot and swollen, and Patrick knows his husband would rather be inside, upstairs in their borrowed bedroom where his parents have kindly installed the AC window unit. (people worth missing, things worth sharing)

4. It’s been a long day at the store, their busiest since the soft opening, and Patrick’s thrilled.  (Sounds of Pleasure)

5. David would never willingly enter a laundromat.  (Making Change)

6. The Roses have a small, rented house in Los Feliz, and no matter how many times Moira has assured Patrick that “we’re very close to signing the concordat on a more permanent dwelling - any day now!”, he still has a hard time fitting his larger-than-life costar here, in this humble, quiet corner of Los Angeles. (Son-rise Bay)

7. Patrick has made a terrible mistake. (Breakout Sessions)

8. Patrick has his first little gay spiral on the walk home from work, when he sees the entire Jazzagals troupe flocking to the cafe. (come as you are)

9. So when you said you hated pet names,” Patrick says the minute they get up to their borrowed bedroom, and David freezes where he’s crouched by his suitcase, “you only meant from me, huh?” (Negotiation of Terms)

10. David regrets everything. (beneath the arc of the earth’s halo)

11. Patrick comes into the living room for movie night, where David’s been watching Friends while Patrick finishes up some paperwork, and sighs. (Seating Arrangements)

12. do you have plans tonight (your eyes are wider than distance)

13. “This is not how I wanted to spend my night,” Alexis grumps, as if he didn’t know. (laughing and hydrating and listening to frank ocean)

14. David is speedwalking down the length of the motel within seconds of getting Stevie’s text. (Picking up this heat)

15. “So I have an idea for our second date,” David says, after the dust - of the body at the motel, of Mrs. Rose’s hysteria, and of Patrick stumbling over not being ready for the sex he very, very much wants to have with David - has settled. (I like you down to the sugar on your fingertips)

16. Stevie walks into the cafe in her puffy winter coat, takes one look at Patrick sitting alone in a booth with a wrapped present on the table in front of him, and spins back around, heading for the door.  (Brewer Birthday (Non)Bombardments for Budd)

17. They’re in Patrick’s bed - well, more on the bed than in bed, because David’s foot is the only part of him that’s covered by the sheet. (Butt Stuff)

18. All semester, every time Patrick gets drunk, he’s drinking because of David. (like rum on the fire)

19. David takes one look at Patrick when he ambles into their kitchen after shucking his shoes and coat and bag in the hall and says, “Well, don’t you look like you’ve just been through an emotional trash compactor.” (To my younger self)

20. David goes looking for towels, mostly to have five minutes away from Alexis for the first time since all of this started, but also because he cannot be expected to dry his  body  with the sandpaper currently hanging in their bathroom, a room smaller than his claw-footed tub in New York.   (If you’re looking for an ass to kiss)

If you made it this far, I’ll share with you that looking at some of these again, I was like - wow, I miss that one. A kind of special feeling when writing fic can so often feel like banging your head through concrete. Sorry for that visual. Also, I will always ragret naming a fic Butt Stuff. But (ha) here we are.