#bagatha

Yeah! Thanks for the ask 🥰😘 These are a little dud-y so it’s probably best to explain them together.

Bagatha is a crack fic/character study where I try to figure out what Baz would look like if he thought he was straight. It’s inspired by this comedy set where a newly out lesbian describes how her guy friend taught her to… you know. 🍽️🐱. And he says something like “what you gotta do is find a song that lasts X minutes, go down there, think about nothing and just do the job.” And the comedian is like… dude, are you sure you like women? But I came up with this idea in my post-surgery funk where I struggled to write anything (she says, like that isn’t still true) and haven’t picked it back up. Maybe I’ll get this one done in time for April Fools but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Dance Fic was an attempt to combine two things: a Watford era fic with an organized dance and a Marta-fest fic where Baz and Simon are getting conflicting advice from their horoscopes. Another post-surgery fic idea that failed to get off the ground. I think I ended up looking up costar horoscopes and got distracted lol. Reading my one paragraph start, my favorite thing is the HC that Niall is totally the type of friend who sends you podcasts you’ll never listen to.

The camera whirrs before producing a physical copy of the photograph. I saw her eyes light up before she reached to take it, so I expected something of great beauty. It was just a heap of garbage.

“Seriously? You wasted a picture on that?”

“That’s a bad word to use, ‘waste’. But yeah, why not?”

I glance skeptically at the photo. The giant pile of trash fills the entire frame. It’s a photo of nothing but trash. Some of the bags are ripped, causing soda cans and action figures and various other curious objects to pour out. I see no value in this photo. To most people, this photo wouldn’t strike their heart. We see this type of trash everyday.

Before I can ponder my dissatisfaction, her eyes light up once again. This time, it’s just the corner of a building. The light is hitting in the perfect way to give an almost abstract shape to the building. Nothing special though. It’s a photo that has been taken 1 million times over.

click

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“That wasn’t worth the film! You know you don’t have unlimited photos right?”

“I liked the way it looked. What else matters?”

“That photo isn’t special.”

“Special? Like unique? I suppose. In this moment though, I’m the only person who took that photo with that specific lighting. It’s meaningless to most people, yeah, but it’s meaningful for me. Hell, if I’m lucky, someone else might find meaning in it.”

“Isn’t it such a boring subject though? Aren’t you an artist? Wouldn’t you rather find something better? Something more… engaging? Interesting?”

“Mm. Mmmmmmmmm.” She shakes her head a bit. “I get what you mean. The artist side of me certainly knows this photo isn’t too special. It looks good, but thats about it. It wasn’t a hard photo to get right either. Truly a bland picture.”

“You see what I mean?”

“Yeah. But you forgot something important. Im a photographer first, artist second. I don’t photograph cause I wanna make art, I do it cause I like the sound my camera makes. The art I make is really more of a byproduct.”

“Ehhh… So you’re fine with taking such a mediocre photo?”

“Yeah. I’ll probably forget about it in a month. Maybe I’ll hang it up on my wall. I’ll look at it and think, hm, not very creative, but it does look nice! Atleast, that’s normally what’d happen.”

“Normally?”

“Well, everytime I see this photo, I’ll think of this conversation! Now it has meaning. Now it’s art. It means infinitely more than if I just posted it on instagram, purely for the look of it. This photo will remind me of you. Isn’t that nice?”