#knave-verse

tagged by @paperstorm, @sanjuwrites, @strandnreyes, @carlos-in-glasses, @three-drink-amy, @freneticfloetry, @bonheur-cafe. Thank you!

He calls TK from the car. “I’m being followed.”  He peers in the rear view mirror and rolls his eyes.  “Badly.” TK snorts.  “Would you like a more competent criminal?” He turns on his blinker for the turn back to the hotel.  “Yes.  You were always competent.  It’s why Matt liked you.” TK makes an outraged noise. “Excuse you.  I was more than competent.  I was a fucking master of my craft.”  Carlos grins and pulls into the garage. “I’m about to lose service.” TK sobers abruptly.  “I can’t tell you to stay safe, but promise me you’ll be careful.” He can’t really promise that either.  “I promise I will come home to you.”  It’s the same promise TK has made him three times now, and he’s come back to Carlos every time.  It feels like a good luck charm.

as a separate question (while I'm here) what are your top pieces of advice when it comes to writing fic (of any fandom)? is there anything you would do differently if you could theoretically start afresh?

Aww, thank you!

You absolutely should watch White Collar. Matt Bomer is so pretty, and has never looked better than he did in Neal's suits (the S1 hair is a little poofy, but it gets tamed eventually). Ahem, also it's very smart and witty. We are not totally shallow in this household.

oof, writing advice. Umm.

Find someone you trust that you can bounce ideas off of.

Writing requires a certain amount of letting go of your ego, and being willing to be brutal with yourself and with what you write. You cannot be precious about it.

Story plans are not your enemy. I am the queen of starting in the middle and writing outwards in both directions from there - but honestly, having a structure to work off of, actually helps. I do not always take my own advice, but I should.

Remember that it's supposed to be fun. It's not a job. There's no test. This is for fun. If it's not fun anymore, find a way to make it fun again, or walk away. There's no point in twisting yourself into knots for something you don't need to - there's enough shit in the world that you have to do. This isn't one of them.

As a corollary. Your first reader is you. Write something you want to read.

You get better with practice.

There's always a period where you can't remember how to write. Trust that eventually you'll remember again. Really. I promise.

tagged by @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @orchidscript, @whatsintheboxmh, @lemonlyman-dotcom

@strandnreyes, @iboatedhere, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @theghostofashton, @chicgeekgirl89,

@reyesstrand, and everyone who tagged me on Sunday when I did not have the brain space to play. Thank you!

Have two snippets in recompense - one Lonestar, one OG 911.

Knave-verse Paris Caper (actually someone throw prompts at me, because I'm stuck on what the con is, and I work better when someone eggs me on)

It is, he supposes, a step up from your run of the mill cocktail party.  Then again, anything being hosted in a 17th C maison particulière where he’s been handed a crystal flute of champagne, and everything he can see has been dusted in gilt, is going to be a step up from your average Austin country club fundraiser. “You take me to the nicest places,” he murmurs to TK, and is really only being a little facetious.  “Are we allowed to walk around?” TK eyes their reflection in the large mirror over the fireplace. “ They encourage it.”  Tucks a hand through Carlos’s arm.  “Come on, let’s mingle and admire.” They wander slowly through the ground floor of the townhouse (mansion?) and then out into the private gardens, hung with paper lanterns.  “So, you’re sure that Drosselmeyer will take the bait?” TK hmms, attention focused on a statue. “I think that’s a Rodin.”  Then gives Carlos his attention when Carlos doesn’t say anything.  “Drosselmeyer?  Oh, yes.  He’s already taken the bait.” Carlos swings around.  “He has? Is he here?” TK gestures towards the house.  “In the salon.  Right now he’s asking what name you gave at the door, and who invited you, and calling a couple of people to ask why you’re slumming it with me.” He sounds smug. The plan is to let TK’s reputation do the work for them.  They don’t really have time to set Carlos up with an entire false identity and let Drosselmeyer find him on his own, so they’re shortcutting the process.  Drosselmeyer sees Carlos with TK, assumes that TK is there for a con, and then tries to con Carlos out from under TK’s nose. TK and Caffrey had both sniffed in disdain, and he’d traded a look with Sara in amusement.  “It’s tacky,” TK had pronounced. “But so is Drosselmeyer, so it’s definitely what he’ll do.”

Buck/Tommy with @cecilyv- working title - no, really the Buckley's are actually shitty people - because @cecilyv just rewatched the Daniel arc and asked nicely - has approximately 8,000 words in it, we have not yet met the Buckleys ... so you know, that's going.

Tommy pulls off into a little park overlooking the city, backs into a spot, parks and jumps out of the truck, Buck trailing behind him. Pops down the tailgate and spreads the blanket he pulls from the cargo hold out. Climbs in and holds his hand out for Buck to follow.  The lights of the city are spread out all around them, blanketing the ground.  He hesitates for a moment, staring at Tommy’s hand. It feels like a moment.  A line.  Which is ridiculous, because he’s not going to be more queer if he climbs up into the bed of the truck and lies down next to Tommy.  Won’t make him less queer if he doesn’t.   It isn’t even really anything new.  It’s a little secluded, but they’re still in public, and Tommy is a gentleman - isn’t going to take this further than Buck is comfortable with.  Buck wishes maybe that Tommy would push - not a lot, just a little, enough to get him over his nerves.  Because he’s not nervous when Tommy is touching him, kissing him.  It’s just that moment before, the inbetween, that makes him nervous. He looks up and can see the patience, and the concern in Tommy’s eyes.  Suddenly doesn’t know what he’s hesitating for.  Takes Tommy’s hand and lets him pull him up, settles down next to Tommy on the truck bed, close enough that he can feel the heat of Tommy’s body bleeding through his jeans.

tagged by @strandnreyes, @paperstorm, @orchidscript, @whatsintheboxmh, @three-drink-amy, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @carlos-in-glasses, @heartstringsduet, @chicgeekgirl89, @herefortarlos

Despite the fact that nobody will shut up long enough to steal anything, we do inch closer to a theft.

Also, I can't believe I've written over 200,000 words of this and nobody has had fashion montage yet.

The tailor - who, he’s just realizing, never gave them a name - tweaks, and tugs, and smoothes the fabric into place and makes a pleased sound.  “Next time, monsieur, you will give me more than a day, and this will fit better.”  Carlos can’t imagine what will fit better than this suit.  “But,” the tailor sniffs, “Monsieur Farrington said you had a party tomorrow and no clothes, and well, I do what I can.” He stares at himself.  “This is amazing.  Thank you.” There’s a low whistle from behind him, and when he looks up TK is staring at him in the mirror, catches his gaze and lets Carlos see his appreciation.  He flushes under TK’s frank regard, which is ridiculous - they live together, they’re getting married, they have sex all the time, TK’s blatant appreciation should not be making him weak at the knees. He clears his throat. “Think this’ll sell the idea?”

tagged by @bonheur-cafe, @orchidscript, @reyesstrand. Thank you!

Two snippets from two 911 settings.

Lonestar Knave-verse Paris caper

“Explain to me again how this works?”  Caffrey raises an eyebrow, and he gestures.  “Why exactly is he just going to sell me a highly recognizable stolen van Gogh?” “Unlike Caffrey,” TK drawls, “when most of us steal things we don’t keep it and creepily stare at it like a dragon with a horde.” He raises his eyebrow at Sara’s badly concealed snort of amusement and looks inquiringly at TK, but it’s Caffrey who answers with a careless wave of his hand.  “That was one time.”  He frowns.  “How well known is that?”  TK gives him a deadpan look, and Caffrey grimaces.  “Never mind.  Don’t tell me.  I don’t want to know.”  Turns back to Carlos.  “TK is right though, we want to sell the things we steal as soon as possible.  Travel light.”

911 'The Buckley parents are terrible, no really' (we have actually achieved a sighting of the Buckley parents, and they are very passive aggressive), but it's Sunday, so have some porn instead.

 If you’d asked him yesterday he’d have said a blow job is a blow job, how different can it be if it’s a girl or a guy giving it to you.  And he’d have been wrong.  So very wrong. There’s a man between his legs, and Tommy rubs his cheek against Buck’s thighs like he wants him to know who’s down on his knees in front of him, whose breath is hot against him, the width of his hands against the back of his thighs, bracketing him in.  His mouth is bigger, and hotter, and his shoulders are wider, and there’s stubble under his fingers when he traces where Tommy’s mouth is stretched around him, and he can take the way Buck digs his fingers into his shoulder, and braces Buck’s weight when his legs shake, and Buck is going to come embarrassingly fast.

🖼️🖼️🖼️ please Lim!!

and @carlos-tk

Technically I think I need to rework the base con in this story, but until I have the brain space to figure out how to do that.

“It’s a forgery,” Caffrey says numbly.  “All of them were forgeries.”

“I know.”  Where Caffrey sounds devastated, TK sounds reluctantly impressed.  “I didn’t think Drosselmeyer had the balls to pull that off.”

“What are you talking about?”  Caffrey’s voice is sharp and genuinely upset.

He sees TK shrug out of the corner of his eye.  “I mean, you have to admit, it’s a good con.”

tagged by @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, @heartstringsduet, @paperstorm, @bonheur-cafe, @lemonlyman-dotcom,

@ladytessa74, @whatsintheboxmh, @carlos-in-glasses, and @strandnreyes

Thank you!

Latest Buck/Tommy fic (w/ @cecilyv) is so close to completion. We're both using it as a distraction from real life. Have something entirely different instead.

In which the author has some things she'd like to work out about Paris tourist attractions. Seriously, ask me for my potted Paris tour guide.

Also, this is legitimately the most self-indulgent thing I have ever committed to paper (well, virtual paper).

Caffrey slides into the third seat at their table again the next afternoon.  TK slides his sunglasses down his nose. He really is unbearably sexy sometimes.  Carlos makes a note to do something about that this evening.  "Caffrey." Caffrey looks wistful for a moment.  "Been a while since anyone called me that."  Smiles brightly.  "So, what did we see today?" Carlos raises an eyebrow at TK who shrugs.  "The Rodin museum, and then just wandering around St Germain.  Bought a lot of cheese." Caffrey nods genially.  "Excellent."  He glances at TK who is suspiciously quiet.  "Where else have you been?" Carlos gives TK another look, but he's apparently studying the menu.  "St Chapelle, the flower market, Notre Dame, Palais Royal.  We're planning on going out to Vaux le Vicomte later this week." Caffrey nods. "Good choice.  Much less crowded than Versailles, same aesthetic."  TK nods absently without looking up, it's more or less what he had said.  Well, no, TK had said, "only if you want to know how cattle being led to slaughter feel," and then suggested Vaux le Vicomte as an acceptable alternative.  Carlos is basically just along for the ride here.  Caffrey taps a finger on the table.  "Not the Louvre?" "Not unless I'm allowed to break in after hours," TK mutters. Caffrey grins.  "I could help with that."  He and TK share sharp smiles that look more like bared teeth.  "The Mona Lisa is overrated." That gets TK to put down his menu.  "Caffrey, why are you here?" Caffrey taps the table.  "I have a small thing I was wondering if you'd like to help with." TK narrows his eyes.  "I don't do that anymore."  Gestures at Carlos, "and he's a cop." Caffrey hums.  "Yes, I'd heard." TK grins suddenly.  "How is Mozzie?" "Says hello.  Said to tell you Jack says the women in Brazil are looking particularly fine this year."  TK snorts.

There’s a way that panic can make you feel nauseous, and he has to swallow hard before he can get the words out.  “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Trudie gives him an approving smile, like a teacher with a student who’s given the right answer.  “You’re going to help me steal a statue.”

The Knave of Clubs . . . swears he'll take her part

liner notes below the cut