Alcune canzoni le associo a momenti precisi. Ricordo (quasi) perfettamente la prima volta che ho ascoltato davvero Come Out and Play di Billie Eilish. Ero a casa di Alice, credo. Eravamo rimasti svegli tutta la notte a bere e suonare. Erano le sei del mattino, dormivo sul divano-letto in soggiorno con Stefano, credo. Non ci giurerei, ma credo fosse un po' di ore prima della mattina in cui è stata scattata la foto in cui suono, che ancora oggi è la mia immagine del profilo. Ma forse sto confondendo le cose.
Non riuscivo a prendere sonno, non so perché stessi ascoltando la musica. Le note di quella canzone mi arrivarono piano, dolci, leggere. Ero troppo stanco per capire cosa dicesse. La prima luce entrava di sbieco dalle tapparelle chiuse. C'era silenzio. Immaginai che la canzone parlasse di una storia cantata a bassa voce, una di quelle che mi raccontava mia madre da bambino. Scrissi anche una mia versione del testo, la chiamai "Prima della Fiaba". Mi addormentai.
Happy Sunday! Thanks for the tags to the fabulous @artsyunderstudy @stitchyqueer @you-rmind-me-of-the-babe an @hushed-chorus as always, y'all are writng such interesting things!
This week was a monster, but apparently writing smut is a balm for my soul during trying times. 🤷🤣
I also surmounted a bit of a block on A Dangerous Affinity yesterday morning, so you're gonna get a bit of that as well. Everything below the cut 'cause it's long, but especially below the cut is SPICE, so be warned.
From A Dangerous Affinity (not soon, dudes, but like, it's coming):
I’m reading.
I am. Reading.
But it’s hard to focus with Simon’s fingers trailing along my calf. It’s hard to do anything but look at his face, with its soft expression, eyelids dipping half-closed, smile tweaking the corners of his mouth.
But I’m reading.
And some smutty thoughts (from the mind of Simon Snow). From my future maybe nearing-finished EGF piece:
If I had my pick, the place I'd most want to find him would be the football pitch, sweaty and muddy, with his glorious thighs on full display. I imagine him in a jock strap, and it’s… mouth watering. My mouth is actually watering, imagining his firm arse framed by elastic, his dick entirely hidden by the cup, not even an outline, except I know what’s underneath.
(I imagine knocking on the cup. Hello there, is Baz’s dick home? Can he come out and play?) (Somehow this thought makes me even randier.)
knocking at your door, my friends @cutestkilla @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch @raenestee @nightimedreamersworld @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, come out and play.
Ep93 Psycho Drag Race Party w/ Charles Busch! (Broadway!)
Shantay, you trail-blaze! Because we're joined by legendary Actor/Playwright/Drag Diva, Queen Charles Busch! (Say what?! *faints*) This week, the writer/star of Psycho Beach Party joins our torturous luau for the rompin', stompin' living legends, Twisted Sister- who 'Come Out and Play' - before we sail back in time for the classic flop, Ankles Aweigh!
Plus, we chat Dying in Oz, Drag Race dream casting, the dumbarse Anti-Drag movement, American Horror Story, and we find out what brilliant advice the late Goddess Joan Rivers gave our grand leading lady. And so much more you'll need to tuck it in tightly just to fit it all in!