8, 24, 27 :)
8. what time are you most productive?
I can churn out whole porn novels when I’ve got a essay deadline I should be focusing on instead, oops.
24. favorite scene you’ve ever written
From Flame Keepers:
Eggsy wakes disoriented in the unfamiliar bed, afternoon sun streaming through a window on the wrong wall throwing him for just a moment before he remembers all in a rush and tucks his face into the pillow to hide a grin. The cotton reeks, the scent of sweaty hair damp against his nose, and he twists back round with a grimace, trying to kick away the sheet he’s got tangled round his bare legs.
“Oh my god. Harry, we stink.”
He cracks his eyes open finally and sees the other side of the bed is empty, crumpled and stained but empty. He presses his palm to the sheet there, finding it cool, and feels a weird twinge of regret that if there’s been any first-morning-after cuddling he’s slept like a corpse right through the whole thing.
“You do,” Harry says indignantly from somewhere. “I’ve showered.”
“Where the fuck are you?” He glances around the room – no Harry, although there’s a taxidermy monkey thing on top of the wardrobe that they’re going to have words about – then hears a floorboard creak and shuffles on his front to the edge of the bed, chin resting on folded arms for the best show in town: Harry, shoulders still flushed from the heat of the shower, doing push-ups on the carpet wearing nothing but a pair of little black cotton boxers like the ones Eggsy watched him strip off earlier. For a minute he’s a bit tongue-tied and starry-eyed, gaze lingering hungrily on the tight curved lines of muscles flexing and shifting in Harry’s arms, the narrowness of his ridiculous waist and the long indentation of his spine, then he says, “If you’re gonna do that at least let me get under you first, yeah?” and Harry stutters to a stop, mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile.
“Don’t distract me. I’ve lost count now.”
Eggsy unfurls one arm then and reaches down to touch him, just the gentle stroke of a single fingertip down the length of Harry’s back from his nape to the elastic waistband of his pants. “I think you got as far as sixty-nine,” he says innocently and Harry laughs out loud, bringing himself to his knees in front of the bed and carding his fingers lightly through Eggsy’s filthy hair with a look of such unabashed fondness in his eyes that Eggsy can feel it squirming in his stomach, like the breathless anticipation at the peak of a rollercoaster climb.
“I know you’re on holiday but will you stay?”
“What, like forever?”
“Well. Ideally, yes.”
“Explain that monkey with the tache before I make any hasty decisions.”
“HQ had a whip round for my fortieth and that’s what they got me. He’s an emperor tamarin.”
“They all need to fucking stop encouraging you, you’re out of control. If I’d seen it there earlier I woulda made it face the wall.”
“He’s an antique,” Harry says, faintly scandalised, “and very dear to me,” and Eggsy loops an arm around Harry’s neck in an awkward loose hug, squirms forward on his belly to bump a clumsy kiss off the scar on his cheekbone, and murmurs in his ear, “You’re an antique, and very dear to me,” before getting hit hard in the face with a pillow
27. best review you ever got
ALL OF THEM <3