Title: The World in a Jam Jar Author: Jen (jazzfic) Rating: PG Word Count: ~1,900 Summary: In which Fran is most certainly not a cliché. (Except for the part where she is.) Notes: Written for the
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YOU ARE THE WOOOOOOOOOOORST. AND BY WORST I MEAN BEST.
Blacks Books seems like it must be so hard to write for, and yet this fic looks effortless, which I think is why I'm so amazed by it, because I feel like, logically, you must have struggled with it at parts, but it's just so smooth and gorgeous and it just flows so well that you must be tapped into some magic Black Books world or something.
And Fraaaaaaaaaaan.
Manny thinks that they should all run away together, in a caravan. He shares this thought one night, when it’s late, too late, and she doesn’t feel that it’s entirely fair to leave when there’s still a whole inch left in the bottle. It sounds like he’s been reading too much Enid Blyton again, but she knows he’s only trying to help, it’s all he ever does, so she plants a kiss on his head and gulps the last of her wine until she can feel it slide back up her throat. They have a competition comparing schoolyard traumas. As Bernard tells it, his childhood was a cross between an absinthe-tinged version of Goodbye, Mr Chips
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Hurrah, thank you so much! I think I struggled with every word, to be honest; watching the show you get lulled into a feeling that it's all quite do-able...but writing it, wow hard. It helps that Fran and Manny are relatively grounded--I couldn't begin to imagine how impossible a Bernard POV would be.
(I started to OT3 them so hard after writing that bit you picked out, even though it was meant to be about Fran. They just get into your head.)
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Blacks Books seems like it must be so hard to write for, and yet this fic looks effortless, which I think is why I'm so amazed by it, because I feel like, logically, you must have struggled with it at parts, but it's just so smooth and gorgeous and it just flows so well that you must be tapped into some magic Black Books world or something.
And Fraaaaaaaaaaan.
Manny thinks that they should all run away together, in a caravan. He shares this thought one night, when it’s late, too late, and she doesn’t feel that it’s entirely fair to leave when there’s still a whole inch left in the bottle. It sounds like he’s been reading too much Enid Blyton again, but she knows he’s only trying to help, it’s all he ever does, so she plants a kiss on his head and gulps the last of her wine until she can feel it slide back up her throat. They have a competition comparing schoolyard traumas. As Bernard tells it, his childhood was a cross between an absinthe-tinged version of Goodbye, Mr Chips ( ... )
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(I started to OT3 them so hard after writing that bit you picked out, even though it was meant to be about Fran. They just get into your head.)
♥ to you.
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you're amazing , this is amazing. AMAZING.
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