Intro. post - that's right, little friend
raedbard:
samslashtoby
samslashtoby
Toby/Sam: The Batman and Robin of Speechwriting
Sat, Aug. 12th, 2006 11:29 pm
Intro. post

*waves* Hi!

This community exists mostly because I was sad that there wasn't one already. Slashing Toby and Sam, the poets of The West Wing, has been one of my favourite things to do for over a year now and I hear tell that there are other people who feel similarly. So I thought it'd be good to have a place to congregate. And this is it. I hope you'll find things you like in here. :)


There aren't many.

Please warn for spoilers and use cut-tags for long posts. And be nice to each other, of course. Trolls will not be tolerated. Things not even tangentially related to Toby, Sam, Toby/Sam, Richard Schiff, Rob Lowe or TWW generally will probably be deleted. Fair warning.

And that's all.

It'd be lovely (but not compulsory) if you could:
1. Introduce yourself
2. Tell us just what it is you love about Toby and Sam (together, apart)
3. Pimp your stuff (fic, icons etc.), if you'd like
in a comment to this entry. :)

But most importantly - have fun, bring us slash and love on the boys! :)

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celbalrai
Amelia
Sun, Aug. 13th, 2006 08:58 am (UTC)

*waves back*

Squee! You made the community! I will do the introductory post thing later though. (And do I have to pimp? It's scary!)


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raedbard
raedbard
if I seem a little strange, that's because I am
Sun, Aug. 13th, 2006 06:53 pm (UTC)

*glomps*

(And do I have to pimp? It's scary!)
Not if you don't want to, sweet. :) But I just wanted to give people the opportunity so they didn't feel awful if they wanted too. Because pimping makes the world go around. ;))


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inocciduous
inocciduous
inocciduous
Mon, Aug. 14th, 2006 01:29 am (UTC)

1. *waves* The more Toby/Sam the better, IMHO. :D
2. Words. Wordswordswordswordswords. It's all about the poetry of prose with these two.
3. .... If I ever get off my ass and start writing, I might actually do that!


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scrollgirl
scrollgirl
scrollgirl
Mon, Aug. 14th, 2006 06:01 pm (UTC)

1. scrollgirl, or Scroll to those who know me well. I came late to the game (Nov 2005!) but fell in love after a weekend binge of TWW Season 1. While I adore Seasons 1-4, I've been hesitant about watching Seasons 5-7 because it's not the same "family" post-Rob Lowe and post-Sorkin and Schlamme. But just last week I watched Act 4 of "In God We Trust" (6x20) and I thought Vinick was terrific. So now I'm planning to plow through the rest of the series.

2. Sam and Toby have this incredible intimacy and trust that we see develop over four years. While Josh grows a bit distant by mid-S4, Sam's relationship with Toby only becomes more complex and essential. I'm fascinated by their dynamic as writing partners, their dramatic flair and style, their ideals and politics, the times they clash and the times they harmonise.

I 'ship Sam with a lot of different partners (Josh, Ainsley, Will, etc.) but Toby I 'ship almost exclusively with Sam or Andy. Well, I like pairing Toby with Sam even if it's not specifically slash.

But recently I've fallen head-over-heels for Sam/Will (seriously, how cute are they!) and the role Toby plays in their romance is more of a mentor, big brother, reluctant chaperone, and even bemused co-conspirator ;)

3. I've got icons, with lots of Toby and Sam, and Toby/Sam. (Icon posts labelled but not sorted by fandom, sorry!)


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raedbard
raedbard
if I seem a little strange, that's because I am
Mon, Aug. 14th, 2006 06:14 pm (UTC)

I suppose it's my turn now? ;)

1. I'm Em, and I seem to have a strange obsession with making LJ communities. I also have a marked addiction to one Toby Ziegler. I'm informed that there is no cure.

2. Ahhh, my boys. Really, it's all about partnership - as friends, as work-mates, as lovers (potentially, at least). They understand things about each other that they can't share with anyone else. They create things in the other that no one else can. They are a wonderful excuse to think about beautiful words and try to fit two men inside them and figure out what they mean. And whenever I write/read/watch them I come away with this sense of something bigger than two guys which seems oddly important. (They bring out the poet within. *embarrassed*)

3. I write Toby with almost everyone and Sam with hardly anyone but Toby. (My stuff. And, more pertinently, I am in the middle of a Toby/Sam epic: Like A Bright Exhalation in the Evening. Of which I am oddly proud. :)

*squees*


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black_eyedgirl
black_eyedgirl
black_eyedgirl
Mon, Aug. 14th, 2006 06:47 pm (UTC)

hola :-)
Given that raedbard has spoken, I probably should do that too.

1. I'm Laura, and Em has been nice enough to make me co-mod, for I am her partner in Sam/Toby love. I have wild adoration for S1-4, but strangely am mostly writing post-S7 at the minute. It'll pass. Also, Sam has a slight edge in my writer!love, but that in no way prevents me from loving Toby.

2. (I'm really bad at this part, you could just read my bit in the comm info instead...) Toby's awkward affection/protectiveness, Sam's utterly unembarassed worship/protectiveness. Poetry. Pie. "Princeton". Pilgrim detectives. Other words beginning with P... Partnership, like Em says, is key here. The magic the two of them create with their words that is unlike anything else in the West Wing. A secret that only the two of them understand.

3. My west wing tag has all the fic and icons. Alternately, hit memories and Sam/Toby is there. Also in the drabbles, and the misc, because I'm pretty much writing Sam/Toby in everything...


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rhia_starsong
rhia_starsong
rhia_starsong
Tue, Jan. 30th, 2007 02:57 am (UTC)
Intro. and slight pimpage

Ok, I've been lurking for a while now, and totally admiring y'all's fic. So now I gather my courage and introduce myself.

I'm rhia, or Stephanie in the unfortunate reality that exists outside of lj. Sam is definitely my favourite character, but the two things that make me happier than Samfic are Sam/Toby and now Sam/Will. There's just something magical and significant about Sam and Toby when they interact, and the evolution of their relationship fascinates me. I probably think about this way too much, but then, don't we all on here?

Anyway, I read more than I write, but I do have two (related) offerings for this post. They're much more subtext than text, as far as the slash is concerned, but they're also pre-admin.

::waves to all the people::


Scene At Dawn

And before he can stop it, his right hand reaches out to brush the dark hair off the younger man's forehead. Despite being slightly damp from the sheen of sweat on his brow—it couldn't still be blood from the accident, could it? Oh, God, he's not still bleeding, please; but then his own fingers, paused mid-motion, would be red and sticky, and they're not—despite the sweat-damp, the other man's hair is very soft; surprisingly so. Or it would have been surprising if he'd ever consciously thought about it before now, which he hadn't. Oh, no, not him; he wasn't going there, absolutely not— So he stood there with his hand halfway through the gesture; realising this, he finished running his hand but not his thoughts. When had he let this man get close to him, become important to him? This thought had been worrying him for the past six hours like a horse looking for sugar lumps; and he still has no answer for it. Just, here, at dawn, the scene plays itself out to its silent not-end as the sun finds him caring, again.

Scene At Dawn: Prologue

swish-thunk. swish-thunk. The sleet driving in makes driving out nearly impossible, but sometimes impossible’s a necessity. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his ‘93 Dodge Dart heading toward the hotel to meet the others, he doesn’t need to glance over at the man in the passenger seat. He knows from experience the other man’s tie will be loose, his dark hair slightly mussed, and he will have his rimless glasses on as he makes notes on his laptop. This is not the first late-night car-write they’ve done, though admittedly the Virginia winter is a little harsh this year. Third straight day of nasty frigidity, and the campaign trail makes it even more miserable. Polish the silver, polish the gilt words; and now he does look over at his driving companion. Returning his eyes to the road, he is unprepared for the solid pavement which had been reliably whooshing beneath his tires to be replaced with nothingness—no traction, wild spinning, oh god, there’s a pole up there—


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