#there will be a fic published tomorrow asap

[sea-lanterns]

Hey angey - this is the first time I’ve sent a message kind nervous heh but after looking at how u respond I felt more comfortable Js wanna say I love ur works and latebhappy birthday I was kinda busy so I didn’t send anything but yeah ❤️

So for an apology here’s this art of u and ur wifey navia happily married and my oc angry in the back ground cuz why not,,

Btw. Pink navia I found on Pinterest

AAAAAA what this is so sweet! 🥺

Thank you so much for the birthday gift! I love that you drew me standing on multiple boxes bc my little hamster body can’t reach my wife to kiss her 😭😭 Ty for drawing this, fishy 💕💕

[hexesandroses]

Mutuals I'm afraid I'm losing my mind

[hotd-bigbang]

Hello writers!

The AO3 collection opens tomorrow for submissions - we'll be publishing instructions on how to submit your entries, alongside your artwork, once it does. Keep your eyes peeled for a separate post on this!

The deadline is September 15th - if you have concerns about meeting the deadline, consider reaching the 5k word limit (or as close to it as you can get) and turn your story into a multi part fic that can be completed at a later date. We will gladly accept a first chapter as a submission.

If you are concerned you will not have anything ready in time for the deadline, then please let us know ASAP.

Thanks and we can't wait to see your creations!

[fanfictilltheend]

❤️‍🔥Violent Heart❤️‍🔥 aka stepdad!mechanic!convict!joel x afab!reader fic UPDATE

hi i accidentally deleted an ask about whether ❤️‍🔥Violent Heart❤️‍🔥 aka stepdad!mechanic!convict!joel x afab!reader is coming out tonight (sorry anon!!!) The answer is I'm trying my best but I'm not sure i will finish it by tonight. If not tonight then ASAP aka like tomorrow or tuesday. I'm so so sorry for the delay if it happens (still have a few more hours to make stuff happen!!!) and I know i've promised this for forever but this fic is so important to me and i want to do it right and i hope you guys will appreciate that <3 Here's to wishing me luck on finishing in the next few hours which will mark one year of me as a published fanfic author!!! Love you all ❤️‍🔥 THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT ❤️‍🔥

[lola-andheruniverse]

AU Thursday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Dear fellow carylers, today's AU is for everyone that loves McReedus as much as they love Caryl! A Fond Kiss written by @charlibubble is posted on 9Lives.

Summary: But to see her was to love her;Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly,Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met—or never parted—We had ne'er been broken-hearted. (Ae Fond Kiss - Robert Burns) Caryl AU (no ZA) Sophia arranges for her seperated parents to travel to Scotland to attend her graduation in the hope that spending time together might rekindle the deep love they once shared. 

Rated: M / Mature Word count: 37.603 (13 chapters) Published: October 21, 2020 - COMPLETE As its title suggests, this is a very sweet story. Our author was inspired by McReedus Ride episode to create this fic, but, also, by Scotland itself, which is her homeland. This combo means that 1) Carol and Daryl are lovely together and completely adore each other and 2) all the scenery is beautifully described (I need to visit Loch Lomond ASAP). There's fluffy and romance, but also angst and drama, as our favorite characters start this story separated and need to rebuild their relationship after being a considerable time apart. It's a very thoughtful and considerate take in mature caryl, that successfully explores how canonical personality traits could cause friction and suffering in real life. It also gives us Daryl as Sophia's (biological) dad and biggest fan, which is always a win for me. That's it! Go read it and rejoice in the caryl bliss! See you all tomorrow!

[myheartalivewrites]

Seven Sentence Sunday

I keep getting tagged in these and missing them because my brain is too mired in chaos with multiple new WIPs fighting for attention, a big-ass live WIP being published, and one shots insisting on getting written ASAP.

BUT, today is the day and I'm getting ahead of the game. What you get are seven sentences from the next chapter of Deep Blue 💙🌊, coming on Wednesday (feat. Pez comes for a visit, one of my favourite bits of this fic 🥰):

Alex wobbles as he stands up, the gin going up to his head. “Let’s go to bed. I’m wiped, and this hangover is going to hurt tomorrow.” He turns away from Henry and starts collecting the glasses and bottles from the grass. Henry feels like he’s got whiplash, yanked out from the intimate moment they’d been sharing to this, rushing movement and racing words pushing them away from whatever they’d been on the brink of. “Okay,” Henry says, wobbling as well when he stands up from the lounger. There’s something on the tip of his tongue, on the edge of his mind, pulling at him for attention, but his mind is too fuzzy to grasp it, so he lets it go, lets it fade into wisps of smoke and then nothing but a feeling of something that was barely there and is now gone.

Tagging everyone I know's got a WIP going to share it if you like: @largepeachicedtea @inexplicablymine @14carrotghoul @historicallysam @stutteringpeach @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @daisymae-12 (👀 if I may, with the gentle encouragement 👀)

[childlikegoblinqueen]

SCOM CHAPTER UPDATE: LATE!

Sorry everyone! I'm going to be late for the next SCOM chapter! I promise (hope?!?) it will be up tomorrow. I wasn’t able to get up early enough today for my writing time.

Good stuff coming though! I love dropping hints throughout the mixed media/ Penstagram messages etc.

Hope everyone is having a lovely day ... and thanks for reading!

I'm also updating the side story ASAP. I’m currently heading out to a lovely fall day of pumpkin picking with the spouse and kiddos.

In the meantime, for science… how did you all come to the fic? I very nearly didn’t publish anything on AO3 and now I get to share my headcanons with a bunch of amazing people.

Poll below.

[sergeant-spoons]

Secret Santa ‘22 (Pt 2)

@rebeccapearson​​​​​ ~ Secret Santa Pt 2: electric boogaloo. I swear, these just keep getting away from me and getting longer! Your third fic will be published tomorrow (and it’s twice as long as today’s). I hope you like this one! 💕

Your Typical Annual Nixon Christmas Party

Pairing: Lewis Nixon x Female OC

Word count: 5629

Tone: Friends to lovers, mutual pining, only one bed, ballroom dancing, all my homies hate Stanhope Nixon, angst with a happy ending

Warnings: A bit risqué at some parts, nonsexual & nongraphic nudity (taking a shower), brief mentions of body shaming and childhood trauma (I repeat: all my homies hate Stanhope Nixon)

Prompt: “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

Summary: He needs a date to the annual family Christmas party to stick it to his father, and she’s more than happy to go along with the ploy—until she realizes just how bad his father really is. OR The one where Lewis Nixon loves her too much to ever let her go.

Read it here on AO3!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My father is hosting the annual Nixon Christmas party and I need a girlfriend ASAP."

Marisa blinks at Lewis. When he told her he had a favor to ask of her, something of this caliber did not cross her mind. They've been friends for so long that she can usually read him like a book.

Usually.

"Uh... why?"

"Because he'll be twice as unbearable if I go alone."

"Ah." Marisa feels a wave of sympathy. "So... you want me to be your-"

At the same time as Marisa says, "-fake girlfriend to get your father off your back?", Lewis agrees, "fake girlfriend to get my father off my back. Yes. Exactly."

"Why do you of all people need a fake girlfriend?"

He starts to answer, then hesitates.

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"I mean I'm surprised you can't find a real date." Marisa reaches over and dusts a piece of lint off his shoulder, adding, "Charmer that you are."

"I'm flattered," he chuckles, "but I'm not really... in that scene, right now."

She softens. "Right."

"If I don't go with someone," he admits, fiddling with the hem of his sweater, the one she bought him last Christmas, "he'll set me up with some socialite and I'll be married again by the end of the year. And I..." He glances aside. "I can't do that again. Not to me or to her, whoever she would be."

Marisa nods sympathetically, reaching over to smooth down his sleeve. She gets it. He's been divorced twice. No wonder he's not looking for anything right now.

"I understand."

His smile is a little sad.

"I knew you would." A beat. "So?"

They both know she'd go to the ends of the earth for him. It's only a matter of time before she agrees.

"Well," she supposes, having made up her mind, "because you are such a dear friend to me, I'll consider it."

"It's next week," he informs her quickly. "That should give you plenty of time to decide."

"Next week?" She scrunches up her nose as if anything could dissuade her now. "I'm not sure if I can get a dress in time."

"Oh, I took care of that."

Lewis goes over to the Christmas tree in the corner of his apartment and picks up a rather large box adorned with a big green bow. As he brings it over to the sofa, Marisa realizes it is labeled with her name. He comes back to the sofa and deposits it on the table, then slides it her way and gestures for her to take a look.

"Go on. Open it."

Marisa eyes him with playful suspicion; nevertheless, she accepts the box and draws it to her.

"Lewis Nixon, are you trying to bribe me?" she teases as she reaches out and tugs the bow off.

"What can I say?" Lewis shrugs as Marisa lifts the lid to reveal the most beautiful gown she's ever seen. "It reminded me of you."

"Lewis!" she gasps. "It's gorgeous."

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman."

She holds the gown to her chest and turns to him with tears of genuine gratitude in her eyes. Lewis shifts uncomfortably and offers her a slightly nervous smile.

"Hey, now, don't look at me like that."

"It's such a lovely gift."

"It's yours," he promises, "whether or not you go with me."

"Oh, Lewis—!"

"Merry Christmas, Risa. But, ah-" He clears his throat. "-you know, you might want somewhere to wear that dress-"

Marisa can't help the soft laugh bubbling up from a chest full of warmth for his kindness.

"Lewis-"

"-and what better place than a party? You'll go with me, of course-"

"Lewis-"

"-and everyone will see just how beautiful you are and be so incredibly jealous of me-"

"Alright, alright," she laughs, gently letting the dress fall back into the box. "You can stop buttering me up now. I'll go."

"You'll go? You'll go!" Lewis wraps his arms around her and plants a wet kiss on her cheek. "See, this is why you're the best."

"Yes, yes, I'll go-" Marisa wriggles out of his arms, laughing. "-but I've got one condition."

"What? Anything!"

"If it gets to be 10 o'clock and they've still got us trapped, we stage an escape."

Lewis sighs fondly, laying his hand over his heart.

"I could never have asked for a more perfect partner in crime."

A week later, they arrive at the house just before midnight, per Lewis' assumption that his father won't be up to 'greet' them. They carry their own luggage, to the tired-looking butler's relief, and follow him upstairs, trying to walk as quietly as they can past Stanhope Nixon's unfriendly quarters. Thankfully, they continue on and cross from the East Wing of the house to the West Wing, which is far more warmly lit and forgiving. They pass a bathroom with the door open and the light from the wired chandelier inside bleeding out into the hall. A woman in a silk dressing gown is sitting on the edge of a lavish bathtub, painting her nails. She waves lazily at Lewis through the open door and eyes Marisa curiously but not unkindly. They both wave back, and as they continue down the hall, Lewis leans toward Marisa's ear and mutters that she just met his sister Blanche.

"She's the good one, right?" Marisa asks, and when Lewis makes a face, she giggles softly. “Other than you.” 

“Other than me, yes.”

"So you two get along?"

Lewis smiles, one side of his mouth turned up a little higher than the other.

"We bicker the same as any siblings, but I'll never let anyone say a bad thing about her, and she'll do the same for me." He ducks his head. "Well, anyone except..."

Marisa frowns sympathetically. "Anyone except your father?"

He doesn't respond, just turns his head aside as if he's ashamed of the answer, and Marisa knows she's right. She reaches out and takes his hand, and maybe it's a bold thing to do, but after a moment, he curls his fingers around her and relaxes. She catches him looking at their joined hands with a smile as they come up to the door the butler has indicated and her heart gives an unusual flutter.

What's that all about?

Before she can give it any more than a fleeting consideration, the butler is ushering them inside the bedroom, reaching for the light switch to reveal a handsome spread of maroon and gold. There's a grand old bed with a tall spruce headboard, a sideless bookshelf that Marisa is pretty sure is called an étagère, a Victorian-style chaise lounge, a dozen velvety pillows all across the furniture, and even a miniature Christmas tree draped with tinsel atop the dresser—and that's just at first glance. The butler explains there's a bathroom attached to one end of the room and a walk-in closet to the other, and as Marisa's still reeling, Lewis, who grew up accustomed to this luxury, thanks the man and bids him goodnight. The butler shuts the door behind him and it's only then that Marisa realizes this isn't meant to be just Lewis' space but both of theirs.

"Uh, Lewis?"

He's busy dragging their suitcases over to the dresser as quietly as he can and doesn't hear her, so she repeats his name.

"Lewis."

"Hmm?"

Marisa licks her lips, a nervous habit.

"How in the name of Father Christmas is there, in this enormous house, only one bed left?"

From where he's bent over, laying his suitcase down, Lewis looks up, tossing dark waves out of his eyes.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Marisa eyes the chaise lounge. It's pretty big, for a truncated couch with an asymmetrical back. The gold gilding is a nice touch. Lewis sees where she's looking and rises as he shakes his head.

"No, Risa. You're not sleeping on that old thing. There's plenty of room on the bed for the both of us."

Marisa knows he's right, but that little heart flutter has put a sort of nervousness into her that she's not used to feeling, and knowing Lewis has got something to do with it makes her a little wary to share a bed with him.

It's only one night, she reminds herself, and it's not like you haven't been friends for ages.

Lewis looks torn between wanting to apologize and wanting to tease, and it's so like him that Marisa relaxes.

If he didn't trust you, he wouldn't have asked you to come.

"Right," she says aloud, "we'll share the bed," and with that, the matter is settled.

The next morning, they wake up to the cold Winter sun, streaming through the window and illuminating the room. Before Marisa even opens her eyes, she knows it's too early, and from Lewis' soft, wordless grumbling, he feels the same. She snuggles further into him, then realizes what she's doing and freezes. His hand, which has been smoothing down her hair, stills after a moment, and she can feel it against his chest when he sucks in a sharp breath.

Maybe it's not too early to get up, after all.

Marisa tumbles out of bed, yawning, and sleepily flees to the shower. Lewis mumbles a good morning as she goes and she just bobs her head, too shy in the moment to reply with something just as mundane. The bathroom is just as ornate as the bedroom. Marisa starts the water running and turns to the sink to brush her teeth. She looks a little ragged, with her hair all mussed up on one side, her eyes drooping with drowsiness, and one side of her chin redder than the other from how she slept with it smushed into the pillow. She can't imagine how she must have looked to Lewis, creeping away into the bathroom like that. She must have seemed to him shamefaced or sheepish—but he knows better than to tolerate the notion. They both know what their lie is and that it is a lie, and that once this is over, they will still be friends and nothing more.

Marisa's heart gives a pang. She does her best to ignore it.

Once the water is hot enough, she steps into the shower and shuts the glass door behind her. Her whole body relaxes under the stream and she gives a long sigh. She takes a moment just to stand there, stretching her neck and arms, relishing in the water cascading down her frame. The Nixons spared no expense in building this mansion, and the water pressure is no exception.

"Risa?" comes a slightly awkward call from outside the door. Marisa almost misses it with the shower pounding past her ears. She leans out of the stream and acknowledges she heard him, wincing at how scratchy her voice feels and how rough it sounds.

"I'm, uh, I'm going downstairs to get some coffee. You want some?"

She does. When he comes back, she's brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She's opened the bathroom door to let the steam out (blowdrying always makes her dizzy, especially in a hot room), and when he pokes his head in, he's got one hand over his eyes.

"Coffee for the lady."

"Why, thank you, sir."

As Risa takes the mug, she notices the stiffness of his shoulders and the slight downturn of his brow. As soon as she's got the coffee, he tries to leave, but she takes his hand and pulls it down from his face so she can kiss his cheek. He still keeps his eyes closed, but he relaxes, and so does she—they're back on the same page.

"Are you decent?"

"Decently dressed? Yes. Decently caffeinated? I will be soon."

She takes a sip as he finally looks at her, and it scares her, just how much she missed those dark, intelligent eyes of his.

"Ooh, yum." She looks down into the coffee, hiding from this perfectly normal interaction. "Is that peppermint?"

Lewis shrugs, the corner of his mouth tugging up.

"I thought it'd be festive."

"Well, it's good. Thanks."

There's something tender in his eyes when he replies, "Sure," and Marisa has a strange inkling that it's been there all along.

After he's done with his own coffee, they swap, and he showers while she gets dressed. When he emerges, toweling off his hair, shirtless, she pretends she's not allowed to look at him and silently chastises herself for the heat creeping into her cheeks. As she faces away, putting in little earrings by feel, he tells her she looks nice. She thanks him, but then he hesitates, and when she asks what's the matter, he tells her they're going out for the day and she might want something warmer. He turns his back and she swaps her blouse for a sweater, and this time, she can't look away from his smile.

"Better?" she asks a bit meekly, and his smile grows.

"I like that color on you," he says, "it goes nice with your eyes," and before Marisa has time to even consider what he means, he's slipped back into the bathroom, clothes in hand.

They spend most of the day out in the city, avoiding Lewis' family (especially his father). They walk most of the way, but eventually, their feet grow tired and Lewis hails a taxi to take them to his favorite lunch spot. Blanche meets up with them there and stays with them for the rest of the afternoon. She and Marisa hit it off, so much so that Lewis jokes they should be each other's date instead. Marisa, who has taken to walking on his arm, teases him that he's jealous, and although he rolls his eyes, his cheeks have assumed a hint of pink, and he's quick to move on to the next distraction. Blanche shoots Marisa a wink and Marisa giggles despite herself—maybe there's something in the air today that's making her flutter her lashes just a little more every time Lewis looks her way.

They head back mid-afternoon to get ready for the party. Marisa and Lewis confine themselves to their room and play cards to pass the time, betting on promises that might make the inevitable event more bearable.

"If I win, you have to dance with me tonight."

"If I win, you have to dance with me tonight and let me dip you."

Marisa's winning streak is not to be broken. Lewis groans, tossing down his hand, and she reaches over to pat his knee in mock sympathy.

"It's okay," she says around a mouthful of chocolate, "I'll still let you dip me."

Blanche has warned them not to be late, but even then, they stall until they really can't put it off any longer. He takes his tux into the walk-in closet and shut the door, and just for kicks, she yells after him:

"No peeking!"

She hears a muffled laugh. "I wouldn't dare."

"That's right," she replies, getting a goofy grin on her face, and at the same time as she says "I'd kick your ass," he choruses, "You'd kick my ass."

Marisa prepares to wiggle her way into the gown, but to her surprise, when she steps into it, it slips right up her body like silk. She straightens everything out and feels a hint of pride when she manages to zip up the back all by herself. She hasn't looked properly in the mirror yet, but when she does, tugging at her hair, she just about freezes. Her hands drop down to her sides and she stares at herself for almost too long to be sensible. Lewis starts humming an old song from inside the closet and Marisa remembers she's not alone. Coming back to herself, she gives a slight turn to the left and then the right, just to test the flow of the gown. It twinkles in the light, and she gives a squeak, covering her mouth with her hands. Electrified, she bounces all around, watching the fabric ebb and flow, growing giddier by the minute. It's the most expensive piece of cloth Marisa's ever put on her body, and though a part of her feels like a fish out of water, she can't help but admire herself in the gown. When Lewis reappears, adjusting his tie, neither can he.

"Wow." He dares to whistle, and she blushes. "Risa, you look..."

"Good?" she suggests, shimmying to show him how the gown shimmers, and she thinks his jaw might drop.

"Stunning."

"Oh, you charmer, you," she refutes, feeling warm with affection, and comes over to help Lewis. "Here. Let me."

This has been a ritual of theirs for years, ever since they met at Officer Candidate School way back in '41. Marisa teased Lewis for being incapable of tying his own tie despite his wealthy upbringing, and Lewis shot right back, why don't you do it, then? She did, flawlessly, on the first try, and since that day, they've been inseparable. OCS led to the 101st Airborne and Easy Company, and they rode that train all the way to Europe and back. Somehow, throughout all of that, only rarely did they part. About a year after the war ended, Marisa made a quip at a party that the only reason Lewis still kept her around was to manage his ties for him. To her surprise, he drew her aside, gravely concerned that she truly believed what she'd said—for the first time in years, one of her jokes had gone right over his head.

I was only kidding. I know you love me too much to ever let me go, you big sap.

...

Lewis?

Look, Buck Compton's here. Let's go say hello.

It was a strange moment that Marisa still doesn't understand. Even stranger, they've never spoken of it since.

"Really, Risa," Lewis says, breaking the gentle silence and bringing her back to the moment, "you look exquisite."

Marisa chuckles despite the slight churning in her stomach. "You're not so bad yourself, Lew."

He softens. Though she's not expecting his arm to wrap around her waist, she's not startled by it. She's done with the tie, but she keeps ahold of it as he inches toward her and she reciprocates. She can feel his breath on her lips. He's never looked at her this way before—or maybe she's never noticed. His eyes keep darting between hers as if looking for a sign she doesn't know how to give. They're still drifting closer, and Lewis looks like he wants to do something about it—but then he steps back, smooths down his suit jacket, and offers her his arm.

"Shall we?"

Marisa hopes her sigh comes across as one of teasing chagrin and not of disappointment.

"If we must."

Lewis leads the way through the West Wing. He doesn't say a word and neither does she. They pass by Blanche's door—upon which she has pinned a sprig of mistletoe—and head for the main staircase. It isn't long before they can hear the music wafting up from downstairs. They're almost at the upstairs balcony when Lewis abruptly stops. In the shadows of the hall, he is able to hide his fear. For his sake, Marisa pretends she doesn't see it, but she can't help feeling twice as nervous. The butler from last night is standing at the top of the steps, introducing members of the Nixon family as they appear from their rooms and quarters throughout the house. God bless him, he's pretending he hasn't noticed them yet. Marisa is getting more and more anxious about making their grand entrance, and then Lewis turns to her and says he's got a better idea. She squeezes his arm and steps a little closer to his side, wordlessly communicating her relief, and he turns them back down the hall, explaining as they go. Half-hidden around the corner from his mother's old bedroom, there is a far plainer staircase that will take them around to the dining room, a smaller space adjacent to the ballroom. Someone will find them eventually, but this way, their arrival will be far less dramatic and might go mostly unnoticed.

"Ten o'clock," Marisa says quietly, pointing to the large grandfather clock adjacent to the landing.

"Ten o'clock," Lewis affirms with a nod, and just like that, they enter the lion's den.

Unfortunately, their arrival is one of note, and they are announced almost immediately. Standing awkwardly in the lofty arch between the dining room and the ballroom, they watch as the attention of all is redirected their way. Fury flashes in the icy eyes of a tall, hard-faced man who can be no other than Stanhope Nixon. He marches over and directs them to the center of the ballroom, loudly and sternly announcing that his son, the Nixon heir, must have the first dance with his date. The party began fifteen minutes ago, and dancing is already in full force; still, the host forces everyone to step to the side. Marisa's face feels hot. If this is how Stanhope treats his guests, she can't imagine what Lewis has had to deal with over the last twenty-eight years. All eyes are on them. Lewis looks like he wants to throw something—or throw up. They've been through a war and he's still frightened by his father. Marisa's afraid, too. When he sees her hand trembling on his arm, he takes it, squeezes, and draws her to him in the first position for a waltz.

"Ready?" he mouths as the music starts, and she's not sure how she finds it in herself to nod, but she does, and they begin.

Everyone is watching them. Marisa knows if she looks away from Lewis, she'll lose her footing, so she keeps her gaze trained on his, and that does the trick. For several months now, Lewis has been teaching her assorted ballroom dances. She told him once, several years ago, that she'd like to learn if she ever got the chance. Then the war ended and she became his neighbor in New Brunswick, and he, who seems to remember everything she's ever told him, offered to teach her. Tonight, his hand on the small of her back is soothing, and she admires him openly. His hair is neatly combed and coiffed. She wants to run her hands through it, knowing it will soothe him, but she can't. He's holding a great deal of tension in his handsome jaw, but she can see it slacken as they go through the motions without faltering. They make it through the dance, and as their undesirable audience politely applauds, they bow and wish to disappear.

The first hour isn't too awful, after that. Lewis walks Marisa around, introducing her to various family and family friends, some of which are actually quite agreeable. A very old woman with one pair of spectacles on her nose and another perched atop her feathery hair tells them point-blank that it's all her husband's fault for her son's wretched behavior. Lewis chuckles awkwardly and tries to placate her, but as soon as Marisa realizes the woman is Stanhope's mother, she interrupts Lewis and thanks the old matriarch for her sympathy. She brightens up (as much as she can for how slowly she moves) and pulls Marisa over to an excessively long sofa to tell her an equally lengthy story. In the half-hour that Marisa sits with Lewis' grandmother, no one bothers them except for one servant who's obligated to offer them hors d'oeuvres. Marisa is so grateful for the company that she almost blesses the old woman aloud. Then Lewis reappears and tells her they're wanted in the parlor, and her little bubble bursts. Once they have both bestowed his grandmother with a kiss on the cheek, he leads her away, whispering an apology in advance.

"What for?" she whispers back, but then they turn into the parlor, and Marisa understands.

Stanhope, Blanche, and Lewis' mother Doris are all gathered by the fireplace, talking stiffly and eyeing the doorway. Marisa only has time to recall that Stanhope and Doris are divorced before Stanhope spots them and drags them over, commanding that they join the conversation. The next twenty minutes are painful, to say the least, and Marisa does her best to maintain composure while answering every question under the sun as to her personal and professional life. Doris, with her upturned nose and wounded eyes, is clearly displeased to learn her son's date is a woman of literature. When Blanche starts to congratulate Marisa on her recent book deal, Doris interrupts and asks about Marisa's social life and what circles she runs in. Lewis is starting to look like he wants to jump out the window. At one point, Marisa mentions that she served in the Airborne too, and while Doris and Stanhope are practically appalled, she finds some relief in the gleam of admiration in Blanche's eye.

When she's finally unable to stomach Marisa any longer, Doris hauls Blanche off to meet a potential suitor. Marisa is confused why Blanche is looking at her pityingly until Stanhope tells Lewis to fetch him a glass of whiskey and she realizes she is the one in the mire. Lewis tries to take Marisa with him, but Stanhope won't permit it, and he leaves with a muttered promise to be back as soon as he can. Stanhope is neutral enough for a moment or two as they exchange a few words on the evening's décor, but then he eyes her up and down and she feels a shiver of disgust run up her spine. He's off like a shot, then, going on about how her dress doesn't fit her figure right, how unwomanly she is for still being unmarried at twenty-five (how he knew her age, Marisa doesn't know, but it makes her stomach churn to think), and how she ought to find someone more handsome than his son or else the babies will turn out hideous. She's half a second away from slapping him when Lewis returns and exchanges the whiskey glass for Marisa. Stanhope, peeved, saunters off to find ice (which Lewis purposefully left out of the drink), and Marisa falls into Lewis' arms, on the brink of tears.

"Wicked old bastard," she mumbles into his shoulder, and he hisses a breath through his teeth.

"Shit. You okay?"

"Ugh," she groans, huddling closer to him, her lifeline. "What a creep."

She has the feeling he'd hold her for as long as she needed, but people are starting to stare, and she knows she should step back. So she does, and when he asks her again if she's alright, she almost laughs, broken-hearted.

"I'll be fine."

His worried frown persists; she knows he can see right through her.

"Risa-"

"Not here." She shakes her head, touching her hand to her forehead. "How much longer do we have to stay?"

He considers for only a moment before he takes her hand and starts to lead her out of the parlor and back into the ballroom. Stanhope is at the bar against the far wall, drinking his whiskey. Doris and Blanche are a few yards away from him, talking to a suave-looking fellow that Blanche is trying desperately not to roll her eyes at.

"Lewis?"

"Not much longer, if you go along with this."

"With what?"

He wraps his arm around her waist, draws her to him, and asks in that low voice of his, scanning her face with a serious sort of hope, “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people—really kiss me—will you do it?”

She grabs his tie and falls back against the wall, smashing her lips into his. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed. Marisa feels hot all over as he runs his hands up and down her sides. When he pokes his tongue against her bottom lip, asking permission, she lets him in with a hum of desire. As his lips fall from hers and latch onto her neck, somebody whistles, and then Stanhope bellows. As light-headed as Marisa is, she knows in an instant that this is their cue to run. She grabs Lewis' hand and they take off, darting into the dining room and then up the side stairs. The grandfather clock chimes right as they turn the corner and Lewis, spooked, takes a tumble. Marisa helps him to his feet, and they take off again, still hand in hand, laughing to know it is ten o'clock on the dot.

"Where to?" Marisa asks, trusting him to lead the way.

"Not our room," Lewis replies, turning down a narrow hallway Marisa hadn't noticed before. "We've got to hide for a bit."

Footsteps come running up behind them, fast enough to catch them, and as they whirl around, Lewis jumps in front of Marisa—but it is only Blanche. She skids to a stop and almost falls forward as she bends over her knees, wheezing.

"Father sent me after you," she half-laughs, half-gasps. "That was quite the show you put on. I thought Mother was going to faint."

"You won't actually...?"

"Oh, God, no," she says in earnest, lifting her head to look at her brother and his date. "I just came to say my thanks. I would never have escaped if it weren't for you."

To both Blanche and Lewis' surprise, Marisa goes and hugs her.

"You'll get out of here someday, Blanche," she says softly. "You're so much more than these people."

"Well, shit," Blanche replies as they part, sounding a little choked up. "Don't make me cry. My makeup's going to run."

"Sorry," Marisa chuckles, and Blanche squeezes her hand, stepping back.

"I've held you up too long," she says. "Go hide yourselves in Grandmama's old room. She hasn't been able to make it up the stairs for a decade but they still haven't redone it."

"On our way," Lewis agrees, sharing a nod with his sister. "Happy holidays, Blanche."

"The same to you, Lewis."

The door they seek is in the corner of the West Wing, tucked away between a laundry room and the back of the house. Inside, the room is just as hot and stuffy as the rest of the house but not nearly as dusty as Marisa expects. When she finds the light switch and flicks it, she sees it's actually pretty nice. The furniture is more modest in here, something closer to what Lewis has in his apartment back in New Brunswick. For a moment, she wishes they were there, slow dancing to the Christmas music on the radio, him in his tux and her in her gown. She watches him as he crosses to the window and throws it open, and though it's freezing outside, the cold breeze is a welcome change to the stifling hot house. Marisa goes over to feel it and Lewis steps aside, allowing her the window space. She leans back on it, her elbows propped up on the sill and her low-cut dress exposing her back to the elements. Her chest feels sore from the cold and the running, but she feels doubly alive from that surreal, searing kiss.

"Did you ask me to do that just to piss them off?" she asks, still trying to catch her breath. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Terrified of his rejection, she starts laughing, but as soon as she does, Lewis takes her face in his hands and kisses her, hard.

"I love you," he whispers when they part, tenderly smoothing his thumb over her cheek. "I've loved you since that first time you fixed my tie and called me a lazy rich boy for not knowing how to do it myself."

Marisa's eyes are wet, and she blinks desperately, allowing the tears to fall so she can see Lewis clearly again.

"All the way back at OCS?" she asks hoarsely, and he leans closer, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"All the way back at OCS."

She can feel his lips brushing hers, and she wants to kiss him, but there's something more that needs to be said, so she lets him say it.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess," he whispers, his gaze dropping to her lips. "It wasn't fair of me to-"

She silences him with a kiss, trembling when he sighs into her mouth, eagerly giving up his apology.

"If you hadn't," she says, reluctantly parting from his lips, "you wouldn't have asked me to kiss you. And I wouldn't have had the courage to tell you..."

She walks her fingers up his chest to his chin and pulls him in for a slow, deep, breathtaking kiss.

"That you love me, too?" he guesses when they separate for want of air, his eyes sparkling with hope and longing and joy and a million other things that make her heart go wild in her chest.

"That I love you, too," she affirms, and he smiles, leaning his forehead against hers.

"So you liked that kiss, huh?"

Marisa laughs, swatting at his chest in retribution for ruining the moment, but he just grins and leans in.

"About that kiss..."

He crowds her against the window, careful not to let her lean too far back, and she hums happily, running her hands through his hair like she's wanted to all night.

"Where were we?" 

He kisses her neck and she inhales sharply, tilting her head back to see the night sky up and behind her.

"Ah."

He smiles and she can feel it, his lips hot against her cool skin.

"Right here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world​​​​​​ @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​​ @victoryrollsandredlips​​​​​ @now-im-a-belieber​​​​​ @50svibes​​​​​ @mgdln97​​​​​​​ @tina1938​​​​​ @drinkwhiskeyandsmile​​​​​ @ask-you-what-sir​​​​​ @indecisiveimpatience​​​​​ @whovian45810​​​​​ @brokennerdalert​​​​​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​​​​​ @onlyyouexisthere​​

[antivan-beau]

please understand that i'm, in all aspects except physical, the screaming cat meme when i think about zevran and rinna and taliesen. i'd barely considered them before reading your fics but now i'm Invested ;-;

i'm honored/i'm sorry/you're welcome 💖

now that you're invested, you have no choice but to make fic and/or art of them and then tag me 😘

[rosesloveletters]

Loved the question you sent me so I'm sending it right back to you: what do you and your f/os do outside of what you post here to strengthen your relationship/bond? 🤍

My answer's still in my drafts but I have every intention to finish writing it asap

My holiday was fine, spent a few days abroad with my best friend and went to see a concert, it was such a good trip and so needed right now <333

Social media can be draining as hell, that'd why I only post and interact here when I feel like it. Remember that you're under no obligation to make us content if you don't feel like it. It's okay to yourself first, a recommendation even if you will, you deserve to take and make time for yourself <3✨🤍🌙

Hi, magda!! Hope all is well with you, dear. I'm happy you liked the question; I love hearing all about your ships & everything you want to share with me, so I look forward to reading your answers. Take as much time with it as you need - there's no rush or any obligation to respond. You holiday sounds very relaxing🤍 I'm sure that was lots of fun going to a concert with your friend!! you deserve more good times like these~

Social media is so draining, but you're right, we have to take it in stride and only be active online whenever we want. Our mental health is top priority (though that is so difficult for me to remember or follow the advice of.) I've been trying to have a bit of time for myself this weekend, but it hasn't exactly gone to plan yet. perhaps today and tomorrow will be better.

now to answer your question: what do you and your f/os do outside of what you post here to strengthen your relationship/bond?

the stuff I'm discussing in this ask are things I haven't shown or talked about before and if I have talked about them at all, it's been very brief.

one of the things I do with my f/os is that I create lock screen wallpapers of each of them. If I want to feel more connected/close with a specific f/o, I can change my lock screen wallpaper to one of these and it helps me think of them often because of how frequently I see their face when I pick up my phone. 

these are some of the wallpapers I've made:

Another thing I do is make Pinterest boards of random aesthetic photos that remind me of each of my f/os. this helps if I want to make an aesthetic of them or a lock screen wallpaper, but it is mainly for inspiration and ideas if I’m wanting to write a fic. 

here is the board I made, in case anyone wants to make one and doesn’t know how to get started:

and finally, one of the more obvious things I do to connect with my f/os outside of social media, is write personalized fics about them.

writing personal f/o fics is much different than what I share with you publicly. everything in each fic is carefully curated based on my own preferences, likes, dislikes, dynamics, etc. I will either write using my own name or my self-insert, Audrey; I won't use 2nd person (you, yours, etc.) because everything in these fics is specifically tailored to me. with these written pieces, I don't worry about what is professionally or technically right or wrong like I would with a published piece. I focus mainly on the storytelling aspect and getting the lore written out as it comes to me.

self-shipping is not only about self-love, but it is also about (at least in my experience) experiencing a different, more desirable reality where I feel like I have more value, more to offer and am able to be loved and treated the way I feel I deserve but am not able to get in my reality. these fics allow me to "transport myself" fictionally into each world with my f/os and experience/express myself differently than I can in real life. writing these fics are very fulfilling to me and have helped me connect with my f/os the most, because when I'm writing, I'm there.

All of these fics are handwritten in notebooks I carry in my backpack with all my other creative projects.

I have these three personalized f/o fics started:

The Brothers Grimm (2005): kindred spirits (working title.) 

Ocean’s Eleven Trilogy (2001, 2004, 2007): urban dreams in promised land

Scarecrow (1973): wild things (where the wild things are reference)

listing some other things I do to connect with my f/os outside of social media:

make playlists/listen to songs that remind me of them.

imagine various scenarios, specifically before bedtime (sometimes this results in me dreaming about them.)

pretending they’re there helping me with simple tasks, keeping me company, etc.

making aesthetics/mood boards of them.

writing poetry about them or how they make me feel.

[cherryblossom-chopper]

Hi, sugars! Kinktober 2021 starts tomorrow! It's my first Kinktober ever, so I have a few Housekeeping Rules to remind you of. Besides our regular rules, I have just a few extra things. Please keep them in mind throughout Kinktober.

1) Minors Do Not Interact (DNI)

If you are underage or an ageless blog, please don't interact with my Kinktober content. I like to make content for everyone, but it makes me uncomfortable when I see children interacting with my NSFW Content. A few years ago, I was underage, so I understood the feeling of wanting to act like an adult and wanting to consume adult content, but I didn't realize how that made older creators feel. So please, for me, if you're underage, don't like or reblog my NSFW content.

2) Be Mindful of Word Count

Some creators set their Kinktober content to a word limit. I did not. My average word count seems to be between 600-900 words, but some fics go way over that. Please know that a low word count does not mean I didn't value an idea, character, or the person who requested the content. A short word count just means that there were many characters under the same category, or I just wasn't familiar with the character or category.

3) Tag List

On a lighter note, don't forget to join my tag list! If you want to keep up to date with your favorite characters, please fill out the form! Click the link to be taken to the tag list form. You'll get added ASAP.

4) The List

I’m only going to be publishing two per day. So that means I won’t always be posting an entire category in one day. This also means that categories that have only one fic under it will be posted on a day that I’m finishing a larger category. For example; the category Cream Pie has three fics under it. So I’ll post two of those fics on the same day. The third Cream Pie fic would then be posted on the same day as the next available single fic category.

[mendesblurb]

Hey guys, I’m back!!!!!!!!

Firstly sorry for the long note but feel free to read it and get to know a little behind the scene of this account.

I did delete the app for two weeks and didn’t open the website via laptop too so I promise you I’m not ignoring anybody, I just saw all updates today and I’m back now.

To update you, I feel like I’m at a much better state mentally now and it’s good to be back.

As always chat and requests always open if you need a friend to talk to or you wanna request a story ( it might take a while, but I will try to get it done ASAP, I swear)

So the night before the announcement, I basically made an impulsive decision and finally be brave enough to do this break.

I think my close friends here know that this is something I’ve been considering for a while but I have been putting it off because I kept thinking that maybe my fics could help cheer someone up during a relaxing night especially during these covid times.

But what I didn’t realise was that my mental health was dropping and I kept brushing it off. Until I couldn’t handle my own overthinking brain and decided to take this break to have a clearer picture. Mentally I felt like I hit a wall where my mental health was so low and was just constantly doubting myself.

I was also mostly afraid of what people will think if I decide to take a break. Kinda don’t wanna be a disappointment to you guys as I’m still a new writer. I suppose that is the top reasons why this break was constantly delayed and I never thought I should actually do it.

I wanna say that overall this experience was sort of tough but it was just the definition of mandatory. I knew I had to do this because my head was literally about to explode from my constant overthinking and was in desperate need of a clearer mind lol. In other words, a fresh start was necessary so I can create better stories.

The past two weeks I literally did a bunch of baking and cooking for my fam. I made cookies, gnocchi, chicken katsu, dumplings, chocolate muffins, croissants, banana bread, etc. And plus I got to catch up on some Netflix shows, learn a little bit about the finance world, had a mini road trip with the fam and also still trying to do mediation for at least 15 minutes. *phew that was a lot

Tumblr was and still is my hobby, I know that but this break kinda told me how to not make my hobby turn into a chore and also how to turn off a few things for a short time so that I can enjoy other new things that life offer.

This is not a note to shame or blame tumblr, honestly the app will always have a special place in my heart as I can connect with you guys who love Shawn too and also I now have the opportunity to improve my writing skills. And the best thing is that I even got the pleasure of knowing and establishing friendships with some of the kindest and sweetest people ever.

So now here’s what I have to say, as I’m about to open a sort of new chapter of this account.

From the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much for the constant love and support I’ve been receiving. Beyond grateful for every single one of you.

I probably said this more than twice, but I genuinely feel nothing but blessed to be a part of this supportive community.

Cheers 🥂 to establishing more friendships and publishing more stories….. ILY ALL ❤️

P.s. new fic tomorrow and new story every Thursday or Friday :)

Lots of love,

Rai

[sashaweek]

SASHA WEEK STARTS TOMORROW!

We hope you’re as excited as we are! 

How it’s going to work: post your creation (art, fic, embroidery, cross-stitch, cosplay, etc.) on the appropriate day! When you post, either @ us in the post or tag “#sashaweek2021″. We’ll be checking the tag and reblogging everything here!

If you think we’ve missed your post (basically, if about 24 hours has passed and we haven’t reblogged it yet), just shoot us a message and we’ll share it :)

Also, don’t worry about being late! The point is to celebrate Sasha, so even if you’re a day or a few days late for a specific day, we’ll still happily reblog it.

The AO3 Collection: if you’re writing a fic or posting art to AO3, feel free to add your work to “SashaWeek2021″, which is the collection that we host! We’ll approve it ASAP to have the published fic listed in the collection.

[docholligay]

SCHEDULE

There is a not-insignificant chance I could give birth to Jewlet this week, so I crave your patience with me as I extremely scatterbrainedly try to get everything done

Today: Writing and asks and various things! IF YOU ARE A FIC PATRON AND HAVEN’T SENT ME YOUR PROMPT, OR, HONESTLY, EVEN IF YOU HAVE, PLEASE GET IT TO ME ASAP (may be published in early March, but I’m trying to rush it) 

Tomorrow: PGSM writing! Covering two episodes with my thoughts, ideas, dreams, etc. 

Wednesday: Russian Doll liveblog!  Possibly do some more batch cooking so my family doesn’t starve while I’m laid up.

EVERYTHING FROM HERE ON OUT ASSUMES JEWLET HASN’T BEEN BORN

Thursday: Wrap up shit! Finish writing, finish valentine’s (I KNOW I KNOW) try to get everything squared away. And if Jewlet HASN’T BEEN born yet, I got a big box of Ukrainian snacks for me and Jetty to try!  Come see me insult the land of my foremothers (No one, and I mean no one, hated Ukraine like my great grandmother, so) 

Friday: Try to make sure I have the bare bones needed to bring a baby home--I’ll try to get some stuff out to y’all! Stain and barnwood wax the toy chest. 

Saturday: If Jewlet hasn’t been born, I would really like to sleep in, as this may be my last chance? Clean the house as completely as I’m able. If I haven’t given birth to Jewlet yet, maybe I’ll do a movie stream or something? 

Sunday: Laundry as much as I can, finish up anything I haven’t finished on the blog, hopefully. 

Monday: Asks! 

Tuesday: Is Jewlet’s actual  due date and by GOD I hope there’s a Jewlet in arms by then. 

[gumnut-logic]

Fanfic Asks 5

This one is for @louthestarspeaker who asked for D U X, @misssquidtracy who asked for H M O and @janetm74 who asked for W. Thank you for your kind questions ::hugs you all so much::

-o-o-o-

D. Do you prefer gen or romance?

If you asked me this two years ago, I would have said gen. Now…I see value in both. There is something just nice about having a couple who know each other so well that they can just fall into each other’s arms at the end of the day.

But I’ve always been a fan of bromance, two guys who will do anything for each other whether they are related or not. I’m a child of eighties TV and grew up on those kinds of relationships. Kirk and Spock are a prime example (yeah, I know they are from the 60s, but I didn’t exist then and the most of the movies came out in the eighties) .

Which leads onto the question of slash. I do read slash, but not so much in this fandom beyond a little Virgil/Brains. My heart truly lives in the friendship or family department. Even my ship could be considered monogamous happily ever after. This is not because I have any objections to one night stands or flings or whatever anyone enjoys, more of a case of I enjoy it (and Virgil’s character calls for it).

I’m a long term fanfic reader and have stumbled across a lot in my time in fandom. I just choose to read what I like and let everyone have their fun their way. I like a little whump, comfort and loyal and devoted friends. I guess I love the idea that people can stick together through anything.

As for writing, I like a challenge and will step outside my comfort zone time to time just to see if I can do it. However, you will always find a brother hanging around when Virg gets injured :D

 U. Do you prefer AUs or canon compliant fics?

I’m pretty open to all sorts of things…except for character breaking. If the character isn’t in character then it is no longer the character.

::chews nails worrying if I’ve broken Virgil’s character beyond redemption::

If it is well-written and hooks me, I’ll read pretty much anything (within my limits).

Writing…AUs require a lot of world building. My AUs tend to be branches off canon that diverge away, taking the built world with them. Things like coffee-shop AUs are a bit beyond my interest level (especially since I don’t drink coffee).

Marks & Wings is my first completely AU fic series. I did have to do some world building, but they are basically the Tracy bros with wings (except for Gordo, he is considerably different). To be honest, I use that universe as a place to write when I’m completely stuffed. The writing is more sensory than my other fics and I can just get arty farty and play with words.

But, as always, whatever I feel like at the time is what gets written.

 X. What fandom have you written the most fics for?

That would be Thunderbirds fandom. According to Ao3, I’m at 132 Thunderbirds fics with 750,000 words. Reactions plus a few other fics/chapters are yet to be posted.

That is over twice my combined other fandoms, heading toward three times. In two years.

You guys have just inspired me so much. Look what you’ve done! ::hugs you all like crazy::

 H. What is the longest fic you’ve written?

Written in 2003, The Asgard Sequence at 80,000 words (I thought it was shorter at 75,000 ::frowns at FF.net::) was my third Stargate SG-1 fanfic. Full of cliffhangers, it basically whumps Jack O’Neill within an inch of his life while exploring the Asgard people. Lots of plot written by the seat of my pants and nowhere at the quality I’m achieving today, but it remains my most popular fic on FF.net and I still get the occasional comment even 17 years after it was published. It was a landmark fic for me.

The question is…is there enough plotline left in the Kermadec Fic to overtake it? I don’t know. Possibly not, but we’ll see. I do have the tendency to ramble nowadays :D

 M. How do you come up with titles?

Write fic first and work out what to call it when at least partly written. I usually look for something short that sums up what the fic is about combined with an inkling of interest that might help draw the reader in. Sometimes I structure the fic (if I’m planning it) in a certain way that leads to the title.

Here are some working titles versus the final titles just for a little fun (the file names are all that remains – first name first, final name second):

Scott and Jeff – Suits

Riguadagnare – Il Mago

Virg and Gordo – A Good Day

The Visitor – Sky Candy

One of the brothers being ticklish – His Part

Marry Me – The Proposal

Hold Still – Lucky Shot

Gentle Showers – Gentle Rain

The Glacier – Access Denied

Tired Virgil – Tick Tock

Tropical rain is warm – Warm Rain

Veggie’s shower fic – To Hurt Us

Just a few from my computer. I still have several that don’t have titles at all.

 O. Is there any fandom you’ve been into that you haven’t written fic for? Why not?

Definitely. I’ve read:

Farscape

Avengers

How to Train Your Dragon

Arrow

Stargate Atlantis (did start a fic, haven’t finished it – also roleplayed a bit as Rodney McKay)

Sherlock

All the Next Gen Star Trek series (did dabble a little, but never finished anything, my heart lies in TOS)

There are probably more that I can’t think of at the moment. With the exception of Farscape and the Trek series, all of the above were read in the last ten years. They were simply relief from motherhood really. I love fanfic in general, hardly read anything else nowadays, but I wasn’t in the right place to write during my forays into the above fandoms. I was also very focussed on my professional art business.

TAG hit me at a point where I was struggling, in desperate need and I went down like a ton of bricks.

 W. Have you ever written anything that you are embarrassed by today?

Considering the thirty years since I started, sure, there are some fics that are a bit crappy. Heh, I still write crappy stuff from time to time ::eyes Reactions and kicks it with a toe::

But embarrassed? I may have been when I was younger. Especially outside of fandom. But now…I’m a perfectionist who has come to terms (mostly) that my stuff is never going to be perfect. All my stuff has had its purpose and is a step up the learning curve – that goes for everything.

Having said that, I do find myself hesitating to mention the one or two slash fics I have written in the past in other fandoms.

Mentioning that I wrote for Knight Rider gets the oddest looks. I wrote two slash fics in that fandom, but they are close to what I write here in content and plotlines.

I have also written a few explicit scenes in this fandom (of varying quality ::rolls eyes:: ).

Mentioning fanfic outside of fandom has its challenges and when it comes to the above mentions, these are likely not the ones I’d highlight to my workmates (though they all know I write fanfic). I had to stop myself from posting a link to Gentle Rain on Facebook a while back because while I’m happy with its novelish length and content, it does have that one scene…

So, yeah, maybe a little wary of what other people might think of things content-wise. Writing-wise, I’m fairly confident, except when I get the wibblies ::eyes floppy Virg and John…just John…no other Tracy gives me as much strife as Johnny::

-o-o-o-

Thank you to all the wonderful peeps who asked me all these questions. I hope I haven’t bored you silly with my answers (or scared you off with the last one ::chews nails:: ).

I also hope I haven’t missed anyone. Poke me if I have and I will apologise profusely and answer asap.

::eyes word count on questions:: Well, I’ve written 3,500 words about myself ::gulp::

And it is heading toward 1.30am with work tomorrow.

Nutty

(saluting off)

[whenisitenoughtrees]

so i was gonna try and post fic tomorrow. but then i felt bleh today so i didn’t write anything. but i feel a little bit better now, so.... maybe, is what i’m saying

i’m just trying to get this one published asap, tbh, bc the longer i sit on it, the less i like it, and the less likely i am to post it at all, but um, watch this space and i’ll do my best