Yeah, I'm done
I promise, flist, you won't see me again today. Seriously.
I just need to ramble about the fic I just posted, I'm very excitable like that.
You might wanna read the actual story first, cause this? SPOILERS. You've been warned.
Story? This way.
I don't even know, okay? I've spent a couple of days not leaving the computer except to get cigarettes and coffee. There's 17+k of fic to show for it. I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing, but yeah, loved this. Complete creative overdrive rules and I would happily share my brain with Jon Walker forever more. This whole thing is entirely his fault. The way it was meant to go? I really don't even remember. Truth is, the name Tom Conrad was mentioned solely for the purpose of freeing up space in the roomie arrangement. A monster of a story later, Jon's still working on that. What can you do? I will be writing codas for this until the guy gives in.
While I wasn't busy writing down his tangled thought processes, I was on Google Earth to find the house where these guys live and the Starbucks where Jon works. I was out researching birth charts, the American legal system, minimum wage guidelines and movie quotes. I spent ages scrolling through Tom Conrad and Jon Walkers photo blogs. That picture Jon takes of Brendon somewhere in this fic is staring at me from my desktop background. Yes, really. If there was any doubt in anyone's mind I'm utterly bat-shit insane, this is the fic to prove you wrong. Also, in reality, I am very firmly Team Tomrad, just so we're clear on that.
Big, sloppy thank yous to everyone who wasn't above debating Wentzian brain-melts, flip-flop wearing ninjas and perspectives, especially siubhlach , mostly for sharing my vision of the Lord of the Rings/bandom cross-over that I will hopefully never attempt to write, but also just for general awesome.
And yeah, I'm done. This is me reclaiming my brain.
I just need to ramble about the fic I just posted, I'm very excitable like that.
You might wanna read the actual story first, cause this? SPOILERS. You've been warned.
Story? This way.
I don't even know, okay? I've spent a couple of days not leaving the computer except to get cigarettes and coffee. There's 17+k of fic to show for it. I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing, but yeah, loved this. Complete creative overdrive rules and I would happily share my brain with Jon Walker forever more. This whole thing is entirely his fault. The way it was meant to go? I really don't even remember. Truth is, the name Tom Conrad was mentioned solely for the purpose of freeing up space in the roomie arrangement. A monster of a story later, Jon's still working on that. What can you do? I will be writing codas for this until the guy gives in.
While I wasn't busy writing down his tangled thought processes, I was on Google Earth to find the house where these guys live and the Starbucks where Jon works. I was out researching birth charts, the American legal system, minimum wage guidelines and movie quotes. I spent ages scrolling through Tom Conrad and Jon Walkers photo blogs. That picture Jon takes of Brendon somewhere in this fic is staring at me from my desktop background. Yes, really. If there was any doubt in anyone's mind I'm utterly bat-shit insane, this is the fic to prove you wrong. Also, in reality, I am very firmly Team Tomrad, just so we're clear on that.
Big, sloppy thank yous to everyone who wasn't above debating Wentzian brain-melts, flip-flop wearing ninjas and perspectives, especially siubhlach , mostly for sharing my vision of the Lord of the Rings/bandom cross-over that I will hopefully never attempt to write, but also just for general awesome.
And yeah, I'm done. This is me reclaiming my brain.