I'm soclose to writing Merlin fic, you have no idea
I'm just a little hung up on what to write. Which means you're probably going to get poorly plotted AU fic, but whatever.
And omg, I'm on my fifth day off from work and I'm going insane. I can't wait to go back into the office tomorrow, you have no idea. Blessed peace and quiet! No cats lounging on my chest or dogs barking in my face! This is why I can never work from home.
ETA: Hey, I just updated my homepage, check it out and let me know what you think? Is it less confusing, more confusing, doesn't make much difference - I could make a poll, but I'm extremely lazy.
Also, for some reason, I'm still writing William's House of Orphans. It's kind of really, really bad :) Like, so so bad, oh man, but I'm having so much ridiculous fun:
Ryan never remembers to eat, but Spencer has long since stopped trying to collect him for dinner. It’s just as easy to cajole a tray out of Cook later than to ferret out wherever Ryan’s wandered off to.
So Spencer’s alone when he slips into the dining room and finds someone who he doesn’t know, grinning at Jon like Jon’s discovered chocolate ice cream or shoe buckles - Spencer’s awfully fond of shoe buckles - and Spencer’s stomach does this flip. This truly annoying giddy flip that he quickly covers with a frown and narrowed eyes. Spencer isn’t all that comfortable around strangers.
Victoria stops by Spencer’s side where he’s hovering in the doorway. Victoria has always been the greatest of tomboys, but she’s recently ceased lacing their fingers together, and she’s recently started donning the most ridiculous dresses that Spencer supposes are stylish, somewhere, but seem a great deal more hassle than the lighter skirts she could ruck up to her knees when they went tree climbing out back. She clasps his hand now, though, and tugs him further into the room, whispering out the side of her mouth, “His name’s Brendon, and I’m afraid he’s the most adorable boy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“More than me?” Spencer asks, smiling now, like he’s sure she meant to have happen.
Victoria pinches his arm playfully. “I just said, didn’t I?”
“Shrew,” Spencer says.
“Harpy,” Victoria counters.
And omg, I'm on my fifth day off from work and I'm going insane. I can't wait to go back into the office tomorrow, you have no idea. Blessed peace and quiet! No cats lounging on my chest or dogs barking in my face! This is why I can never work from home.
ETA: Hey, I just updated my homepage, check it out and let me know what you think? Is it less confusing, more confusing, doesn't make much difference - I could make a poll, but I'm extremely lazy.
Also, for some reason, I'm still writing William's House of Orphans. It's kind of really, really bad :) Like, so so bad, oh man, but I'm having so much ridiculous fun:
Ryan never remembers to eat, but Spencer has long since stopped trying to collect him for dinner. It’s just as easy to cajole a tray out of Cook later than to ferret out wherever Ryan’s wandered off to.
So Spencer’s alone when he slips into the dining room and finds someone who he doesn’t know, grinning at Jon like Jon’s discovered chocolate ice cream or shoe buckles - Spencer’s awfully fond of shoe buckles - and Spencer’s stomach does this flip. This truly annoying giddy flip that he quickly covers with a frown and narrowed eyes. Spencer isn’t all that comfortable around strangers.
Victoria stops by Spencer’s side where he’s hovering in the doorway. Victoria has always been the greatest of tomboys, but she’s recently ceased lacing their fingers together, and she’s recently started donning the most ridiculous dresses that Spencer supposes are stylish, somewhere, but seem a great deal more hassle than the lighter skirts she could ruck up to her knees when they went tree climbing out back. She clasps his hand now, though, and tugs him further into the room, whispering out the side of her mouth, “His name’s Brendon, and I’m afraid he’s the most adorable boy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“More than me?” Spencer asks, smiling now, like he’s sure she meant to have happen.
Victoria pinches his arm playfully. “I just said, didn’t I?”
“Shrew,” Spencer says.
“Harpy,” Victoria counters.