FF->PP Post 2: FAILURE TO LAUNCH and a cookie
So I totally did not manage to get, like, breakfast before Blogathon. (Because I had to get down from Salem and pick up three people and yeah.) So I'm lagging a bit, trying to get enough coffee in my system and sort out a few things about this fic and get breakfast. Need food. Haven't found food yet.
I also didn't have a chance to pre-load as much research as I'd hoped. These past few weeks? Utterly crazy. On the other hand, I am the wordiest motherfucker that ever worded these days, so simply writing some of the scenes that I know but haven't taken down yet might take all day. Especially since my verbal processor hasn't started up yet. Trouble coding my thoughts in language properly. Oh, dear. At least I type stupid fast. (99 WPM, according to that meme that went about recently.)
I wish I was still dating E. Then I'd have girlfriendy rights to drag him down here so we have a resident massage therapist.
*****
She was such a pretty little girl, they all said. Golden curls and big blue eyes and a smile like fireworks. Born on the Fourth of July.
Her father was a boxer, loud in his cups and a bull in the ring, but otherwise a gentle man. So many of her earliest memories are from high up, riding about on his broad shoulders. His little star.
As she grew, she liked to shadow him as he shadowboxed, learning everything he knew that she could see with those bright eyes. Her mother would have disapproved--but her mother went away, tuberculosis, when she was ten. He drank more, then, fought harder, kept his head lower. She ran in a pack with the neighborhood boys and learned to jump fences.
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $115 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!
I also didn't have a chance to pre-load as much research as I'd hoped. These past few weeks? Utterly crazy. On the other hand, I am the wordiest motherfucker that ever worded these days, so simply writing some of the scenes that I know but haven't taken down yet might take all day. Especially since my verbal processor hasn't started up yet. Trouble coding my thoughts in language properly. Oh, dear. At least I type stupid fast. (99 WPM, according to that meme that went about recently.)
I wish I was still dating E. Then I'd have girlfriendy rights to drag him down here so we have a resident massage therapist.
*****
She was such a pretty little girl, they all said. Golden curls and big blue eyes and a smile like fireworks. Born on the Fourth of July.
Her father was a boxer, loud in his cups and a bull in the ring, but otherwise a gentle man. So many of her earliest memories are from high up, riding about on his broad shoulders. His little star.
As she grew, she liked to shadow him as he shadowboxed, learning everything he knew that she could see with those bright eyes. Her mother would have disapproved--but her mother went away, tuberculosis, when she was ten. He drank more, then, fought harder, kept his head lower. She ran in a pack with the neighborhood boys and learned to jump fences.
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $115 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!