I started my first fest fic of this season way later than I should have. Consequently, editing it was like trying to decipher the Bayeux Tapestry with my nose pressed to the fabric, and it was an unnecessary ordeal I am thoroughly ashamed of myself for bringing about. So from now until the end of fest season, I am on a strict three hours a day
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"If it's got my nose or your intellect, I'm drowning it in the lake," said Snape.
I died of laughter. Snape is so in character.
I seem to have done the same as you have - I was thinking about hating mpreg and how Accio really likes it and how I bloody well can't understand that at all and then i had an mpreg idea that's consuming me.
Blast it all.
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Ahhhh, clearly this was her wicked plan all along. I say obey the muse!
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WILL GET RIGHT ON IT.
Although really I should be doing my three hours a day.
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Mwhahahahaha! My wicked plan is working!!!! I mean...oh, such a surprise!!!!
Oh, I *loved* the banter between the two of them. So many hysterical and utterly *perfect* lines:
"Not likely," said Snape, folding his arms. "I need my fingers for work."
Ah, Snape is too smart for you, Harry!
"I want it to interfere with the contractions!" muttered Harry.
Bwhahahahaha! No. kidding. Anya - you're certain you never gave birth before? Because this? Totally.
If it's got my nose or your intellect, I'm drowning it in the lake
*snicker*
Hmm, normal…" said Harry. "Normal… like James?
It's official - ILU. Really. That anyone would imagine that Snape would ever permit his son to be named after James Potter no matter who he was screwing is delusional to truly Harmonian epic proportions. Suddenly his agreeing to Albus Severus makes complete sense. I applaud you.
And thank you for this. It was a wonderful surprise. ♥ Heh. That's me, making people write my kink and their squicks since always. *glee*
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I base all my knowledge upon my mother's entirely un-romanticised retelling of my own birth. I was extremely awkward, and she cursed me for it loudly, and with my Dad's hand in a sadistic death-grip, for about nine hours. Then when she finally saw me, I was so long and lanky that I looked a lot like skinned rabbit, and with a wonky head to boot. (Thankfully, this is no longer the case.) Oh, and I was blue. Then when I was finally normal enough to go home, the breathing monitor panel in my cot repeatedly registered me as not breathing so that even though I slept quite well I still got them out of bed. And I slept with my eyes open and freaked them out. Still do, actually. Muahaha.
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