The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation

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flights of fancy
children of dune - leto 1
It is Friday and I am staring at something I wrote yesterday in some fit of hideously purple sap that is making me blush to read. It's not even sexual. It's five pages of fully-dressed cuddling.

And I still find it cute.

*facepalm* I blame Friday for putting me in a sappy mood. It's embarrassing to coo at one's story.

(Yes, chopchica, that one, but moreso. I suddenly realized it wasn't done.)

In other news--God, I wish I had other news. It has been a long week and I have to get ready to visit svmadelyn next week and did I mention I'm bringing my soon-to-be-married friend V and they are going to love each other at first meeting and break up with me and I will have no friends?

I am totally calling it. Just so everyone knows.

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(And seriously, it's probably not as bad as you think.)

Trembling and manfully repressed tears.


It's okay, baby. It'll be allll right. ::pats you:: It'll be okay.

(Manfully repressed tears? Who are you? John Sheppard?)


Ok, well, let me break you out of your fluffy mood. I too have a confession. I have, for basically the first time in my life, been inspired to write fanfic. It's not cuddly.

It's fanfic of your fanfic.

With drawings. Actually sketches, but I want to draw them out. But that will be work, and I probably won't do it unless I can post it, and I won't post it unless it's okay with you.

So email me? vito dot excalibur at gmail dot com.

YES CHRIST YES. As you like! HOW UTTERLY COOL. I will email this with more capslock.

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