My Happy Place

Because real life as a single mom is, well...real. Here I can escape into a thousand new worlds through stories and see amazing pictures and find a community. All without leaving the radius of my son's baby monitor...

literatec:

Do you guys ever think about how lucky we are?

We get to read novels that other people will never know existed. We get to know authors before they hit the mainstream.

We get feedback from like-minded people who are 90% of the time gushing over how much they love our work.

We get to watch ourselves grow as writers, laugh and cry with our favorite characters in ways most people will never get to experience, and discover new writers who become our friends.

Guys.

Fan fiction RULES.

(via theinternetbed)

Possibly I Like The Thrill: Chapter 14 | Archive of Our Own

Total words: 79,821    Chapter 14/15  

Relationships: Sherlock and Victor Trevor, Sherlock/John, Sherlock/Mary/John

As always, much love to the most wonderful beta reader and friend ever, hedwig-dordt, for all of her hard work on this!

Excerpt: 

They seem to be in a playful mood, so Sherlock shrugs out of his dressing gown, tosses it in John’s face, and grabs her around her waist to carefully topple them onto the bed. He’s not sure if she’s ticklish, but it seems like the right time to find out.

Mary shrieks playfully and squirms, not really trying to escape Sherlock’s questing fingers. “John! Help!”

“Oh no, you’re on your own!” John replies, getting up and leaning over to grab one of her ankles so he can tickle the soles of her feet.

“Come now, surely you can do better than that Mary,” Sherlock mock-admonishes as he finally gets a hand down to tickle her side. He has about a half a second to realize the tactical error in that phrasing, and then he finds himself suddenly pinned on his stomach with one hand up behind his back and the other trapped beneath her knee. Her free hand finds its way into his hair and then his neck is pulled back just hard enough for him to realize it could hurt if she wanted it to.

“You were saying?” She drawls, digging her nails into the skin of his wrist.

Possibly I Like The Thrill 

 Total words: 79,821    Chapter 14/15  

Relationships: Sherlock and Victor Trevor, Sherlock/John, Sherlock/Mary/John

As always, much love to the most wonderful beta reader and friend ever, hedwig-dordt

Excerpt: 

They seem to be in a playful mood, so Sherlock shrugs out of his dressing gown, tosses it in John’s face, and grabs her around her waist to carefully topple them onto the bed. He’s not sure if she’s ticklish, but it seems like the right time to find out.

Mary shrieks playfully and squirms, not really trying to escape Sherlock’s questing fingers. “John! Help!”

“Oh no, you’re on your own!” John replies, getting up and leaning over to grab one of her ankles so he can tickle the soles of her feet.

“Come now, surely you can do better than that Mary,” Sherlock mock-admonishes as he finally gets a hand down to tickle her side. He has about a half a second to realize the tactical error in that phrasing, and then he finds himself suddenly pinned on his stomach with one hand up behind his back and the other trapped beneath her knee. Her free hand finds its way into his hair and then his neck is pulled back just hard enough for him to realize it could hurt if she wanted it to.

“You were saying?” She drawls, digging her nails into the skin of his wrist.

(Source: fightyourdragon)

Sunday Six

hedwig-dordt:

image

From WiP The Guardians of Beacon Hills 

Back in at Beacon Hills, Chris installs Melissa with the Saturday paper and a cup of tea at the kitchen table as he puts away the produce. Melissa catches herself thinking this feels disgustingly domestic: she left her shoes in the hall, and is on socks. The sense of quiet domesticity changes when Chris returns to the living room and gently starts rubbing her shoulders. She slumps over the table to allow him better access. After a few glorious moments, she gathers her courage.

“Wouldn’t this be easier on a bed?” she suggests.

Five chapters and counting.