fansee

In which Marc and Adrian have visitors...ones with six legs:

( Chapter 5 )

In which Marc sees a blonde....

( Chapter 4 )

In which Adrian and Marc have a discussion about a purchase....

( Chapter 3 )

In which it is Marc's turn to get an eyeful...

( Chapter 2 )

During the wonderful Clusterf*ck Challenge, I promised myself I would post chering's and my fics here. It's taken a while - summer, you know, and vacations and other fun things - but I'm finally getting started.

I decided to start with 10 Tremont. Over a year ago, chering wondered, What would it have been like to be a neighbor of Brian's? Someone who could see into those windows and catch glimpses of what was going on over there from day one. Someone who didn't get to see what he did outside of the loft but got to see a lot more of it inside?

The result was a ten chapter fic. G*d willing and the creeks don't rise, I'll be posting a chapter a day for the next ten days. I hope you enjoy them because, when I'm done, I'll have five new chapters to post. FanSee

( Welcome to Ten Tremont... )

A very
Happy Birthday
to a partner in crime:
testdog65.

Best wishes for everything good on your day.

♥ ♥ ♥

Hasn't it been wonderful? Didn't xie_xie_xie have a brilliant idea?

I'd just like to remind all the participants to check for comments on LJ, too. Since I am most active on LJ, I'm reading, looking, and commenting there, and, no, I haven't gotten to all the entries yet. I'm about half done. 100 entries is a lot of entries, and I want to give every single entry its due. FanSee

P.S. I swear to G*d, hope to die, with a needle in my eye, I'm going to be more active here. You are warned.

This fic was written for the Small Things Made Large Challenge. It's a little different from most of my fics, so I hope you like it. (If you don't, well, it's short, anyway.)

Title: His Own Brand of Broken
Author: fansee
Drabble: 23
Notes: I want to thank zaipixie for a drabble that grabbed me and wouldn't let go and my always-excellent beta, chering.

( His Own Brand of Broken )

The following fic was written as part of the Small Things Made Large Challenge. Huge thanks to xie_xie_xie for providing a forum and a format that encouraged me to write.

Title: Hap
Author: fansee
Drabble: #28 by hounded
Notes: A post-513 AU. Heartfelt thank yous to hounded whose drabble touched my heart and to my beta, chering.

( Hap )

The following fic was written as part of the Small Things Made Large Challenge. Huge thanks to xie_xie_xie for providing a forum and a format that encouraged me to write.

Title: Across the Sands
Author: fansee
Drabble: #29 by dirtylttlescret
Notes: An AU. Heartfelt thank yous to dirtylttlescret for her provocative drabble and to LJ's chering who worked her magic before this was posted.

( Across the Sands )

VOTE!

Whoever you support, today is a watershed election. You owe it to yourself to be a part of it.

I'm voting, then I'm working for the campaign. At the end of today, I'll know I did as much as I could...and more than I should have, according to the 15-year-old. (I know she doesn't really mean it. She just loves to complain.) See ya! FanSee

For the qaf_giftxchnge, not_yet_defined asked for an AU set in seasons 1 through 3. This is what chering and I came up with.

( Snapshots )

If you haven't looked at all the great graphics and vids at qaf_giftxchnge and read all the fics, you can find them here.

It occurred to me that if I didn't post anything here, on IJ, I might get tagged as some kind of deadwood, and no one would want to Friend me and I'd miss out on great fics. So....

I wrote half of the following double drabble as a gift for brianslave68 in the qaf_giftxchge. I kept coming back to it, however, and worrying at it, because it felt incomplete. I think it's O.K. now.

brianslave68, this is still for you.

Title: Absence

Genre: Double Drabble

Socks left on the floor. A shirt draped over the back of the couch. A book, open in the middle, face down on my expensive coffee table. A sketch, half-finished, left on the kitchen counter. His voice on the phone, distracting me while I tried to find the right words for a radio ad. Waking up half-smothered by his body sprawled over me. Sometimes I missed those things more than I missed his teeth nipping my tit, his eager mouth on my dick, or his soft hair between my fingers as my dick pounded into his ass. Sometimes I didn’t.

A soft voice saying pretty words. A rose and chocolates. The sound of a solo violin, playing in the chill street air. Laughing with friends in a coffee house. Fucking on the rooftop, under a starry ceiling. I have what I want, all day, every day. Then I sleep, and in my sleep my legs tangle with longer legs, and a baritone voice tells me to turn over. A large hand covers my dick, and clever fingers pull and press and slide. I struggle toward wakefulness, my dick weeping. Sometimes I turn to my bedmate for solace. Sometimes I don’t.