fufaraw

one, or maybe two steps back. Word count is not mounting very fast, but then I'm converting notes and sketched scenes to actual story, and figuring out where said scenes fit along the timeline, so there's a lot of deleting going on while the actual words are increasing. Hopefully, both elements come out correctly by the deadline. I am now accepting all good wishes and incentives. Including chocolate.

"No, no, Bert, listen to me. With words like licorice and lace, the letter L lights up your face. So why not la la la la la...with meeeee."


The lovely epiphyta gave me the letter L for the six things meme. Which I will think about as I go run errands, and come back and answer when I'm done.

Something I hate: Liars. You can spin a story, you can embellish, you can tangentalize, especially if you let me in on the joke. But don't lie to my face.
Something I love: Lace. Not necessarily to wear, but just as an object to examine, figure out how it was done, and appreciate the ability and the artistry.
Somewhere I've been: Leavenworth. No, not there, but the kitschy little town high in a pass in the Cascades, which has been painted and decorated to resemble a Tyrolean village.
Somewhere I'd like to go: London! So many novels, of so many periods--I want to search for all those locations, as well as the truly historical ones. The museums, the palaces--everywhere!
Someone I know: Laura, Lee, Lucy. There used to be Lindas, but we lost touch.
A film I liked: Last of the Mohicans, Lilo and Stitch, the Long Kiss Goodnight, the Last Samurai, Live Free or Die Hard, Lord of the Rings trilogy, Lords of Dogtown, the Losers, Love, Actually, Love Song for Bobby Long (sue me), Legends of the Fall.

If you'd like a letter meanwhile, just ask.

When you see this, share random lines from 3 WIPs

"Home," he demanded, not breaking the molten gaze he shared with Jared. "Now." Jared moved to hold him, kiss him, and Jensen danced out of reach. "I want our bed, and clean sheets, and the moon through the window. I want to suck you and fuck you until you won't want to move before morning, if then."

Jared reached again, but Jensen kept away. "You want to sleep out here on the rocks and sand, Jared? Wake up naked for the gulls and the passing tourists to see, huh? Or we go home, I take you apart and put you back together, and bring you breakfast in bed?"

"You suck, Ackles," Jared pouted, and Jensen's grin spread all over his face.

"You betcha," he answered. "That's a promise."

*  *  *

"This child," he told them, holding eye contact with each one. "Is the property of its father. If it's an alpha, it'll be taken at five to the alpha school to learn how to compete with and understand other alphas. It will be returned to the household at twelve, to be schooled in the family's business and relationships with other houses. It will learn respect for the usefulness of betas. It will learn the value of family omegas."

He didn't allow their stunned expressions to halt their education. "If it's beta, it will be sent at seven to beta school, where it will remain through secondary education, and the college it shows aptitude for. At the end of its schooling it will be assigned a place in the function of the family's business and public interests, its availability for marriage will be made public, and suitors accepted. Alliances will be forged, or strengthened, by marriage to a beta or an alpha from another house."

"If it's omega, it will go at age four to omega school, where it will be trained for service, for compliance, for creating beauty, for the arts, both household and esoteric. It will become a decorative, valuable ornament to give ease and pleasure to an alpha, and will bring much revenue to the family from the purchase price set by the head of household, or much good will and increased reputation by being awarded to the alpha who earns such reward by service or favor to the house."

He waited till that sank in. "This will not be your grandchild. It won't come to spend summers at the pool, playing with the dogs in the back yard, and making cookies in the kitchen."

*  *  *

The backpack landed with excessive force on the countertop.

"Trey Rogers is an enormous jerk!"

Jensen merely watched, toweling his hands dry as Jared raided the fridge for apples and a slab of last night's ham. He demolished half an apple with one bite and chomped furiously, wiping the juice from his lips with the back of one wrist. He started to slam the fridge door, but caught Jensen's eye, and closed it more gently, sparing the cereal boxes on top from tumbling to the floor.

2767 wc to go, guys. Send me woooorrrrds.