she's a rebel; she's a saint

[angelgazing]

Thing teh first: New layout! With a banner by mah twin and the linkies all lines from Chrystal's kick-ass poetry. (Really, s'what it's called. See memories.)

Thing teh second: I know some genius ass people are on my f-list. I know it. That being said, HELP ME. I do not want to research and yet it seems I am going to be writing a fic set in teh ol' west. I need to know some things for this. Like... opium and rent boy are both British, right? What would the ol' west American versions of those be? (OMG because Charlie with his eyes wide and glazed over on his knees--)

Thing teh third: You, you who isn't reading this but who is totally to blame for the images in my head! I love you. lmao

Thing teh fourth: In celebration of my new layout and my great enjoyment of the friend-of number currently being hidden from you all and--and just because I am a fucking sheep [baaah] I cave, for finally and so:

1. Comment and I'll pick one or two of your lj interests and write you a drabble.
2. You have no say as to what I write for you or as to how much it will suck.
3. Copy this and the drabble that is written for you into your journal. (Optional)


You also have no promises that it'll be done soon or soon-ish or whatever. Or that it'll actually be drabble length. Yes, yes I do suck.

Comments

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

What, I'm only seven months behind.

Like This, He Smiled
James/Remus - wall!sex (well, I tried) - 100 words

At two thirty-five on Friday morning, after tossing and turning for a bloody week, Remus calms down. It hits him, at all once, like a shot Firewhisky in winter, when it hits his stomach and stops his shivering.

James laughs, mouth curving in a smile as his tongue wraps around Remus' fingertips one at a time, like he knows. In the empty, dusty, dark corner of a corridor no one uses, map-to-be parchment wrinkling in his fist, James laughs, and pushes Remus further into the stone wall behind him, like he can push him through it. And Remus is calm.