I've had a bunch of new folks following me in the past few days, howdy!
A few things: PLEASE do not follow this account if you are underage. I am an adult in my late 30s, most of the fic I write is explicit, I don't want to engage with people who aren't adults.
(many of y'all know this but in my non-fandom life I am a sex educator for teens/young adults and I value maintaining rock solid boundaries in this area!! Having this as an adults-only space is really important to me. This is also why I rarely talk about my own sex life on here.)
This is 100% a hankcon account, for the most part I'm not interested in other dbh pairings and I'm also...not a fan of the game itself to say the least
PLEASE do not be afraid to say hi even if we aren't mutuals, it's never personal! I love chatting but can be shy at times.
If you're interested in my fics I have a thread here with short descriptions and links to all of them, I've been around for a few years now and wow I've written a bunch of them!! nice! A general theme is cramming as many feelings as possible into porn
Relatedly: I know threading long fics is ridiculous and not very accessible...but it's the way I've found to write most consistently so I still do it, but I do always put finished fics on AO3 either in chapters or when they're done, so you aren't missing out if you wait for that.
Anyway hello! Here's a picture of Milly sleeping on her catnip pizza toy as a reward for reading this thread.
(OH the other important note for new folks is that I'm usually really good about updating threads regularly but this week I'm starting an ongoing fairly disruptive medical treatment and I have NO idea how it will impact my schedule so if things are spotty for a bit that's why)
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Hello, friends, I'm starting a new thread! π
I'm trying a couple new things with this one, which is both exciting and a little intimidating.
THIS time I know better than to say "oh this one will be real short" because we all know what happens when I say that at the beginning.
Tucked into a cramped room in the basement of the Detroit Police Department, sitting at a desk with a computer so old he can barely interface with it, Connor wonders when it was that he last felt the hope, the excitement the android revolution had stirred in him.
In the weeks
immediately following the cease-fire, Connor had been frightened, a great deal of the time, unsure of his future, but he'd been filled, too, with a kind of manic energy, his software unspooling multiple possibilities for constructive change whenever he had a free moment.
A Kiss Day thread! π
Hank's staring blankly at the book in his hands, wondering if he should just put it down and watch tv instead of pretending he's able to focus enough to make sense of the words, when he hears the rattle of Connor's key in the door.
"You're home earlier than
I expected," he says.
Connor greets him with a brittle, forced smile. "Things didn't go as planned, I'm afraid. He--I think the two of us had very different expectations for the evening."
"Are you okay?" Hank sets the book aside and gestures to the couch. "You want to talk
about it?"
"I don't know," Connor says. "On either count, I suppose." He sighs and stares at the floor, seemingly unwilling to meet Hank's gaze.
"I won't push," Hank scrambles to say. "If you need time alone, or if you just want to keep me company and not talk about anything at
πΈ[new thread, but this is the continuation of Lilacs in Bloom!]πΈ
Hank shifts into wakefulness slowly, as if surfacing from a deep dive in dark, cool water. He's aware of warmth and a weight on the mattress beside him, and wonders for a moment if Sumo had nosed the bedroom door
open and jumped on the bed in the early morning. But then the weight shifts beside him, and a hand settles on his back, rubbing slow circles over his shoulderblade.
"Connor?" Hank's mind is fuzzy, still heavy with sleep, but he instinctually leans into the touch. "Is it morning
already?"
"As much as I'd like to stay in bed with you," Connor murmurs, "I do need to get to work. I can still take a taxi home, if you'd rather sleep in a bit more."
Hank would much rather sleep, truth be told, but he isn't going to send Connor home in a cab. "Come here," he
Now seems like a nice time to reflect on what I've written this past year! β¨ (I could pretend I'm going to do a one answer per like thing but I will most likely just answer as I have free time today no matter how many likes I get!!!)
1) I'm always drawn to romance where I can mix some big feelings and introspective moments with sex...hot-n-sweet isn't just a delicious wing sauce, it's my general writing philosophy
2) this is tough because writing felt harder than normal this year due to Life Stuff but probably a wild rose carved in stone was the toughest because it was not at all the type of fic I usually write! My first time digging into Hank's grief over Cole in a substantial way.
Wish me luck friends, while cleaning the shower yesterday and scrubbing at a mildewy area of the caulk I broke the caulk entirely so now I gotta run out and buy more caulk/strip the old shit out/clean under it/dry and re-caulk the shower today so we can take showers tomorrow
Fun fact: in the last place I lived we had two bathrooms, and we showered in the basement for something like six months to put off recaulking the main shower because neither of us knew how to do it and we were anxious about messing up...with one bathroom I just gotta do it
In that case the caulk developed a tiny hole that made water shoot out as if from a squirt gun onto the wall by the shower and I found this out by touching the wall while Enne was showering and having it squish under my hand π
Hank does his best to focus on the story, not on how it feels to have Connor leaning against him like he's drawing comfort from it. Not on how much he wants to turn and press a kiss to the crown of his head. "Daniel, was he the android?"
"He was their housekeeper," Connor says
gaze distant and unfocused as he stares out over the water. "He took care of Emma, every day. Helped her with her homework. Played any game she wanted. He--"
Connor shakes his head and grips the railing, falling silent for a moment.
"He loved her," he says, bitterly. "And it
didn't count for anything when a newer model came out. I investigated the apartment when I arrived, before I spoke to Daniel, and what every piece of evidence told me, what was so clear when I saw what his life had been like with that family, was that he'd loved Emma. She called