Sunday is for procrastination
I have managed to get dressed though. This should be celebrated with a meme, as seen on
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• Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.
• Upon request, post a random line or two from any of these you choose.
Oh god, this was a thoroughly depressing exercise. I’m pretty sure some of these will never be finished... However, feel free to ask for extracts or any questions about them...
acceptance.docx
adam-tommy breathplay.docx
alex-ryland mr floppy.doc
Almost Always.doc
Almost Never.doc
And Sometimes You Cross It Twice.doc
Bandom airlines.doc
BR - continuation.docx
Care In Holding.doc
Cobra GSF.doc
craig-bruno oh god my morals – part trois.docx
dex-sheppard.docx
fairydust.doc
fruitsalad.doc
george is a rentboy, mitchell is not amused.docx
Happy Birthday pushkin666.doc (for the record, I’m deeply ashamed that this is still on the wip list /o\)
In which Rodney and Radek are witches.doc
it’s not a story, we just made it (up and away).doc
j2.doc
Lost Boys fic.doc
mcbeckfic-picexchange.doc
Nate-Victoria puppyplay.docx
no heaven.docx
no oceans left for scavengers like me.docx
otr fic.doc
Patrick-Pete wrist kink ficlet.doc
Primeval ficlet.doc
sa-drabbles.doc
Taste of maybe - the missing sex scene.doc
The Hour I First Believed.doc
the one where alex and ryland roast gabe.doc
To Cast A Hundred Stones .doc
Totum tibi subdo me.doc
untitled House.doc
Year Abroad.doc
Velvet Revolution.doc
waycest ficlet for laura.docx
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The entrance was hidden away in the alley behind a general store. There was no sign, just a badly flickering bulb and a grimy metallic number above the doorway.
“Lucky number 7,” Marko giggled.
Michael hunched further into his jacket. “Why are we here?”
“Dance, drink, and be merry. Emphasis on the… Well. You know.” Marko winked, slowly and with great exaggeration, and Michael felt an answering grin spread across his face, because yeah, fuck, it was funny.
A guy the size of a barn stepped out of the shadows without a warning and regarded them silently.
Michael breathed in slowly, going to the balls of his feet. The adrenaline flooding his body was hot and familiar but whereas before it would have told him to flee, now everything inside him was screaming for a fight.
The bouncer didn’t seem inclined to give him one. He waved them in, arms bulging obscenely under the tight tee.
“Down the rabbit hole, Mikey-boy!”
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Michael was led by his dick. Like all teenage boys.
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