I released it into the wild here.

Michael deals with a lot. Sometimes too much. Sometimes he needs Sam to drag him back.
Set at the end of 2x10 Do No Harm, after Michael gives the cash to Kenny.

A rare unbeta’d fic, because the intersection between my usual suspects and a small fandom for a show that ended a decade ago is zero. This one’s pure, unfiltered me. If you spot an escaped typo, please let me know and I'll grab it and lock it in a shipping container.

What the hell even is this? It's not sexual, it's barely even slashy. Apparently I do sappy devotion via BDSM now??

My fanfic for the Murder Husbands Big Bang 2020 is finally live! Thank you to DreamerInSilico for the beta.

A Thousand Truths Hannibal wants to know why Will testified as he did at Hannibal’s trial. Will has many different answers. Red Dragon Arc and beyond…

8600 words, explicit

And thank you, of course, to the collaborative artist for my story, Nin Potato.



Nin's tumblr art post is here, so hop over there if you want to tell her how much you like her work directly :-)

So that Gundam Wing fic I started back in (checks) 2003 and then abandoned when I got distracted by shiny new fandoms - it’s gone from 14,000 words to 21,500 in the last two weeks. It seems there’s a reason I keep hold of every WIP and idea that never made it, religiously transferring them across hard drives each time I get a new machine.


“Sleep okay?” I asked. There was a hell of a lot more I wanted to know, but it seemed the safe place to start.

“Yeah.” Heero was gonna say that either way, but he did look better. He still needed a shower, and maybe a shave (though to be honest, the stubble kinda worked for him), and to fix some shit with his hair, but he looked like a guy who’d just dragged his ass out of bed and less like a ghost.

“You have bad taste in coffee,” he said, frowning at the packet, but he spooned it into the machine anyways.

“Well, sure, I’m an L2 brat,” I said, flashing a grin. “Not likely I’d be drinking the same stuff as Relena’s people, huh?”

Yeah, I dropped her name to see what reaction I’d get. Course I did.


And no, I was never going to be able to keep Duo Maxwell to only six sentences!

I've just realised that since I posted my last fic in a hurry before I shot out of town, I forgot to mention it here. Oversight!

Bad Connections. Hannigram, 5K words, set between Yakimono and Su-zakana.

Written for a porn trope challenge, for the prompt: “I’m fixing your *insert appliance/furniture/house thing here* for you and now I’m sweaty and half naked and you’re drooling” sex.

Writing fanfic has always been a disjointed process for me. I have no concept of how some people can start at the beginning and write through to the end. I write scenes in the order they solidify in my head, piecing the whole lot together bit by bit as more of the gaps fill themselves in. And through all the fandoms I wrote in for so many years, there was a pretty clear pattern that the hardest sections to write, and thus the last to get written, were the action scenes and the smut.

Except for the Hannibal fandom. The action-heavy sequences still get written last, and they're definitely perspiration, not inspiration. But apparently with these two guys I'm all about the porn. The sex just writes itself effortlessly, and it keeps on writing, until some kissing and 69-ing grows to over four thousand words. Worse than that, I'm even writing sex scenes for scenarios I'm never going to actually put in a fic, because they camp there in my head, and I can't get back to writing the plot for my WIP until I've got them out of my brain.

I've been trying to figure out why this is, and I think it's because these two guys are almost never just having sex. One or both of them always has an agenda, an ulterior motive that goes beyond an enjoyable orgasm, and sometimes it's successful and sometimes it's not, but they never stop digging in one another's brains. It's practically a compulsion for them to poke at each other and see what happens. Even when you've got them shacked up together in domestic bliss with too many dogs, they don't stop playing games. Maybe they would after five years or so when they've finally run out of corners to dig in, but it's interesting to play with the ideas inbetween!

In a fit of total self-indulgence, I added an unplanned and very belated third chapter to The Depths of Trust and doubled the length of the entire thing. My brain was having way too much fun playing with these two guys trying to figure their way around each other. Because after years of mutual obsession and emotional and physical damage, deciding to stop all of that and fuck like bunnies doesn’t automatically mean they can have an actual relationship…

And now I can get back to writing part five of this series, which was what I started doing before my brain took off at a tangent.

Hannibal POV, creep factor rising.

The Lingering Past at AO3.

Third fic in the De Profundus series.

This is just a short one, filling in a time gap between where the second one left off, and where the next couple are going. When I started writing Hannibal fic, I told myself I wouldn't write Hannibal POV, but he crept into my head anyway. He does that a lot. I think I need to scrub my brain out now.

So here it is - 32k words of porn-free moping with Will Graham. Apparently this is what drags me out of a seven year fanfic writing hiatus, who knew? Spoilers for the entire series.

Here it is at AO3.

I think I'll need to take a couple of weeeks for RL stuff before I dive back into the first of the sequels. Between finishing the video and this, I have literally done nothing else with my free time in the last three weeks. I probably should...

I'm sitting here this morning, working on finishing my Hannibal fanfic, slowly filling in the gaps between the chunks that are already written to make it one whole thing. Then a conversation for the sequel fic pops into my head, the one I'm scribbling down bits of as they ambush me, because that's what stories do. And as I'm writing that, I suddenly realise I know what the third fic has to be.

And I'm sitting here thinking, 'Am I really going to write this, and eroticise it?' And yes, yes, I probably am.