Total Word War Goal:To be finished with HP/SM and RarePairs fics New Words Written:Um at this moment NONE >.> I've been having a lazy past three days Total Words So Far:Not even sure. 12k on one 1.2k on the other (approx) Projects Worked On: HP/SM and RarePairs If You Set Other Goals (get characters to hook up, find a way to work in some smut/angst/fluff, reach a certain plot point, whatever), Are You Progressing? I need less sex more emotion but all the sex, which I don't understand as I suck at writing the sex >.> Anything To Share (flailing, requests for butt-kicking, pep-talks, snippets, etc.)?
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Dunno,” he mutters like the mutinous teenager he is. “I just—fuck.”
“Please tell me we don’t have to have the sex talk, because frankly, I am not ready to give that sort of advice.” Teddy feels as uncomfortable as he is sure he looks.
“No, it’s just,” he trails off again. “You know—sometimes I don’t realise how lonely I am, you know?” Teddy does know. He knows rather well actually—he’s been lonely his whole life, and only on the rare occasion is that loneliness not trying to scratch under his skin and seep into his bones. Teddy’s the kind of person who can feel lonely in a room full of people.
“I understand,” he says and he wonders if Toby can tell he means it. The silence that drifts between them is charged and Teddy looks up, saying, “Tell me about her.”
“Who,” Toby looks around as if there is supposed to be some clue written in the air.
no subject
New Words Written:Um at this moment NONE >.> I've been having a lazy past three days
Total Words So Far:Not even sure. 12k on one 1.2k on the other (approx)
Projects Worked On: HP/SM and RarePairs
If You Set Other Goals (get characters to hook up, find a way to work in some smut/angst/fluff, reach a certain plot point, whatever), Are You Progressing? I need less sex more emotion but all the sex, which I don't understand as I suck at writing the sex >.>
Anything To Share (flailing, requests for butt-kicking, pep-talks, snippets, etc.)?
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Dunno,” he mutters like the mutinous teenager he is. “I just—fuck.”
“Please tell me we don’t have to have the sex talk, because frankly, I am not ready to give that sort of advice.” Teddy feels as uncomfortable as he is sure he looks.
“No, it’s just,” he trails off again. “You know—sometimes I don’t realise how lonely I am, you know?” Teddy does know. He knows rather well actually—he’s been lonely his whole life, and only on the rare occasion is that loneliness not trying to scratch under his skin and seep into his bones. Teddy’s the kind of person who can feel lonely in a room full of people.
“I understand,” he says and he wonders if Toby can tell he means it. The silence that drifts between them is charged and Teddy looks up, saying, “Tell me about her.”
“Who,” Toby looks around as if there is supposed to be some clue written in the air.
“Your mother.”