|Sejour Avec Moi|
Author has written 8 stories for Yu-Gi-Oh GX, Yu-Gi-Oh, Soul Eater, and Fullmetal Alchemist.
I am a REALLY slow updater, as in, I lose interest in things and don't update. I don't bite though, so message me, whether to prod me along, or just to say hey.
Consult my fave's list, it's kinda bitchin' and is the result of eleventymillion years of reading.
I'm 18 and I am "studying" at uni in France. "Studying" usually entails being a wino and having sex and being a general nuisance/English-speaking bigot to the poor Parisian public. I would like to write epic sci-fi and hard fantasy novels, but am, for some odd reason, studying to be a museum curator. I guess that's kind of cool too.
My favourite word is gusamkuntswerk and I think both knee socks and sundresses are incredibly underrated. I am also mildly phobic of wet asphalt and own a pet rat.
I am a big fan of hair extensions, lazing about, high heeled shoes, old school video games, cigarette smoke, poetry, dark humour and cuddles with friends, among other things.
Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
Chapter one posted for the giant yaoi epic of TPU, The Prometheuses Unbound (SpiritxStein, and vice versa) The legit LJ version, with pictures, texts, cuts, photos, proper email format, and etc, is to be foundand will be better archived when I give a super-shit.
Teaser from TPU 1: fencheltee and borders
“I’m Spirit,” he introduces himself, and turns his smile on more. Franken studies his hands, eyes moving along the folds, the creases, taking in the dirt under Spirit’s masticated nails, maybe. Allowing his gaze to lift, he takes another sip of his coffee before shifting aside the book to shake Spirit’s hand. Spirit can now see the embossed title on the spine, but still can’t understand it or even fathom why the Franken is reading it: Προμηθεύς Δεσμώτης.
Chapter one posted for Dystychiphobia (RoyEd, homonculus!Ed). I will haggle a friend to draw a pretty picture I had in mind.
Teaser from D-phobia: Every Living Creature-- RED
Roy is a broken man, his hair jet black and wet, clinging to his forehead, some of it curling into little upside down question marks. He wonders if it really would have been better if he had come back and found it almost like Ed had never been here, like he had never been alive.
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