delicatale

Well well! This was a struggle and went through many changes. stjarna1984, sirona_gs and tailoredshirt gave me the most precious help, and more.

Steve is Angel, part of an Army. PG-13 for a little bit of violence here and there. I do not intend to offend anyone.

( A fight I refuse to lose; PG-13; ~2500 words )

This morning has been spent driving Danny crazy, while Steve plunders zombies with a tennis racket, a timing belt and a cocktail molotov. Danny enjoys the golf club, I think I'll leave him with it for a while longer. Steve has also asked Danny to look out for oranges and soap, to make possible explosives, and I have compared the head of a zombie flying off to a poptart jumping out of a toaster. Steve does not understand why Danny is so angry, and he's having way too much fun for his own sanity.

This zombiebang fic is ridiculous, seriously.

2238 / 5000 words. 45% done!

I'm hoping to reach 2500 before I dig into The Fic That Shall Not Be Named, when tailoredshirt shows up.

I think it might be the first time where I have the title of a fic 200 words into it. I am still navigating a little blind here, and it seems my Muse has decided to start with one of these 'the first scene is the last' that I'm not sure I like, but hopefully it will turn into something that makes sense at some point. It might not be a plotty story, just Steve drifting from depression and pain to rediscovering life. I don't know yet.

I couldn't sleep last night, I was writing this in my head. There are some things I'm still trying to work out, but I have some parts of it blindingly clear in my head because I was just going over them over and over in my head last night as I was trying to fall asleep and failed miserably. There was one thing that I couldn't decide on - and that was how do Steve and Danny meet in this, but I think I have found something that can work out. The first idea I had would have ended in a completely different story that I'm pretty sure I don't want to tell.

And then I left the Fort (with 3 hours in sleep in me and no time for a coffee) this morning and realised that my iPod deleted all the music I had on it during yesterday's backup, besides the last two albums I bought - one of them is a single. The latest album I bought is Joshua Radin's The Rock And The Tide and well, it's surprisingly appropriate for the writing of this, mellow, easy, with lyrics that stick to me in the good way. I've liked Joshua Radin for a long time but lately I've not found the need to listen to this kind of music (I associate the likes of Death Cab For Cutie and Jack Johnson to the same style), but I think it can fit to the rhythm I want to give this.

Um. Welcome to my first rambling about a fine mingling of letting go and holding on. I'm sure it won't be the last one, but feel free to tell me to shut up.