Love in Times of Egg Salad
I have taken up my pen again and dedicated a story to two FT characters I've grown to love as dearly as Hawk and Tim.
How did Marcus and Frankie meet? Is Marcus the strong, level-headed man he pictures himself to be?
He's none of this in my latest FT fic! Luckily, Hawk and Lucy are all too willing to help him get the lady of his dreams!
Wanna laugh? Then click on the link below and read, especially if you want some Hawk and Skippy fluff as a bonus...
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Happy Easter with Hawk and Skippy!
For all you FT lovers and AO3 aficionados, get ready for a real treat! Read all about McCarthy's stupid plan to improve his image and the involvement from our favourite couple...Lots of nonsense, fluff, dirt and bad karma for Tail Gunner Joe.
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'Maurice' meets 'Fellow Travelers'!
As a regular contributor to AO3 I have now come up with a fusion of these two popular fandoms. In 1953, secret agent Maurice Hall is called back from retirement and sent across the Atlantic to perform a task in Her Majesty's service. He meets an attractive, thirty-something American who might or might not be able to provide him with politically hot evidence...
In the background Clive Durham, Alec Scudder and Tim Laughlin are battling their own problems. Erotic chaos ensues, and what will happen after that? Read and find out!
Get ready for some prime espionage (James Bond happens to be unavailable), sweetness, and Frankie's cheeky attitude!
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FT with a very Different Plot
I just finished my latest FT fic, and it is quite unlike the ones I've come up with until now.
Both Hawk and Skippy are questioned by the M Unit, triggering a string of events that will change their lives forever. Be welcome to read my story that depicts the depth of human vice and despair. But happiness is found anew, because life has its wonderful surprises.
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After many hours of tireless work, it’s finally complete…
Being so true and honest rn, I don’t usually do very realistic drawings, so the fact this turned out so well is kinda epic sauce ??
I was originally planning a Hawk drawing but couldn’t find a reference I like, I’m open to suggestions tho
Trust a Hawk drawing WILL happen
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The Congressman and the Sea
After cluttering up AO3 with fics on #maurice, #call me by your name and #and then we danced I have now launched my first Fellow Travelers fic. Click on the link below and learn about Hawk's life after his divorce from Lucy and the memories that haunt him.
Here are some tidbits to tickle your tastebuds. Let's face it, we all love Hawk (though not always) and dear, adorable Skippy.
(Chapter 1)
On another occasion I said: ‘I’ll serve at the State Department until they get me a position overseas, and when I’ve sat that out I’ll quit and remain in the country where I was sent so that I can eat and drink whatever I want and fuck whomever I want with no one interfering.’
‘Can I come too?’ he asked, his sweet brown eyes full of light. ‘Please?’
He was my junior by ten years, his hair was shiny and dark-brown and he had an elegant, noble nose and the whitest of teeth. No girl would ever deign to look at such a plain-looking creature, but I always saw beauty and extravagance where other humans didn’t.
I stroked his stubbled cheeks and kissed him. ‘No, dear, but of course you can come and visit. It’ll be fun.’
I’ll never forget the sad look he gave me then, the feel of his soft skin when he settled his head against my shoulder. My dear Skippy.
(Chapter 2)
The sand of Rehoboth Beach was so clean when Skippy and I had a stroll there. He had rolled up his pants and ran in and out of the surf uttering cries of delight. He picked up sea shells, stuffed them into his pockets and when he found a conch he held it to his ear.
‘Hello?’ he cried, drawing from his cigarette as if he were making a call at his office desk. ‘Is that you, Senator Hawk…What…? A weekend on your yacht in Acapulco…? Oh, that sounds swell…What, am I to bring my missus too? Now listen, Senator, I’ll leave her at home and then I’ll be all yours…Put your wife ashore in San Diego, will you? She won’t want for anything there, the place is full of muscular sailors and…Hello…? Senator, don’t hang up on me, please, faith and begorrah, aren’t you the fair prince awaiting me beyond the green hills of County Kerry…? Damn it, the line just went dead!’
He flung the conch into the sea while I stood there shaking with laughter. He was full of light and air, so beautiful, so young, and my fingers trembled when I snapped pictures of him.
(Chapter 3)
The apartment on Nineteenth Street had large windows granting a breath-taking view of the Constitution Gardens. I spent many nights there claiming to Lucy that I was often too busy to commute all the way home or whenever I was out late anyway attending parties or dinners.
There was a large double mattress on the living room floor. The refrigerator and the gas stove in the kitchen still worked. The telephone had long been disconnected.
Tim gasped with joy when he entered the place for the first time. He loved the romantic, dark wallpaper and the teak floors. ‘I want to live here!’ he cried, which made us both laugh.
He soon turned the somber apartment into a home, dragging in bunches of flowers and putting them in Auntie’s crystal vases and spraying lavender or verbena scent onto the musty blankets.
We found a gramophone and some old records in a closet, and so we had music when we sat on the floor talking, smoking and sipping bourbon.
And, good God, his years of training as a boy scout and a soldier had made him into a chef. He fried steaks, sautéed potatoes in olive oil and garlic and whipped up the most extravagant salad dressings with fresh herbs, Dijon mustard and many things more. I provided the wine.
We dined on the floor using an old curtain for a tablecloth. The ceiling lights still worked, but he would never turn them on, also because he understood that no one should see from outside that this place was frequently used. He stuffed candles into empty bottles and lit them.
We were a couple in love, feeding one another tidbits and kissing every minute, with me pumping wine from my mouth into his and receiving dollops of chewed potato or haricots verts in return.
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I love how @batri-jopa can use every register, from romantic and erotic to comical! After El Sopo, Mexikhinkali and Mr. Beerakli, we now have Iradracula...Luv it!
Iradracula
Short comic strip about sad and hungry vampire but with a happy ending (as indicated by a triumphant little blood splashing below)
Jeez, ain't that sick🙈🙉🙊 To make such an irresponsible stupid joke out of THIS particular scene!?! Normal ATWD fans do forgive me! Though I can not be blamed for what my brain produces, can I? And of course it's all @morulezopelforever 's fault again!
You don't want silly fanarts - don't feed my brain with stupid ideas in the first place!!! (Or... do, actually? At least I have something to interact with🙃)
On the other hand: since Levan Akin directed Interview with the Vampire quite soon after And Then We Danced maybe this thing is not really that much out of place at all?🤔
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