nineveh_uk

I often finish a fic and wait until the next morning to post it. This is partly so I can read comments during the working day, but also so that I have the opportunity to spot anything wrong and correct it before posting. Fortunately I am still in the semi-hysterical state that is synonymous with the end of the ninth week of term and that allowed me to write this last night, or I would be looking at this fic by the cold light of day and acknowledging that the wrongness is inherent and can’t be cut out, and resolving never to look at it again.

Continuing to defy Disraeli, this is, as ever, not my fault. Yes, I seem to have started and finished the evil AU while half-way through the proper fic, but clanwilliam made me do it. I mean, if you go around posting comments like the following, apropos of various questions on LJ britpicking comms, what do you think is going to happen?

Well, if your uncle actually took a proper pride in his duties, he'd have taken you off to a brothel in Paris where you could be non-consensually buggered with a strap-on.

I cannot stress strongly enough that this is not my personal canon. And I am a little sceptical about the whole Edward VII sex chair business, but this is a picture, if you want to know what Peter’s tied too… Sorry about the Daily Mail, they had the best photograph.

With all due apologies to Roger McGough, I present:

( The Lesson )

The office is decidedly chilly, so I had a quick look for thermals at Marks and Spencer, notwithstanding that I am not allowed to spend any money until the end of the month, and by that I mean November, and have plenty in my wardrobe anyway, at least until the January sales.

Still, I can’t help thinking that the list of literary influences on M&S women’s clothing this season has just grown a little longer. In addition to Barrayar and Ruritania, I think we have to add Harriet role-playing Bunter. There’s got to be some reason for them to be calling a pair of grey combinations a "playsuit".