Bottles of wine, covered with dew, and otters

I've been sitting on this for a couple of days, but I can sit no more: If there is purpler prose than this, I don't want to know about it. Includes fanart and a dramatic reading.

ETA: In defense of Silk and Steel. In other words, an intentional burst of badfic?

Just so you know

The kind of things I post on Twitter:

cleolinda OW MIGRAINE. And tons of weird-ass dreams last night.

cleolinda Had a dream where I pulled Catwoman/Sienna Miller down off a domed ceiling with a grappling hook. Clive Owen complimented me on my spycraft.

cleolinda The password was "Ouvios." Mulder and Scully may have also been there, I'm not sure.

cleolinda Had another dream where I was a deputy of some sort trying to stop a madman from blowing something up/spreading a plague.

cleolinda Heroically I succeeded--the clue was, "The antidote is where the fluids are." We all searched the waterfront, then I had the brilliant idea

cleolinda to search the cleaning supply cabinet. My imaginary dream doctor husband was very proud of me. He was guarding the lepers.

Ho hum

A bit blah today, but not too terribly depressed. I guess that's improvement?

( Linkspam )

And now, to finish work on something else.