Luna (LT, or January)-female \\ shy of 30 \\ New Yorker \\ writer in some fashion \\ multi-fandom
Other Tumblrs:
Neverending Romance (the official tumblr of the Pokémon shipping list). Because I have nothing else to do with my time.
Works in Progress (yes, that is what I called it officially). A primarily-Pokémon art dump blog, because run-off from the NeR tumblr (no rules, might even include nsfw someday).
Important links
- My livejournal
-My FFN account
-My AO3 account
-My gif and image collection (password: indigo; password is only there so they don't flood the tags when they're tagged)
- My likes.
- All deh muzak, muhn
![[x]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mausz7xQpt1r5w2rxo1_500.jpg)
![[x]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8v641HF0A1r5w2rxo1_500.png)
☆ #Honorshipping ☆ #matsuhaya ☆ #falkner ☆ #morty ☆ #matsuba ☆ #bl ☆ #pokemon
Fetch.
![[x] - you really want to click this
I’m not kidding](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7j40tQZxd1r5w2rxo1_500.png)
Lemme touch you!
New Year’s Absolution
Title: New Year’s Absolution
Fandom: Pokémon
- Characters: Morty, Falkner (Honorshipping)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s one year later. What did Morty accomplish?
Notes: Second in the New Years’ set. Since NYR’s own rewrite hasn’t been completed at this point, you’ll note this story makes allusions to events that are going to happen in it. And it only took two years to complete.
The snow never took as well in Cianwood as it did for the inland towns. The winds off the Whirl Pool Islands kept the snow on the sand to a faint dusting, hardly ever more than two inches under heavy precipitation and always quick to melt. Celadon City would have the better conditions for it, surrounded on all sides by the wood of the Oddish, and the Gym itself isolated from the rest of the town, the wind stifled by the evening, leaving a delicate silence easily perverted by those not of its realm.
They should have been in Celadon this year. Except Celadon was miles away with mountains between, where a festival was currently being alighted with funny stories and music and smells of sugared berry cakes and above all, Morty believed, chatty ladies with nothing better to do then spin fables. Cissy would be there this time, already long informed on what happened last year, if Whitney had anything to do with it. In fact, Cissy probably found out two mornings later, since Whitney would have likely called the first day of the new year, and Cissy would have told her, as politely as possible, to buzz off, I have a hangover, don’t talk.
Cissy was a holiday drinker. An over-indulgent one at that.
Which gave him one of the better reasons to not go this year: if anyone could make a loud (yet nothing short of embarrassingly jovial) spectacle, it would be Cissy. And she would be there this year. And he wouldn’t allow her near him, not when he finally had this precious creature all to himself. Morty was not about to share this without fully getting his own fill, because the effort he had put in would make an artist weep in appreciation.
