Hi guys! I’m running 5k for Cancer Research UK in the Race for Life in July. As a sofa-dweller, compulsive terrible-television-watcher, and lover of pasta, this will prove very difficult for me. Consequently, I thought I’d associate the experience with pleasant connotations, namely my love of fanfic! Summer breaks from uni tend to be a prosperous and bountiful fic-writing time, so why not mash the two together? If you donate £1 ($1.52) to my JustGiving page, I will write you a ficlet! So, while I’m running that torturous 5k, my head will be full of not only lovely stories, but all the amazing money fandom has contributed to such an amazing cause.

Just £1! Less than a coffee! A quarter of a pack of fags! It’s more expensive to buy broccoli from Asda! And for that £1, you get a ficlet, all of your own, based upon whatever prompts you like, written with love and gratitude, AS WELL AS the knowledge that you’re contributing to a cure for cancer.

A CURE FOR CANCER.

FIC CAN CURE CANCER.

Damn.

So please, drop me a £1 on http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/joanpassey and then have a look through my fanfic tag to see what I can do for you.

Fandom list:

• Avengers
• Hannibal
• Avenged Sevenfold
• Supernatural
• Harry Potter
• Glee
• Doctor Who
• BBC Sherlock
• Superwho

Bruce - and I can’t believe I’m even bothering to write this - is not a party person.

For a man named Bruce he’s peculiarly averse to macho chest beating and status reveling. For a guy who blows up into a ten foot tall bright green ball of muscle, rage and short-shorts, he’s really not an exhibitionist. His mind’s all full of wit and sarcasm and kindness and intelligence and ideas, and he has so much to contribute to polite society, yet he doesn’t. Keeps it all bottled up, mouth shut, head down. He knows how to mingle, how to schmooze and woo, theoretically, he just doesn’t care for it. He can’t risk the sips of champagne, the wafts of perfume, the bared shoulders and the big crowds. He treats himself like a suspicious looking package that shouldn’t be unaccompanied in public spaces, but this particularly package rates so damn high on the suspicio-metre that he’s not overly keen on being accompanied either, even by the most accomplished socialite of them all. 

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