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jack_and_ellis has been updated! Chapter 24 is short-ish but complete, and you can find the new segment here. Jack gripes, Clare mothers, and Ellis is in danger.

I appreciate the patience everyone has had with me in writing this, because I know I haven't worked on my HP fic in months and lately I have been writing, just in a different fandom (see below). Especially those who have "tipped" for J&E and who (in my eyes anyway) may not be fully getting their money's worth just now. Just as for Ellis, Australia is an unmapped portion of the story for me; I'm only one step ahead of where I'm writing, and I've been turning over in my head the events that should be happening in the next few chapters ever since I started work in November.

I keep telling myself that once the cast comes off I'll be able to work harder, and that's true in a sense, but it also feels like lying to myself.

Then I think about the fact that I've totally retrained my right hand to make up for the failures in my left (right index instead of left thumb now spacebars, for example), and I think, well, maybe it's not so much a lie.

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Holy shit, R cleaned his room.

R and I divvied up the flat pretty instinctively and without much discussion when I moved in; the living room is his except for the sofa, and as long as we can see the floor I don't mind the debris on the coffee table or the piano. The kitchen counter is my workspace, as is the kitchen most of the time, and we have separate bathrooms so that's never an issue. My room is mine and his is his but we're in and out of each others' to steal music or DVDs or whatnot. I keep mine as clean as I can, given how much I store there, but R's room has been a pit ever since I've lived here. It's his place to make a mess, but it finally reached the point where literally one could not walk through the room without walking on...things. I tripped on a box of firelogs last time I was in there, and caught myself on a five-foot pile of clothing.

Ew.

But some girl he's not even dating, god bless her, finally got him to clean his room. It looks HUGE in there now. I don't know where he put everything that was in there. Possibly there's an alternate universe in his closet from whence it came to begin with and he shoved it back in there, I don't know. We'll see how long it lasts, and I need to find this girl and send her flowers.

He and I are in today, watching Eddie Izzard on BBC America, reading, and waiting for groceries. Because when the groceries arrive...I am making the bacon cookies. YES I AM.

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So.

Bacon cookies.

I put less than the proper amount of flour in and the dough was still far too dry; they didn't brown, but they still cooked reasonably well. I didn't bother with the glaze.

R is brave and eternally hungry, and sampled the cookies with me. We both sort of looked at each other when we each took a bite. They're completely indescribable. The bacon taste is definitely present, but it mingles with the sweet of the chocolate and the almond extract; it's like eating it with waffles and maple syrup, really. Except not. Because, chocolate...

Anyway. It's tasty and an interesting novelty, but it's not particularly special. I can think of better uses for bacon. :D Still, it's not gut-wrenchingly bad or anything. And R seems to like them -- but then R thinks there isn't enough fake cheese powder in boxes of macaroni and cheese, so I'm not sure how much to trust his tastes.