This work could have adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
22 Dec 2009
You are about to read "If on a Yuletide morn a slasher," an If on a winter's night a traveler fic written by an anonymous author. You'll want to make sure you're reading this a suitable distance from your computer screen, in a well-lit room, with the contrast and brightness of your screen properly adjusted. Or else you might want to print it out and read the hard copy.
Ludmilla is logged onto her laptop, across the room from you, re-reading for the thirtieth time the Karl Marx/Friedrich Engels BDSM fic some poor soul ended up having to write for her. She still can't stop chuckling, no matter how much she tries to surpress it.
"Hush," you tell her, because you're really interested in the Calvino fic. The fact that there exists If on a winter's night a traveler fic in the archive is pretty darn awesome by itself, you think, and you really want to find out what, exactly, the anonymous author decided to do with it.
Ludmilla sticks her tongue out at you, which is more or less the reaction you expected.
The cursor hovers over the link and you sloppily strike the touchpad with your finger, summoning the fic to you from its sleeping place somewhere deep in the inner workings of the AO3.