"Well, This Might Be Enough To Finally Get Your Fucking Attention."

"Well, this might be enough to finally get your fucking attention."

"Wha--??" was the closest I could get to a sentence as I stared, slack-jawed at the sight before me. Anya smirked, sloshing the bathwater further, and my eyes widened further, in tandem with her expanding breasts...

When I left Halima, I wasn't sure what to do. A marriage of a whole year up in smoke. The lies had hurt, one after the other, but more still seeming lack of regard for my feelings. She'd got what she wanted, she told me, and now she was moving on.

Late one night, a few months later, in my crappy motel, my resolve broke, and I unblocked her on social media. It seemed she had meant it... she was on holiday right now with a man... For some reason, it hurt more that it wasn't another woman. The look in her eyes behind those long lashes seemed to mock me. The guy was tall and chiseled, and his hand in her bikini top left no doubt as to their relationship status. Something was odd about the photo, however, and I stared, puzzlement joining my feelings of pain. Were... were her boobs bigger?

I closed the page. Well, I see where the divorce money went. I looked around me at the worn out furnishings and cheap takeout. Why was I doing this to myself? If Halima could get over me, I should do the same. At the very least, I should take care of myself. Sure, I'd left town, but I'd found a new job, and the pay was actually better than my last one. Enough to get me out of this shitty motel and into an actual apartment, right?

My takeout arrived. "One more, I guess..." I sighed, trudging to the door in my robe. I tipped the delivery person, and nudged the door behind me.

I drew myself a long bath, and stared at the water. My pizza had gone cold. I hadn't actually wanted it. The bathwater was steaming, and I dropped my robe, sighing in contentment as I slipped into the tub.

In the next few minutes, as I thumbed over listings, I realised I was wrong about being to afford my own apartment, at least for now. I put my phone aside, murmuring "Fuck it", and slipped further into the water, only my head remaining unsubmerged.

I tried to clear my mind, and breathe deeply. I could hear every rustle of leaves outside, and each drop from the leaking sink. I also heard a creak as the draft pushed against the door. I had forgotten to latch it properly again... I sighed again, but this time out of frustration. I couldn't stop thinking about Halima, her voice, the times we'd had together... how could she have done this to me?

I sniffed. Did I smell perfume?

Suddenly, I heard a noise, and had no time to sit up before the door swung open, and I heard a strong Eastern European accent. "Warming my bath for me, miss?" The voice reverberated lightly off the tiles, and I squealed, turning around, my cheeks reddening as I covered myself with my hands. "Don't worry," the voice said, sleek and authoritative. For some reason, I didn't, and I almost let my hands drop.

The voice belonged to a woman with dark eyes and an imposing stature. She filled the doorway, her quilted arms crossed beneath her chest, her gaze meeting mine.

"I-I think you might have the wrong room..." I said quietly.

"You think so?" Her eyebrow raised. "Are you sure? I wondered if maybe you were part of the package." The corner of her lip quirked, and my heart was in my throat.

Before I could reply, she turned around and walked out of the bathroom, the saloon door swinging behind her. The sound of her boots did not, however, go towards the door, and they closened again a moment later. A fresh towel appeared on the saloon door. "I do not want you to get cold," the woman's voice stated from beyond the door. Another smaller towel joined the first. "And you American women always go outside with wet hair - dry it first so you do not get sick!"

The voice brooked no argument, punctuated by a short creak of my bedsprings. I found myself replying "I'm... Canadian, actually." Why the hell was I correcting that, of all things? This woman had barged in to see me naked, not apologised, and was now sitting on my bed. I looked around the bathroom for something I could grab in case, but the best I saw was a plunger on the wet floor, and I doubted my scrawny arms could make that do anything but dampen the thick coat she was wearing.

I heard her begin to dial my room's phone. "Excuse me-" I began, getting on to my knees to stand, hoping she wouldn't walk back in to see me naked without at least the bath foam to hide my privates.

"Yes, bring beer and... lemonade glass, Room 12, along with my baggage." The woman's voice was imperious, and I quickly grabbed the larger towel as I heard the click of the receiver.

"Hair first, or you will get sick," she said, and I heard the shift of the bedsprings.

I had hardly whipped the towel around myself before the saloon doors swung open again - not that it mattered. The woman's head was well-above the doors, so she must have got more than a good eyeful before even opening the doors. She said nothing, her expression serious as she thrust the hair towel towards me.

"You women do not take care of yourselves," she said, factually but not harshly.

"Would you mind telling me what you're doing? I'm kinda naked here!" I said, my voice uneven and rising like the colour in my cheeks.

"I hand you towel so you dry your--" she began.

"I know that!" I interrupted. "What I mean is..." I paused, looking around in exasperation.

The woman said nothing, but nodded for me to continue, observing me patiently.

"What are you doing here?"

I became more infuriated as her eyes went back to the towel and she shook it slightly in my direction again. I snatched it unthinkingly and, as she crossed her arms again, I found words once more.

"I get it! The towel! Wet hair! Yes!" I began scrubbing my head furiously with one hand and trying to hold up the towel with the other. Her expression was inscrutable, but her eyes continued to observe me minutely.

"What I mean is why are you in my apartm- in my room? Like, in general?. Why did you barge in here in middle of the night while I was RELAXING?"I puffed.

"Yes, clearly very relax," she said sarcastically.

"Well, maybe I'd be able to relax if-" My voice shook, as I remembered Halima.

"-IF..." I drew in a long, ragged breath.

She'd taken my money and spent on tits for herself.

My breathing increased, and the lights seemed to flicker as I blinked faster.

Fucking huge TITS for that fucking huge man of hers

My mouth made sounds, then I couldn't find anymore air. Faster and faster I tried to pull in oxygen, and everything was spinning.

"I understand..." a voice echoed, strong and kind.

I was in my bed, leaning against something soft, hands in my hair gently toweling it dry.

"Halima..." I murmured.

"Nyet, just Anya. Shh..." the voice replied, a heartbeat pulsing against me, the sound waves echoing through me.

"Anya..." I whispered, dazed. The hands slowly moving my hair made my head loll slightly. "Mmm..." I hummed, contentedly.

"Yes, you see. Good to care for yourself." Anya said, and her words seemed to sink into me. My hand moved around her waist behind me, almost of its own accord, but Anya's breathing and focus did not shift.

So I sat there, letting a stranger caress my hair, as I gently cried. I'd played out so many scenarios of me and Halima - the good, the bad, the imagined. That night, however, new memories came to me... the mediocre. Something shifted, and Halima... became human again.

I can't remember if I awoke to find myself still in Anya's arms, or if she'd quietly left, tucking me in and propping my pillows. What I do remember is breakfast. That meal was the first real food I'd had in months, and I had it with Anya.

The next months were a time of change. Anya was staying at the motel as well, in her own room above mine. I never understood what the mixup was and how she ended up in my suite. It didn't really come up somehow, or if it did, I can't even remember the details. The first of many breakfasts before we went about our days. I was slowly recovering. The new job started to pick up more, and I got new clothes and a haircut. I also continued looking for an apartment, and went to some viewings. Anya went about her own business too, and we met for dinner more and more frequently. One evening, after she'd cooked for me (a feat of wonder in a motel room with little more than a kettle and an iron!), I started to drift off again, as we sat in the bed watching TV, and I sleepily joked "You can stay again if you like, we're practically roommates at this point." Anya had not replied, but smiled, stroking my hair, and I fell into a deep slumber.

The next day, Anya was quiet at breakfast. I found my eyes lingering on her as she sipped coffee, but I didn't say anything. I hadn't realised it, but when she went out, spending almost the entire day away, I missed her. It felt weird not having her there, and I was looking forward to her returning that evening. Smiling, I decided a little surprise was in order. I went to the store and picked up some supplies. I was excited as I went back to the hotel, going over the instructions again on my phone. Soon, the electric kettle was boiling and the iron was heating. I checked the recipe again, and crossed my fingers, hoping Anya would like what I was preparing.

I hadn't cooked for anyone since my last dinner with Halima, on our anniversary, when I'd made her favourite meal. She'd not eaten a bite, saying she could just tell me I'd screwed it up. It was odd, but the memory didn't have quite the edge it did before. I remembered that I'd even seen her eat from the dish when she thought I had gone to bed - I'd forgotten that, but even remembering this... there was just little effect, in all honesty. I couldn't make myself care more - I was too focused and excited, imagining Anya trying the dish. I'd decided to make her something from her home country - which I knew was a foolish idea, but I wanted to try anyway.

I slipped into the bath, filling it up again. I chuckled, remembering Anya first finding me here. That felt like a long time ago now. I scrubbed myself gently, working in the lather of a soap Anya had given me. As far as I could gather, Anya made soaps and cosmetics for a living, along with some more maybe crunchy or spiritual products. She'd given me this, to "help me focus on my peace", and it felt as though it did just that - I worked in the lather, breathing softly, and washed it away, feeling smooth and calm, the raw, rough emotions being processed and dissipating. The heat of the bath was intoxicating, and I had to force myself to stay awake.

I put the soap aside and put a video on on my phone. Anya was gone for a while, and the cooking had some time yet... I watched, rubbing my thighs together, my breathing deepening. My fingers slipped southwards as the last of the soap washed off. The time for calming was over... "Yes, more..." I said, echoing the woman in the video, as if agreeing to her demand. I sighed as my fingers brushed past my pubic hair and around my vulva. I circled it, feeling a warmth bloom within me. I teased myself, getting closer to the opening. I closed my eyes, conjuring a pair of arms in my mind. I leaned against the back of the tub, splashing water, and picture the arms holding me, moving slowly towards my vagina. I groaned quietly as I slipped in a finger. "Da, that's good. Don't stop now, Koshechka." My other hand moved up my thigh and stomach and on to my breast. I began making circles, cupping a breast, and my other hand slipped further in, moving steadily in and out. I thumbed my nipple, shuddering with pleasure, and lightly panting. I began pinching my hard nipple, biting my lip and fingering my clit. My mind seemed to go blank, as I enjoyed a purely sensational experience, and my moaning intensified...

Suddenly, I smelled burning. I shot up out of the bath and stumbled, completely naked out of the bathroom to the iron. It was sitting face up, a piece of meat wrapped grilling atop it. "Shit!" I said, as it spat hot liquid at me. "Shit! Shit!" I repeated, quickly flipping it, my fingers burning. I sighed in relief as I opened the foil, seeing it wasn't burned. The kettle seemed to be doing fine, and I gave the contents a stir...

"I should really get an apartment..." I mumbled, sucking my slightly scalded finger. A good thing Anya wasn't here to see-- I began to think and, of course, the fucking room door opened right then.

"Wait!" I squealed, diving towards the bed. Anya, being Anya, didn't.

"Having fun without me, I see." Anya said matter of factly, her eyes reflecting her amusement.

"No, that's not wha-" I started, going scarlet.

"It's fine, you couldn't wait..." she began, her voice languorous and suggestive. "If you like I can-- What is that smell?" she said, her tone changing to genuine curiosity.

"It's... dinner." I said, tucking myself firmly beneath the covers. My nipples were still hard, and were painfully obvious beneath the sheet. Anya, however, was distracted, and went over to inspect the food.

"Dorogoya Koshechka!" she said, her expression beaming as she opened the foil. I shivered as she used that word, but then my eyes widened as I realised I hadn't paused the video in the bathroom. Anya came over to me, and leaned over. I gasped as her chest brushed against mine, but she said nothing, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"Yeah... just thought I'd throw a little something together." I chuckled nervously, swinging my legs out from under the sheet. I looked around frantically for some clothing to grab, silently cursing the cleanup Anya had done with me yesterday. "Fuck it." I whispered, and bolted for the bathroom.

"Are you okay, Rodnaya?" she asked, as the saloon doors swung shut behind me. I heard her approaching and scrambled for my phone. Curse those long legs! I thought to myself, as I rubbed my hands quickly with a towel so I could turn off the phone, as I heard her approaching voice tutting over my wet hair. The phone was in hands-free mode, which meant I couldn't just press the On button. I frantically tapped in my password and switched off the video, silencing the busty Russian as she teased her sub. "Why have you done this?" Anya's voice came from over the stall door, her eyes boring into me.

"Well, I was- I was- You were out and I had nothing better to do!" I pleaded, tossing my phone to the side, feeling humiliated.

"Nothing better to do? Well, perhaps you should have nothing better more often, so you can cook more for me..." Anya purred, and I audibly sighed in relief as I realised what she meant.

"Yeah... Well, I figured I wanted to do something special for you." I said, looking at Anya as she removed her hat.

"Special? Why?" she said, her voice taking on an unusual lilting tone.

"Well, umm... what do you mean?" I said, quickly realising I was, not for the first time, completely naked in front of Anya, and I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself.

Anya looked at me, and for the first time in my life, I saw her hesitate.

I was surprised as a moment passed. Anya was a quiet person, but this pause was... pregnant with some meaning that eluded me. I shifted uncomfortably for all of two seconds before I found myself having to speak.

"I... wanted to make you something to thank you. You've been there for me." I began walking towards the saloon doors and opened them. Anya stepped back, towering over me, listening, but I saw her soften. It was as if she were waiting for a particular answer.

"You've done so much and you're important to me. I've never met anyone like you, and I've never become..." I paused for a moment, though I wasn't sure why. I felt nervous as Anya's grip on the bedpost tightened and her normally relaxed confidence tightened.

"I've never had a friend like you." I finished.

Anya turned and walked over to the kettle, saying nothing. I quickly grabbed my clothes from a chair, got under the bed covers, and began to get dressed. She switched off the kettle. "I see," she said.

"I... hope you like it." I said, standing up and moving to the cupboard to get cutlery. "I've probably got it wrong, so don't be surpri-" I started to say, before Anya suddenly spoke, still turned away.

"In my country, this is a very important meal. You only prepare it for someone... special." Her voice seemed far off, as if she was deep in thought. "I would not have expected-- I hope..." She suddenly turned, smiling. That expression, normally coming to her with ease, and conveying so much, whether coy, excited, joyful... now it was like a mask.

"Very good, we enjoy much." she said. Her English usually dropped a little when she was distracted, so, as I served, I asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, very well." she replied almost curtly, before breathing a sentence in Russian.

We sat down and I waited for her to pick up her cutlery. She didn't, and though I said I hadn't felt the hurt before, I remembered Halima. I tried not to show any outward sign, but my hand trembled and a film came over my eyes. Was she going to get up and throw it away? I remembered Halima's face, angry and searching for weaknesses. Anya's was so different, and the ghost of Halima evaporated as I blinked and looked into her eyes. There was no malice there, just... hesitation. There was an eagerness but also nervousness. It seemed to matter so much right now to me that she tried it, and it clearly mattered a lot to her too. I waited, and forced a smile on to my face. As I watched her, her brow furrowed, the smile became genuine, and I chuckled.

She looked up, surprised, and I laughed, standing up. I sidled my way to her, and took her cutlery. "Need a hand there?" I said, grinning. Anya opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything it was filled with my dish.

Her eyes widened, but then she seemed to focus. A moment later, she swallowed.

"How is it?" I asked, my bravado subsiding. Anya took my hand, her long deft fingers covering mine. "Perfect, Koshechka." Her hand didn't release mine, and I felt a fluttering as her eyes held mine. "Perfect..." she whispered, her soul looking into mine.

I reached forward, not knowing why, until I found myself kissing her.

She reciprocated, and the plate clattered as pulled me closer. Her lips were full and soft, and her tongue moved over mine as the kiss deepened. All was silent, and it felt as though Anya was omnipresent. She was the air I breathed, the rich taste of the meal, the evening sun's warm embers on my back, the murmur from my lips, and she was the feeling of closeness that thrummed my heart's rhythm, beating ever faster.

I don't know how long those moments were, though they must have been moments. I don't remember standing up, but I was breathless when she put me down on the ground. Suddenly, she looked away, and I saw a smile on her face. "What?" I giggled. "I've thought of my gift for you now, Koshechka," she purred, sashaying past me. I drank in her sensual hips as she slipped off her coat, going into the bathroom, grabbing a little case of her soaps on the way.

Below the saloon doors, I saw her boots come off, and then her tights and skirt. "Anya!" I cried out, quickly undoing my blouse. She was faster, and her top was thrown to the side. I could only see her neck, shoulders, and collarbone above the door, and her shins, feet, and ankles below. I saw her black panties drop to the floor, and the statuesque woman grinned as I gaped. "Just wait until doors open, Canada-girl..." she teased, her voice thick with lust. I heard a slap, and undid more of my blouse buttons. "Nyet, nyet. Davai! You remove in front of Anya, da?" she said, winking. "You wait minute - then come." I giggled... that was true - at this rate, I didn't think I'd last more than a minute with Anya. My heart was racing and my panties were soaked. I had never wanted anything so bad, or so I thought...

The doors swung open and I stepped into the bathroom, ready for my little strip tease. I stopped in my tracks, staring.

"Well, this might be enough to finally get your fucking attention."

"Wha--??" was the closest I could get to a sentence as I stared, slack-jawed at the sight before me. Anya smirked, sloshing the bathwater further, and my eyes widened further, in tandem with her expanding breasts...

I'd known Anya for a few months, and she wasn't shy about her body. I'd seen her in a bra before. Those weren't her normal boobs.

Anya languished in the bathwater, her long legs resting on the rim, and she stuck out her chest, groaning in pleasure. As she did so, I couldn't help but say "Holy fuck!" as I watched her breasts, previously the size of her fist, balloon outwards suddenly. "Holy... nyet, just Anya..." she teased. "Well, maybe a little more of Anya..." she mused, as her breasts reached the size of large grapefruits. They were beautiful, teardrop shaped and capped with puffy, swollen nipples. "Suka... maybe more than a little... first time I am trying this one!" she gasped, as her boobs rapidly graduated to small melons. "Anyway, you mention "fuck". I suggest you start." Anya tried to keep her tone even as she said this, one hand attempting to palm the breast flesh that so willingly splayed her fingers and spread beyond their bounds, but it was no good. She gasped and moaned, splashing water on the floor as her hips bucked beneath the water. "It feels... soo good... But, will be better once you remember how to move, woman."

I caught myself still standing halfway through the doorway, transfixed as Anya's breasts swelled even more. "Wha- what is happening?!" I squeaked, finding my voice.

"I told you... ahhh... I am very talented soap maker... mmm..." Anya groaned, as she lathered herself more with foam from a sapphire coloured bar of soap she held in one hand. "B-b-biig..." I said mutely.

"Yes, yes, like in your porn video. Now, perhaps you finally fuck your new girlfriend, yes?" Anya said, snapping her fingers and pointing her toes as her foamy boobs floated freely in the water, slowly burgeoning.

"Girlfriend?" I asked, almost as surprised by that as by Anya's seemingly magically growing tits.

"It okay. You make the lovers' dish - I fill in rest of the blanks." she said casually, sighing as she squeezed a breast that would have been inadequately described as 'ample'. "Now, why you are waiting?" she asked, her expression becoming doe-eyed. "Perhaps you need my titties bigger than hers?"

Anya began to rapidly lather the soap bar, and fervently rub the suds against her tits. She cried out in pleasure as the growth's pace increased, her breasts reaching the size of cantaloupes. "They feel so fucking good... Take off your clothes now --no fucking stripping, I want you all over these now!" she barked between groans.

Astounded, I began undressing. The last button on my blouse wouldn't come undone, and I kept fiddling with it until a hand reached from the tub and ripped it free. "I fix later," Anya cooed, as she jiggled her breasts at me. They were now approaching the size of her head, and were beyond any bra size I'd ever seen in a store.

I took the queue and practically tore off the rest of my clothes. "Finally, Canada girl. If I didn't know this was what you want, I would think you not interested."

I cried out as she pulled me into the tub. "Now, let's both enjoy these." Anya groaned, pushing my face into her cleavage. Obliging, I began to caress, lick, and suck on her breasts. "Yes... yes, more." She growled. I didn't know if she meant me or her breasts, which seemed to grow even faster... Probably both, I figured, as I slid a hand to her pussy.

Truth be told, Anya was already a total knockout before. I hadn't been able to admit it, but I think I'd secretly been crushing on her for a while. We were well past that now, as I watched her transform into the porn I had just watched. It wasn't as if we had never discussed sex and our likes and dislikes before, and Anya went all out. She teased me ceaselessly, making me service her whole body (and, of course her swelling tits), punishing and rewarding me as she deemed fit. I had never felt so vulnerable, and I quivered at her unrelenting, yet tender domination. For each spank there was a kiss, and each tease was layered with months of connection and trust.

When Anya was ready, she lifted herself up to sit on the rim of the bath, her breasts dangling enticingly from her as she leaned back. "Now, make Mistress Anya come." she commanded. "Yes, Mistress." I said, getting on my knees. Her hand moved to cup my chin. She leaned to look at me, her eyes dangerous. "Did I say to stop touching these tits?" she said, menacingly. My ass was still stinging, and my heart raced as I rapidly replied. "No... No, Mistress! Of course!" I began massaging her breasts as she parted her legs further for me. My tongue swirled, darted, and pushed, and Anya groaned in appreciation. "You're forgetting something..." she said, her voice seeming to echo through me. I tried to think what it could be, desperate to please my mistress. "The soap, Kukolka." My eyes widened, and I paused. "What are you waiting for? Now." she said, her will bending me to act. I grabbed the soap and began rubbing, her hand holding my head in place so I didn't stop licking.

I began to move my hands towards my breasts, when Anya spoke. "Very tempting, but maybe next time, Printsessa. I want to be bigger..." I complied, and she gasped, as I began rubbing in the soap. Almost immediately, I felt her breasts begin to grow heavier and heavier in my hands, and my arms were forced lower under the onslaught as her tits surpassed bowling balls. "Maybe now you will not waste time waiting and secretly watching internet woman and give yourself to me, mmm?" She mused. I licked more harshly. "Is that your best?" she said. I redoubled my efforts. "Davai!" she groaned, before she was lost to words. Between my insistent tonguing and my continual rubbing in of the soap, Mistress Anya's moans climbed higher and higher, setting me afire with their intensity.

When she came, it was explosive, and I lapped at her gleefully. "Mmm... good girl." she sighed, before leaning forward.

I had known she was continually growing, but I was blown away. At her instruction, I had stopped applying the soap, and my hands were thick with the blue lather, and I gazed at the prize watermelons adorning Anya's upper torso. The only word that came to mind was 'immense', as I watched her stretch. She was strong, but was unused to the weight of breasts that came almost down to her waist and that were wider than her torso - covering even her arms from the front.

I was breathless as I reached for her pussy again. "Ah-ah! Mistress Anya does not want now. Time for other gift for you..." Anya motioned for me to stand, as she lowered herself back into the water. Shakily, I got to my feet, water running down me, my heart pounding.

Anya slowly stroked my face, her hand trailing down my body. The soap, though diluted by the bathwater, had not left me unaffected, and I was surprised to see that now would have had some serious quad boob in any of my normal bras. Her hands graced my thigh, hip, and buttocks admiringly. "So beautiful, my pet," she whispered, moving her mouth towards my nethers. My legs quivered, and her other hand steadied me with ease. I looked down at her as she kept eye contact as she ate me out, her makeup mussed. I could feel her enormous breasts against my legs, and Anya had to be careful not to knock me over with their heft. Kissing my pussy lips, she murmured "Yes, feel me...". And I did, gasping and crying out, turned on ever more by her urging words delivered between licks.

I don't know how many times I came, but at last I collapsed, lying in the cooling water between her gigantic mammaries. Anya kissed me, holding me close.

"M-maybe we can remove the 'practically' part from 'roommates'" I joked. "Perhaps..." Anya said, smirking, making me gasp as she ran a hand close to my overstimulated pussy. She gave me a long kiss. When our lips parted, I said "Definitely." Then Anya stood and, unable to help myself I grabbed at her boobs, almost making her slip from the sudden stimulation. I cackled. Reaching up, she grabbed a towel and dropped it on to my head.

"You're going to need more than one towel..." I said, still scarcely able to believe what had transpired in this room. Her breasts, though still massive, were slowly diminishing, presumably back to their normal size.

"Nyet, we dry hair first." Anya said, and I rolled my eyes, making her cry out as I pinched a huge nipple. "Or we could stay in the bath a bit longer..." I suggested. "Nyet," she said, slapping my hand away. "Cold now. Hair is wet, will get sick. Maybe later in bed after we eat... If you are a good Koshechka..."

Can we do anything that'll give you more time to be active here and write more?

So, I’ve written a post regarding what’s happening, and a more detailed response to an ask. At the moment I’m trying to reduce my work hours to a normal 40 hour week (because I don’t get paid for overtime) to go to physiotherapy as well as the psychologist I’m seeing - I may have to get a part-time job to pay for a few of these things. 

However, I’ve set myself some writing goals, which I plan to stick to. It may take a while until I get into a rhythm, but the writing’s coming.

Which stories are you the most proud of writing?

Hmm... Tough one. Some of my earliest ones will always be my favourites, because they were my first forays into the genre. However, there are lots of pieces I’ve written along the way which I find myself returning to. I suck at choosing :p

I'll reblog this since it's the most recent and overall relevant ask to the current writing situation.

Are you OK with telling us what's been happening? And where can we find your other blog?

Thank you for being so courteous. I’ve been having some problems for a few years now, and I’ve recently managed to get a diagnosis. I won’t bore you with the details, but essentially it has a number of secondary effects, one of which is a significant reduction in serotonin production. That, other secondary effects, and other things have led to me suffering from depression and anxiety. I’m taking medication for my condition now, and I’ve also started going to therapy for my depression. It feels healthier somehow being open about this.

On another note, here’s my other blog.

Thanks to all my regular readers and whoever else might have stopped by for your support. I hope to get back to writing as soon as possible. I miss it and this community.

Hey massive fan of your writing sorry to hear about your issues lately I hope you start to feel better soon. Stay strong.

Thanks very much, really.

How tall are you?

Not enough!