Talk to me!!!

[lunabee34]

I have gone completely cross-eyed and simply cannot write any more of my column that's due on Monday.

And yet, every night this week as I lay down to sleep, I have coughed and coughed and coughed until I kinda think my esophagus is eroded. These are not the abs of steel I wanted! So, not really relishing bedtime.

Let's do this instead. Give me a fannish prompt--pairing, character, situation, *something*, and I'll write you one hundred words right now on the spot, insta-fic.

:)

*is bored*

Comments

[tabaqui]

Ooooooooooh....

Spike. The future. *Not* pining over the Scoobies, and not dying. Heh.
Um....there *is* life on other planets.
:)

[lunabee34.livejournal.com]

“Got a light?” Spike says.

Terry strikes a match and Spike inhales the sulfuric smoke of a match-lit Marlboro. He prefers a Zippo, but there’s something sharp and chemical and tasty about doing things the old fashioned way.

Spike asks. “Have you done the reading?”

Terry grins. “Dracula rocks! It’s no Wes Craven flick, but seriously cool.”

“If you even utter the name Wes Craven in my presence again, I will bite you.”

Terry laughs. “Okay, Prof. Way to internalize.”

Spike grinds his cigarette out on the brick wall of Bondurant Hall. He’s got a section of Comp next. Wankers.

[tabaqui]

“If you even utter the name Wes Craven in my presence again, I will bite you.”

Whoooooooooooooooooot!!
You rock.
Genius!