burntcopper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burntcopper) wrote2002-10-28 01:00 pm
burntcopper) wrote2002-10-28 01:00 pm
bunnies. evil ones
Meg keeps asking me for nsync bunnies. Disturbingly, this is actually working... I keep coming back with little angst bits and so on. However, her Death!Lance is fucking evil. Because this Lance is part Discworld Death, and so quotes just keep filtering in past my defences...
'JC, STOP TRYING TO BEAT ME AT CHESS. I AM NOT A MONKEY.' *Looks speculatively at Justin.* 'NOT THAT MONKEY EITHER.'
'YOU KNOW, IT REALLY DISTURBS ME WHAT THEY DO TO FERRETS THESE DAYS.'
However, I managed to reclaim a JC/Joey bunny I'd been feeding her when I suddenly realised it would be perfect for Wes/Gunn. Nanowrimo is in 4 days. I don't need these fucking fandom bunnies! It started with JC having sex with Joey and not trying to get involved emotionally because of past heartbreak. The only problem is Meg keeps trying to make me write pop fic and I can't. Besides, once the idea translated to Gunn/Wes, I had more ideas and depth.
Because this is better than what he once had. The last thing he wants to think of is the way his heart crashed and burned when Fred told him it just wasn't going to work out. He'd loved her, let himself really love someone for the first time, shut the reality of the world around them out enough to forget his damn *job* when he was absorbed in her. It almost got them killed a couple of times, doing that, and he was so wrapped up in it that he defended those mistakes to other people. But now she's gone. And once it was clear that she wasn't going to come back, that she'd found a nice university lecturer who wasn't going to interfere with the job, and knew what she was talking about when she started going on about mechanical whosit and formulae. Who had more qualifications than just knowing how to kill demons.
Which is why he ended up in that bar, trying to drown his sorrows. Far enough gone that he wasn't that surprised when Wes' gravelly voice spoke up from behind him in sarcastic greeting.
"Little out of your way, isn't it? I never thought you'd end up in one of these."
"Life shits on us all, Wes. Now fuck off."
Dry chuckle as he draws up the other chair at the table without asking. "That tone indicates it's either women trouble or getting fired. Since I haven't heard of Darla resurrecting anytime recently, I'd say the most likely women trouble. Am I right?"
"Yeah, you're right. Fred dumped me."
"My condolences." The waitress comes up. "Bring the bottle over."
"Sir, he's a bit..." She protests.
"It's for both of us. And we're quite capable of taking the full consequences of alcohol poisoning upon our own heads, I assure you."
So he and Wes drink. And when it's time to throw them out, Wes stretches. "I have more alcohol back at my flat. Coming?"
'JC, STOP TRYING TO BEAT ME AT CHESS. I AM NOT A MONKEY.' *Looks speculatively at Justin.* 'NOT THAT MONKEY EITHER.'
'YOU KNOW, IT REALLY DISTURBS ME WHAT THEY DO TO FERRETS THESE DAYS.'
However, I managed to reclaim a JC/Joey bunny I'd been feeding her when I suddenly realised it would be perfect for Wes/Gunn. Nanowrimo is in 4 days. I don't need these fucking fandom bunnies! It started with JC having sex with Joey and not trying to get involved emotionally because of past heartbreak. The only problem is Meg keeps trying to make me write pop fic and I can't. Besides, once the idea translated to Gunn/Wes, I had more ideas and depth.
Because this is better than what he once had. The last thing he wants to think of is the way his heart crashed and burned when Fred told him it just wasn't going to work out. He'd loved her, let himself really love someone for the first time, shut the reality of the world around them out enough to forget his damn *job* when he was absorbed in her. It almost got them killed a couple of times, doing that, and he was so wrapped up in it that he defended those mistakes to other people. But now she's gone. And once it was clear that she wasn't going to come back, that she'd found a nice university lecturer who wasn't going to interfere with the job, and knew what she was talking about when she started going on about mechanical whosit and formulae. Who had more qualifications than just knowing how to kill demons.
Which is why he ended up in that bar, trying to drown his sorrows. Far enough gone that he wasn't that surprised when Wes' gravelly voice spoke up from behind him in sarcastic greeting.
"Little out of your way, isn't it? I never thought you'd end up in one of these."
"Life shits on us all, Wes. Now fuck off."
Dry chuckle as he draws up the other chair at the table without asking. "That tone indicates it's either women trouble or getting fired. Since I haven't heard of Darla resurrecting anytime recently, I'd say the most likely women trouble. Am I right?"
"Yeah, you're right. Fred dumped me."
"My condolences." The waitress comes up. "Bring the bottle over."
"Sir, he's a bit..." She protests.
"It's for both of us. And we're quite capable of taking the full consequences of alcohol poisoning upon our own heads, I assure you."
So he and Wes drink. And when it's time to throw them out, Wes stretches. "I have more alcohol back at my flat. Coming?"
no subject
And be strong! Resist the pop fic. You can do it!