Fuzzies Flying Around My Brain (Comment!Fic?)
So... Currently sitting here with a head full of ideas, practically fuzzing around my brain like cotton balls. And nothing on paper. And so many other things I should be writing.
So, who wants to write comment!fic with me?
C'mon, you know you wanna.
I'll even start us off:
It was a dark and stormy night.
That probably should've been the tip-off.
But for Xander Harris, who knew better than to rely on the cliche when gauging the current safety of the Hellmouth, rain was never an issue. He'd spent nights in worse when he was young and too scared to go home, too prideful to ask Willow or Jesse for their couches yet again. And thunder had never frightened him like it should've-- though for a very long time he'd wished his father would get struck by lightning-- so to him it was all a light show, a fireworks display.
The spooky Hellmouth stuff happened on clear nights too. Clear days, even. So Xander was not at all suspicious of the ominous roll of thunder overhead, even when he found himself sopping wet and on the other side of town, with no clue of how he got there, and barely half a clue as to where he was. One minute he was leaving the cemetery, picking fledge dust out from under his nails, mind in a daze as it tried to focus on something that wasn't a certain bleach-blonde Brit, and the next minute he found himself here.
At "Bull's".
The most demon infested gay bar in Sunnydale.
So, who wants to write comment!fic with me?
C'mon, you know you wanna.
I'll even start us off:
It was a dark and stormy night.
That probably should've been the tip-off.
But for Xander Harris, who knew better than to rely on the cliche when gauging the current safety of the Hellmouth, rain was never an issue. He'd spent nights in worse when he was young and too scared to go home, too prideful to ask Willow or Jesse for their couches yet again. And thunder had never frightened him like it should've-- though for a very long time he'd wished his father would get struck by lightning-- so to him it was all a light show, a fireworks display.
The spooky Hellmouth stuff happened on clear nights too. Clear days, even. So Xander was not at all suspicious of the ominous roll of thunder overhead, even when he found himself sopping wet and on the other side of town, with no clue of how he got there, and barely half a clue as to where he was. One minute he was leaving the cemetery, picking fledge dust out from under his nails, mind in a daze as it tried to focus on something that wasn't a certain bleach-blonde Brit, and the next minute he found himself here.
At "Bull's".
The most demon infested gay bar in Sunnydale.