March 14th, 2003

elijah

I'm. So. Gorram. Tiiiiiiiired.

I just want to stay in bed all day. Can't. Work beckons. Actually, work glares at me from across the room and makes rude, imperious hand gestures. Bitch.

Have allowed myself five minutes online before I stagger into morning routine. My thought for the morning was about plausible slashing or shipping, or maybe I should just say "nookying." And how maybe it *is* possible to get any two characters into bed together. But is it always possible to get them there *romantically*? I think for some pairings, the only plausible way for them to have sex is to have bad sex. Or really stupid sex.

I had an example in mind that would have helped support this claim, but I lost it between bed and computer in the struggle for full consciousness. Oh, how about Giles/Snyder. I apologize to any of who have written this pairing and are squeaking, "Hey!" as your One True Pairing is maligned. You freaks. But tell me a sexual scenario between them that isn't bad, wrong, or horrifying. And if, with dedication to canon and plausibility, one is forced to acknowledge that one's scenario can only be written as bad and wrong--is there a point really? Well, some people are nodding. Some may like it just for novelty value. But I'm made of shmoopier stuff.

It shouldn't be a huge surprise, now that I think about it, that my first impulses in writing those Spike/Lorne snippets was to try and find a particular angle into the characters that made them susceptible to nooky. Lorne--I guess I just went for the Very Gay angle there, drawing on cliche and on real-life observation to find his inner mensch. Which looks a lot like his outer mensch. It doesn't seem a huge stretch to highlight his character so that he reads as one of those sweet, extravagantly gay guys who simply can't hide their gayness--can't pass for straight--and who suffer for it in the romantic arena. This kind of guy crushes on unattainable objects of affection and so of course goes wide-eyed and stuttery with disbelief when some golden god actually smiles back at him. ("Who, *me*? He can't be looking at *me*.")

Spike, I think, would sleep with a water buffalo if the circumstances were right. ("Oh, you're a right beauty, aren't you, love?") He'd do it for money, or to get something else he wanted, or to placate and distract someone more powerful if he needed time to negotiate, or whatever. I think that, given a toss-up between bad sex and no sex he'd size up the giant tentacled octopus-demon next to him, slam back another vodka shot and be like, "Yeah, all right. Let's shag."

But that's just me.

Work beckons. Anna glares at work and screams, shut up, shut up, shut up!

Anna is work's bitch, however, because she likes these things called "food" and "housing" so she sighs and goes.
elijah

panic attack of the day

I am terribly behind on noir. I am behind on sidelines. Soon I am going to reviled, abandoned, and forgotten by everyone except for a small band of dedicated Spike/Lorne shippers. I will be writing these series for years to come, until I go mad, mad, mad! How much madder can I go?! I am insane already and I suck! I need a week off to write, except I probably wouldn't write, and then I'd suck more!

I suppose I could have posted this on radio_kfkd, where all good writerly core dumps belong, but the results of my last post there left a bad taste in my mouth.

I should turn off comments, but no. Instead, I say--don't love me. Don't reassure me. What I want instead are suggestions for the next writerly project I should launch that will distract me even further from my current commitments. Variation on a meme. Tell me: what should Anna write?

  • Spike/Lorne--Splorne!
  • Spike/Water Buffalo!
  • Xander/Tara!
  • Whore!Spike
  • Slave!Spike
  • Whore!Slave!Insane!Seething!Bitch!Spike
  • The one where --------------------.
  • Willow/Tara/Xander/Riley!
  • Tara/Water Buffalo!
  • Ohmigod, I've just been waiting for you to ask me this question--let me beg you to write this story idea for me while you secretly change your name and flee the country in terror!
  • Two words: Anime. Bunny.
  • Other


elijah

Threesomes

This seems to be the topic du...semaine?

I was kinda surprised by how many respondents to my last post wanted threesomes. It's weird because, in my fantasies, I do imagine a fair number of threesome scenarios and they're usually pretty hot too, albeit in a non-consensual and raunchy "fingercuffs" sort of way. But I don't think of it as a kink of mine, where I'd be like, Gah, need to find X/Y/Z fic--why does no one write this?!! Especially with relationship fic, or male/female/male love sandwiches. I think I have a bit of a bias against those sandwiches, because I've read so many stories where the guys never even touch and that's just zzzzzzzzz. And once you've got three people in a bed, you're bound to notice when two of them don't get it on. At least I do, which eventually distracts and irks me, and then I finish the story and sigh, and...well, once as a result I drank heavily and threw myself off a bridge to land belly-down on a passing tramp steamer, which carried me overseas to Thailand, where I became a transvestite junkie prostitute and had three children out of wedlock to a local mob boss, before returning home a broken woman.

But usually I just sigh and go read some hot male-on-male action to pep myself up.

It's time for me to go home but I'm loath to move. Loath. That's kind of like sloth. I'm sloth to move. And I can't stop playing with this slinky. The smell of pink plastic is getting kind of special. I've taken to rubbing it against my cheek. I hope no one in the office notices, because I barely notice I'm doing it myself and my reputation is precariously balanced already. Today I rescued a cookie from the carpet under my desk and ate it in front of someone. Five-second rule, but still. I can't tell if P. was looking at me funny or not. He was wearing seventies-style smoked sunglasses indoors as we conversed.

I just want to teleport home. Teleport...teleport...teleport.


elijah

seethe seethe seethe

So, the *only* reason I'm watching "Charmed" is for Cole and his arc. And what do they do to me? They cut two critical episodes from the syndicated line-up for *no* *good* *reason*. I'm watching Wednesday's ep, fine, great, and Thursday it's basketball, and when I return on Friday, the sisters (a) all of a sudden know that Cole is evil, and (b) HAVE KILLED HIM.**

Is that not the most fucked of fucked-uppedness you've ever heard of? And I hurried *home* tonight just for this--I took a *taxi* because I was running *late*.

Sad, but...addictive personality, you know.

(**He comes back to life later, but that's beside the point.)