RL. And The Five Doctors. And woot! Drabble Openings.

[nekare]

Bah, I had to left Japanese class early since I have just too much to do. And it was the last class of the semester, too... My essay on Juan Jose Arreola is currently 5 pages long, so woot, I'm halfway there *weeps* (and I'm adding photos of him, and using fragments of his stories to use more space!) Doing this has, though, brought back my love for La Migala, a wonderful, chilling story that really made me shudder the first time I read it. I ♥ that short story, my favorite of him. (I'm still hating doing the paper, though.)

My dad is back! And he brought alfajores with him, yay! (they're delicious sweets from both Chile and Argentina. Mmm...) Poor thing is still sick. Hopefully we'll go and get tacos tonight to celebrate (and so he can get some real Mexican food after all those days). And ugh, I still got LOTS of homework to do for writing class and I've got to go downtown at three to do a team project, which is a drag, and it'll only be there because all of the others have Photography in the Art Campus of college, and it's easier for them. I'll go by bus because I'm cheap and I don't wanna pay parking fees.

Am procrastinating as I write this because I don't wanna go back to homework. *weeps some more*

Doctor Who - The Five Doctors
Finally got to finish this yesterday, and wooo, me likes! So many doctors together makes my head go asploady. (It would've been more, though, if Four had actually been there. Le sigh.) My favorites are totally Three and Five (and well, Four, bue he wasn't there so nyah.), because they're awesome like that, and while the TARDIS!Love was severly lacking, it was all good.

Gosh, Gallifrey sure has some tacky style, huh? And the glitter in Berusa's suit! HAHAHA! *cough* While the plot was somewhat dodgy (but then again, this is Doctor Who...), the action was cool, all: BAM! And there's a Dalek. BAM! Cyberman! BAM! And the Master is suppose to save the Doctor!

Companion Wise (because we all know just how important this is): Susan was blah. Really, she didn't do much of anything except look odd and twist her ankle with the stupidest thing. *sigh* The Brigadier was cool, since he was no damsel in distress, and it feels almost like a match to the Doctor. Sara Jane... has horrible taste in clothing. She also keeps on tripping and whatnot, but she's smart so she's forgiven. Less than five minutes with Romana II, and I can almost see why everyone loves her. "Oh, I do love the summer." "It's October." "Oh, I do love the Autumn." XD She's wicked. While Tegan's hairstyle SUCKS BIG TIME, she's definitely the coolest, since she won't take any shit from the Doctor and can climb rocks and whatnot with high heels. She doesn't like the TARDIS very much, though ;-; And waaaah, but Tourlough is HOT. And ginger. And have I mentioned hot? I love his suit and the fact that he looks like an overgrown schoolboy. ^g^

Okay, so I know shouldn't be doing this, but I'm booooored, and I need me sanity. So, Drabble Openings start now. They won't be done for a few days, but I do want to do something, at least. I especially love weird fandoms/pairings for drabbles... *hint, hint* So tell me a character/pairing, a prompt (no poetry, please) and to make things more interesting, a color.

Fandoms: HP (duh), Doctor Who, Alias, Narnia, Nip/Tuck, Fight Club, Howl's Moving Castle, Good Omens, Spirited Away.

Comments

[nekare.livejournal.com]

I think I'm definitely liking to write Fight Club way too much XDD Yours got a bit out of control, really, and I think it's the very first fic I've ever used the word 'cock' in 0_o Really, you should be honored *g*

Withdrawal
Fight Club – Narrator/Tyler – “I never liked that shirt anyway,” – Red - 611 Words

I enter the room and throw the beer bottle at the wall. “Whoa!” goes Tyler as he ducks, and he avoids most of the glass shards and the yellow liquid that is sliding down the grimy wall in not quite that satisfying way blood does.

“Why aren’t you gone?!” I ask as I get closer, hands raking through my hair and my constant swallowing of spit making the still-open would in my neck itch through that bandages. It is not fair, not fair, not fair, I fucking pulled a gun to my mouth to get rid of the bastard, and now he’s there, standing with that smirk of his and throwing back his shoulders and his infuriatingly red leather jacket with them in that superiority act he’s always pulled.

I reach him, get my hands around his neck, and his smile is suddenly broader. “Answer me! How can you be alive?” I scream into his face, saliva getting into his skin and making it shine under the lonely light bulb that comes to live and goes off three times each minute.

Tyler laughs, his tongue against his teeth, palms pressed to his hips. “But I’m not alive, that’s the thing. And you’re fucking walking on rotting feet, so we’re pretty much the same thing, you know?”

“I killed you. I killed you, I know I did!” I keep on screaming, my thumbs pressing into Tyler’s airway more strongly, and that’s the moment I realize he’s not breathing. Shit. I hate the way he’s the only one that manages to bring me out of my lethargy.

Tyler pushes at my chest, and even though I don’t release him, he still manages to corner me against a wall, to get so close I can see the pores of his skin and the nicotine-stained teeth. “Yes, you did. And you also brought me back to life, because apparently, you’re too pathetic to be by yourself. Should I say thanks?” He asks with a genuinely curious look, and then I don’t get to say anything, because Tyler’s forcing his tongue inside my mouth, and I can taste smoke and make-believe and it’s not. Fucking. Real.

(And I don’t care at all.)

My hands move from his hateful little neck to the lapels of his red jacket, and then I’m taking it off him and I know if someone were to enter they’d seem me kissing the air and grinding against the wall as if someone larger than me was pressing me against it. Tyler laughs against my ear, and I bite his shoulder, draw fake blood as he punches me in the gut and fills me up with bruises. I get my left hand down Tyler’s trousers, and I know it must be my own cock the one I’m pumping.

I rip his shirt beyond repair; twist the imaginary fabric with my blunt fingernails. “I never liked that shirt anyway,” We both say at the same time, and it comes out as a moan for me, a breathy laugh for him, and even my pleasure is shared, and nothing is really mine. I don’t even know if I own myself.

“You make me real,” Tyler says.

“I make you real,” I agree, and nibble at his throat.

With Tyler, the point of no return was a long time ago – no second guesses, no second chances. I crossed that line the moment I made myself believe there was another voice talking to me through the telephone, as I saw ash fall from my deceased flat.

I crossed it then, and I’m crossing it again.

[crooked.livejournal.com]

oh. OH. OH! this is a work of sheer brilliance! well, everything you write is but this is Fight Club. *flails* i loved every single bit of it and i can't even begin to quote bits since i would just C & P the entire thing back to you. :P

and i am honored to get the first cock from you! XD [okay... that didn't sound right but there was no other way to put it. XP] this was fantastic, sweetie! thanks!! *loves* ♥

[nekare.livejournal.com]

Yayz, I'm so happy you liked it!! :)) You're too nice. (and where's your writing? I haven't seen a thing of yours since, uh, wellymuck?

...That does sound wrong XDD But bah, it's funny. *loves right back*