Just...gah. Why!? If you're going to rip my heart out through my nostril, put it in the blender and hit frappe and then serve it to me with a lemon twist, then can you *at* least do it when I expect it? And where I expect it?
Fine. Fine. Fine. Be that way, evil internet gods that govern my late night fic searchs.
*stalks off, muttering to herself*
*stalks back, menacingly* All I have to say is this: don't think I won't do that pairings meme. Because I will. And oh man, I can promise trauma. *nods firmly*
Take that evil internet gods. Ha.
ETA: Apparently those evil internet gods of mine really don't deal well with threats. Two seconds after I posted I recieved IM spam saying "Check out my 3 foot telescoping demon penis".
There are no words for the absolute horror done to a visual thinker by that prompt....or the perverse curiousity that has me still keeping the window open. I mean...*telescoping*? *boggles*
