the trick is to keep breathing

So, I initially said I was going to do a mini-Nano. Well. I kind of intended to work on an original story I'd already started. Then, Becky and I were going to work on ~shame novels~. Now, I have no idea what I'm going to do. And it's November 1st!

I do want to work on my original stories. I really do. But at this point I'm not sure it'll carry me through the month.

So hey! Leave me some prompts.

Like always, I make no guarantee that they're going to get written at all. (See for reference: I took prompts last year, and they did erupt into words, but none of them ever got finished.)

So no guarantees and no promises and maybe I'll just end up trolling those prompts from last year because some of them are still awesome (BALLS AND SPAGHETTI, ANYONE??), but if you have any new ideas, or revamps of old ideas, throw them at me

25,000 words i swear it will happen

Friday: Late-night drive to Columbus (seriously... I'm talking 1am)

Friday night: Up all night in a terrified curled-up ball in the corner of the couch because I am afraid of Drakon's vicious baby-eating wolf hybrids (read: dogs fall over on floor to be petted when you look at them)

Saturday morning: Leave house with thermos full of two pots of coffee, which is promptly stored between my legs for the drive to B-Town. Meet greatest Wendy's employee ever and discuss fandom, drama, fanfiction, and being forever students. Definitely drink two pots of coffee. Pee every ten minutes. Meticulously tag everything we discuss. There is a zombie on your lawn.

Saturday afternoon: Arrival in Cendriville. Cendri dances for us in dress and ladybug slippers. Take video. Attend wedding at which Harry Potter is a groomsman. Head off to reception and meet awesome old people for dinner. Wait expectantly for groom's family to provide liquor license.

Saturday evening: Sev is the goddamned Batman (of makeup). Pa Cendri offers to be DD. He is awesome and I am proud to be his m-preg spawn. Score excellent Greek food. Have tasty local brew. Follow the sound of techno to a club at which we dance like we are not as old as we are. Are supplied with delicious candy-tasting Long Islands, which we then transfer to Taco Bell cups and take home. Sleepy cuddle-times passing out in awesome waterbed. Next morning transfer to Squishy Bed, which eats me. There is still a zombie on your lawn.

Sunday morning: Ma Cendri feeds us deliciousness; it is awesome. Wander B-Town. Pet three cats (yay!). Purchase copious amounts of music. Eat more delicious food.

Sunday afternoon: Listen to world's greatest CD ever in the car while writing ~5,000 words of plot outline for the most epic FF8 fic possible. Eat burgers.

Sunday night: Finally arrive home and pass the fuck out.

My penis is a divining rod, and you are the water.