mllelaurel

Dear DW Muses (you know who you are, and yes, there's more than one of you)

Kindly forebear from ever giving me your nightmares again. Or else, bitchez. I can wreak havoc on you, of the kind that makes Rusty look like Mother Theresa, if you ever pull that shit again. Capice?

Love,

Your author

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Dear Capt. Jack Harkness and Lt. Commander Susan Ivanova

I certainly don't mind the fact that you two seem to have bonded, but I'd be much obliged if my headspace wasn't turned into that Jerry Springer episode, "Telepaths and the Millitary Personel Who Love Them", twenty-four/seven.

In Jack's case, at least, I fully expect him to take time off from commiseration (therapeutic though it is) and actually earn his keep as a muse. Fics. You two know what those things are, right?

In Ivanova's case, I actually fear any fic ideas, as it'll take me a while to get through all of B5, and I avoid spoilers if at all possible. But hey, can I help it if the show's creator chooses to spoil me for several developments?

Love, of a less sarcastic kind,

Your headspace landlady

Dear muses:

Right then. Which of you fuckers gave me your hangover?

- Lily


Dear Lily:

We don't suppose going to bed at nine in the morning and waking up at three in the afternoon, on a windy, gross day might do it? Beyond that, blame the new boy.

Yrs.

- The muses


On that note, I seem to have acquired a Fitz muse (Eighth Doctor books). He's cranky and sarcastic, and his cigarettes make my pseudo-hangover feel sad.

He also looks like James Marsters, in my head. God help me, I'm assigning PBs to book characters.