(no subject)

I have the best hair in the whole world.

Even when nostalgia cuts it, it looks good.

Shame about the rest of me.


But seriously, my hair rocks. It's dark and soft and thick and goth. I *heart* my hair.

(no subject)

I will not start making videos.
I will not start making videos.
I will not start making videos.
I will not start making videos.
I will not start making videos.


apart from that... I need Krycek/Spike. Also, any combo of Spike/Legolas/Draco (the pretty!). I may have to write them.

I have exams, goddamnit! Stop bunnying!!

(no subject)

hate lj. lj is not posting. or something.

there's a fic I read where the twist was that Alex Krycek turns out to actually be Samantha. the scary thing is that I thought of that a couple of days ago while reading a different fic.

oh, and this is just so beautiful, I had to share. the box was given to Krycek first, obviously.

At first, the contents didn't register. The smell of mold permeated his senses, and he looked into the box uncomprehending. There was a rust pitted machete, a wristwatch, and lying beneath them...

Mulder turned and vomited.

...Bones. There were bones. Bones with pieces of dead flesh on them, the ends of them splintered and broken, rife with deeply hacked indentations.