Karma Laundrette

Yeah, you read that right. This just hit me this morning, so while I drank my coffee and turned MSNBC to a dull roar, this came out. (I'm leaving early in the morning for NYC, so I won't be around until Monday. Have a good weekend, everyone!)

Title: Northern Lights.
Who?: Sarah/Edward, General Audiences
Huh?: What if Edward had tried love before Bella?
What?: A series of letters from Edward to the woman who holds his esteem and ardor.

( To Sarah, my beloved, dulcet darling... )

Here's my entry for the lynnevitational, coming just under the wire. General disclaimer: I make no money from this, all for a lark, la la la.

Title: Three Hundred Sixty-Six Degrees
Author: Stoney
Fandom/Pairing Spike/Dru pre-BtvS thru Spike solo in A:tS, Not Fade Away
Rating: Mature audience due to language and vampire feeding habits and casual drug use
Summary: Spike and Dru unwittingly inspire some of the great poets/musicians as they flit and feed throughout the last half of the 19th Century.
A/N: Written for the lynnevitational with terrific beta work by sunnyd_lite and moosesal and musical reminders (Like Pete Townshend's penchant for fighting) from my sister, Beth. It would be kickass if anyone could catch all the references.

( It was Drusilla who first came up with the idea of collecting poets... )

Title: Speed-Chav Face Off, aka Are You Calling Me A Pikey?
Author: Stoney
Fandom: Little Britain/Catherine Tate Show crossover (PG-13)
Summary: Vicky Pollard and Lauren Cooper. Chav Death Match. Two will enter the cage, but only one can win. But look at my face, am I bovvered?
A/N: If you don't know who either of these characters are, please catch up with the times. You'll thank me later. (YouTube has loads of clips.) Also, massive thanks to gingerpig for Britpicking this for me. All mistakes are mine, feel free to pipe up if you find a mistake, but you are well bad if you call me out, oh my god. (Hahaha, I love feedback in all forms. Gimmie!)

( Click for Fi - Have I Finished Though? I ain't finished. *pause* Fic. )

What, you all have lives today? Sorry for the twice in one day rule breakage. Wait, NO I'M NOT! I have itchy fingers and no ideas.

Won't someone think of the children give me the most cracktastic prompt you can think of? I can't promise I'll write them all, but I'll give it the ol' college try. Star Wars, Buffy, Angel, PotC, Adult Swim um... Scrubs. Any and all.

GO! *passes everyone muffins*

bastardsnow

"Red Headed Step-Child of Crossovers - Fortunately, A Part of This Story Contains Angel and a Lightsaber." <- twenty points to those who get the reference

Scrubs, AtS, Star Wars

****

Angel shifted in the hard plastic chair, kicking his half-hidden battle axe accidentally. The kid in the rough brown robe sitting across from him stared. He really hoped Gunn was okay; this fluorescent light made his skin look paler than normal and his highlights just looked harsh. A pretty Dominican (or was she Puerto Rican?) nurse asked him some general questions about what he had eaten previously, if he had any known allergies, and what the hell was that, a tooth sticking out of his shoulder?

He mumbled some answers, his eyes tracking two guys skipping down the hallway. Both were wearing scrubs, one in blue, the other in green. The nurse ran off after them. Angel had second thoughts about this place. He knew they needed to spread out their hospital stays to keep questions down, but skipping? Skipping doctors? True, one of them had fantastic hair. He wondered briefly what products the blue doctor used.

"Nice axe."

The kid in the brown robe - what, was he into D&D? - nodded with his chin.

"Uh, thanks. It's a costume." Angel winced.

"Yeah, so's this." The kid pulled out a weird flashlight. It made a really cool vvvoooom noise. And sliced the plastic chair next to the kid in half. He was definitely going to have to put Wesley to finding one of those.

"Your friend hurt?" This kid was really into intense staring.

"Uh, yeah. What are you here for?"

The kid shrugged. "Got sent here. I'm waiting for Obi-Wan to show up. He's the only one the council trusts. Also, I think this is some sort of limbo while I'm being put into a tin can."

"Riiiight."

The kid sighed and scowled. "I want to be back with Padmè. She's so beautiful. She's not at all like sand. I hate sand."

"You hate...sand?"

"Mmm hmm. It's coarse and irritating. She's not."

"That's, uh, that's a good thing. Loving someone because they're not irritating. Like... sand."

"Do you have anyone? Loving is the very essence of what a Jedi stands for."

Okay, so this kid was seriously into his Dungeons and Dragons. Or whatever they were calling it this decade. "Uh- no. Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"Look, can we just sit here? Like in an elevator. I don't want small talk. Just look at the numbers, okay?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Bad? Let's see. She killed me, sent me to a hell dimension, brought me back, let me drink her blood, oh, and was over two hundred years younger than me. The music she made me listen to! Did I mention the killing and sending me to a hell dimension? Because that's the important part. Oh, and if we're ever 'together' I go homicidal. So there's that."

"I killed a bunch of babies and kids so she wouldn't die in childbirth, then suspected her of turning me into the Jedi Council, then I tried to kill her with my bare hands. So my best friend cut off my legs and left me on lava crust where I burned up. I really have no idea how I got here."

"Yeah, but she killed me. I'm pretty sure I mentioned that part."

The skipping doctors came back down the hall, both with fudge-cicles. Angel was sure now that coming to this hospital was a bad idea.

"I had to pretend my wife wasn't my wife, because Jedi aren't allowed to marry. AND I KILLED HER." The kid's eyes were beginning to glow red. Angel fingered his axe.

"Okay, kid, okay. That's pretty harsh, what with your best friend cutting off your legs. So, what are those, then?" Angel pointed at the kid's legs with his axe. To make a point. Both of them.

"I --. Huh."

The kid seized up in a rictus and began to glow. "Where's... Padmè?" He choked out each word, which sounded deep. Like a black dude who's name Angel couldn't put a finger on. Why was he thinking of that Disney movie with the lions?

"Nooooooooooo!" The kid practically shrieked, and disappeared like in a fire implosion. Huh. Still only the fourth weirdest thing Angel had seen today.
**********


( Prompt #2 - Gunn and Turk discuss their bosses )

Got all the prompts I can handle now, thanks!

This is just something I need to work through, evidently. Like grief. Or a basket of fresh, hot garlic bread.

Title: Double Truckin' The Tricky Two [2/?]
Author: Stoney
Rating: Not meant for humans and some jellyfish
Fandoms: Squidbillies/HARRY effin' POTTER. You heard me.
Summary: Early's boy Rusty has magic in 'im. Some fancy pants school sends him an acceptance letter. SQUIDS.
Spoilers: Only for Book 6 of Harry Potter, but not like me telling you that Dumbledore died on page 596. It's not a spoiler like that.
A/N: It helps if you know that Squidbillies is an Adult Swim show about a rednecked squid family, with narration. And it helps if you can hear that voice in your head. Or you know... if you don't hear any voices in your head, that's... that's probably better off in the long run. OH MY GOD. Just... CRACK ahead. As in, in my mouth, being exhaled.

( Double Truckin' The Tricky Two - Part Two )

Merciful Zeus. I ain't right.

Title: Well, Why On Earth Do You Think They Called Him The "Jolly" Green Giant?
Author: Stoney
Pairing/Rating: Jolly Green Giant/Incredible Hulk, PG with innuendo
A/N: I like the overwhelmingly ridiculous idea of referring to myself as an "author" for this. Hahahahaha! GOOD GOD, THE JOLLY GREEN GIANT IS FROM THE VALLEY, HELLO!
250 words. 250 very wrong words.

( No, really. What is WRONG with me?? )

Happy Birthday, Jess!! Oh, how I adore you. I have sat in a pub and discussed life, living, and whatnot with you, and did my level best to not crawl into your lap and play with your magnificent hair. I'm so proud to call you friend. I come bearing gifts of fic, while lame, is heartfelt and meant to put a smile on your face. And, um, finish my assignment for your Scottish Ficathon. I heart you, Jess!

Author: Stoney321
Title: What I Did On My Summer Vacation, By Andrew Wells, [Part 2 of 2] written for entrenous88's Scottish Ficathon
Rating: General
Pairing: Nothing sexual, Andrew, Jonathan, Sean Connery, assorted Scotsmen
Summary: While in Mehico - on the lam from Evil!Willow - Andrew regales Jonathan with ribald tales of his adventures abroad the summer after graduation to prove that Timothy Dalton was the best James Bond. Warning: burros. Also: Every possible Sci-Fi geek fanboy reference I could think of is crammed in here. JOY!
Disclaimer: I make no money from writing this stuff, which on one hand, bothers me. Because who doesn't want extra money? On the other, it's fanfiction, and possibly not very good, so I have the satisfaction of being paid what I'm worth. I've also been free-basing fish-tranquilizers and someone should call me an ambulance. Thanks to shuckit_trebek for loaning me "Connery Shpeak."

Part One, if you missed it. AND YOU MISSED A LOT.

( Cleek for Feek! )