We've all gone crazy lately.

I keep waking up with "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" stuck in my head. It's creeping me the fuck out.

Also, today I really need to work on my Irish history paper and not any of the SEVEN STORIES (7!) I have open.

But!

--The one that's finished except for a blowjob!
--The one that's depressing but then there are puddlejumpers!
--The, um, "Stories for Boys" one (yes, yes, I know, *shame*)!
--Two words: band AU!

...and some others. Um. Someone wants to write my paper for me, right?

Sweet freedom whispered in my ear: you're a butterfly! (Butterfly!) And butterflies are free to fly! Fly away, high away, bye bye...

AHHHH!

Okay, just one quick fic question...

...and then I am showering going to the library, I swear.

On the left you have: ages where you make up elaborate fantasy stories in your head and play pretend and run around thwacking your friends with sticks.

On the right you have: ages where you're starting to feel the first stirrings of sexual awakening, (mostly) innocent and vague, yes, but there.

In the wacky Venn diagram that is this story, where do those two circles intersect? How old are you?

Remember: also, you are a boy.

I was going to say 12, because at 12 I think I was still semi-convinced that I could still find the wardrobe to Narnia, but also I was crushing on Harrison Ford like mad and cutting his picture out of magazines and stuff.

Anyway, I would love to hear your thoughts.

(And sticks are still TOTALLY the best toys ever, OMG.)