A/N: Hi, I swear we're - I mean I'm! - not crazy. Right Sandra?

Right, Trillion.

Okay, so I got bored in writing class (it's so constricting in school), so I started talking to myself on a piece of paper, then I decided to post it here. I'm Trillion.

I'm Sandra, the sainer one.

So, enjoy our - I mean my! - notes.

What do you want to write?

I don't know.

Yes, you do. You just need a prompt.

Yeah, right.

Just listen, will you?

I kinda have to – you're me. I'm talking to myself.

Exactly. Now let's get to work.

But I have no ideas.

You could write a fanfic, but make it seem like it's not one.

Yeaaaaaah, but I have no ideas for that either.

Liar! You always have fanifc ideas!

But not for school. Five paragraphs, 8-10 sentences each, and minimum dialogue.

You're screwed.

We're screwed.


I neeeeeeeeed an idea.

No use whining over it.

Quiet you!

Just get to work!

But I have no ideas!

You're just lazy.

Yes, yes I am.

That was supposed to make you feel bad and get you to action.

Blaaaaaaaaaah, I like coffee.

That's not even relevant.

I don't care.

You should.

Piss off.

Can't. I'm you.

Fuck you.



Yes, I see your point.

Thank you. It's good to that we can see eye to eye.

Especially considering we're the same person.


Now le


How did you cut me off?!

Same person, same body.

But y




I hat

Colin Morgan is hot.

So true.

Let's stop talking now; class is almost over.