Jan. 14th, 2008

[identity profile] grumpy-sunshine.livejournal.com
It was a pretty normal morning. Sunshine got up, got dressed, and set to work in the early post-dawn quiet, shaping dough into the day's bread and considering which of her thousand oddly-named recipes to embark on today. She did seem to be thinking about Con a lot as she creamed the butter and brown sugar for Puritan's Secret Sins - she guessed she must be feeling homesick.

And then she heard the familiar tread of spiked boots and looked over her shoulder to smile at her laconic upstairs neighbor.

((Closed 'cause Fett will be embarrassed enough without an additional audience.))
[identity profile] sensiblesusan.livejournal.com
In hindsight, Susan felt that the clothing should have been some kind of tip-off.

But that was the strangest part: that she'd gotten up, washed, and dressed without noticing at all that she was lacing herself into a lacy, low-cut corset and slipping into a long, slinky black skirt slit nearly to the hip. On both sides. Never mind the pointed, stiletto-heeled, over-the-knee boots. Even Calvin and Hobbes's stunned puzzlement and flight as soon as breakfast was done (no lessons today) didn't seem to alert her to anything being amiss.

Nor did what happened when Cayce Pollard dropped by to say hello. )

((Feel free to bother/be alarmed by Susan. She's become what Psyche-mun once referred to as "the little black dress of Discworld femmeslash", so if your character is female, there's a very good chance that she'll get hit on.))
[identity profile] alcoholit.livejournal.com
((*tries not to rub it in that she's scored the first post of bad fanon day*))

Bernard sighed and plonked himself down on a nearby bench. Stupid park. Stupid world. Worst thing about it was, there was no Manny. He was reluctant enough to let him go off with Roweeeeeeeena, and now?! Now, he was stuck in a park all on his own, and had been for some time. All he could do was sigh, and pour more wine from his bottle into his glass. He was a mess, there was no doubt about it. The problem was, the only person who could get him out of this mess was Manny. It always had been. Fran had never managed that, all she did was stand by and watch as he drank himself into oblivion over and over, or even worse, join in. No, he needed Manny. He needed someone who's love he could test to the breaking point and still stand the test of a toastie-maker-meeting-hand incident. It was one of those childish things, really, he teased him simply because he didn't want to let him go.

He wasn't about to find him here, though, was he? So he had two choices, find someone else who could be his Manny, for how ever long he was stuck here, or keep drinking and drinking. Surprisingly, he opted for the first. Not that it meant much, whilst he sat here on the bench. But he did make an attempt by sticking his head over the fountain and smoothing his hand through his hair. He was scruffily adorable, really. He just needed someone like Manny to find the humanity in him again. Somewhere. Or at least someone to cut his hair.
[identity profile] anthony-crowley.livejournal.com
When I'm not with you
I think of you always
(I miss those long hot summer nights)
I miss you
When I'm not with you
Think of me always
Love you - love you

When Crowley woke up that morning he realized that he'd been in love with Aziraphale for centuries (1). This wasn't scary but perfectly natural for a demon to love his beautiful, perfect angel who was everything that was beautiful and perfect. Crowley thought for a while about how much he wanted to kiss him and do more even, but Aziraphale was so innocent and Crowley couldn't let himself be the reason the angel Fell. That would destroy him since he was so perfect.

Feeling so alone, Crowley wept tears of blood (2) until he remembered that his angel was just on the other side of the door. Getting up, he got dressed in his black designer suit with a white shirt and black tie and black snake skin boots (3) and put his black sunglasses on over his golden snake-like orbs.

Maybe today, he thought. Maybe today he could finally tell 'Zira how he felt. Gathering up his courage, he sauntered into the angel's room.

(1) Since the Agreement at least.
(2) Demons can't cry normal tears.
(3) Not really his feet.
[identity profile] palletkid.livejournal.com

Has anyone seen my girlfriend the girl I love best friend? Her name is Misty Waterflower and I can't find her. She's a beautiful redhead with curves in all the right places.

If you see her, please tell me. I miss her more than I can say.
[identity profile] john-adams-1776.livejournal.com
John peered critically at himself in the mirror: bright blue eyes, dark hair, proud chin. For some reason, he just couldn't get his cravat to look right this morning. Tom would have laughed. He always looked so nice. Even in shirtsleeves and with two days growth of beard...

But Tom wasn't here. Neither was Ben or even Rutledge who was an evil slave-owner but definitely had good fashion-sense and the youth, height, and looks to pull it off.

With a huff of annoyance, whether it was because of the cravat, his short stature, or because none of those men really understood what he was trying to do, the Boston lawyer left his temporary lodgings and walked down Main Street.
[identity profile] grimsirius.livejournal.com
Sirius had run off from Susan, but that didn't mean he'd given up. Instead, he'd gone to James, and they'd planned together until they found the perfect way to win Susan.

First, Sirius set up the stage in Tomorrowland, and found two electric guitars for himself and James. He connected the amps to the park speaker, got out the microphones, and began to strum a tune on the guitar that he'd written especially for Susan.

He nodded at James, and James began to play too.

"Susan, I know we were meant to be," Sirius shouted, and then began to sing.

[identity profile] always-confuzed.livejournal.com
((closed for now, but might open up later, so keep an eye out))

John didn't particularly notice that anything was strange when he woke up. He got dressed and went to get breakfast, waved to familiar faces as he walked by. If he'd been paying attention, he might have thought there was something amiss in the fact that he hadn't thought about Aeryn yet today. Instead there was one figure dominating his thoughts. A figure in black leather.

It's amazing what a man will do when he's in love. )
[identity profile] under-arrest-d.livejournal.com
Leon woke up that morning, and sniffed the air. He wasn't exactly himself - the mysical lion that resided in his soul was getting restless. It had been cooped up in this human for so long, allowing itself to sleep, not letting the human part of it know it was there. It had done a good job of hiding itself these past twenty years (when Leon was eight, the lion had decided to share its soul), and had even managed to hide itself from Count D, but now it was tired of this vessel.

He stretched in a feline like way, and sniffed the air again. There weren't many animals in the park, he could tell, but he could always go for some ducks. Or maybe he could hunt humans. That would be fun.
[identity profile] imyourking.livejournal.com
Tamaki was bored to death of this place. He could only pretend to be a happy clueless idiot for so long before he had to stop, and it had been so long since he had been laid. It was time to find himself a girlfriend.

He had found Rukia easily enough, and decided she was easy pray. After all, she was just a petit thing, and didn't look like she would stand up to him. He could jerk her around all that he wanted and she would never say a word because every woman ever fell in love with him. She was kind of ugly, especially compared to him - but who wasn't? It was really a pity about how many of the women in this park were ugly as hell.

Still, she would suit his purposes just fine.

"I've chose you to be my girlfriend," he said.
[identity profile] a-lonely-god.livejournal.com
((Bad Fannon Day closed RP for the Doctor, the Master, and at some point, Una.))

The Doctor woke up with the strangest feeling that something was wrong.

He got out of bed and dressed, scrutinizing himself in the mirror. Everything looked fine, the striped trousers, the jumper and the coat, the straight blond hair. It was all perfectly suitable, and he couldn’t quite make out what was bothering him.

Well, his celery did look a little wilted. )

((Warning: Badfic!sex. No graphic language, but still.))
[identity profile] thebadboyfriend.livejournal.com
It's a bright Californian day, like all the others. The weather is the same here as in Neptune - always sunny, the shadows and storms and early morning drizzle only in people's hearts.

I thought our story was epic, you know? )
[identity profile] treknobabbler.livejournal.com
Geordi woke up in his undisclosed location feeling sad. He'd dreamed the night before about sitting in Ten-Forward with Data. They'd both been drinking (although he, of course, was the only one feeling anything), and Data helped him back to his room. Just as he was drifting off, he felt Data's hand on his cheek. It was nice, to think that Data felt the same way ...

Okay, enough being depressed over his robot boyfriend who was literally incapable of love! Geordi was sure that fixing other things would help him fix his broken, angsty heart. He wandered outside and started walking, with no real destination in mind. Somewhere in this park, he knew, there was someone who needed his help. He might never find anyone to love him the way he loved Data, but at least he could feel useful.

((Open to anyone who wants MacGuyver!Geordi to magically repair your broken tech and angst about if you mention androids or data or emotion chips.))
[identity profile] sohot-imsmokin.livejournal.com
Hot Streak was depressed, but that wasn't anything new. His soul was tormented with the torment of his soul. He hadn't seen Richie or Virgil in so long, and he kind of missed them, but again, he had been too depressed lately to cause trouble. He only caused trouble because he wanted attention for once in his life. He only caused trouble because he wanted Richie's attention.

Richie. The light of his dark, tormented life. Just seeing Richie tormented his soul with an anguish of feelings. He loved Richie so much - his golden haired studmuffin - but Richie didn't even know of his tormented existence.

Tormented, Hot Streak walked down the street.

((Open RP. XD;))

EDIT: Love Letter to Richie )
[identity profile] creepyboy.livejournal.com
Tim silently stripped out of his Robin uniform. He'd gone for a patrol in the darkness. His roommates were lazy. He left his mask on, and covertly stripped Kon down, glaring at the female sharing their bed. Girls had cooties. And were icky. And possibly had teeth in their vaginas... HE wasn't positive on the last one. He really didn't like this one, because she lusted after his Nightwing.

"Kon." He nibbled Kon's neck.
[identity profile] scary-vampkitty.livejournal.com
Duzell wasn't really sure what was off when he woke up. He felt very small, but then again, he spent most of his time as a small kitten, so it really shouldn't have felt that weird.

He rolled over, and took in his surroundings, and then looked at his hands.

He gave out a strangled kind of cry once he saw how shiny and red they were, and then he rolled over to a mirror.

He had been turned into a tomato!
[identity profile] tomato-fiend.livejournal.com
Duckula had a good feeling about today, he really did. For once, he might strike it lucky, be famous, something. People might actually listen when he played, rather than be those uneducated philistines that ran at the thought of him singing. It wasn't like he was bad. In fact, he was FABULOUS. It's just nobody ever listened.

Well, today, they were going to listen. He spent a while fixing up microphones and speaker systems and things, all with his very own wings, and once he was satisfied, he thought he'd start off with playing his saxaphone and seeing if the people he talked to responded to the magical call of his music. So after a little fussing around, he kicked off with the saxaphone bit from Tuxedo Junction, as it was rather appropriate for his attire, and it was flawless. Not just normal good, but he hit every single note, despite his obvious lack of opposable thumbs and lips. He was spectacular.

As long as there were no corpses around, he might actually pull this off.


A world of laughter. A world of tears. A world of hope. A world of fears.

December 2016

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