19 - More potassium than DMil's banana
*waves to everyone who is still around*
It's great to still see people prompting and writing :) We may have lost a few people on the way but we also had some new intake. Thanks for keeping this place alive!
Let's hope that conference season and the next election will help to pick up the pace a bit.
The ususal stuff:
1) All fills for prompts of ( Read more... )
It's great to still see people prompting and writing :) We may have lost a few people on the way but we also had some new intake. Thanks for keeping this place alive!
Let's hope that conference season and the next election will help to pick up the pace a bit.
The ususal stuff:
1) All fills for prompts of ( Read more... )
Crack, angst, make up sex, whatever.
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Then
The bright red slash of lipstick is the first thing he notice about her. And then he notices her bright red dress and how she's watching Clegg with the same hunger as the entire nation seems to. Someone steps between the two of them, and in that split second she's gone and he's pressing the flesh with everyone he's suppose to.
The next time he sees her, he's standing on the platform in his constituency and she's changed subtly. Her lipstick is darker, and the dress she's wearing is a deep blue and she's looking at him with hunger. And with something else he can't place. He's hustled out of the town hall and into a car as soon as the results have been announced ( ... )
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Now
"I HATE YOU!" he rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate his incipient headache. He was also scrambling to figure out exactly who was screaming at him and why they were doing so at such a god-awful hour in the morning. The voice was slightly muffled, but too high-pitched to be an angry George and Nick tended to slip into one of his other languages when his emotions ran high.
He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and wished again that he was sharing his bed with someone (and preferably someone who either didn't see Britannia or was better at handling her than he was) and then the modality in the voice registered.
"What's wrong now, Britannia?"
"Caledonia is going to leave me, and it's all your fault." She was holding a document he recognised from his red box of the night before. He flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He counted to 10 in his head, and wondered if Clement Attlee had had as much a problem with Britannia's abandonment issues, or if this was somehow Blair's fault. He ( ... )
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