Because it has been A Week (I'll let the capitalization speak for itself):
Comment to this post with an offer to write in any fandom that you or I have in common. I will answer with a prompt. Then, you will write me comment-fic, snippets, or whatever comes to mind. Now go post this in your own journal and demand fic of your very own! Make your
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:)
Chloe stared at herself in the broken compact mirror. That was probably what she deserved though, sticking the stupid thing in her back pocket. She had ended up sitting on it, and she hadn’t remembered that the trip to her father’s gravesite was more than an hour away. It had been so long since her mother had taken her there though.
And it was an even weirder experience riding there with her therapist. He was a nice guy, for an old person. Though she knew he wasn’t that much older than her mother. The sad thing was that her mother and the therapist would probably be a good match, with how screwed up her mother seemed at times she needed a therapist in her life; whether she dated him or just went to go talk to him.
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Thanks, hon. :)
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you're welcome, love ::hugs::
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