Comments | orange_crushed: HOMECOMING DANCE COMMENT FICATHON

orange_crushed

HOMECOMING DANCE COMMENT FICATHON

Jan 10, 2013 22:17

I KNOW WHERE EVERYONE IS TONIGHT
THEY'RE ON TUMBLR
TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH THEY MISS LJ
WELL LET'S DO THIS

I OFFICIALLY INVITE YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW TO A MULTIFANDOM COMMENT FICATHON, RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. We're talking Doctor Who, Sherlock, Elementary, Harry Potter, Avengers, Marvel and DC, Justified, Star Trek, Veronica Mars, Secret Diary of ( Read more... )

comment ficathon, emotions, fiction, ficathon, sensations

Leave a comment

Back to all threads

orange_crushed January 11 2013, 18:26:46 UTC

Broken, bent. / secret diary of a call girl/true blood + crossover + hannah/eric + / Part 1/??

It's not always easy to spot them, but it's not impossible, either. Human men stare down her shirtfront or try to sneak a peek up her skirt. Human men get sweaty and anxious and loudly drunk at parties like these. Even the rich ones. Especially the bloody rich ones. But there's a man in the corner tonight only glancing at necks and exposed thighs, places where the big veins throb just under the surface. He keeps standing perfectly still in the doorway without leaning on it. He's lean but broad-shouldered, perfectly chiseled, if you like that sort, Hannah thinks, defensively. She's been looking at him without looking, because every time she sees him, he's staring her way. She's already comically underdressed, and it's making her shiver. She's freezing when his eyes cross her skin. Sexual hypothermia. Is that a thing? There's a woman with him, too; a blonde, who keeps smiling fakely at people and setting her drink down and going to get a new ( ... )

mylittlepwny January 11 2013, 20:38:11 UTC

I GOT THE EMAIL ABOUT THIS IN THE MORNING BEFORE I WENT TO CLASS

AND I HAVE BEEN SAVING IT ALL DAY

LIKE THE LAST PIECE OF CHOCOLATE CAKE

AND I HAVEN'T EVEN READ IT YET

BUT YOU ARE ALREADY WRONG

BECAUSE IT IS SO CLEARLY BETTER THAN I COULD EVEN HOPE FOR

AND YOU NEED TO SHUT UP AND BE QUIET I AM ABOUT TO READ IT I LOVE IT I LOVE YOU SHUT IT

mylittlepwny January 11 2013, 22:14:51 UTC

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

No, really. OH MY GOD. Oh my god she tries not to fixate on shoulders and icicle bright eyes and what's his type YOU'RE HIS TYPE are you fucking serious with this orange REALLY SHE'S HIS TYPE REALLY and sexual hypothermia ugh I love you so much I love this I love every possibility lingering between his cold skin and her warmth and

this is just a suggestion

but I think you should make this pt 1/300

again

just a suggestion

boxed January 11 2013, 22:44:24 UTC

+1000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 this is maybe the greatest thing I have ever read

orange_crushed January 14 2013, 03:54:32 UTC

Broken, bent. / secret diary of a call girl/true blood + crossover + hannah/eric + / Part 2/??They meet at a hotel bar. One of a million dimly-lit, nondescript places with dark leather sofas and darker wood and bored bartenders serving their fiftieth martini and a handful of worn-looking people looking to trade up. It's not long after dark. She was a little surprised by that, to be honest. Eight o'clock seems a bit early. Like undead breakfast-time. Hardly the magic hour for this sort of thing. She arrived early anyway, touched up her face in the bathroom. When she comes out, the energy in the bar has shifted slightly. When she first arrived, every man in the room stared her up and down- the sleek red dress and sleeker lipstick, the twist of curls at the base of her neck. Old Hollywood was her best guess for this one. What tempts a man older than the classics? But now she moves between the tables unnoticed. Every human in the bar is watching him ( ... )

orange_crushed January 14 2013, 03:55:52 UTC

Broken, bent. / secret diary of a call girl/true blood + crossover + hannah/eric + / Part 3/??

Duty ends up being another posh party in a townhouse with higher ceilings than Westminster Cathedral. This time, she's one of the few humans in the room. She sips a wine spritzer and makes small talk with one of them while her date slips away into the crowd. There are bite marks on the girl's neck, and a cheerfully dazed expression on her heart-shaped face. She shakes Hannah's hand and points out a squat vampire in a three-piece suit.

"I'm Walter's," says the girl. There is really not enough alcohol in the world for this. "Are you hungry? There's some ceviche going around."

"And who," says someone behind her, "might you be?" Hannah turns with some smart remark on her lips, some witty side-step, and the words falter and die in her throat. There is a vampire behind her, one with dark eyes that retreat endlessly. There's no bottom to them, no end. Fathomless. She croaks out her nom de guerre and he takes her by the hand, brings her wrist up ( ... )

mylittlepwny January 14 2013, 17:45:05 UTC

"Belle." Christ. That name in his mouth sends a shiver across her shoulders. "The pleasure's all mine." He stands and extends a hand for her to take. She puts her hand in his- cool but not cold, and surprisingly gentle- and he draws her to her feet in one motion. He's considerably taller than she remembers. She's eye-to-eye with his collarbones, until he inclines his head.

It's like you stole Alexander Skarsgard's most endearingly Eric body language AND THREW IT ALL IN HERE and somehow the inclining his head part is the sexiest fucking thing I JUST WANT THEIR TONGUES IN EACH OTHER'S MOUTHS TELL ME THAT IS NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK.

"Jesus Christ!" She slams her hands on her knees. "On a bloody bike!"

"Distracting, yes," he agrees. "But not nearly so pleasant to look at."

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS THIS MORNING BUT FLAILING THEM ABOUT MY FACE WHILE I MAKE NOISES UNRECOGNIZABLE AS HUMAN SEEMS LIKE THE WAY TO GO?

orange_crushed February 23 2013, 22:27:43 UTC

Broken, bent. / secret diary of a call girl/true blood + crossover + hannah/eric + / Part 4/??

She endures the rest of the ride in silence: comfortable or at least indifferent on his end, and frosty on hers. Thankfully, the hotel's not far, so she doesn't have to fling herself out into traffic solely to bring the night to a close. He pulls up just past the valet parking stand and idles the engine. She ought to smile at him and compose herself. Triple billing. But she doesn't want to. She wants to crawl home and lock her fucking doors and sleep with the lights on. For a fifth of a second she considers calling Ben, and the sheer patheticness of that thought just makes her yank the seatbelt off and open the door with a jerk. North- whatever his real name is- looks mildly surprised.

"Are you-" he starts, but she's already got one heel down on pavement.

"Mr. North, I'm a whore," she says. He blinks. "But if you only need bait-" she gets out and leans back down to look at his face. His expression is still placid, but she could swear ( ... )

Back to all threads