005, Sweet, Harriet Ficlets
Title: Sweetest Revenge
Author: poisontearss
Word Count: 106
Prompt:005, Sweet
Characters, if any: Sweet
Rating: G
004: Sweet Ficlet: Sweetest Revenge
He knew that he had a special power.
Song and dance. Who would've thought that something that was normally so joyfull and sweet could be evil? Sweet loved it.
As a man he had been ridiculed on stage--he was told he had no talent. He was laughed off of Broadway; his director had
it out for him.
So, when the demon offered him a chance, Sweet took it. Now he could be the Broadway Star that he always yearned to be....
even if he never got any credit. For now, he could get revenge.
A song and a dance, to burn you in hell...
~FIN~
Title: Your Type
Author: poisontearss
Word Count:
Prompt: 005, Harriet
Characters(Paring, if any) Harriet/Doyle
Rating; G
"I have a guy for you." Harriet groaned, and wanted to run from her roommate Dawn's words. "He's just your type, too Harriet."
Harriet groaned. "You say that about ALL the guys you set me up with, Dawn. And look at them--all of them were loosers. Big fat zeros." She groaned, recalling her last blind date, an accountant who spent most of the night talking about numbers and mathematic problems. Dawn meant well, she really wanted to see Harriet paired up and happy...but...
Harry, as she was nicknamed, just couldn't find that special someone. The one who made her heart beat. Most of the guys she went out with either talked too much, so much that she could barely get a word in...or they didn't talk at all, and let her do the talking which was worse. She was tired of the meat market and wouldn't mind finding that special guy to settle down with.
"Come on. He's a third grade elementry school teacher." Dawn wheedled.
Harry smirked. "So, he'll spend most of the night telling me about how he plays with playdough and teaches times tables. Oh, what fun."
Dawn threw Harry a shirt that she had asked to borrow. "Doyle is different." She insisted. "If we weren't such good friends, I'd go out with him."
"So, go out with him." Harry glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "What's he like?"
"Well...why don't you wait and see?" Dawn suggested. "He'll be here in about twenty minutes."
Harriet sighed. She wasn't looking forward to this....this date that was sure to be a disaster. Just as soon as she got ready, fixing her hair and eyeing herself in the mirror, the doorbell rang. Dawn had answered. Harriet drew in a deep breath and grabbed her purse. She walked into the hallway, where Dawn was talking to a rather handsome looking man in a leather jacket.
Well, at least he's cute. That's a plus. Harriet thought with a smile. "Um, hi." She greeted.
"There she is!" Dawn turned. "Harry, I want you to meet Alan Francis Doyle."
Doyle looked uncomfortable. "Just call me Doyle." He said in an Irish accent. Harry felt a shiver run through her when Doyle spoke. She had a weakness for accents, and this was a sure sign. She saw Dawn giving her a knowing look and ignored her friend. "Hi. Just call me Harry."
Doyle grinned at her. "Hi, Harry." He said, and she felt another little shiver running through her. "Ready to go?"
"Sure am." Harry said. Doyle nodded and bid goodbye to Dawn. Harry turned, and winked. "Don't wait up." She said.
For once, Dawn had actually found a guy that was definitly her "type".
Author: poisontearss
Word Count: 106
Prompt:005, Sweet
Characters, if any: Sweet
Rating: G
004: Sweet Ficlet: Sweetest Revenge
He knew that he had a special power.
Song and dance. Who would've thought that something that was normally so joyfull and sweet could be evil? Sweet loved it.
As a man he had been ridiculed on stage--he was told he had no talent. He was laughed off of Broadway; his director had
it out for him.
So, when the demon offered him a chance, Sweet took it. Now he could be the Broadway Star that he always yearned to be....
even if he never got any credit. For now, he could get revenge.
A song and a dance, to burn you in hell...
~FIN~
Title: Your Type
Author: poisontearss
Word Count:
Prompt: 005, Harriet
Characters(Paring, if any) Harriet/Doyle
Rating; G
"I have a guy for you." Harriet groaned, and wanted to run from her roommate Dawn's words. "He's just your type, too Harriet."
Harriet groaned. "You say that about ALL the guys you set me up with, Dawn. And look at them--all of them were loosers. Big fat zeros." She groaned, recalling her last blind date, an accountant who spent most of the night talking about numbers and mathematic problems. Dawn meant well, she really wanted to see Harriet paired up and happy...but...
Harry, as she was nicknamed, just couldn't find that special someone. The one who made her heart beat. Most of the guys she went out with either talked too much, so much that she could barely get a word in...or they didn't talk at all, and let her do the talking which was worse. She was tired of the meat market and wouldn't mind finding that special guy to settle down with.
"Come on. He's a third grade elementry school teacher." Dawn wheedled.
Harry smirked. "So, he'll spend most of the night telling me about how he plays with playdough and teaches times tables. Oh, what fun."
Dawn threw Harry a shirt that she had asked to borrow. "Doyle is different." She insisted. "If we weren't such good friends, I'd go out with him."
"So, go out with him." Harry glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "What's he like?"
"Well...why don't you wait and see?" Dawn suggested. "He'll be here in about twenty minutes."
Harriet sighed. She wasn't looking forward to this....this date that was sure to be a disaster. Just as soon as she got ready, fixing her hair and eyeing herself in the mirror, the doorbell rang. Dawn had answered. Harriet drew in a deep breath and grabbed her purse. She walked into the hallway, where Dawn was talking to a rather handsome looking man in a leather jacket.
Well, at least he's cute. That's a plus. Harriet thought with a smile. "Um, hi." She greeted.
"There she is!" Dawn turned. "Harry, I want you to meet Alan Francis Doyle."
Doyle looked uncomfortable. "Just call me Doyle." He said in an Irish accent. Harry felt a shiver run through her when Doyle spoke. She had a weakness for accents, and this was a sure sign. She saw Dawn giving her a knowing look and ignored her friend. "Hi. Just call me Harry."
Doyle grinned at her. "Hi, Harry." He said, and she felt another little shiver running through her. "Ready to go?"
"Sure am." Harry said. Doyle nodded and bid goodbye to Dawn. Harry turned, and winked. "Don't wait up." She said.
For once, Dawn had actually found a guy that was definitly her "type".