(no subject)

[amfiguree]

hmm. it's certainly been a while. gacked from xoverau. and hey, spread the news.

If you comment to this post with the first paragraph of a fic, I'll answer each comment with a second paragraph that continues said fic, and so on. If other people than the original writer want to continue from the paragraph I write in response, feel free--we'll each just go off into parallel threads.

I would be competent to continue fics in these fandoms:

Popslash (including BSB, Nsync, sparkly girls, blue, Eminem?)
Harry Potter
Lotrips
Lotrfps
X-men
Smallville (probably)
Charmed (fourth or fifth season?)
School Of Rock! (heh)
Moulin Rouge
American Idol (*snerk* season 2)
MuLan (don't ask... come to think of it, i can do most disney movies. *cheesy grin*)

and also? feel free to throw original characters in the mix.

Comments

[sunflwrsinuroom.livejournal.com]

Hunched over, Orlando inspects a line of ants marching through a crack; escaping, however unwanted. If he were less intoxicated, he's sure there would be some symbolism in that.

"Stay," he repeats for what could be the three hundredth time this evening. "Stay with me. Please?" Arms around Viggo's neck again, Orlando looks at him pleadingly.

Viggo simply reaches and retrieves Orlando's key, showing no sign of acknowledgment. One arm still around him, Viggo somehow manages to scoot them both so he can battle the lock and Orlando's swaying motions simultaneously.

Orlando is still mumbling under his breath, sometimes at a volume and clarity almost intelligible. Viggo maneuver's Orlando to his bed, sets him down, and proceeds to removes his shoes, socks and is looking increasingly like he might go for the trousers.

"Stay Stay Stay Stay Stay," Orlando singsongs.

[amfiguree.livejournal.com]

Viggo looks tired when Orlando gets to see his face properly, like someone who's been on the carousel too long for it to still hold the slightest degree of amusement.

Orlando's silenced by a look, although it tickles him to think Viggo might practice that look on Henry, sometimes. So many parallels can be drawn from that, and Orlando thinks every single one can be damned to hell, because Viggo's right here, in his house, helping him with his clothes and--

"Fuck, Orli, you're wasted," Viggo mutters this into Orlando's neck, his arms fighting to break Orlando's grip where his fingers are curled around Viggo's neck. Viggo's fingers lack even more conviction than his voice.