#p: laura

[haroldjamesbuchanan]

Good Grief ll James & Laura

If James was annoyed at being stuck behind a smelly fern and with the Whacko-in-Chief of the Witness all night, it also had its perks. Sort of. Better than his mother, right? (Mostly because he’d spent an hour trying to catch her eye and she kept ignoring him. Which would be hurtful, if he cared. But he didn’t, so they were good.)

It just happened to be coincidence that he was out of his seat at the same time that she was walking back from the bar. Pretending he didn’t see her would have been rude—she was all in red, like a glo-bat out of hell—it wasn’t like he was waylaying her or anything...

“No date on your arm?” he asked blandly by way of greeting. “Is Starke off with someone his own age?”

[leonsolis]

Kisses For Ms. President || Laura & Leon

The television in the hospital gift shop was tuned to CNN, and Leon had to stop himself from craning his neck to boggle at it. Irrationally, he was afraid someone might sneak up on him and ask, Admiring your handiwork, are you?

People had stopped sneaking looks in his direction anyway. The hospital was crawling with politicians, most of whom were fortuitously wearing black already. Leon tried to focus, instead, on the rack of teddy bears, all of whom wearing different bastardisations of a Red Cross uniform. Still, their benignity was a perfect cover to hide behind.

A new flurry of whispers from the general direction of the cash counter made him look around. He noticed the cloud of perfume first, then the wispy halo of golden hair. The Secretary of State swanned in through the door, a tragic figure of grieving.

“Oh Jesus, you’re here,” said Leon, the way someone might gratefully seize on a familiar face. He lowered his voice as he added only for Laura’s benefit, “No black robes? You look real weighed down by that scythe you’re carrying.”

[fogghorned-blog]

“ don’t run. ”

“Who’s running? Not me, no sir, no way, not today, not any day. Foggy doesn’t run.” Knife hands! She had knife hands, knife hands! God, just when he’d thought he’d seen everything. “I’m staying right where I am.” 

[maxtardelli]

@lauramxreno

The bar was rather slow for a Friday night, but, since Max had just gotten a picture of his daughter eating her dinner, sent by his babysitter, the bartender was in a good mood, so to speak. But then again, when wasn’t he? Despite the problems with his ex-wife, Max was actually pretty much always in a good mood. He was easy-going and a tremendous flirt, but that didn’t mean that he would act on it. With his last relationship being a disaster and his ex deciding to make his life a living hell, Max knew that there was no room for another person in his life, especially since Jackie had decided to also make the lives of his past girlfriends a living hell, too, this wasn’t something that he would like for someone else, so he flirted--and he flirted a lot. He just didn’t date. Some casual sex here and there, but no string attached. It was the best for everyone.

He saw her entering the bar and offered her a smile, before leaning over the bar top, offering her a smile. Tall, curvy and well-dressed, he couldn’t remember the last time that a woman like her had entered this bar. Not that it was a ratchet bar, it’s just... people didn’t dress this nicely to go there. But then again, she could have come from work.

“What can I get you tonight, beautiful?”

[ghostsonthebarricade]

ugh I feel so shitty today...

someone should message me

[ghostsonthebarricade]

Why watch a show that I dislike but am expected to watch when I can do literally anything else with my time. 

[ghostsonthebarricade]

I've been so disappointed all weekend that I didn't get a chance to attend Connecticon. (My favorite voice actors were hosting a panel there!) But now that I've heard about the trainwreck that Dashcon turned out to be, I feel a little bit better. No convention at all is better than being scammed out of my money. 

[ghostsonthebarricade]

I just played a game with myself where I kept refreshing the deviantART front page and I could only take a lick of my ice cream if there were no ponies on an entire page.

My ice cream melted all over me.