(no subject)

[im-sorry-dave.livejournal.com]

the song drabble meme

It's pretty simple and fun, folks. This is how this works!

( 01 ) Have a playlist ready! Don't use all your songs--try and narrow it down a little.
( 02 ) Let everyone know how many songs you're working with. Also, which characters you would be willing to write about.
( 03 ) Others tag your post, picking a character or pairing or friendship or familial relationship or whatever, and then choose a number from your list.
( 04 ) Write a drabble related to that song, using that/those character(s)!

Take as long as you need; there's no time limits here!
And here's some helpful HTML to make it pretty!

<b>Characters:</b> -Name || (<lj site="livejournal.com" user="username"></lj> ) -Name || (<lj site="livejournal.com" user="username"></lj> ) <b>Number of Tracks:</b>

1.0
2.0

Comments

[tempus-mutantur.livejournal.com]

Characters: -Dave Strider (AU) || (tempus_mutantur )
Number of Tracks: 556

[gottakilldaves]

Jackdo and Pantsless, 314

[tempus-mutantur.livejournal.com]

it isn't very extreme
just kind of herp and sad

pink and jackdo - (314) welcome to the new extreme

Jack Noir was the living embodiement of humanity's ills. He was cruel, abusive, self-absorbed and utterly intolerant. By all means, his death should have brought vindication. It was a victory, goddammit. But as the doomed man gasped for air in the sand, insides spilling onto his precious beach, Dave realized he felt none of this.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Jack Noir couldn't die a hero; it cheapened everything he ever fought against. It wasn't even revenge anymore, just cold-blooded murder. And if he hadn't acted so selflessly...

Dave couldn't even watch the man he'd hated with every fiber of his being draw his last breath. He was gone before any of them even realized.

[notjelly]

strawberries and camille 450

strawberries and vriska 39

[tempus-mutantur.livejournal.com]

strawberries and camille - (450) here it goes again

You get sick a lot.

Okay, understatement of the fucking century. You've probably spent half your existence with some kind of illness, ranging from sniffles to influenza to pneumonia. Last one's basically a yearly tradition -- the hospital staff got sick of your face pretty damn quickly.

You know when it's coming, that uneasy calm before the feverish, vomitous storm, so you know when to retreat into your room and burrow under the blankets. Passing out in the living room would be unbelievably lame.

Constantly hitting Camille up for tea and soup is probably somewhat lame too, but you don't give a fuck. In your book she's awesome company and you swear her micro-meals speed up the healing process. Or you just really, really like soup. Whatever. Both reasons are totally valid and it's not like you call her every single time you come down with something.

Just. More often than not.

[notjelly]

She will always make soup for you bb :)

[tempus-mutantur.livejournal.com]

he appreciates it 8,) and the shapeshifting is coo'

[memorymodus.livejournal.com]

Jade and Pinkie, 220

Orange/Jade/Pink, 32 :|