doodle - Frank/Gerard
364 words, inspired from the 31.12.08 prompt at 
we_are_cities.
Frank/Gerard, pg.
tardcud read through it and corrected a few things. Only because I show her everything I write, she is awesome like that. I don't really read through what I write, so all faults and badly phrased sentences are mine.
I only read it when I've posted it, and then I read it until I think it's so bad I'm surprised I ever put it up.
I don't think I can stop smoking, Frank said. Well, I replied slowly. I don't think you should either. It didn't seem like he had heard me when he went on with explaining that this girl he liked wanted him to stop patting on those ugly cigarettes because it was so disgusting and that he probably was really bad in bed because of it. But he had to stop, he told me sharply, sipping a little more of his cheap wine. He had to stop, because she was probably right and even though they wouldn't last long they would last a little while (maybe a week, he said, if he was going to hope) and that was something. She was so cute.
I told him again I didn't think he should stop. He asked why and I jumped right into it and told him that no, he didn't have enough will to do it and after all, he liked it so much. I lied a little bit, because the reason was that I thought it was insanely hot. Too late I realized I had said that out loud. I couldn't feel my feet, I said and I told him I was sorry. I was too high and slightly drunk.
He sat there for a while, thinking and looking philosophical. With the joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he looked nice. And hipster. Hipster was nice. My beard itched and I raised my hand to itch before I remembered that I didn't have a beard.
He opened his mouth and said you know before he took a pause and looked into the air. No, I said and he said: shh and I became silent once again. You know, he said again. I don't think I will stop smoking. He looked at me, as if I should have understood whatever he was talking about now. I told him I didn't quite understand what he meant and he sighed and looked at me with disappoint - even though I'm sure he wasn't really disappointed in me - before he leaned forward and kissed me and that was the end of that.
Second fic in just as many days. All thanks to the amazing tumblr I've found.
This is obv. not real.
You've got no idea how boring it is to edit the css for a new layout. I gave up for the simple reason that it is so much more fun to do everything from scratch.
we_are_cities. Frank/Gerard, pg.
tardcud read through it and corrected a few things. Only because I show her everything I write, she is awesome like that. I don't really read through what I write, so all faults and badly phrased sentences are mine. I only read it when I've posted it, and then I read it until I think it's so bad I'm surprised I ever put it up.
I don't think I can stop smoking, Frank said. Well, I replied slowly. I don't think you should either. It didn't seem like he had heard me when he went on with explaining that this girl he liked wanted him to stop patting on those ugly cigarettes because it was so disgusting and that he probably was really bad in bed because of it. But he had to stop, he told me sharply, sipping a little more of his cheap wine. He had to stop, because she was probably right and even though they wouldn't last long they would last a little while (maybe a week, he said, if he was going to hope) and that was something. She was so cute.
I told him again I didn't think he should stop. He asked why and I jumped right into it and told him that no, he didn't have enough will to do it and after all, he liked it so much. I lied a little bit, because the reason was that I thought it was insanely hot. Too late I realized I had said that out loud. I couldn't feel my feet, I said and I told him I was sorry. I was too high and slightly drunk.
He sat there for a while, thinking and looking philosophical. With the joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he looked nice. And hipster. Hipster was nice. My beard itched and I raised my hand to itch before I remembered that I didn't have a beard.
He opened his mouth and said you know before he took a pause and looked into the air. No, I said and he said: shh and I became silent once again. You know, he said again. I don't think I will stop smoking. He looked at me, as if I should have understood whatever he was talking about now. I told him I didn't quite understand what he meant and he sighed and looked at me with disappoint - even though I'm sure he wasn't really disappointed in me - before he leaned forward and kissed me and that was the end of that.
Second fic in just as many days. All thanks to the amazing tumblr I've found.
This is obv. not real.
You've got no idea how boring it is to edit the css for a new layout. I gave up for the simple reason that it is so much more fun to do everything from scratch.