mcfly-slash ... The Starting Line
guys, me = mess!
it's my 25th birthday on sunday
on tuesday i will be off to london
on thursday i will be seeing mcfly for the first time ever in brentwood.
therefore
this = my last post for a good two or three weeks maybe. depending on how much the ideas flow when i'll be back.
so now
wish me fun, a happy birthday and good luck because i have the goal of meeting mcfly .. and if it's going to freaking kill me.
Title: The Starting Line
Author: me
Rating: PG-13 for the filthy mouth
Chapter: 1/1 … Standalone
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Poynter/Judd (don’t say anything!)
Summary: Dougie packs up …
Disclaimer: me no own, this no true
Dedication: my Cazzabum and goldatamera just cos i can ;)
Author’s note: I was watching this McFly-thingie in which Dougie said what about Harry caught his attention when they first met. One sentence and here I am writing … how much do I need a life, people?
Bleurgh, packing is a pain in the arse. It really absolutely is. If I ever move house again I will make sure to burn most of my stuff before. How can one single person gather that much of shit in just a few years anyway?
I wonder if I should put my porn-collection on eBay for auction. I don’t need it anymore anyway, I could make my own porns now, come to think of that. Besides, there surely are enough teen girlies out there who would be paying quite a lot for an item of the famous porn-collection of McFly’s Dougie Poynter.
And look at all the books about reptiles. I never knew I had that many. Some of them are half as old as me and I know them all inside out anyway. I should look online if there’s a library nearby, maybe they wanna have them.
Hmmm … I can’t get rid off all my posters. Even when they’re just dusting away in a box, I can’t throw them away, they’re too precious. I can’t believe I ever had the patience of putting them all up on the walls. I might put some of them up in the new music-room again, for the inspration or something like that.
Oh no way, the knickers-box. How did that get here? Danny was supposed to take the thing ages ago. Why the thing stayed at my place is beyond me anyway. What do I have to do with little girls’ underwear? I guess the others thought it’d go well with the porn.
Hey, maybe I’ll ask Danny if he wants to have the knickers-box and the porn. Okay, minus the gay porn obviously. I should keep that … inspiration in other departments if you know what I mean. But really, Danny should get the knickers-box and the porn … will keep him occupied on the one day in the week when he doesn’t have a girl around.
My money should be cut down … rapidly! Anything that will save me from spending money on DVDs and games. Why do I have so many DVDs and games to begin with? My favorite game is probably one with the Xbox by now and my favorite DVDs (which I can count with the fingers of one hand) are in my touring-rucksack. Still, if I put all the cases in front of me on one another, there would be a tower bigger than I am.
Oh god, the CDs. There’s no way in hell I can look through all of them to sort out if I still want them or not. Also, how am I supposed to know if there’s a Good Charlotte CD that somehow found a new home inside the case of the Spice Girls CD (yes, I do have Spice Girls … it was a present!) But if I shove all the CDs in one box, not even the four of us could lift it up the floor. Besides, I doubt that all the CDs even fit in one box.
I think I need to get me some more boxes.
Note to self … clean out your room at least once a month, once in three months tops. It will save you from sitting on the floor in the middle of a room full of shit, getting a headache from trying to figure out what you wanna keep and what not in case you’re moving out.
I’m just gonna say this once and in the future I will deny that I ever said it but … I am a fucking woman. How can I have that many shoes? I can’t be bothered to count them. Well, either that or I just can’t count that far. Really, it’s a fucking shitload. Why do I need so many shoes? And what makes me even more of a woman, I will not get rid of a single pair of them. I know it … I throw one pair away since I haven’t worn it in ages but the next day I will feel the utter desire to wear exactly that pair of shoes I’ve thrown away.
Right, what exactly was I thinking when I was 15? Was I just not bothered or plain and simple blind? I can’t believe what kind of clothes I used to wear. I should get them sent to Uganda, the kids there could use them. Though … could I live with the fact that there will be someone walking around wearing the ugliest clothes that ever were designed?
Another note to self … if you borrow someone else’s clothes, fucking give them back as soon as possible, aka as soon as you got out of them. I just fished another shirt of Danny’s out of my closet. I’ve also found a hoodie and a jumper curtesy of Tom and … six t-shirts, two belts and three shorts of Harry’s. And I don’t even want to know whose boxers I’m holding in my hands right now.
Wait, what’s that?
Oh my god.
Oh my good fucking god and everything that’s holy.
“Harryyyyyyy!”
It takes a moment until the appears in the doorway. He looks around until he sees me sitting right in front of my closet and raises his eyebrows.
“Erm … weren’t you supposed to pack everything up and not scatter it around your room?”
“Look what I found.”
I toss the item in my hands over at him. He catches it and unfolds it, a smile appearing on his face when he’s done.
“Where did you find that?”
“Right here. I was going through my clothes, sorting which I can give away. And suddenly I held it in my hands. How long have we been looking for it?”
“Ages. I can’t believe it’s been rotting away in your closet. How did it get there anyway?”
“I have no idea.”
Harry wanders over and sits down next to me, on the pile of Danny’s clothing by the way. “I haven’t worn that in … what, four years? Four and a half?”
“Ever since the day when …”
“Yeah.” he finishes.
I grab the hem of it and run my fingers over it as well. It still feels new even though it’s years old. I’m sure it’d still bear his smell, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was squashed in my closet throughout its whole existence.
“I always saw it as my lucky charm.” Harry says.
“You have?”
“Yeah. I bought it the day before the audition. Thought it made me stand out of the crowd you know. I mean, who auditioning for a boyband knows them anyway?”
“Well, me obviously.”
“Looking back, that was good enough.”
I give him a shove. “I’ll show you good enough.”
Harry laughs and gets back up. He hands me the thing back. “You pack it. Somewhere with yours. We’re gonna put them up above the bed, what do you think?”
“Sounds good.”
Harry turns to leave my room but grabs a box with my belongings to take it with him.
“Hey Harry.” I call when he’s in the doorway.
He turns around.
“Have I already told you how happy I am to move in with you?”
“Only ten times since breakfast.”
“And have I told you I will never move out again because packing is a pain in the arse?”
“About every time I came in here since you started packing.”
“And have I told you I love you?”
“I stopped counting on that one but you can repeat it if you’d like.”
“I love you. … And I’m happy to move in with you and I never will leave you because packing is a pain in the arse!”
Harry laughs and shakes his head before he leaves the room.
I look back down at the item in my hands. Memories come flooding back in my mind. The day of the audition. So many boys all wanting the same. And then there was him. I knew I had to talk to him right away.
A few weeks later and we were in the band. And we were a couple. We’ve gotten the calls while we were on our first ever date.
The last few years have just been too amazing. The band, my life, everything. And it’s about to become even better because finally, after years, Harry and me will move in together. We have an own house, just him and me.
I carefully fold the piece of cotton up. I get up and put it in the box on my bed that says ‘Dougie and Harry - bedroom’. Right on top. Next to mine. And now I am looking down at two t-shirts. One is green, one is black, both with the same white logo on them. Harry’s and mine The Starting Line t-shirts.
The beginning of everything … it was one simple t-shirt.
The End
Comments are appreciated.
PoynterJudd Standalone
it's my 25th birthday on sunday
on tuesday i will be off to london
on thursday i will be seeing mcfly for the first time ever in brentwood.
therefore
this = my last post for a good two or three weeks maybe. depending on how much the ideas flow when i'll be back.
so now
wish me fun, a happy birthday and good luck because i have the goal of meeting mcfly .. and if it's going to freaking kill me.
Title: The Starting Line
Author: me
Rating: PG-13 for the filthy mouth
Chapter: 1/1 … Standalone
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Poynter/Judd (don’t say anything!)
Summary: Dougie packs up …
Disclaimer: me no own, this no true
Dedication: my Cazzabum and goldatamera just cos i can ;)
Author’s note: I was watching this McFly-thingie in which Dougie said what about Harry caught his attention when they first met. One sentence and here I am writing … how much do I need a life, people?
Bleurgh, packing is a pain in the arse. It really absolutely is. If I ever move house again I will make sure to burn most of my stuff before. How can one single person gather that much of shit in just a few years anyway?
I wonder if I should put my porn-collection on eBay for auction. I don’t need it anymore anyway, I could make my own porns now, come to think of that. Besides, there surely are enough teen girlies out there who would be paying quite a lot for an item of the famous porn-collection of McFly’s Dougie Poynter.
And look at all the books about reptiles. I never knew I had that many. Some of them are half as old as me and I know them all inside out anyway. I should look online if there’s a library nearby, maybe they wanna have them.
Hmmm … I can’t get rid off all my posters. Even when they’re just dusting away in a box, I can’t throw them away, they’re too precious. I can’t believe I ever had the patience of putting them all up on the walls. I might put some of them up in the new music-room again, for the inspration or something like that.
Oh no way, the knickers-box. How did that get here? Danny was supposed to take the thing ages ago. Why the thing stayed at my place is beyond me anyway. What do I have to do with little girls’ underwear? I guess the others thought it’d go well with the porn.
Hey, maybe I’ll ask Danny if he wants to have the knickers-box and the porn. Okay, minus the gay porn obviously. I should keep that … inspiration in other departments if you know what I mean. But really, Danny should get the knickers-box and the porn … will keep him occupied on the one day in the week when he doesn’t have a girl around.
My money should be cut down … rapidly! Anything that will save me from spending money on DVDs and games. Why do I have so many DVDs and games to begin with? My favorite game is probably one with the Xbox by now and my favorite DVDs (which I can count with the fingers of one hand) are in my touring-rucksack. Still, if I put all the cases in front of me on one another, there would be a tower bigger than I am.
Oh god, the CDs. There’s no way in hell I can look through all of them to sort out if I still want them or not. Also, how am I supposed to know if there’s a Good Charlotte CD that somehow found a new home inside the case of the Spice Girls CD (yes, I do have Spice Girls … it was a present!) But if I shove all the CDs in one box, not even the four of us could lift it up the floor. Besides, I doubt that all the CDs even fit in one box.
I think I need to get me some more boxes.
Note to self … clean out your room at least once a month, once in three months tops. It will save you from sitting on the floor in the middle of a room full of shit, getting a headache from trying to figure out what you wanna keep and what not in case you’re moving out.
I’m just gonna say this once and in the future I will deny that I ever said it but … I am a fucking woman. How can I have that many shoes? I can’t be bothered to count them. Well, either that or I just can’t count that far. Really, it’s a fucking shitload. Why do I need so many shoes? And what makes me even more of a woman, I will not get rid of a single pair of them. I know it … I throw one pair away since I haven’t worn it in ages but the next day I will feel the utter desire to wear exactly that pair of shoes I’ve thrown away.
Right, what exactly was I thinking when I was 15? Was I just not bothered or plain and simple blind? I can’t believe what kind of clothes I used to wear. I should get them sent to Uganda, the kids there could use them. Though … could I live with the fact that there will be someone walking around wearing the ugliest clothes that ever were designed?
Another note to self … if you borrow someone else’s clothes, fucking give them back as soon as possible, aka as soon as you got out of them. I just fished another shirt of Danny’s out of my closet. I’ve also found a hoodie and a jumper curtesy of Tom and … six t-shirts, two belts and three shorts of Harry’s. And I don’t even want to know whose boxers I’m holding in my hands right now.
Wait, what’s that?
Oh my god.
Oh my good fucking god and everything that’s holy.
“Harryyyyyyy!”
It takes a moment until the appears in the doorway. He looks around until he sees me sitting right in front of my closet and raises his eyebrows.
“Erm … weren’t you supposed to pack everything up and not scatter it around your room?”
“Look what I found.”
I toss the item in my hands over at him. He catches it and unfolds it, a smile appearing on his face when he’s done.
“Where did you find that?”
“Right here. I was going through my clothes, sorting which I can give away. And suddenly I held it in my hands. How long have we been looking for it?”
“Ages. I can’t believe it’s been rotting away in your closet. How did it get there anyway?”
“I have no idea.”
Harry wanders over and sits down next to me, on the pile of Danny’s clothing by the way. “I haven’t worn that in … what, four years? Four and a half?”
“Ever since the day when …”
“Yeah.” he finishes.
I grab the hem of it and run my fingers over it as well. It still feels new even though it’s years old. I’m sure it’d still bear his smell, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was squashed in my closet throughout its whole existence.
“I always saw it as my lucky charm.” Harry says.
“You have?”
“Yeah. I bought it the day before the audition. Thought it made me stand out of the crowd you know. I mean, who auditioning for a boyband knows them anyway?”
“Well, me obviously.”
“Looking back, that was good enough.”
I give him a shove. “I’ll show you good enough.”
Harry laughs and gets back up. He hands me the thing back. “You pack it. Somewhere with yours. We’re gonna put them up above the bed, what do you think?”
“Sounds good.”
Harry turns to leave my room but grabs a box with my belongings to take it with him.
“Hey Harry.” I call when he’s in the doorway.
He turns around.
“Have I already told you how happy I am to move in with you?”
“Only ten times since breakfast.”
“And have I told you I will never move out again because packing is a pain in the arse?”
“About every time I came in here since you started packing.”
“And have I told you I love you?”
“I stopped counting on that one but you can repeat it if you’d like.”
“I love you. … And I’m happy to move in with you and I never will leave you because packing is a pain in the arse!”
Harry laughs and shakes his head before he leaves the room.
I look back down at the item in my hands. Memories come flooding back in my mind. The day of the audition. So many boys all wanting the same. And then there was him. I knew I had to talk to him right away.
A few weeks later and we were in the band. And we were a couple. We’ve gotten the calls while we were on our first ever date.
The last few years have just been too amazing. The band, my life, everything. And it’s about to become even better because finally, after years, Harry and me will move in together. We have an own house, just him and me.
I carefully fold the piece of cotton up. I get up and put it in the box on my bed that says ‘Dougie and Harry - bedroom’. Right on top. Next to mine. And now I am looking down at two t-shirts. One is green, one is black, both with the same white logo on them. Harry’s and mine The Starting Line t-shirts.
The beginning of everything … it was one simple t-shirt.
The End
Comments are appreciated.
PoynterJudd Standalone