Drabble: Diary of a Chronic Secret Keeper - February 5th, 2009 (Part 36)
Title: Diary of a Chronic Secret Keeper - February 5th, 2009 (Part 36)
Author: dryler
Pairing: Jack/Gwen, Gwen/Rhys, Jack/Ianto... you know canon.
Summary: Gwen starts a blog as an outlet, because she really needs an outlet.
Part Rating: PG-13
Timeline: I once read that Torchwood was set a couple years in the future, but I’m not sure if that’s true or not, so it’s set in 2009.
A/N: Inspired by reading the blog Belle de Jour: diary of a London call girl, although this is very different.
Other parts are here
Feb 5th, 2009
I realize this is coming out of nowhere, but I want to talk about something else, anything else really.
When I was ten, I broke the vase my Mum got as a wedding present from her grandmother. It was old, and expensive, and she loved that thing.
My sister took the blame for me. She was three years younger, and capable of puppy dog eyes that could make a sociopath cry. She wasn’t punished nearly as harshly as I would have been.
When my sister was sixteen, Mum found an empty condom wrapper that came out of her pocket in the wash.
I took the blame for her. I was three years older, and had a boyfriend my Mum wanted to adopt, or possibly kidnap, and hold captive in the basement until Stockholms set in. I wasn’t punished nearly as harshly as she would have been. Although the resulting sex talk was fairly traumatizing.
My sister and I have never really been friends, but we’ll always be sisters, even if she is a pain in the ass.
Next Entry
Author: dryler
Pairing: Jack/Gwen, Gwen/Rhys, Jack/Ianto... you know canon.
Summary: Gwen starts a blog as an outlet, because she really needs an outlet.
Part Rating: PG-13
Timeline: I once read that Torchwood was set a couple years in the future, but I’m not sure if that’s true or not, so it’s set in 2009.
A/N: Inspired by reading the blog Belle de Jour: diary of a London call girl, although this is very different.
Other parts are here
Feb 5th, 2009
I realize this is coming out of nowhere, but I want to talk about something else, anything else really.
When I was ten, I broke the vase my Mum got as a wedding present from her grandmother. It was old, and expensive, and she loved that thing.
My sister took the blame for me. She was three years younger, and capable of puppy dog eyes that could make a sociopath cry. She wasn’t punished nearly as harshly as I would have been.
When my sister was sixteen, Mum found an empty condom wrapper that came out of her pocket in the wash.
I took the blame for her. I was three years older, and had a boyfriend my Mum wanted to adopt, or possibly kidnap, and hold captive in the basement until Stockholms set in. I wasn’t punished nearly as harshly as she would have been. Although the resulting sex talk was fairly traumatizing.
My sister and I have never really been friends, but we’ll always be sisters, even if she is a pain in the ass.
Next Entry