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A hand on my throat I can handle. A hand on the back of my neck though...
"As your hand closed around my neck, I closed my eyes and just let myself feel everything you were doing to me... the way you thrust inside me, the way your fingers squeezed, the adrenaline, the euphoria... and then I felt your hand on the back of my neck and I realised... I wanted you to keep it there. I wasn't afraid anymore." -
Meh.
Someone tell me to write... :/
My head's full of Bryan Dick and Killian Donnely.
I saw Les Misérables last night and it was the single most emotional, fulfilling experience of my life.
And now I want to write. -
Fic: Unexpected Interest?
Fandom: Patd/Leathermouth
Pairing: Spencer Smith/Frank Iero (Kinda)
Rating: PG - if that.
POV: 3rd
Warnings: None
Notes: wrote this when I first started listening to Leathermouth, Can't quite remember when. It's short n sweet and oh so long ago <3
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Going through my old fic folders... and Jesus fucking CHRIST there's a veritable FUCKTON of crap in here!
AND I FOUND MY SPENCER SMITH/FRANK IERO DRABBLE!
Love that so much!
It's so weird to see how my writing has changed over the years... I've got fics in here from 2005!
Btw? To anyone who might scoff at fanfiction and think it's a crock o' crap ( Read more... ) -
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TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
TESTING
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Far too many ideas running through my head. Sometimes it gets so bad that I can't move my fingers to type the words...
*sigh*
Oh, I've F-locked pretty much all my fics... if I've missed some out, it's for a reason. -
(Untitled)
Reading over past posts and came to the conclusion that I was, and probably still am, a serious twat. Oh well.
Fun though :) -
Ike
Anyone got any news on IKE and its affect on Houston?
I have a friend there and am kinda concerned...
and by kinda, I mean a lot.
thanks -
Writer's Block: Your Favorite Series: One Last Go Round
Dead Like Me.
She was so deadpan it was too funny. And he rocked to the core dude -
If Light Were Dark, And Dark Were Light
Is there some kind of pre-requisite for our favourite artists to have stemmed from some fucked up form of living before becoming successful and near enough responsible by the very words they speak, the thoughts they think, the fucking scent they emit, for hundreds of thousands of fans wanting, needing, fucking dying to be just as, if not more ( Read more... )