(Untitled)

[sdlucly]

So, I'm talking with popmusicjunkie, who's back from her vacations. And she goes and says horrible things to me. HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE THINGS(1). She says things like,

popmusicjunkie (10:49:52 p.m.): SWEET LIKE SUGAR is what this fic is

and

popmusicjunkie (10:51:40 p.m.): I CANNOT HANDLE THE CUTE OF IT ALL.

THOSE ARE ALL LIES. LIES, I TELL YOU. LIES. *nods* Just so you know.

(1) For the

Comments

[popmusicjunkie]

I am not lying you brat!

*coos at the fic*

IT IS MADE OF CUTE! And Cotton Candy! WHY WON'T YOU JUST BELIEVE ME and be OKAY with it?

(well, okay fine. PARTS of it are. There is a minor, slight current of angst running underneath it all. But you KNOW the parts that I am talking about ARE far too cute for me to handle without flailing like a girly thing)

[sdlucly]

This is a new icon that goes with my love for my boys. I love them and then they end up brain dead or stuff like that. That's all I'm saying.

IT IS NOT CUTE!

I will not take it. shut up shut up shut up.

[popmusicjunkie]

Do not make me past a poll with a snippet of the fic, asking the opinion of my flist. BECAUSE I WILL TOTALLY DO IT. And prove that I AM RIGHT.
*cough*
Um, sorry. hee

[popmusicjunkie]

minor = miner.

Even thought there IS a minor in the story. That is not what I was referring to. OH I QUIT.