I'm Drowning In Your Dizzy Noise

Simple Love

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 20:19:21 GMT

Title: Simple Love
Author: ashmira
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jon/Spencer, Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd
Summary: It’s not always easy to say what you mean.
Disclaimer: If all this was mine, I would not be posting here..
Author Notes: At the end.

Spencer closed the notebook with an annoyed sigh and dropped his head on top of it. He looked at the open book lying next to his notebook on the table. Why was it so hard for him to do this? When Ryan entered the room, Spencer raised his head again. Ryan opened the fridge, looked inside, closed it again without taking anything and dropped himself on the chair next to Spencer.

“How’s it going?” he asked Spencer, who looked quite irritated, to be honest.

“Is it supposed to be this hard?” Spencer asked in return.

“It mostly just comes naturally to me, but I suppose it may be different for you.”

Spencer really felt like banging his head on the table.

“I need to have this done, like, tomorrow,” he muttered.

“I could read it through, if you want,” Ryan offered.

Spencer nodded and handed him the notebook.

“I’m going outside for a while,” he said.

Ryan didn’t answer, already distracted by Spencer scribbles. Spencer made his way out of the house, trying not to feel like he was fleeing for Ryan’s criticism. He sat down on the steps of the back porch, watching Brendon try to climb a tree and Jon try to talk Brendon out of it. When Jon saw Spencer sitting there, though, he immediately stopped trying to convince Brendon not to climb that tree, and made his way over.

“Hey babe,” Jon greeted him and plopped down half in Spencer’s lap.

Spencer returned the greeting with a kiss.

“Finally finished with all that secret stuff?” Jon mumbles against his lips.

“Almost, just taking a break,” Spencer answered, dropping his head on Jon’s shoulder and taking a deep breath, “Ryan’s looking at it now.”

“So Ryan can see, and I don’t,” Jon stated.

“I told you, it’s supposed to be a surprise. I should go back inside though, or Ryan will probably start all over again for me.”

Jon kissed him, stood up and smiled. Spencer smiled back at him and entered the house again. The last thing he heard before the door swung shut was a loud thud when Brendon fell out of the tree.

*****

The next day, Spencer woke up early, showered, told Brendon to keep quiet, made breakfast and returned to the bedroom to wake his boyfriend. He crawled onto the bed and nuzzled Jon’s neck. The only response was a sleepy mumble and an arm around his waist.

“Wake up, love.”

Jon shook his head.

“I made you breakfast and Brendon wants to give you your present,” Spencer tried again.

Jon slowly opened his eyes and blinked. “Coffee?”

Spencer chuckled, nodded and kissed him. “Happy birthday, love.”

He tugged the sheets away and took Jon’s hand. Jon followed him to the kitchen and sat on the chair Spencer had guided him to. Brendon was grinning at him from the other side of the table, a present next to his plate. Spencer gave him his coffee, which he sipped before blinking.

“Where’s Ryan?” he asked.

“Still asleep,” Brendon answered, still grinning like an idiot. He kind of got insanely excited about any kind of party.

“I’m not opening presents without Ryan here,” Jon said.

Brendon launched himself off his chair. “Ry! I’m coming to wake you up!”

Spencer rolled his eyes at Jon, amused, and Jon smiled at him in return. There was a lot of noise coming from the direction of Ryan and Brendon’s bedroom, and a loud Ow! from Brendon. A few minutes later Ryan emerged, Brendon looking over his shoulder and not grinning as much anymore.

“He hit me!” Brendon told them, pointing at Ryan.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Ryan said and took his seat, “I told you not to wake me up again by breathing in my ear.”

Brendon sent a weak glare in Ryan’s direction and pouted.

“Want me to kiss it better?” Ryan asked him, and Brendon’s grin was back so quickly he must have hurt something.

“Guys,” Spencer said, “not at the breakfast table, please.”

Brendon looked at him, quickly stole a kiss from Ryan and turned to Jon.

“Ryan’s here, time for your present!”

Jon took his present from Brendon and took the paper off, trying not to tear it. Spencer looked at his boyfriend with a small smile, meanwhile turning the piece of paper in his hands around and around. It would probably look horrible by the time Jon got it, but he didn’t have enough time to do it over again.

Jon had unwrapped his present and smiled brightly at Brendon.

“Thanks, Bren.”

“Ryan helped me pick,” Brendon admitted, “I wanted to get you that green and orange striped hat we saw a few weeks ago, but he told me that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“That thing was ugly,” Ryan said from behind his coffee.

“It was,” Spencer said, taking the book from Jon’s hands and studying the back, “This is better.”

Ryan smiled at him and put his coffee down so he could hand Jon his present. When Jon had unwrapped it, his eyes widened.

“Wow, thanks.”

He turned the record over in his hands. Spencer looked at Ryan when he saw the front.

“It’s a first edition, isn’t it?”

Ryan nodded and Jon smiled widely at him. Spencer looked at Jon quietly, suddenly nervous. What if Jon didn’t like his present? It wasn’t even near good enough to compare to the other presents.

“And now I want to know what your surprise is,” Jon said, turning to Spencer.

Still not saying anything, he handed Jon the piece of paper. Jon looked at it and glanced at him again. He wrapped his arms around Spencer and pressed his nose into Spencer’s hair.

“Thank you, Spence,” he muttered softly.

Brendon looked at Ryan, who was smiling at the scene in front of him, and picked up the piece of paper and read it.

‘I tried to write you a poem, but I found I don’t have enough words to tell you how much I love you. I hope this will do. Love, Spencer.’

Author Notes: I got this idea while I was in English class. My teacher was reading a poem by Edmund Spenser, and she told us 'It would be so sweet if a boy wrote you something like this.' So my mind, which had already started grinning when I discovered the guy was named Spenser, came up with this story.

Music Is My Life...

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 19:03:16 GMT

Yeah, so I'm bored (I should be doing homework, but I'm lazy), so I decided to make a list of the artists I have music of on my computer...

The Academy Is... (1 song)
AFI (3 songs)
Aiden (1 song)
Daniel Bedingfield (1 song)
Blue (4 songs)
The Cab (4 songs)
The Calling (1 song)
Cobra Starship (9 songs)
Coldplay (1 song)
The Darkness (1 song)
Dashboard Confessional (2 songs)
Howie Day (2 songs)
Eagle Eye Cherry (1 song)
Evanescence (1 song)
Fall Out Boy (34 songs)
Tiziano Ferro (1 song)
The Fray (10 songs)
Gareth Gates (1 song)
Ghosts (1 song)
Goo Goo Dolls (17 songs)
Hugh Grant (2 songs)
Hard-Fi (1 song)
Heavens (8 songs)
Tyler Hilton (1 song)
The Hush Sound (2 songs)
Incubus (1 song)
Jars Of Clay (3 songs)
Jimmy Eat World (2 songs)
Ronan Keating (1 song)
Linkin Park (6 songs)
Live (3 songs)
Mamma Mia! Soundtrack (3 songs)
Jesse McCartney (11 songs)
Brian McFadden (1 song)
Tim McGraw (1 song)
Melee (1 song)
Moulin Rouge Soundtrack (1 song)
Muse (1 song)
New Found Glory (1 song)
Paramore (4 songs)
Panic(!) At The Disco (31 songs)
Poets Of The Fall (16 songs)
Reamonn (1 song)
Jessica Riddle (1 song)
Rooney (5 songs)
John Rzeznik (1 song)
Savage Garden (3 songs)
Semisonic (1 song)
Isaac Shepard (1 song)
Simple Plan (2 songs)
Sonata Arctica (1 song)
Sting (4 songs)
The Stone Roses (1 song)
Take That (1 song)
Rob Thomas (1 song)
Luca Turilli (1 song)
Unforgettable Sound (3 songs)
Valencia (1 song)
The Verve (1 song)
Within Temptation (13 songs)
Will Young (5 songs)

I listen to every song almost every day, most of it is on my MP3Player... The artists I only have 1 song of are mostly songs from soundtracks, the artists I have more songs of don't have that much songs I like, and the artists with more than 10 songs are the ones I love (well, except Jesse McCartney, because I still don't know about him...).. ^^ Believe it or not, making this list has made me feel better... I'm a strange person...

Way Up High Or Down Low

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 18:12:47 GMT

I realized today that just maybe, I have a Brendon of my own. Well, sort of. There's been this guy in my class the past three years, and only last year we became friends. I think you might call him the most popular guy in our class; every one of my friends (except for maybe one or two) has (had) a crush on him. In fact, it was the first thing one of my friends said when I got placed in their class: 'Beware of Thom, every girl has a crush on him.' Till this day, everyone is surprised I never liked him. I like him as a friend, nothing more, and I have told him so. Sure, he's cute, but is that really a reason to tell everyone you like someone?
He's funny, he says stupid things to teachers, who laugh about it because that's what they know him like. He's smart, although he doesn't let it show. He goofs around a lot, but at home, he's really serious about school. He's a drummer, making a lot of noise even when he's not behind his drums. Drumming on tables and such. (I do that too. Did before I knew him, and I'm glad I'm not the only one. If my mom would let me, I would drum. She doesn't like the noise. And a set of drums don't really fit in my bedroom...) He likes (almost) the same music as I do. Don't think he's actually listened to PatD, though.
And that's all I know about him, really. Somehow, while thinking about why I liked him, he reminded me of my impression of Brendon. Don't think I'll ever tell him, though. That's not the kind of thing we talk about. We don't really talk about anything, to be honest, but he understands my sort of humor, and that's enough for me.

We had to get our pictures taken today at school. The guy took three pictures of me, declared I had my eyes closed in the first two, and picked the third one, which is the only one I don't smile in. I look cross. It also doesn't help I was wearing a black shirt and my hair decided to turn black just before the picture, while it's normally a dark brown. My face is like a very white spot in between two big black patches. And this is the picture they're going to put in the yearbook everyone gets at the end of the year, which probably means everybody is going to remember me as the dark, moody girl. It sucks.

But well, enough complaining for today. Hope I didn't depress you too much. ;)

Love, Esther

A Reason To Smile

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 19:18:49 GMT

Title: A Reason To Smile
Author: ashmira

Rating: PG-13
POV: 3rd
Pairing: Gabe/William
Summary: There’s only one thing that can make William smile while singing about death…
Word Count: 429

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Even this computer belongs to my parents. Oh, I do own Boris though. He lives in my head…

Author Notes: Clearly, I have no idea how video clips are made. So, I’m sorry if this sucks (a lot). Also, I don’t know if filming this clip really was such a hard thing to do. It probably wasn’t. And yeah, I’m incapable of calling William Beckett Will or Bill. I have a very strange brain.

~~~

Filming the clip for ‘The Phrase That Pays’ hadn’t been easy on the members of The Academy Is… Their director – some guy called Boris – wouldn’t stop yelling they did something wrong, and somehow, filming the 3 minute clip had taken 3 days. They were finally filming the last part in a big hall, which had partly been painted white for their clip. Seriously, William couldn’t be more relieved.

***

“Cut!” Boris yelled for the thirty-second time that hour, “William, come on, you’re supposed to smile!”

William looked at Sisky and rolled his eyes. He pasted a overly sweet smile on his face and turned back to Boris.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do my best,” he said, not able to stop the sarcasm from shining through in his answer.

Seriously, this song was about death, why was he supposed to smile? Starting from the beginning again, William tried to smile, really, he did. But, looking at the camera, he realized there was nothing to smile about, not really.

“Is it serious, I’m afraid it is,” he sang, looking just to the side of the camera, where some movement had caught his attention.

Gabe was standing just behind Boris, and when he saw William was looking at him, he raised his hand.

“Death is gonna catch up to all one day, but yours is coming quicker than ours, than ours…”

Raising his finger, William knew Gabe would recognize the gesture for the greeting it was. Managing to look at Gabe and pretending to look at the camera almost the whole time, William had to fight to keep the smile of his face now. They finished the whole song this time before Boris yelled ‘cut’ again.

“Well done, William,” Boris’ voice sounded through the building.

Grinning at Gabe, William walked closer to the other and let his boyfriend close his arms around him.

“Finally finished,” Gabe stated, dropping a kiss on William’s lower lip.

“Hmm,” William agreed and pressed his head into Gabe’s neck, tired and so glad they were finally done.

“Are you free to leave?” Gabe asked, softly trailing his hand over William’s back.

“Boris the dictator probably still needs me for something,” William sighed, trying to pull away from the older boy’s embrace.

“Fuck him,” Gabe answered, not letting William go, “I need you more, come on.”

Tugging William with him, he turned to leave in the direction of the changing rooms.

“By the way, those pajama’s looked good on you. Do you think you could steal them?”

William just laughed, and let himself be led away by his lover.

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 14:25:00 GMT

If you were the sort of cartoon or video game character that always wears a costume, what would you wear? Why?

I was browsing through the Writer's Block things (again) and found this one. I just saw The League Of Extraordinary Gentleman yesterday (for the I-don't-now-much-many'th time), and I absolutely adore what Mina's wearing. Let me go find a picture of it.

and

It's awesome, seriously. If I had to wear a costume, I'd want something that looks like this. I'd probably look ridiculous, but I don't care. Just like that time when one of my friends wanted 'that one dress Nicole Kidman wears in Moulin Rouge.' She wears black all the time, and the dress looks like this:

Yes, I'm aware that the picture's quality is shitty, and that Nicole Kidman looks like an alien who has had too much radioactive food, but that doesn't matter. The point is that the dress is red (which I think is an awful color for a dress), and that it has a giant bow on the back. But well, I'm the girl who wore a suit to the sort-of-prom-Christmas-thingy at school last year. I think I even have a picture of it =O

I'm the one in the middle, with the horrible shirt my mother forced me to wear.. :S The girl on the left is Anneke, my totally slash-approving friend, and the one on the right is Jessica, who's my totally crazy best friend.

But no picture of me in the whole suit. It was awesome. Black, with a silver vertical line every two inches or so. I love it. This year I'm buying a dress, though. Somehow, wearing a suit made me feel even more awkward than wearing a dress. I'm not a person who likes formal clothing. The guys in our school are with me on that subject, but that party is the only party at school that's worth going to (or at least I think so). They even hire a ballroom dance teacher for four weeks, and everyone can learn to dance. Our class learns from two of my friends, though, who dance as a sport.

So, somehow, this turned into a story about me, again. And I'm going to shut up now, because there are other things I should/could be doing.

Love, Esther

Why growing up isn't as much fun as I thought it would be...

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 12:53:32 GMT

I think I 'buried' part of my childhood today, and that's a scary thought. It means I'm growing up.

I bought a lot of books in the past few weeks, and there wasn't enough room in my bookcase anymore. A lot of the books where on top of each other, and it didn't look like I cared for my books, which I do. My books and my music are my life. So I had to clean out my bookcase, and a lot of the books I got for birthdays when I was younger disappeared in a box to our attic. And now the biggest part of the books that remain are English books. All of them I have bought in the past year and I don't think one of them has less than 300 pages. And I have the same problem with my CD's and my DVDs. They're on a separate little shelve on my desk, and I don't have any room to buy more of them.

I need a bigger room! The only problem is that I already have the biggest bedroom in our house. And when I leave for University in a year, I'll probably get a room that's smaller than this one, so I don't know what I'll do with my books then.

So growing up isn't that much fun. First I got a job, which meant I earned money, which I could spent on books and music and movies. Then I had to get an extra shelve for my CD's and DVDs, because they couldn't fit into their original space anymore. And now I have to throw away a piece of what remained of my childhood, because I won't have room to put my books for my last year at High School.

I think letting go of your childhood is part of growing up, but it still isn't much fun. And maybe I'm just too materialistic, and I should learn to let go of my stuff a little easier. I don't know, but I think I'll find out while growing up.. ;)

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 20:27:24 GMT

I was looking at cherierose 's Journal again, and she posted two more tests. Who am I to resist the temptation of two new tests?

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Moderate
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Moderate
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Information --

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	Moderate
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Low
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante's Inferno Test

Greed:	Low
Gluttony:	Low
Wrath:	Low
Sloth:	Medium
Envy:	Very Low
Lust:	Very Low
Pride:	Medium

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

My sheep ^^

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 20:07:19 GMT

adopt your own virtual pet!

Everyone say 'Yay!' for random funny tests!

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 15:22:33 GMT

Because they make me happy :D
I love to fill in random funny tests. I was looking at

cherierose 's Journal, and there was a random funny test, so I followed the link and ended up on a page with loads of random funny tests. And now I'm going to bother you all with the results. If you don't want to read, don't read it, but you might be missing out on some really important information about me... :P

Esther Smits's Past Lives

651 BC: Roman Gladiator

918 AD: A pirate

1909 AD: An actor

'What were you in your past lives?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Can you say 'Awesome"?! I went to Rome about a year and a half ago, and it was beautiful ^^ And I've been in love with pirates after seeing the Pirates of the Caribbean series. The actor thingy is somewhat strange, because I'm sure I would get kicked out of the theatre while stressing backstage. And I don't think they had movies around 1909... So, not likely, but whatever...

Esther Smits --

[adjective]:

Pretentiously academian

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Alright, I can live with that xD

Esther Smits

~ will teach you to ~

Manipulate a lie detector test

'What will your business card say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

*Speechless*
I've always wanted to know how you can manipulate a lie detector. Apparently I already do.. xD

Your Theme Song:

"Losing My Religion" - R.E.M.

'What is your theme song?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Yay! This is one of the best songs ever! It's not really a happy song, though, and I consider myself to be at least a bit happy at the moment...

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Well, I will miss the Muppets too. The thing that got me curious: who is this lover? And why was the car speeding? Was my lover trying to get me to the hospital on time so I wouldn't die? If that's the case, I know I picked a good guy to be my lover.

And this is enough for now.. I think... The last obituary thingy gave me inspiration for a story, so that should be up in a few days, if I manage to concentrate on it long enough to finish it xD And that's probably not going to happen... My best friend is coming over tomorrow, I hope I get my copy of Breaking Dawn on Monday, and I'll have to work from Tuesday till Friday... So I'll see if I can write the whole story today, and otherwise I'll probably won't continue what I started...

Babysitting (s/a)

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 22:04:49 GMT

Title: Babysitting
Author: ashmira
Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Warnings: None really, unless you want to be warned for kid!Panic
Disclaimer: It’s not real, at least, I don’t think it is. I don’t own the guys. I’m also not making money from this. If I were, I wouldn’t be posting this here..
Summary: Pete asks for Patrick’s help when he has to babysit Ryan, Brendon, Jon and Spencer.
Author Notes: I'm totally blaming my job for this xD I had to deliver the mail today, and when I saw a envelope with "Baby Walz" on it, it got me thinking about Pete Wentz and babies (because every word that begins with a W and ends with a Z reminds me of Wentz in some stupid way...), and this is the result. I typed this in three hours or so, and it's not beta'd... So tell me if you spot any mistakes ;)

***

“Trick, you have to help me,” Pete told his best friend over the phone.

“They’re that bad?” he heard Patrick laugh.

“They are four five year old boys, and Brendon’s so hyper he counts for two. At least. So, really, I have to babysit five five-year-olds on my own. I’ll die. If you don’t help me.”

“I’ll come with you the next time, not promising anything after that. If their mothers agree with me coming, of course.”

Pete let out a relieved sigh.

“Alice suggested I’d ask a friend to help me, so I think the others are okay with it,” he told Patrick.

“Alright, next Saturday?” Patrick asked, and Pete hummed in agreement, “Oh, I have to go, dinner’s ready. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Pete answered and ended the phone call, falling onto his bed backwards and smiling when he thought about babysitting with Patrick.

***

Pete had been absolutely speechless when he saw little Ryan for the first time. Ryan had been almost a week old, and he and his mother, Alice, had just returned from the hospital. Pete was twelve. He had held Ryan for a few minutes, and thought he was the cutest baby Pete had ever seen. The next day, after school, he had dragged Patrick home with him to look at his newest neighbor.

Only two months after Ryan was born, his father died. Pete had helped Alice to the best of his abilities, only stopping at his own home for a minute when he returned from school and then running to the next house. There he would help to clean the house and play with Ryan while Alice cooked dinner.

When Ryan was three, Alice asked Pete if he would be willing to babysit Ryan while she went to take yoga classes every Saturday afternoon from two till four. Pete had grinned and said he would love to.

After that, it didn’t take long for Mrs. Smith to ask if she could leave her Spencer with Pete too, while she joined Alice in her yoga classes. Mr. Smith had to work on Saturday afternoons, so she didn’t really have anyone to leave Spencer with. Pete had shrugged, smiled and started looking after two boys.

Alice and Mrs. Smith were happy to be able to relax once in the week, so Pete told them he’d look after their boys a little longer if they would maybe want to do something after yoga. He found himself babysitting from two till half past six only three weeks after his offer.

Mrs. Walker also had a husband who worked on Saturdays, and because Pete was already babysitting Ryan and Spencer, maybe he wouldn’t mind if she brought Jon over when she went to yoga. Ryan had always been well-behaved, and Pete figured Spencer knew what he could and couldn’t do after a year, so he told her to bring Jon, because, really, he didn’t mind.

Only half a year after Pete started babysitting Jon too, Mrs. Urie moved into the house on the other side of the street with her son, Brendon. Pete found out later that Mr. Urie had left his wife and son not long after Brendon had been born, claiming he wasn’t ready for a kid yet. It didn’t take long for Alice to decide she had to become friends with Brendon’s mother, and a month and a half after Ryan’s birthday, Pete was officially babysitting four five-year-olds while their mothers went to their yoga class.

It took him three Saturdays to discover he couldn’t really handle four kids on his own, not when Brendon Urie was one of those four. It took him one more Saturday before he told Alice they were a little too much to handle. Alice smiled and told him to bring a friend along.

***

Patrick was sitting on Pete’s bed, listening to Pete talk about the four kids and waiting till they would go over to Alice’s.

“… But they’re not that hard to tell apart, even when you don’t know them. Brendon’ll probably start yelling about hugs and piggyback rides as soon as he sees you. Ryan’s quiet, and his drawings are awesome, even if he’s only five years old. Spencer demands attention and wants to play games the whole afternoon. And Jon likes to sit next to Ryan and watch him draw, as long as his favorite CD is on. So practically, if you hug Brendon and give him piggyback rides around the house, and if there’s someone to play games with Spencer, everything is alright. If we make sure we look at Ryan’s drawings when he finishes them, Ryan and Jon will be okay by themselves. Just don’t try to guess what Ryan drew if you don’t recognize it, I did so once; Ryan nearly started crying, and Jon got mad -”

“And we all know there’s nothing more terrifying than an angry five-year-old,” Patrick said, smiling.

It was so obvious that Pete loved the kids, Patrick couldn’t help but look forward to watching Pete with them the whole afternoon. Well, really, Patrick always looked forward to watching Pete, but that didn’t really have anything to do with babysitting.

***

“Petey!”

Pete, who had been sitting at the table, was knocked into Patrick when Brendon hugged him. Pete smiled and hugged Brendon back, before Brendon pulled himself on Pete’s lap.

“I don’t know you,” he told Patrick, “Are you Petey’s fwiend?”

Pete leaned forward a little and whispered conspiratorially in Brendon’s ear: “That’s Patrick, he’s helping me to take care of you today.”

“Yay!” Brendon exclaimed, launched himself at Patrick, who caught him just before he smashed his head into the wall behind Patrick’s chair, and cuddled him, standing on his lap, “You have to give me a pickwyback wide!”

Patrick laughed, picked Brendon up and put him on the chair when he stood up. He turned around. Brendon jumped on his back and stole Patrick’s hat, putting it on his own head, and laughing when it slid over his eyes.

“Where do you want to go, Mr. Urie?” Patrick asked, still laughing.

“Mommy!” Brendon shouted, “Can we go pick up Jon?”

Mrs. Urie smiled, “Of course, dear.”

Ryan, whose head had shot up from his drawing when he heard Jon’s name, slipped from his chair and held out his hand to Pete.

“We can go too, right?” he asked quietly, smiling when Pete nodded.

Holding Ryan’s hand in his, Pete stood up and walked after Patrick to the front door. They had just stepped outside when Spencer and his mother arrived in their car. Spencer was out the car in a second when he saw them outside.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, adding a “Who are you?” when he saw Patrick.

“That’s Patwick,” Brendon told him, “And we’re going to pick up Jon and his mommy.”

Spencer grabbed Pete’s other hand, “I’m coming with you.”

“Be nice, sweety,” Spencer’s mother told him, giving him a kiss on his forehead before walking off to greet her two friends.

They walked out of the street, crossed another and walked up to Jon’s front door. Before anyone could knock, though, the door flew open. Jon stood in the door opening, grinning wide.

“Hi.”

He hugged Patrick’s knees, tugged on the leg of Brendon’s jeans, poked Spencer in the ribs and hugged Pete’s knees too before grinning at Ryan and taking his hand.

“Hey Pete,” Jon’s mother said, while she locked the door, “Sorry I’m late.”

“I got used to that a long time ago,” Pete grinned, “This is Patrick, he’s going to help me look after the boys today.”

“I would normally shake your hand,” Mrs. Walker said, “But you’ll drop Brendon if I do, so just ‘nice to meet you’ will have to do.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Patrick answered.

Walking back to Ryan’s house, Pete watched Patrick talk to Mrs. Walker, Brendon still on his back. Patrick was amazing, looking so natural when doing anything, Pete couldn’t help but adore his friend. Ryan tugged on his hand, and smiled a little smile when Pete looked down at him, leaving Pete to wonder how obvious he was being when even a five year old boy could see how much in love with Patrick he was.

***

Pete was sitting on the floor next to the table, playing a game with Spencer he didn’t understand, something with cards and dice. Ryan was sitting at the table, giving Jon instructions about which color of crayon he wanted to have next. Patrick and Brendon were off upstairs, and giggling could be heard from the direction of the hallway every now and then. When Spencer told Pete he had lost for the fifteenth time in a row, Pete decided an interruption was in order.

“Alright, who wants something to drink?”

“Yes, me,” Ryan said and Jon just nodded.

Spencer jumped to his feet, “Can I help?”

Pete nodded at him and picked him up, walking to the kitchen and setting him on the counter, just below the shelve with mugs.

“Patrick and Brendon’ll probably want something to drink, too,” he told Spencer, who picked six mugs from the shelve.

He opened the fridge and spotted the pitcher of lemonade Alice left him every week. He closed the fridge again, hearing Brendon thundering down the stairs and hoping the boy would make the end of them in one piece. Spencer had put the mugs in a neat row, and was now making grabby hands at the pitcher.

“I’ll do the first three,” Pete said, “Wouldn’t want you to break the stuff that belongs to Ryan’s mommy because the pitcher’s too heavy.”

“I want a lollipop,” Brendon said, suddenly standing in the kitchen.

“You can ask Patrick if he wants to give you a lollipop,” Pete said, “But lollipops mean no running around till they’re finished.”

“I know,” Brendon said, already turning around and running to Patrick, tugging at his wrist and leading him to the pantry.

***

When the kids were sitting around the table, mugs with lemonade in front of them and a lollipop in each of their mouths, Pete and Patrick leaned against the counter in the kitchen, still keeping an eye on the four in the living room.

“Now I know why you needed someone else to help you,” Patrick said, “Looking after Brendon when he’s alone is probably already a full time job.”

“So you’ll come with me from now on?” Pete asked, putting down his empty mug.

“Yeah,” Patrick said, also putting down his mug, although it wasn’t really empty yet.

He seemed to hesitate about something for a moment, before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Pete’s lips. When he leaned back again, he looked at Pete shyly.

“’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time now,” Pete admitted, smiling a little.

He took one of Patrick’s hands in his, leaned back in and kissed him. Patrick placed his other hand on the back of Pete’s neck and trailed along Pete’s lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

“Eww!”

Pete and Patrick stepped away from each other, though Pete didn’t let go of Patrick’s hand. Brendon was standing just inside the kitchen, Spencer just behind him, both of them with their hands for their eyes. Brendon peeked from behind his finger, and, when he saw it was safe, he lowered his hands, tugging on Spencer’s sleeve.

“You didn’t say he is youw giwlfwiend,” Brendon said, and Pete laughed.

“He isn’t,” he told Brendon, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Patrick smiled at him widely when he said that, and Pete squeezed his hand.

“Oh,” Brendon said, looking confused, “Can I play Spencey’s game with him?”

“Of course,” Pete said, “Did you finish your lemonade?”

Brendon and Spencer both nodded and took off, lying down next to the table, picking up the cards and rolling the dice. Pete really needed to figure out how that game worked. He would do that later, though, after Patrick had gone home. He smiled up, planting a kiss on the other’s chin before going to check on Ryan and Jon.

***

“Have they been good?” Alice asked even before she was inside.

“They were awesome,” Patrick answered before Pete could.

“So you’ll be coming again,” Alice said, smiling when Patrick nodded.

Brendon bounced up to them, hugged them both, gave Patrick his hat back and jumped into his mother’s arms. She laughed, hugged him too and went home. Spencer was talking before he even saw his mother, telling her everything he did that afternoon. She smiled, ruffled his hair and walked to the car in front of him. He waved at Pete and Patrick from the front seat when they drove away. Jon wrapped his arms around Ryan and whispered something in his ear that made Ryan laugh. Then he walked to his mother and took her outstretched hand.

“See you next week,” he said to Pete and Patrick.

They waved when Mrs. Walker almost dragged her son away. Ryan ran to the living room, grabbed the drawing he had been working on and handed it to Patrick.

“It’s for you,” he said quietly, and Patrick smiled.

He kneeled and drew Ryan into a hug.

“Thanks,” he replied, “It’s awesome.”

Ryan looked up at his mother, eyes widening.

“Mommy, do you know what Pete and Patrick did?”

Alice looked at them, eyebrow raised and smiling.

“What did they do, honey?” she asked him while taking him into the living room.

“They kissed. Brendon told me they did. In the kitchen.”

Alice looked at the two teenagers, who were standing in the door opening, and Pete grabbed Patrick’s hand. Patrick blushed and looked at the floor. She smiled.

“It’s about time,” she said, walking over to hug them.

“Pete’s been going on about Patrick this and Patrick that since I can remember,” she said, winking at Patrick.

Pete blushed a little and tugged at Patrick’s hand.

“Come on, we have to go home. You’ll be eating at my house, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Patrick answered, opening the front door and turning around, “Till next Saturday.”

Ryan waved and smiled at them. Pete shook his head. They really were much too obvious.

Books!

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 18:57:11 GMT

Taken from ivesia19's journal..

The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed. Well let's see.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them ;-)

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Well, I didn't do too bad, I think, considering English is not my first language. Also, I'm not officially an adult yet, so I don't really count... xD

Just Like Everything Else Disappeared...

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 18:05:16 GMT

I was delivering the mail (and it wasn't raining ^^), when I suddenly had something I could make a story out of. I finished, went home as soon as I could, and now I finished a little piece. I like it. So I'm posting it here. No one reads this, but that doesn't matter. I'll post it anyway.

--x--xx--xx--x--

“Shakespeare?”

“This is the only one I haven’t read yet,” I mumbled, not looking up from my book.

“What?!”

I looked up. Shit. The voice belonged to Melony, who sat next to me in my science class.

“You read Shakespeare?”

“Yes, for school,” I sneered.

“We only have to read one piece from Shakespeare for school, - ” she said.

“And that’s what I’m doing,” I cut her off quickly, but she continued like she didn’t hear me.

“and that paper has to be finished in about two, maybe three, months.”

“If I don’t start reading now, I’ll never get in done in time. It’s boring.”

“You’re already almost done. You’re not so slow it takes you two months to read maybe fifty pages.”

“I am if I keep being interrupted by people I don’t want to talk to.” I glared at her.

“You don’t have to be so rude about it,” she said, sitting down opposite me.

“Why are you sitting at my table?”

“Isn’t your table,” I heard from somewhere behind her bag, which she had put on the table.

“It is when I’m sitting here.”

“No, it isn’t. I can sit where I want,” she said, putting her bag on the floor and opening her book.

“Why would want to sit here, with me?” To say I was just a little surprised would be an understatement.

“You said you didn’t want to talk to me, so that would mean you’d be quiet. Unless you talk to yourself, but that would be stupid. And because I wanted to sit somewhere where people don’t talk to me, so I can read, I decided to sit down here. Others won’t bother me here, they think you’re scary,” she added the last bit in a whisper, hiding behind her book immediately after.

I think she was secretly laughing at me.

--x--xx--xx--x--

Well, that's all. It isn't much, but I like it. I've said that before...

This Line Doesn't Exist...

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 12:55:13 GMT

I've recently started hanging up pages with lyrics from my favorite bands/songs. The only problem is that my walls are full. So now I don't know where to hang the others I want. I could tape them to the ceiling, but I don't think my mom would be happy with that, because she'll probably be the one to repaint my ceiling when I move out. And that will be in a year already.. Wow.
Yesterday was the last day of school. My favorite teacher decided to start teaching at another school closer to her home, and yesterday we gave a surprise party, organized by our whole class. It was really fun, but well, I'm kinda really sad she's leaving. She helped me with everything in the past two years, and although there are a lot of other awesome teachers at our school, she was the best teacher I've ever had. She promised to come to our graduation next year, and because my mom works in the school library, I'll probably hear from her now and then, but it still won't be the same.
And now I really want to write a story, but there are two problems. I have no inspiration, and I have no time. I don't even have time to be writing this, to be honest, but I'm stubborn and stupid (and not only because of my thing for Hugh Grant XD), so I'll probably end up delivering the mail tonight. In the rain, I think. It hasn't been dry for longer than 4 hours since a week ago, and although I'm not really a fan of high temperatures, only rain and cloudiness for a week isn't fun either.
And I'm distracted again. By Youtube. By Panic at the Disco, to be exact. I love their music. And the guys are funny. Except for Spencer. He's creepy. I was delivering the mail Wednesday night, and I had a package which wouldn't fit through the mailbox, so I rang the bell. So this guy comes to the door, and when he opened it, the first thing I thought was: WTF!? You look like Jon from Panic at the Disco.. I didn't say it out loud. But I stared. And I think the guy thought I was creepy. Because it took me half a minute to remember I had to deliver the package. And when I'd given it to him, he slammed the door in my face. It was really really stupid.
My fish is staring at me like he can't remember who I am. Which he probably can't. Poor guy. He's named Marten, after Voldemort (because I'm also obsessed with Harry Potter XD). So it's kind of sad he can't do anything but swim, eat, and stare at me stupidly. It's not really a world-dominating fish. But it doesn't really matter. Because I love him. Kind of..
And now I've been busy with this for almost an hour (O.o), so I'm going to stop talking... For now... *evil laugh*

Writer's Block

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 15:37:00 GMT

I think I really do have writer's block.. It's horrible.. Every time I think of something I could use in a story, I sit down behind my computer, and nothing happens. I just have an idea, and nothing more. I hate it... Sometimes I check the 'Writer's Block'-thing on the livejournalpage, and most of the times, it's not really interesting.. Seriously, why would I want to write about bathrooms that had an influence on my life? Can bathrooms even have influence on someone's life? There's only one bathroom I can remember, besides those at home, at school and at friends' or family's houses, and I don't even know which country it is in. I only know we stopped there when we were driving home from an excursion in Rome. It didn't have any influence on my life. The trip did, yes, but that bathroom? I don't even know why I remember it...
But well, I was looking through some of the ideas, and I found this one:

What are some gripping opening lines from films and books?

Now, I've already said bathrooms never had any influence on my life, but films and books sure have. They're two of my biggest addictions. I love to read, I love to watch films. I love to read subtitles, but that's probably just because I'm weird...
This opening line isn't exactly gripping, but it is from one of my favorite books, Twilight by Stephenie Meyer.

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down.

Really, I kinda love such opening lines. They don't tell you anything, but they're capable of getting your attention.
I wanted to put the opening line from Artemis Fowl in here, too. The only problem is it seems to be stuck in it's box, and I could probably get it out, but that would mean touching the huge amount of dust on top, and that's not something I would like to experience. I'm scared I won't be able to find my fingers again. So no opening line from Artemis Fowl. They are good books, though. Even the dust bunnies like them. I have prove.

The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive.

Harry Potter, of course. Order of the Phoenix, to be exact. Not because that's the best of the opening lines in the Harry Potter series (maybe it is, I don't know), not because I think it's the best book in the series. Just because I'm lazy and this one was on my desk, and the others weren't.
And now I'm wondering what the opening line from the film of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is. And because www.imdb.com is almost my best friend (which is rather sad, I know), and because being lazy is not an excuse in that case, I will see if I can look it up.

I don't know about you, it's just too hot today, isn't it?

That's a radio-person, before you start wondering. But while the opening line from the book immediately tells you it's an Harry Potter book (which isn't really necessary, because I hope you always know which book you are reading. You never know what's gotten into your bookcase. Or library), the opening line from the film could be from any random film. Even from a film about a snowstorm, because everyone is allowed to be sarcastic once in a while, even fictional people.

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport.

The opening line from Love Actually. I love that introduction, because I realise every time I watch that film, that he is right. About some parts, at least.

Hey there girly.

Now, if Heath Ledger was still alive, I would kill somebody to make him say that to me. Although he probably wouldn't want to say that to me if I had just killed someone. So maybe I wouldn't. But, well, he died, so I don't really need to think about it. Somehow, my almost-love for Heath Ledger grew to the point it was nearly as scary as my almost-love for Hugh Grant (who, by the way, is almost 30 years older than me. Stupid girl.). And then he died.

But, alright, somehow this turned into this massive story about me and my (not-so-healthy) obsessions. It is prove those 'Writer's Block' things work, though. This is really an impressive amount of text for me. And in English, too. Although I'm Dutch. It would've probably taken me only ten or fifteen minutes to write this in Dutch, but it doesn't matter. School's out, so I really don't have anything to do. Not that school really held me back in my writing.
And still I won't stop writing. But I really have to. I have to go back to my fangirling about Panic at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, Poets of the Fall and such bands. So now I'm really going to stop. For as long as I can stay away from my computer.

Drabbles

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 15:14:00 GMT

Original:

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

My adaptation:

1. Turn on your music player on shuffle, pick the first ten songs you really like and put them in a separate playlist.

2. Write a drabble related to each song in your playlist. You may listen to it three times, then your drabbles should be finished.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Won’t Go Away – The Feeling

I was listening to the voice on the other side of the phone telling me to hand up the phone. I knew this was a cliché, but it was fun to do, honestly.

“You do it,” I replied.

And then he was gone, suddenly. It really took me by surprise. I could’ve kept it up for at least another hour or two. I had thought he would never end our conversation so abruptly. The phone rang again. When I picked it up, I heard a song on the other side.

Won’t go away.

“You didn’t think you’d get away with it that easily, did you?”

I smiled. He was there again, like always. Like the song said; he would never go away.

Here Is Gone – Goo Goo Dolls

I’m not the one who broke you, I’m not the one you should fear.

It was easy for him to say so. But in a way it was him who broke me. He let himself be taken away from me, and after I saw him get dragged away, I would never be the same.

I wanted to be all you need.

And he was. All I ever needed. But he isn’t here anymore, and for that, I hate him, I can’t help myself. He was never coming back, I knew. Even if he came back, we never would have what we had. He had broken me, he had broken himself, in a way. And we both couldn’t, wouldn’t ever be whole again, not even together.

Because You Live – Jesse McCartney

I faintly heard a song playing in the background when I stood in front of the window. I thought I recognized it, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care. All I cared about was the person on the ground below, struggling to get inside. The wind blew him away every time he was almost at the door. I didn’t know why he had been stupid enough to go to the supermarket in the middle of a storm. He looked up to the window I was standing at, and smiled. I smiled back at him, knowing he couldn’t see.

I ran downstairs, throwing the front door open. He was a short distance from the door, bags in his hands, smiling when he saw me standing in the door. I stepped outside, instantly showered by the freezing rain. I grabbed some of his bags, took one of his hands, and together we battled the wind to get to the door. Finally inside and up the stairs, he started laughing. I laughed along, just because I felt so good. I grabbed some towels and dry clothes and threw them at him.

“Stop dripping on the carpet.”

He grinned, coming up to me and wrapping me inside one of the towels.

“Sit down.”

I did, not caring I was ruining our couch, watching him walk to one of the bags he had dumped next to the door. He took out a small, flat rectangle and smiled as he turned around to face me again.

“Chocolate?”

A nod. I smiled, standing up to hug him.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s the only thing that keeps you alive when you’re at home for a long time.”

I shook my head.

“You’re the only thing that keeps me alive.”

Leave Right Now – Will Young

What was I doing here? He broke my heart once, and I really didn’t need him to do it again. Why did I think it would be a good idea to visit him again? When I approached him, he looked up. He didn’t look like he had anymore. He wasn’t the same person I fell in love with. I should’ve left when I still could. Now I couldn’t run away anymore. I had to face the things I had come here for. He turned around, away from me. I watched when a woman smiled at him, and walked over to us. I wasn’t listening when he introduced us, I wasn’t listening when I walked away from them, leaving while trying to protect the little piece of me that wasn’t broken yet.

Dreaming With A Broken Heart – John Mayer

He wrapped his arms around my waist when the music started. I looked up, right into his eyes. He smiled. I placed my head on his shoulder, and listened to the sounds around us. People were talking, laughing. I heard him breathing softly. Some children were giggling and running around noisily.

Then something changed, very subtly. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t smiling anymore. His arms loosened. The background noises faded away. When I looked up, he wasn’t there anymore. I was all alone in the dark, alone with the fading feeling of his arms around me. It scared me, I wasn’t safe in his arms anymore. I tried to get away from that horrible feeling of loneliness, but I couldn’t. Something was keeping me there. I kept struggling, noticing that the longer I struggled, the lighter everything became.

At last I woke up, sweating, still alone.

Love Me Or Leave Me – Rooney

Shocked, he looked at me. Then he started laughing. But I was still mad, and got even more mad when he kept laughing. When I slapped him, he opened his mouth to say something. I told him to shut up and listen to me. Why did he laugh at me when I was serious? Did he really think I was asking this for fun? That I was doubting his love for me for fun?

No, he answered, of course I wasn’t doubting it for fun. But I had looked so confused, so cute, he couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t going to leave me, never, he said. Of course he loved me.

He confused me even more, but he just shrugged and wrapped his arms around me. Well, I was a little more satisfied, at least. He had told me he loved me, and that was enough for now.

Stolen – Dashboard Confessional

I was in my car, windows open, singing along with the radio, driving down a road that didn’t seem to end. It was only this morning I found a note on the mirror in my bathroom.

You have stolen my heart.

When I went downstairs to get some breakfast, there were notes everywhere, numbered, with little hints on them. I put them in order, and discovered it was some kind of puzzle. I grinned, grabbed an apple, and got into my car. I knew the handwriting on the notes like I knew my own. It belonged to the person I would drive to the end of the world for. And that was what I was doing. Well, maybe not the end of the world, but it was close.

I drove to the end of a forest, and got out of the car. I followed the instructions on the note with a big number 27 on it. After that one, there would only be 1 note and I would be where I was headed.

I watch you spin around.

Note 28. I spun around, and was faced with the man who had stolen my heart. He put his hand inside the pocket of my coat and took something out. He held it out to me.
Note 29. Marry Me? It's the only way I can get my heart back...

Suspension – Mae

I felt really light when I walked to the end of the path. I was nervous like I never had been before, but somehow it felt good. Knowing I was going to do something that would change my life forever. Everyone I invited had come to watch. Everyone I had wanted to be there had come. I missed only one face in the crowd, but I knew it would be here soon enough. He had never let me down before, and I knew he wasn’t going to start on this very important day. It was time for me to head back into the house. The house that had been my home for the first twenty years of my life. The house I left only five years ago. The house I had left to move in with my love. The love I was going to marry today.

I met my father in the kitchen, next to the back door. He took my arm, and walked my down the aisle, where the man I loved so much was waiting for me. He was smiling, truly happy I was going to be his for the rest of our lives. I couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

Mr. Brightside – The Killers

I was only a little bit drunk, I swear. I had only had a few glasses of wine, nothing more. I promise. At least, I could only remember a few glasses of wine. Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I can’t remember what I did that night? Did something important happen?

You let some other guy take you home. Of course I followed you, you’re mine. And then, he was kissing you outside our front door, and you just let him. You touched his chest, and I know, that if I hadn’t intervened, you would’ve let him take you inside. You know what would’ve happened.

God, if only I had known. I would’ve made up with you much sooner. I’m really sorry, love. And that’s all I can say, you know that. I could say I won’t do it again, but the best I can do is try to never do it again.

You could always try not to drink that much alcohol. Or you could let me keep you by my side the next time we go to a party. I would make sure you don’t get drunk.

I love you. Forgive me?

Why?

Because I’m stupid and sorry and… all those other things.

He laughed.

Only this time. If you do this again, we’re over. Love you too.

Oxygen – A New Found Glory

I was gasping for air. I would never have thought it would be this way. He chuckled a bit when he saw I was struggling to breathe. I crashed my mouth against his for the second time, and instantly I felt better. I was able to breathe again. And this time it wasn’t as hard when I pulled away. It was still difficult to breathe, but not as much as the last time. I tried it again. What would happen when I kissed him again? Would it be even easier? This time, when I pulled away, I had to kiss him again immediately, I wasn’t able to breathe at all.

Don’t leave me here. You’re my oxygen.

He laughed, hugged me to his chest. Told me he would never leave me, that he couldn’t, because I was his oxygen just as much as he was mine.

Next To Me

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 12:08:44 GMT

I think it's safe to say I was a little confused when I wrote this, but when I read it a day later, it still made sense to me...

Next to me

I’ve never met you

and I never will

Still I can’t stop hoping

that someday you’ll be here.

Next to me.

Were You?

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 12:05:48 GMT

I wrote this about a year after I broke up with my boyfriend.
He really did the things I wrote about. He sent me messages pretending to have another girlfriend, he sent me messages saying he would kill himself. It has bothered me for long after, so I wrote this, hoping I could get it out of my mind...

Were you?

Were you trying

to make me jealous

by pretending

to have another?

Were you trying

to win me back

by telling me

those horrible things?

Were you trying,

all along,

to convince me

you were the one?

Because, honestly,

you did a really bad job.

Loving Something Less Than Perfect

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 19:17:31 GMT

Just something I came up with while babysitting...

Loving Something Less Than Perfect

When people ask me what made me love him at first. I always answer “His eyes.”

If you were ever to ask him what made me love him, he would tell you it were his eyes. Or maybe his laugh. Or maybe all of him, ‘cause he’s just that sexy. He would never tell you those last two possibilities were just a joke. He knows I loved his eyes first. I told him so when he asked me if he could buy me a drink.

“Only ‘cause I love your eyes.”

When he brought those drinks over to my table, I noticed his hands. I won’t say I had never seen hands like that, because they weren’t really that special. But they were elegant. When he sat down, he looked at me.

“Only my eyes?”

I shrugged.

“Well, maybe your hands too.”

The smile he then presented me with was almost breathtaking. Almost. His teeth weren’t really pearly white, and one of his front teeth missed a corner, but it was close to perfect. I never told him I loved his smile, though.

During the afternoon, I began to love his wit. He made me laugh, but was also able to have interesting discussions. When I stood to leave, he asked if I wanted to have dinner with him.

“I’d love to. I had a wonderful time this afternoon.”

At the restaurant, I learned he was stubborn, but because he was stubborn about paying for the food, I didn’t mind it that much. I thanked him for dinner by asking him with me to my apartment.

There I learned to love his kiss, his touch, and eventually I started to love his arms, when he held me close and made me feel safe. When I told him so, he promised to make sure he’d always be there to keep me safe.

In the weeks that followed, I met his friends, and they were wonderful. I visited him at his job, and thought it was awesome. Eventually, I met his parents, and I couldn’t do anything but adore them. I thought there was nothing about him I couldn’t love.

I was wrong. There were some things that annoyed me, but all those things I loved about him made up for it.

But, when I really started thinking, for the first time in a few months, I realised that all those things might have been what made me love him back then, but that there was something else that makes me love him so much now;

He is not afraid to show his love for me in public, even though we’re both guys.