It's A Punk Rock Kiss, Asshole (Part 2/?) by miss-pippa-darling, literature
Literature
It's A Punk Rock Kiss, Asshole (Part 2/?)
“So, do you still want to go on that proper date with me?” It’s been three days since Frank busted in my place, and I haven’t heard anything from him until now. I was supposed to hang out with Mikey, but I guess Pete surprised him with some weekend getaway trip, so I’ve done nothing except sulk around in my apartment and sleep.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Sounds good. Don’t ask where we’re going; it’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Yup!”
“Okay. See you later, Gee.
It's a Punk Rock Kiss, Asshole (Part 1/?) by miss-pippa-darling, literature
Literature
It's a Punk Rock Kiss, Asshole (Part 1/?)
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Minding my own business seems to get me in more trouble than it should. All I’m trying to do is get some god damn gas from Circle K, and it’s probably too late to be in this part of town and think I’m safe, but I don’t really care. Every Starbucks is closed, this is the closest place that’s open by my place, and shitty Circle K coffee is better than no coffee, which is the situation I’m left with since my piece of crap coffee maker broke this morning.
I’m about to pull the hose out of my car, but a shout from a
Hurricane - 13. by KilljoyMakeSomeNoise, literature
Literature
Hurricane - 13.
Frank has been studying the ceiling for a good twenty minutes. It's still the same ivory colour that it's always been, perfectly untouched and clean with no marks or anything out of the ordinary. It was just a ceiling, but Frank was hoping for something a bit more interesting for him to take his mind off his thoughts.
Brendon Urie. That was the only thing to be in his head in the past few hours after kissing Gerard. Urie and his men, laughing and taunting, making him feel like scum and guilty for enjoying what he and Gerard had shared. He knew it didn't matter anymore, that his previous life was behind him and that moving on should be so eas
Famous Last Words - Chapter 2 by miss-pippa-darling, literature
Literature
Famous Last Words - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Marceline
After a few hours of driving on back roads through a desert, the landscape turned into grassy hills, then a dense forest. Hidden by the thickness of the trees was a huge building. “St. Acacius of Byzantium Preparatory Academy” was printed in bold letters on the cement sign in front of the wrought iron gates. “Nice set up you’ve got here,” I noted, looking around at the large front building.
Gerard slowly pulled to a stop in front of the building. Billie Joe was dead asleep in the passenger seat, his cheek smashed against the window. “Thanks.” He chuckled and shook Billie
Famous Last Words - Chapter 1 by miss-pippa-darling, literature
Literature
Famous Last Words - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Marceline
“Hey, pretty girl, what’s your story?” A voice said from behind me. Even though I live in a small town where I know just about everyone, being called to in the middle of the night can still be pretty unsettling. I’d hardly call myself pretty either: my hair was in a haphazard ponytail, with only mascara and outfitting the ever so cool rain jacket with band shirt, hole adorned old jeans that belong to my brother, and boots.
“Why the hell should I tell you?” I called back to the voice, it’s owner still not showing itself.
“If you tell me, I’ll let you see
In the whole entire world, Frank's favourite thing to do was dream. Dreams meant calmness, they meant no pain or suffering or torment. They meant make-believe, fairytale and adventure. New worlds to explore, new people to meet. Everyday Frank would await the moment his head could hit the pillow and unconsciousness would envelope him because in that state of sleep, Frank saw him. He spoke with him; he was existing with him. It went on for years, talk of this boy, of this other being that Frank had created. His parents had, at first, just passed it off as a normal thing for an eight year old to do. But as the years progressed, so did the talk o
He builds coffins. He had spent his life crafting them, not because he had to or because he wanted to, but because he needed to. He had built them since he was little, nothing else had ever seemed as interesting to make. Everyone wanted his coffins, they were works of art. Beautiful, unique pieces of art that were only seen for a short period of time before being laid in the ground. The rich and poor came to him for coffins whenever they needed one; he always wanted to please them.
For years, he’d had his own coffin waiting for him. But now he was making a special one. No one had asked for this coffin, but he made it with love.