accio niall / Comments

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THIS IS ON MY DASH

I AM DYING

Awww, you're welcome! Trust me, some readers will understand it. I know, I have been ridiculously busy with school and work and now my brother's wedding (which is today, I'm really excited).

I'm good, busy, but good. How are you? <3

lasmdfclkdsf YESS

okay so at the point when i sent it to you, i'd only seen the layout, summary, and read the first line of the preface.

either i'm so judgmental it HURTS (judge a book by its cover, yada yada), or i can just TELL that this story is THAT GOOD.

i'm probably going to comment it. i never comment. I'M IN LOVE O_O

http://stories.mibba.com/read/366361/Heaven-Sent/

UGHH.

FAVOURITE.

FAAAAAVOURITE.

i really don't know what i'm trying to say in that first paragraph. i mean, i do, but it so does not come across very well. hahahhahhahah this fic.

I tried to treat him as a brother, I really did. But he was never stupid and as long as I knew him, he was infuriatingly insightful. He liked the chase and I suppose he liked being rejected time after time. (He liked that he could unravel my "no"s with the touch of his lips.)

And when my heart beat like that, when he looked at me like I was everything and nothing at once, it was so hard to remember who we were.

la la la, this feels choppy

i'm sorry i woke you up :(

and okay, yes. it is 3:13 here. i'm going to try and not forget what time you are.

THANK YOU FOR THE STORIES.

i will subscribe to them all so i don't lose them.

i googled kennedy and i already forget what he looks like.

sigh.

and now i'm reading this girl's john story and kennedy is the other love interest and all i see is pat.

he is destined to be pat's twin, clearly.

also a;lsdkmfsdf you just woke up? what time is it over there? are we on the same time or are you an hour ahead (behind?)

i was up at seven this morning and i made myself stay in bed trying to sleep until nine when i finally couldn't take it anymore and i got up and...well. i got up and tried to write XD

this summer job is fucking up my weekend sleeping schedule. i can't sleep in anymore :( which is horrible, because i do so love to sleep. probably my favourite thing to do in this world, next to reading fic about sirius black.

OH M Y GOD. okay so on thursday and friday, my cramps were horrendous (i need to find a new word, how many times have i said that today?) and i was throwing up and askfasdf HORRIBLE and so i didn't work i just stayed in bed and alternated between sleeping and reading harry/sirius fic. OH MAN I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED SIRRY.

I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED SIRIUS FIC, IN GENERAL. OH MAN. OHHHHH MAAAANNNNN

THANK YOU

THE LAYOUTS ARE PRETTY SO THIS IS A GOOD START

oh my god mibba, way to sent my comment before i was ready >:(

anyway. UGH PERCY JACKSON. I READ THAT TEXT LAST NIGHT AND I WAS LIKE "MEGAN LET'S WATCH PERCY JACKSON" but instead we watched that look alike show and watched a girl get a make over and do a blake lively photo shoot and then we tried to figure out how old blake lively is because leonardo dicaprio is like 37 and it's weird

shut the fuck up your john and garrett stories are all i've been waiting for (MY WHOLE LIFE)

SEND ME THE GARRETT STORIES. i haven't really looked at fic revolving around him, because i kind of forget that any exist outside of yours bahah. and in all the john stories, the only band member they talk about besides john is kennedy, sooo0o0oo0000ooo0o

oh my god, speaking of kennedy. whenever i read about him in fic, i always picture patrick, but i KNOW that kennedy isn't patrick and then i'm like WAIT WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE and i can't picture his face and so i just keep picturing pat. and then the writer will randomly mention pat (being cute and saying something cute... i gather that pat is cute? lmfao) and then i'm like WOAH HOLD THE PHONE TWO PATRICKS IN ONE STORY

okay i'm really showering this time. I LOVE YOU.

on the bright side, it's already longer that the preface. maybe i'll just finish that one unfinished paragraph and post it. GOOD ENOUGH.

this is all i got written today, by the way:


My father was an absent presence in my life. He left with winter, and when I was old enough to understand symbolism, I would wonder why he hadn't left with summer. My memory of him was very clear, with a toothbrush moustache and dark hair that was always soft to touch. This father had warm dimples that shifted with his emotions; this father loved his wife and daughter.

Like any deserted young girl, I sought him out. I yearned for the day when he came back. He would kiss my mother, pick me up in his arms, and explain that it was all a huge mistake. He had been forced to leave us; someone was stalking him; he was a government spy; and so on. And we would laugh and hug and cry as the reel ended, our happy faces frozen on the backdrop of our white house.

These scenarios played in my mind, keeping my father's memory warm under the guise of rose-tinted glasses for a while. Movies and books helped; the outlandish plots and adventures that the protagonists experienced were ones I clipped and cut to fit my family. Perhaps he would return with a tan, having spent the last five (six, seven, eight...) years stranded on an unknown island. Perhaps he'd have taken on an English accent from the years he spent undercover in England, looking for a convict.

And then there were the scarier endings, when he would knock feebly on our door and Mom and I would find him barely standing, all skin and bones

Then I grew up, and I lost all my imagination and idealistic wishes. My memory of my father turned into a pig and I stopped waiting for him at the door. My mother and I were nothing more than tossed aside possessions. Mom had adjusted long ago, picked herself up and moved on, and I tried at sixteen to belatedly follow her lead.


BE PROUD. BE SO PROUD OF ME. WAY TO STAY ON TASK NIKKI. ATTA GIRL.

-_-

oh my god okay i am going to go have a shower and leave your comment page alone

I'M STILL MAD ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO FIND A JOHN STORY THAT IS UP TO MY STANDARDS UGH

(this also makes me really worried about my john story. now i'm looking at it, and i'm like WOULD I READ THIS? THIS BITCH HAS TO BE FLAWLESS ENOUGH FOR ME TO READ OR ELSE IT'S GETTING CANNED and that is worrisome because my writing is atrocious and i'm horrendous with plot and oh god, i really dont' want to delete this story. DON'T LET ME DELETE IT.)

what do you think of this line:

your vertebrae cut my fingers from beneath your shirt

i wrote it about a week ago in red gel pen in the middle of a page in the middle of my notebook, and i have no conceivable idea as to what to do with it but at the same time i am hopelessly in love with it.

you will be glad to know that i have decided to attempt to curl my hair with my straightener. megan showed me how to last night, so hopefully it works.

i need to shower. if i'm going out tonight to be miserable, i'm at least going to look good while at it.

i already have half of my outfit picked out. aqua booty shorts with black leggings, and my purple high tops. and then probably a baggy tanktop that shows my bra. i might be on my rag, but no one else has to know >:(

i just don't know what to do with my hair. it's at that stage where i need to cut it, but i can't afford it (plus, because of work, i'm not cutting it again until summer is over) and my bangs are in that stage where they seriously don't know what they're purpose in life is and you can't do ANYTHING with them ohmygod i want straight banes back alsdm fsdklj