The Fishie Bowl

More Hairbrained

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 03:07:45 GMT

Gah, I haven't updated this thing in forever. So I'm gonna post a bunch of chapters tonight, since I've already posted a continuation of this fic.

Chapter 2: Coffee, Tea, or...

Type your cut contents here.

*points to first chapter for disclamer*
    On with the story!

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    Wufei Scratched his head, sure he didn't have to pull it back and drench it in those
oils just yet.

    No one was supposed to be up yet, so he could just go start the teapot and Trowa's
coffeemaker.

    Though the drink tasted absolutely vile the grounds sure smelled wonderful.

    While Wufei was busy enjoying the smell of the stuff, he didn't notice anyone
coming up on him until a hand grabbed his hair.

    Not so much that it hurt, but it was being pulled around a bit as if someone
was looking at it and contemplating what it was.

    Shit.

    It was Trowa.

    "So this is what it looks like without all that stuff in it."

    "Gah! Let me go!"

    "Hm...I thought you hated coffee..."

    "It smells nice...Hey, don't change the subject!" Wufei's lips drew together
in a pout.

    "So do I smell nice in the morning?"

    "Yes." Was the blurted answer with round eyes.

    "Good."

And does anyone know how to put pictures of lets say, desktops, on here without using photobucket or a like site?

Fanfictions

Thu, 11 May 2006 00:07:06 GMT

Okay, I've written a total of two fanfics.

One being a 3x5 from Gundam Wing, that's now 13 chapters long.

And the other being a possible RikuxSora from Kingdom Hearts, and I might continue it or just leave it alone.

Anyway, everything I write is very short (less than 4 pages) and I keep doing it, whether I get feed back or not. Although feedback is always nice.

Okay, well, I'm gonna post my super short first chapter of Hairbrained Stories (the 3x5).

Off we go!

Type your cut contents here.

Okay, I SWEAR I don't own Gundam Wing, and this, because I don't feel like typing it over and over, is the only disclaimer in the fic.

************************************************

How does it do that?

Gel?

Hairspray?

Glue?

Maybe he should just ask him...

No, he shouldn't. He got offended when Duo asked him how his hair was so shiny.

Stupid people can't understand the concept of hair oils.

Besides, if he didn't do it, his hair was curly.

Wufei shook his head, remembering all the humiliation he got from the other bouts
his age about his hair.

Just then, Trowa walked out of his room, scratching his stomach just above his
extremely low cut baggy pajama bottoms.

What the hell?

It does that NATURALLY?!

My ice cream attacked my cake and melted all over it...

Tue, 09 May 2006 03:52:42 GMT

Today's the dad's birthday. And my ice cream attacked my cake and melted all over it, maybe I should put it in a blender and eat it like a milkshake with cake chunks...

Aaaaaany crap...here we go...this first post is kind of forward...

Okay. So I write stuff. I didn't feel like posting a fanfic chapter just yet, so I guess I'll post the first chapter of an original fic I wrote, then get down to it with the fanfictions.

This story is called The Foot, and it's the first short story I wrote, it was originally 10 pages long, but I decided to rewrite it into chapters. So off we go.

The Foot: Chapter One

Type your cut contents here.

    The Foot

    Ian lay on the side of the dirt trail, leading through the gradually thinning forest, listening to the sound of his own breathing and his stomach growl furiously. Well it would...he hadn’t put anything in it for about four days. Except water of course. It was only ten more miles to town. But he was just too tired.

    “It’s easier to just lay here anyways.”

    A squirrel, startled by the sudden burst of noise from the listless body near it started and scrambled up it’s tree.

    Ian sighed. He had no horse, or even a cart horse to carry his possessions, so he couldn’t really blame himself for collapsing, could he? So he just lay down here about twelve hours ago and watched people go by.

    He never knew that you could tell what kind of person a person was just by the shoes by they were wearing, or weren’t wearing. He had been passed by six people. The first two were peasant or poor farmers. The first wasn’t wearing shoes at all, the second had cloth bags on his feet.

    Ian curled his feet on his worn, but warm, shoes and was glad he had them at all.

    The last four people, were actually a group of people on horses, with shiny leather boots. They had laughed and took bets on how long he’d been dead as the passed by.

    Suddenly, something yanked himout of his thoughts.

    Well, more like stomped.

    There was a foot on his back, and what he supposed it’s opposite right in front of his line of vision. Well, it wasn’t exactly a welcome thing, so he decided to make his discomfort known.

    “Hey, you know, you’re standing on my back, and it’s not exactly the best feeling right now.”

    “Sorry, thought you were dead, and since you aren’t, you’re laying where I was walking, so you were kind of asking for it.”

    “I haven’t eaten anything for four days, I think I kind of have an excuse here, I can’t even stand up.” Ian replied, a bit worse for wear, “And why are you going this way anyways?”

    “To make you ask why.”

    “Well, I asked, the polite thing now would be to tell me.”

    “I already told you”

    “You positively did not! You answered my question with another question, that doesn’t count as a true answer. Now tell me!”

    “Tell you what? The price of peas? My favorite color? Or perhaps - ”

    “No, no, NO! I just wanted to know why you came this way, nothing else, okay?”

    “You need help standing up?”

    “Didn’t I just tell you-HEY! What’re you - get your hands off - I can’t - Oof...Ow...”

    He rose to his hands and knees, after being pulled up, falling and hitting his head on a near by tree. It was the flaky kind of grey-ish bark, the kind that got stuck under your fingers when you tried to peel it off.

    “Goodness, you really can’t stand up can you?” said The Foot.

    “Didn’t I just tell you that?”