MY SMILE IS A RIFLE
- קריאות 8,249
- הצבעות 198
- פרקים 15
מתמשך2h 22m
Last published יום ה׳, אפר׳ 18, 2019
A long, long time ago (+5 years) I started writing and publishing a John Frusciante Fanfic on tumblr. I really did enjoy writting a story about my favourite musician and how I portait him in my head. Writing has always ment so much to me and helped me cope with my own rather dark and destructive thoughts. Some of you seemed to really like the story I was coming up with and that made me so very happy. Sadly, 2014 ended bad for me and I gave up on everything I once loved so much. I isolated myself completely.
Im still on my road of/to recovery but somehow I stumbled over my old frufic again and I rememerd all these good vibes I got from the feedback I got. So yeah, Im picking up this story again and...maybe some of you will still stick with me and that story after all.
Take care. You're all beautiful and precious.
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johnfrusciante
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Sick of Love Songs (Sean&Kaycee) FINISHED
I met him a long time ago. I've known him for most of my life and out of all people, I've mostly spent my time with him, by his side whether it's the line at the tiny coffee shop around the corner, a seat on an airplane or the place that means the most, the dancefloor. We were kids when we shared the stage for the first time, him 14 and I a mere 13-year-old. Back then it all seemed so simple. Somewhere along the line, he found his way into my days. It was easy. He became my best friend, my shoulder to cry on when the weight got too heavy to carry. For the longest time, he was the rock I leaned on, the person I trusted to lift my feet off the ground and bring me back down safely. As we grew older, not much changed. He and I were one on the dancefloor, a united front with a bond we thought would never be broken. I still trusted him to be there when I reached out and to catch me if I fell. Still no bruising, at least not on the outside for the people watching to see. And there were many curious, expectant eyes. Even more voices to cheer us on and offer their input as to who we were, who we should be and who we were made for. I spent countless hours reading the comments made by people from the other side of the world. How we were magic together, how we were our best selves while connected by a song on the floor. How he looked at me and smiled, how he was never that excited to dance with anybody else or the way it showed that he loved me. It's never that simple in real life, behind the curtains of the stage where the eye of the viewer cannot reach. I often wished I could tell them I saw it too. Just reply to the comment that I felt it when he and I played our roles for a scene, once again made up by someone else. I wished I could tell them I felt it when we were alone, too. Because I did. But life has a funny way of working out. And sometimes, it doesn't work out. DISCLAIMER: This is pure fiction about Sean Lew and Kaycee Rice. None of this is real.הושלם![When Dreams Turn into Nightmares [DREAMNOTFOUND ANGST]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/255959273-256-k308707.jpg)
When Dreams Turn into Nightmares [DREAMNOTFOUND ANGST]
Life used to be so much better- so why did the fucking virus need to get in the way?! I loved my life- my friends- my mom- this has gone well to far. Year 2027. - "What are you doing out right now?! It's past 5!" The tall man looks up to me, then rushes over. "Um, sorry-" American. - Why would I even let some stranger into my house- and why do I feel this was good after all-? I mean I saw his arm, no mark, but still. I can't get rid of the suspicion of the mask either but- I feel- connected to him? Comfortable. This sense of a new- happiness. - "My wish is finally coming true. This is for you." - "they- are real-?" - "Sacrifices must be made for my wish. I'm not stopping until every last one falls apart." - "Please let me explain-" "Get the *fuck* out of my house." "I never wanted to." - THIS STORY IS COMPLETELY ORIGINAL! - ⚠️*LOTS OF ANGST*⚠️ ⚠️*AND SWEARING*⚠️ ⚠️*INOPROPO JOKES*⚠️ ⚠️*SUICIDE*⚠️ ⚠️*SELF HARM*⚠️ ⚠️*ABUSE*⚠️ #5 Virus *Cover art made by @DTHUNNYii on Twitter! They're a very good artist so make sure to check them out! :D* Story started on: January 22 2021 Story in time date starts on: June 16thהושלם
"Greenie." A John Frusciante/Anthony Kiedis story
So this was a totally stream-of-consciousness first attempt at a Red Hot Chili Peppers fanfic. John Frusciante is freshly 18, new to the band, and struggling with some burgeoning loving feelings towards his idol, bandmate, bully, and bestie: Anthony Kiedis. His insecurity gets the better of him one drunken night and the truth comes out after a game of strip poker. Sounds cliche? It might be, but I hope it's evocative. Features small cameos by Dave Navarro, Flea, and Chad Smith, but this story is a snapshot of John and Anthony's first sexual meeting. Angst, love, and eroticism balance on the edge of a knife... but this is just another night for Anthony Kiedis. **If you liked this, please leave a comment so I know! I'd be more willing to continue if I know people are reading it :) ** UPDATE: This has taken on a life of its own. Now a multi-chapter fic!הושלם
Forever is Crashing Down on Me (Austin Carlile)
"Forever?" I asked him, watching as his features all shined through with happiness. I tilted my head to the side as he let out a small laugh. "Forever," he agreed, evoking a smile from me. When Austin said it, I believed it, I believed it with every single fiber of my being. I didn't believe it with anyone from the past, not even Stephan, my ex fiance. I don't know what it was about Austin that made it believable, and I hopped that nothing would be able to take him away from me. I knew it was a lot to ask, and I would be fine if he decided to leave me. Austin was good for me, he really was. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he was good for me. He made me happy, I made him happy (as far as I could tell). He made me want to be a better person every day. I knew that he was more than what I wanted, and I was glad he was mine, that he has been mine for over a year. It would be hard if I had to leave his house one day knowing it would be the last time, but I would be able to deal with it. ~~~ {Note that I suck at writing descriptions so I kinda just put an actual part of the prologue as the description, sorry not sorry. Also warning for smut. There will be smut and that's a promise. It'll be terrible smut, but still smut of a sort. I do not own Of Mice & Men or any of the songs mentioned in this story. This story is purely fictional and just used for the enjoyment of writing and reading.}הושלם
In Where Gerard Is Awkward And Tries To Seduce Frank
Gerard works from 11 to 8 an Italian restaurant while sketching in the morning and afternoon when he can to sell his work. Frank works at his fathers and uncles Italian restaurant but his papa doesn't know he works as a prostitute from 9- when ever his last customer gets rid of their food Frank isn't blind. He can see Gerard from the kitchen when he showed off his smile because someone said they liked his hair. When someone was nice and didn't give him shit during his shift. He could see the way his hips swayed when he walked, seeming like he owned the place. Gerard, was oblivious to this until he was sick of him being an awkward, 25 year old virgin and got a list of prostitutes numbers off of his brothers boyfriend. ------- Smut, probably more smut, language, and whatever else I decided. I might add something triggering, don't know. Updates are probably scattered. I'm going to try and update at least once a week but right after a chapter I start another before slowly working on the next one. Then I get inspiration and write. By the way, my covers have nothing to do with the book. They're random aesthetics because this book is more fun and has somewhat of a plot to guide it through the story. There is a plot but this story is on the fun side and not very serious. Personally, I read fun books because then I can go back to an emotionally damaging one but whatever. My song choices also vary with the chapter and not always matching up. Anyways, still enjoy- ((Top Frank/bottom Gerard))הושלם
You Only Live Once
The relations between lead singer of rock/funk rock band Red Hot Chili Peppers Anthony Kiedis and a socially awkward , Y/N. However , that all changes when Y/N meets Anthony. Edit: I'm currently revising to make this applicable to all genders because I think that's fair. Also reader is 18-late 20sהושלם
Blood in the Margins: a collection of different poems, unfinished potential
FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.הושלם
Yours (Dave East AU)
I wrote this story many years ago, it got taken down so I am going to rewrite, please Enjoy the brand new version.הושלם
A Rush of Blood to the Head
[this was written when I was a young teen. I'm sorry] Just a Buckin fanfic. Also, my first story. It does have a happy ending. After a devastating fight on Christmas Eve, Chris left London and took refuge in his New York flat. He thought that this Christmas was gonna be his loneliest, that he wouldn't have anybody with him to share his thoughts and feelings. He thought that he deserved to die. He was wrong. Through a series of almost impossible incidents, he rediscovers forgotten memories and their significance in shaping his life, with the help of a mysterious green eyed lady. Thousands of thoughts cloud his mind, and hundreds of feelings sweep over him. The pain becomes unbearable. But every cloud has a silver lining. Everyone has a reason to live. Will Chris find his reason? Read on... (TW: Mentions of suicide, drug and alcohol usage, hallucinations, fighting and physical harm)הושלם
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הושלם
I met him a long time ago. I've known him for most of my life and out of all people, I've mostly spent my time with him, by his side whether it's the line at the tiny coffee shop around the corner, a seat on an airplane or the place that means the most, the dancefloor. We were kids when we shared the stage for the first time, him 14 and I a mere 13-year-old. Back then it all seemed so simple. Somewhere along the line, he found his way into my days. It was easy. He became my best friend, my shoulder to cry on when the weight got too heavy to carry. For the longest time, he was the rock I leaned on, the person I trusted to lift my feet off the ground and bring me back down safely. As we grew older, not much changed. He and I were one on the dancefloor, a united front with a bond we thought would never be broken. I still trusted him to be there when I reached out and to catch me if I fell. Still no bruising, at least not on the outside for the people watching to see. And there were many curious, expectant eyes. Even more voices to cheer us on and offer their input as to who we were, who we should be and who we were made for. I spent countless hours reading the comments made by people from the other side of the world. How we were magic together, how we were our best selves while connected by a song on the floor. How he looked at me and smiled, how he was never that excited to dance with anybody else or the way it showed that he loved me. It's never that simple in real life, behind the curtains of the stage where the eye of the viewer cannot reach. I often wished I could tell them I saw it too. Just reply to the comment that I felt it when he and I played our roles for a scene, once again made up by someone else. I wished I could tell them I felt it when we were alone, too. Because I did. But life has a funny way of working out. And sometimes, it doesn't work out. DISCLAIMER: This is pure fiction about Sean Lew and Kaycee Rice. None of this is real.
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