WIP Meme
Post a sentence (or two or a paragraph) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
"Yeah, well," Frankie said. "At least the zombies can't, like, call you gay and break your Batman action figures before they eat you."
But Spencer makes up for his infuriating good luck by being awesome. He brings Brendon over for dinner and makes his mom make veggie burgers, and they all get it right there. Spencer's house is the only place where Brendon is safe, where nobody ever acts like he's a girl. Because he's not. A girl, that is. He's really not, even if he looks like one, even if his birth certificate says he is. He's not a girl.
"Don't touch that, you don't need it," Patrick said, rushing over to him. He took the contraption out of Pete's hands and shut it off. "Let's try and be productive. What do you need?"
But that day he had woken up with a sinus headache from hell and snot everywhere, and Jon had made him stay him bed and even brought him up chicken soup right before the lunch rush. Brendon had spent the whole day watching cartoons and cuddling with the cats, which had been nice.
Pete wasn’t really very good at being a normal guy, though. Before Bronx, he had been so close to giving him. To quitting his job, to divorcing Ashlee, to joining a stupid band, to driving back to that fucking parking lot and doing it right this time. Bronx had changed everything. Now Pete just hoped Bronx would grow up to be like Ashlee and not like him.
"Yeah, well," Frankie said. "At least the zombies can't, like, call you gay and break your Batman action figures before they eat you."
But Spencer makes up for his infuriating good luck by being awesome. He brings Brendon over for dinner and makes his mom make veggie burgers, and they all get it right there. Spencer's house is the only place where Brendon is safe, where nobody ever acts like he's a girl. Because he's not. A girl, that is. He's really not, even if he looks like one, even if his birth certificate says he is. He's not a girl.
"Don't touch that, you don't need it," Patrick said, rushing over to him. He took the contraption out of Pete's hands and shut it off. "Let's try and be productive. What do you need?"
But that day he had woken up with a sinus headache from hell and snot everywhere, and Jon had made him stay him bed and even brought him up chicken soup right before the lunch rush. Brendon had spent the whole day watching cartoons and cuddling with the cats, which had been nice.
Pete wasn’t really very good at being a normal guy, though. Before Bronx, he had been so close to giving him. To quitting his job, to divorcing Ashlee, to joining a stupid band, to driving back to that fucking parking lot and doing it right this time. Bronx had changed everything. Now Pete just hoped Bronx would grow up to be like Ashlee and not like him.