ext_153168 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
xxoutofreachxx.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-02-23 04:04 pm
xxoutofreachxx.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-23 04:04 pm
(no subject)
Title: Fake
Pairing: Domlijah
Rating: PG
Summary: Innocent Drabble
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone or make claims on their sexuality. This should probably be beta-ed, but yeah it isn’t (just like everything else I do), forgive me.
Feedback: everyone who replies gets waffles. Ok I lie.
It was a game to them. Give the girls a little something and they would always come back for more. A hug. Grinding on TRL. Kiss. It was irresistible and everyone knew it.
“Their publicists make them hide their true love; the world wouldn’t accept it and their careers would suffer.” If they only knew. Their publicists encouraged them. It helped their careers. A smack on the ass equals millions of searches for Dominic Monaghan and Elijah Wood on the internet. They knew about the stories and they heard the screams everywhere they went. One instant of touching could make 10,000 girls, and boys if you want to be politically correct, faint. They loved the attention. They gave their audience what they wanted.
Flashing cameras. The same questions from scandal hungry reporters. Girls in too tight clothing lined up for miles waiting for the touching.
Their publicists would seek each other out in the crowd. Nudge them towards each other from across the red carpet. They’d embrace. His head would rest in the crook of his neck for a moment. Their eyes would meet.
“God I fucking hate you,” he’d say through clenched teeth, never letting his perfect smile fall.
“Fuck off, Dommie. Do it for the girls.”
Pairing: Domlijah
Rating: PG
Summary: Innocent Drabble
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone or make claims on their sexuality. This should probably be beta-ed, but yeah it isn’t (just like everything else I do), forgive me.
Feedback: everyone who replies gets waffles. Ok I lie.
It was a game to them. Give the girls a little something and they would always come back for more. A hug. Grinding on TRL. Kiss. It was irresistible and everyone knew it.
“Their publicists make them hide their true love; the world wouldn’t accept it and their careers would suffer.” If they only knew. Their publicists encouraged them. It helped their careers. A smack on the ass equals millions of searches for Dominic Monaghan and Elijah Wood on the internet. They knew about the stories and they heard the screams everywhere they went. One instant of touching could make 10,000 girls, and boys if you want to be politically correct, faint. They loved the attention. They gave their audience what they wanted.
Flashing cameras. The same questions from scandal hungry reporters. Girls in too tight clothing lined up for miles waiting for the touching.
Their publicists would seek each other out in the crowd. Nudge them towards each other from across the red carpet. They’d embrace. His head would rest in the crook of his neck for a moment. Their eyes would meet.
“God I fucking hate you,” he’d say through clenched teeth, never letting his perfect smile fall.
“Fuck off, Dommie. Do it for the girls.”
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you've stimulated my brain; that's borderline impossible. so good job. :)