what? a meme
Mar. 15th, 2004 03:53 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
clumsygyrl.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
popslash_lollipopsi posted this in my own journal, but since this is a ficlet requesting community. i thought that this'd be okay. hey, mods? let me know if i'm breaking any rules. i'll take the post down lickety split.
Choose one of my icons and request a ficlet inspired by it.
linkage will pop up in a new window, because i'm html anal like that. *wink*
partially x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fic_requests & mostly posted to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clumsygyrl
Choose one of my icons and request a ficlet inspired by it.
linkage will pop up in a new window, because i'm html anal like that. *wink*
partially x-posted to
fic_requests & mostly posted to clumsygyrl
Tags:
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no subject
Date: 2004-03-15 04:05 pm (UTC)TrickC!
My OTP, I'm =VERY= easy to please when it comes to my OTP, lol...
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Date: 2004-03-15 04:20 pm (UTC)fandom!fuckyouup!joey
but the rest of me says
jc!star!pornstar!cg
So whicheva :)
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Date: 2004-03-15 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-15 05:29 pm (UTC)Please?!?
no subject
Date: 2004-03-15 05:59 pm (UTC)you've got some nice icons there!
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Date: 2004-03-16 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 11:51 am (UTC)i hope this is okay. apparently cheesy schmoop was the call for today. heh.
------
Parts
JC loved Chris and his laugh. It was infectious, nothing like the freaky donkey bray he had. He loved the way that Chris’ eyes would crinkle up at the corners, brown eyes warm and open. His eyes crinkled up so much at times, they disappeared completely.
JC watched Chris bounce around the Quiet Room. Literally bounce from person to person, a mass of energy and nerves. Pre-show jitters even after all these years. JC loved those parts of Chris too. Manic and crazy and just so very Chris.
The sounds of running feet and shouted curses the familiar and almost soothing background noise to JC’s life. Still watching Chris, JC smiled. Somewhere between wardrobe and the Quiet Room, Chris’ hair had ended up being flattened on one side, probably from trying to headbutt Justin. His clothes untucked and his laces untied.
“He looks like a really big six year old,” Lance drawled watching JC watch Chris.
JC turned to Lance, crinkly eye disappearing smile in place the sharp weird donkey bray of a laugh escaping, and said, “Yeah, but it’s Chris.”
Chris looked up at the sound of his name and bounded over to JC throwing himself over JC wrapping his body over and around JC’s.
The sounds of both their laughs mingled and mixed together.
This was the part of Chris that JC loved the best. The part that meant Chris was his.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 01:10 pm (UTC)EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
lol
LOVED it, Thanks! :D
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Date: 2004-03-17 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 09:05 pm (UTC)-----
Translation
The sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh, and the sharp crack of bone breaking echoed loudly in the dim shadows of the hallway.
“What the fuck did you call him?”
The question asked between clenched teeth and spit out, bitten off sounds, as guttural as the sounds of the language filtering in between the dull bass thud of the European techno.
“Schwuchtel!” The big blond German spat between mouthfuls of blood, and what Lance thought was a tooth. “Schlampe!”
Chris’ face turned red, and he whispered something into Joey’s ear. Apparently whatever, that words meant… Joey was not happy about. Joey’s bloody knuckles flexed, vibrating anger.
Lance looked from Chris, the German, and Joey. He had no idea what was going on, what had caused Joey to go from dancing happily bopping to the trip happy beat, to turn into this.
“Apologize.” Joey gritted out at the guy on the floor.
“Fick dich ins Knie.”
Chris grabbed Joey’s arm, but Joey was too fast, too anger. All Lance saw was a blur of limbs and all he heard was the sound of Joey’s fist connecting with the German’s face.
Then it was over.
All that was left to show for Joey’s anger and the German’s insults, whatever they had been, was Chris pulling Joey out of the club toward their hotel. His little hands cradling Joey’s bigger, bloodier ones.
Lance had no idea what was going on, had no idea what had went on.
All he knew was the gentle press of Chris’ lips to Joey’s and the softly whispered words. “Icb liebe Dich.”
Lance didn’t have to have that translated. He smiled and watched the two touch and he understood it all.
---
Schwuchtel- Fag
Schlampe- Slut
Fick dich ins Knie- Fuck you
Icb liebe Dich- I love you
no subject
Date: 2004-03-21 09:33 pm (UTC)-----
Tell Me
Sometimes the prettiest lies are the ones you tell yourself.
Sometimes the most convincing ones are the prettiest.
Justin watches JC move. He’s always watched JC move, whether it’s the simple act of reaching up to put the cereal box back on the shelf or him moving like liquid sex on the dance floor. Justin’s always watched JC move.
JC listens to Justin. JC’s has always listened Justin speak, talk, sing, for as long as he can remember knowing Justin. The words, vowels, and consonants falling like sound droplets in a wash of vocal rain. JC’s always listened to Justin.
Justin can always tell if JC’s worn his clothes. They always hold a lingering scent, something that’s solely JC. Justin can never figure out if it’s soap, cologne, or just JC. Justin doesn’t wash the clothes, not until they start to smell like nothing but himself again.
JC loves to be touched. He loves all kinds of touches. The casual brush of hands against hands or the sweaty press of skin on skin right before release, he loves to touch and be touched. JC loves it best when Justin hugs him so tight that he can’t breathe, but he never tells Justin to let him go.
Both JC and Justin imagine what the other tastes like. JC thinks that Justin would taste like honey and milk, like his skin. Golden and rich in some places, smooth and cream in others. Justin thinks that JC would taste spicy, exciting almost. JC looks like he’d set your mouth on fire one moment, and be sharpcoolmint the next.
Justin shakes his head at JC’s offer. Always backs down, away. Justin always acts like a prick for three days after JC offers. JC always offers sex. Like an addict looking for a fix, Justin shoots him a disgusted glare and tells JC to fuck off.
JC never offers anything beyond sex with Justin, even though that’s what he means when he offers it.
Justin never asks, and never apologizes for being a dick. Justin’s never really mad at JC. The person he’s really denying and lying to is himself. Justin would always take JC up on his offer, if he knew that it was more to JC than just sex.
Sometimes the lies you tell each other are the easiest to swallow.
Once you get past the taste of regret.
[partially inspired and title partially from Fleetwood Mac’s Sweet Little Lies]
no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 12:11 am (UTC)and i apologize for the title. heh.
-----
[Punk] Boy Meets [Barista] Boy
All he wanted was a fuckin’ drink. The pit had been rough and thrumming with energy. Bodies pushing against each other, like rough angry sex, just with clothes on. Lance grinned at that analogy, the soft weave of the kilt skimming his thighs with each step. His skin felt over sensitized, rubbed raw from the adrenaline. His throat and mouth however were as dry as cotton.
He blinked out at the light of the coffeshop, sharpbright against his eyes, even as dim as they were. He glared at the patrons. The energy of the pit still buzzing under his skin. The night was still young and the cops had shut them down way too early. Fuckin’ pigs.
The guy behind the counter smirked at him. Too gangly and too preppy for his tastes. “Gimme a water, man.”
A sandy colored eyebrow went up and he shook his head. “Jace, take this order. It’s my fifteen.”
‘Jace’ came out from the back room carrying a large carafe of coffee, it gleamed bright silver in the muted light. Unlike his coworker, he smiled at Lance with actual friendliness. He wiped his hands on his apron and leaned over the counter. “What can I do you for?”
Lance swallowed, tasting the sweat and grit from the club settling in the back of his throat. “Just a water…” The guy’s name tag read, ‘JC’. So ‘Jace’ was ‘JC’, huh.
“Sure thing.” JC said grabbing a bottle from the mini fridge behind the counter. “Two bucks, man.”
Lance fumbled and reached into the top of his boot to pull out the wad of cash and ID cards. “Uh, here.” He winced at the limp sweaty bills. “Sorry.”
JC just laughed and put the bills in the register. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve gotten worse.” He leaned on the counter and looked Lance up and down. “Who was playing tonight?” He held out the bottle.
Lance blinked and took the bottle twisting off the cap. “Uh, MurderKill Dolls and Napalm Nellies.”
“Ahh, you should be there when the Poison Kitties are playing. Place is fuckin’ insane.” JC grinned and nodded to the water. “You gonna drink it or just hold it?”
Lance looked down at the bottle, condensation running over his fingers. Blushing, he tipped the bottle to his mouth taking down a gulp of ice cold water. “Uh, yeah. Well. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me man. You paid for it.” JC said with a wink. He looked Lance up and down. “Nice.”
“The kilt?” Lance asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
JC’s smile grew and he nodded. “That too.”
Lance smirked and wiped his face on his shirt. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Yeah, you just may.”
Lance walked out of the shop grimacing hearing the faint strains of some boyband playing in the background as he left. He grimaced harder realizing he’d never given JC his name. He drained the water bottle and tossed it into a dumpster. He smiled, guess that meant he’d have to go back and give it to him.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 08:52 am (UTC)But amazing doesn't even begin to cover this. It makes me want to look you up, go to a microbrewery and make some of that 'justin dark' and share a six pack with you over pizza and fleetwood mac.
Thank you. Really.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 10:41 am (UTC)See a nice pitcher of 'justin dark' [though not a big beer fan, heh.] and some pizza with some fleetwood playing in the background sounds like a lovely evening.
you're welcome sweetheart. i wanted it to be good, it was for you! heh
no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 06:49 pm (UTC)------
Something To See
The casual brush of hands, the guiding pressure on the small of his back, the slow secret smile exchanged during interviews, backstage, or even on the bus, all little nothings meaning something so much more.
The other three were stunned when they’d finally come out and told them the truth. Chris thought it was funny, how the people he called brothers were so out of the loop, while fangirls around the world wrote stories on them. Genres and groups of fiction devoted to them.
Them, us, together.
Chris watches Lance play with Leighton and he can’t help but smile. Moving to crouch next to him and the whirling twirling bundle of blonde ringlets, he brushes his hand against Lance’s lower back.
Lance turns, flashing Chris a smile, blazing white bright in happiness. “Hey, did you see?”
Chris nods and leaves his hand where it is. He sees it all.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 12:01 am (UTC)-----
Non-Conformist
He never sat with anyone. Back always to the wall, sitting in the corner, and seeming like he didn’t see the rest of the school, the rest of the world.
People said that JC was weird. Flighty, arty, flakey, weirdo, or a freak.
He knew that’s what they all said about him. He kind of reveled in it. It’s just that he didn’t give a fuck really what they thought of him. He glared at the jocks in the hall who called him a fag or a fairy, but they didn’t seem to mind when he let them suck him off. He flipped off the administration who nagged him constantly, butting in on his affairs, wondering why he drew in black all over his books, his papers, his skin. He sneered at the plastic girls who walked the halls who snickered as he passed by, commenting on his black shirts, battered Docs, or precisely smudged eyeliner. His make up way better applied than their pre/post teen approximation at what defined attractive.
Ironically, he was hurting. He’d lost more than most of these people would ever have. Who ever wrote/sang/cried that breaking up was hard to do, wasn’t singing for singing’s sake. He’d miss Joey, but JC could forgive him. No one could stay mad at Joey, not when Joey was a born again Heterosexual.
Someone sat in his spot. His dark little corner, where he watched the rest of the school glide on by on their little high school delusions and illusions. He glared at the guy.
‘The Guy’ glared right on back. His shirt sleeve shifted revealing a sleeve of tattoos. Sunglasses perched half way on his nose, just far down enough to glare at JC. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
“You’re in my seat.” JC gritted out, watching the subtle play of muscles under artfully decorated skin.
The Guy smirked at him and patted his thigh. “Plenty of room cupcake.”
JC bit back a snarl. “Get the fuck out of my seat.”
The Guy kept right on smirking, but got up and move to the left, freeing JC’s seat. “Happy?”
JC threw himself into the chair, squirming a bit. The normally cool metal was warm. He glared at The Guy. “Who are you?”
The Guy leaned back and looked JC up and down crossing his arms over his chest. “The someone you’ve been waiting for?”
“Fuck you.” JC said looking out at the sea of faceless names and nameless faces.
“Not yet, cupcake. But hey you could get lucky.” The Guy said arms still crossed. “Everyone here so equally shallow and dense?” He asked following JC’s gaze.
“No, some are assholes who take other people’s seats.” JC spat out.
The Guy actually smiled at that. “I like you. The name’s AJ, AJ McLean. What’s your name sunshine?”
JC snorted and actually repressed the urge to smile back. “Sunshine?”
“Yeah, your eyes remind me of summer skies and shit.” AJ said forward smile in place.
JC snorted again and then looked at AJ. “JC Chasez. Resident freak and outcast.”
“Well,” AJ said with a grin tracing the pen marks on JC’s forearm. “I happen to be a fellow freak, and don’t mind fraternizing with them.”
JC watched the finger travel up and down the design. His focus solely on that light brush of skin on skin. Everything and everyone else fading in the background. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” AJ said with a smile.
JC leaned back, but kept his arm under AJ’s fingertips. “Then you can call me Sunshine.”
AJ laughed, and it only took JC a moment for his laughter to join AJ’s.
Neither noticed that everyone was looking at them.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 12:55 am (UTC)-----
Now and Again
It wasn’t like it happened all the time.
It had started out with the in dating. Germany were the years of Joey and JC, JC and Chris, and then Joey, JC, and Chris. The younger ones, when both respective mommas were out of the picture, practiced, played, and explored with each other. It was never mentioned out right. No plans were made.
No brotherly pact was agreed on.
It just happened.
No one can say when it all happened at the same time for all of them. Or when they all happened to happen together. It might have been the end of the first US tour. It was somewhere around there.
Justin’d been lying on the couch, really lying on top and over Chris and Lance. JC was sprawled on the floor picking through the M&Ms and tossing all the green ones into Joey’s mouth. No one knew why, it was just something that was.
The rest of the night passed in fragmented pictures and pieces. Justin’s mouth pressed tight over Chris’, the kiss a frustrated culmination of a thousand innocent and not so innocent touches . Joey’s body covering JC’s, candy spreading out on the floor under them crushing out a multi colored rainbow of cracked sugar shells. Lance helping Justin and bring Chris gasping to release. JC and Justin twisted together, slick skin against slick skin, muscles corded contracting and releasing energy and tension. Lance’s pale gold skin against Joey’s darker tones.
Sounds of muttered praises and names and prayers to God, mingling and overlapping in a harmony and melody of shared brotherhood and love.
When it was over, when they were lying in a wash of sex and early morning light. There were no accusations, no exclamations of disgust or horror.
It was natural. Just another way that they fit.
It didn’t happen all the time, but often enough that it meant something.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 01:08 am (UTC)*glows*
Date: 2004-03-23 01:56 am (UTC)Oh. My. God. This is the exact JC and AJ that I wanted to write. Uh. Not for the piece that I mentioned, but guh. Characterisation is all just there.
Plus, the third paragraph broke me ded. Also, you must be psychic, because my AJ here (http://theamazingrace.sanitys-requiem.net/episodes/episode1_1.html) thinks that JC is the only sunshine in his world.
Waaah. I love you! ♥
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:48 am (UTC)That was... just WOW!
Lance's pale gold skin against Joey's darker tones.
YES!
Thank you!
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Date: 2004-03-23 07:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 11:25 am (UTC)Re: *glows*
Date: 2004-03-23 01:04 pm (UTC)The third paragraph actually was the first I wrote. So yay!
I love you too! *smooch*
*scampers off to read episode 1*
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Date: 2004-03-23 01:11 pm (UTC)You're very welcome. ;)
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Date: 2004-03-23 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-24 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-24 11:25 am (UTC)