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Sep. 19th, 2008 09:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
why_me_why_notTxtfics from earlier this week...
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wearethestars. Brendon & Spencer. 175 words.
Spencer looked up warily as Brendon bounded into the room. He was more jittery than usual, eyes a bit too bright, and Spencer had no idea what he had gotten into in the hours that he'd been gone.
“You okay, Brendon?”
Brendon jumped up to sit on the counter next to where Spencer was cutting up veggies for a salad. “I am just fine, SpencerSmith, fine as fairydust.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and set the knife away from Brendon. He didn't feel it was safe to have sharp objects in such close proximity to a bouncy Brendon, even if Zack had made the basic first aid class a prerequisite to this tour. “And just how fine is fairydust?” he wanted to know.
“Very very fine, Spence, one might even say microscopic.” Brendon reached over to snag something out of the salad bowl and laughed when Spencer swatted at him. “Besides,” he added, munching on a carrot, “fairydust is full of sparkle and magic, just like me!”
Yeah, Spence thought, Brendon is full of something anyway.
Foririsgirl12000. Bob & Frank. 350 words.
Bob's mumbling under his breath as they make their way up the incline. Frank can't make out the words but it's probably something about this is all Frank's fault. Whatever. Like it's his fault that he was distracted by how fucking adorable Bob is when he's sleeping. Yeah, okay, maybe he shouldn't have been trying to take a picture while he was driving but Jamia had to see this shit (seriously, so fucking adorable) and that monster groundhog shouldn't have run into the road like that. Frank is totally innocent, and he's going to remind Bob of that as soon as he can breathe again. He should maybe think about giving up the smokes.
When the ground levels out (fucking finally, leave it to Frank, or the groundhog actually because it’s still not Frank’s fault, to wreck the car in the middle of hilly terrain), Frank says, “I am so so innocent, Bryar. Almost an angel, I'm so innocent!”
Bob makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort - he's laughing at Frank, doesn't sound the least bit out of breath even though he smokes just as much as Frank does - and keeps walking as he replies, “Yeah, a fucking fallen angel maybe.”
Frank trips over a rock or some shit (there really was something in the road, he may be accident-prone and clumsy but he totally did not trip over his own feet) and tries to play it off by dropping to the ground like he intended to all along. Bob’s wise to Frank's ways, however, and turns around with a smirk.
“Or maybe a falling angel.”
Frank sticks his tongue out at Bob and crosses his arms, prepared to pout. He looks pointedly over Bob's shoulder at the caramel-colored sky and the mountains, thinking it would almost be pretty if they weren't on foot and he wasn't tired and they had cell reception.
“C'mon, Iero.” Bob says, holding out a hand to help Frank up. “I'll piggyback you to that house up there; we’ll hope they've got a landline.”
Frank smiles. Bob is totally his favorite.
Fornasus221. Dean & Sam. 125 words.
Sam was tired of eating on the road, tired of fast food and diners and truck stops. He wanted real food, comfort food. He wanted sandwiches on a blanket under a tree with Jess, long lunches on Thursday afternoons when their class schedules actually let them. He wanted dinners at Jess's parents' house, gathered around the scarred wood table, the food enhanced by the atmosphere. He wanted steaks on the grill on Becky's back deck, plate balanced on his knees as he and Jess tried to squeeze into the same lounge chair. Instead, he was getting a mass-produced burger meal served on a souvenir frisbee. He sighed and flicked a french fry at Dean's head, pushing his food away. He wasn't all that hungry anymore.
Forltlredhairdgirl. Draco/Harry. 200 words.
The candles have long since burnt low, their flickering flames only maintained by the spell woven around them. Draco had been sitting in the same spot for hours, telling himself he wasn't going to wait much longer for Harry to return, but he could never actually force himself to get up and leave. He studied the postcard on the table, a scene from some Muggle beach where Pansy and Blaise were wasting away the last of their summer days. They had invited him along, but he refused. Said he had to stay here, to wait for Harry to decide between him and Ginny, no matter what the decision was. He should have known better.
He pushed away from the table, stormed to the bedroom, and threw some clothes in a bag. He glanced at the framed photo on the nightstand – him and Harry, Blaise and Pansy, Hermione and Viktor, taken when they had traveled to Romania to visit Charlie Weasley, before Ginny had announced she was pregnant and wanted Harry home – and pushed it down on the table. He ignored the bits of broken glass that cut into his hands and decided the broken picture was enough of a note.
For
wearethestars. Brendon & Spencer. 175 words.Spencer looked up warily as Brendon bounded into the room. He was more jittery than usual, eyes a bit too bright, and Spencer had no idea what he had gotten into in the hours that he'd been gone.
“You okay, Brendon?”
Brendon jumped up to sit on the counter next to where Spencer was cutting up veggies for a salad. “I am just fine, SpencerSmith, fine as fairydust.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and set the knife away from Brendon. He didn't feel it was safe to have sharp objects in such close proximity to a bouncy Brendon, even if Zack had made the basic first aid class a prerequisite to this tour. “And just how fine is fairydust?” he wanted to know.
“Very very fine, Spence, one might even say microscopic.” Brendon reached over to snag something out of the salad bowl and laughed when Spencer swatted at him. “Besides,” he added, munching on a carrot, “fairydust is full of sparkle and magic, just like me!”
Yeah, Spence thought, Brendon is full of something anyway.
For
irisgirl12000. Bob & Frank. 350 words.Bob's mumbling under his breath as they make their way up the incline. Frank can't make out the words but it's probably something about this is all Frank's fault. Whatever. Like it's his fault that he was distracted by how fucking adorable Bob is when he's sleeping. Yeah, okay, maybe he shouldn't have been trying to take a picture while he was driving but Jamia had to see this shit (seriously, so fucking adorable) and that monster groundhog shouldn't have run into the road like that. Frank is totally innocent, and he's going to remind Bob of that as soon as he can breathe again. He should maybe think about giving up the smokes.
When the ground levels out (fucking finally, leave it to Frank, or the groundhog actually because it’s still not Frank’s fault, to wreck the car in the middle of hilly terrain), Frank says, “I am so so innocent, Bryar. Almost an angel, I'm so innocent!”
Bob makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort - he's laughing at Frank, doesn't sound the least bit out of breath even though he smokes just as much as Frank does - and keeps walking as he replies, “Yeah, a fucking fallen angel maybe.”
Frank trips over a rock or some shit (there really was something in the road, he may be accident-prone and clumsy but he totally did not trip over his own feet) and tries to play it off by dropping to the ground like he intended to all along. Bob’s wise to Frank's ways, however, and turns around with a smirk.
“Or maybe a falling angel.”
Frank sticks his tongue out at Bob and crosses his arms, prepared to pout. He looks pointedly over Bob's shoulder at the caramel-colored sky and the mountains, thinking it would almost be pretty if they weren't on foot and he wasn't tired and they had cell reception.
“C'mon, Iero.” Bob says, holding out a hand to help Frank up. “I'll piggyback you to that house up there; we’ll hope they've got a landline.”
Frank smiles. Bob is totally his favorite.
For
nasus221. Dean & Sam. 125 words. Sam was tired of eating on the road, tired of fast food and diners and truck stops. He wanted real food, comfort food. He wanted sandwiches on a blanket under a tree with Jess, long lunches on Thursday afternoons when their class schedules actually let them. He wanted dinners at Jess's parents' house, gathered around the scarred wood table, the food enhanced by the atmosphere. He wanted steaks on the grill on Becky's back deck, plate balanced on his knees as he and Jess tried to squeeze into the same lounge chair. Instead, he was getting a mass-produced burger meal served on a souvenir frisbee. He sighed and flicked a french fry at Dean's head, pushing his food away. He wasn't all that hungry anymore.
For
ltlredhairdgirl. Draco/Harry. 200 words.The candles have long since burnt low, their flickering flames only maintained by the spell woven around them. Draco had been sitting in the same spot for hours, telling himself he wasn't going to wait much longer for Harry to return, but he could never actually force himself to get up and leave. He studied the postcard on the table, a scene from some Muggle beach where Pansy and Blaise were wasting away the last of their summer days. They had invited him along, but he refused. Said he had to stay here, to wait for Harry to decide between him and Ginny, no matter what the decision was. He should have known better.
He pushed away from the table, stormed to the bedroom, and threw some clothes in a bag. He glanced at the framed photo on the nightstand – him and Harry, Blaise and Pansy, Hermione and Viktor, taken when they had traveled to Romania to visit Charlie Weasley, before Ginny had announced she was pregnant and wanted Harry home – and pushed it down on the table. He ignored the bits of broken glass that cut into his hands and decided the broken picture was enough of a note.
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Date: 2008-09-21 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 12:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:42 am (UTC)Bob & Frank are the best! And Brendon IS made of fairydust, I'm convinced!