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Sep. 16th, 2012 12:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
why_me_why_notStolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
asimplechord and harriet_vane:
Trope meme: pick one of the choices below and give me a character/pairing and any other relevant details. I'll write something. Or, if you want, I'll give you my opinions on that trope.
1. genderswap
2. bodyswap
3. fuck-or-die
4. huddling for warmth
5. pretending to be married/dating
6. first times
7. amnesia
8. cross-dressing
9. forced to share a bed
10. time travel
11. alternate universe (pick one!)
12. accidental-baby-acquisition
13. hurt/comfort
14. telepathy
15. high school / college AU
asimplechord and harriet_vane:Trope meme: pick one of the choices below and give me a character/pairing and any other relevant details. I'll write something. Or, if you want, I'll give you my opinions on that trope.
1. genderswap
2. bodyswap
5. pretending to be married/dating
6. first times
7. amnesia
10. time travel
11. alternate universe (pick one!)
13. hurt/comfort
14. telepathy
15. high school / college AU
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2012-09-16 06:51 pm (UTC)#9, Jake & Heather. AKA most awkward ever.
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Date: 2012-09-16 08:08 pm (UTC)Heather sighed and rolled over to stare at the lump on the floor. "Get up here."
"No, I'm fine."
Heather could hear his teeth practically chattering from the cold, something she really only thought happened in cartoons. She rolled her eyes. "Liar. The bed's plenty big enough. Don't make me break out the teacher voice."
Jake huffed out a laugh and slowly made his way from the floor to the bed. Even though he was on top of the covers and on the other side of the mattress, Heather could feel the chill coming off him. Stubborn man. It was his fault they were in this situation anyway. If he hadn't told the couple at the farmhouse Heather was his wife, they wouldn't be in the same bedroom, with one bed.
Heather had gotten over her feelings for Jake. Mostly. They were partly hero-worship to begin with, and then there was the Emily thing, and Beck. What feelings remained she was able to push down and ignore when she and Jake were thrown together. Again, mostly.
Tonight was different, though. Tonight wasn't "working together to rebuild the school" or "providing a united front against a group of jerks passing through the area." Tonight was sharing a bed because they had been caught out in a storm.
Even fully clothed, on opposite sides of the bed, and with the covers between them, it was seven kinds of awkward. Heather didn't think she would ever sleep, even as she tried to match the pattern of her breathing to Jake's, the sound loud in the quiet room.
Sleep finally came, though, and when Heather woke to sunlight peeking in the windows and Jake's arms around her, she wasn't sure if she was still asleep or not. She knew she was awake, though, when Jake stiffened behind her and practically jumped out of the bed, apologizing.
Heather buried her head in the pillow and hoped the weather had cleared up enough that they could leave today. If she had to go through another night of this, she'd be liable to do something she'd regret.
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Date: 2012-09-17 02:00 pm (UTC)I will never not want them together. I liked Emily, and I liked Beck, but yeah.
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Date: 2012-09-17 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-20 03:56 am (UTC)It made no fucking sense how cold the desert got at night, given how hot it was when the sun was up. The quiet seemed to make it colder, and as fucked up as it was, Walt almost missed Ray and his ridiculous rants. At least laughing at his dumbass would have made Walt forget he was cold.
Ray wasn't here, though. It was only Walt and Brad and a million miles of dark, desolate desert as far as the eye could see. They were on watch, not that Walt thought anything was going to attack them. Maybe a polar bear.
"Hasser." Brad's shadow fell across where Walt was sitting. "Did you steal both blankets?"
"No." It's not a lie. One of the blankets was his to begin with, so technically he only stole one. And he really needed one to sit on. Cold sand was bad enough, but who knew what kind of small creatures would be hiding it, just waiting to latch on to Walt's heat signature and crawl up his pant leg or something for warmth.
Brad sighed and dropped down next to Walt, practically in his lap. "Scoot over and share."
Walt shifted and freed up a corner of the blanket for Brad. To carry the nickname Iceman, Brad was putting out an impressive amount of body heat. Walt approved and moved closer. It was going to be a long night.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-17 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 01:40 am (UTC)Zia or Zoe or some other name that's short and easy (like the girl herself) isn't doing a damned thing for him.
Mickey pushes her away and throws her shirt at her. "Get the fuck out." She looks startled, and like she's about to argue. "Now, bitch!"
She flips him off and storms out of the room without putting her top back on, muttering about Milkovichs being assholes. Mickey stares at the ceiling for a long moment after the door slams, then picks up one of his shoes and hurls it at the wall. "FUCK!"
He's got a hand on his dick, trying to get himself off to relieve at least some of whatever-the-fuck this is that's tearing him apart, when someone knocks on the door.
"Mickey? You okay?"
Ian fucking Gallagher. Ian, who has been avoiding Mickey for weeks, who was never afraid to be rough, who always made sure Mickey got off even though Mickey wasn't always that considerate. Shit.
Mickey doesn't bother with clothes as he stumbles to the door. He opens it, grabs Ian by the shirt to haul him inside, and shoves him against the wall. Yeah, this is better, kissing Ian, pressing against him. The hum under his skin becomes less intense, more pleasant, and Mickey wants more, needs more. He starts tugging at Ian's shirt with one hand and trying to undo his jeans with the other. Oh, god, bare skin.
"Wait, wait." Ian wriggles out of Mickey's hold and puts a deliberate amount of space between them, hands held out in front of him and freaked out expression. "Your sister..."
"Fuck my sister," Mickey says, taking a step towards Ian. "No, actually, don't, that's gross. Fuck me."
One of Ian's hands finds Mickey's side, but it's only to keep the distance between them, and when Ian lays his palm against Mickey's forehead and slides it down his cheek, Mickey has a hard time not turning into the touch. Jeez, he's ready to nuzzle Ian's hand like he's a puppy or something, this shit is fucked up.
"Jesus, Mickey, you're burning up! What the fuck did you take?"
"Some uppers I got off Kenny." Mickey shrugs, trying again for Ian's shirt. There needs to be less talking and more naked. A lot more naked. "No big deal." Lies. It is a big deal, because Mickey is dying, and if Ian doesn't cooperate, he's not sure what he'll do.
"You idiot." He's making eyes at Mickey, the soft, too-much-emotion look Mickey tries to avoid. "You need a doctor."
"No. No, I just need to get off." He pulls Ian in the direction of the bed. "C'mon, Gallagher, get me off." Ian hesitates, starts to resist. "Please?" Mickey knows he's whining, that he's just given himself an unfair advantage by asking, and it's as close as he'll ever get to begging, but damn. He needs this, and if he lives through the night, he'll kick Ian's ass if he ever tells anyone anyway.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-17 12:54 am (UTC)Because now I'm imagining Ray coming home one Sunday afternoon with a toddler, and Brad telling him that children are not the kind of thing that you can safely acquire at the yard sales that so delight his whiskey tango heart with their opportunity to "bargain" with other trailer park rejects for the detritus of other people's lives.
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Date: 2012-09-23 06:21 am (UTC)Brad is more than ready for Ray to be home, but there is a downside. Ray has yet to come back from a visit home without some piece of tasteless junk (It's classic, Brad! And you know you love my sense of taste!), and after the chartreuse throw pillows and the bedazzled lamp Ray had brought last time, Brad's a little worried about what he's going to find when he gets home.
When Brad gets in, the first thing he notices is that Ray's bags are still packed and sitting by the door, which is so out of character he's not sure what to make of it. He can hear someone moving around in the kitchen - and Ray always unpacks and starts a load of laundry before he hits the kitchen. He's got a routine.
Brad doesn't even make it to the kitchen before he realizes what's thrown a kink into Ray's routine.
"Tell me you didn't get that at a yardsale."
Ray looks up from his perusal of the fridge, and Brad recognizes that expression. Ray's spoiling for a fight. (Brad can see the worry and the tired behind it, though, and that's a little more important, especially since those are emotions Ray rarely let's slip through.)
"Actually, yeah, I kinda did."
"Ray." Brad's not even sure where to start this argument, because children are not the kind of thing that can be safely acquired at the trailer park yard sales that so delight Ray's whiskey tango heart. And that is definitely a small child clinging to Ray like a monkey. Brad sighs. "Where are its parents?"
"Mom's on her way to prison, dad's an unknown." Ray juggles the kid and as he fills a sippy cup with juice. "His mom is one of my second cousins. Ma's been keeping him, but she's too old to raise another kid." When Brad doesn't say anything, Ray continues, "If this is a game changer, I understand. Poke and his old lady said we can crash with them until I find an apartment."
Brad realizes that's what the bags by the door are, and yes, Ray should most definitely have discussed this with him before bring the kid to their home, but, "Jesus, Ray, I'm not going to kick you out." He reaches for the kid, a bit surprised when the little guy doesn't hesitate to come to him. "We'll figure it out. What's his name?"
"Cullen." Ray hands the cup to the kid and tries to take him back, but Brad shifts away.
"Colin?"
"No, Cullen. Like fucking Twilight."
Brad rolls his eyes. "Go unpack your shit and I'll order pizza. Then we'll figure out what we're going to do next." One thing about life with Ray - it's never boring.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-23 05:55 pm (UTC)Cullen? That's awful...but I bet there are going to be a lot of Bellas and Cullens and Swans in the next few years.
ETA: poor Ray, being so defensive and ready to go and \o/ for Brad being open minded -- which Ray should've known about his Bradley, but suddenly becoming a parent can probably freak anyone out, yes?
no subject
Date: 2012-09-23 09:39 pm (UTC)And yes, exactly, about Ray. :)