drabbles! (mostly bandom)
May. 3rd, 2009 02:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asimplechordA few days back, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
redorchids picked these icons when I volunteered for her meme. So. Six icons, six drabbles. Sorry it took me so long.
HG/SS, Potterverse, 265 words
Eileen left her mother's bedroom for last, building up her courage to brave that sanctum. Hermione Granger-Snape's death hadn't been sudden or unexpected, had in fact been a blessed relief and release - even Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron, in their grief, believed this. Hermione had been neither happy nor healthy in the years since her husband's death.
Given the precious few memories she had of her father (distant, gruff, strict, laconic), Eileen had not understood her mother's unwavering faith and devotion. Nothing she'd heard from her extended family (Weasleys and Potters all) or learned from history books explained it. Hermione Granger had been intelligent, talented, a war hero.
Severus Snape might have been a war hero, as well, but that was the only positive thing wizarding society had to say about him.
Eileen had no idea what had drawn her mother to her father, but that bond had withstood disapproval, disdain, and death.
It didn't matter now, though.
She dealt with the closet and dresser first. When she finally cleared off the bedside table, Eileen found worn and battered copies of several books, Muggle novels by the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen. When she picked up Pride and Prejudice, it opened, its spine cracked with obvious use, to Mr. Darcy's letter, and a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Eileen bent to pick it up, and, curious, unfolded it.
Jepha/Bob, bandom, 247 words
(This could be considered a prequel to Tempered.)
Jepha almost doesn't recognize them: they're all in suits and ties, their hair brushed and styled. He'd laugh, but the contrast between Bert and Gerard is so extreme as to be unbelievable.
He supposes he should have expected it. It's the VMAs, after all - of course My Chem would be here. If he'd thought about it at all, he would've figured that the venue's pretty big, and they'd manage to avoid each other.
Of fucking course The Used and My Chemical Romance ended up on the red carpet at the same fucking time.
He hopes that he's the only one who realizes, but it's too late. Bert's already seen Gerard. Luckily, Frank and Ray are alert, and they hustle Gerard away before Quinn can make a scene. Mikey nods at them, and Branden steers Quinn and Bert away, leaving Jepha standing there in front of Bob.
He wants to sneer, to mock Bob for putting away his t-shirts and jeans for the matching suits Gerard picked out (because there's no way the other guys in the band picked that shit on their own). But Bob cocks his head and lets his sunglasses slide down his nose a tiny bit and looks at Jepha, practically daring him to comment, and Jepha. Jepha is not intimidated. He's not.
But somehow he's closing his mouth and looking away, the words withering on his tongue. Bob waits a heartbeat, then two, before nudging his shades back up and turning away.
Spencer/Brendon, bandom, 127 words
Brendon loves all of Spencer's smiles. He was intimidated by him back in the day, when he'd stumbled along with Brent to his very first practice-that-was-actually-an-audition, because Spencer had been tall and quiet and judging, with an impressive scowl.
Then he'd played and Ryan had nodded, and Spencer let a tiny smile loose, and that had been it.
Now Brendon knows each expression: the grumpy frown, the out-and-out scowl, the sarcastic grin he wears for interviews, the bitchface that comes out when someone is particularly stupid, the smirk that accompanies Spencer's weed-fueled giggles, the smile of genuine, utter happiness he gives most often to his family.
But his favorite? It's the shallow curve of lips and pinkened cheeks that Spencer's wearing right now, directed solely at Brendon.
Patrick/Brendon, bandom, 150 words
(This could be seen as belonging to this 'verse if you squint.)
Patrick stops dead, and Brendon, whose eyes and hands are on Patrick's ass and belt rather than where they're going, stumbles into him with a loud, "Ooomph."
"Shhh!" Patrick's warning is all the more emphatic for its quiet.
Pete and Ryan are passed out on the sofa, notebooks, scraps of paper, and laptops abandoned on the table in front of them.
Patrick extracts himself from Brendon and grabs a blanket from the hall closet, spreading it over the pair gently.
If it were anyone else, Brendon would be jealous of Patrick's solicitousness and affection. But he knows Pete, knows Ryan, knows Patrick, knows how the four of them work as two interlocking pairs, as couples and as lyricists and musicians.
So he waits patiently until Patrick's satisfied Pete and Ryan will be comfortable. Then he loops his fingers in Patrick's belt loops and tugs him toward the stairs.
"Bed. Now."
Gabe and Pete, bandom, 178 words
(Trufax: Gabe Saporta asked for one of Cobra Starship's red Thriller-style hoodies without the logo on the back, because, as he said at the NOLA show, only tools wear their own band's merch.)
Gabe doesn't think twice when he can't find his hoodie before their set in Atlanta. He's been living on two buses for the last week, and if it's not on the Cobra Starship bus, it's probably hiding somewhere on Fall Out Boy's.
He grabs his flannel and trucker hat, and figures that'll do for the night.
It doesn't even register when he sees Pete wearing one of the red hoodies, the sleeves off. Pete's the head of the label and the headlining band. If he wants merch from one of his bands, he can get a fucking hoodie.
It's not until he's out there on stage with them for What A Catch, Donnie that he sees that Pete's hoodie doesn't have the Cobra Starship logo on the back.
Huh.
After the song finishes, Pete leans back into Gabe and puts his fangs up, telling the crowd how much Midtown meant to Fall Out Boy back in the day, Gabe brushes his fingers across the soft cotton at the small of Pete's back, and smiles wide for the cameras.
Ryan gen, bandom, 160 words
Ryan swears that he paid all the bills, so he's totally pissed when he comes home after tour and his water and electricity are shut off.
Then he picks up all the mail that's on hold at the post office and finds the returned envelope without stamps, marked "insufficient postage, return to sender" in the pile of bills and junk mail waiting for him.
He tries to set up automatic bill-pay. He really does. And he's not technologically challenged. He's not, okay? He had a livejournal before anyone else he knew; he's never had a problem with his Sidekick or his laptop, and his Tweets send just fine.
He has no idea why he keeps getting the "that username and password combination is invalid" message, but ten times in five minutes is enough to have him slamming the laptop closed.
Fuck it. If his condo is dark and quiet, he can always go over to Brendon's.
So. You can volunteer for this yourself and I'll pick 6 of your icons, or you can tell me six additional icons that should be drabble fodder for me.
redorchids picked these icons when I volunteered for her meme. So. Six icons, six drabbles. Sorry it took me so long.HG/SS, Potterverse, 265 words
Eileen left her mother's bedroom for last, building up her courage to brave that sanctum. Hermione Granger-Snape's death hadn't been sudden or unexpected, had in fact been a blessed relief and release - even Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron, in their grief, believed this. Hermione had been neither happy nor healthy in the years since her husband's death.
Given the precious few memories she had of her father (distant, gruff, strict, laconic), Eileen had not understood her mother's unwavering faith and devotion. Nothing she'd heard from her extended family (Weasleys and Potters all) or learned from history books explained it. Hermione Granger had been intelligent, talented, a war hero.
Severus Snape might have been a war hero, as well, but that was the only positive thing wizarding society had to say about him.
Eileen had no idea what had drawn her mother to her father, but that bond had withstood disapproval, disdain, and death.
It didn't matter now, though.
She dealt with the closet and dresser first. When she finally cleared off the bedside table, Eileen found worn and battered copies of several books, Muggle novels by the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen. When she picked up Pride and Prejudice, it opened, its spine cracked with obvious use, to Mr. Darcy's letter, and a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Eileen bent to pick it up, and, curious, unfolded it.
Dear Miss Granger,
Please rest assured that this letter does not contain any of the mushiness which you found so disgusting last night. I only wish to acquit myself of your accusations. First of all, Mr. Malfoy....
Jepha/Bob, bandom, 247 words
(This could be considered a prequel to Tempered.)
Jepha almost doesn't recognize them: they're all in suits and ties, their hair brushed and styled. He'd laugh, but the contrast between Bert and Gerard is so extreme as to be unbelievable.
He supposes he should have expected it. It's the VMAs, after all - of course My Chem would be here. If he'd thought about it at all, he would've figured that the venue's pretty big, and they'd manage to avoid each other.
Of fucking course The Used and My Chemical Romance ended up on the red carpet at the same fucking time.
He hopes that he's the only one who realizes, but it's too late. Bert's already seen Gerard. Luckily, Frank and Ray are alert, and they hustle Gerard away before Quinn can make a scene. Mikey nods at them, and Branden steers Quinn and Bert away, leaving Jepha standing there in front of Bob.
He wants to sneer, to mock Bob for putting away his t-shirts and jeans for the matching suits Gerard picked out (because there's no way the other guys in the band picked that shit on their own). But Bob cocks his head and lets his sunglasses slide down his nose a tiny bit and looks at Jepha, practically daring him to comment, and Jepha. Jepha is not intimidated. He's not.
But somehow he's closing his mouth and looking away, the words withering on his tongue. Bob waits a heartbeat, then two, before nudging his shades back up and turning away.
Spencer/Brendon, bandom, 127 words
Brendon loves all of Spencer's smiles. He was intimidated by him back in the day, when he'd stumbled along with Brent to his very first practice-that-was-actually-an-audition, because Spencer had been tall and quiet and judging, with an impressive scowl.
Then he'd played and Ryan had nodded, and Spencer let a tiny smile loose, and that had been it.
Now Brendon knows each expression: the grumpy frown, the out-and-out scowl, the sarcastic grin he wears for interviews, the bitchface that comes out when someone is particularly stupid, the smirk that accompanies Spencer's weed-fueled giggles, the smile of genuine, utter happiness he gives most often to his family.
But his favorite? It's the shallow curve of lips and pinkened cheeks that Spencer's wearing right now, directed solely at Brendon.
Patrick/Brendon, bandom, 150 words
(This could be seen as belonging to this 'verse if you squint.)
Patrick stops dead, and Brendon, whose eyes and hands are on Patrick's ass and belt rather than where they're going, stumbles into him with a loud, "Ooomph."
"Shhh!" Patrick's warning is all the more emphatic for its quiet.
Pete and Ryan are passed out on the sofa, notebooks, scraps of paper, and laptops abandoned on the table in front of them.
Patrick extracts himself from Brendon and grabs a blanket from the hall closet, spreading it over the pair gently.
If it were anyone else, Brendon would be jealous of Patrick's solicitousness and affection. But he knows Pete, knows Ryan, knows Patrick, knows how the four of them work as two interlocking pairs, as couples and as lyricists and musicians.
So he waits patiently until Patrick's satisfied Pete and Ryan will be comfortable. Then he loops his fingers in Patrick's belt loops and tugs him toward the stairs.
"Bed. Now."
Gabe and Pete, bandom, 178 words
(Trufax: Gabe Saporta asked for one of Cobra Starship's red Thriller-style hoodies without the logo on the back, because, as he said at the NOLA show, only tools wear their own band's merch.)
Gabe doesn't think twice when he can't find his hoodie before their set in Atlanta. He's been living on two buses for the last week, and if it's not on the Cobra Starship bus, it's probably hiding somewhere on Fall Out Boy's.
He grabs his flannel and trucker hat, and figures that'll do for the night.
It doesn't even register when he sees Pete wearing one of the red hoodies, the sleeves off. Pete's the head of the label and the headlining band. If he wants merch from one of his bands, he can get a fucking hoodie.
It's not until he's out there on stage with them for What A Catch, Donnie that he sees that Pete's hoodie doesn't have the Cobra Starship logo on the back.
Huh.
After the song finishes, Pete leans back into Gabe and puts his fangs up, telling the crowd how much Midtown meant to Fall Out Boy back in the day, Gabe brushes his fingers across the soft cotton at the small of Pete's back, and smiles wide for the cameras.
Ryan gen, bandom, 160 words
Ryan swears that he paid all the bills, so he's totally pissed when he comes home after tour and his water and electricity are shut off.
Then he picks up all the mail that's on hold at the post office and finds the returned envelope without stamps, marked "insufficient postage, return to sender" in the pile of bills and junk mail waiting for him.
He tries to set up automatic bill-pay. He really does. And he's not technologically challenged. He's not, okay? He had a livejournal before anyone else he knew; he's never had a problem with his Sidekick or his laptop, and his Tweets send just fine.
He has no idea why he keeps getting the "that username and password combination is invalid" message, but ten times in five minutes is enough to have him slamming the laptop closed.
Fuck it. If his condo is dark and quiet, he can always go over to Brendon's.
So. You can volunteer for this yourself and I'll pick 6 of your icons, or you can tell me six additional icons that should be drabble fodder for me.
