asimplechord | i want it with whipped cream on it

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i want it with whipped cream on it

a) I... am not a nice person. I have just spent 30 minutes amusing myself with the artist summaries for Bandom Big Bang, LOLing at how there's going to be some amazingly good fic and some amazingly bad bad!fic. When did I become such a snob?

b) I am not a fan of the weird epaulette things with a tie, but I will probably obtain a copy of the GQ in which photos from this shoot are published. Unf.

c) LUDO! I am ridic excited that Stamps & Tommy and the High Pilots (and Without a Face, for the TX shows) are on that tour!

d) D: Empires did not make the final round of the Rolling Stone cover contest. Neither did Fictionist, the other band I liked. Oh well, it still got them tons of exposure, right?

e) Killjoys on Friday. :D :D :D

In the meantime... prompt me? I need to kickstart creativity, else I'll wallow in work misery even when I'm not at work. So, yeah. Fandom, pairing, phrase or photo, and I'll write a sentence, a drabble, or something. American Idiot, GK, bandom, SPN, HP, CM or House. (Or Andrew/Jesse.)

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How about a crossover? Spencer with whomever else you choose from one of your other fandoms. Can be slashy or not. :D?

LUUUUDO. Too bad it's on a Monday. The Monday after D Criss in San Antonio. I don't think I'll be able to follow them around the state. :(

LOLOL, I just had a vision of Spencer and Brendon running into Andrew and Jesse being ridiculous hipster boyfriends in the Village or something. I might need a minute to recover. And this was AFTER seeing MGG in tonight's episode of CM, and thinking he looks better and better every time I see that haircut.

I maaaaybe can do the Dallas show b/c it's on a Sunday, and the Monday show here, but I don't know about following them to Emo's on Tuesday. Gas is just too expensive right now to be doing all that driving!

But OK. Lemme think on the Spencer in hipster-land for a minute...

Spencer loves New York City. He loves the way each neighborhood has its own flavor, how everybody does their own thing and it's a matter of pride not to notice people who might be famous. Somehow, LA missed the memo on that.

Brendon loves it, too, but at the moment it's because, "Seriously, Spencer, best vinyl selection anywhere, okay? There are a dozen record shops in the East Village alone, and we've only hit two of them so far."

He's not paying much mind to where he's going, walking and talking at the same time, talking with hands, and the bag with his deluxe-cover version of Queen Rocks not earning the respect it merits given the search Brendon's made for it, and Spencer can see what's going to happen, knows there's no way to stop it.

One emphatic wave too many, whoops! The Stumptown to-go cup of the guy passing them flies from his hand, splashing what appears to be plain coffee all over his sweatshirt.

"Oh, fuck." Yeah, Brendon sometimes lacks in the social graces.

"Oh god, I am so sorry--"

The mess is clearly, absolutely Brendon's fault, but the guy stutters and apologizes to Brendon.

"No, really, he's sorry. Let us... fuck, I don't know, it's not like I have a handkerchief or anything..."

The guy holds his sweatshirt away from his body, and shrugs sheepishly. "Hang on." He lets the strap of his backpack fall, pulls a couple of crumpled napkins from the front pocket. Brendon plucks one from his hand - "Dude, my bad, I should help clean it." - and starts blotting the spreading stain.

He seems vaguely familiar, but Spencer's not sure if it's because he's seen the guy around or he's, you know, someone he should recognize. He doesn't seem like an industry guy. He's wearing a ball cap, and he tugs it lower on his head, so that unruly brown-red curls poke out.

He's being pretty cool, joking with Brendon that he'd likely have spilled it on himself anyway because he's just that awkward and accident prone, and Spencer figures they're about to part ways - they're supposed to meet Ian and Dallon at St. Marks - when the guy smiles. Dimples, he has ridiculously deep dimples, and those lips. Spencer forces himself to look away. A glance at Brendon, and Spencer can see he's not the only one intrigued.

"So, are you--"

"Let me make up for that mess--"

"We didn't introduce our--"

They're all talking over each other, apologizing, when British voice interrupts, "Haven't Emma and I warned you about talking to strangers, Jesse?"

I... This is... OH MY GOD WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU ~~TWO~~ TO WRITE MORE??

ETA: SEE? THIS IS SO AWESOME, IT'S MADE ME DUMB.

Edited 2011-05-20 01:24 (UTC)

:D I'm afraid to promise anything b/c I've been in such a fic drought, but I could see this continuing. (Andrew totally recognizes them, FYI. It's just Jesse whose pop culture references are sparse.)

If there is anything I can do to encourage your muse, let me know!

So very UNF!

Um, after this week's episode I kinda want Thirteen/Chase. If you are so inclined...

Oh and, Hi! *waves*

Hi! I fail at LJ - I saw the last freakfrak post you made, but didn't comment. :/

*

Even though he knows she's right, that bringing Darrien to the hospital was their only option, that she would never have given in without a fight, Chase flinches every time Thirteen tucks her hair behind her ear. It bares the bruise on her neck, and he remembers the sickening feeling of watching her stumble backwards, of recognizing the capability for violence inside himself.

Weeks later, after many coffees, hours of trading files and stories, listening to her talk, when she invites him in and means it, he kisses the long-faded bruise and wonders if they would ever have gotten here without it.

No worries, babe. Since I hooked up the family with an automatic email notice (i <3 mailchimp!) when there's a new post, they don't comment there either. And I could never hold LJ fail against anyone as I am in the pro leagues of LJ Fail.

Very nice, indeed. A little dark and difficult, just like they are. Thank you!

If you've got any more of that GK college AU in you. . . THAT PLEASE. Nate/Brad or Brad/Walt. Prompts? Um. . . hot, confusion, street music, taking notes, understand

Did I ever explain that Brad's a student at JHU, and Nate's taking a summer class there? Just, you know, for context.

During office hours at the help desk, Brad mostly wears jeans and ratty t-shirts advertising everything from cheap beer and 90s hair-bands to the Komen Breast Cancer 5K run, although on one memorable occasion he appeared wearing a pale blue button-down with narrow navy stripes and a pair of Dockers.

(That ensemble, paired with a set of horn-rimmed glasses, made Nate re-evaluate his bi-curious status to most definitely. He'd had more than one teacher/school boy fantasy relating to Brad in his "grown-up" clothes. It might be a cliche, but it's a cliche for a *reason*.)

Still. When he brings his second exam to the help desk to go over the mistakes that'd earned him an 84 instead of 100, he's not expecting to find Brad in a black v-neck t-shirt, with glittering letters announcing PFLAG: like the PTA, but sparklier.

"Um... really?"

"It was a gift from my roommate. And I didn't have time to do laundry last night, so."

"So. Your roommate's gay?"

Brad watches Nate steadily for a moment, then, "No, he's not. He's being supportive."

"--oh."

There's an awkward moment where Nate doesn't know what to say. He'd *like* to celebrate with a fist-pump, because this means he can stop feeling guilty about perving on the supposedly-straight dude who's helping him with Organic, but that's really not appropriate. He's still trying to figure out how to work asking Brad to meet him for pizza and beer later when he realizes his silence has gone on too long.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Brad looks impassive, but Nate can practically feel chill building.

"What? No! I just..." Okay, honesty's the best policy, right? "It doesn't matter when it comes to tutoring. But it makes it way easier if you want to go out tonight after you get done here."

I continue to love this so so much and SOMEBODY PLEASE make art of Brad in that t-shirt FOR I WILL DIE. <333333

and also the ensemble with the horn-rimmed glasses kthanxbye

Mostly Brad wears contacts, but some days he just can't be bothered with them. He has considered LASIK surgery; as a bio-mech engineering student with intentions of going to med school, he's researched all his options. His parents insurance would cover it, but they've been telling him since he was sixteen to wait until he's a bit older, done growing and maturing - like his eyeballs are still growing at this point - so at this point it's really just a waiting game.

Edited 2011-05-20 01:43 (UTC)

:D God, I love a good backstory.

♥

How did I not know that you have a Brad/Nate college AU? Set at JHU no less :)

Yeah. Brad plays LaX at JHU. Nate's mom works in the admissions office, and he's taking Organic over the summer. He really really hates chemistry, and he has no idea how he can continue as a pre-med student and then a med school if it makes him this miserable. 90% of it is still in my head, or was in random email and text bits to Tabby, which are lost since I got a new phone. My problem is two-fold: 1. I'm not motivated to write lately. 2. Once I have an outline (and I do) and I know how it ends, I'm not in as much of a rush to get words out of my head. If it ever DOES, I'll have to talk to you about JHU and Balmer and Roland Park (seriously, I even spent time wondering about minutiae, like which private school Nate would've graduated from) to get details right.

But there's a snippet where they meet here (http://asimplechord.livejournal.com/499514.html). And after Nate goes back to Dartmouth for sophomore year here (http://pjvilar.livejournal.com/60696.html?thread=1275160#t1275160).

And I have this with a note that it was for

lickingbeads' prompt jealousy, but I'm pretty sure her post is locked.

*

Brad is sure that it's nothing. Nate sent him a cell-phone photo of the mess of work on his desk when he explained why he wouldn't be able to make it back to Baltimore for autumn break. But he would really like to know why there was a mug with lipstick on its rim holding a pile of messily-stacked papers in place on the teetering, uneven stack of notebooks in front of Nate's monitor.

In his defense, he knows his knee-jerk response is wrong, and he didn't even expect it, so instead of immediately assuming the worse and arguing/accusing Nate of anything he'd regret later, he tugs on a pair of running shoes and goes out for a run. A really long run.

Nate, who had expected a text or a call or *something* in response, sits at his desk, gmail and skype open, for an hour, before he re-reads his email and checks that he sent the picture, and, okay, he's aware of Brad's history (although really accidentally; getting him to talk about some things is like pulling teeth - impacted wisdom teeth, even) so that was an unfortunate item to have in framed in the photo. But he's not a cheater, dammit, and that lipgloss is Patrick's, whose major in English literature and drama requires participation in theater department activities, up to and including costume and makeup.

When Brad gets back, there's a text waiting on his phone.

ur an ass if u think what i think ur thinking

I know. Sorry. Went for a run to clear my head.

He gulps an entire liter of water, deliberately not looking at his phone while he waits.

clear now?

Y. Can we talk about this?

He's not counting time while he waits. Except that he knows it takes 74 seconds for Nate's reply to arrive.

gimme 1 min to reboot my mac

Brad doesn't care that he's sweaty and gross, that his hamstrings will tighten if he doesn't stretch them after running for so long in cold weather. He settles in front of his laptop, opens gchat, and waits for Nate to ping him.

Brad forgets, sometimes, that Walt grew up in rural Virginia. The first time they head up to the Third Street Promenade on a Saturday night is a vivid reminder about the social differences between the East and Left Coasts. Walt stops dead to listen to the trio playing Sikuri music, and he can't be moved, even when Brad loops his fingers in his belt loops and tugs lightly. It takes hours for them to travel three blocks, and when they finally manage it, Walt decrees that every weekend should be spent in Santa Monica.

I love this. I love them. I love the way you write this pairing in this verse. Perfect.

Prompt: (from today's post at I Wrote This For You) You are a secret I can never give up.

I'd love some H/D, if you're feeling it, or anything GK-ish. :)

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i want it with whipped cream on it

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college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Re: college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Re: college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Re: college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Re: college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Re: college AU snippet from my WIP files, Brad/Nate

Brad/Walt, street music

Re: Brad/Walt, street music

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