Snippet dump!
31 March 2011 00:12![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayqueen517I've got some of these little bits hanging out on my harddrive that I KNOW aren't going to go any further but that I still quite like.
So here they are. If one of them sparks something for you, feel free to take it and run, so long as you link me back to the finished product. ;-)
Tom Conrad GEN, meant to be this year's BBB before my brain got hijacked properly. (718 words)
:::FYI::: The fellow at the end is meant to be Sean Van Vleet, based on some things Tom's said. (Namely that he'd always known Sean to be this super positive guy and when he was back in Chicago and such, that Sean mentioned getting together and working together, etc.)
"You need to get out of the apartment at some point," Jon says and Tom sighs into the phone. He sounds careful, like he's trying to not set Tom off. Tom pushes his fingers into his thigh, watching the skin dimple and turn white before he pulls his fingers up. The skin flushes, the slight outline of his thumb fading as the blood rushes back. He feels like that. Like blood rushing back to the heart of Chicago or something.
Maybe he should get out of his apartment.
"Yeah. I guess," he says after a minute, hearing Jon sigh, relief evident through the phone. Tom feels drained and tired, like he could sleep for a week and then a little longer perhaps. He doesn't think about other conversations, he doesn't think about quitting (being fired, his brain pipes up), and when Jon mumbles something to someone in the background, Tom decides that maybe he should listen to his friend.
"You guess, huh?"
"I dunno, I hear being a hermit's in these days," Tom says, biting his lip as Jon laughs softly. It feels normal in a way nothing has felt normal. Jon talks to someone in the background again, voice rising and falling in a way that's oddly comfortable. Jon hasn't changed, Jon doesn't change and Tom takes whatever he can get from that.
"Just you and your camera, huh?" Jon says, and Tom can hear him shifting and Tom can see him so clearly. He's probably laying on a bed, stretched out on one side, phone precariously balanced on his face so he can hear Tom. Tom sighs after a minute, wondering what Nick's doing, wondering if Nick's gonna treat him like he's going to break too. He wonders who told Nick, if Bill called him and said something like, "Tommy's out," or if Mike sent Nick a text. He wonders if they told Nick like they couldn't tell him.
"Yeah."
"Dude, why don't you come out on tour with me and the guys? Take some pictures of the tour and shit," Jon says, and Tom looks at the wall before down to his leg. At his feet are a bag of dirty clothes, needing to be washed, spilling over his foot. He thinks about his camera, sitting on his nightstand, beside the lamp, before he sighs into the phone. It crackles and he can hear Jon breathing lightly.
"Yeah, okay," Tom says finally, tilting his head back and closing his eyes slowly. He says bye to Jon, listening to the laughter from the background on Jon's end, unable to do anything beyond closing his phone and letting it clatter to the floor. He stays like that for a few minutes, absorbing the silence of his apartment before he pushes himself off the couch.
Nick's place is full of people. And really, Tom shouldn't be surprised because it's Nick and it's Friday. Fridays are always some get together at his place, like the minute he clocks out, he's calling everyone in Chicago that he knows. Tom lets Nick clap him on the back and is only a little grateful for the few moments that Nick spends asking him about how things were. He's grateful for his friend's care, sure, but talking about leaving (fired, his brain reminds him eagerly) makes his stomach roll.
Eventually though, Tom settles himself against the back wall, close to the kitchen without being fully in it. To his left, a group of girls that Tom vaguely recognizes chatter merrily, laughing and tossing their hair over their shoulder. Tom watches them until one of the girls notices and the group walks off. He takes a long swallow of his beer, closing his eyes for a moment until the sounds become a buzz behind his lids.
"Hey!"
He opens his eyes, turning. The guy in front of him is familiar enough that Tom thinks he should really know his name, that he does know the guy's name but can't really remember it. Tom plasters a smile on his face, hoping it doesn't look too forced as the guy grins and claps a hand on his arm easily.
Tom wishes he hadn't left the apartment.
Nicole/Cassadee Heart On A Postcard out-take! Meant to go right before the epilogue but I decided against it. Still, I like this bit for whatever reason. (735 words)
:::FYI::: I'm not too familiar with Brian Dales or whatever his name is, only that he dated Chelsea and wrote a song about her. IDK, I didn't think it seemed too out of the realm of possibility that Chelsea and Nicole would text him to check up on Cass. (This was, to be fair, before Nicole and Singer were really active on Twitter.)
Warped starts with a blur of bangs, adrenaline kicking into her chest, the sound of kids screaming, the feeling of sweat sliding down her face. She spends her days trying not to melt off anything she touches and the nights trying to sleep.
"You look miserable, sweetheart," Brian says one night, sitting down on the speed-bump beside of her. The parking lot lights throw him into a weird shadow, haloing around his head even though it makes him look like he doesn't have a face.
"I'm fine. Miss my girlfriend, so I'm kinda lonely," she says, remembering vaguely that Chelsea dated Brian. She remembers meeting the first time she met Chelsea, the year before, a year ago, she thinks. In that time, Nicole's met her family, became friendly with Ashley and Cassadee's met Kenn. She knows him well enough to text and she doesn't know him well enough to ask him to drag Nicole out to a show. She fiddles with the edge of a cookie, taking a small bite, just for something to do.
"Nicole, right?"
"Mmhm. Your ex is Chelsea right?" says Cassadee.
"Just like the song, yep. We're still friends; her and Nic asked me to come check up on you," Brian says, stretching his legs out in front of him as Cassadee breaks half of the cookie off and hands it to him without replying.
"Awesome. You okay?"
"Yeah, like I said. Lonely," she says, finishing the cookie, ignoring the way he nods slowly. Cassadee pulls herself up and smiles down at Brian, feeling her hair sticking to her face. She hasn't showered in what feels like a week, but is only three days and she knows it shows.
"I get it. If you need to talk, you know where I'm at, cool?" Brian says, accepting the hand she offers and standing up.
"Thanks," she says, smiling more at him, walking toward the bus they're sharing (again) with The Cab and the techs. Cassadee goes to the bathroom, tugging on a tank top and shorts after attempting to wash off in the sink. There's a shower in the bathroom, but it's not like that means anything, especially considering that all the guys have stored half of their shit in there. When she gets back to her bunk, she digs her phone out, sending a text off to Nicole.
Chelsea's ex just checked up on me b/c she & u asked?
lol I don't have singer's number, so we figured asking brian was cool. are you okay?
yeah, just tired. so tired.
:-( miss u
u 2
Cassadee looks at the display for a moment, feeling sad and lonely as she curls around her pillow, wishing it was Nicole as she drifts off.
skype date?
y! lemme get chels and k2 out
Skype fills her screen and Cassadee laughs as she sees nothing but a blur across the computer screen. She hears Kevin's laugh and Nicole's giggle as she shoves at them.
"Cassadee, tell your girlfriend that we're allowed to talk to you too," Chelsea says, yelping with laughter as she shoves back at Nicole.
"I dunno, she looks pretty firm there," Cassadee says, giggling as Nicole smacks Kevin hard with a pillow. He makes a noise, laughing and Cassadee can't stop herself from laughing harder as Chelsea starts beating on him with a pillow too.
Nicole looks up, hair all over her face, beaming as Cassadee grins, wiggling her fingers as Nicole winds at her. Cassadee feels like a dorky kid who just went up to her date's parents and said something stupid. She watches Nicole shove her friends out of the room, laughter coming through the speakers of her laptop.
It's kind of hard to feel lonely on Warped, but Cassadee's always been an overachiever.
"Hey there, pretty lady," Nicole says, settling down on the bed, on her stomach. Cassadee feels her heart thump hard as she grins.
"Hey there. Guess what we're doing tomorrow?"
"Getting completely exhausted?"
"Other than that," Cassadee says, laughing, Nicole's giggles drifting through the speakers, filling up her bunk.
"Okay, so what are you doing tomorrow?" Nicole asks, grinning at her. Cassadee idly scratches her arm and grins.
"Nothing," Cassadee says, beaming as Nicole laughs happily. Warmth bubbles up in Cassadee's chest, happy and overflowing as she snuggles down in the hotel room bed to talk to Nicole.
Eventual Mike/Kevin fic wherein Mike is a speed skater and Kevin is a figure skater. IDEK, I never felt like I had the right tone on this? I still love it, but I dunno. (591)
Around the rink, people are staring as Kevin removes his blade guards and pushes out onto the ice. Beside of Brendon is Ryan watching Kevin intently from beneath his hat. Around his eyes are beautiful spikes of color, matching Brendon's and when Kevin unzips his hoodie, he hears a catcall.
Rolling his eyes, Kevin skates out to the center of the ice, taking wide circles before settling. He has a moment or two to see Brendon grinning and hanging all over Ryan. Brendon and Ryan were the first friends he made while doing figure skating in the competition circuit. Ryan had designed his outfits and Kevin ended up rooming with Brendon, helping with the choreography.
Near them but separate enough to not be distracted are Kevin's brothers, Nick and Joe, and Nick has his Game Face on, as Joe calls it. He thinks he looks stern, but Kevin desperately wants to tell him he just looks constipated.
The music starts and there's that rush in Kevin's gut, the one that swoops and leaps as he skates his routine, ignoring the crowd, ignoring the nerves. He pushes into the first jump, a triple and when he lands, Kevin can't stop the grin.
This is what skating is, he thinks, leading his way around the rink. The air whipping past him, the sound of music piping in over the loudspeakers, the sound of his blades on the ice. When he stops with his music, crouched carefully, head buried in the mass of black fabric on his shoulder, he allows himself a moment of doubt.
What if he didn't do well enough? What if he doesn't place? What if Nick sees something he needs to work on for two more hours? What if Kevin falls in the big performance?
But when the applause starts, he straightens up, beaming and fighting his blush when Brendon and Joe match each other for cheers.
He comes off the ice, grinning and waving to people, feeling Joe's arm sling around his shoulders as Kevin puts his blade guards on. Nick hands him a bottle of water and smiles at him, eyes amused.
"Getting a little loose in those triples, aren't you?"
"I was happy. Besides, I'm allowed to be a little loose when I'm skating to big band, I think."
"Keep it tight or they'll knock points off," Nick says, clapping him on the back as they get the preliminary scores, Kevin clutching the water bottle tight enough to feel the plastic bend under his fingers. The numbers ring out and they're good.
They're great.
Kevin figures he's allowed a moment of complete and utter shock, letting Joe and Nick tackle him as Brendon shouts in triumph. Second place.
He's second place in qualifying and all he can think is that there's some guy near Brendon grinning at him.
"Go get changed. I'll grab you something to eat," Joe says, ruffling his hair with as wide a grin as he can possibly manage. Laughing, Kevin lets Brendon smack a kiss against his cheek before he wanders off to the changing room.
He starts pulling his outfit off, allowing himself a moment of utter relief to be out of the tight lycra, cool air wafting over his shoulders and chest. Kevin sits on the bench and absorbs the moment of that he qualified in second place and that even though that guy from his other exhibitions was staring at him again, Brendon and Ryan will be skating.
Girl!Travie snippet that was meant to be Travie/William/Gabe. Never worked out because I never felt like I was writing Travie in the right way. (1139 words)
When Travie's fourteen, she loses her virginity to some dude named David. She doesn't like him, but she thinks he's nice enough. He thinks it's cool that she loves tattoos so much and he lets her talk about it.
He takes his time with her, which she appreciates, but when it's over, the only thing she thinks is Please, for the love of God, get off me.
Later, when she's older (only seventeen, but it feels so much older at the time) she sleeps with David again. She doesn't let him take his time with her, doesn't let him treat her like she's fragile and it's not good, it's not great.
But it's better.
Sometimes, when she feels particularly cynical, she thinks that it's the motto of her life. It's better. Not good or great, but better, and sometimes that's all you can ask for, right? She thinks this when she meets William, when she meets the rest of The Academy Is..., and when she ends up in bed with William, she's drunk.
She's quiet, feeling like her lips are too big for words and when she mumbles this to William, he laughs. He's got this soft laugh for when he's amused but barely, and when she opens her eyes, he's watching her. His eyes are hazy and he looks entirely too tired, his vest hanging down his arms like it was falling off but his elbows are it's coat-hooks.
Travie laughs at that, feeling like laughing takes forever, feeling the room spin as she closes her eyes again. William slides a hand over her arm and when she opens her eyes again, he's looking down at her with this smile.
She thinks, hey, a split-second before he's kissing her, slow, with less pressure than she wants. Travie pushes into him, kissing harder, biting at his lips sloppily. William huffs out another laugh before he presses down harder, kissing her in a way that's just right.
William pulls back to say something, to do something, Travie thinks, but at that moment, Travie has to vomit and she's pretty sure that kills a mood.
The first thing she realizes after the van turns over is that everything fucking hurts and that the yelling is her.
She's not surprised by either of those things, but she's surprised at how cold she is. It doesn't seem right, being cold in the middle of summer, and when she starts shivering, Travie groans. She's been in shock before, but nothing like this.
Nothing like the teeth rattling, bone deep cold and panic that's slowly welling up inside of her. She scrambles, scraping shards of glass along her back, her sides, her stomach, and she thinks that maybe her arms are taking a beating.
But she gets out, looking over the road and gaping at the scene, her stomach rolls and when she hears Seth yelling, she doesn't think. She grabs 'Sashi, heart thumping hard in relief, before they're lifting the van. The sun's beating down on them, miles of desert around as Seth frees his foot, Eric's hands trying to pull him out of the van, out of the window.
Steve's standing nearby, huddled into himself and shuddering as he stares at the wreckage.
Travie wants to go to him, wants to do something other than fucking wait for the police to get there, other than tell the police who Seth and Steve are. Why they were in the van, what happened, and when she looks over at Steve, his eyes are big and he's stopped shaking.
He looks like death, she thinks.
Travie holds onto 'Sashi for a moment, watching Seth being flown out and when it's over, the road is quiet before they're being lead to someone's car. There's a police officer sitting with Steve and her stomach twists, swooping hard so she goes to sit beside him. They don't talk and when she leans over and throws up so hard that she's shaking, Steve puts his hand on her back.
Her knee hurts, her throat is on fire, and they have a show that night.
Basically, she thinks, they're fucked.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket, feeling like a grade-A pussy for texting William and Gabe. She wants the reassurance that's not her band, she wants to curl up between her boys and text with her friends.
William promises to see her immediately at the venue, Gabe's texts frantic before he calls her and the rambling soothes her. There's an itch at the back of her throat for something, anything to numb the panic that's still coursing through her veins, making her hands and voice shake as she talks.
Gabe talks to her until they get to the hotel, all of them crawling into one room together, sitting in relative silence when someone knocks. It startles them into movement, like they're some stop-motion animated movie that Travie's always finding. She swallows hard as they start talking, start moving like normal and her stomach still twists.
She's in the bathroom, throwing up again from stress, nerves, a hangover, everything, when William comes in behind her. He doesn't touch her until she sits back against the wall. They sit, side-by-side, before William knocks his arm into hers. She hisses and looks at the scratches, almost confused by them and how they got there.
Travie lets William fuss over her, touching her skin and ignores the way he blinks at her, all owl-eyes and amusement when she pulls her shirt off in front of him.
He's careful with touching her, and she wants to yell at him to not treat her like a princess, but it just requires too much energy. She keeps hearing the van turning, the sound of a van and trailer on two wheels is something she never needs to hear again, but when she looks at William, he's concentrating on the scratches.
"Thanks," she says, after a moment of absorbing his warm hands on her back. He looks at her in the mirror and shrugs a shoulder.
"Not a problem," he says, carefully forcing out the letters as she leans into his hands, and she doesn't mention the careful way he speaks sometimes. She likes when he's comfortable and his stutter starts to slip, or when he's nervous. She likes it and likes the way his hands are resting on her shoulders.
"Yo, I've got a room. You might be invited if you've got booze," she says, knowing that it sounds forced, but it's better than looking at him and telling him that glass shattering actually sounds nothing like it does in movies. Instead, she lets him answer and takes him back to her room.
More girl!Travie! This time of the Girl!Travie/Gabe variety. I started writing bits of this back in May when I worked at the speedway? Mostly, I just wanted Travie/Gabe kidfic or whatever. It was always a lot of images rather than anything else? Specifically, Travie getting a lot of attention because she's pregnant and on Warped, but dealing with it how she can. Like I said, it was a lot more images than anything else. (658 words)
It's not that Travie is opposed to kids, it's just that when she thinks about them, it's always in regards to someone else. Like kids for Pete, for 'Sashi, and for Bill. It's just never something she's given much thought to. She's never thought heavily about skydiving, but she knows she's not doing it.
So when she starts throwing up in the tour-bus bathroom, shuddering and gripping the toilet she doesn't even begin to think of food poisoning. More-so because she's eaten nothing but what's on her bus, but whatever. Also because she's got a text from Pete from about two weeks ago stating u gnna start sn!! because Pete decided to keep track of her period.
Pete's weird.
And really, the only thing you say to your period being late and throwing up is, "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck."
Travie sits on the floor, pulling herself into a ball because if she doesn't, then she's just fucking hanging out into the hall of the bus. She flushes the toilet and leans her head back against the wall. Her heart's in her throat and she still feels queasy. All in all, Travie's in hell.
Pulling out her phone, she texts Pete with, When was ur party? 1mth or 2?. There's a moment where she hesitates and almost deletes it to keep him from seeing it. She wants him to see it and not see it but decides to fuck it. No sense in hesitating because then that's just more time she's gotta worry.
2
"Shit."
Travie takes the smallest amount of relief that she knows exactly who she hooked up with at Pete's party. And seeing as how Victoria can't knock her up, Travie needs to go see Gabe.
"Schleppy, what brings you to our humble abode on this fine day?"
Travie eyes the ramshackle tent and the old towels that Gabe's lounging on before shrugging and sitting down with him. He pulls himself up and stretches, hair sticking up and sweat lightly on his skin. She's always been attracted to him, but with her stomach roiling from nerves and nausea she can't focus on that to calm her down.
"Yo, why so serious? 'Sashi take the last of your goodies?"
"I'm pregnant, you dick."
It spills out before she can stop it, before she can even think of a better way to phrase it to soften the blow. To his credit, Gabe blinks and goes still, not getting angry, not reacting beyond more blinking.
"Uh. You know for sure yet?"
And that; that is why Gabe is one of Travie's favorite people.
"No. But Pete's party was, like, two months ago. And I think I missed a period between then and now," Travie says, making the face reserved for most of the guys when she mentions her period. Gabe just nods, and Travie's never been more grateful that Gabe's not bothered by it, because at least she can tell him what she knows.
"Think?" Gabe asks, shifting closer to hook his arm around her lightly. He's not freaking out, which Travie knows isn't exactly Gabe's M.O. for stressful situations. But he's also not talking which makes her worry.
"Missed this last one for sure. But I sorta had one a few weeks after the party. Spotting and. Yeah," Travie says, cringing. She doesn't mind, really, talking about it with Gabe. But it's not something she'd actually even talk about with Victoria most of the time.
"So what now?" Gabe asks, watching her. Travie appreciates Gabe not mentioning that this isn't something you think about while on tour. That you have no clue on how to tell your band that on top of being on Warped Tour, your singer's knocked up.
"I have no fucking clue. Take a test, then make an appointment?"
"Cool. Hey, can we tell everything that Vicky-T's the baby daddy?"
Annnnddd one last one.
Girl!Jon/Girl!Tom fic! I had this idea to write spanking fic and I never did? However, what I ended up liking most about this bit was the actual interactions, so I dunno. If you wanna write me some girl!Jon/girl!Tom spanking fic I WILL NOT SAY NO. (886 words)
"And then you pulled the fire alarm?"
"It made a lot more sense at the time," Tom says, shrugging as Jon bursts out laughing, clinging to the steering wheel as a car whipped around them at the stop sign. Tom watches her laughing, trying not to smile herself. She knows it's not the best thing to have to call your best friend in the middle of the night while hanging out in the bathroom of the college.
That's why Jon's her friend, though.
"Tomlin, Tomlin, Tomlin. What are we gonna do with you?" Jon says finally, grinning widely still, hitting the gas and making the turn to take them to Jon's place. Tom laughs softly, shrugging and pushing her hair back away from her face; Jon's hair is short, she had it cut recently, and Tom thinks that it looks soft, especially at the nape of her neck.
"I dunno, Jonquil, what are we gonna do with me?" Tom says, grinning as Jon snorts at her name, but she pulls into her parking spot easily. Tom feels like her and Jon are flirting again, which isn't surprising. Tom remembers them talking about the way it's easy to flirt with each other and she remembers the way Jon had smiled (she also remembers the way that Jon had kissed her, still laughing and pliant underneath Tom).
"I was thinking Chinese and bad sci-fi."
"My kind of date," Tom says, climbing out of the car and letting Jon shove at her. Tom grins at her, liking the warmth of her bare arm that slings around Tom's waist. Her arm touches the gap of skin between Tom's shirt and jeans, and something like happiness sings through her at the touch.
Later, Tom finds herself looking over Jon in the glow of a hastily decided on horror movie (zombies, which Jon is always fascinated by), and smiling to herself. Tom picks at her rice as Jon notices her watching finally, turning to look at her and Jon's smile is simple and soft.
"Jonnie Walker, were you flirting in the car?" Tom asks, putting the carton down on the table as Jon laughs, stretching and linking her fingers together over her head. Jon knows that Tom likes the way it pulls her shirt over her stomach and the way her muscles bunch, and Tom grins slowly.
"And what if I was, Tommy Conrad?" she says, shifting on the couch to sit on her heels. Her sweatpants stretch around her thighs and Tom glances at the drawstrings (and Jon's fingers tangled in the loops) before looking up at her. Tom's jeans are worn and make a muted noise as she shifts onto her knees, leaning closer to Jon.
"I think you should tell me what you had in mind," Tom says, watching Jon smile in the changing light from the TV as Jon kisses her softly. Tom loves kissing Jon, loves the way she tastes and the way that she always takes a deep breath before pressing their lips together, exhaling slowly as Tom takes her time. She likes the way Jon's body relaxes and how she leans forward, pressing close to Tom.
Jon pulls back, licking her lips and heat spreads through Tom's fingertips and chest as she leans forward, kissing the shell of Tom's ear lightly. When she speaks, Tom has to concentrate on what she's saying, shivering hard at Jon's lips and her voice, soft and deep.
"I was thinking I'd spank you and show you just how bad you've been."
Tom feels herself make a noise she doesn't recognize, fingers tightening on Jon's waist and Jon laughs huskily in her ear. Jon's arms wind around Tom and when she pulls back, Tom can see the hint of a sparkle in her eyes in the daylight scene on TV.
"I. Jon?"
"Come on," she says, kissing Tom fiercely and quickly before standing off of the couch and leading Tom into the bedroom. The TV plays behind them and Tom goes with Jon because she always has; it makes sense to go with her than to leave, Tom thinks, watching Jon flop down on the bed.
"You sure?" Tom says finally, pushing her hair back from her face nervously. It's never anything she analyzes, but sometimes she wonders when Jon is going to say no more, when Jon is going to decide they should stop. She always wonders if there's going to be a moment when they don't do this anymore. Jon looks up at her and smiles wryly, used to Tom's tics, and when Jon sits up on the bed and pulls her shirt off, she nods.
"Get naked, you idiot. Of course I'm sure," Jon says, unhooking her bra and Tom can feel her skin itching with anticipation, stripping quickly as Jon makes a pleased sound.
"I have to check."
"I know, Tom," Jon sits on the edge of the bed, tugging Tom over, and Tom looks down at her, reaching to comb through her hair gently. Tom likes these moments before, the moments when she's not sure what Jon's going to do next. She likes the way that Jon's hands wander around her belly and thighs, touching lightly, making Tom's heart thump faster.
"Get comfortable, okay?"
So here they are. If one of them sparks something for you, feel free to take it and run, so long as you link me back to the finished product. ;-)
Tom Conrad GEN, meant to be this year's BBB before my brain got hijacked properly. (718 words)
:::FYI::: The fellow at the end is meant to be Sean Van Vleet, based on some things Tom's said. (Namely that he'd always known Sean to be this super positive guy and when he was back in Chicago and such, that Sean mentioned getting together and working together, etc.)
"You need to get out of the apartment at some point," Jon says and Tom sighs into the phone. He sounds careful, like he's trying to not set Tom off. Tom pushes his fingers into his thigh, watching the skin dimple and turn white before he pulls his fingers up. The skin flushes, the slight outline of his thumb fading as the blood rushes back. He feels like that. Like blood rushing back to the heart of Chicago or something.
Maybe he should get out of his apartment.
"Yeah. I guess," he says after a minute, hearing Jon sigh, relief evident through the phone. Tom feels drained and tired, like he could sleep for a week and then a little longer perhaps. He doesn't think about other conversations, he doesn't think about quitting (being fired, his brain pipes up), and when Jon mumbles something to someone in the background, Tom decides that maybe he should listen to his friend.
"You guess, huh?"
"I dunno, I hear being a hermit's in these days," Tom says, biting his lip as Jon laughs softly. It feels normal in a way nothing has felt normal. Jon talks to someone in the background again, voice rising and falling in a way that's oddly comfortable. Jon hasn't changed, Jon doesn't change and Tom takes whatever he can get from that.
"Just you and your camera, huh?" Jon says, and Tom can hear him shifting and Tom can see him so clearly. He's probably laying on a bed, stretched out on one side, phone precariously balanced on his face so he can hear Tom. Tom sighs after a minute, wondering what Nick's doing, wondering if Nick's gonna treat him like he's going to break too. He wonders who told Nick, if Bill called him and said something like, "Tommy's out," or if Mike sent Nick a text. He wonders if they told Nick like they couldn't tell him.
"Yeah."
"Dude, why don't you come out on tour with me and the guys? Take some pictures of the tour and shit," Jon says, and Tom looks at the wall before down to his leg. At his feet are a bag of dirty clothes, needing to be washed, spilling over his foot. He thinks about his camera, sitting on his nightstand, beside the lamp, before he sighs into the phone. It crackles and he can hear Jon breathing lightly.
"Yeah, okay," Tom says finally, tilting his head back and closing his eyes slowly. He says bye to Jon, listening to the laughter from the background on Jon's end, unable to do anything beyond closing his phone and letting it clatter to the floor. He stays like that for a few minutes, absorbing the silence of his apartment before he pushes himself off the couch.
Nick's place is full of people. And really, Tom shouldn't be surprised because it's Nick and it's Friday. Fridays are always some get together at his place, like the minute he clocks out, he's calling everyone in Chicago that he knows. Tom lets Nick clap him on the back and is only a little grateful for the few moments that Nick spends asking him about how things were. He's grateful for his friend's care, sure, but talking about leaving (fired, his brain reminds him eagerly) makes his stomach roll.
Eventually though, Tom settles himself against the back wall, close to the kitchen without being fully in it. To his left, a group of girls that Tom vaguely recognizes chatter merrily, laughing and tossing their hair over their shoulder. Tom watches them until one of the girls notices and the group walks off. He takes a long swallow of his beer, closing his eyes for a moment until the sounds become a buzz behind his lids.
"Hey!"
He opens his eyes, turning. The guy in front of him is familiar enough that Tom thinks he should really know his name, that he does know the guy's name but can't really remember it. Tom plasters a smile on his face, hoping it doesn't look too forced as the guy grins and claps a hand on his arm easily.
Tom wishes he hadn't left the apartment.
Nicole/Cassadee Heart On A Postcard out-take! Meant to go right before the epilogue but I decided against it. Still, I like this bit for whatever reason. (735 words)
:::FYI::: I'm not too familiar with Brian Dales or whatever his name is, only that he dated Chelsea and wrote a song about her. IDK, I didn't think it seemed too out of the realm of possibility that Chelsea and Nicole would text him to check up on Cass. (This was, to be fair, before Nicole and Singer were really active on Twitter.)
Warped starts with a blur of bangs, adrenaline kicking into her chest, the sound of kids screaming, the feeling of sweat sliding down her face. She spends her days trying not to melt off anything she touches and the nights trying to sleep.
"You look miserable, sweetheart," Brian says one night, sitting down on the speed-bump beside of her. The parking lot lights throw him into a weird shadow, haloing around his head even though it makes him look like he doesn't have a face.
"I'm fine. Miss my girlfriend, so I'm kinda lonely," she says, remembering vaguely that Chelsea dated Brian. She remembers meeting the first time she met Chelsea, the year before, a year ago, she thinks. In that time, Nicole's met her family, became friendly with Ashley and Cassadee's met Kenn. She knows him well enough to text and she doesn't know him well enough to ask him to drag Nicole out to a show. She fiddles with the edge of a cookie, taking a small bite, just for something to do.
"Nicole, right?"
"Mmhm. Your ex is Chelsea right?" says Cassadee.
"Just like the song, yep. We're still friends; her and Nic asked me to come check up on you," Brian says, stretching his legs out in front of him as Cassadee breaks half of the cookie off and hands it to him without replying.
"Awesome. You okay?"
"Yeah, like I said. Lonely," she says, finishing the cookie, ignoring the way he nods slowly. Cassadee pulls herself up and smiles down at Brian, feeling her hair sticking to her face. She hasn't showered in what feels like a week, but is only three days and she knows it shows.
"I get it. If you need to talk, you know where I'm at, cool?" Brian says, accepting the hand she offers and standing up.
"Thanks," she says, smiling more at him, walking toward the bus they're sharing (again) with The Cab and the techs. Cassadee goes to the bathroom, tugging on a tank top and shorts after attempting to wash off in the sink. There's a shower in the bathroom, but it's not like that means anything, especially considering that all the guys have stored half of their shit in there. When she gets back to her bunk, she digs her phone out, sending a text off to Nicole.
Chelsea's ex just checked up on me b/c she & u asked?
lol I don't have singer's number, so we figured asking brian was cool. are you okay?
yeah, just tired. so tired.
:-( miss u
u 2
Cassadee looks at the display for a moment, feeling sad and lonely as she curls around her pillow, wishing it was Nicole as she drifts off.
skype date?
y! lemme get chels and k2 out
Skype fills her screen and Cassadee laughs as she sees nothing but a blur across the computer screen. She hears Kevin's laugh and Nicole's giggle as she shoves at them.
"Cassadee, tell your girlfriend that we're allowed to talk to you too," Chelsea says, yelping with laughter as she shoves back at Nicole.
"I dunno, she looks pretty firm there," Cassadee says, giggling as Nicole smacks Kevin hard with a pillow. He makes a noise, laughing and Cassadee can't stop herself from laughing harder as Chelsea starts beating on him with a pillow too.
Nicole looks up, hair all over her face, beaming as Cassadee grins, wiggling her fingers as Nicole winds at her. Cassadee feels like a dorky kid who just went up to her date's parents and said something stupid. She watches Nicole shove her friends out of the room, laughter coming through the speakers of her laptop.
It's kind of hard to feel lonely on Warped, but Cassadee's always been an overachiever.
"Hey there, pretty lady," Nicole says, settling down on the bed, on her stomach. Cassadee feels her heart thump hard as she grins.
"Hey there. Guess what we're doing tomorrow?"
"Getting completely exhausted?"
"Other than that," Cassadee says, laughing, Nicole's giggles drifting through the speakers, filling up her bunk.
"Okay, so what are you doing tomorrow?" Nicole asks, grinning at her. Cassadee idly scratches her arm and grins.
"Nothing," Cassadee says, beaming as Nicole laughs happily. Warmth bubbles up in Cassadee's chest, happy and overflowing as she snuggles down in the hotel room bed to talk to Nicole.
Eventual Mike/Kevin fic wherein Mike is a speed skater and Kevin is a figure skater. IDEK, I never felt like I had the right tone on this? I still love it, but I dunno. (591)
Around the rink, people are staring as Kevin removes his blade guards and pushes out onto the ice. Beside of Brendon is Ryan watching Kevin intently from beneath his hat. Around his eyes are beautiful spikes of color, matching Brendon's and when Kevin unzips his hoodie, he hears a catcall.
Rolling his eyes, Kevin skates out to the center of the ice, taking wide circles before settling. He has a moment or two to see Brendon grinning and hanging all over Ryan. Brendon and Ryan were the first friends he made while doing figure skating in the competition circuit. Ryan had designed his outfits and Kevin ended up rooming with Brendon, helping with the choreography.
Near them but separate enough to not be distracted are Kevin's brothers, Nick and Joe, and Nick has his Game Face on, as Joe calls it. He thinks he looks stern, but Kevin desperately wants to tell him he just looks constipated.
The music starts and there's that rush in Kevin's gut, the one that swoops and leaps as he skates his routine, ignoring the crowd, ignoring the nerves. He pushes into the first jump, a triple and when he lands, Kevin can't stop the grin.
This is what skating is, he thinks, leading his way around the rink. The air whipping past him, the sound of music piping in over the loudspeakers, the sound of his blades on the ice. When he stops with his music, crouched carefully, head buried in the mass of black fabric on his shoulder, he allows himself a moment of doubt.
What if he didn't do well enough? What if he doesn't place? What if Nick sees something he needs to work on for two more hours? What if Kevin falls in the big performance?
But when the applause starts, he straightens up, beaming and fighting his blush when Brendon and Joe match each other for cheers.
He comes off the ice, grinning and waving to people, feeling Joe's arm sling around his shoulders as Kevin puts his blade guards on. Nick hands him a bottle of water and smiles at him, eyes amused.
"Getting a little loose in those triples, aren't you?"
"I was happy. Besides, I'm allowed to be a little loose when I'm skating to big band, I think."
"Keep it tight or they'll knock points off," Nick says, clapping him on the back as they get the preliminary scores, Kevin clutching the water bottle tight enough to feel the plastic bend under his fingers. The numbers ring out and they're good.
They're great.
Kevin figures he's allowed a moment of complete and utter shock, letting Joe and Nick tackle him as Brendon shouts in triumph. Second place.
He's second place in qualifying and all he can think is that there's some guy near Brendon grinning at him.
"Go get changed. I'll grab you something to eat," Joe says, ruffling his hair with as wide a grin as he can possibly manage. Laughing, Kevin lets Brendon smack a kiss against his cheek before he wanders off to the changing room.
He starts pulling his outfit off, allowing himself a moment of utter relief to be out of the tight lycra, cool air wafting over his shoulders and chest. Kevin sits on the bench and absorbs the moment of that he qualified in second place and that even though that guy from his other exhibitions was staring at him again, Brendon and Ryan will be skating.
Girl!Travie snippet that was meant to be Travie/William/Gabe. Never worked out because I never felt like I was writing Travie in the right way. (1139 words)
When Travie's fourteen, she loses her virginity to some dude named David. She doesn't like him, but she thinks he's nice enough. He thinks it's cool that she loves tattoos so much and he lets her talk about it.
He takes his time with her, which she appreciates, but when it's over, the only thing she thinks is Please, for the love of God, get off me.
Later, when she's older (only seventeen, but it feels so much older at the time) she sleeps with David again. She doesn't let him take his time with her, doesn't let him treat her like she's fragile and it's not good, it's not great.
But it's better.
Sometimes, when she feels particularly cynical, she thinks that it's the motto of her life. It's better. Not good or great, but better, and sometimes that's all you can ask for, right? She thinks this when she meets William, when she meets the rest of The Academy Is..., and when she ends up in bed with William, she's drunk.
She's quiet, feeling like her lips are too big for words and when she mumbles this to William, he laughs. He's got this soft laugh for when he's amused but barely, and when she opens her eyes, he's watching her. His eyes are hazy and he looks entirely too tired, his vest hanging down his arms like it was falling off but his elbows are it's coat-hooks.
Travie laughs at that, feeling like laughing takes forever, feeling the room spin as she closes her eyes again. William slides a hand over her arm and when she opens her eyes again, he's looking down at her with this smile.
She thinks, hey, a split-second before he's kissing her, slow, with less pressure than she wants. Travie pushes into him, kissing harder, biting at his lips sloppily. William huffs out another laugh before he presses down harder, kissing her in a way that's just right.
William pulls back to say something, to do something, Travie thinks, but at that moment, Travie has to vomit and she's pretty sure that kills a mood.
The first thing she realizes after the van turns over is that everything fucking hurts and that the yelling is her.
She's not surprised by either of those things, but she's surprised at how cold she is. It doesn't seem right, being cold in the middle of summer, and when she starts shivering, Travie groans. She's been in shock before, but nothing like this.
Nothing like the teeth rattling, bone deep cold and panic that's slowly welling up inside of her. She scrambles, scraping shards of glass along her back, her sides, her stomach, and she thinks that maybe her arms are taking a beating.
But she gets out, looking over the road and gaping at the scene, her stomach rolls and when she hears Seth yelling, she doesn't think. She grabs 'Sashi, heart thumping hard in relief, before they're lifting the van. The sun's beating down on them, miles of desert around as Seth frees his foot, Eric's hands trying to pull him out of the van, out of the window.
Steve's standing nearby, huddled into himself and shuddering as he stares at the wreckage.
Travie wants to go to him, wants to do something other than fucking wait for the police to get there, other than tell the police who Seth and Steve are. Why they were in the van, what happened, and when she looks over at Steve, his eyes are big and he's stopped shaking.
He looks like death, she thinks.
Travie holds onto 'Sashi for a moment, watching Seth being flown out and when it's over, the road is quiet before they're being lead to someone's car. There's a police officer sitting with Steve and her stomach twists, swooping hard so she goes to sit beside him. They don't talk and when she leans over and throws up so hard that she's shaking, Steve puts his hand on her back.
Her knee hurts, her throat is on fire, and they have a show that night.
Basically, she thinks, they're fucked.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket, feeling like a grade-A pussy for texting William and Gabe. She wants the reassurance that's not her band, she wants to curl up between her boys and text with her friends.
William promises to see her immediately at the venue, Gabe's texts frantic before he calls her and the rambling soothes her. There's an itch at the back of her throat for something, anything to numb the panic that's still coursing through her veins, making her hands and voice shake as she talks.
Gabe talks to her until they get to the hotel, all of them crawling into one room together, sitting in relative silence when someone knocks. It startles them into movement, like they're some stop-motion animated movie that Travie's always finding. She swallows hard as they start talking, start moving like normal and her stomach still twists.
She's in the bathroom, throwing up again from stress, nerves, a hangover, everything, when William comes in behind her. He doesn't touch her until she sits back against the wall. They sit, side-by-side, before William knocks his arm into hers. She hisses and looks at the scratches, almost confused by them and how they got there.
Travie lets William fuss over her, touching her skin and ignores the way he blinks at her, all owl-eyes and amusement when she pulls her shirt off in front of him.
He's careful with touching her, and she wants to yell at him to not treat her like a princess, but it just requires too much energy. She keeps hearing the van turning, the sound of a van and trailer on two wheels is something she never needs to hear again, but when she looks at William, he's concentrating on the scratches.
"Thanks," she says, after a moment of absorbing his warm hands on her back. He looks at her in the mirror and shrugs a shoulder.
"Not a problem," he says, carefully forcing out the letters as she leans into his hands, and she doesn't mention the careful way he speaks sometimes. She likes when he's comfortable and his stutter starts to slip, or when he's nervous. She likes it and likes the way his hands are resting on her shoulders.
"Yo, I've got a room. You might be invited if you've got booze," she says, knowing that it sounds forced, but it's better than looking at him and telling him that glass shattering actually sounds nothing like it does in movies. Instead, she lets him answer and takes him back to her room.
More girl!Travie! This time of the Girl!Travie/Gabe variety. I started writing bits of this back in May when I worked at the speedway? Mostly, I just wanted Travie/Gabe kidfic or whatever. It was always a lot of images rather than anything else? Specifically, Travie getting a lot of attention because she's pregnant and on Warped, but dealing with it how she can. Like I said, it was a lot more images than anything else. (658 words)
It's not that Travie is opposed to kids, it's just that when she thinks about them, it's always in regards to someone else. Like kids for Pete, for 'Sashi, and for Bill. It's just never something she's given much thought to. She's never thought heavily about skydiving, but she knows she's not doing it.
So when she starts throwing up in the tour-bus bathroom, shuddering and gripping the toilet she doesn't even begin to think of food poisoning. More-so because she's eaten nothing but what's on her bus, but whatever. Also because she's got a text from Pete from about two weeks ago stating u gnna start sn!! because Pete decided to keep track of her period.
Pete's weird.
And really, the only thing you say to your period being late and throwing up is, "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck."
Travie sits on the floor, pulling herself into a ball because if she doesn't, then she's just fucking hanging out into the hall of the bus. She flushes the toilet and leans her head back against the wall. Her heart's in her throat and she still feels queasy. All in all, Travie's in hell.
Pulling out her phone, she texts Pete with, When was ur party? 1mth or 2?. There's a moment where she hesitates and almost deletes it to keep him from seeing it. She wants him to see it and not see it but decides to fuck it. No sense in hesitating because then that's just more time she's gotta worry.
2
"Shit."
Travie takes the smallest amount of relief that she knows exactly who she hooked up with at Pete's party. And seeing as how Victoria can't knock her up, Travie needs to go see Gabe.
"Schleppy, what brings you to our humble abode on this fine day?"
Travie eyes the ramshackle tent and the old towels that Gabe's lounging on before shrugging and sitting down with him. He pulls himself up and stretches, hair sticking up and sweat lightly on his skin. She's always been attracted to him, but with her stomach roiling from nerves and nausea she can't focus on that to calm her down.
"Yo, why so serious? 'Sashi take the last of your goodies?"
"I'm pregnant, you dick."
It spills out before she can stop it, before she can even think of a better way to phrase it to soften the blow. To his credit, Gabe blinks and goes still, not getting angry, not reacting beyond more blinking.
"Uh. You know for sure yet?"
And that; that is why Gabe is one of Travie's favorite people.
"No. But Pete's party was, like, two months ago. And I think I missed a period between then and now," Travie says, making the face reserved for most of the guys when she mentions her period. Gabe just nods, and Travie's never been more grateful that Gabe's not bothered by it, because at least she can tell him what she knows.
"Think?" Gabe asks, shifting closer to hook his arm around her lightly. He's not freaking out, which Travie knows isn't exactly Gabe's M.O. for stressful situations. But he's also not talking which makes her worry.
"Missed this last one for sure. But I sorta had one a few weeks after the party. Spotting and. Yeah," Travie says, cringing. She doesn't mind, really, talking about it with Gabe. But it's not something she'd actually even talk about with Victoria most of the time.
"So what now?" Gabe asks, watching her. Travie appreciates Gabe not mentioning that this isn't something you think about while on tour. That you have no clue on how to tell your band that on top of being on Warped Tour, your singer's knocked up.
"I have no fucking clue. Take a test, then make an appointment?"
"Cool. Hey, can we tell everything that Vicky-T's the baby daddy?"
Annnnddd one last one.
Girl!Jon/Girl!Tom fic! I had this idea to write spanking fic and I never did? However, what I ended up liking most about this bit was the actual interactions, so I dunno. If you wanna write me some girl!Jon/girl!Tom spanking fic I WILL NOT SAY NO. (886 words)
"And then you pulled the fire alarm?"
"It made a lot more sense at the time," Tom says, shrugging as Jon bursts out laughing, clinging to the steering wheel as a car whipped around them at the stop sign. Tom watches her laughing, trying not to smile herself. She knows it's not the best thing to have to call your best friend in the middle of the night while hanging out in the bathroom of the college.
That's why Jon's her friend, though.
"Tomlin, Tomlin, Tomlin. What are we gonna do with you?" Jon says finally, grinning widely still, hitting the gas and making the turn to take them to Jon's place. Tom laughs softly, shrugging and pushing her hair back away from her face; Jon's hair is short, she had it cut recently, and Tom thinks that it looks soft, especially at the nape of her neck.
"I dunno, Jonquil, what are we gonna do with me?" Tom says, grinning as Jon snorts at her name, but she pulls into her parking spot easily. Tom feels like her and Jon are flirting again, which isn't surprising. Tom remembers them talking about the way it's easy to flirt with each other and she remembers the way Jon had smiled (she also remembers the way that Jon had kissed her, still laughing and pliant underneath Tom).
"I was thinking Chinese and bad sci-fi."
"My kind of date," Tom says, climbing out of the car and letting Jon shove at her. Tom grins at her, liking the warmth of her bare arm that slings around Tom's waist. Her arm touches the gap of skin between Tom's shirt and jeans, and something like happiness sings through her at the touch.
Later, Tom finds herself looking over Jon in the glow of a hastily decided on horror movie (zombies, which Jon is always fascinated by), and smiling to herself. Tom picks at her rice as Jon notices her watching finally, turning to look at her and Jon's smile is simple and soft.
"Jonnie Walker, were you flirting in the car?" Tom asks, putting the carton down on the table as Jon laughs, stretching and linking her fingers together over her head. Jon knows that Tom likes the way it pulls her shirt over her stomach and the way her muscles bunch, and Tom grins slowly.
"And what if I was, Tommy Conrad?" she says, shifting on the couch to sit on her heels. Her sweatpants stretch around her thighs and Tom glances at the drawstrings (and Jon's fingers tangled in the loops) before looking up at her. Tom's jeans are worn and make a muted noise as she shifts onto her knees, leaning closer to Jon.
"I think you should tell me what you had in mind," Tom says, watching Jon smile in the changing light from the TV as Jon kisses her softly. Tom loves kissing Jon, loves the way she tastes and the way that she always takes a deep breath before pressing their lips together, exhaling slowly as Tom takes her time. She likes the way Jon's body relaxes and how she leans forward, pressing close to Tom.
Jon pulls back, licking her lips and heat spreads through Tom's fingertips and chest as she leans forward, kissing the shell of Tom's ear lightly. When she speaks, Tom has to concentrate on what she's saying, shivering hard at Jon's lips and her voice, soft and deep.
"I was thinking I'd spank you and show you just how bad you've been."
Tom feels herself make a noise she doesn't recognize, fingers tightening on Jon's waist and Jon laughs huskily in her ear. Jon's arms wind around Tom and when she pulls back, Tom can see the hint of a sparkle in her eyes in the daylight scene on TV.
"I. Jon?"
"Come on," she says, kissing Tom fiercely and quickly before standing off of the couch and leading Tom into the bedroom. The TV plays behind them and Tom goes with Jon because she always has; it makes sense to go with her than to leave, Tom thinks, watching Jon flop down on the bed.
"You sure?" Tom says finally, pushing her hair back from her face nervously. It's never anything she analyzes, but sometimes she wonders when Jon is going to say no more, when Jon is going to decide they should stop. She always wonders if there's going to be a moment when they don't do this anymore. Jon looks up at her and smiles wryly, used to Tom's tics, and when Jon sits up on the bed and pulls her shirt off, she nods.
"Get naked, you idiot. Of course I'm sure," Jon says, unhooking her bra and Tom can feel her skin itching with anticipation, stripping quickly as Jon makes a pleased sound.
"I have to check."
"I know, Tom," Jon sits on the edge of the bed, tugging Tom over, and Tom looks down at her, reaching to comb through her hair gently. Tom likes these moments before, the moments when she's not sure what Jon's going to do next. She likes the way that Jon's hands wander around her belly and thighs, touching lightly, making Tom's heart thump faster.
"Get comfortable, okay?"
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Date: 31 Mar 2011 12:49 (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 Mar 2011 16:40 (UTC)