determined to save the only life you could save

who am i kidding? i'm totally going to watch this movie.

secrethappiness — Sat, 28 May 2011 03:43:21 GMT

i'm legitimately teary-eyed over this video where hp actors are asked to sum up the movies in one word. it's one part hormones, two parts stress, and five million parts all the good memories i have associated with this series.

grintfacers, thanks for proving why ron is the best.

hippo birfday

secrethappiness — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 08:17:10 GMT

today is algernon_mouse's birthday. when i checked her birthdate on facebook (yeah, i use fb as my birthday reminder, do you have a problem with that?), i was all "girl, are you seriously 37?!". apparently she is.

as has been the custom for the past two years, school is eating my face right now. i told someone the other day that they shouldn't make eye contact with me because the depth of crazy in my eyes is terrifying. so here is what i slapped together as a birthday present.

1. she tolerates me every time i'm an asshole who: whines about my life or school, drops email threads, am mean to her (for her own good!), sends one word replies to five paragraph long emails, etc. basically, she puts up with me on a daily basis and never complains (at least not to my face). that, you guys, is the definition of an amazing friend. so yeah, i love her because she is an amazing friend to everyone in her life.

2-37. see #1.

i just want to drive the point home that she's a great person and a great mom and a great writer and a great motivator and i think you get the point. i hope y'all agree with me.

as my birthday present to you, mouse, here are some dudes you like doing that thing you love. happy birthday! <3 x infinity.

i'm pretty sure google was judging me last night for the search terms i used to find these pics. let me tell you, it is really hard to find pictures of dudes crying.

this one's never not funny.

and this one is for me because it has everything i enjoy - fish, snorkeling, and alex o'loughlin shirtless.

i want all the catherine fic in the world.

secrethappiness — Sun, 23 Jan 2011 21:33:22 GMT

title: Goldilocks
people: Hawaii 5-0, Catherine/Steve
warnings/spoilers: none
a/n: written for sheafrotherdon's cuddling and naps post, re-posting here for my own reference. 739 words.
summary: Catherine's pretty sure that Steve didn't give her the security code to his house so she could pick his locks in the middle of the afternoon and take a nap in his bed.

Catherine's pretty sure that Steve didn't give her the security code to his house so she could pick his locks in the middle of the afternoon and take a nap in his bed. In her defense, she's been on duty for the last 96 hours with almost no sleep and her plan of sleeping away her leave at her place had been abandoned thanks to construction at her neighbor's house. She shucks off her clothes and looks longingly at his bed. If he does mind, she'll make it up to him.

She's asleep before her head even hits the pillow. When she wakes up a few hours later, the sun is setting and the room is bathed in golden light. At some point, Steve joined her and he's sprawled on his back next to her, snoring lightly.

The whole time they've known each other, they've almost never had time to relax together. It's always been nights in hotels with one of them slipping out in the early morning or quickies in supply closets, dark alleys, and one memorable time in the bathroom at the Tower of London.

Even now, they only see each other once or twice a week and there's no set schedule. Circumstances forced them into a no strings attached relationship and Cath had been more than okay with it. Suddenly though, she sees what she could have, that they're finally in a place where they can make something more out of this, and she's filled with a longing that she doesn't even know how to express.

Continuing this train of thought is only going to lead to a lot of weird feelings which Catherine has a lifelong policy of avoiding. Instead, she pokes Steve in the ribs until he starts stirring. When she goes in for the next poke, Steve's hand flies up and captures her finger.

"You know," he mumbles sleepily. Cath has to remind herself that she's not made of stone and can't be blamed for finding him adorable right now. "In some places, you could lose a finger for doing that."

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" Catherine reclaims her finger and leans to the side, stretching her abs.

"McGarretland," Steve says. "We have very strict laws against breaking into houses, sleeping in random beds, and poking people when sleeping."

"If the U.N. doesn't recognize it, then neither do I." Catherine leans to the other side.

With no warning at all, Steve sits up, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her back down.

"Steve!" Catherine tries to flick his ear but he's holding her tight to his side and there's almost no wiggle room.

"Not ready to get up," he says.

She relaxes against him and his hold loosens. He's only got his boxers on and the warmth from their bodies feels so good that Catherine can't think of a good reason to move. She's idly rubbing her hand up and down Steve's chest when she remembers what's been bugging her since she woke up.

"I thought you hated naps. You've never once voluntarily climbed into bed while it's still daylight," Catherine says.

"Maybe I had a long week too. Maybe I'm a lazy civilian now. Or maybe," Steve tightens his grip and pulls her closer, "I never had a beautiful woman naked in my bed making a nap look like a good idea."

"What did we say about bullshitting me, McGarrett?"

"I haven't seen you all week which means I'm nowhere near the quota you arbitrarily set."

"Humph." Thanks to Steve's handsiness, she's lying half on him, half on the bed. "Is this a prelude to sex or are we going to keep napping?"

Steve blinks at her. "Can't we do both?"

"Wow, you just picked sleeping over sex. You have had a long week."

"You staying for dinner?" Steve asks, his chest vibrating under Catherine's head.

"You tell me, I've still got another 40 hours of leave."

Steve rolls onto his side and throws his leg over hers, effectively pinning her to the mattress. "You're staying. Give me a few minutes more and then we'll get up."

"Why do I have to get up? I'm on leave," Catherine whines.

"If you want to eat at all in the next 40 hours, we need to go shopping. Besides, I need to get you a copy of my key so you'll stop jimmying my locks."

Catherine, god help her, smiles against his chest.

fic: One of Those Breathing Tornadoes

secrethappiness — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 05:12:18 GMT

Title: One of Those Breathing Tornadoes
People: Hawaii 5-0, Danny/Steve, Teen
Warnings/Spoilers: None
A/N: Thanks to algernon_mouse and fitofpique for looking this over. Title is a line from 'Into the Dark' by Ben Lee.
Summary: Grace has everyone wrapped around her little finger, Steve's taste buds are under assault, and the true definition of a symbolic gesture is debated.

"If I were you," Danny says, "I would take it as a compliment."

Considering that the 'it' in question is Steve's vandalized truck, Steve's not so sure he agrees with Danny. "I don't know what they do in Jersey but smashing in someone's headlights isn't considered a compliment in most places."

"Maybe they didn't mean it like that but I think that's how you should take it. Think of it like you must be doing something right if you've made someone so mad that they vandalize your car in broad daylight while it's parked at HPD headquarters."

Steve moves to the front of the truck to check out the damage to the headlights and see if he can risk driving home tonight and fix them tomorrow. That's when he discovers the truck is tilted to one side. "Oh man, they got my tires too."

Danny circles around the truck and whistles. "You might actually need a new side panel back here. Somebody really hates you."

"We can't all be charmers like you," Steve says as he kicks the deflated tire. "Can you give me a ride home? I'll get it towed to the garage tomorrow."

"I gotta pick Gracie up from aftercare but I can drop you off after that," Danny says.

"That's cool. I can drive." Steve puts his hand out for the keys.

"No." Danny clutches the keys and makes for the driver's side. "We've been over this before. You are not allowed to drive when my daughter is in the car."

"Aw, come on." Steve stops walking and holds his hands out. "If Grace was in the car, I would be an excellent and safe driver."

"Try being a safe driver when Grace isn't in the car, and I'll think about it. If you don't get in the car now, you're walking home."

Steve stomps around the car and throws himself into the passenger seat.

"Stop sulking," Danny snaps. "Quite frankly, it's unattractive."

"Your face is unattractive."

"Ooooh, burn," Danny says.

By the time they get to Grace's school, the conversation has deteriorated into Steve insulting New Jersey while Danny mocks Steve's tattoos.

"If the word 'power' comes out of your mouth when describing your tattoos, you're officially a douche," Danny says.

"Fuck off," Steve mutters as he gets out of the car to let Grace climb into the back seat.

"Hi Daddy! Hi Steve!"

Danny looks over his shoulder and smiles. "How was your day, Monkey?"

Grace starts chattering about her day, her horrible math assignment, and how Ruthie says that Jason likes Grace but Grace thinks he's yucky. Steve twists around in his seat so he can watch her as she talks. It's like watching a miniature Danny, hands and hair flying everywhere.

"Steve," Gracie says out of nowhere, "you should come to dinner. Danno's making his specialty."

"Oh is he?" Steve asks. "What's your specialty, Danno?"

Grace leans forward in her seat. "You've never had Danno's specialty? You have to, have to come to dinner tonight. Have to."

Steve looks over at Danny. "Did you hear that? I have to."

"Yes, I heard," Danny replies. "Fine, Steve can have dinner with us tonight."

An hour later, Steve comes to the realization that his car isn't the only victim today. His taste buds are about to be assaulted in the worst way possible. He watches in disgust as Danny drops hot dogs into a pan full of boiling water. When Danny drains the pasta and pulls a cheese packet out of the cardboard box that the pasta came in, Steve can't keep his mouth shut any longer.

"Are you serious with this?"

Danny looks up and asks, "With what?"

"Boiled hot dogs with macaroni and cheese is your specialty?"

"Uh, it's shells and cheese, and yes, it is." Danny cuts the tab off the packet and squeezes the cheese into the pasta.

"That cheese is a color that you can't find in nature."

"Excuse me, Julia Child, but this is the meal of single dads worldwide that is guaranteed to make their children happy. My dad used to make this for us every time we stayed at his place and now I make it for Gracie. I wouldn't be surprised if a single dad invented Velveeta shells and cheese."

"There was no other tradition that you could have passed on to your child? You chose cheese that doesn't actually have dairy in the ingredient list and ground-up cow hooves as your legacy?"

"Look, I'm not saying it's a four star meal, but Gracie likes it." Danny stirs the shells angrily before dropping the spoon and turning around to face Steve. "In a few years, she's probably going to realize how gross it is but for right now, she's happy and that makes me happy. Can you try and live with that?"

Steve looks inside the pot and grimaces. "I'm just saying, I've had better MREs."

"What's an MRE?" Grace asks as she wanders into the kitchen.

Steve kneels down and puts a hand on the floor to steady himself. "An MRE is a special meal that soldiers eat. We don't always have time to cook and food can weigh a lot so the Navy gives out packaged meals that are easy to carry and ready to eat."

"They're not very good, Gracie, not as good as this." Danny pulls the plates out of the cupboard.

Steve twists around to look at him. "When have you ever had an MRE?"

"I've done lots of stuff you don't know about," Danny says as he rips some paper towels off the roll.

"But you said," Grace starts and Steve turns back around to give her his full attention, "that you've never had this before."

"I haven't," Steve admits.

"Then how do you know an MRE is better? I don't think it is. I don't think anything could be as good as this."

Danny leans over Steve and hands Grace a plate loaded with food. "Here you go, baby. Enjoy."

"Thanks, Danno. Can I color and eat?"

"Of course. Go sit at the coffee table, and I'll bring your milk out."

Steve stands up in time to catch Danny beaming. "It's ridiculous how proud you are of your daughter's ability to call someone out on their B.S."

"But she's so good at it." Danny grabs Steve's arm and shakes it gleefully. "It's amazing to watch. I can't wait until she starts using her powers for evil on Rachel."

"You do realize that she's going to turn on you too," Steve points out.

Danny carries a glass of milk out to Grace. On his way back to the kitchen, he says, "She'll never turn on her Danno. She's always going to be my little girl."

Steve snorts. "Keep telling yourself that."

Danny spoons out some macaroni and cheese and adds a hot dog to the plate before handing it to Steve. "Dig in. You don't want it to get cold. Then it's like chewing rubber cement."

Since Danny has yet to buy a real table, they have to stand at the kitchen counter and eat. Steve looks at the steaming pile of orange glop on his plate and then back at Danny. Danny's standing at the end of the counter, eating a hot dog while watching Grace color. Steve looks down at the plate again and forces himself to scoop up a forkful of shells. He brings the fork up to his nose, sniffs it and, before he can think better of it, puts it in his mouth and chews. Steve has had a lot of terrible meals in his life but this is definitely the grossest. He never knew that cheese could taste like plastic.

"Ugh," he mumbles. It's sticking to his teeth.

Danny looks over at him and laughs. "Oh my god, the look on your face is priceless. It's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad." Steve forces down another bite and then another. He keeps going until it's all gone and then cleanses his palate with a boiled hot dog, cursing Danny's father. He sounds like a great guy, but he clearly shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near a kitchen.

Danny puts his plate on the counter and walks over to Steve. "Good job cleaning your plate."

"Can we agree that I never have to go through this torture again?" Steve asks.

"Hey," Danny says softly. He moves even closer and crowds Steve against the counter.

"Yeah?" Steve breathes.

Danny leans over and pulls Steve down for a kiss. At first Steve is so shocked that he doesn't move at all, just stands there with his lips pressed against Danny's. Once Steve's brain catches up with the rest of his body, he decides he might as well go for broke while he's got the opportunity and deepens the kiss. He leans back against the counter and puts his hands on Danny's waist to bring him closer. Danny tastes like Velveeta and coffee. It's not as bad as Steve would have imagined.

Steve's reminding himself that Grace could walk in at any moment when Danny pulls away. He smiles and raises his eyebrows meaningfully at Steve. "Okay."

"Okay?" Steve sputters. "When I tried to kiss you two weeks ago, you were all, 'This isn't the right time, Steve,' and 'I don't know how I feel about you'. Then you clam up and refuse to discuss it, even though I've been on my best behavior. And now, for no reason, you decide to kiss me?"

"It wasn't the right time! You'd just been shot!"

"First of all, the bullet barely grazed my arm. Second, if kissing you after I literally took a bullet for you isn't the right time, then I have no idea when the right time would be."

"Every time you break out your special brand of logic, I realize how incredibly fucked up your brain is," Danny hisses. "How was I supposed to know if you wanted to kiss me or if you were just high on adrenaline and looking to get off? Furthermore, I wasn't sure I wanted to open this can of worms. In fact, I'm starting to regret it already."

Steve can't help but laugh. Danny's still leaning into him while Steve plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. He's not regretting anything. "What changed your mind?"

"You stuck around for dinner even though you knew it would be awful. And you ate the entire thing." Danny shrugs. "What can I say? I appreciated the symbolism of your gesture."

"You know what else is symbolic? Getting shot."

Danny's face turns about five shades of red, and he starts butting his head against Steve's chest.

"Ow!" Steve exclaims. "What are you doing? Stop that."

"Eff my life," Danny moans into Steve's shirt.

Before Steve can reply, Grace calls, "Danno, Steve, come look at my unicorn!"

"Coming, baby." Danny lifts his head. "We'll finish this discussion later after I've come to grips with the fact that I'm attracted to you in spite of everything you choose to be. Right now, we're going to go look at my kid's unicorn and tell her it's pretty."

Steve's not too worried. He's picked up a few tricks for derailing discussions about feelings over the years. He squeezes the back of Danny's neck. "Of course it's pretty. Gracie did it."

Danny shakes his head and kisses Steve again. "Good answer."

"Daddy!"

"Come on." Danny grabs Steve's hand and pulls him out of the kitchen.

fic: make our homes on the water

secrethappiness — Thu, 30 Dec 2010 16:31:41 GMT

As predicted, I didn't do any actual work yesterday. I watched some tv, shoveled a lot of snow, and thought up this tiny fic. Thanks to this and that GK AU that I scribbled out 6 months ago, I officially wrote 2500 words in 2010. Well played, self.

Title: Make Our Homes on the Water
People: Hawaii 5-0, Chin POV, Gen
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: Thanks to algernon_mouse for the usual, i.e. betaing, making it less awkward, letting me talk about this show, indulging all my whims, forgetting to fill out the customs form on my Christmas present before going on vacation thereby ensuring that it sat for a week before getting mailed, etc. Title is from 'Sons & Daughters' by The Decemberists.
Summary: "Chin Ho Kelly, I know you're not trying to teach me about mother-daughter relationships," his aunt replies. "I've been a daughter and now I'm a mother. I think I have a better handle on this than you do."

Chin's taking a break, watching Kono and a couple other hotshots show off, when someone sits on the sand next to him. He looks over and smiles. "Auntie! What are you doing here?" He leans over and presses a kiss against her cheek.

She smiles and holds up a paper bag. "Dropping off lunch for Kono. I don't get to see her as much since she started working. I know she's not taking care of herself, not in that little hole of an apartment with only a hotplate."

Chin laughs, remembering the fight they had when Kono had decided to move out. Her mother had been happy to see her go but the idea of her daughter living in a place that didn't have a proper kitchen had been almost too much for her to bear.

"I'm keeping an eye on her," Chin says. "She mostly stays out of trouble."

Her mother sniffs. "Hmm. If I know Kono, she's starting the trouble half the time."

"Why do you think I joined the squad? Someone had to protect those two haoles from her."

She smiles knowingly. "How are you, Chin Ho? Your mother says you don't call enough."

"I talk to her twice a week!"

"That's not enough."

"I think you're just trying to stir the pot, Auntie. You act innocent but I know Kono got that devil's streak from somewhere."

"Don't sass your elders even if you're right." She kisses him on the cheek again and then pushes herself up off the ground. "Tell Kono that I said hi and to share the cookies."

"You're not gonna stick around and wait for her to finish?"

"She wants to know I'm going to catch her if she falls, Chin, she doesn't want me cramping her style. Right now, I'm just her mother. In a couple of years, she'll need me as a friend and I'll wait then."

"That's not true," Chin protests. "She doesn't think you cramp her style."

"Chin Ho Kelly, I know you're not trying to teach me about mother-daughter relationships," his aunt replies. "I've been a daughter and now I'm a mother. I think I have a better handle on this than you do."

Chin holds up his hands in defeat. "Yes, ma'am. Hell, you probably have a better handle on father-son relationships than I do."

"Damn right I do. You men act like a lion with a thorn in its paw when your ego gets hurt and then there's no talking sense."

Chin thinks about how quickly Steve and Danny can go from friendly bantering to angry shouting when the joking gets too personal. He also thinks about his own father who stood by him out of duty and not necessarily because he believed in Chin. He concedes the discussion after that. "You're not wrong."

"I know. Call your mother." She waves bye and takes off down the beach.

Chin was only 10 when his aunt announced she was pregnant at Sunday dinner and that her husband didn't have room in his life for a baby. He doesn't remember much; just a lot of angry whispered phone conversations between his mom and her other sisters, one massive blowout over whether his aunt should move back in with her parents or continue living in the house that her ex had signed over to her, and his uncles threatening to beat the s.o.b. up when his aunt went into labor at a pig bake and started bawling. In the end, she had stayed on her own, raising Kono in that little house and doing things her way. He knows it wasn't easy on Kono. Chin pulled her out of more scrapes than he cares to remember, but he also knows that she wouldn't change anything about her life.

"Hey," Kono shakes her head and sprays him with water, snapping him out of his thoughts. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Chin says. He holds up the bag. "Your mom dropped this off, said you had to share with me."

"Nice!" Kono smiles. She grabs the bag from him and looks inside. "I'll be honest, cuz, I didn't see you make any moves out there that warranted homemade cookies."

Chin wraps his arm around her ankles and pulls her down to the ground. "We'll see about that."

'spring swaps snow for leaves'

secrethappiness — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 18:22:25 GMT

i decided to make today a snow day because there's a blizzard moving through and the winds are at 20 mph, gusting as high as 45 mph. some days you just have to know when to stay home even if the buses are still running. (i'm forcing myself to not make any disparaging comments about the east coast.) i said i would get work done if i stayed home but i'd much rather go back to bed. decisions!

anyways, the real reason for this post is that if there was ever a time you thought to yourself, "i really like 'putting the b back in subtle' but there's just so many words to read", then there's now a solution to your problems. a kind soul has recorded a podcast of the fic! i am in awe of falter for reading 29,000 of our words. i also can't believe that our fic is three hours long when read but that's not the point. here's the recording. you should download, listen, and let falter know how amazing it is.

time to get to work! nb: work equals thinking about hawaii 5-0 and browsing the yuletide archive. later, work will include making bread and finishing a soup. it seems doubtful that at any point, it will include any actual work work.

ooh, there's a smallish snow tornado in the back alley.

a tiny, underwhelming message

secrethappiness — Sat, 20 Nov 2010 04:02:06 GMT

1. every time i try to think about all of the amazing jeff/annie interactions, my brain overloads and shuts down. ugh, annie rolling on the floor and giving up language, teaching jeff a lesson, saving her from the tiny car bomb, the look on jeff's face when annie went off about being ignored all summer, the look on both their faces when the blanket fort came down and how they leaned into each other. dan harmon and company gave me an early thanksgiving treat of awkward sexual tension that will maybe someday be acted upon.

2. while i can see troy/abed, i don't know if i could ever read it. i feel like abed would get super meta about it and about troy suddenly being down with dudes and there would need to be A LOT of pop culture references. i just don't know if that could be pulled off very well in fic. but if donald glover wants to come to my house and try to change my opinion, i would be probably let him in the door.

in conclusion, i have definitely not written 1500 words of annie/jeff smut. i would never do that.

well played

secrethappiness — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 05:58:57 GMT

I feel like this podcast is especially relevant right now.

Science Friday: Online Privacy.

Facebook has dozens of toggles for privacy settings on its service, and a privacy policy longer than the US Constitution. And while many users of the service know that they're sharing information with their friends and associates, they may be surprised to find out just exactly what they're sharing, and with what groups of people. New programs that offer to tie social media integration into outside web sites offer an ever-more social experience, but they also expose even more of your online activities to social media service providers and advertisers. Is it getting too hard to keep hold of our privacy online?

In short, nothing you do online can be considered private especially if Facebook is involved. Also, having a separate browser only for FB is a good idea.

'what am i, some sort of wizard?'

secrethappiness — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 02:58:52 GMT

i'm pretty sure everyone can appreciate this graph.

from hyperbole and a half. the entire entry about trying to be an adult is pretty hilarious.

and here is a video of snoop dogg rapping about sookie stackhouse. "oh sookie"

you're welcome, internets.

fic (!)

secrethappiness — Wed, 26 May 2010 03:53:09 GMT

livejournal, not only did i start writing a fic last night but i also finished it. oh snap! i haven't actually finished a fic in a year and a half so this is kind of exciting. to be fair, it's only 1700 words but it's got a beginning, middle, and end so it counts in my book.

if we're breaking the rules, it's fine
generation kill, ray/nate, college!au
written for pjvilar's ray/nate potluck (there's lots of awesome ray/nate comment fics if you're into that kind of thing). much thanks to shoshannagold for staying up late to encourage and look it over for any mistakes.

As far as Nate's been able to figure out, his first mistake was breaking up with his boyfriend three days before RA assignments were given out. It wasn't the breaking up per se, that had needed to happen, it was the fact that he broke up with the Housing Director's best friend.

That was Nate's crucial mistake. He really regrets his timing on that one. If he had just waited a few days, he wouldn't be stuck in this giant mess of crazy.

Brad disagrees when Nate runs this theory by him. "Nate," he says, "you don't really want to be anywhere else."

"I'm pretty sure I do, Brad," Nate replies.

It's not that Nate doesn't enjoy being an RA. He loves it; he's been doing it since he was a sophomore and he likes to think he's gotten pretty good at it. He had just been hoping for an easy assignment this year, something to wrap up his college career nicely. What he had not been hoping for was to be assigned to the fourth floor of Banner Hall, currently occupied by 16 guys that had known each other since their freshman year and refused to be separated. Somehow they had managed to keep the fourth floor for the last three years even though rooms were given out using a random lotto system. After seeing Brad's computer set-up, Nate had gotten a pretty good idea of how that had happened.

Before Nate, they had managed to go through six RA's in two years. Nate's actually the first one to make it through an entire semester. Until tonight, he had been pretty proud of himself.

"But why?" Brad asks. He sweeps his arm around, probably meaning to indicate the building but really just making Nate nervous.

"For starters, you're perched on the edge of your balcony," Nate answers. "Second, it's the middle of January and I'm freezing my ass off."

"It's not like I begged you to come out here."

"True. But when Campus Police calls me because one of my guys is sitting on the edge of the balcony, I kind of have to do my job."

"Oh."

Clearly this tact isn't going to work. Nate switches to the direct approach. "Why are you sitting here, Brad?"

"It's kind of like flying." Brad mutters blearily.

"It's nothing like flying."

Brad sticks his arms out to either side and sways back and forth. "Sure it is."

"Brad," Nate asks cautiously, "are you thinking about jumping?" They go over this in RA training every year but Nate's never had to worry about it, especially with this group. In fact, if Nate had to choose one of them to be worried about, Brad would be at the bottom of the list.

"No!" Brad leans back and looks at Nate. "Why would I do that?"

The knot in Nate's stomach loosens. "Then why are you out here?"

"Person made me do tequila shots tonight because I'm going base jumping on Sunday. He said he wanted one last drink before I splatter myself all over the concrete."

Fucking Person. "Fucking Person," Nate swears.

Brad snorts. "That's rich coming from you."

"What does that mean?"

Brad pushes himself up and looks down at Nate. "I'm cold so we're going to talk about this inside."

Now he's cold. Nate shakes his head and stands up. By the time Nate makes it into the room, Brad is already sprawled across his bed. Brad is the first person Nate's ever met who's actually too big for the Twin XL mattresses. It's pretty funny to watch Brad arrange his limbs in attempt to squeeze on to the bed.

Nate sits down at Ray's desk. "What were you mumbling about out there?"

"I wasn't mumbling. I was simply remarking that you and Ray seem to have a special relationship."

"What?"

"You want to fuck him and he wants to fuck you." Brad shakes his head. "I can't break it down much simpler than that."

"Ray doesn't like guys."

"Correction, Ray refuses to put any stock in something as binary as gender. Therefore, he likes people."

"Oh." Nate's brain gets stuck on the idea that Ray likes guys and it takes him a few seconds before he thinks of a new reason. "I'm your RA, it would be an abuse of my power."

Brad puts his arms behind his head and props himself up so he can look at Nate. "What's strange is that you've given me a couple of shitty excuses but you haven't actually said you're not interested in Ray."

"Look, Brad," Nate says, "I realized a long time ago that I was going to have residents that I was attracted to, and that it doesn't have to mean anything. Yes, Ray's attractive but I don't want to jump his bones."

"Why are you always in my room?"

"Because your roommate," Nate waves his arm around to encompass all of Ray's crap, "is the most troublesome resident I've ever had. I wouldn't be in here every day if he wasn't pulling some stupid prank every day."

"He only does that shit to get you in here."

"Oh. Really?" Nate cocks his head and thinks about it. "Hunh."

"Look, I'm tired of playing 'Dear Abby' to you two dicksmacks. It's the spring semester of your senior fucking year, Nate. Live a little, break some rules, make Person the happiest hick alive by telling him that you want the whole gay shebang with him."

"I don't know." Nate rubs a hand over his face. "I need to think about it."

"Don't think too long. He might be a special brand of moron but he's my moron and if you make him sad, I'll have to kill you. Listening to Ray whine is like listening to nails scratching on a chalkboard."

Nate always forgets how fiercely protective Brad can be until he sees it in action. When Brad starts flipping through his latest issue of 'Guns & Ammo', Nate takes that as his cue to leave.

+

The next afternoon, Nate runs into Ray coming out of the communal bathroom.

"Fickety fickety Fick, what's up?" Ray holds his hand up for a high-five. "How's my favorite RA?"

Nate slaps his palm against Ray's and says, "You're just saying that because I'm the only RA that hasn't tried to get you kicked out of on-campus housing."

"So?" Ray shrugs. He throws his towel over his shoulder and leans against the wall. He's wearing only a pair of sweat pants and his hair is still damp from the shower. Nate takes a second to catalog Ray's tattoos and make sure there's no new ones before meeting Ray's eyes. Ray raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

Fuck it, Brad's right. It's time for Nate to live a little.

"I heard an interesting rumor last night, Ray."

"Oh yeah? Was it about Trombley fucking his sister? Because I've heard that one before."

Nate steps closer and boxes Ray in slightly.

"It was about you actually. I heard that you've got the hots for someone."

To his credit, Ray almost manages to hide his reaction. If it weren't for the slight flush on his throat, Nate would have thought Brad was lying.

"Who?" Ray laughs.

Nate takes another step. "Me."

"Bullshit."

"I heard that all your pranks are just to get my attention."

"Sorry to say, Fick, but someone's blowing smoke up your ass." Ray tries to step back but there's nowhere to go.

"The parade of chickens down the hallway?"

"I was training them for the circus."

"Hotboxing Rudy's room?"

"I don't care what he says, it's not healthy living if there's no pot."

"Swapping Pappy and Poke's rooms?"

"Thought they might appreciate a change of scenery."

Nate rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Ray. Drop the bullshit for once in your life."

Ray looks down at the floor and now his whole chest is bright red. "I don't know, whatever, maybe." Then he looks up at Nate. "So what if I do? It's not a crime to like someone."

"No, it's not." Nate laughs. "But you could have avoided all the crimes you did commit."

"Because you don't like scrawny guys who never know when to shut the fuck up?"

Nate moves closer until he's practically on top of Ray. He puts his hands on Ray's hips and closes the distance between them. "Because I prefer the direct approach."

"Oh," Ray gasps.

Nate angles his head and moves in to kiss Ray. As his lips graze Ray's, he pulls back a little and says, "Are you going to start behaving yourself?"

Ray wraps his hand around the back of Nate's neck and drags him down into a kiss. The kiss is hot and messy. Ray groans into Nate's mouth before he runs his tongue over Nate's lips. Nate lets Ray explore his mouth for a few seconds before he pulls back and nibbles on Ray's lips.

"Oh fuck," Ray gasps. "Not if this is my punishment."

He grinds his pelvis against Nate and Nate can feel Ray's dick against his leg. Nate pushes against him until their cocks are near each other, and the friction from Nate's jeans as Ray moves under him is almost too good.

"Shit." Nate leans back. "We need to take this to my room before I dry hump you against this wall."

"The room is too far away. Let's just stay here." Ray whispers. He's breathing hard and his hips are still making tiny pumping motions against Nate's.

"I think it would be for the best if you listened to Nate, Ray. Preferably as soon as possible," Brad says from somewhere behind Nate.

Ray laughs. "What's up, Brad? Do I have you to thank for this guy humping my leg?"

"This haunting image is all the thanks I need," Brad says drily.

Nate takes a deep breath and turns around. He grabs Ray's hand and guides him forward down the hall toward Nate's room. As they pass Brad, Nate looks him in the eye and says, "Brad."

"Nate." Brad nods back. "Don't forget, I'm in the ROTC. I know at least ten ways to hide a body."

"Aw, Brad! That's the nicest thing you've ever said about me." Ray hits Nate's shoulder excitedly. "Did you hear that? Brad's gonna kill you if you hurt me."

With any luck, Nate's days of pissing off the best friend are over.

'what you're saying is way complicated'

secrethappiness — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 06:03:46 GMT

Guys, I'm doing my best impression of a Sickie McSickerson right now. I'm hopped up on cold medicine, I've been in my jim-jams since 2 pm, and I don't think I've breathed through my nose since last night. Another sure sign that I'm sick - I watched NCIS tonight and found myself thinking that Mark Harmon is the original silver fox. I only do that when I'm feverish.

I think the fever's broken though. This should be celebrated if only because it means no one (read fitofpique) has to worry about me starting a Mark Harmon fan page or something. It also means I can go to work tomorrow and actually do some work instead of whining about dying.

Anyways, my actual reason for posting (other than talking about Mark Harmon's steely blue eyes) is to request recs for college!AUs. IDK why but I'm really craving some right now. So tell me your favorite college!AU regardless of fandom, and I'll read it and we can chat about it. :D?

'they're like miniature humans'

secrethappiness — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 02:34:38 GMT

i had a dream last night about eating florida strawberries. the entire dream was me eating berries and being fully aware that they were from florida and not california. apparently my subconscious doesn't care that florida berries are now out of season. i can't decide if this means i'm homesick for florida or if i'm ready for summer produce. i do know that i got suckered into buying berries at the store this morning even though they were insanely expensive. damn you, dreams!

i also realized today that i kind of miss true blood. actually, to clarify, i miss askars doing his crazy eric thing. you can only rewatch your favorite clips before you get antsy for new craziness.

teacup humans!

killing someone + dying your hair = bad idea. (this scene is a little graphic.)

the follow-up scene where pam bitches out eric.

godric's death scene. ngl, i watch this clip at least once a week. each time, i hope godric and eric are gonna make out one last time but this has yet to happen.

well this has been a nice waste of a sunday.

'she's uncommonly heavenly, she is so rare, she's beautiful, exceptional'

secrethappiness — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 05:42:04 GMT

a couple of weeks ago, i e-mailed algernon_mouse and wrote, "apparently your birthday is coming up in 10 or 11 days (idk, i can't be bothered to check). anyways, what do you want? please keep in mind that it'll be the week before spring break so i will be desperate for a vacation, under a ton of pressure to finish some work, and will have an insane homework assignment to do. what i'm saying is that 20,000 words of brad/ray ain't happening."

talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy! all of those things are true plus i spent 12 hours at school today and i get to do it all over again tomorrow. essentially, mouse's fic is nowhere near done. essentially, i suck.

as it's now mouse's birthday on the east coast, i've put together some things to keep her happy on her special day including another excerpt from this fic that refuses to write itself.

It's one thing to accidentally interrupt your buddy in the middle of a combat jack. It's a completely different thing to stare at your buddy's dick while taking out your own and jacking yourself off. Coming within a few seconds of each other made it something so fucked-up and hot that Ray refused to contemplate as he cleaned himself off and zipped up.

In general, the quickest way to get a court-martial is to think about getting one so just to be on the safe side, Ray refuses to think about anything for a week afterward. He does his job, keeps his radios going, and sings every song he can possibly think of at the top of his lungs. It works okay until it happens again.

here's a song to listen to while reading my amazing photo essay. She Is Staggering - Polaris

on a day like today, i hope you are taking it easy. maybe you're spending it in bed?

or maybe you're spending it lying in the grass.

if not, this dude is going to suck your blood. hope that's okay!

i promise he's clean.

would any birthday post be complete without jon walker's little toes? no, no it wouldn't.

look who else has adorable little toes! amazing!

and we're back to this guy. om nom nom.

much like myself, askars is not perfect all the time. we both appreciate your understanding and willingness to love us in spite of it.

hey, hey, mouse. thanks for being such a great friend and always being around for me. thanks for listening to me when i tell you to try new things and for exchanging sweaters and not eating my aeros and being an awesome mom and a ridiculously talented photographer and a tough cookie and fair and smart and compassionate and an excellent listener and pretty and, and, and ... i'm guess i'm saying thanks for being you. <3 x infinity!

newsflash: i'm a jerk

secrethappiness — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 02:42:20 GMT

algernon_mouse's birthday is this week. somehow, i've managed to find time to write her a fic. of course, said fic is not actually done and needs a lot of editing but i'm confident it can be done by wednesday plus/minus 24 hours. however, between writing the fic and actually doing my work, i haven't had much time to torment mouse and get her all anxious and anticipatory.

A couple of weeks after they get back from Afghanistan, Ray talks Brad into going to an off-base bar. The first round's on Brad, and by the time they're ready for the second round, the bar's packed and their waitress has disappeared. Ray pushes his way to the bar, and places his order. He's waiting for his change when some chick tries to pick him up. She's cute, totally his type, but Ray can feel Brad's eyes burning a hole into his back. He takes her hand off his arm and says, "No thanks."

...now i feel like she's been properly tormented.

'My God, your feet are what you walk on!'

secrethappiness — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 05:09:24 GMT

mobi_wan and I were chatting on the phone tonight, as we are want to do, and I said something about 30 Helens agreeing. She had absolutely no idea what I was talking about so I went searching on YouTube for a clip from Kids in the Hall that had the 30 Helens agreeing. The only one I could find was this one, 30 Helens agreeing that you can't pay too much for a good pair of shoes, which isn't even the funniest but it's still good.

Does anyone else remember this?

P.S. I am so incredibly tired of studying.

'i bruise you, you bruise me'

secrethappiness — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 06:10:32 GMT

I just saw 500 Days of Summer at the second-run theater and I have to say, I did not like it. It's weird because that movie was designed for people like me but I'm so annoyed right now.

I guess I'm just so annoyed because Tom knew going into it that she wasn't giving him a commitment. I'm like the girl he went on the blind date with, the one who was all "WTF, buddy?". I get that he thought she was the one and he couldn't see the forest for the trees but come on, she was pretty obvious about this stuff. I guess I have a hard time feeling sympathy for someone who knew something might not work out, still did it, and then blamed the other person when it didn't work out.

Plus, it was super-cutesy and affected, and some of the jokes weren't very funny. The movie also started on a bad note for me with the author's note calling his ex a bitch. C'mon, buddy, did you really have to call her out like that? No.

It's also entirely possible that parts of it reminded me of my own recent dealings. Whatever, I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about how much I disliked this movie.

While I'm being super-negative, I want to talk about Glee for a second, specifically some of the complaints I'm seeing about the show. Am I the only person on LJ who watched the first three seasons of Nip/Tuck? Seriously, am I? Because Ryan Murphy runs/used to run that show (I heard he didn't show up for the filming of the 100th episode/last episode so I guess that tells you how he feels about the show now). There are some definite similarities between the shows.

The complaints I see being made about the show, specifically the pregnancy, the broadly drawn characters, slow plot progression (I'm not addressing the minority fail because that's very much happening), are all complaints that could have been made about Nip/Tuck.

To be completely honest, I actually thought Glee was pretty subdued for a Ryan Murphy show. Then Terri decided to fake her pregnancy and I knew we were in business.

In case you don't believe me that Ryan Murphy writes outlandish shows that don't make sense and involve people with ugly personalities, let's do a brief run-down of the first three seasons of Nip/Tuck. (I stopped watching after S3 for reasons that will soon become clear.) You should know that Sean and Christian are partners in a plastic surgery practice. They've been besties since college/med school and Christian is in love with Sean's wife, Julia, when the show first starts. That last one is important later.

- Matt (Sean and Julia's son) performs a circumcision on himself
- Matt has a threesome that his mother walks in on
- Weird sexual tension between Sean and Christian (that's actually a constant in every season)
- Christian trades his sex addict gf to another surgeon for a Lamborghini
- Christian's new gf tells him that he's going to be a dad but the baby is born black so he realizes that it's not his
- Matt hits a girl with his car and gets Sean to secretly treat her
- Sean has a mid-life crisis and winds up doing surgeries for a crime boss
- Julia realizes Christian really is Matt's father

That's just the first season. Over the next three seasons, the following happens:
- Sean and Julia's daughter uses a tampon and develops TSS (she's 10, btw)
- Christian tries to do plastic surgery on himself
- Sean hires a life coach for Julia who sleeps with Matt
- The life coach, Ava, has a son named Adrian who has some mommy issues
- People find out the truth about Matt's paternity and Sean beats the shit out of Christian and throws Julia out
- Adrian and Ava make out and everyone is digusted
- Christian sleeps with Ava and realizes that she's actually a transsexual (she's really tight, something an inexperienced lover like Matt wouldn't notice) (I wish I was kidding about that one.)
- Sean and Christian travel to meet Ava's doctor/husband/Adrian's father who is played with uber-creepiness by Alec Baldwin
- Adrian kills himself and Ava runs to France
- Christian is attacked (and raped) by a serial killer called 'The Carver'
- Christian has sexual performance issues after his attack but gets over them by having a threesome with his gf (the former sex addict) and the police detective investigating the case
- 'The Carver' is revealed to be the new doctor Sean hired while Christian recuperated
- 'The Carver' has an incestuous relationship with his adopted sister who just so happens to be the police detective investigating the attacks
- Matt attacks a transgendered woman and then becomes besties with her
- Julia and some friends make a beauty cream that uses semen as the main ingredient
- Matt dates a white supremacist whose father kidnaps him and the transgendered woman and tries to kill them both in the Everglades. Matt winds up killing him.

I'm not even including all the surgeries they performed. Also, that's just the first three seasons, you guys. Now do you understand why Glee is the way it is?

The one thing I will say about Nip/Tuck is that it had some truly beautiful moments during those seasons. There was a reason why people kept watching until it got too crazy and weird and whatever. If you ever get the chance to see episode 3x01, the one where they surgically separate a morbidly obese woman from her couch, you should watch it. I thought it was the best episode of the series. It was certainly the most heartfelt and nonjudgmental one. I tried to find a clip where Christian and the woman talk about how it's easier to sit than it is to pull yourself out of the pain but YouTube hates me.

Long story short, people who complain about Glee need to remember this is Ryan Murphy we're talking about and he's seriously fucked up. That's it, I think I've exhausted my internet ranting privileges for the next five years.

yet another wip

secrethappiness — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 02:54:13 GMT

You guys, my favorite little douchiest douche who's ever douched, Cash Colligan, has left The Cab. While I was wondering about what they are going to call themselves now, I remembered a fic that I started writing last November about Cash for sinsense. The basic premise was that Cash was looking for love in all the wrong places. He wants to cuddle and have a nice long-term relationship but every girl he dates think he's just looking for a one-night stand.

Obviously I never finished the fic because I suck and because I started writing another fic for sinsense that wound up becoming 'Count Down From Today'.

Anyways, here's 5,000 words about Cash trying to find love and eventually realizing that it's Marshall. Some of my favorite lines that I've ever written are in this fic so I reserve the right to plagiarize myself some day.

Cash doesn't like to brag but he's kind of the shit at beer pong. At least this is what he tells the girl standing next to him. Marie, her name is, with soft brown eyes and curly hair. He's got a good feeling about this one.

[Cash and Marie hook up. Afterwards, she's getting dressed and touching up her make-up and Cash is just lounging on the bed/couch/pile of blankets. He's all "What's the rush, baby?" and she says something about him getting back to other girls and her having to go meet her boyfriend. Then Cash realizes she used him for sex and he gets sad.]

Cash scowls and presses his fingertip against the window. He drags it back and forth over the window, leaving a trail of smudgy fingertips. Johnson will shit a brick the next time he's riding shotgun. Motherfucker hates smudgy windows.

"Maybe I should just go gay," Cash muses.

The van jerks to one side of the road. Singer looks over from the driver's seat and asks, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Haven't you ever heard a girl say she's gonna go lesbian after a guy dicks her over? Maybe there's something to it, maybe I should go gay."

"You honestly think a dude is going to give you cuddles and a long-term relationship?" Singer asks.

"Maybe."

"Cash, did you ever stop to think that maybe you're hooking up with the wrong girls?"

"What's your problem, dude? I thought you were chill with gay guys."

"I am! Some of my best friends are gay," Singer says. "But dude, you are the least gay dude I know."

"Fuck you, man. How do you know how gay I am?" Cash grumps.

He crosses his arms and slumps in the seat. Singer doesn't know shit. Cash is plenty gay.

They don't speak until the next rest stop. Everyone piles out of the van and heads to the bathroom and snack machines. Cash hits up the bathroom first. His stomach refuses to even entertain the possibility of vending machine food so he leans against the van and sulks until everyone comes back.

Marshall takes one look at him and says, "What's got Cash's panties all in a twist?"

"Oh, he's pissed because I told him he wasn't gay," Singer answers. He bounces up and down on his toes, and does a couple of knee bends.

God, what a douche. Cash is obligated to flip him off on principle alone.

"Why does Cash want to be gay?" Ian asks.

"Because," and now Singer's twisting his torso from side to side, "he thinks if he dates a guy, he'll finally get the love and cuddles he deserves."

Marshall, Ian, and Johnson all look at him and Cash blushes. That's not how he described it.

"That's not how I described it."

"I don't care how you described it, it's still pretty fucking dumb." Marshall slaps Cash upside the head lightly. "Seriously, stop thinking with your dick."

"I'm not," Cash protests. "This is me not thinking with my dick."

Ian scratches his head. Singer twirls the van keys on his finger. No one says anything for a few seconds until Johnson announces, "So, shotgun."

Cash scowls. "I hate every single one of you."

"Come on, princess," Marshall says. "I'll let you cuddle me all the way to the next rest stop and I promise to respect you in the morning."

Cash grumbles but he still climbs into the van and shuffles to the back bench. Marshall gives the best cuddles and Cash isn't about to turn that shit down. It takes a few minutes for them to get comfortable but they finally do. Marshall sprawls at one end of the bench, his pillow against the side of the van, and Cash curls up into a ball and rests his head against Marshall's side.

Cash is drifting, the soft rhythm of Marshall breathing lulling him to sleep, when he hears Johnson say, "What the fuck is this shit all over the window? Goddamnit, Cash."

He falls asleep laughing.

*

The thing is, Cash is a little gay. Not so much that the other guys know about it but he's hooked up with guys before, and he's definitely jerked off while thinking about guys before.

The summer before junior year, Cash spent a lot of time in his room, watching porn and getting off. It got a little boring after awhile, though, and he started looking around on the internet for better porn. He's still not really sure why he downloaded gay porn. It took him a few weeks to actually watch it but he was bored and horny one day, and the usual stuff just wasn't doing it.

It only took a few seconds for Cash to get so hard that he was ready to come. He had palm pressed against his dick, trying to slow it down so he could last a bit longer, before he thought about how he was about to come watching a dude fuck another dude. That pretty much killed his hard-on, and Cash had turned off the porn and gone to the mall.

Later that night, though, after the rest of his family had gone to bed and Cash was already lying in bed, he found himself thinking about the porn again. Thinking about how it had looked, two dicks rubbing together and the one guy fucking the other one so hard his balls were slapping against him. The next thing Cash knew, he was rubbing himself through his boxers and he came, like, two seconds later without even turning the porn back on.

A few days later, Cash opened up the file again and re-watched it. When he started freaking out again about the two dicks, Cash took a deep breath, wrapped his hand back around his dick, and kept going.

By the end of the summer, Cash had a folder of gay porn on his computer that was just as large as his straight porn folder and he had become pretty good at fucking himself with one finger. He still wasn't really sure if he was gay or straight though, he just knew he liked getting off.

At the first party of the school year, Cash had run into Missy from his Algebra 2 class. They were both a little buzzed and Missy kept sneaking her hand into his pocket and rubbing his dick. Cash ate her out in a dark corner in the backyard. The sound of her moans and squeals pushed Cash to the edge and when she finally came, he leaned back, pulled his dick out and jerked off with her watching. It had actually been a little hot.

They had stumbled back into the party a few minutes later, and Cash saw some skinny kid with weird hair staring at him and Missy. He had nudged her and said, "You know him?"

She had looked over and said, "That's just Alex, my ride. I guess he wants to go. I'll see you Monday."

Monday morning, Cash had walked into school and seen Missy making out with Dave Ross, the quarterback. The skinny kid from Saturday night had been standing off to one side, scowling again, and Cash had walked over and said, "This sucks."

The kid looked over at him and sneered. "What do you care? I took her to the fucking party and you're the one who hooked up with her."

"Dude, she dicked me over too."

They stood in silence for a few seconds until Alex had said, "I'm Alex."

"Cash."

And that had been that.

[So they form the band and Cash doesn't really hook up with anyone. Then he meets some dude named Kevin (IDK) and they have a secretive little thing. Nothing major, just blowjobs and finger fucking. You know, the usual. They break up because they really don't have much in common besides a mutual appreciation for hardcore gay porn. Even then, Cash is looking for cuddles and long-term relationships.]

Now it's something he thinks about lot, doesn't matter if he's watching some dude eat a chick out or two guys going down on each other. The problem is that it's a lot easier to pick up a girl than it is a guy.

If Cash is honest with himself, something he really tries to avoid, he'd admit that he misses Kevin, and he wishes it was the other way around. He wishes it were easier to slide up to a guy, give a charming smile, and then make out in a dark hallway.

+

They're in Iowa that night. Maybe Indiana. Cash is pretty certain they're in a state that starts with 'I'.

Cash and Singer are the first ones to show up for soundcheck. They stand around on the stage and stare at each other for a few seconds until Singer says, "They're smoking up, aren’t they?"

"Probably," Cash shrugs. He's picking out a few chords on his bass, not really paying attention to anything when he finally figures out what was so weird about his conversation with Singer that morning.

He walks over to Singer and says, "Wait, you said some of your best friends are gay."

"What?" Singer looks up from his mic. "What are you talking about?"

"This morning, in the van. You said that you had gay friends." Cash stares at Singer. Cash knows all of Singer's friends. Hell, Cash's friends are Singer's friends. Cash knows Singer doesn't know about Kevin and Cash definitely hasn't heard about anyone being gay. "Who?"

"Why does it matter?" Singer elbows him away.

"Because it means some of my best friends are gay too."

Singer huffs out a breath and a piece of hair flies up and then flops back down on his face. "You know, we don't have all the same friends. I have friends you don't have. I have a life outside you."

"Bullshit," Cash smirks.

"What about Robbie?"

"Dude, you hated that kid. You only hung out with Robbie because your mom made you," Cash points out.

"Whatever, that's not the point. I have gay friends you don't have. I'm going to go find the other guys."

Singer turns and walks away but not before he trips over a cord. Seriously, Cash has absolutely no idea why this dude is his best friend.

[So Cash decides to put some effort into dudes again. Fuck if his band knows that he's thinking about it, they won't be that shocked. Cash totally picks up a guy after the show that night and there's some bjs.]

Cash comes out of the venue and does a victory lap around the van and the rest of the guys.

Cash comes back around the van in time to catch the guys rolling their eyes. Marshall's got his bitchface on and he asks, "Did you guys actually talk at all? Swap numbers? Did you even ask his fucking name, Cash?"

Cash lowers his arms and replies, "What?"

"You're not trying to be gay," Marshall snips. "You're trying to be more of a slut."

Marshall storms off. Singer and Johnson look at Cash and roll their eyes in disgust before they follow Marshall.

Cash looks at Ian and asks, "What the fuck just happened?"

Ian says, "Look, I'm not trying to be a gay love guru or anything but it seems to me that it's not cool to brag about getting laid in front of the dude who's crushing on you."

"What?"

"Are you seriously telling me that you had no idea about Marshall's big boner for you?" Ian stares at Cash incredulously.

"Marshall's gay?" Cash answers.

"Holy shit, you are the dumbest motherfucker alive," Ian says.

Cash's chest tightens and he feels like he's breathing through honey. His stomach turns and Cash has to swallow a few times to stop himself from puking. Ian must see something on his face because he opens up the van and shoves Cash to the back bench.

"Lie down," Ian says gently and Cash does.

Ian pulls Cash's sleeping bag over him and tosses Cash his iPod.

"I'll take care of it," Ian says. "Go to sleep."

Cash nods and turns over to face the seat. He hears Ian leave the van and he shoves the headphones into his ears. He burrows down into his bag and tries to think about everything Ian just said. Cash's brain keeps skipping though, it's like it can't even begin to understand Marshall liking him.

He vaguely hears the other guys climb into the van but he doesn't acknowledge them. Cash forces his eyes to stay shut and eventually he falls asleep.

*

The next morning, Cash is woken up by someone poking his shoulder.

"What the fuck," he grumbles as he flips over. His sleeping bag is twisted around his legs and he almost falls off the seat.

Singer is leaning over the seat in front of him. He smiles and says, "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. We're at Waffle House."

Cash digs around in his bag and pulls out his iPod charger. He stumbles out of the van and heads to the restaurant. The guys have commandeered a booth near an outlet and Cash plugs his iPod in and sits at the edge of the booth, next to Singer. Ian and Johnson smile at him but Marshall doesn't look up from the table.

Breakfast is weird and awkward. Cash wishes Ian had just kept his fucking mouth shut last night. There is some shit in life that Cash is just not capable of dealing with, and this thing with Marshall definitely falls in that category.

No one else is talking, they look flick their eyes back and forth from Marshall to Cash but don't say anything. Finally, Cash has had enough of it. He gulps down the rest of his coffee and says, "I'm not hungry. I'll be in the van."

It's a nice day out, the sun is shining and it's not hot yet. Cash doesn't really want to lock himself up in the van until he has to. Instead, he opens the back doors and sits on the bumper. He tilts his head up and lets the sun hit his face. He's got a nice little Zen thing going on when he hears footsteps and feels the bumper sag as someone else sits down next to him.

When he turns his head, Singer's sitting next to him, Cash's iPod in his hand.

Singer holds it up and says, "You forgot this."

"Thanks." Cash takes it and shoves it in his pocket.

"So, you really didn't know about Marshall?" Singer asks.

"It's not like he was walking around with some sign that said, 'I like Cash.' How the fuck was I supposed to know?"

"I guess we all thought it was so obvious that you had to know."

"Nope."

Singer doesn't say anything and Cash swings his legs back and forth, scraping the soles of his shoes over the asphalt.

Cash clears his throat and says, "So, I think I'm pretty gay for real."

"I know."

"No, you don't," Cash scoffs.

"Dude, I've used your computer. I know exactly how much gay porn you have on there."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"I knew about you and Kevin."

Cash gapes at Singer. "How did you know about Kevin?"

"I'm not a complete idiot," Singer says. "I pay attention to shit. Plus, you had a lot of hickeys and no girlfriend."

"Then why did you tell me I wasn't gay enough?" Cash asks.

Singer shrugs. "I was kind of hoping you might think about it and have a better reason for coming out other than being tired of girls. Plus, I know you. You say shit you don't mean and then you regret it. I figured if I let you get it out like that, then you would do a better job of it next time."

"Hunh," Cash says. He knew there was a reason why Singer was his best friend.

"What about Marshall?" Cash asks.

Singer answers his question with a question. "Do you like him?"

Cash answers honestly, "I've never thought about him like that. I never thought about any of you like that."

"Really?"

Cash shrugs. "You're my band and my best friends. Seems stupid to mess it up over sex."

"Wow, I'm impressed by this display of maturity."

"Fuck you." Cash punches Singer in the shoulder.

Singer laughs and leans away. He rubs his shoulder and says, "You're the one keeps whining and moaning about wanting a real relationship. Why not date one of your friends?"

"Because I'll fuck it up," Cash says automatically. "I'll fuck it up and then we'll break up, and you know how I get after I break up with someone."

"Yeah, you do get a little crazy," Singer agrees. "But who says you guys would break up?"

"I don't want to fuck up the band."

"I wouldn't let you," Singer says quietly. "We wouldn't let either one of you do that."

"It's not that easy, Alex," Cash says.

"No, it's not." Singer replies. He pats Cash's thigh and stands up. He turns around walks backwards, away from Cash. "It's not that hard either."

Unfortunately, the effect is ruined when Singer gets tangled in his feet and stumbles, ass first, to the ground. Cash throws his head back and laughs.

"Fuck off!" Singer yells. "Ow, my ass."

Cash falls on to his side, he's laughing so hard.

The rest of the guys come out of the restaurant a few minutes later. Cash snatches the hands from Ian and says, "Driving."

Ian shrugs. "Shotgun."

*

Turns out they were in Indiana and now Cash is driving them to Nebraska. They've been on the road for an hour, the rest of the guys are sleeping or listening to music, when Ian says, "You know you've got to talk to him."

"I know." Cash rubs his face. "Hey Ian, thanks for doing whatever you did."

Ian waves his hand. "No worries as long as you fix this shit."

Ian pulls out his iPod and sticks the headphones in his ear. Cash stares at the road, thinks about how fucking flat this part of the country is, and tries to figure out what to say.

By the time they pull up to the club in Lincoln, Cash still hasn't figured out how to approach Marshall, let alone what to say. The equipment unload is awkward and strained, and after a few minutes, Cash stays with the trailer, passing stuff off to everyone else.

Marshall comes up to Cash after it's all done and jerks his head toward the alley. "Can we talk?"

Cash nods and follows him in the alley. They lean, backs against the wall, and avoid making eye contact.

"So," Marshall eventually says.

"So," Cash answers.

"You really had no idea?"

Cash exhales heavily. "No. I can't read minds, dude. If you don't tell me you've got a crush on me, then I'm not going to know."

"I cuddle you all the fucking time!" Marshall shouts. "I save food for you. I haven't hooked up with anyone in months."

"Oh, I'm just supposed to put all that together and deduce that you like me? I thought you were being nice. Again, I'm not a fucking psychic," Cash snaps. "And why do you get to be pissed about this? Why don't I get to be mad that you're fucking martyring yourself over a crush you never told me about? Goddamnit."

Cash pushes himself off the wall and kicks the trashcan next to him. He's tired, he smells, they've got a show in two hours and he has no fucking idea what Marshall wants from him.

Marshall looks him in the eye and asks, "So, are you interested in me?"

Cash lifts his shoulders up and turns his hands out. "I don't know, Marsh."

"It's a yes or no question, assface. Either you are or you aren't. You certainly don't have a hard time saying no to anyone else who offers."

"I'm not in a band, traveling around the country in a van with those people," Cash replies. "You're one of my best friends. I know you better than your mother does. And I'm not going to fuck up the band, not now. So, it's not exactly a yes or no question for me."

"Do you really want a relationship or do you just want to keep fucking whatever warm body you can find? You need to figure out what you fucking want, Cash, because I can't even remember why I thought you were a good idea."

Marshall walks out of the alley and Cash kicks the trash can again. It topples over slowly and he doesn't move out of the way quick enough so some of the trash lands on his foot.

"Fucking great," Cash mutters.

It's a hotel night that night since it's only a three hour drive to Kansas, their next show. Normally it would be Marsh, Cash, and Ian in one room with the rest of the guys in the other room. That night, Marshall heads off with Ian and Johnson while Cash is left standing in the lobby with Singer.

Cash makes a face as he watches them walk away and Singer throws his arm around Cash's shoulders. "C'mon, it'll be fun. It'll be just like when we were in high school."

Cash shrugs off Singer's arm and grabs his bag. "I'm not braiding your fucking hair."

"Dude, that was only one time," Singer protests as they walk towards their room.

+

When they all meet at the breakfast bar the next morning, Marshall avoids making eye contact with Cash and shovels down his food. He stands up from the table and says, "I'll be waiting in the van."

The ride is tense and awkward again. Cash reminds himself that it would be twenty times worse if they had actually dated and then broken up, and this is why he and Marshall shouldn't happen. They make it to the club a few hours before soundcheck and Cash decides to go looking for a grocery store.

It takes him almost a half-hour but Cash finally finds it, a Dillon in the middle of a shopping center tucked into the outskirts of town. Cash doesn't actually need food but he wants a hint of normalcy so he roams the aisles, looking at all the different food and thinking about when he used to go grocery shopping with his mom.

Cash walks down the snack aisle. He stops in front of the Fruit Roll-Ups and stares at them. His mom would never let him get a box, she always said they were full of junk and sugar that he didn't need. Cash's mom isn't around though and he's got enough cash in his wallet to buy a box. After he looks up and down the aisle, Cash reaches out and grabs the box of strawberry Fruit Roll-Ups.

As he walks to the front of the store, tossing the box from hand to hand, Cash thinks that he kind of likes being an adult if it means he gets to buy whatever he wants at the grocery store.

He gets into the '10 items or less' line and looks at the stuff that the guy in front of him is unloading. A twelve pack of Corona, some bread, cheese, and a magazine. Cash looks closer at the magazine and reads the title, 'Guns & Ammo.' He snorts and laughs to himself. Of course. Cash stares at the cover, looking at the machine gun or whatever is on the front and it isn't until the magazine moves on the belt that Cash realizes the guy is actually buying two magazines. Guns & Ammo is covering up the second which, Cash squints, appears to be the latest edition of People.

That pushes Cash over the edge and he snorts out loud. The guy turns to look at him and Cash waves his hand.

"Something in my throat," he says.

The guy looks Cash over and turns back around without saying anything.

Cash whips his phone out and types dude at grcry store buying guns & ammo and pple. He goes to send it to Marshall and then Cash remembers why he's walking around Topeka by himself, trying to pretend like shit isn't blowing up in his face.

He closes his phone without sending the message and makes his way through the line. As soon as he's out of the store, Cash rips open the box and pulls out a Fruit Roll-Up. It takes him for-fucking-ever to get it unwrapped but he finally does. He rips off a piece and puts it in his mouth. He chews experimentally and makes a face. It tastes like shit. He forces himself to eat the whole thing, though, in the hopes it might get better as he eats more.

It doesn't.

He thinks about throwing it out but Cash really fucking hates wasting money, especially since he doesn't have a lot of it. He tucks the box under his arm as he heads back in the direction of the club. On the way back, Cash thinks about how much he misses talking to Marshall. He also thinks about how he didn't know how gross Fruit Roll-Ups were until Cash actually tried them. But he tried them, finally, and Cash is pretty glad he did. At least now he knows he tried.

Cash nods his head. It's the same fucking thing with Marshall. Of course, Marshall probably isn’t going to taste like strawberry plastic but there's no point in assuming it's going to end horribly unless Cash actually tries.

It's almost time for soundcheck when Cash makes it back to the club and most of the gear has been loaded off the trailer. Cash throws the Fruit Roll-ups in the van and grabs his bass out of the trailer.

Johnson's grabbing his drums and he looks up at Cash. "Nice of you to show up."

"Don't front, Johnson. I know you love me," Cash replies. He turns around and runs right into Marshall. Cash grunts and Marshall huffs in surprise.

Cash steps back and holds up his free hand. "Sorry man, didn't see you."

Marshall stares over Cash's shoulder and says, "My bad, I should have warned you."

"I'll just go –" Cash points to the club and Marshall nods.

Cash steps to his left to move around Marshall but Marshall steps to his right and they're blocking each other again. Cash moves to the other side but so does Marshall. It would be fucking hilarious if it wasn't so fucking awful.

"Look," Marshall says, "you stay put and I'm going to move. Okay?"

He moves and Cash walks by him and toward the club. He stops at the stage door and turns around. Marshall is standing by the trailer, watching him, with a pinched look on his face. Cash opens his mouth to shout something and closes it again. He's got no clue what to say to Marshall and Singer's right, Cash has never once said the right thing at the right time.

Cash sets his bass up and tunes it. He's in his own little headspace, tuning and going over the song list when he senses someone come up next to him. He looks up and nods at Ian.

"Hey man," Cash says.

"Thought you said you were going to fix things," Ian replies.

"I'm trying."

"Your trying sucks."

Ian turns to walk away and Cash grimaces.

"I don't know what to tell him." Cash calls after Ian.

Ian turns back around and asks, "What do you mean?"

"I want to try it, I want him." Cash sighs. "But I don't know how to say it and I know I'll just fuck it up."

"Maybe your problem is that you're talking too much," Ian says.

Cash really hates stoner philosophy. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Before Ian can answer, the rest of the guys come on the stage and Singer says, "Let's check some sound, bitches."

They make it through soundcheck and then the club doors open up. After that it's a lot of running around and trying to get everything ready and sell merch. There's no time to talk to Marshall before they go on stage.

Their set sucks, and Cash knows it's his fault. He's too busy staring at Marshall and willing him to read Cash's mind, and trying to figure out what Ian meant to actually pay attention to keep the beat.

As soon as they're off the stage, Marshall turns to Cash and yells, "Fucking Christ, Cash. Do you think you could maybe try to play bass every once in awhile? After all, that's what the bassist fucking does."

Like a flash, it hits Cash what Ian meant. He steps close to Marshall, grabs him by the neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

"What the –"

As first kisses go, it's not good at all. Marshall is struggling against Cash and they're both sweaty and smelly. Cash doesn't stop though. He keeps his lips pressed against Marshall's and eventually Marshall calms down. After a few more seconds, he finally starts kissing Cash back.

They break apart after a few seconds and Marshall pulls back. He looks at Cash and smiles.

"If you're fucking with me, Cash Colligan, I will kill you in your sleep."

Cash shakes his head. "I'm so not fucking with you."

+

"So, you and Marsh?" Ian says.

"Fuck yeah."

[Ian and Cash do some laundry and talk about gay sex. Cash is pretty excited about doing it with Marshall.]

"That shit's like bow hunting a unicorn." Ian gapes at him and Cash adds, "An opportunity like that only comes along once in a lifetime if you're lucky, dude, so you've got to take it. You've got to take that unicorn down."

From behind him, Cash hears Marshall say, "Please tell me you did not just compare having sex with me to hunting and killing a unicorn."

Cash turns around and smiles. "I could but I'd be lying. And remember, you said I wasn't allowed to lie."

Marshall sighs and shakes his head.

Ian says, "Dude, Marshall, it's not too late. You can still change your mind or something."

Cash walks over to Marshall and slings an arm over his shoulder. He leans close and mouths Marshall's neck just until Marshall is breathing a little quicker. Then he looks up at Ian and says, "No, he really can't."

Marshall steps on his foot, hard, and Cash winces but doesn't let go.

They finally get to the hotel that night and Cash pushes his way to the front. He grabs a room key from Singer and says, "I got Marshall."

Johnson grabs a key and says, "Yeah, douchetard, we know."

"Well, I'm just saying. Me and Marsh are gonna be busy tonight so leave us alone." Cash reaches out and grabs Marshall by the wrist. He pulls him toward the elevators and yells over his shoulder, "Later, suckers."

When he turns back around, Marshall is staring at him.

"What?" Cash asks.

"I can't figure it out."

The elevator finally fucking comes and Cash gets on and waves Marshall on. "Can't figure what out?"

Marshall sighs, "Why I'm still attracted to you."

"Easy, my awesome hot bod." Cash makes double fists and pumps them up and down.

Cash runs and jumps on the bed.

[And then they have sex and it's pretty failtastic because Marshall has a hard time letting Cash take the lead but it's still awesome because it's Marshall. Cash continues to be ridiculous but now he's ridiculous and in love.]

happy birthday! (belated)

secrethappiness — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 00:10:48 GMT

Dearest mobi_wan,
~~Today is~~ Yesterday was your 27th birthday. I think we can all agree that this year is starting out pretty shitty. But! I have high hopes that things will only go up from here. You are an awesome person and I'm really lucky to have someone like you who puts up with my crazy on a daily basis in my life.

If I was in Florida, I would totally get you drunk and drive you to Bradenton so we could watch Star Trek. As I'm nowhere near Florida, that can't happen. Instead, I give to you the next best thing.

Kisses,
Me

P.S. Sorry all of your presents are late. Seriously, why are you still my friend?

Title: Adventures in Butt-sniffing
Pairing: Zach Quinto/Lee Pace
A/N: For everyone who isn't mobi_wan, here is some background for this pairing: Both Lee Pace and Zach Quinto have listed hiking with their respective dogs as one of their favorite pastimes. Here is Lee and his dog. And here is an example of Zach and Noah, with Noah sporting his sweet kerchief.

… That's pretty much all the background you need to know for this. Deep down, I'm a very shallow person. Oh, and Anna is Anna Friel and Bryan is Bryan Fuller.

Adventures in Butt-sniffing

Lee bends down and clips the leash to Carl's collar. He turns to lock the car and when he turns back around, Carl has the leash in his mouth and is staring at Lee like Carl can't believe he's being forced to undergo this humiliation.

"I know, buddy, I know." Lee scratches Carl's head. "It's just until we're away from all the people and I won't get in trouble."

Carl sniffs and drops the leash. Lee picks it up and heads in the direction of the trailhead. There are three trails and Lee picks the longest, the 5 mile one. He needs a few hours to himself, away from his phone and email and everything else starting to feel like a chore.

After fifteen minutes of not seeing or hearing anyone, Lee figures it's safe. He looks down at Carl. "You ready?"

Carl jumps up and puts his paws on Lee's chest. Lee laughs and takes the opportunity to unclip Carl's leash. "Go."

Carl drops down and runs ahead. Lee takes a deep breath and leans over, touching his hands to his feet. He's feeling looser and happier already. Carl's disappeared around the bend in the trail. When Lee finally catches up to him, the dog's sitting in the middle of the trail, stick in his mouth, waiting for Lee.

"What a good boy," Lee says. Anna claims that Carl is spoiled and makes fun of Lee for talking to Carl like he's part-human. Lee's pretty sure that she's just jealous her dog isn't nearly as well-behaved as Carl.

Carl drops the stick and takes off running again. He turns around another bend in the trail. Lee is picking up the stick when he hears Carl barking. Another dog starts barking too. "Carl," Lee yells, trying not to panic. "Carl!"

When Lee runs around the bend, he finds Carl sniffing the butt of a hound mix. The dog's owner is standing off to the side, watching them with an amused expression on his face. He looks up at Lee and says, "I assume that's your dog currently getting fresh with my dog?"

Before he can think better of it, Lee says, "It's not like your dog is complaining."

The guy laughs and says, "Noah, get over here."

The dog trots over to his owner and sits down next to him.

"Carl," Lee says. "Carl, come."

Instead of heeling, Carl walks over to the side of the trail, roots around a little, and grabs a stick from the underbrush. He then walks over to Lee, drops the stick on Lee's feet, and stares up at him. So much for looking like he has any control over his dog. He hears the guy snort and Lee blushes.

"So, I'm Lee," he says. "My dog is Carl."

"Zach," Zach points to himself. "That would be Noah."

"Nice to meet you, sorry about Carl's forwardness. He usually doesn't try that move until the second date." Lee picks up the stick and throws it. Both Carl and Noah run after it and they start playing tug-of-war with it.

Zach laughs. "Good to know." He stares at Lee quizzically. "You're Lee Pace, aren't you?"

"Yes?" Lee makes a face. "Do I know you?"

"You really don't remember me?" Zach asks.

There are times when Lee really hates his inability to put names and faces together, this is definitely one of those times. "I'm sure I should but I don't."

"We met at Bryan's Christmas party two years ago."

It all comes rushing back to Lee. Anna and Kristin had insisted that he go that year even though he had wanted to stay home and nurse his broken heart. The only thing Lee remembers about that party is standing in the corner and getting drunk with Chi.

"Shit, we did. You're on 'Heroes' and I'm apparently an asshole."

"It's okay," Zach laughs. "I didn't really expect you to remember. We barely talked and you didn't leave your corner much. So what are you up to now?"

There's the question that Lee hates the most. He's thinking of a way to answer it when he looks at Noah. "I'm sorry," Lee says, "but is your dog wearing a kerchief?"

Noah drops the stick and turns to look at Lee and both the dog and Zach cock their heads at him. Lee tries not to laugh.

"Yes, he is," Zach says smoothly. "It makes him easy to find in a crowd. Also he looks good in it. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, no," Lee says quickly. "If I could, I'd probably put a kerchief on Carl." Carl stops chewing on his end of the stick and stares at Lee as if to say, "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Lee shakes his head minutely and Carl starts gnawing on the stick again.

"Good," Zach replies.

"So, we should probably get going." Lee points up the trail. "I was planning on doing the full trail."

"Yeah, we should too. I've got an appointment this afternoon."

Lee leans forward and sticks his hand out. "It was nice meeting you again, Zach. I promise I'll remember you next time."

Zach shakes his hand. "I should hope so. Although, I have been told that when it comes to me, third time's the charm so you might want to keep that in mind."

Lee freezes, he's pretty sure Zach's flirting or at least inviting Lee to see him again. He's not very good at this though, most of the time it's the other person who does all the work and so Lee's got no idea how to smoothly ask for Zach's number. He doesn't say anything and Zach shrugs. He walks away and Noah trots down the trail behind him. A little voice that sounds like Anna is yelling at Lee to fix it.

"Hey Zach," Lee calls out.

Zach turns around. "Yeah?"

"Carl says that he really wants to hang out with Noah again."

"Oh, Carl wants to hang out?" Zach smirks and raises an eyebrow. He looks like he wants to say something else but he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "I would hate to deprive Carl of Noah's company. Besides, I think Noah wouldn't mind seeing Carl again. Who knows what moves Carl will break out on their second date?"

"Great." Lee rattles off his phone number.

Zach waves the phone back and forth. "I'll call you, we can arrange a doggie playdate."

"Carl looks forward to it." Besides him, Carl snuffs and shakes his head. Lee can't believe his own dog is trying to salt his game. Maybe Anna's right about Carl.

Zach and Noah start walking away again but not before Zach says, "And for the record, I'll also want to be arranging a human playdate so keep your calendar open."

BRB, busy riding my dramallama!

secrethappiness — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 05:36:38 GMT

i have already talked about this to belladonnalin and koncupscience but i might talk about this with you guys.

it turns out that the things you thought were cool at 15 are not as cool at 31. brian wakes up one day and he's fucking tired. he's tired of living on a bus, dealing with label assholes, never being home for more than a month, everything. the music business is a money losing industry right now and brian knows it as well as anyone. he thinks about it for a few days before he decides that it's the right decision.

he tells the band first (he can't not tell them first). no one says anything after he makes his announcement. they all stare at him in shock until gerard clears his throat and asks, "you're breaking up with us?"

"no," brian reassures them. "i'm still your friend, i just don't want to be your manager anymore. i don't want to be anyone's manager anymore."

"what are you going to do?" ray asks.

"i don't know." brian shrugs. "i think i might go back to school or something."

"well, if it's what you want." frank stands up and moves in for a hug. he always was a huggy bastard.

frank pulls brian in tight. he smells like detergent and smoke and frank. brian swallows past the lump in his throat and pats frank's back. "frankie, it's not the end of the world."

franks lets go and steps back. "i guess not."

brian looks around the room and makes eye contact with bob who hasn't said anything. "bobert, you okay?"

"yeah, fine. i need a cigarette." bob stalks out the room.

gerard looks at brian and says, "you know bob."

"i do know bob." bob's pissed that brian didn't talk it over with him first. the reason brian kept his mouth shut is because he knew bob would shut down like this.

brian got out of the la real estate market while it was still good and actually made money on his house. that plus the money he saved from working with my chem means he's got a little nest egg. he looks around a little and finally finds a condo in downtown portland that he really likes.

the guys, except for bob, are really happy for him and promise to visit every time they roll through town. bob doesn't talk to brian at all even at brian's going away party.

brian times his move so it's the middle of summer. he enrolls in portland state and spends the next month getting to know portland and the surrounding area.

he doesn't work because he doesn't have to so he takes a full course load. it's a little weird
the first time he sees one of the kids in his class with a my chem button but he gets over it.
because he's not working though, brian winds up spending a lot of time in his head. he realizes that's no good the first time he thinks about heading down to the student housing and looking for pot. so he starts going to meetings again, every day some weeks, and meets a few people there.

then he does group work in class and meets more people there. by the time fall break rolls around, brian's got some really good friends. the full course load is kind of kicking his ass but other than that, things are pretty awesome.

and if he misses the guys every single day, well, that's his business.

he's walking out of classes one afternoon in november while talking to roger, another non-traditional student (fuck, brian can't believe he now calls himself a non-traditional student), when he sees bob leaning against a wall. brian's seen bob a lot around town, or rather, brian sees tall, blond guys and every time, he's convinced it's bob until brian gets up close and realizes it's not bob at all. he ignores the bob lookalike until the guy pushes off the wall, stubs his cigarette out under his shoe, and walks over to brian and roger.

"schechter," the bob lookalike says.

brian stares and it turns out it is bob who also happens to be the last person brian expected to see on the campus of portland state. "bryar," brian says dumbly.

"how's college life going?"

"uh," roger interrupts, "i'll see you tomorrow, brian. we'll work on the project then."

"awesome. later, roger," brian replies without taking his eyes off bob.

....

(in my mind, they go back to brian's condo, snip at each other some more, go out to dinner, fight some more, etc. bob goes out for a cigarette and brian texts gerard about what's going on. gerard tells him to be cool. they go to bed and brian winds up going into bob's room at 3 am and waking him up. they talk in the dark, brian crawls on to bob's bed and sleeps next to bob. they don't touch at all. in the morning, things are better. they slowly stop snapping at each other. brian pulls an all-nighter a couple of weeks later and bob kisses him in the kitchen at 1 am when brian's stressing about government intervention and how it relates to sub-saharan africa.

bob's always had shitty timing.

i would write this all but i have to pick someone up from the airport right now.)

there is a silent epidemic of accidental semen drinking

secrethappiness — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 03:51:18 GMT

I was browsing through the prompts on the Star Trek Kink Meme the other day when I came across this gem - Kirk/Bones preslash. The 5 times Bones and Kirk drank the others semen by accident and the 1 time they did it on purpose.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "How do you accidentally drink someone else's semen one time, let alone five times? The excuse 'whoops, I tripped, hit your penis, and drank your semen. My bad!' barely works for the first time." I seriously loled about it all day. I also took advantage of my friends and forced them to discuss the epidemic of accidental semen drinking via emails/texts. You guys, this madness must be stopped. (The strangest part is that the resulting fic wasn't awful.)

Anyways, the real reason I'm posting is that the fic I made a mix for in bandombigbang has finally been posted. Questions for the Answers, Tom/Spencer. Tom's kind of a sad bastard but he's trying to figure it out. My mix is here, the last one.

You go read the fic while I continue to ponder accidental semen drinking.

ETA: And because I have talked about this one a lot, the Star Trek RPF ficlet where Zach gets Chris pregnant, and Chris cries a lot. I'm eagerly awaiting the posting of the 16th and final part (and I suspect so is mswalter). My Baby-Daddy's Not A Half-Vulcan (He Just Plays One in the Movies)

still delicious!

secrethappiness — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 05:40:10 GMT

I was bored the other day and browsing through ohnotheydidnt when I came across what looks to be a fairly recent picture of Ben McKenzie and Adam Brody. Naturally I saved it and sent it on to mobi_wan. A couple of other people have expressed interest so I'm reposting.

secrethappiness: I don't know when this picture was taken, hopefully recently, but I love everything it chooses to be.
mobi_wan: So is it bad for me to imagine them making out on the table?
secrethappiness: It could either be so bad that it swings back into right or if being bad is wrong, I don't ever want to be right. Take your pick of the tired cliche. No matter which, I'm all over that.

We're not the only ones imaging them making out at/on the table or in the parking garage after they finish lunch, right? Right?

ION, it's 10:30 and I've got my jammies on and am curled up in bed. Welcome to lameville, population me.

'Gee, I didn't think the woman I'd be checking out at Spring Break would be Mom.'

secrethappiness — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 21:47:32 GMT

Hey guys, I kind of feel like writing today. (I know, it's a miracle!) Anyways, first 5 or 6 (maybe even 10) people to post a comment with a fandom/pairing/prompt will get a drabble or a ficlet or something.

Come on, don't make me actually do work today. It's Spring Break!

'happy birthday, beautiful, all the birds of this day sing a song'

secrethappiness — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 07:07:43 GMT

I am a complete and failure at everything that isn't school these days. Scratch that, I'm also a bit of failure at school too. At any rate, algernon_mouse's birthday took me by surprise this year. I didn't even get her a card, you guys. I'm such a jerk.

I told Mouse the truth on Sunday and asked her what she wanted. Her one request was to make a "top ten list of things I would have done or said if I weren't stupidly busy. And besides, all you got me for my birthday was a shitty picspam and a box of broken promises, so suck it, bitch." [Editor's note: This is a direct quote, I wouldn't have called her a bitch on her birthday but she insisted.]

So here it is, a list of ten things I would have done or said about Mouse on the occasion of her birthday.

1. I miss talking to you on the phone. It's possible this is my fault since I'm never home but I still miss laughing and talking with you about nothing for hours.

2. Butcher. That's right, I would have done him in honor of your birthday. That's the kind of true friend I am, girl. I dare you to find this dedication in anyone else.

I'd nibble on him like he was a candy bar.

He could set up his kit for me anytime.

I would totally let him be the big spoon.

Seriously, for your birthday, I would make the ultimate sacrifice and not kick him out of bed unless he wanted to have sex on the floor.

3. MOVE TO GUELPH!

4. I might have talked about how you are one of my favorite people and how I can always depend on you. I might have also mentioned that while I joke about how good you are for my ego, your belief in me and willingness to always talk about my "good points" has given me faith in myself on days when I just haven't had it.

5. You are an awesome mom. I hope you realize that you can't fix everything the kid's going to feel about his situation and you shouldn't try. He may feel weird inside but he will never doubt your love. The weirdness may go away with time but the confidence and strength that comes from knowing that your mother loves you stays with a kid forever.

6. BOYFRIEEEEEEENDS!!!!!

In this one, they're wondering how two people can write so much porn about them. It's a tough but somehow you and I always manage to pull through.

Whoops! Unexpected picture taking while in the middle of discussing how to remodel the guest bathroom. It turns out Bob has strong opinions about tile versus paint while Brian doesn't care as long as the bathroom gets done sometime this decade.

"And this is why we don't hold hands in public anymore," Bob thinks as he avoids making eye contact with the photographer and tries not crack up at the expression on Gerard's face.

Sometimes, after you finishing shaving a dude with an electric razor, you need to work off that frustrated longing with some wrestling. Who among us hasn't been in that situation?

7. Composed a haiku about your obsessive love of bleach.

8. Your kindness and charity is truly amazing. I wish everyone (including myself) could be as giving as you.

9. I would have written you a little ficlet about this dude always popping up on his tippy-toes and how Spencer mocks him for it. One day, Jon gets tired of being mocked for being short so he punches Spencer and it turns into a wrestling match and then they fuck.

Why are you so obsessed with this dude's toes?

Even Jon is confused by it. He scratches his face and wonders.

The sombrero would have had a prominent role in that ficlet.

10. What's a birthday list about you without mentioning the thing that brought us together? It's been awesome to watch you develop into a strong, evocative writer over the past 4 or 5 years. Even though it's involved reading about Ryan Atwood going down on Sandy Cohen, wrestling you into writing semi-cheerful endings, and fixing more commas and misspellings than I care to remember, it's all been worth it.

And one extra one for good luck -

11. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOO!!!! <3 <3 <3

Much thanks to morebliss, overnighter and koncupiscence for providing me with pictures.

Be free, little WIPS!

secrethappiness — Sat, 07 Mar 2009 05:25:24 GMT

I was going through my fic folder last week and found a ton of fics that are never going to be finished so I decided to post them. I kept three back because I did actually like those fics once and I wouldn't mind finishing them. The rest, not so much and I think you'll understand why once you read them.

At some point during the OoTP moot, someone dared me to write Ron/Snape. This is what I came up with and never finished.

The last time Ron saw Snape, it was at an Order party celebrating the end of the war, the death of Voldemort, the announcement that Bill and Fleur were expecting their first child, and the fact that it was a Wednesday. Really, at that point, they were drinking for any reason they could find.

Snape had stood in a corner the entire time, drinking from a glass that kept refilling itself. In a twist, Ron too had spent most of the party drinking out of a glass that was never empty. Unlike Snape, he was drinking to find his courage. Ron knew he had to tell Harry that he wasn't going into Auror training, and he knew he needed a lot of Firewhiskey to do it.

All in all, they hadn't had much interaction that night. And seeing how that was the last meeting of the Order because, as Kingsley had said so eloquently that night, there wasn't much need for a secret society fighting the powers that be considering that most of the Order had become the powers overnight, Ron hadn't actually seen Snape in almost six years by the time he walked into the Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on a Saturday morning.

"Mister Weasley," Snape drawled. "I had heard that you joined up with your miscreant brothers."

Ron finished counting the number of Hex-a-Pest bottles on the shelf before he turned around and replied, "I don't know if I'd call them miscreant. Perhaps troublesome and slightly insane but they're certainly not villainous or heretic."

"Congratulations, Weasley. You know the definition of a word. Your parents must be so proud." Snape held up an amber bottle. "I found this in the Slytherin common room last night. As far as I can tell, it's designed to give a person some kind of rotting flesh disease."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Sounds nasty. What does it have to do with us?"

"It's got a Weasley label on it."

Ron grabbed the bottle and looked at it. Sure enough, there was a Weasley label on it. He pulled his wand out of his robe, tapped the bottle, and waited for a code to appear. When none did, he looked back up at Snape. "It's a fake."

Snape sneered at him and Ron took the chance to evaluate him as he did. Snape looked almost the same, a bit better-rested, but then everyone did nowadays.

"How can you say that it's a fake?"

"Because," Ron grabbed a bottle of Hex-a-Pest and tapped it with his wand. "Every label on an authentic Weasley product has a charm on it. If a Weasley or a someone who's been keyed to the charm taps it, a code will appear." He showed the bottle which now said '761' to Snape. "Pretty ingenious really."

Snape leaned back on his heels and sniffed. "I must admit, I'm somewhat surprised that your family came up that."

"Well, we got tired of all the imposters after awhile. Every time one of their fake potions went bad, we got the blame." Ron shrugged. "It was pretty cut and dry."

"Thank you for your time, Mister Weasley. While you haven't given me any clues, you have helped to eliminate a suspect."

Ron pulled out his clipboard. Before he started back on inventory, his least favorite part of the job, he remarked, "If you have any more, feel free to bring them in so I can check them. Don't want anyone to break our code."

"Thank you, I may take you up on that offer."

To Ron's surprise, Snape actually does take him up on the offer over the next few weeks. Every bottle was a fake but by the time Snape brought in the fourth bottle, Ron decided it was time to call an emergency board meeting.

Of course, the problem with working in a family-owned business was that you had to work with your family. Board meetings were just as likely to turn into wrestling matches.

******

- Over the past few years, Ron had grown into himself, or so he liked to tell himself every morning when he looked in the mirror. He was twenty-six now, a decorated War hero and a decent businessman. He couldn't really ask for much more.

- "Some child named Spencer. He was a Hufflepuff."

"Was?"

"I don't allow malicious poisoning of my students."

- "Why aren't you an Auror?"

"I didn't want to be one."

"Rubbish, Weasley. The Boy Who Annoyed Us All became one and everyone knows that two of you weren't actually able to go anywhere without each other."

"Look, do you want to know the truth?" Snape said nothing and Ron continued. "It turns out that it takes a certain type of person to kill people and utter other dark curses. It turns out I'm not one of those people. I figured that out during the war. Go ahead, mock me for being weak."

"Why on earth would I mock you for recognizing the truth about yourself, Weasley?"

- Snape calls him Mister Weasley in bad moods and Weasley in a good mood.

- The day after Draco Malfoy is killed was the day of their weekly meeting. Ron sat down at their usual table, and said , "I'm sorry about Draco."

Without looking up, Snape said, "I doubt that."

"No, I am. We weren't exactly best friends but I was always civil to him at the Order reunions. Besides, no one deserves to be assassinated by one of Lucius's old cronies."

"The sins of the father visit the son." Snape finished off his firewhiskey in one swallow.

Ron raised his eyebrows and signals to the waitress for two more.

- He's not quite sure how it happens but that night, after more than a few firewhiskeys in Draco Malfoy's honor, Ron finds himself kissing Snape in the alley outside ???

It's a quick kiss, Ron couldn't tell you who initiated it or how long it went on or even if there was the briefest flicker of tongue against dry lips. What he does know is that it doesn't feel as wrong as he once might have thought.

Snape pulled away first. He smoothed his robes down and straightened his cuffs before he looked Ron in the eye and murmured, "Mister Weasley, this may go down in history as the worst idea you've ever had."

So it was Ron's idea.

"To be fair, I think I've actually had much worse ideas," he replied, with a quick smile. Ron's hands were shaking and he hoped Snape couldn't see them. He took a deep breath and said, "For example, the time I decided to dress up as a …"

Snape raised an eyebrow and turned to walk away. At the end of the alley, he stopped and looked back at Ron. "I trust this won't happen again."

Maybe it's the fact that his hands are still trembling or that he doesn't really this is the worst idea he's ever had but Ron shrugs and says, "I'm a good businessman and good businessmen don't give promises they don't intend to keep."

Snape looked startled and Ron chose that moment to Apparate back to his flat.

+

A Neville/Luna ficlet that might actually be done.

When they're twenty-seven, Neville and Luna move in together. It's a mutual decision, spurred on by their friends, all of whom have babies crawling around their houses and can't understand why Neville and Luna aren't procreating at the same rate as them. While neither one of them wants children (this was established early on in their relationship after a pregnancy scare), Neville thinks there might be something nice about waking up to Luna every morning.

The first fight is over where to live. Neville wants to be close to his job at a research firm in London while Luna prefers the guest cottage behind her father's house. Eventually they settle on a flat halfway between the two but not without shouting and slammed doors.

The second fight, which is never really resolved, happens two days after they move into the flat. It's a Monday evening and Neville is absolutely knackered from squeezing in lab time between meetings and reports. He opens the front door, looking forward to spending a night at home with Luna, and is greeted by a baby thestral.

That's also the night he makes the rule that Luna's not bring home any pets without talking to him first. Eventually, he has to modify the rule so that Luna's not allowed to bring anything home without checking with him first. Every time she has to ask, she's angry and sullen for days afterward. Neville can't blame her but he's also pretty fond of his home and doesn't want to see it ripped apart by baby dragons or angry trolls.

Almost six months to the day after they move in, Luna gets an owl from ... They're having a lie-in when it comes, silently reading the Prophet and the Quibbler side-by side, not touching. The owl drops the envelope on her lap. She opens it and says nothing as she reads it. After a few minutes, Neville looks over and catches Luna with such an intense look of longing that he loses his breath.

She catches him looking at her and crumples up with the paper. He pulls it from her hands, unfolds it, and reads it for himself. It's an offer from a magazine to travel around the world for a year, looking for mythical creatures in Vancouver, Tahiti, Malaysia, and anywhere else she can think of. It's the opportunity of a lifetime and she'd be a fool not to take it. He tells her so and she reminds him that she'd be gone for a year.

Neville smiles sadly and tells her that he'd rather she travel around the world, coming back to him occasionally instead continuing on this path where they'll end up not speaking to each other in another six months. It's really for the best, he knows that. It turns out that Neville's rather set in his ways, and he doesn't understand why other people don't have his ways.

Harry and Ron drag him out to the pub one night after Luna leaves. Neville tries to explain to them why he's okay and how this is really for the best but they both stare at him like he's crazy. Harry opens his mouth to say something, closes it, and turns to Ron and asks about the new baby.

It continues like this for years. He is her resting place and she is his center. He can't imagine a world where he doesn't love her.

When Neville's offered the position at Hogwarts, she's the first person he owls. He moves into his suite a week before the term starts and sets aside two drawers and half of his closet for her. It doesn't feel like home until he's unpacked her tea cup and set his wards to allow her. Two nights later, he wakes up and she's there beside him, curled into the crook of his arm like it's the only place in the world that fits her.

Some nights, when Neville is lonely and misses Luna's hand grasping his, he lets himself think about a time in the future, maybe fifty years or so, when they'll both be ready to settle down with each other. He's willing to wait that long and he knows that so is she.

+

Here's an SGA AU set to 'First Five Times' by Stars where John and Rodney meet in a graduate program of some kind.

The first time, in your backyard/Underneath the plastic sheeting/Outside, it was pouring/And we were drunk as shit

i. The first time John meets Rodney, it's at the graduate student orientation on the first day of grad school. John's sitting against the back wall, staring out at the window, when Rodney barges his way into the conference room. Everyone turns to look at him, including John. At the front of the room, the dean stops his speech.

Rodney says, "I'm late because I was busy" and then sits down.

The dean clears his throat. "Thank you for joining us, Mr. McKay."

"Doctor," Rodney corrects. "Remember, this is my second Ph.D. And yes, this orientation is pointless."

"How could I forget?" The dean's got a tight smile on his face and John smirks. This McKay guy is someone he wants to know.

At the welcome barbeque later that week, John grabs himself two beers from the keg and wanders around the building until he finds Rodney's lab. Rodney's sitting at his computer, cursing at the screen, when John walks up to him.

"Hey, McKay."

Rodney jumps and turns around. "Who are you?"

John hands over one of the beers and says, "John Sheppard. First year student, I'm working with Rodgers."

"Theoretical math is bullshit." Rodney takes the beer and turns back to his computer. "Thanks."

+

1. Tom/Jon fic that has a plot based on 'Good Man' by Josh Ritter.

thought about the first time that i met you, all those glances that we stole
5o4 plan, jon joins in 2003, jon is 17, tom is 19
Break up in early 2004

By the time Jon joins 5O4, he's received a few blowjobs, gone down on Missy Black, and even dry-humped Missy with both of their pants off. All of this has been with a girl though, so the first time Tom winks at him in rehearsal, Jon's mouth goes dry, his palms start sweating, and something he's never felt before flares up in his belly.

A week later, Tom drags Jon back to his apartment under the guise of bonding by watching shitty horror movies. Jon's barely surprised when Tom trips and falls into his lap on the way back from the bathroom.

"Oops," Tom says, "I fell."

"So you did." Jon's voice cracks on the last syllable and he curses puberty once again for embarrassing him during a crucial moment. Tom wriggles further into his lap, derailing Jon's train of thought.

"I'm just gonna stay here, okay?" Tom wriggles once more and brushes up against Jon's dick.

i love to sing along with you, we got tunes we kicked around
Jon joins in fall of 2005
TAI tour w/ panic feb 1, 2006 – april 2006

we both had dry spells, hard times in bad lands, i'm a good man
Jon in panic may 18th 2006. tai on warped tour june 2006,
june 6, 2006 panic tours

Jon trying to fit into Panic and Tom leaving TAI. Lonely but not alone

i was twisting in the hairpin, my hands held on my mind let go
Tom out, sept 25, 2006-october 23, 2006
joined panic around nov 7, 2006 for nothing rhymes with circus tour in ft lauderdale

The first three nights that Tom's on tour with them, he and Jon drink so much that Jon's liver threatens to walk off the job. The fourth night, Tom kneels in front of the fridge and says, "There's no beer."

"Yep," Jon agrees.

"Are we getting any?"

"Nope."

Tom closes the fridge and looks at Jon. "Why not?"

"C'mon, Tom," Jon says. "You know you can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Getting drunk every night."

Tom slams his palm against the countertop. "Fuck you, man. You're not the one who just got kicked out of his band. You can lecture me in a few months when these guys decide you're too whatever. Until then, don't start."

"Tom," Jon says patiently. "They weren't your band, not really. They were a bunch of guys that you used to have fun playing with. You were miserable at the end of the last tour. "

Tom rubs his hands over his face and stops, leaving his hands covering his eyes for a few minutes. When he speaks again, his voice is clear. "I hate it where you're right."

"Me too," Jon jokes. "Listen, when you're ready, start your own band, write music you like, have fun playing. Just do me a favor and don't romanticize this shit."

"Jonny," Tom flops on the couch, "I can't handle a world where smarter and more insightful than me. At least I'm still better looking."

"That's not what your mom said last night."

Tom flips him off and Jon laughs then looks away, out the window. He's got no idea what

you're not a good shot but I'm worse, and there's so much where we ain't been yet
recording and now?

2. The time when Tom accidentally gets engaged. I seriously think this is plagiarized from my life but I don't remember how.

Jon's not expecting much he opens his email on Wednesday morning; maybe some spam, a forward from his mom, and maybe a message from Cassie with an update on Clover. All of those things are in his inbox plus an e-mail from TheKnot.Com. Jon stares at the subject line Tom and Melissa's Wedding dumbfounded for a few minutes before he clicks on the message.

The actual email says something about going to theknot.com to view Tom and Melissa's wedding website to see their registry and view their pictures. Jon doesn't pay too much to message, just clicks on the link, convinced that some fan of Tom's is completely crazy. When a picture of Tom and his ex-girlfriend comes up on his screen, Jon's mouth drops open and he reaches blindly for his phone. He hits the shortcut for Tom's number and listens to it ring while he chants, "Pick up, fucker."

After four rings, Tom finally picks up and mumbles, "What the fuck, Jon?"

"Did you know that Melissa has gone completely nuts?" Jon was never a big fan of Melissa, he thought she was a little controlling and she was always trying to change Tom. When Tom had mentioned that they broke up a few months ago, Jon hadn't exactly cheered but he was happy to hear it.

"What are you talking about? I talked to her last night, she sounded fine."

"She made up some wedding website for the two of you. It's really freaky."

Tom doesn't say anything for a few minutes and Jon swallows. "Tom, she's crazy, right? You guys aren't engaged, are you?"

"Fuck," Tom exhales.

"Thomas Conrad, what did you do?"

"Oh man, I was home last night and I decided to have some Jager. And I called Melissa because I was lonely. And…"

"And what?" Jon pushes.

"Maybe I said we should get married?" Tom asks slowly.

"Oh my fucking Christ, you're not kidding, are you?" Jon's always been Tom's biggest supporter. People say Tom needs to grow up, needs to mature, accept some responsibility, and Jon is always the one to step to his defense. This time, however, Jon's having a hard time thinking of anything that could make this better.

"Shit, my mom's on the other line. I bet she got that e-mail too. I'll call you later." Tom hangs up without waiting for Jon's agreement and Jon closes his phone. He shakes his head and heads for the shower. Tom will end the engagement today and they'll laugh about this the next time they see each other.

+

By the time Jon meets up with the guys for dinner, he hasn't heard back from Tom yet and he's starting to get worried. He checks his phone obsessively during dinner until Spencer clears his throat and asks, "Are you expecting a call, Jon?"

Jon looks up from his missed calls list which is still saying that he hasn't missed any calls. Brendon, Spencer, and Ryan are all staring at him with varying expressions. Spencer looks annoyed, Ryan's maintaining his default boredom expression, and Brendon's waiting.

"I'm just waiting for Tom to call, clear some stuff up. No worries." For some reason, Jon's reluctant to tell them about Tom's latest screw up.

"Tom drank too much last night, called Melissa, and now they're engaged." Jon mumbles.

"Dumbass," Ryan snorts and Spencer nods in agreement.

Brendon tilts his head and scrunches up his eyebrows before he says, "That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"What? I think you mean stupid," Jon corrects him.

"No, I mean sad. Seriously, not only is Tom drinking Jager at home alone, he's calling up his ex. Then, somehow, they get engaged."

By the time Brendon's finished up his little speech, Spencer and Ryan are nodding along. Jon still doesn't see it though. He still thinks Tom is a dumbass.

After dinner, Jon calls Tom again.

Tom picks up, and before Jon can say anything, he says, "Uh, so I'm engaged."

+

"Seriously, dude, what the fuck is your problem? You liked Melissa just fine when we were dating." Tom yells.

"First of all I didn't like her," Jon snaps, "I thought she was pain in the ass. Second, I had just kind of assumed that since Cassie and I broke up, maybe you and I were going to, you know."

"No, Jon, I don't know," Tom says flatly.

"You know."

They don't speak for a week and it sucks. Jon spends a lot of time hanging out with Brendon and trying not to wring his neck. Brendon can be a pretty insightful guy with lots of good advice but he can also be a real jerk.

His phone rings on Friday morning and Jon picks it up without looking at the caller ID. "Yep?"

"Hey man," Tom says.

"Uh, hey." Jon's not really sure what to say.

"So listen, I broke up with Melissa and I'm kind of not welcome in certain parts of Chicago right now. I was thinking maybe I could come to Vegas for a few weeks and not worry about someone beating me up in a dark alley."

+

I think I was going to do this Felicity AU for broadcastbandom. Here's the cast list I would have used for both.

Felicity – Alex
Ben – Ryland
Noel – Gerard
Meghan – Vicky T
Sean – Gabe
Elena – Frank
Avery – Nate
Tracey – Jamia
Richard – Ray
Javier – Brian?
Samuel - Bob
Julie – Greta
Hannah – Eliza
Zoe – Lyn Z
Noel's brother – Mikey, Pete is his boyfriend

This is the first attempt at it.

October 200_

Nate, what's up? You were totally right, NYC =/= Gainesville. It's better. Everything's kind of normal here. Greta's trying to talk me into dressing up for Halloween but I doubt it. It's not my thing, you know?

Ryland says hi, btw. He asked me if I still talked to you and I said yes. He thought that was cool. It's weird, I've been helping him study for the past few weeks and it's not awkward or anything.

Speaking of awkward, the roommate situation still blows. God, she's so crazy. Thankfully, Gerard, the RA I told you about last time, lets me hang in his room whenever I need to.

Later,
Alex

Alex stares Gerard while he works. At the floor meeting at the beginning of the year, Gerard talked a little bit about how he almost flunked out of college his freshman year because he was drinking too much. He says that's what made him become an RA, he wants to save the lives of wayward freshmen. Looking at him now, Alex has a hard time believing any of that. He looks happy and healthy.

…

Brian walks into Dean & DeLuca one day, looks at Alex and Ryland, and says, "Bob and I are getting hitched."

Alex and Ryland look at each other before Alex looks back to Brian and says, "Congratulations?"

"Thanks man," Brian grins, "it took some convincing on my part but he finally came around."

Alex has actually only met Bob once. He's a tall guy, blond and kind of scary. When Brian introduced them, Bob looked Alex over before turning back to Brian and asking if Alex was the one who came from Florida for a guy. Brian nodded yes and Bob said, "That's cool."

"When's the big day?" Ryland asks.

Brian flips through the mail as he says, "Hmm? Oh three weeks from Saturday. You guys are coming, right?"

Ryland makes bug eyes at Alex and doesn't actually respond to Brian's question. Brian looks up expectantly and Alex says, "Totally."

"Awesome." Brian wanders in the direction of his office.

And here's the second attempt at it. I think we can all agree it's a good thing I gave this AU up.

Alex wakes up because someone's snoring. Alex cracks his eyes open and closes them almost immediately. That is definitely Gerard who is naked and asleep next to him. Alex can feel himself edging towards a panic attack. Why would he sleep with Gerard the night before Gerard's supposed to marry Lyn? What kind of an asshole does that?

Alex takes a few deep breathes until he feels calm again. Then he opens his eyes, sits up and nudges Gerard who rolls over and smiles at him.

"Hey," Gerard says softly.

"What are you doing here?" Alex asks.

Gerard stares at him. "You came up here. I was here already."

"We didn't…" Alex flaps his hand at Gerard, "you know, did we?"

"Alex, we're both naked on a rooftop. What do you think we did?"

"Fuck!!" Alex jumps up and starts putting his clothes on. "I am such an asshole. You're getting married tomorrow. Oh my god, do you think Lyn-Z's going to come up here?"

"Who's Lyn-Z?" Gerard asks.

Alex doesn't answer because he's already slammed his way through the door and is heading down the stairs. There's no one in the loft when Alex lets himself through the door and he breathes a sigh of relief. With any luck, he can get in and out. Just as he finds his bag, the front door opens and Ryland comes in.

"Hey, I'm glad you're here," Ryland says.

"Why aren't you at a hotel?" Alex replies.

"Because I live here." Ryland holds up his keys. "Anyways, I'm really sorry that I yelled at you about the printer. I know I shouldn't take out my stress on you and I know it's not your fault. Are we cool?"

Before Alex can answer, Gerard walks in. His eyes widen when he sees Ryland.

Ryland turns around and sees Gerard. "Hey Gee, what's up?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I was just sitting up on the roof, by myself, thinking alone thoughts." Gerard is possibly the worst liar ever.

And that's the moment it all clicks, and Alex remembers that he's done this before. Alex realizes Victoria's spell worked.

"Fuck!" Alex swears. "I gotta talk to Victoria."

"Are we ever going to talk?" Ryland calls out as Alex runs out of the loft.

Through some stroke of luck, the trains are running on time and he makes it back to the dorms in record time. As he lets himself into his old dorm, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair is long again and it's jarring to see it that way after keeping it short for so long.

Outside Victoria's room, Alex takes a deep breath and opens the door. She's sleeping in the bed and Alex almost feels bad about waking her up, almost.

"Victoria," he hisses, "Victoria."

Victoria mumbles and Alex shakes her shoulder and keeps saying her name.

"Oh my god, Alex, I'm going to kill you." Victoria mumbles.

"The spell worked."

"The only spell I care about right now is one that might shut you up."

"I don't know why I asked you to make this spell and spend me back." Alex paces the room. "I mean, come on. Why did I think I could fix anything? And why did I tell you to send me back to the night that I slept with Gerard?"

Victoria sits straight up. "Hang on, you slept with Gerard?"

"You sent me back in time." Alex repeats.

"The sex was that good, really?" Victoria frowns. "I didn't think Gerard had it in him."

"Don't you remember? I was in town for Gerard's wedding and I was sad because of Ryland and Krista. You asked me what I would do differently and I said I would pick Gerard over Ryland and now here I am."

Victoria laughs, "Oh my sweet jesus, you are so fucking insane. How did I not know this about you? PS, nice hickey."

Alex's barely processed Victoria's words when the light comes on and Frank walks in the room.

"What are you guys doing?" Frank asks.

"Alex is crazy," Victoria announces.

"Frank?" Alex stares at him. He hasn't seen Frank in almost a year, not counting Frank's funeral, and seeing him now is like getting punched in the stomach. "You're here."

Frank's eating an Oreo and he stops licking the cream to ask, "Where the fuck else would I be?"

"How are you?"

"Well, I'm marrying Jamia in two days and I'd like to sleep a little so I don't fall down at the altar. But that's a little hard to do with you and Vicky-T in here, shrieking like it's a middle-school slumber party."

Alex nods. "That's right! You and Jamia were going to get married."

"Were going?" Frank asks shortly.

Victoria says, "Go to bed, Frank. Ignore Alex, he had an extra helping of crazy at dinner tonight."

Frank turns to walk out of the room and Alex says, "Hang on, Frank. There's a lot we need to talk about."

"We can talk tomorrow, Alex." Franks replies as he walks out of the room.

After Alex hears Frank's door shut, he turns to Victoria and says, "Frank's dead."

"Dead, engaged, it's all the same thing. Although, Ryland's probably going to kill Gerard once he finds out about you and Gerard."

"Whatever." Alex shrugs.

"Whatever?" Victoria asks incredulously. "You never would have said that before. Are you getting back with Gerard?"

"That's the whole reason I came back. I have to try, I have to know."

Victoria claps her hands in delight. "This is going to be so awesome!"

+

Gerard shows up at Alex's dorm the next day.

"Hey," he says when Alex answers the door. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. You were acting a little crazy last night."

"I'm great," Alex says.

Gerard squints at him before he asks, "Did I give you a hickey?"

Alex rubs his neck before he waves his hand. "It's fine."

"What if Ryland sees it?" Gerard asks.

Alex cuts him off and says, "Yeah, I'm going to tell Ryland about us."

"Why?" Gerard's eyes bug out. It's really not a good look for him.

"Because he'd find out anyway."

Gerard sits down on Alex's bed and drops his head into his hands. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes. Alex sits down next to him and is about to ask Gerard if he's okay when Gerard lifts his head up.

"You do remember that I live with Ryland, right?"

"I know it's complicated, Gerard. I'm not an idiot. You just need to trust me on this though. No matter what, things between you and Ryland will get ugly. I just think it's better if I'm honest with him about it." Alex smiles at Gerard.

Gerard sighs, shakes his head and stands up. "I don't agree but it's your decision. Just promise me you'll think about it some more."

Alex pushes himself off the bed. "I will."

They hug goodbye and Alex walks Gerard to the door. After he closes the door (Some crap here about feelings and making the right decision, etc.)

+

Alex tries the loft first on the off chance that Ryland's studying and has his phone turned off. He lifts his fist to knock but before he can, Gabe opens the door.

"What's up, Alex?" Gabe says as he shrugs on his coat.

"I'm looking for Ryland." Alex scans the loft, looking for signs of life.

"Not here. Leave a note, okay? I have to go get the favors for the wedding." Gabe moonwalks down the hall.

Alex rolls his eyes and closes the door. There's a notepad on the fridge and Alex grabs it and starts writing a message to Ryland to call Alex when he gets it. While he's in the middle of writing, the phone rings but Alex doesn't pick it up. He's trying to finish the note and get out as quickly as possible.

After Gabe's message, a woman's voice fills the room. "Hey Ryland, it's Elisha from the summer program. Haven't heard from you in awhile and I was just calling to see how you were doing. Give me a call when you get this. Bye."

Alex huffs his breath and rolls his eyes. Why the fuck is he so worried about Ryland? Apparently, Ryland isn't that worried about him.

Break-up scene

Talks to Gerard

Talk briefly about other stuff.

Gerard dies, Alex starts trying to go back.

Ends with Alex back and deciding not to go to med school. He and Ryland form Ivy League.

Alex stares Gerard while he works. At the floor meeting at the beginning of the year, Gerard talked a little bit about how he almost flunked out of college his freshman year because he was drinking too much. He says that's what made him become an RA, he wants to save the lives of wayward freshmen. Looking at him now, Alex has a hard time believing any of that. He looks happy and healthy.

doot doot!

secrethappiness — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 18:55:01 GMT

Happy New Year, LJ. I am currently entranced in the 10 hour Private Practice marathon on SoapNet. So delicious.

I hope you all have a good 2009. If you're looking for a good way to start off the year, can I recommend popoffacork? I haven't been able to read them all but I have read the fic written for me and it's gorgeous. It's Alex/Ryland, a magical realism AU, and it's not something I would have ever thought to ask for but I love it. So go read it.

Merry We Are
When Ryland stops playing, Alex stays unmoving for a long time before he forces himself to attend to his work again. This is how it was all over again, when he realized he had to leave his safe and comfortable position at that kitchen to follow Ryland around the country. This is it again, because Ryland makes him want to follow the music too much to do anything else. He thought he'd grown accustomed enough, but perhaps it was just a callous like the ones he's gotten on his fingers, and now Ryland's playing a different instrument and he's touching fresh skin.