Shuffle and Repeat
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So kinda firstly, I really suck with keeping up with any stories I ever write huh?
Two of them, I've given up on.
I don't think I ever felt really excited about writing them in the first place, I just wanted something to write, but then of course I got bored. I've been working on something new, and I think it's great. Haha, I'm so biased. I have a lovely wonderful BETA, Star, and with her help my first part is done(whihc actually, isn't a lot, because there's like 15 parts). But it's something a bit different, and easy to work. The PostSecret one got so hard to write. Or maybe it was me being lazy, hey ho, I might pick it up again.
But I have been messing around on photoshop, and I've gotten to gripe with it a little better. I see an improvement anyway, my other ones...left a lot to be desired?
Hahaha.
Soo, icons, ava, my "atempts" at making half decent ones.

[9] Agyness Deyn
[2] Patrick Stump
[21] Panic At the Disco

Teaser;


(  I am your guilty pleasure... Collapse )

This is dedicated to anyone who's ever sent in a PostSecret. =]
So this is longer than normal. And it took me a little longer to do. But enjoy, hope you like it, I'll try and get another up tonight. :D

Chapter Two.

Brendon pottered about the kitchen, sliding from one side of counters to the other, his sock clad feet skidding on the tiles floor. He let out a giggle and wiped his hand on a towel. It was half past six, and Ryan was due off work any minute, it was a Tuesday, Brendon's night to cook. He grabbed the wooden spoon that was resting atop the pan lid that was over the heat simmering, lifting it up with one hand, the lid in another and gave it a stir. A he scooped some of the contents and slurped it up, as Ryan walked in and announced his arrival with his usual shout of “Home!” from the hallway. Brendon was just pulling the spoon out of his mouth as Ryan walked in, looking a little worse for wear and sat on one of the the stools under the breakfast bench. Brendon smiled smiled wide and dribbled onto his shirt, two big red splotches that he tried to rub off, but just smeared into his white shirt.
“Ops...” he said as he tore off to go change it, socks sliding on the floor once again. Ryan just laughed.
“What's for dinner?”Red. Something very definitely, staining red.
“Soup!” Brendon called from the laundry room, furiously scrubbing at the stains, brow creased a look of concentration on his handsome face.

Ryan stood with his back to the rest of the room and lounge, washing the dishes and pots from dinner. Brendon was sat at the table, books spread in front of him, head down facing looking at the book in front of him, leaning to left, his hand holding the side of his face, pen twirling between his fingers. Musical Theory was what he was flicking through, reading through his past notes and just freaking out. He was convinced he wasn't doing well enough. Ryan had just laughed it off, and walked away, only to come back later, to a frantic house mate, books spread out around him, shuffling through notes and “oh my god Ryan where's my notebook?”.
Brendon was always staying in, and it bothered Ryan, he never saw him leave to study with friends, he never saw him bring anyone over to hang out with. The only places he saw Brendon, were their apartment, the library, school or Spencer and Jon's. Unless Brendon was feeling like calling in on Ryan at work, or following him around. And you know, if he was honest, he kinda felt sorry for the other boy. He didn't mind him being around so much, he just felt like he was holding him back, or that Brendon was holding himself back a bit. He should have friends, he should be out enjoying himself, or at least studying with someone who knew what he was rambling on about. Ryan could only help him so much, and seeing his friend alone so much bothered him.

It had been another hour and Brendon was still hunched over books, highlighting words and writing out notes, answering questions from textbooks and sighing loudly. Ryan leaned his head over the side of the couch and looked up at Brendon from his upside down position.
“I'm booooooooored Brendon...” he whined. He'd spent his day doing nothing, and now he was spending his evening doing nothing. But that's not why he was trying to distract his friend. He was spending too long, pouring himself over his school books. It was making him tense and apprehensive about classes, and Ryan knew Brendon was panicking for no good reason. Brendon looked up from his text book with tired eyes and straightened his back, smiled briefly and let it fall.
“I need to study Ry.” Liar. Liar liar liar.
“You really, really don't. Come on Brendon...” He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, checking the time. It was only eight.
“No.” He snapped. Picking up another textbook and highlighter and going over some words, reading through some text. Ryan stood up wand walked over to him, pulling the book out of reach. Brendon made noise to protest and tried to snatch it back, but Ryan held it at arms length, so the other boy had no way to get it.
“At least have a break.” He tried to reason...
“Just a quick one then.” Brendon sighed, exhausted and defeated.

They were sat together, this time with Ryan's super long legs nestled in Brendon's lap, it was some old TV re-run, and Brendon had been complaining that he needed to get back to what he'd been doing, Ryan had been haggling with him for just five more minutes for the past twenty minutes. He was growing bored of whatever they were watching, now sitting through the commercials, as the PostSecret montage came on.
“The Book! Lets read it again Bren! We didn't get anywhere last time.” Brendon just looked at him with lazy eyes and nodded. Ryan stood and bounded off to find his book, returning quickly with the book in his hands, sitting himself down in the immediate space next to his best friend. Snapping the cover open, and flicking to where'd they got, he turned to the next page and saw the past two hours of his life staring back at him.
“9,898 students and I've never felt more alone.” Brendon reached to try and turn the page, but Ryan slammed the book shut angrily.
“You never go out.” He accused, turning to his friend.
“What?!” Brendon yelped, “Yes I do! I go to Spencer's, and to the music store, I-” he started rambling, hands moving around animatedly, becoming flustered, Ryan cut in,
“I mean with anyone from your classes” He frowned, mouth turned down, his forehead creased. He'd heard Brendon talk about his school life, and some days Ryan stopped by to see him, having lunch or just for something to pass the time until they both had to get back to work. But never, not once had Brendon ever mentioned going for lunch with a peer, or gone out to someone else's god damn apartment, than Spencer or Jon's. And unless it was some well kept secret, that Brendon didn't want to Ryan to know, then Brendon wasn't making friends. After two years, he still hadn't gotten to know anybody and it made Ryan upset and angry, and concerned and just really, really flushed.
“They,” he started, “do not count. You've know them for years.” Ryan narrowed his eyes, Brendon wasn't going to give him the answer he was looking for.
“Why don't you have any friends?” his voice was low, lower than it needed to be. Brendon's mouth was agape, his arms flailing as he spoke.
“I DO!” he squeaked and fidgeted in his seat, constantly moving moving moving, “You! And Spencer...an-and Jon! Don't forget Jon-” he stuttered. Ryan registered that maybe, just maybe, he was being out of hand about this whole situation. That maybe he was adding more pressure to Brendon's already stressed out life, but as soon it flashed into his mind, it was quickly abolished by more questions, more things he wanted to know.
“You should make more friends at school.” Brendon sighed at his friend exasperatedly, thinking that Ryan sounded like his mother used to a little. Shaking his head Brendon started,
“I don't want to-” but Ryan cut in again, talking almost yelling over him.
“You're holding you're self back!” he said it with accusation, and Brendon's dark orbs brimmed with hot angry, hurt tears. He stood up quickly,
“I am not!” it was low, and whisper like, he took a ragged breath and lost his composure, screaming at Ryan. He hated yelling, but he hated Ryan yelling at him even more.
“Do you have any idea what it's like? How horrible it is for me?!” His eyes grew wider and he was viciously biting back the acid and tears that were crawling up his throat.
“I've never, ever felt more alone than when I walk into that place” Ryan was sorry now. So sorry, sorry sorry Brendon. But it was too late now, he had seen the tears in Brendon's eyes, and heard the hurt in his voice, and inside he was screaming at himself for doing this, and urging himself to make everyone ok.
“Brendon I-” he what? He was sorry? He didn't mean to? But he couldn't carry on because Brendon already was.
“NO! They hate me you know! All of them! They fucking hate me Ryan, and I just...just...” he just ran. His eyes brimmed over, and he let out a little sob, his heart clenched painfully in his chest, so he ran and hid himself away from Ryan. Ryan who followed him solemn faced and sat down against the foot of Brendon's door and closed his eyes and listened to his friend cry. Ryan who looked at his watch hours later and saw it was well past midnight, so he stood up shakily and knocked gently on the door between sniffles.
“Bren...Brendon, I'm sorry. So sorry...just try and get some sleep ok? I want you to try and sleep. We can talk tomorrow...” There was a sniff and rustle of sheets.
“Night night Ry.” a soft child's whisper.
“Sweet dreams.”

Wow. I'm actually getting somewhere. I wrote this and I'm posting it, at around the same time as last night. It's 11pm, and I'm super duper tired. Haha.
I know the ending is cheesy, but I couldn't help it. And the almost there, but not really song lyric referance, just tops the cheese. Oh well. Enjoy enjoy. I like this one. The secret it's about really struck me. : D

Oh! In the last once, I noticed a few mistakes. This is un beta-ed. I did have an offer from someone, but I lost her email address. So, yeah, if anyone would like to have a go I'd appreciate it so so much.

Chapter One.

Ryan loved the smell of new books, he loved the feel of them even more. Glossy and crisp, the spin cracked a little bit when he opened it flat out across their laps. Ink and that tingling new book smell assaulted their nostrils, as Brendon smoothed his hand over the page and held it down. Their eyes flicked across the forward, lifting the next page and letting it fall. They moved on to where the secrets started, soft eyes and soft smiles. Brendon must have opened a window near the sofa earlier because a light breeze washed itself over the two boys, bringing with it a spring scent that mingled with the air. Already, Ryan was admiring the artwork, the thought and care put into the postcards, and they were only on the first page. Brendon mumbled softly as he read, giggling at the word sex, and picture of a man in underwear, but his eyes grew wide at the one below it.
“For some reason, I know I will die young...and it scares me a little bit.” He looked up at Ryan sideways and gave him a hesitantly,
“Ok then...” he said swiftly, moving his hand over Ryan's and turning the page quickly. The next one wasn't incredibly eye-catching, but it was beautiful in it's own way, they all were, but it stuck them both the most it seemed. It took up a full page, and absent mindedly, Ryan imagined that that's what it did for them. Took up a full page of their mid, a permanent place in their thoughts. He read it out loud;
“I hate this town, but I'm so afraid to leave.” Nudging the book into Brendon's lap, twisting around to face him, just like earlier, only they were much, much closer together now. He took a quick sip out of his cup, drink swiftly cooling. Dangling it from the tips of his fingers and putting it down again. Leaning forward on an elbow, nose almost tickled by the dark locks of hair on his friends head as the boy turned around to him and mirrored his position.
“Do you ever think about leaving?” Brendon's dark eyes flickered over his face, his face was serious, but not too solemn, back hunched, head rested on two cupped palms. He had to look up slightly to meet the others eyes, it looked like he was thinking, but then he just shrugged. Half-hearted and lazy, a roll upwards, before slumping back down, jostling his head a little in the process.
“Come on Bren...” Ryan rolled his eyes at the lack of answer. He wanted to know. Brendon scrunched his face up and leaned backwards against the arm of the couch, lifting his arms above his head, taking his shirt up a little. Ryan darted his eyes downwards to the visible line of stomach and then darted them back up again.
“Maybe sometimes. Yeah, sometimes. But that's all I do, think about it.” He said, almost bitterly, the words left a nasty taste in his mouth slightly, he bit it back, and slumped downwards getting comfy. Curling his legs up beside him, letting his head rest at an angle on the back of the sofa looking out at Ryan, sideways, from his big brown orbs.
“Are you too scared to leave?” Ryan stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles, reaching over with grabby hands pulling Brendon's own pair across his lap and settling his hands on top of the, fiddling with a piece of string on the bottom of the hem of his jeans. Brendon scoffed, and turned it into a laugh with a well placed look from Ryan, wriggling his feet around.
“No. No. I just don't want to.” He stressed the want, and said the whole sentence with meaning.
“And anyway” he said, “What about you Ryan Ross. What about you?” he smirked, and Ryan was sure Brendon had stolen it from him, it just screamed out; Ryan. His gaze dropped to the sock clad feet dangling over his thigh gently moving up and down in a child like manner. The tight stone grey-ish black jeans that bunched a little at the ankles. He rubbed up Brendon legs.
“Maybe sometimes” he teased, “but not very often. I'm happy with things. I don't mind much.” he thought to himself, that no, he didn't mind much. But that was only because Brendon was here. Sure, he had his job, this shared apartment, but this...this shared, thing, between the two of them. This was home to Ryan, sat here, doing this, his hand rubbing up and down on Brendon's leg. This is what Really kept him here, he wouldn't really mind otherwise. Not really, not honestly.
“You don't mind much?” Brendon scoffed, and Ryan whacked his leg. A whimper and a pout and an apology.
“So what makes you so happy?” he smiled, and looked over at Ryan, crossing his arms over his stomach. Ryan just smiled back, smirked almost.
“You ask too many questions” he said, picking up the TV remote, and flicking the channel. They settled into a comfortable silence, laughing at whatever show was being aired, the book lay next to Brendon's coffee cup on the floor both of them forgotten for now.

It was a few hours later, much darker and colder but the two boys were still in the same place as before, just being themselves and just being together. Brendon yawned, and announced it was bedtime, after a soft nudge from Ryan in acceptance. And stood and stretched up, turning of the TV and pulling Ryan up by the hand, both of them sleepy leaning against each other.
“Anyway” Brendon said, his voice low and tired “This'll always be home you know? Even if I left. I think...I think that I'd always find my way back home. Ryan just giggled and nudged him forward, turning the light out behind them.

Ok, so here we go. New story I'm starting. Wowee. Yippee. Go me.
I know I started another, but what with having exams, etc etc. I just didn't have the time to get out another chapter, and now if I'm honest, I don't even remember what I wanted to write. Like, at all. I'm so terrible.
This idea came to me recently, I've always, always loved Post Secret. And this hit me as maybe a more original twist on a plot line. Maybe I'm wrong. But we can see.
This is the first chapter, or the prologue. Yes, lets go for a porlogue. I was thinking each chapter here-after can be named after the secret the boys are reading. You'll see what I mean (if I get that far, lets have faith) when I update with a new bit.
So,

Post Me a Secret

Ryan had spent the day drinking coffee browsing the shelves of an old book store close to his apartment. His escape had brought him back down to earth a little, it was just him and the dusted books, the bright new ones, pages and pages and pages. Wandering around the floor to ceiling bookcase, coffee in one hand, a paperback in the other, his head tilted to the side, he spies a new display. He spots the title of the book and it stirs a feeling of recognition inside of him. So he picks one up to examine and decides on it. It might make his day a little bit more interesting.
He remembers seeing some kind of montage for this book on the TV, or maybe it was his computer. He likes the idea of it, and imagines what it would feel like to open it up and find a little bit of himself in there one day. He didn't have to work today, which was a blessing. It was a warm Friday, and Ryan was glad of it, he worked in a music store very close by. It seemed his world was spread out in one neighbourhood. Not that he minded. He liked his long weekends, he liked the time to himself.
He wandered out of the small painted door, and walked past the vast window display, hearing the bell on the door frame tinkle as it shut softly. It was a breezy, lazy day, and Ryan pulled his sunglasses on. Bag of books tucked in one arm, and two drinks cups held in a paper bag in the other. His slow strides dragged him through the spring time air. He loved this time of year in Vegas. It wasn't the scorching hot desert weather, it was just fine for him. In his pocket his phone trilled, and vibrated against his leg. He didn't bother look at it, he knew who it was, and what it meant. His footsteps fell a little faster as he made himself self hurry a little more towards his home. It didn't take him long, he literally lived around the corner.
A nod to the door man, and a “Good Afternoon”, he leaned against the wall of the elevator and pressed six. Watching the numbers climb, he shifted his weight to his other foot, raising his head as the doors opened, and stepping out. The sixth floor. Ryan's medium apartment was located here. Along with two others. One with a quite old dear in it, and other that was soon to be occupied. He liked his home. He liked his building. He liked his life. Some people dream big, and let themselves become suffocated by their lives. Ryan was just...Ryan. He let things happen when they did. As long as he was happy with the way things were going, he didn't mind.
He pulled out his keys with the shiny glittery key chain that always made him smile deep down inside, and made him feel slightly domesticated. He unlocked the door and shifted inside backwards, balancing the book bag and trying to keep the drinks upright.
“Home!” he called out into the sunlight living area. Kicking off his shoes and leaving them with the mingled other pairs scattered on the floor near the door. He knew he'd fall over them later, he always did. But that was later.
He dumped his books onto the kitchen table and pulled out his drink, and the second. Shuffling over to the couch he plonked down next to the dark haired boy and crossed his legs, sitting sideways, nudging his shoulder. He received a bright smile. Wide eyes and teeth and just happiness. Brendon had finished his classes for the day, and this is what they did. Every Friday. This was them, this is how things went down in their shared living space. Ryanandbrendon, Brendonandryan. Best friends and maybe just a little more. It was the maybe just a little more, that made Ryan wish on every 11:11, and every star he could spot in the sky. When he blew a dandelion, and when he saw Brendon's eyes light up like they were now.
“Hey” he said, handing over the second cup, and moving around a bit to look at their TV. It was old comedy re-runs. Taking a sip of his drink Brendon turned back too.
“Hi.” he said from behind his cup lid.
“So...how was your day...?” This was what Brandon had been waiting. He grinned and sat up a little straighter and leaned backwards facing Ryan full on. Spouting out whatever came to mind, a complete play by play of his day. Filled with “and you never guess what...” and a million “and then he said...”. It made Ryan smile like a tool, but neither of them minded too much.
And when Brendon had finished, now sitting with he legs crossed at his ankles his elbows resting atop his knees, curled around himself and several cushion, he asked about Ryan's day. Which is when he suddenly remembered, and pulled his blue bag over from the table, at a stretch, and into his lap, dumping the contents. Plopping the paperback on the floor at the foot of his seat, he turned the second book around, and showed it to Brendon, his eyes popping over the top of the hardback cover. Brendon giggled,
“I've always wanted to read that.” and Ryan smiled, because now they could together. And if he was really honest, he'd been eyeing it up for a while, whenever he saw the adverts, it was only recently, his book store had stocked it.
“Budge in” he insisted, and moved to the middle of the soft blue cushions. Brendon moved his body in, and the book rested on the tops of both of their thighs. Pulling the front cover back, his eyes scanned the brightly coloured inner page. “My secret: a Postsecret book”. Next to him Brendon giggled again.
“It makes me feel fourteen.”

So I did a Joncer one. And I hadn't seen a peterick one yet. And I couldn't help myself. This ones are a bit weird actually. They deffinately differ from the other ones I did. I hope you enjoy. They aren't beta-ed. I did have a lovely, amazing offer from a very kind girl to beta some stuff for me. But I didn't want to bother her with a small thing like this. Although I'll be taking her up on her very kind offer (if it still stands, and she doesn't mind of course) in the future. I've got some ideas. So yep. 10 song drabbles about my second favourite pairing. Enjoy I guess!.


Promt
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

1.When I'm 64 - the beatles

Patrick knew Pete was a romantic, but really, it was getting beyond ridiculous. He was currently walking around in his boxers scattering rose petals on the floor, chasing after two excited puppies. Patrick shuffled forward and huffed in his seat looking at the list in his hands.
"You could knit a sweater by the fire side..."
Fat chance. He watched his boyfriend run around after his dog yelling and waving his arms. Patrick signed and looked down at his list again
"Mine for evermore..."
Patrick thought he liked the idea of the two of them spending the rest of their lives together. Laughing at the antics on display and stood up and stretched, reaching his out his arm to wrap around a warm body as it ran past, pulling Pete in kissing his cheek.
"I can't knit."

2. Pain - Jimmy eat world.

His mouth tasted bitter and he wondered if this was what death felt like. His eyes stung and he chest ached with a longing his body would never be able to extinguish again. Never. Because Patrick was gone, he'd left, and Pete was alone, oh so alone. And everywhere he looked he saw what he was missing. There were pictures and belongings, his home had never felt so clammy. He wondered if this was the end of Fall Out Boy, or just the end of himself. You don't know what you have until you lose it. It's true you know, Pete had never realised just how much of himself he put into Patrick.
He wondered what would take this pain away, and all he could come up with was Patrick. He had no idea what to do, he had no idea how to quit Patrick. He didn't want to, he just wanted everything to be normal again. His chest seized up and his eyes blurred, he slumped against the nearest wall, shaking hands bunched in an old hoodie that reeked of Patrick. It was the middle of the night, and the lights were out. Pete had never been so afraid.

3.Emily - from first to last

Love songs aren't always sweet. Most of them are bitter and tangy, hurtful and acidic. Most of the time love was hard, like a bad Shakespearian play, a tale as old as time, and just as angst ridden. Patrick wasn't sure what he was doing, but here they were, under the covers, wrapped around each other, as one but only in the dark. Pete said Patrick made him feel safe, and this is what Patrick liked best. Hot air and warm skin.
"You're everything in the world to me"
He loved Pete so much that it hurt, and he thought that this is what heaven and hell felt like. At the same time, hot searing lips, and soft loving touches.

5. with a little help from my friends - the Beatles.

They were laying on the floor of their shared tour bus, tangled together, smiling, eyes closed. Patrick was singing goofy songs with the radio. It was an old classic station, it was the music Patrick knew best.
"Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love."
Pete giggled, and pulled Patrick to his feet. Clasped hands and sock covered feet shuffled across carpeted floors, twirling and dancing as the music grew louder. Or was it Patrick's voice? Somewhere along the the way Pete had joined in too. They twirled and swirled and barely noticed where they were heading as they travelled around the bus in a mash of body parts, stumbling through the door as it opened to the shocked faces of the other half of Fall Out Boy, just as Patrick belted out the last lines of the song into the ears of his band mates. High pitched giggles, and a mound of bodies tumbled to the floor as the song switched and warm hands pulled Pete to his feet.

6. Divine intervention – Taking Back Sunday

Unrequited love was underrated, Patrick thought as he stood at the back of a sweaty club and watched Pete fuck some kid in the crowd with his eyes, whilst he prattled about on stage. He thought of how close the crowd was packed together and how god-damn warm these places always seemed to be. Patrick wanted to push himself into the middle of the crowd and lose himself in the music. He wanted Pete to look at him like the kid that had caught his attention. He needed a break, but he needed to carry on. He didn't know which was he was being pulled more.
He wondered what it meant when Pete was constantly hanging himself off of Patrick, or clinging to his side. Kissing his neck, holding his hand, hugging him close, and just filling himself up on Patrickpatrickpatrick. It was a timeless question, but it made Patrick so tired. This shitty clubs with the shitty scene kids were draining the life out of him, because he just didn't feel like he belonged.
So Patrick pulled the brim of his hat down and looked at his feet, his fingers holding the peek and shading his face. He never saw the looks of love and longing sent his way from the stage...

7. Watch Me Bleed – Scary kids scaring kids. ( I admit I played this twice, I just love this song, and I had this in mind as soon as it came on, but the time limit was short, so I kinda cheated a little bit.)

When you find yourself in one of those moments you feel you could have just pulled from a movie, and your heart is beating so slowly, and yet so fast, you can hear it, feel it in your throat, and you swear, you swear if anyone was close enough they'd hear it too.
There's the four am. phone calls, a soft voice on the other end, and you'd stay up all night just to talk if you had to. You wait and wait until you hear a soft even breathing on the other end, then you curl yourself up with your phone and just listen, it's like he's here with you lulling you to sleep, and not a world away in his own mind.
They stopped for a while, and you found the insomnia contagious. But you'd never ever risk calling him at such an hour. His sleeping patterns are bad enough without a weary best friend who isn't strong enough to carry himself. So you do what you're used to, only this time it's first hand, and you wait it out. Or you try.
But then one night, it's not a phone call that breaks you apart, it's a knock on your door. A knock from a million miles away, but so loud it echoes around your empty house. You suddenly have your arms full of a sobbing wreck, but you've never felt more stable before. This is where you belong. This is what you were made for.
While he breaks, you live. You feel everything that is sobbed to you, and you watch him bleed his emotions out. Salted tears stain your shirt, and the night never felt so warm, so bitter sweet. You get a strange feeling of home, and whisper quietly into air and arms and shaking shoulders. The night is filled with gasp and sobs and a thousand “I love you”'s.

8. Getting Enough – Lil' Chris (I physically slumped at this. Haha.)

Patrick has sat and watched Pete invest himself into a person, only for it to go utterly balls up. Literally. And then there he was, late night movies and hugs and “I'll always be here.”
He watched Pete go through endless relationships, while Patrick was more reserved himself. Tenderly, gently shifting himself into a relationship. Only one or two. They never really worked and it seemed everyone but Pete knew why. So he just sat and watched his best friend put so much of himself into person after person. A sea of endless faces. Pete trying, desperately to hang onto something. But all that he seemed to be able to hold onto was Patrick. Patrick who had a firm hold of him. Always.
So you know, like a awkward teenage dance, or a first kiss, grabby hands held on tightly and whispered hotly
“You're enough Patrick. More than enough, you're perfect for me. Please...”

9. Teenage Queen – Aiden ( I know I took this completely out of context, but It sprang to mind, and I couldn't resist. At all, and you know, I might have cheated. By pressing play twice. Or maybe you know...three times.)
Shuffling through the hallway and out towards their bedroom Patrick scratched the back of his head, and pulled his cap off to smooth out his hair. He reached the cream white door and nudged it open. He scrunched his face and his walked in sideways and slung his hat onto the soft love seat. Looking around casually, and stopping dead in his tracks. Eyes wide and mouth even wider.
“Oh my fucking god...”
Pete. Pete god damn Wentz. And oh, Patrick thought, he was going to have a heart attack. He couldn't take any more. His life, was over.
Pete in a blonde wig, A bright pink Dress. Sloppy lipstick, and high heels. The stupid flowers from their dinning table slung over his hand as his over waved like a monarch and he pretended to sob, his face screwed up in Prom Queen Beauty.
“What the fuck, do you fucking think you're fucking doing Wentz?” Pete's head snapped to the side to look at Patrick with wide scared eyes.
“Um....” He shimmied sideways, and rubbed the dress down. And all Patrick could think was “oh god...this is not happening”.
“I'm being...a prom queen” He announced, slightly, quietly. Pointing to the plastic crown on top of his head. A...prom queen. Ok. He could deal with that. But only just.
And then Patrick got an amazing idea. He leered at Pete and took a suggestive step forwards.
“Do you know what comes after prom Pete?”
“Um...” A shift, flowers were dropped and arms wrapped around waists.
“The after party, and every Queen needs a King...”

10. A Little Less Sixteen Candles a Little More Touch Me – FOB (I know this doesn't exactly go with the lyrics, but I made myself giggle a bit...)

Joe laughed, poking Patrick in the shoulder and watching him wince, and then laughed some more. Patrick didn't see the funny side, wishing his friend would just shut the hell up and leave him alone. His neck hurt. A lot. A scowl set on his face.
“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick Stump.” and carried on laughing.
Dragging himself up and out of the room, still with a frown he stood in front of a mirror and cursed.
“Fucking Pete...” There were nasty, bright bites marks all along the right side of his neck from Pete. Pete with his stupid ideas and one track mind.

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.



1 Heartbeats - The Knife

Spencer was not having a good day. He was boarded up in the bus, knees tucked under him tapping away on his laptop trying to pass the time. He was tired of everybody, but he also wondered where they were, and why they weren't here, taking away his boredom. He missed them, but his mood was just plain bitchy. It was a bad day through and through, he just needed someone to make it better. He clicked open some pages and looked around some sites for a while, checked his emails, looked at the clock. Checked them again.
Sighing he leaned backwards his head falling over the back of the sofa. He rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans and closed his eyes.
"Hey Spencer. Spencer, Spencer Smith...." He smiled. And he felt the bad day fade away.
"Hey Jon..." He sat up, and un-curled himself and shut the laptop. A warm heat joined him on the seat. A soft kiss was placed to the side of his mouth.
"I want to make your day better..."

2 California - Phantom Planet.

They drove down the highway, windows open, hot Vegas air whipping against their hair. Ryan was wearing his ridiculous girls sunglasses, and he was up front, body mashed as close to Brendons as he could, while the other boy was driving. Spencer lifted his arm and rested across the top of the seat. Smiling, he moved his other arm and ran his hand through the tousled locks on Jon's head.
"Hey..." Jon yawned and snuggled himself closer into Spencers lap. Spencers heart leaped and he smiled happily.
"How you feeling?"
"Perfect."

3. Rollercoaster - Kimya Dawson (this is only a 60 second song, but it's so short and lovely I couldn't bare to press skip)

The simple melody Jon strummed and the soft deep hum of his voice lulled over Spencer who just sat and watched, and listened. He smilled lightly as the humming grew louder. Jon looked up and smiled, reaching over to peck Spencers lips.


4. I bet you look good on the dancefloor - Artic Monkeys

Jon had had enough of poorly lit parties and alcohol and every fucking face he'd ever seen mulling around him, because of course, this was where the party was at. He was sick of the songs that were being played, even if some of them were good. Even if some of them got people dancing, and he liked to watch that. He liked to watch Spencer dance. He was thinking over ways of leaving while he sat alone in the booth the band had once occupied, who knew where they were now? He was feeling bitter and he just wanted to fucking leave. That was until a fast beat came on, and a smiling Spencer ran up to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him forward to dance.
"Jon Jon Jon...dance with me...please..." Jon couldn't smell beer on him. He hadn't even seen spencer touch the stuff tonight...
"Ok."

5. 23 - Jimmy Eat World.

Jon thought of soft guitar tunes and lonely nights. He thought of days and days spent touring. Weeks and months even. Sometimes they dragged into years. He knew that he was happy when he was with his friends. He knew it. He tried to remember that not everbody thought of the road as home. Or maybe it was the people he was around? After all, home is where the heart is. He thought about it, an awful lot, at his house, crawled ontop of his roof through an open window staring at the stars. He wondered if they were brighter in Vegas.
He couldn't help himself, he really couldn't. Not when he threw himself onto a plane and thought "fuck it." It was two in the morning, and he felt...fluterry. His chest was tingling, and his mind raced, the only thing he could decipher was; home.
He felt stupid as he rang the doorbell, wondering just "what the fuck are you playing at Walker?". He knew that maybe he'd taken it a step far, but he was just so unhappy. It was still early, and he wondered if anybody would answer the door. A lock shifted, as did Jons bodyweight, side to side, stomach clenched, nervous.
But then there he was, wearing sweats and an old shirt, hand stuck in his hair, his sleepy eyes blinking at the light, and at Jon.
"Jon...? Jon what are you doing here?" Oh Spencer. Spencer. He was here, finally he was here, and Jon felt happy. Happier than he had before, everything fell into place.
"I've come home" he mumbled aginst soft lips, as he stepped into open, welcome arms. He'd finally come home.

6. Radio nowhere - Bruce Springstein.

Sweat poured from him as he swiped his hair back as best he could. They were almost at the end of their set, and the lights were blinding. But they were playing good tonight, really good and the crowd loved it. Brendon loved it even more though, the attention and the awe, the look in Ryans eyes when he caught them.
Spencer played and played and he played some more, pounding his heart out. He didn't pay attention to anyone else than the man in front of him. His eyes wandered as he watched him move around. And then suddenly they were finished and Spencer was so tired as he dragged himself from behind his kit, behind the curtains and into a chair in the room the band had taken over. And Jon was there with him too, hands sweaty, breath warm.
"You were amazing tonight." Soft and low, clasping at Spencer, just feeling him as Spencer did the same.



7. Sea of love - cat power ( I really, really recommend you listen to this song. It's brilliant, and the mental imagery you get from it is just so...summer romance... I love summer.)



Jons hands were grabby as he pulled Spencer with him, both of them laughing, through tall grass. The meadow was brilliant, gorgeous, the sun beating down on them. He pulled him down, Spencer gently craddled against his chest. His voice a soft rumble as Jon talked and talked.
"The first tine we met..." Spencers eyes closed softly his smile gentle as he snuggled his head against Jon. Their hands entwinded. He made a soft humming noise, he just felt content, everywhere, happiness.
"I love you."

8. When you were young - the killers

Everyone has their idea of a perfect romance when they were a child. Spencer had never dwelled on it, but he had lived in his head for as long as he could remember. He was holding out, waiting, keeping himself for someone special. He didn't know why, but he knew he should.
And then one day, he knew his wait was over, Ryan brought a guy back, who sat and sang disney songs with Brendon, and
talked to Spencer with manners and smiles. So Spencer stopped waiting, and he stopped holding himself in, because there he was, there was Jon. And Jon was everything. Spencer felt like he could breathe again.
Jon had found him, and Spencer was finally free, it was everything Spencer had imagined;
"You can stop waiting for me now, I'm right here with you."

9. Move along - The all american rejects

Jon had messed things up in the past, bad relationships, bad decisions, bad decisions he made with relationships. He dwelled on them and thought about it all too much. He thought about how he'd never been truly happy, he'd never felt an equal posession. He just wanted to belong to someone, and have someone take care of him. He wanted to hand himself over, and just give everything up.
Sometimes he felt dead inside, but then Spencer came along, and brightened his days, but he kept dwelling, and thinking and wanting to know what was happening. He moved on, and changed his mind and got on with things. But really he just wanted to be loved.
He found himself in smiles and twinkling eyes. He found the asnwers and he found what he had been looking for, so he let go. He stopped thinking about the past and moved on. He moved onto something bigger and better and found Spencer. And in Spencer he got everything he needed, the love the attention. The soft hands and small smiles. Jon belonged to someone who belonged to him just as equally.

10. Warm me up - The audition

At first it had just been a good fuck. Something to keep out the cold and the lonlieness, something to keep them both grounded. That's all. And at first Spencer repeated that as his mantra.
But then he found himself thinking of Jon constantly, he imgained them doing things together, laughing at the same things. He'd hear something, laugh and imediatly want to tell Jon, to share it with him. And thats when Spencer knew he was in trouble. He was scared, he'd fucked up badly, and he didn't know what to do.
So late one night after being holled up in his bunk, he emerged for a drink, only to run into jon. Jon with his hungry eyes, and soft hands. His soft hands that were everywhere and anywhere, just all over Spencer; his hair his arms, his hips. With grabby hands and shaking legs Spencer pulled back, and stuttered. He wanted this, he needed Jon, so badly, but he needed more. More than this...and he was afraid.
Jon leaned forward, and pressed his lips carefully to Spencers,
"I don't want to go a day without you."




So yep. there we go. As usual un-beta-ed (I really am searching)
Let me know what you think. I had fun doing this. =]

8 panic at the disco [:
Teasers:


( you remind me of a few of my famous friends...Collapse )