turps | (no subject)

James is on early shift which means getting up an hour earlier than I'm used to. Meh, I say. MEH!

So I was sitting, listening to Kerrang and enjoying the sunshine and thought to myself, you know what I love? ( which was silly because asking myself questions is redundant because it's not like I don't know the answers ) People writing me stuff. I debated just asking and being greedy, but really, that's not nice. So, let's switch it around.

Give me a pairing and one word prompt and I'll write a sentence. Maybe a few. Then if you like you can add onto it in reply, or someone else can hijack the thread and add a few sentences. Or nobody does and it just ends there, it's all good. Any fandom goes as long as I actually know it.

Really it's just an excuse for thinking about pretty people and situations, which is perfect for a sunny afternoon.

Also, it's been so great reading Cobra reports, I'm so glad people had a good time.

ETA: Something's come up. So I can't add any more right now, but please. Keep adding yourselves. It's just what I need right now.

ETA2: Am back, and man, there's an ass baby, a hermaphrodite alien, a trickc, trickyfish, Bob/Gerard, Chris/Brendon and Waycest threads going on. I love you guys so much.

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Trickyfish, exasperated.

look Karey, someone posted a meme that needs a prompt! *smirks*

ok, since this drawing a blank... what's the proper response here?

I knew you'd scroll down and figure it out. :D

And I know you'll scroll down and see that I did indeed have the appropriate response.

Hope it works for you :)

~*~*~*~

The magazine collides against the wall, pages fluttering in its descent. Lance scowls, pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down at his desk, scattered pens and an upended glass, says, words clipped. "Once. Just once can't they say my name without gay being included?"

Chris steps close, wraps his arms around Lance's shoulder and says nothing. Aware Lance already knows the answer.

"Hey, at least ..." Chris started to say, but Lance squeezes Chris' hand, and Chris lets the self-depreciating remark Lance knows was coming fade into silence. At least they don't call him old, washed up, desperate. He doesn't need to hear any of those undeserved insults coming from Chris' lips, no matter how often Chris says he doesn't care what they say.

Wary of Lance's reaction, Chris pitches his voice low. "It's not completely their fault."

Lance sighs. If there's anything he hates more than his name seeming to have changed to Lance Look How Fucking Gay I Am Bass it's that he's at least 50 percent responsible for it being that way. "I really thought they'd get over it." And he had. Several people far more currently famous than he had stepped right out of the closet right behind Lance, but Lance was the one they were gunning for.

"I know. You have to give them time. And," Chris paused, hands paused mid comforting stroke, "possibly something else to put after your name."

and now you have two threads for this one comment. Poor Terri.