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[personal profile] labyrinth2015
From [livejournal.com profile] celli, whose answer to the world markets going apeshit is, apparently, to spread the fannish love ♥.

The first six people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.

Prompts would help. As you know, I not-so-secretly dig Marysueing, and will write character/you :)

ETA: To feed my Marysueing ways, the following kind people who played this meme with me wrote me the following:
* [livejournal.com profile] paitac's hot Suits!AU Give It A Minute It's Gone, [Charles Xavier/me/her], teen;
* [livejournal.com profile] aohatsu's adorable Harry Potter!AU Severus Snape/me; [Sirius/Remus], [Remus/her], teen; and
* [livejournal.com profile] maerhys's flagrant, delicious suns snagged on empire states, [NealFingTiemann/me], explicit :)))

Date: 2011-08-11 01:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] clionona.livejournal.com
OOH! ME! ME! OOH! MEEEEEE!!!

Cookleta please?????

*bats eyelashes at you*

Date: 2011-08-11 01:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] doctor-jehane.livejournal.com
Sure :) You can leave me a prompt, if you like!

And you need to do this too now, c'mon!

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From: [identity profile] clionona.livejournal.com - Date: 2011-08-11 01:32 am (UTC) - Expand

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From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com - Date: 2011-08-11 08:09 am (UTC) - Expand
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Cook/Archie, dancing!

Don't Hide Yourself in Regret, Cook/Archie, teen & up

Cook hadn't seen Archie in months, not since last season's Idol. He'd been consumed by the This Loud Morning press, and then there'd been the tour; he'd barely had time for his family, let alone his friends. And Arch had apparently not listened to the record, and had made a weird vlog weeks after the launch, and, okay, maybe he hadn't texted Arch in advance of the album drop but he hadn't really texted anyone.

Cook didn't think Arch was ignoring him, exactly; it wasn't like Archie to hold a grudge. Their paths just hadn't crossed, and especially now Arch had signed up with Interscape, they didn't do the same Sony and 19E parties anymore.

Which was why he was surprised to see Arch here at the NYC launch of Lady Gaga's Born This Way Ball Tour. Maybe he shouldn't have been, since Archie and Gaga were now on the same label, and now he thought about it he remembered they'd had a hugging-related run-in in Season 7. But Gaga's newest venture, Club Chola/orienT on Park Avenue, three floors of LED screen wallspace and vibrating platforms and a bar that auto-dispensed drinks like it was on the Starship Enterprise? Leather-clad men cage-dancing in giant test-tubes suspended from the ceiling? Door gift packs with fluorescent condoms and coupons for blowjob x 1, first floor Docking Port Alpha ? Not really Archie's scene.

Arch was very publicly talking to Adam Lambert, haloed in one of the lit-up, spaceship-capsule-like booths on the side of the dance floor. Cook couldn't see who else he was with.

Over the pounding music, Monty said, "Hey, isn't that --?" and at his other side, Neal said, "-- Yeah." Cook glanced at his guitar players' faces, blue and yellow and green under the changing lights; he couldn't read anything in their expressions.

"I'm gonna go over and say hi," Cook shouted, stuffing his gift pack into his pants pocket with some difficulty. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like Neal rolled his eyes.

He shouldered his way through the throng to Arch and Adam. They looked up and saw him coming; Adam broke into a broad grin, and reached out around the capsule-table to bear-hug him.

"David! It's been ages, you look great! Have you met Sauli?"

"No? Hi, heard so much about you!" Cook said, trying to politely shake Adam's boyfriend's hand while not-obviously eyeing up Archie.

Arch was standing off to the side. When he saw Cook looking over he made a little wave. Was it just him, or was Archie's smile a fraction hesitant? Cook couldn't tell whether he wanted to be hugged or not.

Whatever it was, Arch looked good: tight dark shirt, dark trousers, hair artfully mussed. Older, somehow, since they'd last seen each other.

Cook settled for sliding over and clapping him on the shoulder. Damn, Arch even felt older; more solid, like he'd been seriously hitting the weights. "It's great to see you," he said. "How're things with the new record?"

Arch shrugged. His smile was definitely more hesitant. "You know. Good. Still recording. How's the tour been?"

"Good," Cook said, a little numbly. Archie's offhanded manner was an unexpected weight in his chest. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Arch shrugged again. "G asked me," he said, and as if on cue, the stage lit up like a mirrorball and the concert started.

"Let's get out there!" Adam shouted and grabbed Sauli by the hand; Cook found himself holding onto Arch as the Lambert entourage squeezed onto the center of the dance floor.

It was shoulder-to-shoulder bodies out there, sweaty and excited and thrumming with electricity. The Lady was shrieking her welcome and everyone put their hands in the air and shrieked back. The wall of sound was deafening. Cook ducked under someone's chain-mail-clad fist and glanced Archie's way; the kid looked okay, and like he was actually into the scene.

The band struck up the first quick and dirty electronic notes and the backing singers poured themselves into the title track. "I love this song!" Adam yelled, and the crowd felt the same way; the random jostling became an undulating, gyrating rhythm as they screamed with one voice and started to dance as one to the same beat.
(deleted comment)

The World in My Hand, Justin Bieber/paitac

Date: 2011-08-12 06:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Commercial litigator you, bored client JBieb. I HOPE YOU BE HAPPY NOW, BB :DDDDDD

The World in My Hand, Justin Bieber/paitac, teen

He'd attempted to dress for the occasion - neat button-down checked shirt and skinny tie, sober jacket and pressed trousers - but the sober outfit couldn't contain him. He drummed his fingers on the Firm's lacquered conference table, shifted his lean body from side to side in the ergonomic Herman Miller chair. His cheek moved, like he was chewing bubblegum the color of his famous mouth.

She wanted to explain to him the classic European convention of never (ne-never) pairing a button-down check with a tie. Obviously the tie needed to come off. Or the shirt. Or -- she needed to get a grip.

His lips parted. Instead of the list of expense items she'd asked for, what emanated was, "So didja watch the Teen Choice Awards last night? My boy Usher told me Selena was there after all. Man, Scooter was right, it was good I didn't go."

Scooter was his no-nonsense agent and minder, and his absence this afternoon (apparently he had to make a charity donut run) was keenly felt in the lack of headway they'd made.

When you knock me down I will not stay on the ground.

She tightened her hold on her office-issue Pilot pen. Clearly he hadn't listened to a word she'd said for the last hour and a half. Maybe that made two of them.

"Mr..." She couldn't say it. Her co-workers kept making fun of words that rhymed with Bieber, like Mister and fever and from Matt in the engineering disputes practice group, cantilever; she just couldn't switch off the song in her hindbrain. "Justin. Really need you to work with me here. My boss is coming back in an hour and she wants me to have finished taking client instructions."

"Noproblemo," he said, easily. He leaned forward in his chair. "Can you explain the thing again? I'm sorry, I didn't get what your Ms. Tan meant, about promisors reasonably expecting forbearance on the part of promisees and being binding and stuff. And I didn't want to stop and ask her, 'cause she's kinda scary?" He held her gaze. "But you're not."

The textbook definition came easily to her, thanks to the years at law school and the Bar. She remembered the time when it didn't, though, and realized how she could explain it to him.

"How it works is this: say I promise to take my friend Jay to a Justin Bieber concert in NYC. In reliance on my promise, Jay spends money on plane tickets and a seriously rocking new outfit. If I renege later, before the concert, Jay can sue me for the cost of the things she did in reasonably relying on the promise. So, here, you might not have signed a contract with 199 Entertainment, and that's why you can't sue for breach of contract. But they undertook to promote you at the VMAs and the Russian Grammys, and your company hired all those tanks and fighter jets for the concert in reliance on that promise, before they bailed on you. That's equitable estoppel, and you can sue for that, in this state, anyway."

He frowned, and leaned further forward. He inched his fingers closer to her yellow legal pad. His lashes were longer than any girls', his eyes almost transparent.

"How rocking is this new outfit?" he enquired, at last.

She wanted to throw her hands up in the air. She wanted to kiss him senseless, or even more senseless. Never never say never.

"Let's go over this one more time," she said, firmly, and he sighed and moved his hand away.
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Date: 2011-08-12 07:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
ALSO NOW YOU HAVE TO OFFER ZIS

Date: 2011-08-11 01:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] carolion.livejournal.com
HA HA HA Okay, hmm, well the one thing I want in this world is Selena Gomez/Joey Clement just like... flirting. That's all. But if you aren't comfortable writing them or don't feel like you know enough about them to write them that's perfectly fine and my second choice would beeeee...

ME AND DAVID ARCHULETA TALKING ABOUT MR. DAVID COOK. Yes. Why we're talking about him can be up to you, and what we're discussing about him can be up to you. ;D

I Want It That Way [Selena/Joey]

Date: 2011-08-11 03:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Selena Gomez/Joey Clement flirting? I tried to make some, in between the band shenanigans! My Scene details are from wiki, so possibly inaccurate.

I want it that way, Selena/Joey, teen. Warning for BSB-related songfic :)





Joey liked playing with Dave and the other guys, really liked their electric onstage chemistry. He didn’t mind being stuck on a tour bus for weeks with them and Dave’s dog, fending off the boss man’s groupies. And being part of the Anthemic? That would’ve been pretty cool.

But the Anthemic wasn’t the Scene. And though Dave was a sweetheart, he was no Selena Gomez.

Auditioning for the Scene, she’d come with her people to hear him play at the Pitt Club in L.A., and had even braved his hometown in South Dakota by herself to watch him jam with his old band. In the low lights of Big Mike’s bar she’d been a rare brightness, surprisingly clear-eyed and unjaded. He couldn’t take his eyes off her; he must’ve hit bum notes all night.

Back in L.A. he’d forged a working relationship with the other guys who’d made it through auditions. And with their star, of course.

He didn’t let himself think that way about her. They’d always be two worlds apart, he could never hope to reach to her heart. He didn’t need to bust out in some angsty boy-band song everyone knew the lyrics to.

Then he’d clinched the bass spot with David and had to make a hard decision.

She’d given him some months to think about it. Then she called his cell on the Tour’s New Orleans leg.

“We’re hitting the studio soon,” she told him. “Still time to change your mind.”

Joey leaned against the side of the tour bus. “Told your manager, Selena, I’m still on the road with David Cook.”

“Yeah, I know.” Her voice got a little more high-pitched, like she was squinching up her nose. He remembered the gesture from Wizards of Waverley Place which he’d never admitted to watching. “It’s just, the other bassist we auditioned after you isn’t working out. I dunno what it is, he just hasn’t got your fire.”

“I’m really flattered,” and he was. He switched his cell to his other ear. “Your drummer Greg isn’t easy to keep up with, but I managed to figure out how to deal with him in the end.”

“You guys played so great together!” She was quiet for a while. He could hear her breathing, light and quick, as if she was standing right beside him.

“Please, Joey,” she said, at last. “It wouldn’t be the Scene without you.”

And that was what it took, in the end. (Dave had been professional, but Kyle told him later that Dave’d thrown a couple of things at the tour bus wall.)

When he walked into the studio later that week, they all cheered him as if he was some homecoming hero.

Selena was wearing a tiny pink tee-shirt and white jeans. Her face was scrubbed clean. He looked into her shining eyes, and it was like there was nobody else in the room.

Am I your fire, your one desire?

“Thank you for taking a chance on us,” she said.

“Didn’t wanna make a mistake,” he confessed. “And I thought I might, if I stayed away. I’m just glad it’s not too late!”

“Well!” she said. “This may not have been the easiest way to do things, but it’s okay. Not too late.”

He picked up his bass guitar and watched as her eyes lit up. It was all he could do not to break into song.

He meant it when he said, “Whatever way you want, I’m there, Sel. All you ever had to do was say.”
Edited Date: 2011-08-11 03:33 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-08-11 02:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] poppetawoppet.livejournal.com
:D :D

Cookwood!

I'd love for some straight up by the book angst. She realizes exactly what he means to her just when it's too late. (If you choose to make it happy at the end, ok, if not that's cool)
Edited Date: 2011-08-11 02:15 am (UTC)

My Goodbye to the Girl, Part 1 of 2

Date: 2011-08-18 01:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Carrie, angsting over having lost Dave

My Goodbye to the Girl, Dave/Carrie, teen,





Carrie knew about the upcoming spread in Esquire, but it was still a shock to actually see the pictures. David Cook, fresh off his Grammy win for This Loud Morning, in his new house in La Jolla, with his new fiancee, golden and laughing against rolling California hills.

"Kaley's the perfect mix of geek and jock and hot," Dave was quoted as saying. (Carrie somehow doubted the first one, seeing how the starlet's contribution to their joint interview seemed limited to giggling and such words of wisdom as, "David is so romantic!")

What Carrie couldn't deny, though, was how damn happy David looked in the pictures. Like he had everything in the world a man could want.

He never used to look like that around her.

It wasn't a pretty picture, no matter how you painted it. It looked like so many other pictures, black and blue, one or two or a thousand, and they all came down to one thing: she could have loved him, but she belonged to someone else.

He'd been golden when she met him - the newly crowned Season Seven Idol, full of life and light, wearing his emotions openly on his broad handsome face. "Carrie Underwood, the Idols' Idol!" he'd called her, grinning like a schoolboy, and she'd found herself coloring under his admiring gaze.

She'd taken him under her wing, the newbie Idol still unsure of his crown, tried to teach him to play the game and yet not lose sight of himself. In return he'd tried to teach her to play baseball and to drink Coors Light, and how family and friends could keep you grounded.

When did the gold around them rust?

The weekend after she'd finally said yes to Mike, she'd come back to L.A., tired and happy and weighed down by the new diamond on her ring finger. She'd called her closest friends to tell them. She'd hesitated before calling Dave; she'd probably known then, somewhere deep down.

"Hi! I wanted you to know before it hit the tabs, I'm engaged to be married," she had said.

"Congratulations," he'd said, finally, just one beat too slow. "You gonna move north?"

"Maybe?" That had been something she and Mike hadn't managed to agree on. "For part of the year, anyway. I'm back in L.A. in a couple'a days, let's get together."

Let's get together started with her in a bad mood after an argument with Mike so trivial she couldn't remember it anymore. He'd been cautious throughout dinner, unusually reserved, even, though she noticed he was making more free with the wine than usual, and between them they managed to polish off the bottle of Opus One that, okay, was mostly him.

"What's wrong?" she'd asked in the limo on the way home. "You've been acting weird and antsy all night."

He couldn't meet her gaze. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "With me, anyway."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Maybe she'd drunk a bit more of the Opus than she'd thought.

He shrugged. "Only that you're the one being antsy and weird, Carrie," he said, his gentle tone taking some of the edge off this.

She thought about it; couldn't deny she’d been pretty lousy company all night. Offense, the best defense. "I am so allowed to be weird and antsy. I've just gotten engaged, it's, like, pre-wedding jitters."

He looked sidelong at her. "It wouldn't be weird if you're really happy," he said quietly.

She was stung; it was one of the harshest things he'd ever said to her. "You're so gonna have to explain that, c'mon."

He put up his hands to ward her off. "Sorry. Had too much to drink. Forget it."

"I can't, dammit, tell me," she said, grabbing onto his sleeve for emphasis.

Somehow she held on while he was trying to move away and she ended up with her head on his chest against the side of the limo, staring up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her.

-> Part 2

Date: 2011-08-11 02:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lareinenoire.livejournal.com
Oooh, me!

GGK, Lions of Al-Rassan, any pairing (or threesome *hint, hint*) you like. ;)

Date: 2011-10-29 07:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
OMG, bb. It might be 2.5 months later, but finally your story is on its way :)

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Date: 2011-08-11 02:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] otherbella.livejournal.com
Sarah/Andy.

(or any of the cops&heartrobbers 'verse.)
Edited Date: 2011-08-11 02:37 am (UTC)

Make It Hurt So Good, [Andy Skib/princessleia04]

Date: 2011-08-13 02:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Part Three of Policewoman ‘verse!

Part I: Lock My Heart Away, DCook/[livejournal.com profile] doctor_jehane
Part II: The Cold Room NFTiemann/[livejournal.com profile] otherbella

Part III: Make It Hurt So Good, Andy Skib/[livejournal.com profile] princessleia04, adult

(...Meanwhile, in the other wing of the precinct...)

The lights were dim in the B Wing holding cell. It was partly to disorientate suspects when they were eventually moved to the too-bright interrogation rooms, make it more difficult for them to see straight, but also partly due to cross-department budget cuts. The whole team wasn't a fan of the cost cutting, of course, but she'd learnt to get her kicks where she could.

Case in point: Andy Skib, small arms dealer and career criminal, and the prettiest face this side of town.

That face now turned to her with a sly, winning smile.

"Any idea how much longer they'll be, Detective?"

She shrugged. She'd seen Jay with Cook in the interrogation cell, seen Bella head to the cold room where they'd had to keep Tiemann confined; she was pretty sure they'd be a while.

"Probably be some time more." His smile widened, and she said, "Don't get any ideas, Mr. Skib."

"Can't stop a man from thinking," he pointed out. He got up from the cot, handcuff rattling against the bars of the cell. "Or from looking, either."

It was suddenly, unaccountably warmer in the holding cell. "See something you like?" she enquired.

His gaze traveled slowly from her face down her body. "What can I say, I'm kind of a visionary guy."

She snorted. "If that's so, Mr. Skib, you'd see your way to telling us what we want to know."

"Thought we hadn't started the interrogation proper yet?" He took another step forward and jerked pointedly at the metal cuffing his right hand to the cell bar. "I mean, you haven't brought out the whips and chains or the big guns, even."

She gave him her best assault-with-deadly-weapons look. "That could totally be arranged."

He opened his dark eyes wide. "Uh-oh. Maybe I should talk now, before things get worse." He tugged on his collar with his free hand, exposing a span of tanned, tender neck. "If I give in to you now, could you protect me, see nothing bad happens to me?"

She took a step towards him. Under the low lights, she could see the quick pulse fluttering at the side of his throat. "You give in and I'll see nothing bad happens." She paused. "Unless you want it to, of course."

She watched him bite his lower lip. She wanted to bite it herself, to suck it into her mouth and hold him there, on the edge of pain and pleasure.

"You're in charge, Detective," he told her softly. "You can do anything to me you want. Just don't hurt me too badly."

He reached out and took hold of her wrist. He was a hair's breadth taller than she was, and much stronger.

She put her mouth against his ear; she felt him shiver like a wild horse under her hands. The metal rang out again, and she heard him groan.

"Oh, I won't hurt you, Mr. Skib. Much, anyway."

"That sounds like a promise," he murmured, and she raised her mouth blindly for his kiss.
Edited Date: 2011-08-13 02:08 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-08-11 02:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chemicalwonder.livejournal.com
I don't have to post this on my journal, right? :/

If I can still request, I'd like Cookmann. The prompt is slow dancing.

If not, just ignore this. :P :D

Date: 2011-08-11 02:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chemicalwonder.livejournal.com
Oh no, I think I'm too late. :(

And I swear I didn't see someone else asked dancing already. :P I've wanted someone to write this prompt for a long time now, it just has to be someone worthy!

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Date: 2011-08-11 02:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leici.livejournal.com
Woe, I am sloooow. Boooo.

Happy, er, what day it is there? Thursday?

Date: 2011-08-11 08:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Aw, and I missed the opportunity to write u2fic for you! But, if you had some burning prompt, I might consider it at some later stage :)

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Date: 2011-08-11 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tristantrakand.livejournal.com
I'd take part, but I am deeply insecure when it comes to my fiction writing skills, ahahahahaha

Date: 2011-08-12 07:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
Do you see that thing up there that says regardless of skill level? No fear, bb. FWIW, I bet you'd be excellent!

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Date: 2011-08-13 05:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] james-padfoot.livejournal.com
um.


[1:23:20 AM] James: I WILL AFTER BATH
[1:23:27 AM] James: AKSO I EENND MORE COOKLETA IN MY LIFE
[1:23:32 AM] Braintwinz: FORGET THE BATH. GO TO BED
[1:23:40 AM] James: OMG THE GODS ARE LISTENING
[1:23:45 AM] Braintwinz: there's a new fic
[1:23:45 AM] James I LOG INTO LJ
[1:23:47 AM] James: AND FIRST THING I SEE
[1:23:49 AM] Braintwinz: LOL
[1:23:50 AM] James: NEW FIC
[1:23:54 AM] Braintwinz: I WAS JUST GONNA TELL YOU
[1:23:56 AM] James: ITS LIKE. GOD SHIPS COOKLETA
[1:24:16 AM] Braintwinz: PSSSH EVERYONE + THE UNIVERSE SHIPS IT
[1:26:10 AM] James: OMG THERE IS A PART TWO
[1:26:12 AM] James: I WAS ABOU TO HAVE A CONNIPATION
[1:26:21 AM] James: LIKE HOW COULD SHE END IT ~THERE~
[1:27:42 AM] Braintwinz: LOL ME TOO
[1:27:50 AM] Braintwinz: OMG THIS FICCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC
[1:28:02 AM] James: IFKR. I LOVE JAY
[1:28:09 AM] James: I DOOOOOOOO I DOOOOOOOOOOOO I DOOOOOOOOO OOOH 4 POINTS IF YOU KNOW WHAT THE REF TO THAT IS
[1:28:34 AM] James: ALSO. ARCHULETA IN A CLUB. I THINK ITS MY KINK SINCE I SUBCONSCIOUSLY WROTE IT SOMETIME BACK.
[1:28:47 AM] Braintwinz: OMG I REMEMBER YOUR CLUB FIC
[1:29:01 AM] James: ALSO. GUH. LADY GODGA. AND ARCHIE. AND COOK BEING A TOTAL IDIOT BUT THEN COMPLETELY SWEET AND MSH COOK GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER AND OF COURSE ARCHIE IS SASSCHULETA HELLO
[1:29:09 AM] Braintwinz: I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T LIKE THE ENDING AND YOU CHANGED IT
[1:29:17 AM] Braintwinz: SASSCHULETA~
[1:29:26 AM] Braintwinz: SRSLY CAN SOMEONE JUST SAY THAT TO HIM
[1:29:40 AM] Braintwinz: I JUST WANT TO SEE HIS REACTION
[1:29:48 AM] James: I WOULD POSSIBLY KISS THEM
[1:30:07 AM] Braintwinz: ALSO CAN THEY JUST GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER AND GO OUT ON A DATE OR SOMETHING
[1:30:30 AM] James: MEH I'D KISS ALMOST ANYONE. EXCEPT CREEPS. AND POLITICIANS. AND UNHYGIENIC PEOPLE. AXE MURDERES ARE A NO.
[1:30:45 AM] James: BUT MOSTLY A LOT OF COOKLETA PEOPLE FOR LIKE BEING AWESOME
[1:30:48 AM] James: WHY AM I SHOUTING. WHY DO FICS MAKE ME BATSHIT CRAY. TLDR I LOVE JAY

Date: 2011-08-14 02:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
...er, So come on, now let's try it, I love you, can't deny it, 'Cause I do, I do I do I do...? No? 70s ABBA songs are lodged in my hindbrain, y'all.

And, hee, glad to make you shouty and cray, I think? ILU2! I, er, was trying to make Clio's dancing prompt, and I know she adores Gaga, and somehow this came out all The Story of Why the Boys Are So Disconnected Now (and my attempt to fix it). Sorry about the open-ended ending, but I couldn't end on smoochies; I really think Arch needs to go find himself rn, rather than be in a relationship.

Date: 2011-08-15 06:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] youkeyh.livejournal.com
If you read this you wouldn't imagine the angst that was packed into it. Its just like bam! there it is. It was seamless like that.

Really love this <3
and yeah, the current RL!Cookleta sitch is kind of :/

Date: 2011-08-16 01:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jehane-writes.livejournal.com
aw, thank you, bb. I didn't set out meaning to make angst; I wanted to make dancing grinding club fic, but somehow my stuff with the current RL!Cookleta came out. I'm glad it worked for you!

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