First Lines Meme
Quick Notes: Those of you who participated in the Virgin Meme, I swear I am getting to those. Should be later this week, promise.
There was some confusion about this meme, which asked for three to five of the first lines of writer's fics. (I totes understand, b/c, just ask harborshore, I had to edit my requests three times due misunderstandings.) In some cases I got more than a first line--in those cases, fair warning, I only took the first line, because, honestly, it's WAY harder to work with more than that, and I am a lazy girl.
Another small note, sorry: I didn't read any of the fics--purposely--as I did not want to be influenced, so I have no idea, in most situations, what the relation of my snippet is to the original.
1. lifeasanamazon: There's a familiarity in the dark that's not always meant comfort. Not now, though.
There's a familiarity in the dark that's not always meant comfort. Not now, though. Now, in this place far away from everything, CJ wishes the line between the unknown and an adventure weren’t quite so indecipherable.
She reminds herself that she is a grown woman, and has all but run a country and is here as a guest of some Very Important People. None of this makes the darkness of the African night any less dark, nor the sounds in that darkness any more familiar.
It would be nice to call someone-anyone, really. Well, possibly not Danny, who’s been to Rwanda and Zimbabwe and Uganda and probably wouldn’t make fun of her at this moment, but would save it up for when she got home. Donna, maybe, or Karen-they would both have good updates about people she knew and only ask the kinds of questions she wanted to answer.
Instead she breathes deeply and thinks about the places she had been shown since her arrival. She reviews the conversations she’s had and starts to consider where the best place to start might be. She knows one thing-when they build the roads, this country is going to need a few streetlights. Not too many, though, in truth. She might not be all that comfortable in the dark, but she feels certain that its connection to this place need be honored, like so many of the other things she does not yet understand.
2. jedusaur: When Gerard descends into the basement, he doesn't intend to stay there for a week.
When Gerard descends into the basement, he doesn't intend to stay there for a week. He doesn’t really even know it’s been a week until Mikey comes down, looks around and sighs. “Mom has got to stop enabling you.”
“Hi,” Gerard says, chewing on the end of one of his paint brushes. There’s something wrong with the blue he’s been using, that’s the problem.
“Gee,” Mikey says insistently.
Gerard makes himself focus. “You need something, Mikes?”
Mikey looks at the canvas and then back at Gerard. After a minute he says, “Ray’s coming over. Take a break, okay? We’ve got stuff for s’mores and Ray has evidently managed to get more than one fire going in a fireplace in his life without burning anything down.”
Gerard does really like s’mores. He looks back over at His Project. The ache to stay there, to keep working until he gets it right is a draw, but Mikey’s still sitting there, looking hopeful. He asks, “Can we do the s’mores with Crunch bars?”
Mikey smiles a little. “Yeah, that can be arranged.”
3. elucreh: Brendon's mom used to say she knew she was in love when his dad filled her soul with music.
Brendon's mom used to say she knew she was in love when his dad filled her soul with music. It was a beautiful sentiment, so Brendon felt kind of terrible that it was how he knew he was completely fucked the first time he met Spencer and Ryan. He told himself for a while that he was just taking her metaphor too literally-they were playing music, but he knew the truth. His first time falling in love and it wasn’t with just one dude (and really, wouldn’t that have been enough?) but two. Brendon’s life sucked.
But Brendon didn’t even know how it would be possible to watch Ryan pass his fingers over the strings and bitch about the fact that nobody read anymore and not want to kiss away the discontent. For that matter, how anyone could see Spencer pretending not to smile at Ryan’s grumpiness and not want that smile for himself, well, it was a mystery to Brendon.
So, yes, Brendon was totally in over his head, but on the plus side, they hadn’t kicked him out of the band yet. He could work with that. He had started with less.
4. dancinbutterfly: People inside John Janick State Correctional Facility have reputations.
People inside John Janick State Correctional Facility have reputations. More than names or numbers, it’s how the prisoners identify each other, and how new intakes come to understand the lay of the land. When Mikey’s luck finally ran out, and the solicitation charges stuck, Gabriel Saporta’s reputation was that of a Cobra-poisonous and likely to strike at any moment.
So, of course, Mikey was assigned to share a cell with him. Within twelve hours, he’d acquired the nickname Cobra’s Kid, with a snicker attached at the end.
*
Gabriel tilted his head and considered his new roomie for a long time before saying, “Gabe. And you’re Michael.”
Mikey kept his hands by his side. Self-defensive body-language was deadly when dealing with someone who enjoyed the hunt. “Mikey.”
Gabe said, “I don’t recommend telling anyone that, but okay, I suppose it’s your death.”
Mikey frowned slightly. Gabe laughed, low and a little off-kilter, and Mikey got exactly where the rumors came from. Gabe said, “I’m guessing you were suspecting that was going to be me?”
Mikey shrugged. Gabe said, “You’re a lot less annoying than the last guy they put in here.”
It was Mikey’s turn to tilt his head. “You kill him? Or just scare him off?”
Gabe’s smile was wide and a bit manic, but not actually unfriendly. “Oh yeah. I’m gonna like you.”
The weird thing was, Mikey had a feeling he might return the sentiment.
5. saekokato: Brian never has a problem telling Bob what he wants.
Brian never has a problem telling Bob what he wants. Or, rather, Brian has never had a problem telling Bob what he wants-past tense. Because Brian is well aware he can’t say, “I kinda ditched your band, and all, but I need you to support me in this.”
Brian knows where the line between “reasonable friend request” and “douchebag” is drawn, even when it’s less than clear. (It isn’t this time.) The problem is, he’s pretty sure that if he talks to Bob, he’s going to cross that line, so he does what any reasonable man would do: stops answering Bob’s calls.
Not so secretly, Brian expected that this tactic was doomed to fail, but a man had to try, right? Not according to Bob, who showed up at Brian’s door and said, “Let me in this fucking door before I sic my dogs on you. Don’t think I haven’t trained them to eat every last piece of clothing you have ever owned, Schechter.”
Brian decided to go for oblivious. He opened the door and said, “Hey, what’s up?
Unshockingly, that approach got him punched. Shockingly, it was only in the shoulder. Still, it hurt like a mother. Brian stepped back. “Now you have to let yourself in, since I’ve lost the use of my dominant arm, shithead.”
Bob came in and closed the door behind himself. “Coffee, then talk.”
Brian sighed and followed Bob into the kitchen.
6. trcunning: Pete loved Panic!
Pete loved Panic! It wasn’t so much that their sound was life-changing or that girls were going to wet their panties over Brendon’s absurd pretense at threatening sexuality. It was mostly that every time Ryan and Brendon got on the stage, both of them looked like homeless kids who had finally found a home, or starving orphans who were being offered warm, delicious bowls of soup. Pete had watched a lot of performers at this point in his career, and it was rare (if ever) that a guy saw that kind of engagement.
And there was Spencer, too. Spencer was the one Pete found dangerous in a lot of ways, because Spencer was the kind of guy who watched after his own and would kill you and hide your body if he thought for a second that you were out to harm them. Spencer didn’t get off on performing so much as he got off on how much the other two got off on it.
Brent was something of an enigma, but Pete didn’t let it bother him too much. He suspected Spencer, Ryan and Brendon could hold the band together through sheer willpower, until one of them decided to let go. He was willing to take the gamble. At least, that was what he told himself. After all, this was business, meant to be dealt with by one’s head.
Pete had never been that good at ignoring his heart.
7. rumpleghost: Ryan knows, logically, that wandering off ten minutes before a press conference isn't a good idea.
Ryan knows, logically, that wandering off ten minutes before a press conference isn't a good idea. But also, logically, there shouldn’t be a dog wandering around the building, and Ryan is 100% sure that he just saw one limp around the corner. (Well, 99.7% sure, but Ryan likes rounding up.)
Ryan is not highly stealthy-something he has long ago come to terms with-but he must be stepping lightly enough, because when he finds the dog, it cowers in a corner, but it doesn’t try to run from him. Then again, maybe it’s just too tired to make the attempt.
Either way, Ryan sits down a decent length from it and holds out his hand, hoping that sniffing will come before biting and that if biting does come, he has fast enough reflexes to pull away. The dog is clearly somewhat reluctant about either tactic, but eventually it takes the bait and puts its nose close to Ryan’s fingers. Ryan waits until he has been thoroughly sniffed out to run his finger lightly over the dog’s ear. The dog whimpers, but stays where it is.
Ryan’s making slow progress when Z comes around the corner saying, “I was sent on a Ross-hunting mission, what the hell are you-- Oh.”
Ryan looks up. The dog doesn’t have tags and when it moved toward him it was clearly favoring its hind left leg. Z takes a moment to consider the situation and says, “I’ll ask around, see if it belongs to anyone.”
Ryan nods reluctantly and stands. She kisses him. “Go do your interview.”
“If nobody-“
“He’s yours,” she says, that time without hesitation, or a warning that she’s not going to take care of him, or anything that suggests she thinks he’s being stupid.
“You’re pretty,” he tells her, which is kind of their code for I-love-you, since Ryan can be linguistically challenged at certain moments.
She waves him away, but not without a smile.
8. sailorstkwrning: Brendon frowned at the row of spices, tapping his fingers at the edge of the label marked "ground cloves."
Brendon frowned at the row of spices, tapping his fingers at the edge of the label marked "ground cloves." They were expensive (all the spices were, really) and Brendon associated them with his mom’s pumpkin pie. The first made him want to buy them, now that they’d gotten the advance and he could actually afford something that wasn’t a smoothie and a day-old sandwich. The second made him want to run as far as he could.
Brendon didn’t see or hear Spencer approach, so he jumped a bit when Spencer asked, “Are we baking something?”
Spencer sounded kind of excited by the prospect. Then Ryan was there, too, with his monotone, saying, “Ooo, I vote ham!”
Brendon wasn’t sure how he knew there was an exclamation mark at the end of that iteration, but evidently he was getting used to Ryan Ross. The thought of ham made Brendon think of Christmases and, in turn, nauseated him.
Spencer said, “Or I could do this thing with oranges my mom taught me.”
“Oh, yeah, the orange thing,” Ryan said.
“Orange thing?” Brendon asked.
“You’ll like it,” Ryan told him and dropped the cloves in Brendon’s basket. “C’mon, Brent’s been waiting for like ten minutes. He has threatened to totally take the van and leave.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I hope he’d enjoy the last fifteen minutes of his life, before I caught up to him.”
Brendon laughed and started making his way to the check-out.
There was some confusion about this meme, which asked for three to five of the first lines of writer's fics. (I totes understand, b/c, just ask harborshore, I had to edit my requests three times due misunderstandings.) In some cases I got more than a first line--in those cases, fair warning, I only took the first line, because, honestly, it's WAY harder to work with more than that, and I am a lazy girl.
Another small note, sorry: I didn't read any of the fics--purposely--as I did not want to be influenced, so I have no idea, in most situations, what the relation of my snippet is to the original.
1. lifeasanamazon: There's a familiarity in the dark that's not always meant comfort. Not now, though.
There's a familiarity in the dark that's not always meant comfort. Not now, though. Now, in this place far away from everything, CJ wishes the line between the unknown and an adventure weren’t quite so indecipherable.
She reminds herself that she is a grown woman, and has all but run a country and is here as a guest of some Very Important People. None of this makes the darkness of the African night any less dark, nor the sounds in that darkness any more familiar.
It would be nice to call someone-anyone, really. Well, possibly not Danny, who’s been to Rwanda and Zimbabwe and Uganda and probably wouldn’t make fun of her at this moment, but would save it up for when she got home. Donna, maybe, or Karen-they would both have good updates about people she knew and only ask the kinds of questions she wanted to answer.
Instead she breathes deeply and thinks about the places she had been shown since her arrival. She reviews the conversations she’s had and starts to consider where the best place to start might be. She knows one thing-when they build the roads, this country is going to need a few streetlights. Not too many, though, in truth. She might not be all that comfortable in the dark, but she feels certain that its connection to this place need be honored, like so many of the other things she does not yet understand.
2. jedusaur: When Gerard descends into the basement, he doesn't intend to stay there for a week.
When Gerard descends into the basement, he doesn't intend to stay there for a week. He doesn’t really even know it’s been a week until Mikey comes down, looks around and sighs. “Mom has got to stop enabling you.”
“Hi,” Gerard says, chewing on the end of one of his paint brushes. There’s something wrong with the blue he’s been using, that’s the problem.
“Gee,” Mikey says insistently.
Gerard makes himself focus. “You need something, Mikes?”
Mikey looks at the canvas and then back at Gerard. After a minute he says, “Ray’s coming over. Take a break, okay? We’ve got stuff for s’mores and Ray has evidently managed to get more than one fire going in a fireplace in his life without burning anything down.”
Gerard does really like s’mores. He looks back over at His Project. The ache to stay there, to keep working until he gets it right is a draw, but Mikey’s still sitting there, looking hopeful. He asks, “Can we do the s’mores with Crunch bars?”
Mikey smiles a little. “Yeah, that can be arranged.”
3. elucreh: Brendon's mom used to say she knew she was in love when his dad filled her soul with music.
Brendon's mom used to say she knew she was in love when his dad filled her soul with music. It was a beautiful sentiment, so Brendon felt kind of terrible that it was how he knew he was completely fucked the first time he met Spencer and Ryan. He told himself for a while that he was just taking her metaphor too literally-they were playing music, but he knew the truth. His first time falling in love and it wasn’t with just one dude (and really, wouldn’t that have been enough?) but two. Brendon’s life sucked.
But Brendon didn’t even know how it would be possible to watch Ryan pass his fingers over the strings and bitch about the fact that nobody read anymore and not want to kiss away the discontent. For that matter, how anyone could see Spencer pretending not to smile at Ryan’s grumpiness and not want that smile for himself, well, it was a mystery to Brendon.
So, yes, Brendon was totally in over his head, but on the plus side, they hadn’t kicked him out of the band yet. He could work with that. He had started with less.
4. dancinbutterfly: People inside John Janick State Correctional Facility have reputations.
People inside John Janick State Correctional Facility have reputations. More than names or numbers, it’s how the prisoners identify each other, and how new intakes come to understand the lay of the land. When Mikey’s luck finally ran out, and the solicitation charges stuck, Gabriel Saporta’s reputation was that of a Cobra-poisonous and likely to strike at any moment.
So, of course, Mikey was assigned to share a cell with him. Within twelve hours, he’d acquired the nickname Cobra’s Kid, with a snicker attached at the end.
*
Gabriel tilted his head and considered his new roomie for a long time before saying, “Gabe. And you’re Michael.”
Mikey kept his hands by his side. Self-defensive body-language was deadly when dealing with someone who enjoyed the hunt. “Mikey.”
Gabe said, “I don’t recommend telling anyone that, but okay, I suppose it’s your death.”
Mikey frowned slightly. Gabe laughed, low and a little off-kilter, and Mikey got exactly where the rumors came from. Gabe said, “I’m guessing you were suspecting that was going to be me?”
Mikey shrugged. Gabe said, “You’re a lot less annoying than the last guy they put in here.”
It was Mikey’s turn to tilt his head. “You kill him? Or just scare him off?”
Gabe’s smile was wide and a bit manic, but not actually unfriendly. “Oh yeah. I’m gonna like you.”
The weird thing was, Mikey had a feeling he might return the sentiment.
5. saekokato: Brian never has a problem telling Bob what he wants.
Brian never has a problem telling Bob what he wants. Or, rather, Brian has never had a problem telling Bob what he wants-past tense. Because Brian is well aware he can’t say, “I kinda ditched your band, and all, but I need you to support me in this.”
Brian knows where the line between “reasonable friend request” and “douchebag” is drawn, even when it’s less than clear. (It isn’t this time.) The problem is, he’s pretty sure that if he talks to Bob, he’s going to cross that line, so he does what any reasonable man would do: stops answering Bob’s calls.
Not so secretly, Brian expected that this tactic was doomed to fail, but a man had to try, right? Not according to Bob, who showed up at Brian’s door and said, “Let me in this fucking door before I sic my dogs on you. Don’t think I haven’t trained them to eat every last piece of clothing you have ever owned, Schechter.”
Brian decided to go for oblivious. He opened the door and said, “Hey, what’s up?
Unshockingly, that approach got him punched. Shockingly, it was only in the shoulder. Still, it hurt like a mother. Brian stepped back. “Now you have to let yourself in, since I’ve lost the use of my dominant arm, shithead.”
Bob came in and closed the door behind himself. “Coffee, then talk.”
Brian sighed and followed Bob into the kitchen.
6. trcunning: Pete loved Panic!
Pete loved Panic! It wasn’t so much that their sound was life-changing or that girls were going to wet their panties over Brendon’s absurd pretense at threatening sexuality. It was mostly that every time Ryan and Brendon got on the stage, both of them looked like homeless kids who had finally found a home, or starving orphans who were being offered warm, delicious bowls of soup. Pete had watched a lot of performers at this point in his career, and it was rare (if ever) that a guy saw that kind of engagement.
And there was Spencer, too. Spencer was the one Pete found dangerous in a lot of ways, because Spencer was the kind of guy who watched after his own and would kill you and hide your body if he thought for a second that you were out to harm them. Spencer didn’t get off on performing so much as he got off on how much the other two got off on it.
Brent was something of an enigma, but Pete didn’t let it bother him too much. He suspected Spencer, Ryan and Brendon could hold the band together through sheer willpower, until one of them decided to let go. He was willing to take the gamble. At least, that was what he told himself. After all, this was business, meant to be dealt with by one’s head.
Pete had never been that good at ignoring his heart.
7. rumpleghost: Ryan knows, logically, that wandering off ten minutes before a press conference isn't a good idea.
Ryan knows, logically, that wandering off ten minutes before a press conference isn't a good idea. But also, logically, there shouldn’t be a dog wandering around the building, and Ryan is 100% sure that he just saw one limp around the corner. (Well, 99.7% sure, but Ryan likes rounding up.)
Ryan is not highly stealthy-something he has long ago come to terms with-but he must be stepping lightly enough, because when he finds the dog, it cowers in a corner, but it doesn’t try to run from him. Then again, maybe it’s just too tired to make the attempt.
Either way, Ryan sits down a decent length from it and holds out his hand, hoping that sniffing will come before biting and that if biting does come, he has fast enough reflexes to pull away. The dog is clearly somewhat reluctant about either tactic, but eventually it takes the bait and puts its nose close to Ryan’s fingers. Ryan waits until he has been thoroughly sniffed out to run his finger lightly over the dog’s ear. The dog whimpers, but stays where it is.
Ryan’s making slow progress when Z comes around the corner saying, “I was sent on a Ross-hunting mission, what the hell are you-- Oh.”
Ryan looks up. The dog doesn’t have tags and when it moved toward him it was clearly favoring its hind left leg. Z takes a moment to consider the situation and says, “I’ll ask around, see if it belongs to anyone.”
Ryan nods reluctantly and stands. She kisses him. “Go do your interview.”
“If nobody-“
“He’s yours,” she says, that time without hesitation, or a warning that she’s not going to take care of him, or anything that suggests she thinks he’s being stupid.
“You’re pretty,” he tells her, which is kind of their code for I-love-you, since Ryan can be linguistically challenged at certain moments.
She waves him away, but not without a smile.
8. sailorstkwrning: Brendon frowned at the row of spices, tapping his fingers at the edge of the label marked "ground cloves."
Brendon frowned at the row of spices, tapping his fingers at the edge of the label marked "ground cloves." They were expensive (all the spices were, really) and Brendon associated them with his mom’s pumpkin pie. The first made him want to buy them, now that they’d gotten the advance and he could actually afford something that wasn’t a smoothie and a day-old sandwich. The second made him want to run as far as he could.
Brendon didn’t see or hear Spencer approach, so he jumped a bit when Spencer asked, “Are we baking something?”
Spencer sounded kind of excited by the prospect. Then Ryan was there, too, with his monotone, saying, “Ooo, I vote ham!”
Brendon wasn’t sure how he knew there was an exclamation mark at the end of that iteration, but evidently he was getting used to Ryan Ross. The thought of ham made Brendon think of Christmases and, in turn, nauseated him.
Spencer said, “Or I could do this thing with oranges my mom taught me.”
“Oh, yeah, the orange thing,” Ryan said.
“Orange thing?” Brendon asked.
“You’ll like it,” Ryan told him and dropped the cloves in Brendon’s basket. “C’mon, Brent’s been waiting for like ten minutes. He has threatened to totally take the van and leave.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I hope he’d enjoy the last fifteen minutes of his life, before I caught up to him.”
Brendon laughed and started making his way to the check-out.