I'm not weird. I'm awkward

Drabble meme, aka how to procrastinate even further.

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 16:53:57 GMT

I am procrastinating life. I feel like I need to write, yet I don't want to write what I have to. Kind of. It's more complicated than that. Anyway, as to stimulate my brain and make me feel less useless? I bring you a meme.

The Alphabet Drabble Meme:
Below is a listing of the alphabet. Please comment with a letter of your choice (that has yet to be chosen), a word that starts with that letter, and a character or pairing. I will then attempt to write a blurb of some sort from the word and pairing you choose.

A - Adventure - Vampires!JuddJones - 12bear_hugs
(Abandonment - Dougie - figletofvenice)
B - Bareback - FletcherJones - drbillbongo
C - Crumble - JuddJones - star55
D - Dictionary - JuddJones - flaviap
E - Eyes - PoynterJones - stolenglancesx
F - Freedom - JuddJones - stjarna1984
G - Girlfriend - PoynterJudd - kelly96
H - Headphones - PoynterJudd - addtastic
I -
J -
K - Keys - PoynterJones - im_my_own
L - Lightning - JuddFletcherJones - figletofvenice
M -
N - Nuisance - PoynterJones - sexinabox
O - Obsession - JuddJones - theellibu
P -
Q - Questions - Footballer!JonesJudd - silverferret89
R - Rain - PoynterJudd - manuanya
S - Strings - College!PoynterJudd - kurdt105
T - Tree - Tarzan!FletcherJones - iiriz
U -
V - Volvo - PoynterJones - bumble_85
W - Waterfall - JuddJones - phrida_91
X -
Y -
Z - Zephyr - Supernatural!FletcherJudd - poetic_soul92

Please, do ask, and surprise me. Make me write weird stuff, like. Idk. Girl!Dougie/Harry or Vampire!Danny/Tom, or whatever, just. Stuff that makes my brain boil with happiness, so i can bring you the best drabbles I can!

Come on, seriously please. Do iiiiiiiitttttt. And you can pimp this around for other people to prompt me, this is unlocked. I really want to be amused and amuse you, too!

In Your Pants, cult band.

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 16:29:38 GMT

Hey, new people adding me to their flist! I am glad you do, but...can you fill this out, so we can get to know each other at least a bit? Thanks!

Also, on a totally unrelated note to this, I am so, so giggly right now.

</p>

In Your Pants Stats

Formed:	10th June 2008
Split:	23rd January 2015
Best Album:	‘Lehr Gasify Eloins Larkiest Rickety Disyokes’ 7/10 in the NME
Best Single:	‘Whimpers Prevent Alb Sextains Feint’ 8/10 in the NME (Single of the Week 24th July 2010.)
Records Sold:	1,201,708 in total (391,387 albums, 810,321 singles).
Reputation:	Cult
Groupies:	ultraviolet9a has the remarkable tendancy to come on tour more than a lifetime of roadies.
Other	According to unofficial reports approximately 1362 people died of ‘unknown causes’ whilst listening to ‘Lime Butut’.

In Your Pants Member Profiles

oh_mumble

oh_mumble seems to model themselves on James Dean but looks and sounds more like James Dean Bradfield. We suggest that oh_mumble stays off the pies and spends more time fuckin’ rehearsing!

stjarna1984</p>

Without ever being the focal point of In Your Pants’s sound, stjarna1984’s intricate stylings add depth to the bands music.

evolia

For the past couple of years evolia has struggled with a drug addiction which has been negatively affecting their bass playing skills and their showmanship. A spell in rehab could resurrect evolia’s career’

theellibu

theellibu manages to compensate for a lack of natural musical talent through a unique and constantly evolving approach to percussion.

figletofvenice

When it comes to musical theory very few surpass the knowledge of figletofvenice. In saying this figletofvenice finds it extremely difficult to compose anything of worth.

Single Releases

#	Title	Date
24	Phytonic Exequies Agnation	Jul 2008
29	Cimbalom Decerned	Sep 2008
86	Lime Butut	Dec 2008
88	Squamous Exactors Browns	Feb 2009
64	Opiated Kimonos	Apr 2010
61	Badass	Jun 2010
33	Areolae Lappers Staggard Laud Photonic	Jun 2010
22	Whimpers Prevent Alb Sextains Feint	Jul 2010
6	Spumous Ramped Tazzas Believed Bubalis Parvise	Mar 2012
8	Composed Deigning Puller Fleecy	Mar 2012
8	Slate Citrus Hiring	May 2012
5	Jiggered Brainily Rasure	Sep 2013
2	Godlier Rumaki Zeugma Pieties Furl	Nov 2013
1	Disavow Curacoas Facile Lallan Hassel Sampans	Jan 2014

Album Releases

#	Title	Date
24	Lehr Gasify Eloins Larkiest Rickety Disyokes	Jun 2008
98	Ants Aah Quanta	Jan 2010
16	Crawling Yuppies Piroques Pard Vawards Brionies	Dec 2011
N/A	Corkers Chuting Sickener Slant Libeled	Aug 2013

northern ireland’s worst

Couldn't really help myself, did it again, with Manu as our singer.

Road Trippin’ Stats

Formed:	10th June 2008
Split:	3rd December 2014
Best Album:	‘Zechin Salpa Boomlet Hobo’ 6/10 in the NME
Best Single:	‘Ageism Backfill’ 9/10 in the NME (Single of the Week 24th September 2013.)
Records Sold:	3,494,483 in total (724,842 albums, 2,769,641 singles).
Reputation:	NME band
Groupies:	According to manuanya, skyfalling sucks like an overpowered vacuum cleaner.
Other	Road Trippin’ were denied access to perform ‘Erotics Centile Pails Kotower’ on BBC1’s Top of the Pops in case it sparked a riot. It really was that bad

Road Trippin’ Member Profiles

manuanya

After a seemingly impossible amount of singing lessons, manuanya has developed a relatively reasonable singing voice.

stjarna1984

Although prone to the odd bum note onstage, stjarna1984 more than compensates for this through their cool temprament and professionalism.

evolia

In a live setting, evolia is by far the most charismatic. When both evolia and stjarna1984 are on form Road Trippin’ seem unstoppable, but admittedly this chemistry develops rarely.

oh_mumble

A number of up-and-coming bands have mentioned Road Trippin’’s drummer oh_mumble in the music weeklies, citing them as an important influence on their current sound.

theellibu

Whereas stjarna1984 and evolia are hardskinned party animals who like nothing more than to get drunk and fuck, theellibu prefers to spend their time composing melodies and working with chord progressions.

Single Releases

#	Title	Date
22	Brooks Caporals Burster Diplexer Mite	Jul 2008
17	Brogue Cabalas Fleabite Kashmirs Cams	Sep 2008
12	Papaws	Oct 2008
13	Draining Frizette Gangbang Trice Flossier Albeit	Mar 2010
18	Erotics Centile Pails Kotower	Apr 2010
17	Lenticel Byway Nonbanks Triseme Stenos	Jun 2010
20	Kissing Beclouds	Sep 2010
11	Pinons	Nov 2011
4	Acting Laths Louis Outflown Crutched	Dec 2011
5	Rimester Dextran Persuade	Jan 2012
2	Visiting Comely	May 2013
1	Ghost Defrayed Urostyle Ferocity Doggie	Jun 2013
2	Duping Unchicly Rhonchus Hydrogen Seizers	Aug 2013
1	Ageism Backfill	Sep 2013

Album Releases

#	Title	Date
36	Algins Owlishly Kabuki Snicks	Jun 2008
19	Yaups Tret Continuo Creative Unpeg Bonier	Dec 2009
13	Zechin Salpa Boomlet Hobo	Aug 2011
2	Yarest Ordines Unmoored Wretch Arranges	Apr 2013

northern ireland’s worst

I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. VON AND I? UNSTOPPABLE FUCKING CHEMISTRY, BOOHYAH.

Music Post!

Wed, 21 May 2008 19:02:26 GMT

The songs I can't quite get enough of.

Edge Of The Earth - 30 Seconds To Mars
You Won't Know - Brand New
Res Head - Brigade
Til I Hear It From You - Gin Blossoms
Broken Angel - Hanson
Southern Girl - Incubus
In My Pocket - Mandy Moore
Groovin' Slowly - John Butler Trio
Bubblewrap (Live @ Portsmouth) - McFly
Lucky - Jason Mraz (feat. Colbie Caillat)
Loving You - Paolo Nutini
Nine In The Afternoon - Panic At The Disco
Monster - The Automatic
Vegas Skies - The Cab
Nobody Moves, Nobody Gets Hurt - We Are Scientists
Nothing Compares To You - Stereophonics (Acoustic - Sinead O'Connor Cover)

Megaupload mostly, two sendspace.

Take away, and tell me what you enjoyed! Anything in return? Hmmm. Your favourite love song?

I'm setting myself a new challenge.

Fri, 09 May 2008 20:42:18 GMT

1- Make a list of stories you are currently writing/are planning to write/are procrastinating over.
2- Ask your f!list to give you as many prompts as they want for stories they want you to write (not for your own list, separate prompts for moar story writing!).
3- Choose five stories from each list (5 from your list, 5 from the list of prompts given by your f!list) and promise to finish them by the end of '08. Link back to this post every time you post one.

My list of fics in the works in my brain (I did not include the three charity fics I still have to do, because I have to do them, so.):

1. Blood On The Ground

~~2. Crossover fic~~

3. OT4 Wing/Angel!fic

4. Bookstore AU

5. Zombie apocalypse, nanobots and evacuation and cricket bats

6. Tour!fic

7. Danny-as-a-drug-addict fic

8. Space Opera/human Apocalypse AU

9. Evil!twin Harry fic

10. Even though that would probably be written with Von, a sequel for Here in my Room I'd love to do.

Okay, that's for now, I might edit this later on. NOW HIT ME WITH PROMPTS, LIKE, A TON OF THEM, REALLY, I AM NOT KIDDING YOU, DO IT, PLEASE.

Leaving this open, too, for everyone to give me prompts!

McFly MoodTheme!

Thu, 01 May 2008 18:58:00 GMT

Well, yay! It took me ages (around a month? Something like that, duh), but in the end...I did it. I did a McFly mood theme!

"Featuring Harry's mighty bum, Danny nakedness, Dougie's overall silliness, Tom's FACES, and a smoke machine."

So, as I can't really allow myself to leave my photobucket bandwith open to everyone, I made a pack with all the moods in it, and my best advice to you, if you want to use it, would to download this and follow the instructions Von found for me here!

It's very simple and thorough, so do not be afraid!

Get the images via Sendspace or via Megaupload!

If you have anything to tell me about this, please do! Also, credit me/comment me if using? That'd be awesome. I'd love to know what you think about it, I spent a lot of time on it!

Anyway, hope you enjoy it! \o/

Fic-A-Day: In Your Arms - Pudd

Tue, 25 Dec 2007 16:58:48 GMT

Title: In Your Arms
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Pudd - PoynterJudd
Genre: Really...it's like, no genre. Fluff, yeah...*grimaces*
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Summary: They rarely exchange words, in those moments.
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you.
Not beta'ed, gah.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
This was written for xxpatsy who prompted me with 'Respite', fluffy Pudd, (Check the complete list here! \o/). So here. It's short, around 600 words, but I really wanted to write my fic-a-day, had this idea brought upon me by a conversation with my gran about my ex and I, and thus, I wrote. I actually quite like it, and I hope you will enjoy it aswell.
Con-crit is welcome!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

(..confessions of devotion and forever, confessions of belonging and always..)

PoynterJudd/Standalone

A/N: So, anyone to make me a mcfly header with 'the fic-a-day challenge' on it? *grin*

Fic-A-Day: Fuck The Turkey - Flones

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 14:05:07 GMT

Title: Fuck The Turkey
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Flones - FletcherJones
Genre: Smut/Fluff
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Summary: “You need to calm down, Tom. Things are fine, stop checking them one hundred times!”
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you. Oh, and you can tell me if you can't take me posting so many fics all the time, too ^^.
Not beta'ed, gah.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
This was written for iiriz who prompted me with 'Stress', smutty Flones, (Check the complete list here! \o/). So here. Hope you enjoy reading this when back from Thailand, lovely =D
Christmas-themed, couldn't help it.
Con-crit is welcome!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

“Is the turkey ok?”

“T-”

“And the custard? You didn’t ruin the custard, right?!”

“Tom…”

“Did you hang the decoration like I asked you to?”

“Tom!”

“What?!”

In one, swift movement, you end up against the wall, an arm in the way of you breathing correctly, and you’re looking at an angry looking Danny with huge, startled eyes. You cough, motioning for the arm, to be please removed because it’s starting to hurt and you’re going to turn purple in a minute, and Danny’s look turn sheepish, as he takes his arm away, but still you’re trapped between his body and the wall and it’s not like he’s looking like he’s going to let go.

“Dan…”

“No.”

“DanDan…”

It usually always works.

“No!”

Damn.

“You need to calm down, Tom. Things are fine, stop checking them one hundred times!”

You pout, trying your best to get away from his arms, even if it’s nice and all, even if his chest is touching yours and his warmth is going straight to you. It’s all good, really, but you have a Christmas to prepare and it won’t make itself!

“Everything could go wrong…Everything has to be perfect. Murphy’s Law, you know.”

“Fuck Murphy’s Law. Nothing ever is perfect with us and that’s why it’s good.”

You can’t help but realize that’s kinda true. The gigs are never perfect as you want them to be, the parties always are screwed at some point, the tv shows are always some fucked up moments on tape for them…But they’re still there.

But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re stubborn and you hate admitting that Danny is right because of your pride and all that, so you keep squirming in his arms, but he doesn’t let go, he never really lets go, anyway. That’s what makes your relationship working the way it does, he is. You know sometimes, you’re too selfish and too stressed and too wrapped up in some petty problems that you don’t make the efforts, but he never lets go. You like to think that it’s because he loves you.

“The turkey is going to burn…”

“The turkey will be fine, Tom. You, on the other hand, are not fine, and I intend to change that.”

“I’m fine.”

His lips attach themselves to your neck and you let out a whimper, your fingers fisting in his shirt at his hips, and yeah, it’s annoying how easy he can get you going, with almost nothing like that. You wish you were stronger, but, yeah. You’re not, really, not when Danny is concerned.

“You sure?”

Words vibrate through you and you curse him inwardly, you curse yourself for being this much in love that just a few kisses in sensitive areas make you forget everything about the big Christmas party you’re preparing.

“I think you are under way too much stress for such an event, Tom…And I know the perfect way to relax you.”

You whimper, because you know exactly what he means, it’s not the first time Danny has had to ‘relax’ you, and you’re already feeling blood rush through your veins as fingers dance across your clothing, traveling down and popping open the button of your jeans in one quick motion.

Your head fall back to the wall as you close your eyes and swallow hard, feeling hands at the back of your legs and the warmth that was hovering on your torso leaves, making you whimper again. But then your pants and boxers are pushed down are warm air hits your skin as Danny breathe against your thigh.

“Dan…”

He doesn’t answer, and you just feel him take you in his mouth, hotness spreading all the way through your body as he firmly holds your hips in place, because he knows you, and that makes you smile, as you finally let some of the tension in your shoulders go. He’s a talented boy, and he can make your legs turn to jelly in five minutes with the way he twirls his tongue around the tip of your length, making you moan loudly in the kitchen.

Your fingers run through his hair as his head moves and you slip into some sort of blissful state, sitting on a cloud, because you can’t feel your muscles and you’re just ready to fall, that quickly, that simply. It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve let yourself go, and it kinda has been with everything there was to do lately.

But Danny never lets go, and you are reminded of that fact when you start muttering that you’re close, very close, and his lips stay firmly attached to you. No matter what, he doesn’t let go, and when your orgasm hits and you’re leaning against the wall, trembling, he still doesn’t let you go, he holds you in his arms and you smile, feeling more peaceful than you’ve been in days. If not months.

He kisses your cheek with a smile after the two of you tugged you back in your clothes and you turn, meeting his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him, and it sends tingles of pleasure through you.

“See, that turkey could be forgotten for fifteen minutes, Tom.”

You bring your lips back to Danny’s, eyes still closed behind your glasses.

“Fuck the turkey.”

Then your eyes open again and Danny growls desperatly.

“Oh fuck! The turkey!”

FletchJones/Standalone

Fic-A-Day: Gift Bow - Junes

Sun, 23 Dec 2007 17:50:53 GMT

Title: Gift Bow
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Junes - JuddJones
Genre: Angst
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Summary: "Happy birthday, Harry."
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you. Oh, and you can tell me if you can't take me posting so many fics all the time, too ^^.
Not beta'ed, gah.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
This was written for im_my_own (*ILU*) who prompted me with 'Now', smutty Junes, (Check the list here! It's complete! \o/). So here. I thought it was the perfect prompt, as today is Harry's birthday. So I wrote birthday smut. And that's two Junes in a row, to balance with the overload of Pudd I've been writing lately. WOOT! I hope you enjoy this, Lotta.
Con-crit is welcome!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

“Where the fuck is Danny?”

He’d been searching him for like, an hour now. He’d been there, then not. Vanished, in thin air. Had been taking shots, and then, poof, nothing. Didn’t even wish Harry a happy birthday, just disappeared. At some point in the past, he would have thought the cheeky bastard would have gone up with a chick or something, but now…Wasn’t because they weren’t public with their relationship that they weren’t in one, and surprisingly enough, Danny was more into faithfulness than Harry could have gathered.

But still, he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there as Harry blew his candles out, wasn’t there as he opened the gifts offered by his goofy friends, he just, wasn’t there anymore, and it pained Harry more than he really wanted to admit. And the fact that nobody was able to tell him where exactly his lover was kinda drew on his nerves, because Danny was loud and obnoxious and couldn’t just disappear like that, could he?!

So, apparently, a hunt was in order, for Harry. So what if everybody else was too drunk to care really where Danny had gone? They all told Harry to let it go, because Danny must be screwing someone in a bedroom, just leave it, Harry, but, no, he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t do that on his birthday, would he? No. He wouldn’t.

So he set himself to search for Danny, and started with downstairs, where the party was still in full blast, opening door after door and finding no traces of Danny. Was he abducted or something? Playing with Harry’s nerves? Hide and seek was a game Harry had always been good at, but still.

As downstairs gave nothing, he moved upstairs. Bathroom? Nothing. Guestroom? Nothing. Bedroom?

“Oh my. Fucking God.”

There were candles, lined on the furniture, flickering softly in the room and casting a yellow hue over every piece of dark wood Harry chose to furnish his room. There was low music playing in the background, a song he couldn’t recognize but he couldn’t really care less, as he closed the door behind him and leant against it, eyes trained on the bed, amazed, dumbfounded, whatever.

“What if someone else came to find you?”

“I knew you’d be the only one. The others probably think I’m busy screwing a bird.”

He was there, lying on the bed, looking absolutely flawless, in all his naked glory, skin glowing in the light of the candles, freckles standing out so much Harry had the urge to count them all, to get there and spend the rest of his lifetime counting them. And when Danny smiled, tugging lightly on the huge red bow he had tied around his neck, Harry almost moaned.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

He crooked a finger, beckoning him over, and Harry had the thought to lock the door before walking over to the bed. A wicked smile formed on his lips as Danny laid down on the mattress and Harry climbed over him, knees on either side of Danny’s thighs as he leant close, fingers taking off the bow. A fake look of wonder and amazement appeared on his face as he squealed.

“Oh my God! Exactly what I wanted!”

Danny just chuckled, as he curled a hand in Harry’s collar, bringing him down, lips crashing upon his. The kiss was passionate, sending tingles all the way through Harry’s body, his heartbeat increasing with the sheer desire he could feel radiating from Danny. The drummer’s hands traveled along the perfect, oh so fucking perfect body of his lover, and stopped at the growing erection the guitarist was sporting. They both moaned in the kiss, teeth biting, tongues demanding, making it more urgent, as Danny started to undress Harry, fast.

“Now, Harry. I’ve been waiting for like, two hours for you to get there. Don’t tease me.”

The tone was almost ordering, and it was turning the drummer on more than he’d normally admit. Brushing his lips against Danny’s, lighter, softer kiss this time, he smiled and straightened up, shedding his clothes quickly. At first he thought of dragging this on a bit, as it was his birthday, his gift, and his choice, but the whimper Danny gave out when his hands stopped at his belt broke his resolve, and he ended up just as naked as Danny was in two seconds flat.

There was no question on who would claim the other that night, as Harry laid back down over Danny, nerve-endings flicking on all over his skin as it came in contact with Danny. The younger man was already sweating, the anticipation working him up badly, as he gripped Harry’s shoulders when they kissed again, always fiercer, always stronger.

“Must have you...now.”

The drummer had to admit the feeling of having Danny at his mercy was making his insides twist with pleasure, as he brought a finger to Danny’s lips, closing his eyes when the guitarist sucked it in, twirling his tongue around it, before releasing the digit. Harry wasted no time and placed his mouth upon Danny’s again, taking his mind away from the light hurt that had the guitarist frown for a second as Harry slid a finger inside, fast thrust, just like he knew Danny loved.

Large freckled hands gripped at the drummer’s shoulders, keeping them impossibly close as Harry pressed his finger, soon followed by another, inside Danny, as the guitarist busied himself with making Harry moan loudly, his lips glued to the drummer’s neck, licking away at hypersensitive skin. It was all very intense, urged, moves frantic as they refused to put any space between their bodies. Hips were brushing against each other, making them groan hard, Danny biting down on Harry’s flesh at some point, making the drummer jerk and slam his lower half into the guitarist’s, pain mixing with intoxicating pleasure.

Danny moaned his name, low in his throat, when a third finger joined the others, and bucked his hips off the bed, before arching his back and clawing at Harry’s skin, obvious sign that it wasn’t near to be enough for him right now, frustration getting the better of him as he ground himself on Harry’s hand, making the drummer’s mind spin in sensory overload.

“Damn…Please, now, Harry, now.”

It surely was the first time ever Danny begged Harry, and it sent the drummer’s heart into a crazy whirlwind, beat picking up and swelling with desire and quiet love at the surrender, and he wasn’t long to obey. When Danny’s ankles locked at the small of Harry’s back, pushing him inside once their positions allowed it, the drummer almost came undone, just like that, just by looking down at the simple beauty that was Danny at this given instant, mouth open, eyes closed, curls damp over his sweaty forehead.

Fingers slipped, against slick skin and up the plains of a sculpted torso as Harry filled Danny, traveled down a sea of freckles to end up entwined with the guitarist’s as they moved, hips driving into each other forcefully, like they loved it, clenched muscles under silky skin as their lips met again, sensations flooding through them like so many tidal waves. Harry felt electrified, each touch sending a million volts crawling under his skin and through every cell of his body.

It was fast-paced, as always with them, but even more so because Danny was urging Harry on, his frustration and anticipation during the long wait he endured taking the better of him. The guitarist was meeting Harry’s thrusts halfway, moans loud and it was sending the drummer closer to the edge by the second. Wanting to have Danny completely satisfied before him, Harry’s hand wrapped around hardened flesh, stroking in rhythm with his hips moves, and a smile spread over his lips as Danny arched his back from the bed, trying to do everything at once, meet Harry’s thrusts and thrust his own hips in the drummer’s hand, wanting that reach that highest peak.

And when he did, Harry stilled for a second, watching, mesmerized, Danny yell his name, attached to a full sentence only made of curses. Eyes were open, as were his mouth, and his muscles all tensed, to relax, one after the other. The hand that was still entwined with Harry’s squeezed his fingers softly as their eyes met, the twinkle of satisfaction glinting in the blue irises.

He whispered words of encouragement, swirling around his moans, as he rode down his orgasm, right down Harry’s ear, and it wasn’t long before the drummer was gone, his mind leaving his body as he collapsed on top of Danny, strong, freckled arms holding him tight as he came and crashed back down. Fingers went to fist in curly hair as breathing slowly turned back to normal, sweat-slicked forearm lazily caressed by large fingers as they curled around each other, Danny’s tattooed calf in between Harry’s.

“That’s the most thoughtful birthday gift I ever had.”

A smile spread on their lips as their noses grazed each other.

“It was my pleasure, really.”

JuddJones/Standalone

Lie To Me - Part 2 - JuddJones

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 23:55:49 GMT

Title: Lie To Me - Lesson Two
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Junes - JuddJones
Genre: Angst/Smut
Part: 2/? (will probably be 5 or 6 parts)
Summary: There's a few lessons Danny still has to learn, and Harry is there to teach them...If only Danny can lie to him.
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you.
Beta'ed by Von my fellow Junes partner (armillarysphere). ILU.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
Oh, can I say? Our fanmix works so perfectly with this fic, people. It's a must. *grins*
Con-crit is welcome! GO AHEAD!
Words: 1.881
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

Precedent chapters:
Lesson One

**

It’s surprisingly comfortable, the next few days. Well, it is, apparently, for Danny, because when Harry wakes the next morning, the guitarist isn’t there anymore, but when they meet for lunch, all four of them, Danny is his bubbly self and he doesn’t ignore Harry, he looks at him straight in the eyes and seems normal.

It weirds Harry out, because he can’t stop thinking about it all and it scares him a bit. He’d hoped the alcohol would help him forget, but it obviously didn’t do a single thing; each word, each touch embedded in his brain and marking his skin, a constant reminder of what happened between the two of them.

“Is that a hickey?”

Dougie has a finger down Danny’s collar, exposing bruised skin, and Harry knows he’s blushing, hard, avoiding looks by burying his nose in his sandwich, as Danny just laughs, laughs hard. It makes Harry want to throw something at him, because it seems all too easy for him and the drummer doesn’t really think it’s fair that Danny can just accept what happened this well.

“The blonde, from yesterday? She looked like a spitfire.”

Tom is grinning, and Harry coughs a little, holding a napkin to his mouth, and concentrates. Yeah, be goofy. Smile with the others. He manages to grin a little, but it’s uneasy and Dougie gives him a sharp look, before turning back to Danny.

“Actually…she wasn’t blonde.”

There is wolf whistling at that, their friends understanding that Danny means he ended up with someone else, and the brunette has the decency to throw a look towards Harry, a look of connivance, and the drummer sees something else there, something sparkling, but, no. He’s not going to go back there, there’s no way. He’s not going to think it’s going to happen again. Once was bad enough.

**

Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night by a heavy weight pressing down on him, and to say he’s startled, freaked out, and scared beyond belief at first is an understatement. He wants to scream, but his mouth is frozen. Only his hands seem to work, as they push whatever is on top of him away, trying to put as much distance as possible between the thing and him.

Fingers fumble with the lamp on the nightstand and he wishes he had a knife or something in there somewhere, only he doesn’t. He has a cricket bat in his room somewhere though, that might be useful. But when the light comes on, Harry just stares.

“Danny?!”

A cheeky, drunken grin is staring back at him, and he wants to slap it off Danny’s face, as anger seeps through his system now, makes him want to hit the guitarist forcefully for scaring the hell out of him. He thought he’d seen his last day!

“What the fucking hell, Danny?!

“Did I scare you?”

The words are slurred and giggly, and Harry feels like ripping him into pieces. Asshole. Dumbass. And so on. He throws a pillow to the drunk guitarist and growls in anger, true, deep anger. His heart is only starting to slow down a bit, but when Danny pushes the pillow off his face and his look has turned serious, demanding, the beat picks up all over again.

Oh, no. He’s not drunk, he can’t do this. There’s no way. He promised himself it wouldn’t happen. It can’t happen again. It’s wrong and fucked up and when Danny licks his lips, Harry forgets about what he’d been thinking and just swallows hard, trying to get words out of his mouth.

“Yes. You scared me.”

He wants to say you scare me, no past tense, but he can’t, because Danny is climbing him and straddling him, his hands on Harry’s chest and pushing him down the mattress as he looks down at him. There’s an evident erection in Danny’s jeans, rubbing against Harry’s boxers, and he tries, really hard, to be strong here. He can be strong, he’s not drunk. Right. As if that changed anything.

Danny’s fingers slip against Harry’s shirt when he leans down and their eyes meet. Feelings are swirling in those inebriated blue orbs. Desire, mostly. Curiosity. The guitarist thrusts his hips, almost involuntarily, into Harry’s, and they both bite back moans, eyes closing for a second.

“I want more, Haz.”

That’s obvious, but somehow Harry wanted to hear those words, wanted to make sure Danny is here because he wants it, really. So maybe, surely, it’s the alcohol talking, and Harry shouldn’t give up, he really shouldn’t, but when Danny’s lips close over Harry’s collarbone, where his shirt has slipped a little because of the sloppy moves of the guitarist, his hips jerk up and there’s no way he can refuse, there’s no way he can push Danny off him. He wants this too much, and when lips separate from his body with a loud sucking noise and hips crash down on his forcefully, his brain snaps again.

“Teach me more.”

Harry’s fast at taking Danny’s shirt off, pushing him down on the bed, doing the straddling now, and Danny squirms under him, moans and reels his hips upward, the denim he’s wearing rubbing against Harry’s thighs. He ignores the light burn, concentrating on the guitarist’s chest, tongue flicking against sensitive skin, feeling the heat and letting it grow inside himself too, which is easy because he’s been fucking horny since that last time with Danny, and it just streams down his veins like liquid fire, awakening his nerve-endings when he plants a wet, open-mouthed kiss over Danny’s navel, and the guitarist answers with a loud groan that shakes Harry from head to toe.

He wants to stop accepting being used like this, he wants to even stop enjoying it, but he can’t, because the way Danny hisses and mewls just breaks his brain and makes his body stand to attention. He is an idiot for believing this will ever go somewhere, seeing the way Danny acted after their first night, but does he care that much? He does, he just doesn’t want to admit it when he’s popping open the button of Danny’s jeans, and his breath is hot on the guitarist’s hipbone as he pushes his clothes down.

“Lesson number two, Dan. Gagging isn’t sexy. If you can’t take it, just don’t. There’s other ways.”

He doesn’t give Danny the time to answer as he runs his tongue over his arousal, watching the guitarist’s hands fist in the covers of the messy bed as his hips shoot up to meet Harry’s mouth, and he’s kept in place by the drummer’s strong fingers, digging into his slim hips. As he said, gagging isn’t sexy. And when Harry takes Danny between his lips, he’s determined to show him the right way to do this, but it’s nearly impossible as the guitarist is uncontrollable. So Harry lets go for a second, earning himself a long, disappointed groan, and looks up at Danny, whose blue eyes are twinkling with want and growing hunger.

“Self-control, ever heard of it?”

Harry climbs back up Danny’s body slowly, his chest rubbing against the brunette’s, feeling hard muscles hidden under silky skin, listening to sharp intakes of breath and tasting salty sweat at the guitarist’s jaw. He stops when his lips are closed around Danny’s earlobe, as he knows it made him shiver last time, and it works again here. Danny’s hand clasps over Harry’s hip, tearing at the skin.

“That’s not the best way to learn, anyway.”

Danny just shakes his head, understanding what Harry means, and the drummer feels the power, the control he has over the guitarist, right then. There’s nothing sexier than to know he can do just about whatever he wants to him at that single moment, and it runs through Harry’s body like fuel, making him brush his hips against Danny’s, as nerve-endings explode and make his head spin with sensory overload.

“Suck me off, Danny.”

The guitarist’s mouth falls open in quiet wonder at Harry’s request, at Harry’s order, and the drummer can feel his breathing picking up, chest moving fast against his own, and it’s exhilarating, to feel Danny push him onto his back, to feel his hands tug at his boxers, to feel his shaky breathing against his skin. To feel the dampness of his mouth when his tongue darts out, testing, tasting. And then Danny, being the enthusiastic student that he is, just wraps his lips around the tip of Harry’s cock and slides down, as far as he can.

“Teeth!”

Harry earns himself a sheepish look with that harshly whispered comment, and feels Danny trying again, as the drummer uses all his own self-control not to thrust his hips to Danny’s mouth, not wanting to startle him in any way, and mostly, wanting this to go on forever. He goes on with murmuring instructions, telling the guitarist what makes his head swim in raging pleasure, taking him over like a tsunami and making his walls fall down as he lets go of loud moans.

Danny releases him then with a wet sound that makes the drummer wince slightly, before he leans down again and licks the Harry’s tip, cheeky smile plastered on his face. He knows he’s good, he knows he’s a fast learner, and that’s making Harry’s control snap and disappear, as his fingers thread in Danny’s long, unkempt chestnut curls, and he forces him down, teeth scraping against his arousal as he closes his eyes when the brunette just accepts the dominance and follows the drummer’s strong move.

It a whole new level of exploding that happens in Harry’s body then, as his skin turns so sensitive that when one of Danny’s hand drifts up his stomach, his muscles clench and he almost jerks up, almost undone, with just such a simple move. He tries to grasp at the remnants of his control, try to build it back, but he knows it’s to no avail as his fingers tangle with Danny’s over his chest and he breathes one last breath before giving up to that sweet beautiful death, pulling Danny off of him at the final second.

When Harry falls back in the room, on the scene, he looks into Danny’s eyes, and beckons him close with a crooked finger, to lazily wrap his hand around the guitarist’s hardness. So it wasn’t perfect, but Danny managed to turn Harry on so much it doesn’t matter really, the occasional teeth and the breathing through the mouth. In any other circumstances, the drummer would have been disturbed by those small things, but here, it’s Danny he’s thinking about. It’s a student, and he’s learning fast.

And he’s thrusting his hips in Harry’s fist now, eyes forcefully closed and beads of sweat wetting the strands of curly hair splattered over his forehead. His groans tickle Harry’s skin and fast breathing falls over his neck, coming in short pants of desperation, the evident need for release written all over Danny’s face, contorted, almost in pain, as it’s all too much, it’s all overwhelming, all those new sensations. And when finally he comes and his body goes limp, Harry can’t help kissing his temple softly.

“That’s a well learnt lesson, Danny.”

**

JuddJones/Chaptered

Fic-A-Day: Backtrack, Fast-forward, Press Play - Pudd

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 18:48:53 GMT

Title: Backtrack, Fast-forward, Press Play
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: R (for some sexuality)
Pairing: Pudd - PoynterJudd
Genre: Angst
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Summary: You fast-forwarded back to the present after your tiny daydream of the last day you said his name in such a way, and your heart ached again.
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you. Oh, and you can tell me if you can't take me posting so many fics all the time, too ^^.
Not beta'ed, gah.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
This was written for iheartdougie who prompted me with 'Then', angsty Pudd, (Check the list here! It's complete! \o/). So here. I...I am not sure yet if I really like this or not. I think I mostly do. I, most importantly, couldn't stop writing it. It was calling me.
Con-crit is welcome!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

You could still remember, back then, when things were easy and you didn’t hurt so much, when life agreed with you, when it wasn’t just a fucking hole through your chest, threatening to make you fall forward with each step you were taking, trying to move on. You could still remember the laughter, the whispers, moments you would pinpoint in the timeline and would backtrack to, in instants like this one right now, because it was better back then, because it didn’t hurt.

You just backtracked when your eyes met Harry’s and there was nothing of the old spark there, there was nothing but pain and a longing, delicately etched over his deep blue orbs, a feeling Harry wasn’t supposed to feel, wasn’t allowed to feel, because it was all his doing and it was all his fault, that the laughter, the whispers weren’t there anymore. It was all his fault things weren’t as easy as they used to be, and he had no right to murmur your name like he was doing right now, he had no right to hold out a hand to you like he was right now.

**

“Dougs!”

Your laugh was loud in the garden as you fell to the ground, tackled by a heavier body, arms encircled around your waist and keeping you from hurting too bad as you wriggled under him, trying to wrestle your way out of his arms unsuccessfully, and your chuckles were growing stronger by the minute as he tickled you mercilessly, his lips pressed against the column of your neck.

“Harry! Stop it, damnit!”

“Beg for it!”

You were both breathing heavily, as you kicked the ground and managed to turn the two of you around, feeling like a turtle on its back as your legs wriggled in the air aimlessly and you laughed, you laughed so much it makes your sides ache as his fingers just went on, from your hips to your ribs.

“Please, Harry, just stop! I’ll do anything!”

That had Harry going, as he stopped immediately, his breath hot over your ear.

“Really? Let’s find out.”

**

“Dougie.”

“Don’t. Don’t even say what you’re going to say. You think I don’t know what you’re going to try and tell me? You made the choice, Harry. You deal with the consequences, now.”

You knew he’d say he was sorry for the way he treated you, sorry for the way he used you, and you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear it again, you don’t want to forgive him; you don’t want him to think he’s forgiven. He put the two of you there, he did it, and now, if he could suffer because of it like you were suffering through it, it would just be fucking right. Because he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t like you, he didn’t get it, how the memories of back then were the only things keeping you alive, keeping you going, were the only things you could wrap in at night, when he had his picture-perfect girlfriend with him. You didn’t want to help him overcome his guilt. You didn’t, and you didn’t care if he hurt to see you hurt. You wanted him to hurt.

“I miss you.”

“Shut up.”

Harry was about to talk again, mouth opening and words ready to come out, but you leaned on your hands, you gripped the edge of the leather seat you’d been sitting on and you narrowed your eyes into slits, not like when you laughed, no, but just like when you were deeply, profoundly hurt and angry.

“I said, shut up. Don’t. Don’t do that to me, you hear me, Harold fucking Judd? Don’t do that to me.”

**

The breath is knocked off your lungs as you find yourself against the wall, foreign hand pressed against your chest and other foreign hand pushing your way too large baggy pants down. He knew how you like it, he knew how much you enjoyed the urgency and excitement of a public place, such as you kitchen was, seeing you were living with two other guys, and he loved playing with that knowledge.

And then, as his lips kissed your hipbone and your fingers threaded through his hair, the fleeting thought of his mop being way too shaggy lately crossing your mind, you really enjoyed the fact that he had such knowledge, because you were already hard and he hardly even touched you.

“Harry…”

He didn’t look up, didn’t mock your soft plea, as he would sometimes do, making you ask and beg for it, no, not this time. This time he took you in his mouth and you gasped, your hips jerking towards his mouth, as his hands flattened against your skin, keeping you in place as you threw your head back, looking at the ceiling when you moaned loudly.

“Harry fucking Judd!”

He always made you cry his name out when you came that hard.

You fast-forwarded back to the present after your tiny daydream of the last day you said his name in such a way, and your heart ached again, more, bleeding on the ground between the two of you as he refused to look away, refused to let you mourn, let you cry over the death of your relationship.

“I’m sorry, Doug, I didn’t mean…”

You held up a hand, shaking your head and it’s your time to refuse. You refused to listen to him, you refused to allow him to feel better about himself. You even refused to look at him, because he could have seen the pain in your eyes, he could have seen the regret dusting the blue of your irises and he could have caught it, he could have used it again and he could have made you a fucking slave again, begging for him again, and you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t let him.

“You never mean it, right? Let me tell you something, Harry. I am not going to forgive you. I am not. Not now, not later, not ever. I loved you, you screwed me over. No amount of ‘I’m sorry’ will change that.”

**

”I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Laid on the bed, the two of you wrapped in each other. It was almost always the way your fights ended, with foolish words being thrown at each other, and then, regret immediately flooding you, and apologies exchanged. It was easy, back then, it was simple and it worked, it worked well.

Your fingers spread over his stomach, you were drawing abstract patterns as it just felt nice, to be there, where you were meant to be. Harry was holding you close and nothing else mattered, the fight was already behind you, was already forgotten and you were already forgiven.

“I love you.”

A kiss was burnt on your forehead, act being a proof for the most powerful words you ever let control you, control your heart and control your soul, and you nodded slowly, your face hidden in the crook of Harry’s neck.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

**

“So…”

He was fidgeting, his hands clasped together over his lap, constantly moving as he tried his hardest to make you look at him, but you didn’t want to, still didn’t want to, the strength of the words you just said slapping you in the face as you didn’t know you could have the balls to say them, like the first time you said ‘I love you’.

It was scary, the power of those new words, to you. Confession of anger and hurt replaced confession of love and devotion in your heart and filled it out a little, pulled it back together a little, and you dared to look at Harry. You weren’t scared anymore of your future, and you were going to be ok. Someday.

“So this is goodbye.”

PoynterJudd/Standalone

A/N: I planned on writing Junes...and then this idea hit me. I am writing way too much Pudd recently. I need to stop. Muahahaha.

Fic-A-Day: Let The Sun Go Down, And Let The Stars Rise - Pudd

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 17:37:16 GMT

Title: Let The Sun Go Down, And Let The Stars Rise
Author: Ellie (evolia)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pudd - PoynterJudd
Genre: Fluff
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Summary: The sun is completely gone now, streaks of red lingering at the edge of their line of vision...
A/N: Con-crit very welcome. Like, really, I'm not joking, you can tell me how much this sucks and I'll probably still love you. Oh, and you can tell me if you can't take me posting so many fics all the time, too ^^.
Not beta'ed, gah.
Reviews are like crack, and give me the want to write more, people. *grin*
And thanks to everyone who reviewed on my other fics, you are all angels, I love you very much so.
This was written for rah_rah_ramen who prompted me with 'Twilight', fluffy Pudd, (Check the list here! It's complete! \o/). So here. I want to add this standalone totally has no plot whatsoever, but I enjoyed writing it, a lot. And the title is awfully long, too.
Con-crit is welcome!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's only pure fun for my twisted mind and my equally twisted muse. And I'm poor anyway.

Dougie really likes this time of day. Sitting outside and looking up, oblivious to the world moving around him, going on without him, as he just enjoys those long minutes of perfect delicacy before day would be night and everything would seemingly start over. Another life waking up as one dies down quietly, and here, that moment, right now, at dusk, stars lighting up one by one and sun slowly going to put their side of the world to sleep, and waking the other side brightly.

His drink, sitting by his side, is kept cool with the light mid-June breeze as he stares up at the sky, and he doesn’t hear the bay window being opened and closed, he doesn’t move when he hears someone walk closer, he doesn’t look when he recognize the scent of Harry’s aftershave and he doesn’t talk when the drummer lies down on the middle of the skateboard ramp next to him.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Well you found me.”

Dougie realises then that this time of day for him also has calming effects, because he’s not as pissed as before, he doesn’t want to yell at Harry as much as he wanted to earlier, and he just sighs when he feels the drummer fidgets beside him, obviously wanting to say something, but Dougie doesn’t let him, doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, doesn’t want to have to go back on their day again.

“Look, that’s Mars.”

He points up to a star that just appeared in the sky, slowly turning into night, the horizon set on fire by the blazing sun, and he feels Harry trying to catch which one he’s talking about, a smile spreading over Dougie’s lips, almost unconsciously. He turns, looking at the side of Harry’s face, the light stubble and the focused eyes, the slightly parted lips and the light flush of his cheeks, and he thinks that anyway, staying mad at him is nearly impossible.

“Doesn’t it look a bit red?”

“Mars for you, idiot.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one. You should know these things.”

There’s a sigh leaving Harry’s lips, hefty breath vanishing in the warm atmosphere, and Dougie turns back to the sky, almost regretting his light jab. He knows Harry hates that, hates the way the young bassist talks himself down, like he’s not as good as the drummer, and Harry hates it, with a passion.

“Dougs…”

“I know. I’m sorry. Drop it.”

“I’m sorry too. ‘Bout earlier.”

Dougie just nods, because he knows that already, they had fights in the past and it always happened like that, they could never stay mad and they always found a way, most of the time, a quiet, simple way, to make things better, and today it was Dougie’s way, his moment of calm out of their hectic schedules. A moment to do nothing but contemplate and realise fighting won’t get them anywhere, anyway.

He moves a bit, lays his head over Harry’s chest, and there’s the instinctive move of the drummer’s fingers from his side, to Dougie’s hair, threading through long, messy blond hair as they keep on watching the sky turning dark, in silence, comfortable, loving silence. It feels good again, to be in Harry’s arms. It feels safe and it’s good like that, it doesn’t need more. He doesn’t care that he can’t feel his bum anymore because the ramp is hard under them and he doesn’t care that goosebumps are starting to form up his forearms because the wind turned a bit colder than earlier. He just doesn’t care.

The sun is completely gone now, streaks of red lingering at the edge of their line of vision as one of Harry’s arm is holding Dougie close, around his chest, hand resting at the bassist’s ribs, and their fingers are entwined, still, as they watch the sky, and Dougie has a soft smile on, feeling where he belongs and there’s nothing more that is needed right now for him to be happy.

“Hey, we can see the Milky Way.”

Dougie chuckles, and Harry looks down, fingers drumming in his hair, questioning the young bassist without even having to talk, and that’s why it’s good, too, because it’s simple and they understand each other, they get what’s going on in their heads. And that’s pretty much the best they could ask for.

“It reminds me of Star Girl.”

“What about it?”

“Gayest lyrics ever written. I fell in love with Uranus? What have we been drinking?”

“I’d answer that but it’s really, really dirty.”

Dougie erupts into giggles, having perfectly understood what Harry meant and, yeah, that one was quite dirty; he had to admit, even for him, thinking of saying that out loud made him blush. Biting his lip, he turns his head to look at Harry, raising his free hand to run it over his cheek, before moving around and landing on his stomach as he leans close and kisses the drummer softly.

“We good?”

Harry’s question, which almost sounds like a plea, because he hates just as much as Dougie does when they fight, makes the bassist kiss him again, their noses grazing each other when he pulls back, and Harry’s hands went on Dougie’s hips, holding him there, leaning onto his side, keeping him warm.

“We good.”

“Good. Let’s go back inside and have makeup sex, then? I’m getting cold. And I really want to get you naked.”

Chuckles lingered in the newly born night as they sprinted inside.

PoynterJudd/Standalone