pop_tarts: justin/lance (Default)
I have no idea if this is even a good idea. it's probably not. )

grammies.

Feb. 8th, 2004 08:43 pm
pop_tarts: justin/lance (members of their own cult)
I was going to play my favorite game in the world, which is the Awards Season Drinking Game. because tonight is the grammies, and dude, if that doesn't call for drinking I don't know what does. but then I realized that would be bad for my health, because the last time I watched the Grammies I ended up passing out on [livejournal.com profile] strandia's floor right after Eminem.

so I did this instead. )
pop_tarts: justin/lance (the kissing cult)
wip day (linked *everywhere*) has resulted in these two fiascos coming to light: [newly wed] - which was a Joey/JC story that got stalled and had no point - and [empties to the tide] - which is actually an incarnation of Sandy the Older's birthday story from two years ago, and two scenes were cannibalized for "miss you like sleep."

also, there's this madness. )
pop_tarts: justin/lance (members of their own cult)
I'm not posting any popslash wip's right now because I have about ten thousand. my 'discard' folder is eons bigger than my in progress folder - maybe it anyone's interested, I might later. but, instead, here's this.

--

Paris flops down, trying to keep the towel wedged firmly around her breasts while still laying spread eagle on the hotel duvet. They always get a suite; not the nicest suite, but one with a sitting room and one with a full kitchen. She doesn't know or care what her parents think about always demanding a suite. Paris likes to be able to make eggs in the morning if she wants to. They usually don't, but it's nice.

Nick is at the desk, listening to some track and making notes. When she finally rolls over, with a little tuck of the towel, he pulls his headphones off. "Good shower?"

Paris nods. They make sure to always get the duvet covers washed too. Owning the hotel has some nice perks. Paris makes sure that anyone who does it without complaining gets a raise. She tells him, "I need more mousse though."

Nick's pushed his notes away already, come over to sit on the bed. He starts playing with the hem of her towel. "we can go to that salon down the street."

Paris loves him because automatically he knows the only store in Beverly Hills that carries her mousse; she rolls over, on top of him, and plants her face in his stomach, arms wrapped around his waist. Into his tee shirt she says, "I was thinking about you yesterday. in, uh, in the limo."

"oh?"

She has to move her face or stop breathing. when Paris looks up, Nick's head is tilted down to look right at her, right into her eyes. "Yeah," and then she says, "I think, I dunno." She shrugs. "Something was on the radio, Sheryl Crow or something? and I was like, 'I'll call Nick because I miss him', except then I remembered you'd still be in the air and your phone would be off."

He smiles, and looks pleased. "Yeah?"

Paris nods. It's the truth. "but you were flying to see me."

"I was," he says. "of course I was."
pop_tarts: justin/lance (members of their own cult)
hey look, I haven't died. though you might wish I had. kel managed to hook me on the true heterosexual love of Nick and Paris.

um. yeah )
pop_tarts: justin/lance (kick THE WALL.)
Chris is always god
we get stoned and write sonnets
his head caved in well

*

star trak stand for geeks
pharrell used to wear tinfoil
under his tin hat

*

nevada is big
lance saw way too much desert
his entire life

*

justin gets real high
kicking the wall did made sense
at least at the time

*

that last night on stage
justin just found his center
of gravity. in chris.

*

Um. I was never here. This never happened.
pop_tarts: justin/lance (fucked up.)
I'm dying. Dying, I tell you! melted utterly, into a little puddle of "oh my god socutesocute!" it's sad and pathetic. Lance! where have you been all these months!!

--

"Who's this?" Justin said, and held up a somewhat tattered picture so Lance could inspect it. "He's pretty cute."

"Umm," and Lance squinted at the photo. "a guy I used to know?"

Justin peered at the guy. He was cute, and attentive. "Old boyfriend?" Lance shrugged; Justin decided. Old boyfriend. "It's a really good picture. You should put it up."

"Um," Lance said.

"I know," and Justin hopped up off the floor, abandoning the box he was sifting through. "People always think it's weird to put up pictures of themselves, or put up pictures of ex's. Did you hate him at the end?"

Lance held a green and orange lamp up; Justin shook his head, cringing, and Lance put it in the box for the garage sale. "I actually still like him quite a bit. He moved across town. He frames artwork for a living."

"You should get a frame for this and hang it up," Justin said, nodding. "If you don't, I will." He tucked the picture on Lance's kitchen table, into a pile of important papers and a cutout magazine article on gay detroit that for some reason Lance was obsessed with. Justin sat down at the table, stacking the papers and the photo in reverse-size order.

Lance came to stand behind him, and both his hands came to rest on Justin's shoulders. "you'd hang a picture of me and an old boyfriend up?" he asked Justin.

Justin put his hand on Lance's, shrugging. "You look happy in it, you look good. Why not?"



etc. I don't know! [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor owes me social!worker!au scenes, which this was supposed to be. so since this sucks, you should all tell her to write some instead.
pop_tarts: justin/lance (disappear up into the mountains)
two things before we begin: a. I don't think this is very good at all - just another body-swapping scene - but it's all I've managed to write today.

b. this actually is because in the shower, I was struck with the best icon idea ever, from the Eminem lyric "I'd rather put out a motherfuckin' gospel record" than shut up. and then I sent an email, describing the livejournal post that I would make, if I had time to write. and it went something like:

'I have this incredible urge right now to make an all-eminem icon set, or at least an icon that says "gospel record", and then weigh in on every single thing that crops up on livejournal. but since nothing will ever make me ever give up the cult icon set, there's only this scene.' )
pop_tarts: justin/lance (Default)
Do you think that the more fucked up one gets, the better your table in the special hell becomes? Like at the those fancy restaurants with the view of the huge fountain and the band - today it's mayhem, tomorrow it's incest, and the maitre'd just keeps moving you closer and closer to the best table in the house?

I sure hope so.

--

Lance frowned. "Dude, did your mom ever dyke out? Cause that could be--"

"You can't say that," Justin said, and covered his eyes. "it's not polite. And no."

"Dude, I am a card carrying member of the community. Unlike those of us who still play it straight."

Justin swiveled around. "And being such a firm believer in dick, what would you want with my mom's lesbian activities anyway?" Lance looked like he was going to actually answer for a minute. Justin held his hand up. "Nevermind, do not tell me. Joey's been a bad influence on you."
pop_tarts: justin/lance (lynncesssst.)
you know, I was called white trash when I used to say Lynn was hot when we watched "we are nsync".

--

"Stop saying that Lance," Justin said, and put a towel over his head. This tour was never, ever going to end. He didn't really appreciate how incredibly much he depended on the support of his mother being around until she ended up getting a surprise trip across the country.

Trace walked by. "You ready to go yet?"

"nearly," Justin said.

"Yo, Lynn," and Trace drank from Justin's water. "You coming with us tonight?"

"Hell, why not," Lance said, and gave Trace a dazzling smile. Trace blinked a few times, looked at Justin, scratched his head, and then announced his intention to find Steve. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"My mom probably wouldn't come," Justin said, towel still on his face. "But it doesn't matter. Trace has seen my mom do some weird shit."

"You know," Lance said thoughtfully, "since you called your dad and told him, no one would be weirded out if I picked someone up." Justin sat up so fast his spine cracked. "Lynn's pretty fine."

Justin put the towel back on his face.

"No, really," Lance said. "I bet I could get some decent action with these." Justin didn't move, and actually closed his eyes as well, because if Lance was gripping his mother's breasts - no, there was no 'if' about it.

--

you know, I remember a time when I was funny. ah well. sorry. :D
pop_tarts: justin/lance (disappear up into the mountains)
I just had to explain how on one side of the line, there is me, incest, cross-dressing, subliminal messages, murrrdah, mayhem, scalpings, and the occasional bit of torture. on the other, there is Simon Adebisi.

to allay trauma, some nice, safe college AU:

--

"Justin?" Lance called out. They were supposed to be meeting at nine for a study group; Justin wasn't in his room. Lance had already combed the whole frat house looking for him.

Justin's head finally popped out of the crawlspace above the third floor bathroom. Dust fell onto the carpet as he opened the trap door. "Sorry, be down as soon as I put stuff away up here."

Lance held the ladder steady while Justin slid back down to earth. "What were you doing?"

"Checking some stuff out." Justin shrugged. His eyes roamed from one end of the hall to the other. Lance nodded, tucking the organic chemistry doorstop under his arm more firmly. "Are you ready?"

"Gonna put the ladder away?" Lance asked, amused. Justin tucked his hair behind his ears, staring at his shoes for a second. "Go on, put the ladder away and we'll get started. I'm gonna totally flunk this test."

"No you're not," Justin said. "I'll help you."

--

also, is it totally and completly wrong, kel, to want JC to say to Chris, his psych TA, at one point in time: "let me in"? because if it's not, then I think we also totally just found our ending.
pop_tarts: justin/lance (Default)
memo to me and [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor: title the hooker AU "sleep on the loveseat". title the college AU "cooking with the devil", "frying down in hell" or possibly "taco stand".
pop_tarts: justin/lance (kick THE WALL.)
1. does anyone have a screencap of Justin at the VMAs giving Eminem love? I can't remember seeing any.

2. [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor, you must write a scene where Justin gets an A on his organic chemistry midterm. Because Lance "tutored" him. Yes, it's a college AU. also titled b!g!s!k!inluv! which, if anyone deciphers that, they deserve to know the joke.

3.

"But, mom," Justin said to the phone. He was having a bit of a problem reacting reasonably in this situation. "Did you really sleep with Chris?"

Lance was sitting in the lounge and painting his -- Lynn's -- no, Lance's nails, it didn't matter what body they were attached to - his nails black, and smirking a little bit. Justin thought for a minute that Lance was smirking at him.

His mom answered in that deep, low voice, "Baby, it. Let's not talk about it right now, all right?"

"But--" and then Justin stopped. Really, his mom had a right to do whatever she wanted; it was her and Paul's business, and Paul seemed to be. But. Still. "Chris?"

"I'm going to fly out and see you tomorrow, okay? Make sure you get a room that I can stay in? Because--"

"Right, right," and Justin sighed. Right. His mom might share his suite. Lance probably wouldn't. "I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, sweetie."

"How's my body doing?" Lance asked, and blew on his nails.

Justin hung up the phone, and turned around. "You know," he said, trying not to feel, however he was feeling. He tried not to get too resentful towards Lance about Chris and his mom sleeping together; it wasn't really Lance's fault, even though it was, in a bizarre twilight zone way. Justin added, "About the same."
pop_tarts: justin/lance (lynncesssst.)
I blame [livejournal.com profile] glockgal.

--

"No, honestly, they're seriously freaking me out," Justin said. He flipped over, holding the phone gingerly. "What should I do?"

"Honey," JC said, and then Justin's phone beeped and he answered the call waiting, and Joey nearly yelled,

"I can't believe Lance slept with him," and Justin looked over at Lance, curled up in his mother's bathrobe and reading a magazine on Justin's bus, and then Justin took a very, very long breath, and then he winced a little, and then he realized he really didn't want to hear any more of--

"not like he's not hot, okay, fine, but seriously, Lance knows what a bad fucking idea that is, right?" Joey was still talking. "Geez."

Justin swallowed. "Lance. Slept with a guy."

Joey paused. "Dude, are you okay? You knew that, it's so not news."

"No, you're right," and Justin breathed very deeply. "Lance slept with a guy, it was a bad idea, well, we all can't--"

"Sleeping with one of your band members is a bad idea, you know that, unless there's the right vibe," and then Justin counted to ten in his head, and then blanched, and realized that as he was talking to Joey right now, and that JC was waiting patiently on his other line while Joey talked about Lance sleeping with-

"I can't believe Chris hasn't called you yet," Joey said. "It's totally weird."

Lance looked up from his magazine; Justin was making little choking noises, deep in the back of his throat. "Are you okay?" he asked, in Lynn's twang. "You look weird."

Justin didn't look at Lyn-- at Lance, at Lynn's face making Lance's bored-yet-semi-attentive face. "I have to go," he said to Joey, and all but hung up on him.

JC asked, "Justin, what's up?"

"I have to get off the phone."

"Joey just called you, didn't he. Did you hear about Lance and Chris? Don't worry, it was a one-time thing, you're still--"

"It's, I just gotta run, my battery's dying," Justin replied faintly.

Lance tapped long manicured nails against the back of the couch impatiently. Justin closed his phone gently, and placed it beside him; then didn't really move. Lance raised an eyebrow at him. "*What*?"
pop_tarts: justin/lance (lynncesssst.)
Note to self #1: fandom cliche you haven't written yet - body-switching.

Note to self #2: don't stay up until four thirty am reading lambs body switching stories or bike messenger and non-profits aus, even if they are by K and k and you love them. Because it makes you feel like you're jumpy and twitchy and have a fever.

Note to self #3: find a way to make body switching appear original despite all evidence to the contrary, and lamb-y. Possibly via Lynn Harless.

-

"So I need to call JC, because he totally owes me a hundred bucks - Britney ended up making out with Madonna, and I called it like, years ago, man, no one knew but we had a betting pool going," Just called out, and then stared at his mother. "Mom?"

Lynn Harless was wrapped in a hotel sheet and a sweatsuit, and had a very odd looking scowl on. "Justin," she said, and then put a hand on her throat.

"Are you okay?"

The scowl deepened, and she was about to say something, but Justin's phone rang, the special ring tone he used for either really important business calls or booty. Basically, phone calls that required some kind of work on his part to gain a pleasant reward. He glanced at the call display - Lance - and grinned. Lance qualified on both accounts.

"Yo," and he kept looking at his mom. "What's the what?"

"Justin, baby," Lance's voice said. Somehow, it was sweeter than normal. "Can I talk-- can I talk to Lynn?"

Justin shrugged, and handed the phone over. Lynn said, "hello?" and waited, listening intently for a minute, then, "oh thank christ, I thought I was crazy," and then, "I suppose it's possible," and then finally, "should I tell him?" Justin watched all of this, mystified, and his mom finally winced. "Uh, Justin."

"What the hell is it? You're freaking me out."

"This." Lynn cleared her throat, and then rubbed her forehead in a weirdly familiar way. "I'm Lance."

"What?"

"I'm Lance," and the forehead rubbing continued, just like how Lance looked when he was bent over a script. "In your mom's body."

"Ew, mom, that's just--"

"No," his mom interrupted, and from the other end of the phone, Lance's voice sounded loud and a little too brash. "I'm Lance. Just. Not."

Justin distinctly heard whoever was on the other end of the phone say, "If you talk to JC, get my hundred too, man," and then he swallowed thickly. Lynn - his mom - the person in front of him, their scowl deepened.

--

um. I disavow all knowledge of this.
pop_tarts: xtina's ass (dirrty)
[livejournal.com profile] stubbleglitter asked for lynncest. and when don't I do what I'm told? also, I should stop watching the Food Network. maybe. :) lynncest be beyond this thar cut tag. )
pop_tarts: justin/lance (Default)
that I'll be in southern california next week. Orange County, to be exact. yes, this is the perfect time for a Colin Hanks joke. er, I don't know who all is around there. but. if anyone's interested, next week, you could message my phone.

and because there's never posting without fic.

--

Justin was damned near about to take a baseball bat to the old AM tape player. "Can we not," he said, "find another station?" He stared at the thing - it was so old that the dial was manual, for chrissake - "or a different tape?"

Chris and Christina shrugged together. "It's broken," Chris said helpfully. Christina shook her tits at Justin's desk as her 2 o'clock appointment came in.

Justin knew that the tape player was doing it on purpose. Christina's mix tape had only been put on this morning; there was no reason for it to pick R Kelly four times, and then refuse to be ejected. "Does no one worry that R Kelly was convicted of child molestation?"

Chris shrugged. "Some of those fourteen year olds," he replied, and licked his upper lip. "You know how it is."


--

well, I like the song. it torments [livejournal.com profile] kellyem but you can't have everything.
pop_tarts: justin/lance (okay)
So, wow, I haven't been here in a looooong while. But I don't want to give up on popslash, so, trying to come back. also: someone kick my ass about the hooker AU, because--

#

"I can't believe they're trying to kick you out of your apartment, J," Joey said, and pulled away from the curb. Joey's car smelled like lemon, not like air freshener but expensive cologne.

"Well," and Justin sighed. "I'm behind on rent. It's the way things go."

"look--"

"no," Justin said. "Maybe I'll move in with Chris or something. He's in the building across from us, so."

Joey looks at him. "You could move in with Lance."

"I could move in with Lance," Justin echoed, but it wasn't even a little bit convincing. Just because they cleaned together didn't mean that Lance wanted him to stay.
pop_tarts: justin/lance (soinlov)
so [livejournal.com profile] girlcakes said: okay, there's this joke. I need to find my mic and make a sound file so I can send it. cause it's just as many people as are in a room, yelling "I'M HARRY POTTER!" over and over in really cracked-out voices, and then variations on that. "WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MY WAND?" "I CAN DO MAGIC SPELLS!" "I LIKE TO SUCK WIZARD COCK!"
and then [livejournal.com profile] pop_tarts said: "I LIKE TO SUCK WIZARD COCK!" is pretty funny all on it's own..
[livejournal.com profile] girlcakes: cause it's one of those things that *only* gets funnier. this started in November, and it's exponentially funnier now.
[livejournal.com profile] pop_tarts: right, yeah. *g* hee. like the cult of timberlake. Justin sucks wizard cock!
and at some point they dragged in [livejournal.com profile] kellyem to bring the JC and then there was, uh

harry potter and the very, very gay boyband )

sex sells.

Apr. 3rd, 2003 09:39 pm
pop_tarts: justin/lance (co-dependency rocks!)
note to self:

~

"Have you ever cleaned this oven, Justin?" Lance asked, peering into the big metal box warily. "Because it sure doesn't look like it."

"Of course I have," Justin answered promptly. "I did, I mean." He scratched his head, already plunging his hands into boiling water, scrub brush in hand. "I must have."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." He closed the door anyway, and leaned a little away from the appliance. "Why the sudden need to clean the place, anyway?"

Justin flicked soap suds at Lance. "My place is always clean, man. It's just, it really really needs it right now. I've been putting too many hours at work." He attacked a pot with the scrubber. "You can just like, watch some TV if you want, I should be done these in a while and we can go out. I'll finish up later."

"It's okay," and Lance grabbed the broom. "I don't mind."

"Seriously, you don't have to," Justin said, rinsing his first pot and leaving it to dry. "I mean, I know I promised I'd take you out but I really really have to do these dishes first, it'll just be a minute."

"I don't mind," Lance said again, and started sweeping with careful strokes. "We can like, order in or something." He kept sweeping. "I've never cleaned an oven before, so it'll be good times."

Justin splashed around in the dishwater, cleaning like his life depended on it. He was giggling. "I swear, it must have been cleaned before. Honest. I mean, I've been living here over a year now."

"Have you ever USED it before?" Lance asked.

Justin thought about it. "Uh." Another plate was added to the pile. "I think so. Not for a while." He wiped soap suds off his forehead. "The office has been busy. I haven't really had time."


because they clean the oven together! joey's a hooker! sex sells!
Page generated Jul. 24th, 2017 02:39 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios