internet faux pas
Jun. 16th, 2010 03:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
piecesof_reesesI have been so productive lately, guys! Y'all should be proud. My journal is wearing new clothing! I've created a sticky! I feel so much more legitimate now.
I fear I have committed an internet faux pas, however. I was scouring the great interwebs for a new lay-out because my last one was a little boxy for my tastes (I know, I know, this one isn't much better in that respect,) and then I finally found one! And it was a lovely shade of apple green. And so I put it in and switched things around and fiddled with it until it was all to my liking, and then I decided to go and cyberstalk some people, as you do.
Which is when I realized that I downloaded the exact same lay-out as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
softlyforgotten. I feel so weird about this! Because I'm not even sure if I have plausible deniability in this case. I do visit her journal fairly often because I enjoy slobbering at her writing. PERHAPS I WAS SUBCONSCIOUSLY ATTEMPTING TO IMITATE HER. ///o\\\
But, um. Yeah. Hopefully if she ever stumbles upon my journal she will take it as a compliment. Imitation is the sincerest, etc. etc.
Anyway. I want to write something! But my creative juices have run dry. People should leave me prompts! I can't promise they'll get filled in a timely manner, (oratallbecausei'materribleperson) but I will do my best. Really. ANYONE. Please? Even strangers I have never spoken to! My flist is kind of microscopic, after all.
/awkward plea
Also everyone should read this! Amazing Tony/Gibbs genderfuck byrageprufrock. It was completely out of my usual fandom wanderings, but I enjoyed it immensely. :D
Also also, leave me recs for big bangs! I am having a hard time getting started.
I fear I have committed an internet faux pas, however. I was scouring the great interwebs for a new lay-out because my last one was a little boxy for my tastes (I know, I know, this one isn't much better in that respect,) and then I finally found one! And it was a lovely shade of apple green. And so I put it in and switched things around and fiddled with it until it was all to my liking, and then I decided to go and cyberstalk some people, as you do.
Which is when I realized that I downloaded the exact same lay-out as
softlyforgotten. I feel so weird about this! Because I'm not even sure if I have plausible deniability in this case. I do visit her journal fairly often because I enjoy slobbering at her writing. PERHAPS I WAS SUBCONSCIOUSLY ATTEMPTING TO IMITATE HER. ///o\\\But, um. Yeah. Hopefully if she ever stumbles upon my journal she will take it as a compliment. Imitation is the sincerest, etc. etc.
Anyway. I want to write something! But my creative juices have run dry. People should leave me prompts! I can't promise they'll get filled in a timely manner, (oratallbecausei'materribleperson) but I will do my best. Really. ANYONE. Please? Even strangers I have never spoken to! My flist is kind of microscopic, after all.
/awkward plea
Also everyone should read this! Amazing Tony/Gibbs genderfuck by
rageprufrock. It was completely out of my usual fandom wanderings, but I enjoyed it immensely. :DAlso also, leave me recs for big bangs! I am having a hard time getting started.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 05:58 pm (UTC)i've got a prompt! hows about you write the bandslam p^2 au that i kind of accidentally abandoned? i wrote all of a page in one year, so... :D?
I think you're fine on the layout front? idk. *shrugs* it's not as weird as if she had this big banner or whatever and then you copied it. then it'd be weird
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 09:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:02 pm (UTC)“Wow,” he thinks to himself very loudly, an echoing voiceover bouncing around in his head. “I am such a loser.”
A kid skates past him quickly, but not before turning his head to yell “Loser!” in Brendon’s general direction. Brendon sighs and bends down to tie his shoelaces. This is going to suck. Switching schools junior year? Brendon’s not going to have any friends. He is such a loser. Has he mentioned that yet?
Because he is. He is a loser because he is klutzy and wears glasses and also, he doesn’t have any numbers in his name. It’s the new thing.
“My name’s Ry12113687an,” introduces a really hot guy. “I am really cool.”
Brendon is so jealous of Ry12113687an. His eyes are deep pools of Hershey’s chocolate, the kind that are more wax than cacao, and he has glossy tresses that remind Brendon of pictures of pelicans drowning in oil that he saw on the news.
“My name’s Brendon,” Brendon says. “Why do you speak in a monotone?”
“Because I am really cool,” Ry12113687an explains. Brendon nods understandingly.
“Not only am I hot and original and edgy,” Ry12113687an says, “I can also sing. Do you want to hear?”
“De-de-definitely,” Brendon stammers, and then he trips over his shoelaces again. Brendon is such a loser.
Ryan starts singing Dance, Dance, because that is the pinnacle of all musical evolution, and Brendon watches him openmouthed in awe. The dulcet tones of Autotune are like a balm for his soul. His deep, tortured, loserish soul.
“I want to tear out your vocal cords and eat them,” Brendon tells Ry12113687an. “I bet they would taste like red velvet cake.”
“I get that a lot,” Ry12113687an says. “It’s my cross to bear. It’s why I’m a social pariah, you know. Just like you. I am relateable.”
“Wow,” Brendon says.
“Yeah.”
And then suddenly, Brendon is swept up in a montage. It’s kind of dizzying, to be honest, and he doesn’t really like the Celine Dion song that’s playing, but he goes with it. It’s a friendship montage, and he and Ry12113687an are laughing in the sunlight, holding hands, talking shit about other people, and at one point, they’re even on a roof.
“Wow,” Brendon says. “I feel like I really know you as a person now.”
“Ditto,” says Ry12113687an, showing off some hip teenage slang. “I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer than five minutes.”
“Ditto,” says Brendon, to show that he’s a quick learner. He can feel his loser status slowly slipping away. He is maybe at 98.7% social retardation now.
“You know what we should do?” asks Ry12113687an, excitedly.
“Your monotone’s slipping,” Brendon tells him helpfully.
“Oh, shit, thanks,” Ry12113687an says.
“No probs,” Brendon says. He thinks he’s getting the hang of this slang thing.
“Like I was saying,” Ry12113687an says flatly, “we should enter this band competition that is totally the biggest thing going on at this school even though I am still really anti-establishment. Really.”
“Sure!” Brendon says. “That sounds great.”
“Good. Head’s up, we’re going to have to have another montage now. Hope you can learn to play three different instruments in five minutes.”
“Shiii---“
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:04 pm (UTC)“Oh, no, the Glory Dogs are playing Dance, Dance for the band competition, Ry12113687an!” Brendon exclaims. “What are we going to do? They took our song!”
“This is terrible news,” Ry12113687an monotones. “I need to think. We need something equally cheesy and inspirational, hopefully without any kid-unfriendly negativity about sex and drugs. How about Hum Hallelujah?”
“Uh, Ry12113687an, I don’t—“ Brendon starts to say, but the announcer is saying their name (it’s Alarm! In the Lockerroom, which Ry12113687an thought of in a moment of sheer genius) and it’s their turn to go on.
“It’s all or nothing, gang,” Brendon says to their group of blandly pretty and equally generic friends. “Eyes on the prize! Let’s give it 150%!”
“Cliché cliché cliché!” Ry12113687an adds quickly before they’re running onstage.
Time seems to slow to a stop while they’re performing. Actually, Brendon checks his watch three times, and he’s pretty sure the song took over fifteen minutes to perform.
But they kill it. They’re so good that everyone is cheering Brendon’s name, and Brendon thinks to himself loudly, in another echoing voiceover, “Wow. I’m not a loser anymore.”
And then suddenly, it’s all over, and Brendon’s eardrums are bursting in a supernova of screaming and clapping and congratulating.
“Did we win?” he asks Ry12113687an.
“Uh, no,” Ry12113687an says. “But we’re getting signed by Pete Wentz!”
“No kidding?” Brendon asks.
“We’re going to be fucking famous, Br3ndon!”
Brendon—no, it’s Br3ndon now—can feel tears pricking his eyes. He finally did it. He broke out of his loser mold in an inspirational tale for the ages. Now if he could only break out of his virgin mode—and, whoa Ry12113687an’s kissing him. Good timing, Brendon thinks to himself, and bends Ry12113687an over manfully.
“I can’t wait to see the blooper reel,” Ry12113687an mutters in Br3ndon’s ear as he kisses his way down Ry12113687an’s neck.
“What?” Br3ndon says.
“Nothing.”
(eta: sorry for the repost, just figured i should add a scene break!)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:14 pm (UTC)(also: "I see what you did there :D)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 11:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 06:18 pm (UTC)Hundreds of cats
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-17 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-18 02:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-19 09:23 pm (UTC)