urbancate: (karl - fanfiction objection)
urbancate ([personal profile] urbancate) wrote2011-02-02 08:48 pm

prompts. give me them.

Oh, how I NEED to write! I used to write, right? And I wasn't half bad, right? I need to find that again. I need some KARL or McCOY or REAPER or CHAPEL in my life. OFCs, of course, always welcome here.


HELP ME, FLIST. YOU ARE MY ONLY HOPE.
ext_375859: (this is not a cake)

[identity profile] izzyfics.livejournal.com 2011-02-03 04:01 am (UTC)(link)
Karl/OFC (but of course)

You told us of your new life there
You got someone comin' around
Gluing tinsel to your crown
He's got you talking pretty loud

You say you're still in love
If it's true what can be done
It's hard to leave all those moments behind

(The Shins: Kissing the Lipless)

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-04 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
(ACK. IDK.)

bury it in the yard

For a nanosecond, as she hurls a coffeemaker through a window and shatters her lovely life and lovely romance and lovely Southern California home, for a fleeting instant she thinks this is all Urban's fault.

- -

She is friends with Karl first. And that is how she meets Chris. And Chris is the lovely romantic Southern California life she has always wanted. T-shirts and cardigans and flip flops and coffee shops and dog-eared books.

And a lovely life it is. For a year, a good solid year.

- -

"We're too much alike, Lexie," he says to her one morning. He needs something...more.

That is when she hurls the coffeemaker out the kitchen window. The toaster follows, but it's not her that throws it. Maybe he's right.

Except for a couple of small appliances, it's a rather bloodless split up. Barely acrimonious. The smallest hatchet she ever buried.

Until Urban is back in town. And then there's the question: Who gets Karl?

- -

You know that's QUINTO and Chris, right? he responds with a text.

- -

She loses by default. To Trek filming and nerdery and epic bromances. Which is fine. Except for the part where she calls him up and calls him a damn Kiwi bastard who is utterly devoid of loyalty, oh, and have fun with that epic bromance, okay?! It's a voicemail, it's not her proudest moment, and now it will live in infamy. Again, that's fine. Seattle sounds like a nice place to live, doesn't it?

- -

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He raises an eyebrow at her, managing to look both wicked and sweetly concerned. As if he is still her friend. Bastard.

"No, you can't come in."

"We can talk out here."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"What the hell were you doing with Pine? Seriously, Alexandra." He is the only person besides her mother who ever calls her that.

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't right for you."

"You wait until now to tell me this? You have some nerve."

"You would of just told me to fuck off and mind my own business if I did."

"Maybe."

"Yes."

"Okay, yes. But you still haven't told me why you're here."

"I can't be your friend anymore."

"Oh, really? Newsflash: I already kind of figured that out."

"No, you haven't."

"Oh, he speaks in riddles! It's hot out here, just come inside and tell me all about it. Tell me what the fuck you're talking about."

He follows her inside and closes the front door behind him. She stands firmly in the middle of the hallway - this far and no further. "Quickly. And then you can leave."

"You're gonna make me do this the hard way."

"There's an easy way?" She really doesn't like seeing him - it reminds her too much of how much she misses him. Her friend.

"There just might be..." He moves and somehow the space between them is...less...more...what is he doing?

"What are you doing?" She has to look up at him now, he's so close.

"The easy way," he breathes against her cheek, and she is frozen, flightless. Terrified.

Consumed.

- -

Yes, Seattle is a nice idea. Not that she ever goes.
ext_375859: (Karl Approves)

[identity profile] izzyfics.livejournal.com 2011-02-04 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
Eeee! Love the idea of the other guy being Chris! Also, this:

And then there's the question: Who gets Karl?

Me! I vote me.

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
I already voted for me. But maybe we can share. ;-)

[identity profile] supasass.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
The ending to this story is brilliant - who needs to talk about the physical acts of falling into lust and more when 4 words will do - frozen, flightless, terrified. Consumed. Really great!

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you so much! Sometimes I think I err on the side of brevity, so it's nice to hear that it works sometimes.

[identity profile] sleepygoof8784.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
Gah. You are a back with a bang! This is fantastic. And I love that ending. So good. :)

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you!! &hearts

[identity profile] sleepygoof8784.livejournal.com 2011-02-03 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
*hugs*

Okay, um, how about McCoy/Chapel, or Chapel/Reaper

And this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xXD9-1mLBY

I was thinking particularly this lyric though:

Do you break things when you get mad
Eat a box of chocolate cause you're feeling bad
Do you paint your toes cause you bite your nails
And call up mama when all else fails

Who are you when I'm not around
When the door is locked and the shades are down
Do you listen to your music quietly
And when it feels just right are you thinking of me?

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-04 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
(Off prompt, as per my usual M.O. But, damn girl, you made me like the idea of Reaper...well, just read.)

Who Are You?

Chrissy Chapel is, and always has been, precocious and stubborn. Qualities to serve her well in academia but get in her trouble in the rest of her life, if her Mama is to be believed. Like any good precocious and stubborn student, Chrissy will have test this theory for herself.

Baton Rouge seems as good a place as any, especially since it is where she and her group of newly-graduated friends have come for a Saturday night of celebration. Drunkenness, at the very least. Debauchery, if she is lucky. A little bit of trouble, she thinks, smiling to herself, is not always a bad thing.

A few mostly harmless hours, and quite a few more drinks than that later, Chrissy deliberately breaks away from the group and goes in search of trouble.

She finds it alright. Or it - he - finds her. She will never be sure.

Hot, noisy, delicious trouble. Her skirt up around her waist, brick hard against her back, and the quiet dark-haired man with the wicked mouth and the deadly tattoo, hard and hot inside her. Scraping trouble across the night like wildcats.

- -

Chrissy is Christine now, still precocious and stubborn, still up for a little trouble when the time is right, but mostly just another focused cadet at Starfleet Academy.

The first Friday night of any semester is a christening of sorts - cadets flood into the city's bars and clubs, acting on the unofficial motto of any such institution: "Study hard. Party harder."

At first, she thinks it's a trick of the light, or maybe the two shots of Jack, but - is that? could that be Baton Rouge sidled up to the bar over there? A rush of memory makes her knees weak, the smells of sweat and sex and alcohol around her only heightening the sensation. She turns around, blinks, and looks again. Baton Rouge is gone.

- -

Three years later, she is sure that it's him. Or half sure. The same build and features - oh, that mouth - but so different from the man who had her in an alley in Baton Rouge a million years ago. He's loud and grumpy and his voice is full of drawl and he looks entirely more respectable somehow - clean-shaven and Fleet-worthy.

In the middle of the chaos, he's pushing up his shirtsleeves and she catches a glimpse of bare forearm - no evidence of a tattoo. Not that tattoos are hard to erase, but she remembers this one seemed engraved on the man's soul as his skin.

There is no more time for fanciful memory-driven thoughts. And Doctor McCoy gives no indication of recognizing or remembering.

- -

Cousins, she decides, or maybe even brothers, when there is finally a moment to think about something other than doing her job. That must be it. And there is nothing to say, whatever the truth is. You don't just walk up to your acting CMO, your boss, and say "I think I know you. You fucked me in Baton Rouge, years ago, when I was barely legal. Don't you remember?" No, some things, some memories were better left in the past.

- -

An away mission goes awry, as they often do, and Christine is patching up McCoy after he's patched up the captain, and she sees...something...in the dermal layers on the scan. A ghost, she thinks. Just as she's dismissing the notion and the memory - again - from her mind, she catches his eye. The something is there, too.

[identity profile] sleepygoof8784.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
ohhh I don't even care that it's off prompt. This is SUBLIME! I love it. Love it.

and this: "I think I know you. You fucked me in Baton Rouge, years ago, when I was barely legal. Don't you remember?" is like the best thing ever!

So awesome! Thanks, bb.

[identity profile] urbancate.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
I'm so glad you like! I have never written Reaper!Bones before, and it's never worked for me as an idea, really. But there it was - "Reaper/Chapel" - and the wheels started turning. So thank you!
ext_375859: (McCoy Wall)

[identity profile] izzyfics.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, this is awesome! I love the mystery surrounding reaper!Bones and how drawn she is to him.
ext_39897: Andrew Buchan as John Mercer, holding a gun (Jason - Laugh)

[identity profile] lamaudite.livejournal.com 2011-02-05 10:15 am (UTC)(link)
Yay!