g i n a

fuck you

2008-05-10T22:28:58Z

i hope you realize you're hurting more than just one person, you fucking pricks.

im leaving this lj.
and im only adding who i want.

man, oh man.

2008-05-01T18:26:13Z

im sitting here uploading our pictures.
wearing your shirt, that smells like you.
listening to the mix you made me.

it's pretty hard not to cry, even though i know i have every reason to be happy.
and i am, i am so fucking happy.
i just miss you so much.

san diego isn't even exciting to be back to. usually i love coming home after being away for a while. i love seeing the san diego palm trees and whatnot.

i didnt feel any of that.
instead i just felt dull and heavy.

san diego isn't where my heart is.

my heart is with you, in arizona.

with your smile.
with your kisses.
with your laugh.

i wish i could stop crying, because everything was perfect, right?
no reason to cry.
we found something amazing in one another, and if anything i should be celebrating.

i just want it to be june already.

thank you for the best few days of my life.
and thank you (in advance) for the best REST OF MY LIFE

(( because we're going to be together forever, right? :] ))

p.s - DOUCHE. take care of bden, jwalk, spin and ryro for me ;]
ESPECIALLY BDEN, lol ;]

fuck, i miss you. <3

here are the pictures.
heather, there are more. i'll just send the whole folder to you.

i love you.

It's that simple [s/a]

2008-04-21T08:13:47Z

Title: It's that simple
Author: aprettymouth
Rating: G
Pairing: Your choice.
POV: Any.
Summary: If you could, would you?
Disclaimer: Probably didn't/won't happen. But hey, it's possible.
Author Notes: Random inspiration by a Miyavi song. Just asking you take a look at it. It's not too long. Comments are encouraged. All writers love comments, I'm no different. I could probably develop this into something more, but I think it's better left as is.

Maybe it was a mistake.
Maybe what I'm feeling is regret.
Maybe, if I could, I'd go back in time and take a risk.

Maybe, just maybe, if I could, I'd let myself love him.

I look at the life I've lead, the woman I married, the children I have and I don't feel sorry for myself. I don't regret those things. I love my wife. I love my children more than anything; they’re beautiful.

I've experienced the world. I've seen the world. I've learned. I've lost. I've died and been reborn countless times. I've discovered who I am and lost it a few times over the years, but where I am right now, I can proudly say I am who I am and everything I have been through has made me so.

I look at all these things and I'm content. I'm happy with the choices I've made and the people I've ended up with.

I look at all these things and they make me happy. Happy.

But that doesn't explain why, when I look at him, I feel angry.

I feel used.
I feel jealous.
I feel remorse, regret, discomfort, and unhappiness.

I'm selfish. I know that. Who am I to complain with what I've got? A loving family holds no golden flame to an.. infatuation. A fling. A crush.

But who am I kidding?
It was so much more than that. It could have been so much more than that.

Now I just look at him.
Smiling, laughing, holding hands with his own young daughter.
Holding hands with... that other someone. That someone else. That other man.
That other man that, try as I might, I can't help but wish was me.

It should have been me. That should have been our child.

He told me he was in love with me.
I laughed.

He begged me to give him a chance.
I explained that there just wasn't any way that could ever happened.

He cried.
I lied.

He moved on.
I never let go.
I never forgot.

It took me years. Years to realize it was him I wanted. Him I longed to make smile. To make happy. It took me years.

One too many, apparently.

He moved on.
Can I blame him?

Don't get me wrong.
I love my wife. She's beautiful, she's smart, she's funny, and she's been there for me for as long as I can remember.

I pushed him away. I was scared.

It was a mistake.
I regret it.

If I could go back in time and change it.

I wouldn't.
Because in the end, nothing changes.
The way he smiles with his daughter now, the way he smiles with his someone else.

I wouldn't because I'm too afraid.
Nothing ever changes.

love lightly, dream hard [9]

2008-04-18T23:45:50Z

Title: love lightly, dream hard [nine]
Author: aprettymouth previously burnyourempire
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Brendon, implied Jon/Ryan
POV: changes between characters.
Summary: AU! This isn't your average battle of the bands. This is a way of life.
"I'm just not that into casual sex?"

Ryan laughs, "The only people that say that are the ones who've never had it."

Disclaimer: i own nothing but the plot.
Author's Note: Comments and critique are always more than welcomed. :] Sorry this took so long to update! I hope my readers haven't forgot about me. !!! I already have more chapters planned out, so the updates should be coming a lot more frequently.

It's something you have to witness for yourself..[1]
If there's one thing high school has taught me,it's that the past is the past..[2]
But that explanation definitely wasn't fitting. He's much, much worse..[3]
That was their rep. Their ability to fight, rather than their ability to play music..[4]
I ignore it like I do every other conscience feeling I get... [5]
This has to be flawless, because there's so much at stake here...[6]
I was just fine with hating him...[7]
The things I do for my band...[8]

Okay, I know.
I get it.
I'm a naive, stupid, lacking common sense, class A dumbass.

I've been telling myself that for the past two hours. I can basically feel Jon's hand bitch slapping me across the face for being so dumb. Why did I even get in the car? Why did I accept a ride home?
Why the fuck am I sitting next to Ryan fucking Ross, in the middle of his bedroom, trying to teach him how to play a song on a cheap keyboard? Honestly, I've liked buried myself into a deep, very deep, dark and dreary hole. A million times over. At any moment, I seriously expect Ryan's bedroom door to slam open and in come a group of east locals to destroy me. It's not even a pretty scene. Just me being pathetic and all hurt, and these kids laughing at the dumb teenager who accepted an invite into Ryan Ross' house.

Ryan Ross.
It's like accepting candy from old, skeevy men in faded blue vans. Only worse.

Even as my fingers dance across the cheap plastic keys and I can feel Ryan's eyes analyzing my every moment, secretly, I'm kind of glad to be where I am. Fucked up, right? I know. I don't even understand how I can calmly be sitting here, cracking a joke about his shitty keyboard like it's a normal thing to do. I'm just sort of hoping that there's another side of him. Maybe I can pull apart the different sides of the Almighty Ryan Ross and figure out what the fuck exactly is going on in his head.

Although, for the time being, I know this little plan of mine is basically impossible. How am I supposed to figure out what's going on in someone else's mind, let alone Ryan Ross', when I can't even figure out what the fuck I'm doing half the time. I'm just being that typical sappy guy that wants to believe there's good in everyone. But what's so wrong with that? I mean, I'm a good person. Surely Ryan just.. needs someone? To love and care about and all that shit.

Ugh, or maybe I just need to lay off the damned Lifetime movies.

"How did you learn to play?" Ryan asks from next to me, leaning over and watching my hands curiously. I stop playing and pull my hands into my lap. He leans back, his face expressionless and I shrug.

"Piano lessons when I was younger, but I caught on pretty fast so I didn't have them for long."

"Natural talent?"

"I'm just amazing."

Ryan scoffs at me and rolls his eyes. I grin, placing my fingers back on the keys. I don't play anything though, but just stare, lost in a daze.

"What else?"

"What else what?"

"Can you play."

"Piano, guitar, accordion, bass, drums..." I shrug. I love music, and not a lot of people understand that. It's the only reason I'm even involved in this whole thing. I just want to be able to play my music, get it out there, and have other people enjoy it as well. This whole Battle of the Bands shit is just a mild block to get where I want to be. I actually want to make something of myself, of my music.

"What the fuck?"

I shrug again, "I told you, I'm amazing."

Ryan just holds up a hand and shrugs off my comment. Pushing the keyboard off his lap, he stands up and stretches. I play a few more little tunes and ignore the fact he's hovering over me. It isn't until I start humming a tune along with the melody I'm playing he decides to say something.

"Just.. you know. About all of this.. make sure no one knows you're staying here."

I stop playing, a bit confused. He doesn't want people to know I'm here? What does he have to hide? I understand his reputation but... I shake my head and turn around, looking up at him. I sort of hate his face half the time. It's gorgeous, sure, but I never have any idea what the hell he's thinking. In a sense I almost admire it because I know I could never hide the way I feel. My emotions are always so readable.

"Oh.. well, yeah. I didn't plan on telling anyone."

He nods his head, "It'd just be better. For both of us. I mean, Jon would only murder you a few times over if he knew."

I shrug, "He's probably already worried. My cell phone was smashed on the ground while I was still in mid-conversation with him, so he probably is assuming the worst." And probably out looking for me. I should probably call him before he gets to my Mom. Last thing I need is for her to freak and have the cops out looking for me and shit. Kind of embarrassing.

"Such a Mom."

"Got a love him for it though."

Ryan's face momentarily glazes over in disgust and before I can really stop myself, I'm slowly hoisting myself up. It's obviously not a quick process because of my ribs and all Ryan does is watch me. When I'm finally up, I let out a small breath and look directly over to Ryan, who is standing with his arms crossed, a distant look in his eyes.

"What happened with you and Jon?"

He makes a face, "What do you mean? Nothing."

I laugh, "That's such bullshit. I know I may seem slow but I'm not a complete idiot."

Ryan snorts and I just roll my eyes.

"Seriously though. You both obviously hate each other. He gets all uptight and shit whenever you're even mentioned. And he's like.. dead set to make sure I don't get even like within a 5 foot radius of you. I want to know why."

Smirking, Ryan walks over to his door and opens it, "Well, Brendon, you can't always get what you want."

I'm disappointed, obviously, but I'm more caught up on the fact he just called me Brendon.

I follow Ryan out of his room and down the stairs. I have no idea what he's doing but I've been here for a good few hours now and I've mostly just been following him around like a lost puppy. I just figure if I stay close to him, nothing too bad can happen to me.

He takes a can of soda out of his fridge and looks over at me expectantly. I raise an eyebrow, "Have any juice?"

He shakes his head, "No."

I frown and just take a can of Dr. Pepper. What kind of house doesn't have any juice? He pops open his drink and I just stare at him. It's weird actually being in his presence, I have to admit. I mean, I only hear so much about him all the time. It's almost like he'd become more of a fairy tale than an actual person.

His Adam’s apple bobs its way up and down as he drinks from the can of soda and I swallow back my own sudden nervousness. He has a nice neck. Nicer than I should probably be thinking. All of him is pretty nice, actually. Physically, anyway.

I hear him smack his lips together and I blink away my thoughts, trying to focus back on the present. I run a hand through my hair and Ryan just stares back at me. I shrug my shoulders and decide to open my own drink. He lets out a small breath of.. I don't know. Whatever he might be feeling. I honestly can't really be sure.

"What do you usually do at this time?"

I shrug my shoulder, "I don't know. I do a lot of things."

Ryan narrows his eyes for a moment, "Well obviously your options aren't as broad right now."

I guess he does have a point. I glance around his kitchen and then back at the older boy. I smile wide, "Got any good movies?"

"I've got a few. What kind do you like?"

"Disney is always a good choice."

Ryan raises an eyebrow, "Speak for yourself."

He throws a bit of a hissy fit but eventually he finds an old, dusty copy of Mulan. I'm obviously satisfied with that because I mean, come on? That movie is pretty much as classic, even if it's not as old as some of the others.

It's at the part where the men and Mulan are singing about a girl worth fighting for. And come on, there's just no way I'd be able to resist singing along. So here we are, sitting on his sofa and I'm basically serenading Ryan is what may be one of the cheesiest Disney songs ever.

"I want her paler than the moon with eyes that shine like stars!" I sing, leaving over to Ryan and batting my eyelashes at him. He looks grossed out and just shakes his head, turning his attention back on the movie. I huff, but that obviously isn't going to stop me.

"My girl will marvel at my strength, adore my battle scars.." I wink at him, perking up my lips because I'm pretty sure there's a nice scab there from today's fight. And I can tell it's despite himself, but Ryan cracks a small smile.

"I couldn't care less what she'll wear or what she looks like..It all depends on what she cooks like: Beef, pork, chicken.."

I stop, shaking my head, "Who needs all that shit? Seriously? Now a girl that can cook some bomb ass chocolate cheese cake.. that'd be way more impressive."

I can tell it takes Ryan a moment to ask me this, but he does anyway.

"You like girls?"

I shake my head, "Ah, well. No."

He nods his head, looks me over for a moment and then looks back at the movie. It's really irritating when he does stuff like that. I sigh and lean back a little, staring back at the screen.

"Do you?" I ask, after a few seconds of needing to get the courage to even ask.

"Do I what?"

"Like girls?"

He shrugs his shoulders, "I'm indifferent."

"Well, do you like boys?"

I see the corners of his mouth twitch and he looks over at me with an unreadable expression. Then again, aren't they all?

"What if I do?"

"That's cool. I mean, it doesn't matter to me. I hear some stuff about you and William, so I just sort of assumed anyway."

"William hardly counts as a guy, to be honest."

I laugh, but I just hold back any real snarky remark because the last thing I need is to offend Ryan. I am in his domain or whatever.

"So are you guys like.. together?"

Ryan shakes his head and It's odd because there's some weird sort of relief in me. Why would it even matter? I figure it's just because I think it's hot and it's just normal instinct to hope that all the people you think are attractive are single. Even if you don't have any possible chance with them, you still just want them to be free. Yeah. That's it.

"I'd never date William, but he has wanted my nuts for years now."

"That's.. a little too much info."

"I'm sure you're used to it."

I just shrug.

"You must like the attention you're getting though, right? I mean, I remember when I first got into the East band. It was just dick and pussy everywhere, I was so overwhelmed. Everyone wanted me. They still do."

I know what he means but it honestly doesn't appeal to me. I'm still a virgin, but I'm obviously going to keep that to myself. It seems like High school was more 'sex, drugs, and rock n roll' than I had thought it'd be. At least it was once I moved here.

"Oh yeah. It's uh, it's pretty awesome."

"Doesn't sound like you're too stoked about it."

I just shrug again, something I've been doing a lot since I've been here. Why does Ryan make me so unsure of myself? I swallow back, thinking about what Jon had told me when I first had to go to Ryan's Mom's for dinner. There's a cocky asshole in here somewhere. Right. Well, where the fuck is he now?

"I'm just not that into casual sex?"

Ryan laughs, "The only people that say that are the ones who've never had it."

Now I just feel like a loser, and I shouldn't. I have fucking.. beliefs and shit! I want sex to mean something. I want to be in love and all that cheesy, cliché crap that you see in movies. Maybe it's stupid to have those sorts of dreams but whatever. It's just who I am. I'll be damned if I let someone, especially Ryan, make me feel bad I haven't fucked half my school population.

"There's no appeal to it, honestly. Sex would be a million times better with someone you actually care about than just some random person. I can almost promise you that."

Pretty sure it's obvious I've never had sex now, but oh well. Too late.

Ryan looks thoughtful for a moment and then laughs.

"I wouldn't be able to tell you, either way. For all I know, you might be right." He almost looks...upset?

I blink my eyes a few times. What was that supposed to mean? He's never been in love? He's never had sex with someone he even remotely cared about? I guess it makes sense. Jon did say he was heartless. I shake my head. I feel really confused and lost. I've heard so many horrible things about Ryan, and yet here we are on his sofa.. where he's been taking care of me all day, having this conversation and he actually looks freakin' upset.

"You've never been with someone you care about?"

"How could I when I've never cared about anyone?"

I just shake my head, "You have to care about .. I mean, there just has to be someone you've loved or even just had a huge, major crush on. We're teenagers, teens crush!"

Ryan looks down at his hands, shaking his head. His chest heaves in and out, and he bites his lip. Maybe it's a farfetched assumption but for some reason it was the first thing that comes to mind. It's sort of a sad sight, to be honest. I get the feeling Ryan probably never has had anyone special in his life. I feel my body reaching out to him, but I stop myself from literally doing it. I can't be compassionate with him, I just can't. He's Ryan fucking Ross. I really do hate myself right now.

"How did you end up on the East?"

Ryan shrugs, "I didn't end up here. I'm from here."

"Your Mom lives on the West though."

"Wow, nice one, Sherlock."

"I'm serious. How does that work out?"

Ryan shakes his head, "It honestly doesn't matter. Shit happens."

I kind of hate that saying, but whatever. I glance over at the clock, and it's almost 10pm. My Mom has probably called the U.S Army to go look for me. Oops.

"I should probably call my Mom. I'll tell her I'm staying with you. She thinks you're an angel."

Ryan laughs and hands me his cell phone. I dial my house phone and my Mom picks up, already sounding pissed off.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry. I'll be home on Monday after school, just gonna stay here for the weekend."

She's babbling away about clean undies and shit and I hope Ryan can't hear because damn, that's a bit embarrassing. Just when we're about to hang up, I hear someone knock on the door and she answers. My Mom is kind of ADD sometimes. She probably doesn't even realize I'm still on the phone with her. I listen in lazily, not trying to be nosy but it happens.

"Oh hey, Jon!" I hear my mother’s voice and I sit up at once. Oh shit.

"No he's not here. He's at Ryan Ross' house. Here, he's on the phone. Want to speak with him? Here, Brendon, It's Jon." She says into the phone but I hang up. Jon is going to murder me, holy shit.

Ryan notices the look on my face and tilts his head to the side questioningly.

"Jon. My Mom just told him where I was."

"That sucks. He'll probably be here in oh.. I give him about 10 minutes…depending on whether or not if he decides red lights are important at the moment."

I groan, "Why is he so worried about you? What's he afraid you'll do to me?"

The look that spreads across Ryan's face is one I know I'll never forget. It's spiteful, but it's so sorry at the same time. Almost like he's disgusted with himself. he scrunches his nose and then whatever might have been coursing through his emotions just fades completely, and he's back to being his normal calm and collected self.

He chuckles, "Probably thinks I'm going to get you killed."

I laugh, slightly uneasily, but I mean.. how ridiculous would that be? I know it happened in the past to that guy Danny.. but.. This is Ryan. Ryan couldn't be like that. I mean, for Christ's sake, he nursed my fucking wounds.

There's that feeling again in the pit of my stomach. It gets stronger all the time, and it sucks. I just know there's so much more to what's really going on. No one wants to tell me though. No one ever fucking wants to tell me anything.

(Jon's POV)

I'm fuming, I'm fucking shaking. I'm basically crying. That fucking Kid. I swear to God, he's got to be the stupidest person I've ever met in my entire life. This isn't just some fucking innocent game. Why the fuck would he go with Ryan. ANYWHERE?

I hear the wheels of my car screech against the pavement as I make a sharp turn into the East. My heart is racing because, damnit. Who knows what could have happened. What might be happening? I might be overreacting, but I can't help myself. I care about that idiot more than I want to even think about right now.

It takes about 3 minutes to get to Ryan's house but I swear to God that felt like a fucking hour. I don't close my door to the car; instead I just run towards the front door and push it open. No fucking shame right now, I need to get Brendon the fuck out of here.

"Brendon!" I call, and I walk into their kitchen. I don't know my way around Ryan's Dad's house like I do his Mom's but it's still easy to find them. They're on the sofa. Brendon's face is a fucking mess. My breathing is heavy and without thinking I march right over to Ryan and pull him off the sofa by the collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? Are you fucking insane? How dare you. How dare you go anywhere near him."

Ryan doesn't look the least bit phased by the fact I'm basically screaming in his face and he just places his long fingers over my clenched fists that are clutching his shirt. He sighs and shakes his head.

"You're overreacting, Walker. He's obviously OK."

I have a bad temper, I admit that, but fuck this. I throw Ryan as hard as I can into the wall nearby and a few picture frames fall to the ground and shatter. Brendon grunts from behind me and I glance back at him. He's struggling to even get up on his feet. My eyes widened for a moment and I turn back to Ryan, clenching my fists tighter around his collar.

"What did you do to him?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

I look at Brendon who is walking over to us quickly now. He placed a hand on mine and shakes his head.

"Don't! Jon, let him go!" Brendon's pulling my hands away and I just look at him like he's crazy.

"What?"

Brendon pulls but he's obviously weak in his state.

"Let him fucking go. He didn't do anything. He fucking helped me, Jon, okay?"

My grip tightens. I can't believe that. I seriously can't. Ryan wouldn't help Brendon. He wouldn't. His fucking brain doesn't work that way. I laugh.

"That's fucking bullshit. This is fucking bullshit. You want me to believe this heartless fucking asshole would actually help you? You don't even know what the fuck you're getting yourself into Brendon."

"Well maybe I would if people actually started telling me things for once!"

Ryan laughs and clicks his tongue, "You can't even be honest with him, Jon? Hm?"

I push Ryan against the wall again, "Fuck you. Don't ever go near him again. You hear me?"

"What are you so afraid of?"

I just lose it. I push him and he falls to the ground. Brendon yells at me and tries to go to Ryan but I pull him back. I shake my head, "Leave him. He's not worth it. Trust me. I know he may seem like all sugar and good intentions but he's not. He's playing you like a board game Brendon, don't let him or you'll give him exactly what he wants."

Brendon shakes his head but he stops fighting me. He turns away from Ryan, his head held down. We're almost out of the living when I hear Ryan call out to Brendon.

"Don't believe everything he tells you, Brendon. Unrequited love makes everyone bitter."

My heart stops. How fucking dare he even... how could he? I pull Brendon out of the house and help him into the car, the whole time my heart beating so loudly I'm sure anyone within a few miles can hear it loud and clear. My eyes are watering again, and when I get into the car I clenched the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are quickly turning white.

We sit in silence for a few moments, and I'm sure Brendon is as confused as he looks. His face is all clenched tightly together, and his brown eyes are focused straight ahead of him. He's hardly even blinking.

I start up the car and drive off, before finally Brendon speaks.

"Pull over."

I don't question him and just pull over on the side of the road.

I sigh and he turns to look at me, his face tight and determined. I swallow back and look down at my hands.

"I want you to tell me everything. Right fucking now. I'm tired of this beat around the bush bullshit. I want answers. How can you expect me to be in a band I know absolutely nothing about? I feel like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. Maybe it's best I don't know, but I don't care. I can't fucking be in this band If I don't even know who you are, Jon. I can't be your friend if I don't know who you are."

I rub my eyes which are red from the almost tears that have been threatening to pour out. I sigh, shaking my head. I know Brendon deserves the truth. But I don't know what's holding me back. I have no reason to be ashamed of it, but.. Ryan does. And for some reason, for some fucking reason, there's a small part of me that cares.

"Ask, and I'll tell you. Whatever you want to know."

Brendon lets out a breath and he looks relieved. I can tell he's working away at trying to find the right questions and I just sit, staring at my hands.

"How did Ryan end up on the East?"

"He used to live in the West, with his Mom and Dad. They split, he went to live with his Dad in the East."

"Ryan told me he was from the East."

"He lied. Don't you get it? He fucking lies. It's what he does."

"Why? I know there's more to it Jon. Don't fucking make this harder than it needs to be."

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders. It's harder than I thought. I can't even find the right words. It's seriously tearing me apart and I don't even know why. I'm meant to not give a shit about that asshole.

"Look Brendon..I'll just.. tell you. I'll tell you what you should know, and what you deserve to know. The finer details don't matter, alright? After I tell you this, you need to just be satisfied with it and forget about Ryan Ross, alright? You have to trust me."

Brendon looks apprehensive for a moment but I look at him pleadingly and he nods his head.

"Ryan and me.." I sigh, I don't even like the way that sounds. I shake my head, I just have to get through this.

"We were best friends. Known each other since birth, all that shit. So yeah.. then you know, 6th grade came and the Bands in Sleep City formed, along with the Battle. Me and Ryan were so into it. We had all these dreams about playing in the West band together. How we were going to win Battle every year. We were so excited, and we had it all planned out, ya know? It was our own mini dream, and we were going to do it together."

I look over at Brendon and he's watching me so closely. I look into those eager brown eyes and smile a little.

"You remember Danny.. right?" Brendon nods his head, probably recalling the time I'd told him all about him. I gulp and bite my bottom lip. The words are trying to run away from me but I won’t let them.

"Danny.. well. Danny is..or, he was my older Brother."

Brendon gasps from next to me, as if right on cue and I shake a hand at him. It doesn't work though and Brendon is pulling me into a tight embrace. Rubbing his hand on my back soothingly. I pull away and I just want to get this story finished with.

"Danny was my older brother so it was pretty much a for sure thing I'd make it into the West band. I mean, I'm a fucking legends brother. Of course I was going to make it. Ryan.. Ryan had a bit of a hard time. He was always worried about getting in. And to be honest, I wasn't actually sure he would. There wasn't an opening for another guitarist in the West band when we were about to go into High school. I don't really know why or how it happened but Ryan got just... obsessed with the bands. It scared me a lot because he was just so fucking determined, ya know? I don't really know what happened but.. I guess some of the kids from the East talked to Ryan.. asked him a few things, told him that if he helped them out he'd have automatic entry into the East band.."

I bury my hands in my face, shaking my head.

"He was so fucking stupid, Brendon. I don't even know why he would agree to it. Part of me wants to believe it was an accident. That he didn't know what was going to happen but.. My brother died. He died, and Ryan was the one that told them where to find him."

I have tears down my face, and I'm suddenly getting so pissed off again. My hands are shaking and Brendon unbuckles his seatbelt to move closer to me. He wraps me up as best as he can with his hurt ribs and I just cry into his shoulder.

"He was my best friend and he sold my brother out to those fucking kids just so he could be in a band. A fucking band. My brother. My best friend..."

"You lost them both.." Brendon speaks and he's pulling my head back to wipe away the tears from my face. I wouldn't let him if I wasn't so fucking torn up right now.

"Is that why you're so worried about Ryan being around me?"

I nod my head, "I don't want to lose you like I lost Danny."

"Ryan won't hurt me."

"He'll try to, Brendon, he will. No matter what he tells you. What he might make you believe... it doesn't matter. He's selfish, and all he wants to do is win. You can't trust him.. ever. Please, promise me you'll stay away from him?"

Brendon nods his head, biting his lip, "Were you in love with Ryan?"

I laugh, all bitter and disgust, "I thought I was."

Brendon just pulls me tighter and closer to him, rubbing my back. I have no idea how much time goes by, but I don't ever want this to end. Brendon may be young and innocent, but being there in his arms, I feel like he's taking all the shit that's happened away and replacing it with something warm. Something inviting.

"Promise me though, Brendon.. please. I need you to promise."

Brendon kisses my cheek and sits back in his chair, "I promise. I'll stay away from Ryan."

OMFG

2008-04-12T08:39:43Z

BRB, GETTING READY FOR PANIC!

My Boy Lollipop

2008-04-08T22:29:53Z

Title: My Boy Lollipop
Author: aprettymouth previously, burnyourempire
Rating: nc-17
Pairing: Brendon/Jon
POV: Jon's POV
Summary: Ice cream, that's all I have to say.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened (to my knowledge). But damm, I want a video of it if it ever has/will happen!
Author Notes: I'm sort of contemplating doing a small series of standalone involving Brendon and some type of junk food. We'll see. This fic was inspired (lol!) and written for my girlfriend. She came through with her side of the bargain, so heres mine. Enjoy!

And seriously, you'd think a sweet guy like Brendon would be a bit more submissive when it came to sex. You'd think.

You'd be wrong.

"Does this look good?"

I feel the breath in my throat hitch nice and tight. If only Brendon knew just how good it looks. I nod my head, and Brendon gives me the most devilish look that makes my stomach flutter around in ten different directions all at once.

Brendon stops what he's doing and pouts, shaking his head, "That's not a real answer, Jon.."

I laugh hoarsely and sit up, pressing my lips against Brendon's softly. His mouth is covered in sticky, sweet ice cream and the combination of his warm lips, the cold substance and his slick, warm tongue which is lightly poking at my bottom lips is seriously mind-blowing.

See, there's something you should know about Brendon Urie.

Brendon always goes through little phases with his junk food.

Sometimes he goes a week eating nothing but sour patch kids.

Sometimes he goes a week devouring skittles and starbursts.

It's pretty common and none of the guys really pay much attention to it. It's just Brendon, after all.

Admittedly though, I have a pretty hard time ignoring some of the phases he goes through. Mostly the kind that involves some sort of sweet being licked and/or sucked.

But can you really blame me?

This week, of course, this week just had to be ice cream. I don't know how it happened, I don't know when it happened or why. And I just don't give a fuck. Right now, all that matters to me is the fact that Brendon is half-naked on top of me, his legs straddling either side of me as I lie on the ground in my bedroom.

I should be totally honest about something though.

Whether or not this makes me a bad person, I have no idea, but we're all sinners at the end of the day right? And it's not like I forced him into this...

All I did was invite him over.
After making sure I looked damn good.
After making sure my freezer was stocked with at least 3 different kinds of ice cream and popsicles.
After I made sure to rent one of those really sappy kids movies that Brendon likes that make him all uber cuddly.

Yeah, Okay, so this was totally set up and my intentions were far from innocent when I put it all together.

But like I said, can you honestly, really blame me? If you could see what I'm seeing right now, which is a drop dead fucking gorgeous sight, there's no way in hell you'd be able to reprimand me for my actions. In fact, you'd probably tell me to move the hell over so you could get in on the action.

"It looks..it tastes..it's fucking..amazing," I manage to breathe out against his lips that are still pressed against mine. I can feel his smile and he pulls back, eyebrow raised and that devilish look back on his face.

The melted vanilla ice cream bar he has in his hand is melting all over his hand but Brendon doesn't look the least bit phased by he. Instead he laps up the sticky substance from his knuckles. A trail of white is left long the length of his tongue and the corners of his lips and there's no doubt in my mind what I'm wishing that was.

I swallow back and Brendon seductively pushed the entire bar into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on the ice cream. I close my eyes, imagine my cock is that bar of ice cream. Brendon's full lips wrapped tightly around it, the tip of my cock meeting the back of his warm through.

"You're not looking," I hear Brendon pout and I open my eyes. There's vanilla ice cream dripping down his chin and his big, brown eyes are all sad and wide. He wants the attention, he needs it. And those lips. Oh God, those lips.

For those of you who may never get a chance to witness something that looks this good, I pity you because it's definitely something everyone should experience at least once. I'm pretty sure I can die happy now from just this view alone.

"That's better," Brendon grins, going back to licking and sucking on the ice cream. His tongue drags along the side, leaving a trail of ice cream along the center of his tongue. He licks his lips and seriously, I can't watch this anymore.

At this point, I just have to have him. Fuck the ice cream, fuck the foreplay, I just want Brendon.

Sitting up quickly, I wrap my arm around Brendon's bare upper body and dip him backwards. He doesn't look at all surprised at my sudden attack and goes along with it, his ice cream covered lips perked into a devious little grin. I shift onto my knees so that now I'm hovering over him.

I lick my lips, staring at his cherry red ones and he laughs.

"Awe, Jon, you're so cute," he tells me, giggling to himself. He places the palm of his hand against my cheek and I bite my bottom lip nervously.

"And you're dead fucking sexy right now," I tell him, and he pouts. Damn those fucking lips.

"Only right now?"

"No, just especially right now."

Brendon seems happy with this response and I feel his legs straddle each side of me. He's got a tight grip and before I know it, he's pushing me over and rolling so that he's straddling me once again.

Not that I'm complaining.

I feel a warm hand slide up under my shirt and I get all breathless just at the feel of his skin on mine, even if it is just his hand. He tugs at the shirt a few times, looking irritated and annoyed and I understand what he wants. So I take it off and toss it to the side. He gives me his smile nod of approval and bends over, placing sticky kisses all along my stomach.

He nips at my belly button, and I feel like cool flick of his tongue against my skin. I sigh and he keeps kissing. His lips are traveling up to my chest, to my neck and finally he's hovering over my lips.

"You like ice cream, don't you?" he asks and of course I just nod my head. Right now, I like just about anything that involves Brendon in any shape, way, or form.

Brendon lifts his hand, which is absolutely covered in melted vanilla ice cream at this point and holds it to my bottom lip. I part my lips slightly, and he drags the bar along my bottom lip. The cold sensation gives me the chills and I can feel my heart beat kick a few beats faster.

"Mmm, that looks good.." he tells me before leaning down and lapping up the ice cream he had smeared on my lips with his own tongue. Everything is all warm and cold at the same time and my body is going crazy trying to figure out how to react. All I know right now is that I have the biggest hard-on and something needs to be done about that.

Unable to really hold back much of anything anymore, I buck my hips up into Brendon and moan. This obviously must have been the right thing to do because I feel his tongue plunge into my mouth and in a moment's notice we're playing the hottest game of tongue wrestle I ever have. Brendon's mouth is warm and I can feel his lips slick against mine as the dried up ice cream melts with our saliva. A low growl elicits from Brendon's throat and I meet it with my own husky purring.

"Jon.." Brendon breathes as he pulls away only enough to catch his breath, but our lips are still touching. I swallow, the sweetness of our kiss traveling down my throat and lingering on my taste buds.

"I want more."

I place my hands on either side of Brendon's hips and shake my head, "More what?"

Inwardly, I'm really hoping that he doesn't mean ice cream. The one in his hand is basically gone. It's melted and dripped onto his hand, his arm, my stomach and chest. Brendon notices me looking at the ice cream and he shakes his head.

"I want more of you."

Heart attack.

All I'm thinking now is something along the lines of 'Thank fucking Christ.'

"Finally," I breathe out, sitting up again. I take the stick of ice cream from his hand and he's grinning from ear to ear. It's slightly unnerving sometimes. In even the sexiest of situations Brendon can still manage to look like an adorable, excited little child. Maybe it's fucked up, and maybe I'll go to hell for even thinking this, but honestly, all it does is make me want him more.

Brendon lays back on the ground, spreading out his arms and sighing in content as I place little pecks along his hips. I feel the cold vanilla dripping down my knuckles and I smirk. With my free hand, I unbutton Brendon's jeans, pulling down the zipper. I kiss along the waist band of his bright red boxers, carefully sliding the tips of my fingers under to pull those down just enough. Brendon helps by lifting his bottom half up, and the jeans and boxers slide down. I tug on them till they're at his ankles, where he proceeds to kick them off completely.

I can't even coherently appreciate the sight in front of me.

What I said earlier about Brendon on top of me being the best thing I've ever seen in my life?

Yeah, that was a lie. Because a completely nude Brendon underneath me, laying there for me to do as I please... well that, my friends, is beyond the best fucking thing.

"Gah, fuck.." I mutter, licking my lips and admiring Brendon's excitement. He shifts a little under my gaze and my eyes flick up to his brown orbs which are staring back at me with a mixture of excitement and something else I can't decipher. He smiles at me and I smile back.

"Touch me, please," he asks politely, and who am I to turn down such a lovely request? I nod my head, dipping it down against to kiss the area of his skin just above his pubic region. Bringing my now ice cream covered hand forward, I lightly place what's left of it around Brendon's bellybutton.

He hisses at the sensation and squirms as I continue to drag it along the length of his stomach. Up to his breast, back down to his hips. I keep going lower down to the top of his thigh where I twist my wrist and drag the ice cream towards his inner thigh. Brendon moans and I wish I look up at him, his chest rising and falling more rapidly by the second.

I bring the ice cream back up to my lips, and suck what's left of it off the stick before tossing it to the side. Bending back down, I slide my body lower against Brendon's. I can see the light sticky trail of ice cream I left on his thigh and I don't hesitate a second longer to begin licking it up.

Brendon's skin feels like silk against my tongue, and his thigh only gets warmer and warmer as I travel upwards.

"Keep going.. Keep going.." he urges me on as I reach his balls. I kiss each one gently before pressing my lips against the base of his cock. I feel Brendon's hands in my hair, tugging roughly but that only makes me want to keep going.

I let my tongue explore every inch of his length and when it reaches the top, I pull myself up before taking him in my mouth completely. Maybe it's just the ice cream getting to my brain but I swear to God that every fucking inch of Brendon tastes sweeter than anything I ever have before.

It makes me excited for the end result of me sucking him off will be like.

Brendon's hips jerk upwards at once, and I gag for a moment taken slightly aback. Brendon is twisting and grinding up into my mouth, his hands in my hair pushing and pulling me greedily. My hands are resting on each of his hips, gripping them tightly and rising as falling each time he thrusts up into my mouth.

The room is filled with Brendon's moans, babbles of curse words and my slurps and smack of lips as I suck him off. He has this thing for bucking his hips up really quickly, and I keep gagging but I actually think he likes it. In which case, makes me like it because oh God, if you could hear the sounds he was making right now.

"I'm.. I'm.." and suddenly my mouth is filled with warm spurts of his come. He continues to thrust up into my mouth and I suck through his orgasm, doing my best to swallow as much as his come as I can.

And yeah, the end result. Fucking delicious.

Brendon shudders, his legs twitching as I slide up next to him. We're both panting as if we've just ran a marathon. Brendon turns on his side and moves closer to me, kissing my neck.

"Mmmm," he hums next to my ear. I'm still trying to catch my breath and re-cooperate but it seems that Brendon's ready for part two. He's already hastily removing my pants, not bothering to be all too gentle. I don't even get a chance to push my pants all the way off my ankles when suddenly I feel a tight grip around my erection.

"Ah," I gasp, closing my eyes and enjoying the friction that I've been longing for since Brendon even arrived at my house. Brendon is panting in my ear, and I can feel the sweat forming on both of our naked bodies. His chest is against mine, and the dried up ice cream on his body is getting all slick again, making everything just that much more sexy.

"Mm, fuck, Brendon.."

Brendon responds by pulling faster at my cock, making me shudder and press myself into his hand as hard as I can. I can feel his hot breath against my ear, and he keeps nipping at my earlobe. My brain feels so fried right now.

My hands find Brendon's hips again, and I stroke his side, wanting to explore more of his silky, warm body. My hands travel everywhere and anywhere. His chest, his back, his neck, his thighs, his warms, his cock until finally I reach his plump ass.

Now I just feel like an idiot because why did I not pay any attention to this before? I grope at his back side and even though I'm sure it's not possible right now, I feel myself get even more turned on.

Bringing my hands up to Brendon's lips, he teases the tip of my fingers with his tongue. I know they taste like vanilla ice cream and I'm hoping that it'll make him do what I need him to. I drag my finger along his lower lip and when he pulls my finger into his mouth with his tongue, I'm basically thanking any possible God that I can at this point.

His tongue is lathering up my fingers and I push another one into his mouth. I'm on such a fucking nerve overload right now that I'm a bit shocked I haven't had actually died by now. Brendon's hands are now slowly tugging at my cock, teasing me with the pace but at the same time making me feel so good.

I pull my fingers out of his mouth and there's a small string of saliva that comes out along with it. Gah, this boy doesn't even know how fucking gorgeous he is. For a moment he looks unsure of what I'm going to do when I push him down onto his back but when I pull his legs apart he's seemed to have caught on.

Brendon closes his eyes and positions his arm more comfortably so that he still has a good grip on my cock. Leaning over him, the sound of his hand slapping against his own leg each time he jerks at me filling the room. I lick my lips and place two of my fingers at his entrance, glancing over at him for a moment just to make sure that he's OK with it. His eyes are still closed, but he opens his legs wider and that's good enough for me.

Pushing my hand forward, I wiggle my way into him against the resistant muscle. A small whimper escapes Brendon's lips but I keep going because I know I can make this feel good. I give another good push and now I'm completely inside of him.

Together now, we're both panting and squirming against each other's bodies. The way we're positioned next to each other is making this hard work, causing both of us to pant and sweat. Our bodies are sliding up against each other and we've developed a rhythm. He pulls and I wiggle and thrust my fingers up into him.

"Shit. Ngh," Brendon moans, his eyes pinching tightly closed. I know I've hit the exact spot I've needed to.

"Right there?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

He nods his hair, "Yeah, right.. there.. fuck.." He gasps with each words, each thrust of my fingers I send his way. For a moment he stops jacking me off and I can tell he's lost control of his own thoughts at the moment.

I nibble at the side of his neck, the salty taste of sweat evading my mouth. I nibble a bit harder and I know there'll probably be a bruise but I don't think Brendon really minds at this point.

He's pulling at me again and the way my stomach tightens I just know that I'm not going to last any longer. I push my body against his, by my coarse and rigid breathing, Brendon catches on to what's about to happen.

He pulls faster, his grip tighter than it has been this entire time and my body can't hold back anymore. My brain has a complete and total melt down as my body explodes from sensory overload.

I come into Brendon's hand and he guides me through my orgasm much like I did his.

We both lay there for a few moments, both on our backs and exhausted. We're panting and smiling and when I turn my head to look at Brendon he's already looking at me with a cute smile on his face.

I suddenly feel slightly guilty that I basically planned this whole thing out, but at the same time, he went along with it, right? I bite my lip and look up at the ceiling.

"I have to be honest with you, B, I kind of..."

"What?" he asks me, turning on his side and resting his head into the palm of his hand. I look at him and shrug my shoulders.

"I kind of invited you over here for more than just movie watching and ice cream."

He laughs, "Obviously."

I laugh too and shake my head, "I mean.. it was my intention to.. well, you know," I nod my head over at his naked body and Brendon just laughs a bit more. He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose.

"You're so adorable, Jon walker."

I can't help but smile a bit, "So you're not mad?"

Brendon just grins and stands up, placing his hands on his hips, "Mad? Why do you think I agreed to come over in the first place?" He winks at me and I just stare up at him slightly dumbfounded.

He laughs again and turns around towards the kitchen. When he looks back, he waggles his eyebrows.

"Now.. what other flavors do you have?"

it doesn't need to make sense, you just have to understand it.

2008-03-30T02:19:45Z

i only know how to be me.

i only know how to smile, like me.
i only know how to care, like me.
i only know how to love, like me.

what i can't understand is how i've done nothing except be myself.
i can't control the way i feel, and i guess unfortunately for some, i don't know how to hide my feelings as well as i'd like.

it was never my intention to ruin anything, it was never my intention to step in the middle of something that should have never fallen apart to begin with.

the only thing i ever want for anyone, including myself if there's a possibility of it, is happiness.

i don't want to spend my life feeling bad about the choices i've made, or the people i've loved, or the things i have tried to do. i only want what any normal person would, and that's to be happy and i want those i love and care about to be happy as well.

things don't always go our way, and sometimes we just have to learn to make the best of it. i learned that the hard way plenty of times, and in the end you just have to realize that the most you can do is keep the world as positive as you can, even if that means that you have to sacrifice a few things yourself.

people come and go in your life like day and night.
feelings change almost as frequently as you change your clothes.

it's about being strong and making the best decision you can not only for yourself, but for everyone it'll effect in your life as well.

i wont apologize for being me. for existing and living my life the way i do, because all i've ever done is try to be the best friend i could be. the best girlfriend i could be. the best sister, the best daughter.

there is no wrong in that, but i am sorry if you, or anyone, happen to see it differently.

---

aprettymouth @ 2008-03-28T03:13:00

2008-03-28T10:15:19Z

i'm pretty open about who i add.
comment if you'd like, or just add me, and i'll add you back most likely.