TAI TV and other fictions
Happy belated Beltane!
Hi there, sorry I'm at skip=one million, you know how it is once the first big bang due date rolls around. I look forward to the day I no longer have gmail, three googledocs, and five community posts open in my browser window.
(P.S. Dear fanmixer, if you guess my secret identity and see this, I apologize for all of the specific song references in the fic. Just ignore them. I am much more excited to hear what you come up with. :-D)
I have been watching television lately! Craziness! At the moment, I am most amused by the Carolina Liar rotating song-of-the-week on Greek (not that I watch Greek *cough*) and oh my god, the funeral episode (that's not a spoiler, is it?) on Bones made me actually cry with laughter. I had to keep getting up and walking away because I was shrieking out loud. Amazing.
Okay, I am not saying anything, really, but I'm just saying, disarm_d is spoon-feeding me snippets of what already one of my favourite stories ever and I am totally in love with it. Again, not saying anything, just...you might want to watch that space.
Before the big bang madness began, adellyna asked me if I would write some quick OTP fic for her, and I told her to give me half an hour. So here you go.
Gabe/William, G, fiction.
Gabe is napping in the Academy’s lounge when they come back from their mysterious midday expedition, because as much as he loves Pete’s bus, these are his boys. Thus he’s the first - and possibly only - person to witness when William tromps up the stairs at the head of the pack wearing an actual, honest-to-god, frilly pink dress.
“Holy shit,” Gabe says, sitting straight up and blinking to make sure this isn’t a post-drunken hallucination. It’s been a few hours since the hangover quit, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
William startles badly when Gabe speaks, and his hands do a strange fluttering dance of trying to cover up his chest, then legs, then face, before he crosses his arms. The body language is probably supposed to be aggressive and resolute, but Gabe sees right through that shit into defensive.
“Don’t even think it,” William says warningly.
“Too late,” Gabe informs him cheerfully, because he’s thought about two hundred things in the past eight seconds, and William would probably object to all of them. “Did you lose a bet?”
“TAI TV,” Butcher declares, pushing past William with total disregard for his choice of wardrobe.
“What are you doing, America’s Next Top Band Member?” Gabe asks.
Adam gives him a thoughtful look. Butcher says, “No, but…”
“Dibs,” Gabe jumps in immediately, cutting him off.
William frowns a little. “We should never have said you could do the Cobra Cam, you’re stealing all of our episode ideas.”
“Hey, that one was mine, fair and square,” Gabe defends, blithely ignoring the part where he stole two of their ideas just last week. They worked better for Cobras, anyway.
Much like this one. He’s going to make a killer Tyra.
“So what’s the deal?” he asks, chowing down when Adam sits next to him and offers Cheetos. Like Gabe is going to turn down Cheetos. “Mary Had A Little Band? Little Bill Peep?”
“Dirty,” Mike says from somewhere behind the rest of the guys, his head in the cabinet.
“It’s a nursery rhyme,” William tells him, much aggrieved.
“So?” Mike says. “Children’s stories are way dirty. Why not nursery rhymes?”
Gabe gives up and raises his eyebrows at Michael. As entertaining as this is, he recognizes William’s stalling for what it is, and he really wants to know what the deal is. As the rule goes; when in doubt - or when William is employing evasive maneuvers - go after Chiz.
As expected, Michael folds like a hand of cards. “This year’s fan-written episode,” he explains, and Gabe still gets a kick out of the way Michael says fan. “Second annual contest. Revenge of the fans.”
“Oh, and what a revenge it was,” Butcher adds. “Ladies and gentlemen, TAI TV presents: The Academy Is: Riot Grrrls.”
Gabe makes a whooping, strangled snorting noise. “Heavens to Betsy,” he says solemnly once he recovers, and then cracks up again when William narrows his eyes.
“Bill was opposed to the idea,” Adam informs him, “but we took a vote, and he was outnumbered four to one.”
Gabe has been around the Academy for long enough to know that while they all love him, the rest of the band occasionally gets revenge on William in strange, twisted ways for the many times he drives them all batshit crazy. This is looking like one of those instances.
“Four to one, really?” Gabe asks, with faux-innocence.
“Then Mike defected, and Bill tried to claim two votes, as lead singer,” Butcher says. “So we called Tom as a tie-breaker, who we agreed gets half a vote as an ex-member.”
“And it was unanimous,” Adam proclaims, even though it obviously wasn’t.
“Conrad voted to put video of you in a skirt on the Internet?” Gabe asks, with wide eyes. “I’m shocked.”
William rolls his eyes. “Me too,” he says with heavy irony.
“I still say you Americans are repressed,” Michael says. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You are a brave man,” Gabe tells him, because he doesn’t even live on this bus and he’s still pretty sure William would make his life hell if he voted for a fan episode about William running around in a skirt and pigtails.
“It’s for a good cause,” Michael says, shrugging, and if Gabe didn’t know him better, he’d totally have missed the glint in his eye. “Third-wave feminism. Universal female identity.”
“I support women in music,” William says, like any of them ever doubted that. “But I don’t think this is really furthering their goals.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gabe drawls, leaning back with one arm tucked behind his head. “Maybe with a little more eyeliner, some fishnets and a bad dye job.”
“We’re talking about me in a dress, not your latest wet dream,” William informs him in a tone dry enough to parch an oasis.
Gabe leers at him, because William should really know better than to give him that kind of opening. “Maybe you are my wet dream,” he says. “Ay Mamacita.”
“I don’t think the feminists would appreciate that,” William replies, in a tone that Gabe recognizes as trying for ‘dignified.’ Too late for dignity, Gabe thinks. There’s a pink frilly dress involved.
“Is this really Riot Grrrl gear?” he asks critically, tapping his lower lip.
“You’re just angling for the fishnets,” Mike says, coming back to join them with a fresh beer in his hand. “We’re onto you.”
“If the stocking fits,” Gabe agrees, standing. He rolls out his shoulders and says, “Good luck with the episode.”
“You’re leaving?” Adam asks, sounding disappointed. The bag of Cheetos hangs uncertainly in the air.
“Places to go, people to see,” Gabe says casually. In truth, he needs to tell someone about this before he explodes. Preferably his entire band. Preferably the whole fucking tour.
William narrows his eyes again, which means he sees right through that excuse. Gabe smiles winsomely at him in return, and William’s stuck because he can’t exactly make a fuss about Gabe leaving the bus when his only other option is to encourage him to stay while wearing women’s clothing. Gabe grins harder.
“I’ll see you soon,” he tells William, and drops his voice once he moves past William into the hallway and the other guys start talking about something else. “Want to roleplay? A little riot grrl-on-fanboy action?”
“Not my kink,” William says. “Nice try, though.”
“You should come over later,” Gabe says, undeterred, and William’s eyes darken in the way that means he understands what that invitation really is.
Neither of them bother glancing around; the other guys either know or they don’t, and either way, they don’t care. William shrugs one shoulder in a way that means maybe, but he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to worry it, which means yes.
Gabe winks at him and adds, “Don’t change.”
Hi there, sorry I'm at skip=one million, you know how it is once the first big bang due date rolls around. I look forward to the day I no longer have gmail, three googledocs, and five community posts open in my browser window.
(P.S. Dear fanmixer, if you guess my secret identity and see this, I apologize for all of the specific song references in the fic. Just ignore them. I am much more excited to hear what you come up with. :-D)
I have been watching television lately! Craziness! At the moment, I am most amused by the Carolina Liar rotating song-of-the-week on Greek (not that I watch Greek *cough*) and oh my god, the funeral episode (that's not a spoiler, is it?) on Bones made me actually cry with laughter. I had to keep getting up and walking away because I was shrieking out loud. Amazing.
Okay, I am not saying anything, really, but I'm just saying, disarm_d is spoon-feeding me snippets of what already one of my favourite stories ever and I am totally in love with it. Again, not saying anything, just...you might want to watch that space.
Before the big bang madness began, adellyna asked me if I would write some quick OTP fic for her, and I told her to give me half an hour. So here you go.
Gabe/William, G, fiction.
Gabe is napping in the Academy’s lounge when they come back from their mysterious midday expedition, because as much as he loves Pete’s bus, these are his boys. Thus he’s the first - and possibly only - person to witness when William tromps up the stairs at the head of the pack wearing an actual, honest-to-god, frilly pink dress.
“Holy shit,” Gabe says, sitting straight up and blinking to make sure this isn’t a post-drunken hallucination. It’s been a few hours since the hangover quit, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
William startles badly when Gabe speaks, and his hands do a strange fluttering dance of trying to cover up his chest, then legs, then face, before he crosses his arms. The body language is probably supposed to be aggressive and resolute, but Gabe sees right through that shit into defensive.
“Don’t even think it,” William says warningly.
“Too late,” Gabe informs him cheerfully, because he’s thought about two hundred things in the past eight seconds, and William would probably object to all of them. “Did you lose a bet?”
“TAI TV,” Butcher declares, pushing past William with total disregard for his choice of wardrobe.
“What are you doing, America’s Next Top Band Member?” Gabe asks.
Adam gives him a thoughtful look. Butcher says, “No, but…”
“Dibs,” Gabe jumps in immediately, cutting him off.
William frowns a little. “We should never have said you could do the Cobra Cam, you’re stealing all of our episode ideas.”
“Hey, that one was mine, fair and square,” Gabe defends, blithely ignoring the part where he stole two of their ideas just last week. They worked better for Cobras, anyway.
Much like this one. He’s going to make a killer Tyra.
“So what’s the deal?” he asks, chowing down when Adam sits next to him and offers Cheetos. Like Gabe is going to turn down Cheetos. “Mary Had A Little Band? Little Bill Peep?”
“Dirty,” Mike says from somewhere behind the rest of the guys, his head in the cabinet.
“It’s a nursery rhyme,” William tells him, much aggrieved.
“So?” Mike says. “Children’s stories are way dirty. Why not nursery rhymes?”
Gabe gives up and raises his eyebrows at Michael. As entertaining as this is, he recognizes William’s stalling for what it is, and he really wants to know what the deal is. As the rule goes; when in doubt - or when William is employing evasive maneuvers - go after Chiz.
As expected, Michael folds like a hand of cards. “This year’s fan-written episode,” he explains, and Gabe still gets a kick out of the way Michael says fan. “Second annual contest. Revenge of the fans.”
“Oh, and what a revenge it was,” Butcher adds. “Ladies and gentlemen, TAI TV presents: The Academy Is: Riot Grrrls.”
Gabe makes a whooping, strangled snorting noise. “Heavens to Betsy,” he says solemnly once he recovers, and then cracks up again when William narrows his eyes.
“Bill was opposed to the idea,” Adam informs him, “but we took a vote, and he was outnumbered four to one.”
Gabe has been around the Academy for long enough to know that while they all love him, the rest of the band occasionally gets revenge on William in strange, twisted ways for the many times he drives them all batshit crazy. This is looking like one of those instances.
“Four to one, really?” Gabe asks, with faux-innocence.
“Then Mike defected, and Bill tried to claim two votes, as lead singer,” Butcher says. “So we called Tom as a tie-breaker, who we agreed gets half a vote as an ex-member.”
“And it was unanimous,” Adam proclaims, even though it obviously wasn’t.
“Conrad voted to put video of you in a skirt on the Internet?” Gabe asks, with wide eyes. “I’m shocked.”
William rolls his eyes. “Me too,” he says with heavy irony.
“I still say you Americans are repressed,” Michael says. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You are a brave man,” Gabe tells him, because he doesn’t even live on this bus and he’s still pretty sure William would make his life hell if he voted for a fan episode about William running around in a skirt and pigtails.
“It’s for a good cause,” Michael says, shrugging, and if Gabe didn’t know him better, he’d totally have missed the glint in his eye. “Third-wave feminism. Universal female identity.”
“I support women in music,” William says, like any of them ever doubted that. “But I don’t think this is really furthering their goals.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gabe drawls, leaning back with one arm tucked behind his head. “Maybe with a little more eyeliner, some fishnets and a bad dye job.”
“We’re talking about me in a dress, not your latest wet dream,” William informs him in a tone dry enough to parch an oasis.
Gabe leers at him, because William should really know better than to give him that kind of opening. “Maybe you are my wet dream,” he says. “Ay Mamacita.”
“I don’t think the feminists would appreciate that,” William replies, in a tone that Gabe recognizes as trying for ‘dignified.’ Too late for dignity, Gabe thinks. There’s a pink frilly dress involved.
“Is this really Riot Grrrl gear?” he asks critically, tapping his lower lip.
“You’re just angling for the fishnets,” Mike says, coming back to join them with a fresh beer in his hand. “We’re onto you.”
“If the stocking fits,” Gabe agrees, standing. He rolls out his shoulders and says, “Good luck with the episode.”
“You’re leaving?” Adam asks, sounding disappointed. The bag of Cheetos hangs uncertainly in the air.
“Places to go, people to see,” Gabe says casually. In truth, he needs to tell someone about this before he explodes. Preferably his entire band. Preferably the whole fucking tour.
William narrows his eyes again, which means he sees right through that excuse. Gabe smiles winsomely at him in return, and William’s stuck because he can’t exactly make a fuss about Gabe leaving the bus when his only other option is to encourage him to stay while wearing women’s clothing. Gabe grins harder.
“I’ll see you soon,” he tells William, and drops his voice once he moves past William into the hallway and the other guys start talking about something else. “Want to roleplay? A little riot grrl-on-fanboy action?”
“Not my kink,” William says. “Nice try, though.”
“You should come over later,” Gabe says, undeterred, and William’s eyes darken in the way that means he understands what that invitation really is.
Neither of them bother glancing around; the other guys either know or they don’t, and either way, they don’t care. William shrugs one shoulder in a way that means maybe, but he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to worry it, which means yes.
Gabe winks at him and adds, “Don’t change.”