unfetished

Hola! This is a journal for addictedkitten's abandoned bandom WiPs (so, WNiPs I guess?). I am using this journal which, prior to me writing this entry right now, was last used in 2003. Fun fact: the only two entries were abandoned WiPs, two of which were Harry/Draco (Dear Harry Potter fandom: I am so sorry about that BDSM: A Love Story thing), and one of which was Chuckie/Tommy from Rugrats (sorry about that, CJ and Chloe). The username comes from a misheard Something Corporate lyric, or rather a willfully misinterpreted one: "Why do you leave these stories unfinished?" from Walking By, which kind of sounds like unfetished, which is not a word. But I thought it was suitable to be readopted for use for a journal of abandoned stories. Actually, I just wanted an account that's not plastered with fucking ads.

Stories are listed in descending chronological order based on when they were started, at least to my best guess. Each one has notes along with it. I'm obviously posting these because I don't want them to go to waste unread, so of course if you like something feel free to comment on it.

All stories are bandom. A lot of these stories are Brendon/Ryan but some of the early ones are not. I've tagged these by pairing and by the year they were started, so depending on what you like about my writing (assuming you're here because you do), I offer the following guidelines on what to expect:

2006: Ryan's getting fucked like, all the time. He loves it. Sometimes there's non-con, which will obviously be warned for in caps and bold type. I love me some Pete/Patrick. Sometimes pairings are weird, like they can be when you get into a fandom with a lot of characters/people and you're like, let's do whatever the fuck we want! Yeah!
2007: Pretty much it's all Panic, all the time. Ryan still loves that dick, everyone still loves giving it to him.
2008: I don't think I actually had many WiPs this year, probably because I was like "fuck you too, fandom! ;___;" and then I didn't write too much. (What I did finish is located over at cloviswest, where I was all undercover and shit.)
2009: Goddammit, Brendon and Ryan don't seem to be talking to each other! :( This sucks. :( Oh well, I'm sure they're fine! Let's write angsty fic anyway, or writes AUs and ignore it! Oh, fuck. Okay, well. Shit. /and here we are.

Additional tags are over on the sidebar, scroll down a little and you'll see them. Some fic is angsty, some is bantery and happy. I'd mark what's what, but tbh I think it's all pretty depressing in retrospect. At least Ryan Ross is still hot, though.

Many of these are at least a few thousand words long, with some topping out at 7,000+ words. On a few of them, I've included extra snippets, generally if the snippets are porn. Breaks between these snippets are marked as such: ---some plot was supposed to be here--- or a similar pithy comment. Centered, single-dash section breaks are indicators that each scene directly follows the last.

Obviously, most of these cut off in middle of scenes and then there's no more. Those are the breaks, yo. I hope you enjoy what's here anyway, let the buyer beware etc.

General questions and comments will be answered in this post, should you have anything to say. Comments on each unfinished story will be entertained and if you're desperate to know what happened I can probably dredge that up from memory or make something up for you. Or if you want to tell me how you think it ends, I'd love to hear it.

It's been real, guys. Enjoy reading. :)



Alternatively, fuck this, I'm just here for the PORN!

After the breakup I decided to write the epic story of Brendon and Ryan. As time wore on I realized that by the time I finished it, there would be no one left in fandom to read it. I don't really have the heart anymore for bandom, anyway. But here's the first part of the epic that never was.



Upon meeting Ryan Ross, Brendon shook his hand and said, "You're tall."

It was one of many things Brendon had observed about Ryan immediately after seeing him. Ryan was indeed tall; he was also skinny, and had the look of a scene kid in a band, or a scene kid who desperately wanted to be in a band. Before leaving his house, Brendon had looked at himself in the mirror and decided that he looked nothing like a kid who belonged in such a band. His hair looked stupid no matter what he did with it, he was still awkwardly tiny, and his glasses, while geeky, weren't quite geeky enough to be taken ironically. Maybe Ryan could teach him to look cool. Probably Ryan couldn't teach him to be tall, though.

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This is an 1800s AU based loosely on ideas of male romantic friendship and my continuing fascination with the artistic clique that was Mary Shelley/Percy Bysshe Shelley/John William Polidori/Lord Byron. Mostly I just wanted to write Brendon and Ryan taking a bath together. Working title: The Year Without a Summer.


Brendon doesn't even realize he's singing until he nearly trips over a tableau of afternoon idleness: two boys sprawled across a blanket near the lake's edge, picnic basket open and wine glasses full.

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Set during the trip to Africa. It's weird how finding out the band actually broke up was what spurred me to write things and actually finish them. For some reason here I got really peevish about Brendon always having beer, onstage, in pics, etc.



Brendon accessorizes with beer bottles like Ryan accessorizes with scarves and waistcoats and spats and whatever other Victorian relic captures his fancy that week. He doesn't wear them, that's stupid, but it seems like he always has one with him. Onstage, in his room, on the plane, at his house. On sun-soaked Los Angeles afternoons where there's nothing to do but sit in the backyard and write, that doesn't seem so out of place. Doesn't even seem so out of place now, really, but maybe that's because Ryan's gotten used to it.

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And then 2009 asserted itself. This was written in a fit of angst after we found out Brendon moved to LA, but before we found out that Ryan moved there as well. Working title: How To Shoot At Someone Who Outdrew You.



Ryan's lying comfortably on his back on the grass when a shadow looms over him and a toe connects with his side, prodding at him.

"Spencer," Brendon says, "you need a new best friend, I don't think this one works anymore."

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I posted this and talked further about this over at the Brendon/Ryan Revival meme of several months ago, but here it is again for kicks. The first paragraph is obviously more notes. It was originally going to GSF where Brendon and Ryan developed real feelings for each other while Spencer and Jon were just fucking around, and then this whole big angsty thing were Brendon could fuck Ryan every night but what he really wanted was to hold Ryan's hand, blah blah OTP blah.



Because okay, obviously I keep thinking about Brendon and Ryan. Maybe how it starts is that they've all drank before without each other, but never together. Brendon's so excited about drinking with all of them, with Ryan, that he kind of overdoes it. ( Read more... )

Hurray for bb!Panic. This is one of my most bummer abandoned stories, because in my head it's like the sweetest domestic thing ever with angst and feelings and preciousness. But I like what there is of it.



Ryan brings Brendon a plant as an apartment-warming gift. He shows up just as Spencer and Brent are walking out the door.

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This is a Wild West AU where Ryan cross-dresses. I liked where it was going!



It's not easy to miss when a new family comes to town in a city as small as Las Vegas, even with more folks coming in from up north every day. Las Vegas gets the vagabonds, the ruffians, the ones who found Carson City or Reno too refined and craved the lax gambling laws and opportunity of this little desert oasis.

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Oh my fucking god, this fic. In 2008 I went into a state of JoBros-induced madness, the product of which was the most epic Brendon/Joe Jonas that has ever existed inside my head. Therein lies the problem with this story: most fics have endings, this one doesn't. This is because the story doesn't end. Brendon and Joe live in domestic bliss for the rest of their lives. They have a house in Pacific Palisades and a bunny named Bunny. But first, they get together, and that's all that I managed to write of it. Had the story continued, they would have eventually come out as a couple, and actually, in fact, not had sex until their wedding night. There are over 7,000 words here; it would have taken probably another 70,000 before I felt like the story had an ending. But here it is, what there is of it. RIP, Joe/Brendon epic.



"I found a Jonas brother," Spencer announces, and Brendon looks up from his iPhone to see Spencer with his arm around Kevin Jonas, showing him off.

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Brendon/Greta mutual crossdressing; I still loathe myself for never managing to get this one off the ground. Please, someone take this bunny, because it is so stupidly hot it hurts my feelings. Here's what I managed to scrape together as a beginning anyway.



Brendon had looked kind of squirrelly when they split up and promised to meet back at the food court in an hour, but honestly, Greta hadn't expected something as mundane as this.

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Why in the name of god did I ever think The Cab were interesting enough to write about? The working title of this one was rad though - N Sync With Fangs, or: Minions Now Available in Convenient Packs of Five. This is like a vampiric comedy of errors. It was originally going to be Cash/Singer. Oh, self.



Brendon's halfway through a fine dinner - young, blond, vegetarian by the taste of him - when he's interrupted by a startled, "Oh shit!" This isn't unusual; generally such an exclamation is followed by the sound of fleeing footsteps, or in rarer cases, the kind of concerned good Samaritan behavior that means Brendon gets dessert tonight. Brendon keeps drinking, feeling the last few twitches of life drain from the guy's limbs, and flicks his eyes upward to check out his potential final course.

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Another 16 Candles AU, this one even more infinitely depressing. Get psyched! I wish I could have finished this one, but I think the relentless misery of it was too much for even me. Oh well.



Brent went missing three days ago, but he's not the heavy mass of boy fallen into Ryan's arms when he opens the door, and it takes Ryan a second to process what's going on, whose voice it is saying his name, whose hands are clutching at his hips, his upper arms. ( Read more... )

Oh man, HCT 2008. I developed a real thing for Chris/Darren, that unfortunately didn't manifest in a whole lot of finished fic. This is an AU based on the Honey video. I fucking loved the idea of it but I couldn't keep it going, woe.



Before Honey there's Christopher with stars in his eyes.

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Somnophilia and Ryan topping Brendon, originally started for ivyenglish.



It’s a miracle of modern science that Ryan even makes it into Brendon’s hotel room considering how chemically altered he feels; if he’d been forced to use a key card rather than the connecting door, it may never had been possible at all. ( Read more... )

Spanking!


Jon's the nicest. Maybe it's not fair, but Brendon sort of figured he wouldn't be; he has big, rough hands, and sometimes he squeezes kind of tightly when he hugs Brendon, so Brendon thought maybe that would translate over to this. ( Read more... )

Three paragraphs of porn, making this the shortest thing posted here.


Ryan's skin tastes like salt, sweat, hot against Brendon's lips, soft and so fucking tender that Brendon's groan matches Ryan's own when his teeth sink in. ( Read more... )

This story is one of the main reasons I wanted to put up this WiP journal. It's over 7,000 words, all of which I really like. I started writing it before Keltie was really super in our faces, and ended up wrestling with how to keep on with this fic once it became clear that she was unavoidable. I tend to find just ignoring the girlfriends altogether kind of a cop-out, but to suddenly include her after so many words of cuteness and banter would have been an epic boner killer. So I never finished this, which is, indeed, it's own sort of cop-out. I came up with more than a few places this could go - I think the leader was that Ryan would just cheat on her with Brendon - but none of them were the story that I wanted to write. I invite you to pretend she doesn't exist and they live happily ever after until roughly spring 2009, or just make up your own ending. And if you come up with a rad one, share it with me. Goddamn, I love what there is of this fic.

The working title was "The Love Story of Brendon, Ryan, and Hobo."



What was ironic about the whole situation was that Brendon wasn't really all that crazy about dogs.

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Document title: hopeless otp fic. This is one of the ones I really regret not finishing, and one of the longer WiPs here.



Ryan's under Brendon. He's under Brendon, pushing up, and Brendon looks down like he's afraid, like he thinks Ryan wants to get away, and Ryan doesn't at all; he clutches at Brendon's arms, lifts his hips, thrusts up. Denim's not conducive to this, April's not conducive to this, Ryan's fucking bedroom floor with the broken AC and the fan barely stirring the air above them, none of it's really working, none of it's really ideal, and nothing in Ryan really wants to stop. "Please," Ryan gasps, and Brendon's hands fumble with the zipper of his jeans.

They've known each other for a week.

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Working title: This Is Not That Dream.



When Brendon wakes up it's to the sound of static and Ryan shifting under him, shoulder digging into Brendon's cheek where he's leaning propped up against Ryan on the couch. Ryan blinks down at him, and Brendon settles in further, raising an eyebrow.

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Offscreen rough sex and Brendon pining. Woo!



"You have a - there's a bruise," Brendon says, and fits his hand over it without thinking, making Ryan hiss and jerk away.

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