*bleet*

[kat_lair]

Snagged from sateenmusta, looked entertaining.

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE-UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.

Comments

[bloody---reject.livejournal.com]

I know I should have listened. You told me no Cuervo, it makes me do crazy things. And now you refuse to let me ever enjoy a margarita when I'm with you ever again, all because I buffed your legs and face a few times. I still don't see what the big deal is. Really. How was I supposed to know that you couldn't outrun me when I was riding a floor waxer?

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

a margarita? I wish! If the memory serves (it just hasn't been the same since the incident with floor waxer), you had at least six of them. Honest to god, I've never seen anyone do that with a cleaning mop and a pair of rubber gloves.

[sateenmusta.livejournal.com]

Hun, I told you you shouldn't marry the guy - he wasn't right for you. But you were madly in love, anyone could see it. I bit my lip to not to say that I wouldn't be there to pick up the pieces once he'd fuck up - I didn't, because I knew I'd be there anyway. So it was only a matter of time, and then as you appeared to my doorstep, teary-eyed and makeup smudging black traces to your face, I just hugged you tight and didn't say I told you so. Because that's what everyone says. So instead I said, "I'm still here," and you smiled, and maybe things would be okay again, some day...

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

How was I to know? He promised me a future; slow summer nights when the air is like warm milk and brisk autumn days when the wind sears your lungs and the world tastes new.

Instead I was left with this winter. The cold eats at my bones, gnawing around my heart like a hungry animal. I yearn for spring. Will you hold my hand until it arrives?

[lolabobs.livejournal.com]

My most vivid memory of you is strange because it's almost a non memory. It was when we met up for the fandom meet in Manchester - and we both arrived at the bar early. There was no central 'meeting point' yet, 'cos no one 'official' had turned up, and we had no way of knowing that we were both there for the same meeting. But you followed me into the bar 30 seconds after I got there. You looked around - so self possessed - then went to the opposite side of the bar. I saw you come in and knew. I guess you did too, 'cos we kept catching each other's eye. Then, when everyone else arrived, in a mass all loud and talky - we each joined the group - and didn't speak. Not once.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

I remember the bar; browns and greens and old framed newspaper clippings on the walls. I always look self-possessed, it's a good skill to have. Doesn't mean I am.

You were drinking something from a tall glass. I ordered wine. The meeting was a good one. I didn't know many people but I knew you. Or maybe I just thought I did.

I wanted to, anyway. Maybe it's too late now.

[lolabobs.livejournal.com]

I always thought that bar was an ironic choice for such a meeting. Locked in the past; whilst we bustled in with the future in our eyes.

It's strange how you seemed to hold safety and security that day. Waiting alone, I wasn't lonely. Scared in the crowd, I felt reassured.

[claudia-writes.livejournal.com]

It was an evening flight from Helsinki airport, and we were randomly in the same plane. Of course it was delayed because it was raining like mad and the plane had had a flat tyre. You made me make fances at the Japanise tuorists waiting for their flight in the same end of the terminal as us, and I laughed at your passport photo for quite some time.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Flying means disconnecting from everyday life, from the Earth. So when you meet someone you can connect with, if only for those few hours you are both in-between, in transit, it's a gift.

And yes, my passport photo is pretty fucking awful. :D

[oikku.livejournal.com]

oh hey, remember this one time we ran away together and lived happily ever after? yeah, and then we did it again! *nodnod*

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

I remember holding your hand. I remember the shooting stars and the way you looked, astride the unicorn, head thrown back in laughter.

[ginnystar.livejournal.com]

It was madness, I told you, madness that made you do it and oh God, didn't you tell me that you would do it all over again if you could. The hall was full of screaming, hormonally charged fangirls and I couldn't hear anything over the wail of a thousand fans and the liquid smooth voice of Brendon Urie. We'd somehow managed to push our way into the front where our stomachs were being pressed mercilessly to the bars by the crowds behind us and the air was heavy with sweat, and tears (of joy) and (I thought) estrogen. Lots and lots of estrogen.

It was halfway through their encore song when it happened. Brendon got too close to the edge as he whispered wicked sins into our ears and off the edge of the stage he slipped, stumbling almost magically to where you'd been standing for the entire gig. He was only there for a moment before the burly guards around the stage were able to reach him and boost him back up, but I saw you do it. As did most of the crowd around you, judging by their envious, jealous, hostile stares.

"Tell me," I asked afterwards as we grabbed a bite to eat in a late-night pub, "Tell me you didn't just cop a feel." You just grinned back at me and took a bite of your burger. You really didn't need to say anything else for me to know oh yes you did and you most definitely liked what you felt.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

I'd do it again, no question. I can still feel it; the sweat-slick skin of his stomach, my hand sliding under the waist of his jeans, the belt buckle scraping my knuckles...

_{ahahaha, Ginny! I lolled so hard at this, you don't even know. Also, have you done your proof reading/changes to the Guy/Robin porn yet? If so, can you email them to me?}

[ginnystar.livejournal.com]

It was on the website afterwards you know, until the refresh monkeys broke the server viewing it. It circulated the internet for a while and became the most watched on YouTube for three weeks.

_{Heehee, it was hilarious to write. I haven't yet- I'm unable to write anything for the beginning bits, which confuse me horribly. I'll finish what I've done to the rest though (which isn't much) and then send it to you later?}

[http://users.livejournal.com/_doodle/]

You remember that time we woke up in a paddling pool wearing nothing but newspaper hats? That's why I'll never drink hard spirits with you again.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

It wasn't me who suggested body shots. And it was fucking hot, so the paddling pool made sense. At the time.

[smokey2307.livejournal.com]

Remember that one time when you bribed me to write hetfic for you? You know, you promised me those FOB tickets if I did it? Well, let's face it - it was terrible, and so totally not worth those fake tickets anyway.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Pffft, what are you complaining about? Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming are like totally OTP. And it's not my fault Patrick sent the wrong tickets and then had to come and pick me up himself when it was too late to get replacements. I told you not to be late.

[smokey2307.livejournal.com]

It wasn't so much the fact that it was a hetfic, but more it was a het PWP that made me cringe as I wrote it. Srsly. You'd think I'd be more comfortable with that than gay sexing, but no. And if you hadn't phoned me and told me that Pete and Patrick were going to be late because they were "busy" (which I wholly suspect you did just to get Patrick by himself) then I would have been on time!

[iniq.livejournal.com]

Remember that one time we went up to Joe's at eleven at night because we felt like playing pool after watching Die Hard 3? And how we ended up with paid-for drinks and that nerdy guy who thought he was cool because he could play and knew all the rules of 8-ball? What an idiot. Especially when he took the white one low enough that it jumped off the table and hit the biker on the next table in the leg. Ah~ good times. Good drinks, too. And those little spicy snack pretzels they had!

I still believe that you spilled that drink on his emo shirt on purpose. :D

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Joe is one decent guy. I still can't believe he didn't charge us anything for the broken pool table. That biker totally over-reacted. Just because you hit him on the nose while I kicked him on the balls for threatening the emo boy. I mean, yeah, he was pretty lame and nerdy, but he was ours. And no one messes with that except us.

Point. But he was much more fun with his shirt off. At least that's what you said in the morning.

[iniq.livejournal.com]

Yeah! I'll never forget that night, seriously. Who would've thought that such a nerdy emo boy would have nipple piercings? :3
Lame, kinky little emo kid.


Also, I'm watching Die Hard 3 at the moment because it's running on TV. What a coincidence. XD

[entangled-now.livejournal.com]

Hey remember that time we were driving and we picked up that really attractive hitchhiker. Only when we stopped off to get petrol we peeked in his rucksack and it was full of porcelain dolls and crayons. We decided that was a little too weird. So when he went to the toilet we took off and left him stranded just outside Milton Keynes.

Man I always wonder what happened to him....

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Man, not only porcelain dolls, but porcelain clowns! We did the right thing, that is a clear sign of homicidal (and possibly cannibalistic) tendencies. I have heard of rumours of the Wild Clown Man of Milton Keynes. They say he roams the interchange at night, a grotesque circus make-up on his face, and throws pebbles at the passing trucks.

[pushkin666.livejournal.com]

Pushed further into the hay I strove to keep my face turned to one side needing to breathe. You didn't care though and you laughed as you trailed the end of the riding crop over my back, the leather cold against my bare skin.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

The sun spilling through the rafters painted your skin with a criss-cross of light and shadow. I wanted to make every line permanent.

[abigailmarissa.livejournal.com]

Remember that time we hung out in Hawaii, smoking weed and drinking Malibu and you got arrested for disturbing the peace by running around and shouting that McKay and Zelenka are totally doing it and then David Hewlett showed up to pay your bail?

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Man, David was not happy with me. But he totally mellowed out once we got some Malibu into him too. We all fell asleep on the beach, cuddled in one big pile under the stars, the waves crashing to the shore. Best holiday ever. Let's go again.

[abigailmarissa.livejournal.com]

Haha we totally should! Also, love your icon :D

[sadiane.livejournal.com]

OMG, there was that once when you and my wife decided we needed to go to the Rocky Horror Picture show midnight showing, even though I hate that god damned movie with every fiber of my being and I have no idea why the hell I agreed. I think I was drunk at the time So we got all gothed up - crimping iron for crazy poodle hair, my 6 inch platform boots, corsets, eyeliner, feather boas. And the show totally didn't suck (for once!) and we ended up at the 24 hour Denny's looking like goth hookers, eating ice cream sundaes at 4 am.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Jesus, who knew you were such a bitch about wearing a corset, it's supposed to pinch, you know. Still, a good show. I thought climbing the stage during the Time-Warp was maybe a little ill-advised, but your wife said she knew the actors and no one would get arrested so what the hell.

Good ice-creams too. Though how you can eat that cherry-toffee-banana concoction is beyond me.

[sadiane.livejournal.com]

I know, I know. And it's got to be like 2 sizes to small before the whole corset thing is worth doing, even to just sit in the dark at a movie.Otherwise it's just a really stiff shirt.

They never arrest anyone as long as they keep their pants on. And usually not even then. This is trufax.

And don't even get me stated of the cherry-toffee-banana thing. Does not go well with tequila! Don't even try it.

[thejumpcut.livejournal.com]

You were so sure and together and gorgeous when the three of us got married. I don't know if you even noticed Patrick and me holding each other up as we watched you walk up to where we were standing, both of us faint and dizzy with nerves and awe.

It's good that I live in Canada so when we come up with these awesome open-minded ideas like a three-way marriage, it won't be so hard to make it happen.

---

PS. ...maybe you should check your email? Fake memories are my favourite kind, what can I say.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

I don't remember walking up the aisle. I only remember the look on your faces; the way you two shone, hands clasped tightly together. And I thought to myself this is love. And it is.

ps. emailing you soon. you crazy bitch, ilu!

My icon loves your icon

[thejumpcut.livejournal.com]

Later on, you gently washed both our hands to clean the deep red crescents where we'd held each other's hands so tight, our short, ragged guitar-worn fingernails had worn right through the skin.

I watched as you held Patrick's hand in both of your own, and in the bright lights and white and silver of the ridiculously opulent hotel bathroom we all looked so small. I thought, Seriously, how is she not cracking up?, and then you looked up and caught my eyes, and then it started. Nervous giggles turned to rolling fits turned to waves of helpless, hooting laughter, until the three of us were crying as hard as we laughed. As we slid to the floor, we clutched at each other for balance; it's what we always do.

ILU too! Take your time with the email - there's kind of a lot of it to sift through, because I'm wordy like that. :)

Re: My icon loves your icon

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

And that was of course when Pete burst in through the door in his ridiculous bell-hop outfit. I think we both knew that there was just no way he was going to let Patrick go, and we didn't really want him to. It's just that we were sick of watching him deflect and joke and pull back at the last moment, taking his kisses elsewhere, getting his skin bruised by others, while Patrick's heart was breaking.

We couldn't let it go on so we stepped in, giving him what he deserved and more. But I always said "The door isn't closed Patrick. If Pete wants in, he'll only have to ask." but Patrick, he never believed it. Remember that time when he got drunk and cried? The way he was slumped on the sofa between us, his head in his hands and he said "i love you, i love you, i love you" over and over again and we knew it was the truth but that it wasn't the whole truth.

And when Patrick finally passed out, sprawled across your lap, I looked at you and asked "what are we going to do, Leah? What are we going to do?" and you said "We're gonna get married. We're gonna give him that."