Collected fake news commentfics
Sep. 2nd, 2012 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kribbanAnother round-up of ficlets written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fakenews_fanfic.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, computer games, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
”It says 'Yes'.”
Jon held up the note before putting it on top of the others. He smiled. ”That's three for yes.” Maggie was too young to vote and Nate was excited about getting another adult to play video games with.
Jon's smile faded as he read the final note. He held it up so his spouses could see the ”NO” written in bold text.
Tracey bit her lip. Stephen looked sullen.
The vote was supposed to be secret, but Jon could recognize both of their hand writing anywhere. He reached across the table and put his hand over Stephen´s. ”I thought the dates went well. It seemed like you liked her.”
”I do!” Stephen´s voice was small. “I like her a lot.”
The thick golden band on his ring finger seemed to sparkle in the candle light. Jon rubbed against it with his thumb.
He and Tracey had been open about their decision not to wear rings and had told Stephen they didn't expect him to wear one either. Stephen had insisted on getting one, and that it had to be picked out by Jon and Tracey together. (”I can't be second wife without a ring, Jon!”)
”Then what's wrong?”
Stephen mumbled something under his breath.
”Say that again, Stephen.”
”I said she'll be the new one. She'll be new and exciting and you'll be too busy falling in love with her and raising the kids to have any time over for me.”
Jon kept his hand where it was. ”Do you think I stopped spending time with Tracey when I married you?”
”No, but she was completely smitten with me herself, so that's different.”
Tracey let out a little laugh. ”Yes, I was and I didn't mind spending all that time with you. Just like I won't mind spending a lot of time with our sister-wife, and I don't think you will either. Besides, four is a very even number. If we pair up, we'll always have someone to be with.”
She seemed to be getting through to him, so she decided to go all in. ”Don't you want to have more children, Stephen?”
Stephen nodded. ”Maybe not nine more, like mom, but one or two would be nice.”
Jon and Tracey looked at each other knowingly.
”This will give us a chance to expand our family in a way the three of us can't do together. Tracey can't get pregnant, and – your fine hips notwithstanding – you can't either.”
“You told her that's not why you want her to be our wife.”
“And it isn't. But it's a bonus that she wants kids. Just like it's a bonus that you wanted to help raise ours. But I still would have loved you if you hadn't.”
And with that, it was as if all apprehension left Stephen. He nodded and pulled the stack of notes towards him. “I'm going to re-cast my vote now, so you'll both have to look away.”
When Olivia had managed to assure Jon that really, she understood that he couldn't get down on his knees, she opened the box and let out a girlish scream. The ring inside was made out of white gold; sleek and elegant. It was beautiful, feminine and looked very different from the ring her brother wife wore.
She examined it closely, making sure not to slip it on her finger by accident. She was old fashioned enough to want Jon to be the one to place the ring on her finger, and not before the ceremony. Then again, she would be entering a non-legal, bi-gendered, secular, plural marriage, so she could probably make her own rules.
”Huh.”
Jon blinked. ”What?”
The ring already had an inscription. In beautiful, cursive writing it said:
”02.29.2012. Olivia & Jon (1/3)”
Stephen had almost been surprised when he realized how easy it would be to get Jon to fall in love with him. All he had to do was to wait until Jon's marriage fell apart and step in to fill the void when it did.
He would offer up his guest room, while the wife took control of the apartment and sold Jon's favorite furniture on E-Bay. (Wives did that, he knew from experience.)
He would be Jon's shoulder to cry on, his steady rock to lean on, and then, during one of the nightly comfort-sessions, his hand would slip below Jon's waist, and Jon would look up, startled, but with an expression that communicated 'Stephen, I trust you' and Stephen would smile in a way that communicated “You're right to trust me, baby, I'll be the wildest stallion you'll ever ride but I won't ever throw you off” and then he would lean forward until their lips met.
It was almost too simple.
All Jon's wife would have to do was to break his heart into tiny little pieces and be heartless enough during the divorce proceedings that all of Jon's trust in her was destroyed, but not heartless enough to not be granted full custody of the children.
Stephen smiled to himself as he watched his soon-to-be-boyfriend setting the table with his soon-to-be-ex-wife, ring-less hands moving in perfect co-ordination.
Any day now.
It's almost midnight when they finally let Rachel go. She doesn't stop to wash the make-up off her face, just gets in the car and drives. She has no doubt that Meghan will still be awake when she gets there. Her new lover is a nocturnal animal, a party girl made for staying up late and sleeping in. Rachel has taken to watching the morning news with her headphones on whenever she stays over in Meghan's tiny apartment. Susan always ate breakfast with her, and part of her misses that, but Rachel is making an effort not to need too much.
She was the younger woman once, too.
The drive takes less than twenty minutes. The hallway is dark but there is light streaming out of the bed room.
Meghan is indeed awake, pouring over a stack of papers with a marker cap between her teeth. It's no doubt the transcript for her upcoming book, which she has told Rachel will be the wildest, most entertaining road trip account ever.
She looks exhausted, but when she sees Rachel she lights up. Her bleached hair is tied in a sloppy pony tail and her eyes look tired under the thick frames that Rachel knows so well.
"Hey, baby. Welcome home."
"Thanks. So what have you been up to?"
Rachel slips off her shoes and curls up on the bed next to Meghan. Meghan's body is radiating heat and she almost instinctively presses against it. Like a cat against a radiator.
"Not much, just working on Bitch. I can't get over this stupid passage."
Rachel has read the draft several times and the nicest thing she could say about it without lying is that it's moderately amusing. She presses her face against the side of Meghan's neck.
"Do you want me to take a look at it?"
"No, it's okay. My brain is too fried right now, anyway."
Meghan sighs and puts the pen and the stack of papers on the night stand.
Rachel knows that Meghan will ask for her help tomorrow. She silently vows to give constructive advice while sounding enthusiastic and supportive. She won't acknowledge that she wouldn't read it if Meghan wasn't her girlfriend, just like she never acknowledges the grammatical errors in Meghan's columns, or the simple fact that no one would care about Meghan's opinions if it wasn't for her last name.
She pinches Meghan on the nose.
"You're wearing my glasses."
Meghan smiles sheepishly. It's not the let's-have-crazy-sex-smile but the I-love-you-so-much-and-it's-time-for-cuddling-smile. She wraps her arm around Rachel's shoulder.
"Do they make me look smart like you?"
Rachel smiles. "Definitely."
fakenews_fanfic.Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, computer games, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
”It says 'Yes'.”
Jon held up the note before putting it on top of the others. He smiled. ”That's three for yes.” Maggie was too young to vote and Nate was excited about getting another adult to play video games with.
Jon's smile faded as he read the final note. He held it up so his spouses could see the ”NO” written in bold text.
Tracey bit her lip. Stephen looked sullen.
The vote was supposed to be secret, but Jon could recognize both of their hand writing anywhere. He reached across the table and put his hand over Stephen´s. ”I thought the dates went well. It seemed like you liked her.”
”I do!” Stephen´s voice was small. “I like her a lot.”
The thick golden band on his ring finger seemed to sparkle in the candle light. Jon rubbed against it with his thumb.
He and Tracey had been open about their decision not to wear rings and had told Stephen they didn't expect him to wear one either. Stephen had insisted on getting one, and that it had to be picked out by Jon and Tracey together. (”I can't be second wife without a ring, Jon!”)
”Then what's wrong?”
Stephen mumbled something under his breath.
”Say that again, Stephen.”
”I said she'll be the new one. She'll be new and exciting and you'll be too busy falling in love with her and raising the kids to have any time over for me.”
Jon kept his hand where it was. ”Do you think I stopped spending time with Tracey when I married you?”
”No, but she was completely smitten with me herself, so that's different.”
Tracey let out a little laugh. ”Yes, I was and I didn't mind spending all that time with you. Just like I won't mind spending a lot of time with our sister-wife, and I don't think you will either. Besides, four is a very even number. If we pair up, we'll always have someone to be with.”
She seemed to be getting through to him, so she decided to go all in. ”Don't you want to have more children, Stephen?”
Stephen nodded. ”Maybe not nine more, like mom, but one or two would be nice.”
Jon and Tracey looked at each other knowingly.
”This will give us a chance to expand our family in a way the three of us can't do together. Tracey can't get pregnant, and – your fine hips notwithstanding – you can't either.”
“You told her that's not why you want her to be our wife.”
“And it isn't. But it's a bonus that she wants kids. Just like it's a bonus that you wanted to help raise ours. But I still would have loved you if you hadn't.”
And with that, it was as if all apprehension left Stephen. He nodded and pulled the stack of notes towards him. “I'm going to re-cast my vote now, so you'll both have to look away.”
When Olivia had managed to assure Jon that really, she understood that he couldn't get down on his knees, she opened the box and let out a girlish scream. The ring inside was made out of white gold; sleek and elegant. It was beautiful, feminine and looked very different from the ring her brother wife wore.
She examined it closely, making sure not to slip it on her finger by accident. She was old fashioned enough to want Jon to be the one to place the ring on her finger, and not before the ceremony. Then again, she would be entering a non-legal, bi-gendered, secular, plural marriage, so she could probably make her own rules.
”Huh.”
Jon blinked. ”What?”
The ring already had an inscription. In beautiful, cursive writing it said:
”02.29.2012. Olivia & Jon (1/3)”
Stephen had almost been surprised when he realized how easy it would be to get Jon to fall in love with him. All he had to do was to wait until Jon's marriage fell apart and step in to fill the void when it did.
He would offer up his guest room, while the wife took control of the apartment and sold Jon's favorite furniture on E-Bay. (Wives did that, he knew from experience.)
He would be Jon's shoulder to cry on, his steady rock to lean on, and then, during one of the nightly comfort-sessions, his hand would slip below Jon's waist, and Jon would look up, startled, but with an expression that communicated 'Stephen, I trust you' and Stephen would smile in a way that communicated “You're right to trust me, baby, I'll be the wildest stallion you'll ever ride but I won't ever throw you off” and then he would lean forward until their lips met.
It was almost too simple.
All Jon's wife would have to do was to break his heart into tiny little pieces and be heartless enough during the divorce proceedings that all of Jon's trust in her was destroyed, but not heartless enough to not be granted full custody of the children.
Stephen smiled to himself as he watched his soon-to-be-boyfriend setting the table with his soon-to-be-ex-wife, ring-less hands moving in perfect co-ordination.
Any day now.
It's almost midnight when they finally let Rachel go. She doesn't stop to wash the make-up off her face, just gets in the car and drives. She has no doubt that Meghan will still be awake when she gets there. Her new lover is a nocturnal animal, a party girl made for staying up late and sleeping in. Rachel has taken to watching the morning news with her headphones on whenever she stays over in Meghan's tiny apartment. Susan always ate breakfast with her, and part of her misses that, but Rachel is making an effort not to need too much.
She was the younger woman once, too.
The drive takes less than twenty minutes. The hallway is dark but there is light streaming out of the bed room.
Meghan is indeed awake, pouring over a stack of papers with a marker cap between her teeth. It's no doubt the transcript for her upcoming book, which she has told Rachel will be the wildest, most entertaining road trip account ever.
She looks exhausted, but when she sees Rachel she lights up. Her bleached hair is tied in a sloppy pony tail and her eyes look tired under the thick frames that Rachel knows so well.
"Hey, baby. Welcome home."
"Thanks. So what have you been up to?"
Rachel slips off her shoes and curls up on the bed next to Meghan. Meghan's body is radiating heat and she almost instinctively presses against it. Like a cat against a radiator.
"Not much, just working on Bitch. I can't get over this stupid passage."
Rachel has read the draft several times and the nicest thing she could say about it without lying is that it's moderately amusing. She presses her face against the side of Meghan's neck.
"Do you want me to take a look at it?"
"No, it's okay. My brain is too fried right now, anyway."
Meghan sighs and puts the pen and the stack of papers on the night stand.
Rachel knows that Meghan will ask for her help tomorrow. She silently vows to give constructive advice while sounding enthusiastic and supportive. She won't acknowledge that she wouldn't read it if Meghan wasn't her girlfriend, just like she never acknowledges the grammatical errors in Meghan's columns, or the simple fact that no one would care about Meghan's opinions if it wasn't for her last name.
She pinches Meghan on the nose.
"You're wearing my glasses."
Meghan smiles sheepishly. It's not the let's-have-crazy-sex-smile but the I-love-you-so-much-and-it's-time-for-cuddling-smile. She wraps her arm around Rachel's shoulder.
"Do they make me look smart like you?"
Rachel smiles. "Definitely."
