A/N: I've tried this for a couple of other fandoms, and wanted to push myself to write a little more OTH fic.
The idea is you put your iPod on shuffle, and write a short ficlet inspired by each song that comes on (for ten songs.) The catch is you're only allowed to write for as long as the song lasts - typically three or four minutes.
It really forces you to go with your first impression/idea. It's really challenging and lots of fun. Very addicting once you get going - I'd definitely recommend you give it a go if you think it sounds exciting! Just choose a fandom, character or pairing, and grab your iPod!
I chose to focus on Jake and Peyton for this collection. Comments always appreciated. :) Particularly if you want to see a longer version of any of these.
EDIT: REGINA SPEKTOR
Peyton sniffed and looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Even in this state, she could see the dark circles under her eyes and the hollow shadows in her cheeks.
Why didn't anyone else notice them?
She wiped her eyes and threw the empty vial back into her purse, sniffing again and already feeling the dizzying effects of the drug. She breathed a sigh of relief and washed her face in the basin.
Nobody had noticed so far.
It wouldn't take long, though. Even she knew that – even now, as she found herself light-headed and giggling with relief, troubles slowly being replaced with absolute nothingness. It wouldn't take long. She was distracted, and lies were hard to keep track of when she couldn't remember telling them in the first place.
She had been there for everyone else; no hesitation. She had listened to breakup woes and family stresses and misunderstandings and angry accusations...
Yet in her moment of need, she had found herself entirely alone.
And at her lowest point, in a rain-soaked street lined with shadows and lies and guilt, Jake had stepped out from beneath the streetlight and she'd realised someone had always kept her in his heart and in his mind.
THE UNIVERSE & U: KT TUNSTALL [ACOUSTIC EXTRAVAGANZA]
It hadn't been that long, really. It only seemed longer, like lifetimes had lived and died in the space of a handful of years.
She could see it in Jake's eyes – the lessons learned, the acceptances and assurances that had come his way. She wondered if she held the same sort of look in her eyes.
She felt travel-weary, like she'd run miles, as though she'd been running from things and running to things, and it had all culminated to here and now.
Bed in the afternoon, with Jake wrapped around her and the window wide open to the warm afternoon.
She thought about her marriage proposal to him when they were so young, and she cringed as she remembered how hopeful and innocent she had been, even with all the mess around her at the time. And she thought about the Peyton Sawyer of here and now, in the sun-warmed bedroom, and she felt content and sure of herself in a way she'd never felt before.
She realised whenever she'd felt this way in the past, Jake had been the one beside her, like he was the missing part of a much larger puzzle; like he fit into her own personal universe and made it work.
It hadn't been that long, really, but it had certainly seemed longer. And it seemed only right that no matter how much time passed, he'd always find her again, because her universe needed him in order to work and exist.
There was no avoiding it – they belonged together, and she breathed in the warmth of his skin and chalked that up to another lesson learned between them.
OLD TOWN: THE CORRS [UNPLUGGED]
It was somewhere random; some small, lost little town in the middle of Illinois, of all places. He was playing in the bar and she was there for the night on her way through to Chicago for a conference.
Some small, lost little town.
He bought her a drink, and she asked about Jenny and they talked niceties for a long time, until they were lit only by the beer light above the bar and the jukebox was humming soft love songs from decades past.
He admired the ring on her finger when he was too drunk to hide his heartache at seeing it there. She saw the lost look in his eyes and knew she'd been the one to put it there, years ago.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she wished it sounded less like tequila and more like her.
"That was years ago," he said in response, but he couldn't quite meet her eyes and she wondered just how deep someone's feelings could run even after years and years of nothing.
When she tried to reach the depth of her own feelings for him, she realised years hid nothing and regret didn't ever disappear.
ICICLES: PATTY GRIFFIN
The night was silver and grey, all shadows and bare branches and soft, foggy breath.
"Just a bit longer," Peyton whispered, clutching the front of Jake's shirt. Even in the weak light of the moon, she could see his smile.
"Can't, Peyton..."
"Five minutes." She pressed her forehead against his firm shoulder, aching for their time together to stretch on just a little longer. Early mornings be damned; responsibilities could go to hell for five more minutes of warmth and pleasure.
The light from the house spilled through the open doorway behind her, lighting up the front porch. Jake's arm had curled its way around her waist.
"Five more minutes."
"It was five more minutes fifteen minutes ago," he whispered, and he was half-laughing and half-torn.
She kissed him again. "Three minutes."
He snorted and she giggled and took his hand. She was warm against him even as the night pressed in against them, cold and unforgiving on all sides, and time slid past faster than either of them cared to notice.
BE HERE NOW: RAY LAMONTAGNE
Jake threaded his fingers slowly through Peyton's hair, listening to her sleep-heavy breath, her body finally still and calm beside him. He could still smell sweat and sick, and her face was still streaked with angry tears, but she was sleeping, and he finally let himself breathe out, out, out.
He hadn't realised he'd been holding himself so tense until the opportunity came for him to let it out.
He glanced to the small, empty vial on the bedside table beside them.
He didn't know how often she'd been using drugs, or how much, or how long it had been going on. He didn't know if what she was suffering was withdrawal or guilt and shame, or a bit of everything.
He ran the edge of his thumb over the cold hollow of her cheek, watching her lashes twitch slightly as she felt his presence in her sleep.
Her fingers were still trapped and curled in the hem of his t-shirt, her leg draped over his and hooked around him tightly, like she was expecting him to melt away in the night.
He whispered things to her in an effort to keep himself awake, because somehow he couldn't allow himself to fall asleep when she was still in such a state of need.
He whispered things and promised she wouldn't wake up alone; that he'd be there until they both knew what was ahead. Until they both knew it wouldn't be scary; that the world wouldn't crumble if they parted again.
He pulled one of her ringlets straight, gently, and watched it slip back into a corkscrew again. He combed it away from her face, he stroked the pale line of her neck with the tips of his fingers and he watched her chest rising and falling with each slow, peaceful breath.
He soothed away the streaks on her face and pressed kisses against the crown of her head, and in the midnight hours he felt alternating guilt and anger – at himself and at everyone else; everyone but Peyton – for what had happened.
And he promised no more – no more loneliness or heartache for either of them.
GIVE ME ONE REASON: TRACEY CHAPMAN
He'd said no.
Peyton had felt humiliation and shame and anger.
Anger was the safest. How dare he say no, when Haley and Nathan could get married and be in love, and she and Jake so obviously belonged together? Why shouldn't it work out for them?
She hovered by the Comet, desperately hoping he'd call her back and say yes; say they'd get married and live happily ever after.
But he'd already kissed her goodbye and held onto her for far too long, and she'd made it out onto the sidewalk without running back to him and now it felt too late.
She slung herself into the driver's seat and she swore to herself she wouldn't let him see her crying, because she still wanted to seem angry, because angry was safest.
He'd said no.
She looked back at him, and he looked miserable. It gave her no pleasure.
Just say it, she pleaded silently. Say it now, say yes. And I'll get out of the car and I'll come back and we'll do it; we'll live happily ever after, Jake.
He raised his hand and waved and her heart broke anew. She swallowed and nodded, fluttering shaky fingers at him in a half-wave, still desperately pleading inside her mind.
Say yes, she pleaded. You just gotta say it once and I'll get out of the car and I'll stay...
She turned the key in the ignition and set her sight on the road, feeling the ache of too many tears behind her eyes.
It doesn't have to be now, she reasoned, and even her thoughts sounded choked. Just don't let it be 'no' forever, Jake.
LONG AS I CAN SEE THE LIGHT: CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL
They spread a blanket out on the bare floor beneath the bay window, candles flickering and guttering in old jars on the sill.
He played his guitar while she drew, her pencils slowly spreading outwards in a haphazard collection, scattered across the dusty floorboards. He kicked his shoes off and his toes nudged against her ankles as she lay sprawled in front of him, her shirt open to the third button, the swell of her breast warm and soft in the low light.
"Why'd you buy this place, again?" he asked, and he looked up at the exposed beams running across the ceiling, and the hole in the wall through to the kitchen.
She looked up at him and grinned lazily before she said, "For nights like this."
And that shut him up. He grinned back and strummed his guitar softly, and she nodded her head slowly, tracing the lines of his face onto paper before she signed her name beneath it, as though inking a claim on him forever.
DREAM OF YOU: SHARON CORR
Peyton rolled over and let her arm stretch across the bare mattress. She sighed, her eyes falling to the late hour on the clock by her bed. She'd watched the moon track across the sky outside her window, the shadows of the bare trees outside scrolling along the ground.
She blinked slowly, having given up on sleep hours ago. Her mind was too busy thinking about one thing.
Jake was miles away. Where, exactly, she had no idea, but she hoped he felt happier and more grounded than she did at that hour.
She pulled her pillow towards her and hugged it to her chest, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breathing, willing sleep to come. She willed the night to press in against her, forcing the empty space and the shadows away. Maybe if the night was cosy; maybe if it felt as though Jake were right there up against her, then she could sleep.
She drew in another sigh, her arms tightening around the pillow, sure that she'd be thinking of him whether she were awake or not.
START ME UP: ROLLING STONES
"Jesus, Peyton..." His voice was soft and guttural, halfway between a whimper and a growl as her fingers worked their way beneath the waistband of his jeans.
"Shh," she whispered frantically, trying not to giggle and trying not to think that they were still in a place too public for this. Trying not to think about how narrow the backseat of the Comet seemed when Jake's tall frame was sprawled along it. They were all elbows and knees, but that suited her fine just then, because it meant she was all up against him.
All up against him.
"We'll get caught," he hissed, and his breath hitched when her hand curled inside his jeans.
"No we won't," she promised, clamping his earlobe between her lips.
His fingers tightened and locked onto her hips, pulling her to him so her knees spread and she was straddling his thigh. She rocked against him and listened to his breath change again, hot and damp against her temple.
"We'll be quick," she promised, and she pushed his shirt up so her other hand could slide over his stomach. She felt his body convulse as she rubbed her thumb against him.
"Fuck," he muttered, and he buried his face in her neck and hugged her to him again, sliding along the backseat of the Comet, his knees knocking against the front seat as he shrugged himself towards her.
MYSTERIOUS WAYS: U2
The doors to the basketball court burst open and Jake saw Peyton as though in slow motion.
The cheerleaders always seemed to move in slow motion. Brooke Davis seemed to have perfected the slow-motion entrance, and her team had quickly caught on.
They strolled in, all ponytails and long legs and swaying hips, a hint of midriff here and there.
Jake watched Peyton drop her bag to the floor and move seamlessly into a stretch, her t-shirt lifting to show her lower back as she leaned over.
He almost groaned aloud.
Brooke said something to her and Peyton grinned and nodded, a loose curl falling from the bun at the back of her neck. She swept it back and shifted pose again, and Jake felt a tightening in his belly as she leaned right over in front of him, her legs long and straight.
He mentally shook himself, forcing himself to look away from the leggy girls at the edge of the court, knowing they'd taught themselves to move in a way that demanded attention and admiration.
He glanced back to Peyton. Somehow it seemed natural, with her.
He blinked and blew out a huff of breath, trying to gain control of his dizzy head again.