![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaSometimes I have conversations with people where they tell me all about the epic badfic of their souls, all the really ridiculous, over the top, totally self-indulgent things they would write, if it weren't for that tiny filter that stops them from actually going all the way and producing that sort of stuff. The thing about these conversations is that they always make me realize that I have no such filter; the ridiculous stuff in my brain is pretty much the ridiculous stuff I end up writing.
As a wise![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bexless said once, we should all be very grateful my mind is not full of more healing cocks.
Uh, all that said, here's 1000 words of some fic where Pete Wentz's teenaged spawn makes out with Gerard Way's teenaged spawn. Yeah.
There'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too
by Pearl-o
*****
The first time Bronx met Jeanne D'Arc Ballato-Way, she was hanging upside down from a spindly New Jersey tree branch, approximately five minutes away from breaking her right arm.
Bronx was eight at the time; she was seven and a half. Mom was on tour in Asia and he and Dad were living in the brownstone in Brooklyn again while Bronx went through third grade. Bronx liked New York a lot, even more than LA; LA was sunnier and warmer and the house was bigger, but New York was always busy and crowded and loud and exciting. New Jersey was something else entirely, but it was Mikey Way and Alicia's tenth anniversary party, and Dad said they were going even after Bronx told him (two times) that he was pretty sure he was allergic to Jersey and if he left the city limits he might die of the plague.
The party was pretty boring. It wasn't a fancy party, just a lot of people at the house milling around and all the grown-ups yelling and laughing at each other. Bronx only knew who about half of the adults were, but everybody who knew who he was, and all the kids there were younger than him, most of them practically babies. He took refuge in the back yard, way out by all the trees, playing with the Ways' dogs when he could get them to pay attention to him.
The first word Jeannie said to him was "Boo!" He was tussling with Poundcake over a piece of rope when she shouted it from right behind him, and it made him jump and make a funny noise that embarrassed him immediately afterwards, when he turned around and saw it was just some girl in a tree making funny faces.
She was hanging by her knees, even though she was in a skirt, and he could see her dinosaur underpants. Her hair was really dark brown, maybe even black, and it hung in pigtails on either side of her face. Her face was really red and shiny, which made sense since she was hanging upside down, and kind of chubby.
"You're Pete's," the girl said.
Bronx scowled at her. She just smiled at him.
"You have blood on your shirt," she said, with no trace of alarm.
Bronx looked down at himself and poked at the small red spot by his arm. "That's punch. From inside."
The girl made another squirmy face. "That's way less interesting. You should have said it was blood anyway. I tell everybody my dress is sewn with hair from dead dolls instead of from normal thread."
"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," Bronx said. He turned away from her and back to the dog, putting his back into it a little more than was really necessary, just so she would notice he was done talking to her.
"Hey, watch this," the girl said behind him, but he very purposefully didn't look back and watch her, which was how Bronx totally missed her entire dismount and was unable to explain to any of the grown-ups who would soon be flocking around them exactly how it was that Jeannie had managed to break the bone in two different places getting down. (Frances, who was the first one to the scene when Jeannie starting crying, gave him dirty looks the whole time, too, like it was his fault somehow. Like he had anything to do with it! At least Bronx would have been smart enough to have climbed a tree that didn't look like it could even hold its own weight anyway. It was annoying, really.)
The second time Bronx met Jeanne D'Arc Ballato-Way, he was sixteen and so was she, and it was summer in Chicago, and he didn't know who she was at first, just that there was a really pretty girl sitting cross-legged on top one of the the picnic tables over past the tour buses. Bronx was hiding from his own bus -- Dad was throwing up, because it was the start of a new tour, and Mom was busy comforting him, and Hemmy and Rigby and Cagney and Justinian were all yipping and fighting and chewing on things, and Bronx just wanted some fresh air.
She was right side up this time, but her hair was still dark, dyed jet black, and it was still in pigtails, braided just past her shoulders. Her face wasn't red this time, though, but pale like a porcelain doll. She was barefoot, biting her nails methodically and scowling out into the sunshine.
Bronx ran his hand through his hair instinctively and felt himself break out into a smile.
He got her to let him kiss her before they even found out each other's last names. That was nice, but it would have been nicer if they hadn't been interrupting by her sisters, shrieking and cooing "Jeannie's got a boooooooyfriend" at the top of their lungs and making kissy faces and smoochy noises all around them. It was when Jeannie sighed and introduced them both -- Princess Elena, aka Ellie, aged twelve, and Fatima Maria, aka Fatty ("it's Tima!"), aged eight -- that Bronx finally felt the spark of realization.
"Yep," Jeannie said, smiling a little and rolling her eyes. "We're another part of the great MCR traveling circus. There are a dozen of my cousins running around here and there, too."
"Oh," said Bronx. "Well, I'm -- I'm Bronx Wentz."
"Yeah, I know." She raised an eyebrow at him as she stood up, dusting her hands off on her jeans. "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this summer."
Bronx watched her walk away with her sisters still chattering all around her. He suddenly felt much more excited about this tour than he had a half hour ago.
As a wise
bexless said once, we should all be very grateful my mind is not full of more healing cocks.Uh, all that said, here's 1000 words of some fic where Pete Wentz's teenaged spawn makes out with Gerard Way's teenaged spawn. Yeah.
There'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too
by Pearl-o
*****
The first time Bronx met Jeanne D'Arc Ballato-Way, she was hanging upside down from a spindly New Jersey tree branch, approximately five minutes away from breaking her right arm.
Bronx was eight at the time; she was seven and a half. Mom was on tour in Asia and he and Dad were living in the brownstone in Brooklyn again while Bronx went through third grade. Bronx liked New York a lot, even more than LA; LA was sunnier and warmer and the house was bigger, but New York was always busy and crowded and loud and exciting. New Jersey was something else entirely, but it was Mikey Way and Alicia's tenth anniversary party, and Dad said they were going even after Bronx told him (two times) that he was pretty sure he was allergic to Jersey and if he left the city limits he might die of the plague.
The party was pretty boring. It wasn't a fancy party, just a lot of people at the house milling around and all the grown-ups yelling and laughing at each other. Bronx only knew who about half of the adults were, but everybody who knew who he was, and all the kids there were younger than him, most of them practically babies. He took refuge in the back yard, way out by all the trees, playing with the Ways' dogs when he could get them to pay attention to him.
The first word Jeannie said to him was "Boo!" He was tussling with Poundcake over a piece of rope when she shouted it from right behind him, and it made him jump and make a funny noise that embarrassed him immediately afterwards, when he turned around and saw it was just some girl in a tree making funny faces.
She was hanging by her knees, even though she was in a skirt, and he could see her dinosaur underpants. Her hair was really dark brown, maybe even black, and it hung in pigtails on either side of her face. Her face was really red and shiny, which made sense since she was hanging upside down, and kind of chubby.
"You're Pete's," the girl said.
Bronx scowled at her. She just smiled at him.
"You have blood on your shirt," she said, with no trace of alarm.
Bronx looked down at himself and poked at the small red spot by his arm. "That's punch. From inside."
The girl made another squirmy face. "That's way less interesting. You should have said it was blood anyway. I tell everybody my dress is sewn with hair from dead dolls instead of from normal thread."
"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," Bronx said. He turned away from her and back to the dog, putting his back into it a little more than was really necessary, just so she would notice he was done talking to her.
"Hey, watch this," the girl said behind him, but he very purposefully didn't look back and watch her, which was how Bronx totally missed her entire dismount and was unable to explain to any of the grown-ups who would soon be flocking around them exactly how it was that Jeannie had managed to break the bone in two different places getting down. (Frances, who was the first one to the scene when Jeannie starting crying, gave him dirty looks the whole time, too, like it was his fault somehow. Like he had anything to do with it! At least Bronx would have been smart enough to have climbed a tree that didn't look like it could even hold its own weight anyway. It was annoying, really.)
The second time Bronx met Jeanne D'Arc Ballato-Way, he was sixteen and so was she, and it was summer in Chicago, and he didn't know who she was at first, just that there was a really pretty girl sitting cross-legged on top one of the the picnic tables over past the tour buses. Bronx was hiding from his own bus -- Dad was throwing up, because it was the start of a new tour, and Mom was busy comforting him, and Hemmy and Rigby and Cagney and Justinian were all yipping and fighting and chewing on things, and Bronx just wanted some fresh air.
She was right side up this time, but her hair was still dark, dyed jet black, and it was still in pigtails, braided just past her shoulders. Her face wasn't red this time, though, but pale like a porcelain doll. She was barefoot, biting her nails methodically and scowling out into the sunshine.
Bronx ran his hand through his hair instinctively and felt himself break out into a smile.
He got her to let him kiss her before they even found out each other's last names. That was nice, but it would have been nicer if they hadn't been interrupting by her sisters, shrieking and cooing "Jeannie's got a boooooooyfriend" at the top of their lungs and making kissy faces and smoochy noises all around them. It was when Jeannie sighed and introduced them both -- Princess Elena, aka Ellie, aged twelve, and Fatima Maria, aka Fatty ("it's Tima!"), aged eight -- that Bronx finally felt the spark of realization.
"Yep," Jeannie said, smiling a little and rolling her eyes. "We're another part of the great MCR traveling circus. There are a dozen of my cousins running around here and there, too."
"Oh," said Bronx. "Well, I'm -- I'm Bronx Wentz."
"Yeah, I know." She raised an eyebrow at him as she stood up, dusting her hands off on her jeans. "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this summer."
Bronx watched her walk away with her sisters still chattering all around her. He suddenly felt much more excited about this tour than he had a half hour ago.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
4/12/08 18:37 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 18:41 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 18:48 (UTC)PEARLLLL I LOVE YOUUUUU! I HAVE BEEN RANDOMLY PISSY AND ANGRY ALL DAY BUT NOW I CAN'T STOP SMILING LIKE A CRAZY PERSON. OF FUCKING COURSE GEE AND LYN WOULD NAME THEIR BABY JEANNE D'ARC, OF COURSE! I AM SLIGHTLY PUT OUT BY THE FACT THAT NONE OF THE WAY KIDS ARE CALLED OCTOPUSSY, TOUGH, BUT OH WELL. YOU CAN'T HAVE EVERYTHING. :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
(no subject)
4/12/08 18:49 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 18:53 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 19:01 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 19:03 (UTC)BY WHICH I MEAN THIS IS ADORABLE AND I LOVE YOU. :DDDDDDDDDD
(no subject)
4/12/08 19:13 (UTC)Poor Fatty.
(no subject)
4/12/08 19:17 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 19:51 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 19:52 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 19:55 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 20:53 (UTC)AHHH WAYBIE AND WENTZSPAWN TOGETHER AT LAST. ♥________♥
Also Ellie and Fatty? WAY TO MAKE MY HEART EXPLODE FROM AWESOME.
LOLOLOLOL A DOZEN MIKEYWAY/ALICIA CHILDREN ALL :| AT THE WORLD.
(no subject)
4/12/08 21:42 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 22:03 (UTC)(no subject)
4/12/08 22:36 (UTC)JEANNE D'ARC BALLATO-WAAAAAAAAAY.
(no subject)
4/12/08 23:25 (UTC)(no subject)
5/12/08 01:25 (UTC)*love*
(no subject)
5/12/08 03:14 (UTC)(no subject)
5/12/08 03:51 (UTC)(no subject)
5/12/08 03:54 (UTC)(no subject)
5/12/08 04:02 (UTC)(no subject)
5/12/08 04:07 (UTC)Also their kid is that really bizarrely good-natured kind of baby, the type where you get can just set them down somewhere, and not only will they stay where you put them, but they make friends with the wall and the carpet and any other inanimate objects and hold a conversation with them while giggling and babbling a lot.
Also also the first time Bronx and Jeannie sneak off with unattended beer during the tour and get supersmashed, when Jeannie is all hellish-hangover the next day, Mikeyway is the one who is all disapproving face >:| disappointed in her. Gerard is all LOL MOAST HYPOCRITICAL.
(no subject)
5/12/08 04:08 (UTC)(It was the Noah and the Whale lyric taunting you, wasn't it? Ha.)
(no subject)
5/12/08 04:12 (UTC)Mikey is just concerned, okay?! He doesn't want any of the babbies having the problems he had! Mikeyway: Walking PSA.