Hi.

[schmerica]

I am making a list of reasons today is, in fact, secretly a good day. It includes things like "I have Coke to drink" and "Gerard Way exists" and "I got to talk to my fox1013 last night" and "My mommy sent me a package that not only included the Edward Gorey book I left at home but also a really pretty new skirt and corduroy messenger bag she bought for me" and "One of my housemates was incredibly nice and helpful beyond what I could expect" and "I finally figured out how to do the household chore it is my turn to perform after wandering into the room and staring blankly for two days" and "Even when things really suck, I have friends and am not alone."

♥

So this is one of those posts where someone on your friends list asks for you to give them comment fic, even though they don't have anything to give you in return.

Tomorrow I have three classes, and one of them is a midterm exam and one of them is my really hard class where I really want to impress the professor and one of them I have an important assignment due and basically I am already kind of freaking out about the whole thing and am scared I am going to end up hiding in bed with the covers over my head, and that is the last thing on Earth I want to do, SO.

So I'm thinking bribes are the best way to go here. This actually works on two levels for me: one, nice things make me feel better --> less anxious --> want to earn my reward. Even more, though, it makes me responsible to people I like, want to please, and can't avoid or lie to. Seriously, guys, this is one method where I can make my neuroses work for me. Tomorrow I'll get back from my last class in the evening and sit down to check my friends list I won't think "that person did something nice to me, and I let them down." I will think "That person is awesome! Yay that person!"

Uh, so, all that said, if you wanted to write me comment fic, I would think you were the peachy keen bee's knees. Things I that I happen to be particularly fond of include:

Pete/Mikey, Frank/Bob, Gerard/Ray, Gerard/Bob, Brian/Gerard, Brian/anybody, Pete/Joe, Pete/Mikey/Alicia, Gerard/Lyn-Z, Waycest, Mikeyway/anybody, MCR gen of any kind, underage shenanigans, opposite-sex AUs, gender issues (cross-dressing, trans stuff, gender identity in general, whatever), secret marriages and marriages of convenience, exes who remain best friends, first kisses, awkward handjobs, dudes coming on other dudes' faces, time travel, comic books, cuddling, gangbangs, threesomes, and good-natured mocking.

(Which is to say ... I'm really, really, really easy?)

Comments

Re: HI I SHOULDN'T BE WRITING FANFICTION RIGHT NOW. SHH.

[sociofemme.livejournal.com]

*loves girl!Bob beyond bearing* ♥!!!!!!

Re: Ahem.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

"Don't think I'm gonna fucking last that long," Frank says. Bob's response is to bite his earlobe, not hard enough to damage, but hard enough to make Frank feel it, make him shiver, a long jerk with no rhythm.

"We have plenty of time, though," Ray says. "I bet Gee would help you get it up again. Right, Gee?"

"Fuck, yeah," Gee says, and his voice is still lazy and dreamlike, but there's a spark of eagerness under there, too. "We can do this all fucking night, dude, it'll be ... it'll be like an orgy, dude. We'll have a fucking bacchanalia. But just the sex part, not the drinking part. I can't drink. But it'll be fucking awesome, I swear."

"Stop talking, Gee," Ray says fondly. "You're missing the show."

"What? Oh," Gee says, and there's a sudden silence.

Frank's forehead is pressed hard against Bob's shoulder, which is warm and slick with sweat and smells good, smells like Bob. Fucking Bob, who has his hands on Frank's ass, supporting most of his weight, pulling him up and in until they're pressed so tight against each other that Frank can't breathe.

"You're going to lose it as soon as I get my hand on your cock, aren't you?" Bob says.

"Stop teasing--"

"It's not teasing," Bob says, in a fake-innocent voice that Frank recognizes, because Frank has used that voice millions of times, way more than Bob has, "this is genuine curiosity."

here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[impertinence.livejournal.com]

ugh, bad days. I hug you. ♥

Rae was taller than Gerard, and better at guitar, and a hell of a lot hotter. Also, more boobular.

"Boobular's not a word," Mikey said, meticulously straightening his hair.

"Her tits, Mikes, have you even seen them?"

Mikey smirked at him. "You were always blocking the view. Except for the one time I slipped on your drool."

"I can't help it." Gerard sighed dramatically. "She's so talented, Mikey. I'd write her a song and she'd just make it better, that's how talented she is."

Mikey shrugged. "Ask her out."

"She's my band." Gerard's life was horrible. Painful. Completely -

"I'd still go out with you," Rae said, sitting down next to him.

Gerard gaped. And gaped. And then gaped some more, this time while Mikey snickered.

"We could hit the comic shop, see a movie." Rae smiled. "And then maybe buy ice cream and make out."

Gerard couldn't talk. Oh God, he couldn't talk, he had laryngitis and he was going to die and never get a chance to -

"He says yes," Mikey said, sounding supremely bored. "And also that you're pretty." He looked over at Gerard. "See, I was nice and didn't tell her you called her boobular."

Rae laughed; Gerard was pretty sure it was on purpose, because things...jiggled. "Thanks," she said, and then leaned forward, kissing Gerard quickly. Her breasts pressed against Gerard's chest; Gerard tried not to think about licking her all over.

"Tomorrow?" he said finally, very nearly squeaking.

Rae smiled. "Tomorrow," she said, squeezing Gerard's hand with the fingers that Gerard fervently hoped would be wrapped around his cock - or in his ass, really - very soon.

Gerard refrained from making victory arms until she left, at least. He was very proud.

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Gerard! Such a doofus, my god! Mikey's bored helpfulness and Rae's awesomeness! I loooooooove it.

[forevernew.livejournal.com]

You know, the weirdest thing is, I hardly ever write Chris on my own! There's just something about you asking for commentfic that shoves him into my mind, even though I know you Don't Give A Shit. Strange. *ponders*

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[impertinence.livejournal.com]

:D good luck with tomorrow, too.

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[sociofemme.livejournal.com]

awwwwww! so cute! <3!

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[impertinence.livejournal.com]

Thank you! ♥

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[nova-bright.livejournal.com]

Girl!Ray! *cheers forever*

This is just marvelous! :D

[clumsygyrl.livejournal.com]

uhm... i wrote this and thought of you.

angsty and whatnot. bodyswitch. uhm. do not read if you do not want to be angsted.

http://community.livejournal.com/bandom365/8757.html

[nova-bright.livejournal.com]

In parts to come there is Rhyanna Ross, who goes to a public school, and seems like this really stoned, if occasionally uptight hippy chick. But she will CUT YOU if you look at her girlfriend, Ray for too long.

Ray doesn't understand why all of her friends won't spend time with Rhyanna. She thinks that the other girl is made of stoned kittens and sunbeams and love.

[nova-bright.livejournal.com]

The incident that got Jemmy expelled was her 40 minute epic naked marathon around the school, wearing only combat boots and an old beanie with eye holes cut out of it pulled over her face.

Unfortunately, everyone knew what she looked like naked by then, and she'd cut open the top of beanie, as to not squash her spiked hair. The nuns weren't happy.

[nova-bright.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thank you!:D

Mostly, Lyn-z's devices have been drawing giant dragons with Jemmy's hairstyle striking down suspiciously nun shaped goblins, and being given constant afterschool detention. Oh, and one time she broke two toes, winded herself and got a concussion from attempting to stage dive onto a group of girls at a cafeteria table.

[bexless.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, I actually meant the second. If you need someone to look at it, you know.

123bexATgmailDOTcom.

Hooray!

[eckerlilas.livejournal.com]

*journal hop*

Mitch! This was seriously PRESH. You have to finish it!♥

[suckmyglock.livejournal.com]

Catholic schoolgirls! Gerard still being called Gerard! Jemima's constant aggravated nudity! WIN!!!

[frausorge]

Gerard came onto the bus with with his show makeup still on and a cigarette butt clutched between his fingers.

"Hi, G," Ray said.

Gerard lifted his chin in response and stubbed the cigarette onto a plate full of toast crumbs on the counter. "Mikey around?" he said.

"Yeah, in back," Ray said, "but he's got-" The bunkroom door closed behind Gerard. "- Pete with him," Ray finished. He sighed and looked back at the TV.

Some minutes later the door opened again and Pete came out. He was wearing jeans but nothing else, and his tattoos pulled and stretched as he lifted a hand to scratch through his hair. "Hey, Toro," he said.

"Hey," Ray said.

Pete sat down next to Ray on the couch. He didn't say anything else, so Ray couldn't have accused him of interrupting the show Ray was watching, but he chuckled under his breath a few times, a low, warm, distracting sound, and he would not stop fiddling with his hair.

Eventually the door opened yet again. Gerard was wearing a clean shirt now but his makeup looked, if anything, even more messed up than before. "Pete?" he said, and jerked his chin in the direction of the bunks. Pete stood up, shot Ray a grin, and made his way past Gerard into the back. Gerard stood aside for Pete to go through and then retreated back inside himself. The door fell shut behind him.

Ray got up, started the coffee maker going, and then searched around till he found his bag with his iPod crammed under the table. He sat down with his mug held tight between his hands and turned the volume up high.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

*beams* You think of complete fucked-up-edness and weird Waycest and I'm the first thing that comes to mind? I cannot tell you how awesome that is.

Also, wow, that was really powerful, dude. Nice.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow, this is really excellent -- all subtle implications and unsaid things. Pete! Gerard! MIKEY! Ray's life is really very hard.

[clumsygyrl.livejournal.com]

thank you! ;)

Re: here, have some girl!Ray/Gerard dorkiness

[reilael.livejournal.com]

Rae's an amazon? A 'boobular' one? AWESOME. Oh, and Gerard's triumphant \o/ ? Ahahhahaa! *patpats Gerard's dorky little head*

[hobbledehoy.livejournal.com]

there was a gerard cat macro, but i could not find it, even though i have been looking like crazy. so these instead. :D

http://i31.tinypic.com/11m6k4m.jpg
http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/2008/01/kitteh-tamed-by.html
http://i30.tinypic.com/2hp5b0l.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v57/PreciousCandy/tabletocloset128462048892031250.jpg
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/ReijiGin/lolcats/no1getsinto128416254747615000.jpg

why so epic? (1)

[sinsense.livejournal.com]

This isn't finished! And inspired by an incidental mention of something in besquared recent story.

Frank doesn't make a big deal about it. He doesn't get the guys together and give them all a talk, like Gerard would. He's not quiet about it, either; after all, it's Frank.

Brian finds out about it the same way he finds out everything: he walks in on it. This is tame, compared to some of the other things he's witnessed. It's just a flash of pink lace when Brian opens the door of yet another dingy motel room, and then Frank finishes buttoning up his jeans. Frank doesn't even pause. He bends over -- the satiny trim peeks over the waistband of his jeans -- and comes up with a black t-shirt, tugging it over his head and then shoving his arms through the sleeves.

"Did I know about that?" Brian says, idly.

Frank raises an eyebrow, and Brian snaps the elastic of his own underwear against his stomach, once. "Oh! No, I guess not? I don't wear them for concerts."

"Okay," Brian says.

"They're not breathable," Frank adds, and they snicker together. Frank grabs the room key off the bureau, and he and Brian both pause at the door to check -- wallet, phone, keys, cigarettes, lighter -- before they're off to yet another shitty diner.

why so epic? (2)

[sinsense.livejournal.com]

The thing is, Brian has already had the top ten shameless band shopping trips of his career. Jepha's order of magnum condoms, three bananas, duct tape, lube, and straight razors only reached number three. He's willing to blame all those other bands for what happens at Target; they're the ones who encouraged his complete lack of shame and insane dedication to his job.

The checkout clerk keeps glancing up at him as she runs pair after pair of panties across the scanner. Brian maybe went a little bit overboard when he realized how cheap their selection was, but he figures it'll keep him from having to restock. The super soft thongs were only three for twenty dollars, for Christ's sake. The stores always fuck him on that, though; three was too few, so of course he had to get six. Brian's pretty sure Frank's into lace, so it wasn't like he could put the peach or the purple ones back once he'd picked up those. And he just likes the others. Motherfucking Batman boy-shorts, how the hell was he supposed to pass that up?

Of course, he also had to buy a whisk, two sets of shoelaces, Frizz Ease, and a bunch of drawing pads, so he forgives the girl for looking at him a little weird. He grins at her when she hands him his receipt, and her lips quirk up at the corners. "You have a great day now," he says, and walks out with a bounce in his step.

The guys are back from the afterparty by the time he gets done with the shopping; he timed it just right. Brian hands the whisk to Mikey, the shoelaces and drawing pads to Gerard, and the Frizz Ease to Ray. "Here's the undershirts you wanted," Brian says lightly, and passes the last bag over to Frank.

Frank looks inside the bag, opens his mouth, hesitates, and shuts it again. Brian grins at him, but Frank doesn't meet his eyes; Brian settles in a seat and faces front, smarting a little, but mostly worried he's hurt one of his guys.

"Can we crash together?" Frank murmurs to him as they turn into the parking lot of the Knight's Inn. "Give Ray his own room."

"Sure," Brian says, "Hey, Ray--" because that's what he does, it's his job.

why so epic? (3)

[sinsense.livejournal.com]

Brian's not sure whether Frank's going to fight him or thank him; Frank's shoulders are tight, but he put his hand on Brian's shoulder when he levered himself out of the van. He's got the bag held loosely in his fingers, but he hasn't turned back to see if Brian is following. If it's going to be a fight, Brian won't mind; he'll apologize, move on. He just hates the feeling that he's done his job badly, that he's let somebody -- let Frank -- down.

The door is a little warped, and Brian has to lift up on the doorknob to get the lock to click into place. One day his band won't have stay in shitholes, he thinks, and turns around.

Frank's got his shirt off, bunched in his hands. The way he glances up through his eyelashes, the way he bites his lip, should make him look unsure, but his mouth is curving up at the corners, and his eyes look giddy. "You bought me women's underwear," he says. Brian exhales, relieved, and shrugs.

"You were wearing ugly shit."

"Can I-- I'm kind of drunk," Frank starts, like an explanation, and Brian waves him off.

"Whatever you want. I've got a date with a beer and TV."

Frank takes the bag into the bathroom, but he leaves the door slightly ajar. Brian cracks open a beer and flips on the television, which of course has no selection to speak of; he settles on CNN and scoots back until his back is against the headboard.

The bathroom is just a shower, a toilet, and a towel rack behind a door; there's a counter outside the bathroom with a sink and a mirror that stretches across the wall. Brian didn't even think of this until he's a few sips into his beer, when Frank ducks his head around the doorway and says, "Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"I-- I kind of want the mirror."

"Oh," Brian says, "Did you. Huh. You want me to take off for a little bit?"

"Nah," Frank says. His hair's falling over one eye, and he tosses it back. "If it freaks you out, though, you can leave."

"Can't say it does," Brian says, and turns his eyes back to the TV.

[And, okay, there will be more later, but I have to do laundry and go to NYC, so I knew it would be kind of hard to predict when. Ahahaha wtf self?)