Pinboard (turlough)
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recent bookmarks from turloughdoctorkilljoy: Ad Astra2016-10-21T02:34:50+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/8027257
turloughQUOTE: "This is likely unnecessary, but I did promise an introduction. Gerard, this is Frank Iero, the pilot responsible for bringing me the data I showed you. Frank, this is Gerard Way, my teaching assistant and colleague."
"I'm not really a colleague," said Gerard. "I'm still working on my dissertation."
"You're getting a doctorate?" Frank asked.
"Yeah. That way I can run my own expedition. Most universities won't let you run one without a PhD." Gerard explained.
"Holy shit, good for you!" Frank exclaimed, and he meant it. Gerard beamed at him.
"We have some business to attend to," Grand said, and gestured for them both to be seated. Once they were, he said, "I've made some progress since we last spoke."
"Okay, hit me." Frank leaned back in his chair and listened.
"We still don't have a team, beyond the three of us, but I have a few leads. Including funding and preservation."
"We'd need lawyers filing paperwork to make sure that companies like Delta Corp can't sneak up on us and jump our claim," Gerard explained to Frank. "So they'll be fighting for us in court while we prove the planet fits all the criteria for further scientific study."
"Which I've been informed shouldn't be too difficult," said Grant.
"How long do we have to prove it?"
"Three months after our initial landing."
"Shit." That didn't sound long to Frank.
"Nah, it's good. Like two plant samples, one water sample and a live animal should be enough," Gerard said to him.
"Okay. But let's say one of those companies decides to say fuck it and ignore the legal mumbo jumbo. It's not like we can fix it once they start tearing the place apart."
"There are defenses for cases like that." Grant pursed his lips together, as though he were thinking. "We can make the planet safe, and make sure that people who aren't supposed to be there, aren't there."
Frank nodded. "Okay. So what's next?"
"I'm working on assembling a crew, as I said. At least for our first trip," Grant replied. "And we're missing a few key players."
"Do you know any doctors that would be good for this?" Gerard asked. Grant looked at him and Gerard mumbled sheepishly, "Doesn't hurt to ask."
"You're right." Said Grant. "I'm ashamed I didn't think of it first. Frank, is there anyone?"
Frank shook his head. "All the people I know who work in engineering or medical are at Delta Corp. And I wouldn't recommend any of them even if they weren't."
"Damn," Grant murmured. "I have a lead on another scientist we can invite, but what we need a mechanic and a doctor."
"Oh! Actually I have a mechanic in mind!" Gerard reminded Grant. "I've got a meeting set up. And Mikey's still looking for doctors who fit the criteria you gave me."
"Mikey's helping?" Frank asked, surprised.
"Yeah. He still knows a billion more people than I do."
"And we can trust him, which in this early stage is very important," Grant concluded.
Frank nodded. "Yeah, that works. What else you gotta do besides all that?"
"I'll be looking at ships in a few weeks," said Grant. "As you'll be the primary pilot, I'd like you to come with me."
"You want me to help you pick out a ship?" Frank asked. He couldn't have been more surprised, since no one of Grant's status had ever taken his opinion seriously before. (55,580 words)]]>author:doctorkilljoy fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure activity:research activity:exploring beings:animals.others beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:in.space! concept:polyamory condition:injury occupation:pilot occupation:scientist occupation:explorer relationship:UST relationship:poly smut:blowjob smut:fucking smut:threesome setting:alien.planet setting:spaceship/spacestation geography:UK:Scotland band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Mindless.Self.Indulgence band:Cobra.Starship band:Gym.Class.Heroes band:Fall.Out.Boy pairing:Frank/Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pairing:Frank/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard pov:Grant.Morrison challenge:2016.BBB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-09 recced:2016-10 pairing:Gabe/Victoria/Travis(secondary)https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:ff93e83c130c/akamine_chan: Come Catch Me2016-09-21T20:19:51+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/6900508
turloughQUOTE: "What's your situation?"
"Well," Frank started. It was embarrassing, to be honest. "I'm inside the cage, of course, and the allosaurus can't get to me, thank fuck." The allosaurus opened its mouth, displaying teeth designed to tear and rend. It tried to get a good grip on the steel bars, but couldn't fit its head very far between them. It yanked and the cage jerked a few feet across the snowy ground.
About 300 feet away, Frank could see the tundra rover where Brian, Gerard, Ray, Mikey, and their A. arcticus expert, Kenojuak Ashevak, were safely ensconced, away from any allosaurus with big, gnashy teeth. There was a grinding sound, and Frank watched, alarmed, as the allosaurus chewed on one of the thick metal rods that made up walls of the cage.
"I'm safe for now, but it looks like with some effort, the allosaurus can get through the bars." He sat down on the ground and crossed his legs, because his knees were suddenly wobbly.
He could hear Kenojuak talking calmly in the background. "Well, Kenojuak says they can put a lot of pressure behind their bite, so yeah. The cage wasn't made to withstand a determined allosaurus with time on its... uh, claws," Gerard said.
"Ask him what the fuck happened," Brian said. "I swear to God, he told me he hit the mark. "
"I did!" Frank was indignant. "Tell Brian that I did!" (2,290 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff fic:genre:action/adventure beings:animals.dinosaurs concept:ordinary.lives concept:alternate.world setting:tundra geography:Canada relationship:established band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-05 recced:2016-09 activity:exploring occupation:explorerhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:ddbf82faf793/akamine_chan: Finds You in the End2016-09-21T20:11:36+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7871005
turloughQUOTE: It had been an impulsive decision, to visit the House of Secrets. Franc's life was too dangerous, too transient, for him to form bonds, and sometimes he just needed to be touched. A craving that he couldn't satisfy with drink, or powder, or the twist of his own slicked hand.
A quick trip to the House, a donation to the Mistress, and a night lost in carnal indulgence. Simple. Quick. Easy.
Franc should have known better; his Luck was never that good.
He couldn't stop thinking about the man, the way he moved, rocking slowly into Franc, making him feel the stretch and pull. The sounds he made when Franc sucked a bruise onto his thigh, the way his fingernails dug into Franc's shoulders to pull him close, *closer*, how he watched Franc's face as he drowned under the sensations trembling through him.
When he closed his eyes, Franc couldn't see anything but the man, laid out under him, strung out by Franc's touch, his face *open*, unashamed and honest. (1,500 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU activity:transformation.animate beings:dragons concept:ordinary.lives concept:magic occupation:bounty.hunter smut:anonymous.sex smut:fucking setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2016.Pod_Together +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-08 recced:2016-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:cb49d8e51e67/winterlover: 100 Ways To Say 'I Love You' (not really 100, actually)2016-09-21T19:40:31+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7932772
turloughQUOTE: Poison’s never talking to that fucker again! How could he think that Poison would let him join them for that dangerous mission! Two people were needed, so it was Ghoul and Poison. No time for discussion!
But when Jet puts a can of soda between them, Poison takes a sip and gently shoves it over the table to Kobra, because even being furious about him doesn’t mean he won’t share with his brother. (1,700 words)]]>author:winterlover fandom:Bandom fic:form:drabble fic:category:slash fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU universe:Danger.Days setting:desert beings:kids relationship:friendship relationship:established relationship:brothers pairing:Fun.Ghoul/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Fun.Ghoul pov:Kobra.Kid pov:Party.Poison band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-09 recced:2016-09 pairing:Kobra.Kid/Pete(primary)https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:c56ccd16b61d/turps: You're Shying Away2016-04-03T19:28:12+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/6126607
turloughQUOTE: I've seen him again.
Fingers flying, Mikey eyes the sketch artist as he sends the text, pushing his phone back into his pocket before he has to see the reply. Not that he needs to, he already knows what it says.
It can't be him. It's not possible.
But it is.
It's been almost a year and Mikey's heart is still broken. Every moment he misses Gerard, but Mikey knows where he is.
No note, no text or messages and an apartment left dirty and abandoned. All Gerard's clothes strewn on the floor and his bed unmade, and everywhere, spilled paint, hardened brushes and torn paper.
Mikey shivers, remembering Gerard's last work, the canvas left on the floor, a painted handprint smeared over a darkened landscape and billowing fog. (1,000 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:magical.realism concept:ordinary.lives concept:art relationship:brothers setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Mikey pov:Gerard challenge:2016.PicFor1000 +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-02 recced:2016-03https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:a8ff9d05aac7/syrupwit: untitled ficlet2016-03-23T16:50:37+00:00
http://syrupwit.dreamwidth.org/2775.html?thread=1495#cmt1495
turloughQUOTE: Sometimes, Poison dreams of the ocean. He dreams of walking for miles along a beach, trudging through hot loose sand to the firmer, darker areas at the water's edge. (128 words)]]>author:syrupwit fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU universe:Danger.Days things:dreams band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-01 recced:2016-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:7658adfdef29/syrupwit: untitled ficlet2016-03-23T16:47:57+00:00
http://syrupwit.dreamwidth.org/2775.html?thread=1239#cmt1239
turloughQUOTE: "You ever get tired of red?" Ghoul's face and Poison's were very close. Their legs tangled together. Their breathing had evened out. (142 words)]]>author:syrupwit fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU universe:Danger.Days things:Gerard's.red.hair band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Fun.Ghoul/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2016-01 recced:2016-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:9d20d3962e5d/RubyTuesday5681: Totem2016-03-23T16:33:23+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/5526914
turloughQUOTE: Gerard is just rounding to where he has site of the crumbled ruins of the once beautiful amphitheater when he feels the tendrils of want curl around the back of his neck and then slowly slink away. He has to close his eyes against the sensation. It's already too much.
"You miss me so much." Gerard opens his eyes at the sound of Frank's voice. He feels his heart shudder, like the words have settled deep inside him somewhere. In his soul. Frank is still a good hundred yards away from him, seated casually on the stage inside the remaining shell of the amphitheater, but it sounds like he's right next to Gerard. It already feels like he's *inside* Gerard.
But he's not. Gerard is stronger than that. He's protected now. He has so many charms against this, there's no way Frank can absorb him. Gerard should take Frank out right now. It would be so easy. Just fire up and pull the trigger and that would be it. Then it would be over.
"Oh my love." Frank's words compel Gerard to move closer. "You don't want it to be over." Gerard can't even bring himself to argue. He could never lie to Frank. "Because you can't lie to your own soul," Frank replies in answer to Gerard's unspoken thought.
"Soulmates don't work like that." This time Gerard does argue, stopping in has tracks about twenty feet from the stage where Frank is still leaning to one side, resting on his arm out to the side behind him.
Frank laughs, "Did Ray tell you that?" Gerard flinches and Frank says, "Oh, I'm sorry. *Jet Star* told you that?"
"Don't talk about him," Gerard retorts, angrily, stalking closer. "This has nothing to do with him. This is between you and me." (4,660 words)]]>author:rubytuesday5681 fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU universe:Danger.Days beings:ghosts concept:ordinary.lives concept:supernatural concept:char.death(past) concept:esp:general concept:mindmeld/soulbond concept:magic holiday:Christmas occupation:supernatural.investigator setting:desert smut:fucking band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2015.Bandom.Holidays +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-12 recced:2016-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:ce5c58c383d6/prophetic: Merry and Bright2016-03-23T16:18:32+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/5423426
turloughQUOTE: Frank puttered at the counter, rearranging piles of clothes into other, slightly more stable piles, connecting garments with hangers where he could. It wasn't much good without a rack to hang them on. He collected as many of the dressing room number tags as he could - the tags and number limits hadn't even begun to control the flood of people today - and started to replenish the empty tag hooks.
"Can you help me?" A small, worried voice floated out from the dressing rooms.
Frank looked down the row of doors and saw the guy had peeked his head awkwardly out of the last door and was looking at Frank. Frank hurried down to him.
"What can I do for you?"
"Well, I..." The guy's voice trailed off and he edged open the door, which he had been using to shield his body from the view of Frank or anyone else who might have been in the hallway. "I'm kind of... not sure about these pants."
He was wearing a pair of pants that was, Frank estimated conservatively, about three sizes too large. They hung with reasonable security off his waist, but the front pleats drooped sadly and the cuffs creased and bunched around his feet. Frank frowned in concentration as he took this in. The guy was anxious, and this was why. He didn't know how to shop. Frank felt a smile pricking behind his cheekbones and the beginnings of a laugh at the back of his throat, so he frowned harder.
"I... haven't had to buy dress pants in a really long time," the guy offered by way of explanation.
"Well, okay," Frank began carefully, fighting the prickly feeling in his cheeks. "I think these might be a little big for you." That was the least of the pants' problems, really. Frank flashed back to the day he'd come to work in an old pair of pants he'd pulled out of the back of his closet. They had pleats at the front and cuffs that just barely brushed the tops of his shoes. Pete had sent him home to change, with orders not to come back until he was in different clothes, had disposed of the pleated pants permanently, and could explain the difference between a half-break and full-break hem. And now the fit of men's pants had turned into something Frank could evaluate quickly, thoroughly, without thinking. Something he knew an embarrassing amount about.
"So, the fit," Frank said to the guy, "The fit is the first thing. I can get you some different sizes." His exhaustion was making him chatter, but the guy was looking at him so earnestly. And those eyebrows. (10,420 words)]]>author:prophetic fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff activity:shopping concept:ordinary.lives holiday:Thanksgiving holiday:Christmas occupation:shop.assistant relationship:friendship relationship:UST setting:shop setting:mall things:snow band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Mindless.Self.Indulgence band:Fall.Out.Boy band:Gym.Class.Heroes pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2015.Bandom.Holidays +length:medium.10k-20k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-12 recced:2016-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:c8214fe598df/ermengarde: Somebody Needs To Sing a Christmas Carol2016-01-14T22:53:51+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/5419220
turloughQUOTE: It takes Gerard six fucking days to respond to Frank (six fucking days and another four chimney mails) and then he doesn't respond like a normal person, replying to the mail and setting up an appointment, he turns up at Frank's *home*.
Actually, he's dragged to Frank's home by a lanky dude that Frank's seen around the mail-room and the union meetings and more or less anywhere there's a coffee pot. The lanky dude bangs on Frank's front door until Frank comes through from where he's been trying to replace the taps on the kitchen sink, and then Lanky Dude pushes the rumpled, paint covered vampire dude he's holding by the wrist forward until Vampire Dude is trapped between Lanky Dude and Frank's door. Frank looks at them warily through the bubbled glass of his front door... neither Lanky Dude nor Vampire Dude are, like *big* and it's fucking freezing outside and they're both in fucking band shirts... and really it's the combination of goose pimples he can fucking see through the glass and the Misfits and Bouncing Souls shirts that decides Frank. No one wanting to do harm would dress like that.
Frank opens the door.
Lanky Dude shoves Vampire Dude in the back, and he stumbles forwards into Frank. "Gee, this is Frank, the nice man who's been trying to help you for a week. Frank, this is my idiot brother, Gerard."
Lanky Dude turns and leaves, Vamp...Gerard, Lanky Dude's brother apparently, is half collapsed into Frank's arms, and he smells of hair dye and cigarettes.
It takes a moment for Gerard to start pulling himself back off of Frank, it's like he doesn't quite believe that his brother actually just did that. When he's eventually upright again, Frank looks at him, raises an eyebrow and waits.
Gerard stares at him and runs his hand through his already messy black hair, pulling it into his face. He looks like a teenager, and Frank knows for a fact that Gerard is older than him. He'd heard rumors that the original elfing families had a little bit of, like, actual *mythic* elf blood in them, but looking at Gerard's face is the first time he's ever actually believed it.
"Ummm." Gerard bites his lip.
It is physically painful to watch someone being as socially awkward as Gerard is currently being and Frank is not an actual fucking monster. "Hi." He says, sticking out his hand for Gerard to shake. "I'm Frank Iero, your Labor Union representative." (5,900 words)]]>author:ermengarde fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff beings:Santa.Claus concept:ordinary.lives concept:genderfuck concept:art holiday:Christmas occupation:elf occupation:artist/designer occupation:union.representative relationship:UST setting:office geography:North.Pole band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank +length:medium.5k-10k challenge:2015.Bandom.Holidays !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-12 recced:2015-12https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:880d9619be82/syrupwit: Baby, You're Much Too Fast2016-01-14T22:37:21+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/5429801
turloughQUOTE: "Come on baby, just let me take care of you," Poison murmured into Ghoul's ear, not caring how much it sounded like begging. "Wanna make you forget, make you feel so good..."
"Get off me," said Ghoul. "You're high."
Poison's own laughter sounded mocking in his ears. "So?"
"So get off me."
He released Ghoul and stepped back. "There you go. I'm off you. Happy?"
"No." Ghoul looked at him, and his expression was so open Poison couldn't keep looking at his face.
"Right, you're never happy." Poison turned away, feeling the ugly curl to his lip. He was being too loud. He could tell. No one would care in a minute, but for now all eyes were trained on him. On them. He couldn't take it. He headed for the exit. (1,630 words)]]>author:syrupwit fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:form:5.things fic:genre:AU universe:Danger.Days activity:drug.use concept:ordinary.lives concept:rebellion occupation:rebel setting:bar/club setting:desert smut:blowjob band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Fun.Ghoul/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.1k-5k challenge:2015.Bandom.Holidays !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-12 recced:2015-12https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:32dff9f90857/prophetic: A Late Night Double Feature Picture Show2016-01-01T22:27:40+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/5128535
turloughQUOTE: He heard the man take a breath, but Frank kept his eyes on the screen, face expressionless. Figures in the theater stood and moved, strolling quietly, unhurriedly, to other seats to become pairs. On the screen, the Martian shot a man with his laser gun, and the man slumped to the ground, writhing in magnificent agony. The Martian clutched his laser and laughed triumphantly. Somewhere, a woman screamed, and Frank and the man fell into each other.
The man's mouth on his, in a surprising, swooping sensation that made Frank's joints weak. Despite the many times he had been to the theater, he had never, never kissed another man before. Frank's hand on the man's wool coat, and then finding its way inside it, feeling the warmth he wanted to wrap himself in. The man reaching to touch Frank's face and then to put his hands in Frank's hair.
Frank's hat toppled to the floor, between the seats.
Shedding coats, unbuckling belts, and behind them, fire and fumes as the prototype rocket braved Earth's atmosphere and made its way into the uncharted emptiness of the solar system. (1,680 words)]]>author:prophetic fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU concept:ordinary.lives concept:homophobia setting:cinema/theater smut:frottage smut:public.sex smut:anonymous.sex period:1940s geography:US:New.York pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-11 recced:2015-12https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:283531bcdf93/akamine_chan: Outtakes from the Life of Dinosaurs2015-11-20T22:33:48+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4956076
turloughQUOTE: "Aaaaand... action!"
Ray panned the camera around Frank and Gerard's kitchen. It was open and charming, warm sunlight slanting in from the windows.
"Hi everyone," Gerard chirped. "We're here at home, enjoying a well deserved break, taking the time to recover from our latest adventures. A faithful viewer sent us a dinosaur related product they found at their local grocery and today we're gonna give DinoEgg Oatmeal a whirl."
Frank helpfully brandished the colorful box toward the camera. "Normally, this kind of thing wouldn't be allowed in our house, because Gerard believes in eating only naturally-sourced, ethically-produced, harvested-under-a-blue-moon-by-children-blessed-by-the-Dalai-Lama-himself-oatmeal-"
"Fuck *off*," Gerard said, sotto voce.
Ray winced; that would be a tricky edit. (983 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff concept:ordinary.lives concept:alternate.world occupation:scientist occupation:explorer relationship:established band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Ray +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-10 recced:2015-10 beings:animals.dinosaurshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:788313ddd22c/akamine_chan: The Sharpest Lives 'verse Ebook (Sharpest Lives 'verse 1)2015-11-20T22:20:11+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4494519
turloughQUOTE: I will try my best to continue creating ebook updates as I write more stories in this 'verse.
It is available in .epub and .mobi format, but be warned, the .mobi format is not as pretty as the .epub.
It contains 34 stories, ~40,045 words, and eight pieces of awesome art.]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:PWP universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse concept:ordinary.lives concept:apocalypse concept:dystopia concept:rebellion occupation:musician occupation:rebel setting:desert geography:myth:Battery.City band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pairing:g3rard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Gerard pov:Party.Poison +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-08 recced:2015-10 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:085229c0c005/akamine_chan: Ghost of You (Sharpest Lives 'verse 27)2015-11-20T22:13:16+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4491702
turloughQUOTE: They got to Forest Lawn just as dusk settled, stealing away the light of day. In the purple-dark sky, there was the faint sparkle of stars that was echoed by the seemingly endless number of candles, lanterns, glowstiks and genny-powered strings of lights that flickered across the landscape, set atop stone monuments, crypts and gravestones, carried in skeletal hands, adorning the walls of tents and temporary shelters.
There was definitely a carnival atmosphere; in the first few minutes they saw stilt-walkers and fire-eaters, jugglers and musicians, most with their faces painted with representations of skulls. There were cloth and canvas tents set up, some selling goods and services, some just a place to rest or make deals.
It was life at its loudest and Poison couldn't stop a smile from stealing across his face.
In its heyday, Forest Lawn had been true to its name, green rolling hills and trees. Since the Bombs, it had been claimed by the Dust, brown and dry. The majority of the statuary and headstones were intact, the trees still standing, but the lush grass was long gone. It should have been desolate and lifeless, but the people who came to celebrate the Día each brought a tiny spark and together they combined to shine brightly, pushing back the darkness.
They spent some c's on candles and found a headstone to call their own. Ghoul set up the candles while Kobra lit them and Jet pulled out the bottle of half-decent alk they'd gotten just for the occasion. (3,360 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study universe:Black.Parade universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse beings:ghosts concept:ordinary.lives concept:rebellion concept:apocalypse concept:supernatural relationship:established setting:desert things:Gerard's.platinum.hair band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-08 recced:2015-10 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2e71eea0f512/akamine_chan: It Was Really Me, It Was Really You2015-10-01T15:54:44+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4804709
turloughQUOTE: "I think it drags a little in the middle."
Gerard's temper flared. "Fuck you, it *doesn't*. Not everything has to be super sparkly bells and whistles."
"We're trying to dazzle Morrison with what we've got planned." Frank pointed out.
Frank was calm, clearly not being contrary for the sake of being difficult, for once. Gerard took a deep breath. "But we don't want to oversell ourselves, either."
Frank made a so-so motion. "I think we need to go big or go home." He grinned. "Besides, we *can't* oversell this. It's going to be fucking amazing, and we're going to win awards and Morrison is going to erect statues in our honor..."
Gerard giggled against his will and flipped through his presentation notes. "Okay, boring, huh?"
Frank blew his bangs out of his face. "No, not *boring*. It just loses a bit of momentum. And it shouldn't, because we're going from ceratopsians to our miscellaneous episode, and there's going to be some epic dinosaurs and dinosaur-like animals in that episode.
"And instead of presenting it like a dumping ground for dinosaurs that didn't fit in any of the other episodes, we want to act like we put these dinosaurs together because they're so damn awesome."
"Oh." Gerard chewed on the end of his pen. "Yeah, okay, I see what you're saying." He took a few quick notes. "I'll fix it."
Frank beamed at him. "All right. Let's keep going."
They ran through the rest of the presentation, hammering out further details, smoothing out a couple of rough spots. They argued a little over who should present which part, but for the most part, it was done.
They ended up budgeting seven and a half minutes to talk about each episode. It wasn't enough, of course, because Frank and Gerard could go on and on about dinosaurs, but that kept the presentation at a reasonable sixty minutes.
"You know, I could do all the talking, and get it done in half the time." Gerard pushed his hair away from his face.
Frank snorted. "Yeah, you could. And no one would understand a word."
"True," Gerard admitted. "Just a thought."
"Yeah, no." Frank shuffled through his notes. "Anything else? Or are we done for the night?" It was early for them, only a little after two A.M.
"Done, done, done," Gerard said, and Frank noticed for the first time how tired he looked.
"You're exhausted."
Gerard nodded. "Haven't been sleeping well. Nervous about the presentation."
Frank squeezed his shoulder, and couldn't help letting his hand linger for a little longer than necessary. "We're almost done. Dress rehearsal tomorrow, Morrison the day after."
Gerard paled a little, and swallowed. "Yeah."
"We're gonna be great."
"I know." He did; they were going to rock Morrison's socks off. It was just the anticipation and the waiting that made him anxious. (25,240 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff activity:film.making beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:alternate.world condition:injury occupation:scientist occupation:explorer relationship:UST setting:beach/lake/ocean setting:forest/jungle setting:animal.shelter geography:Asia:China geography:Australia geography:US band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard challenge:2015.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-09 recced:2015-09 beings:animals.dinosaurs geography:South.America:Brazil activity:exploringhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:28215e5c51cc/dear_monday: Spun2015-09-30T16:24:17+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4758086
turloughQUOTE: Watching Frank yell at customers always cheers Gerard up. Although, actually, this is nothing on the time two weeks ago when Frank caught a kid shoplifting, discovered that it was a Christina Aguilera CD she was trying to hide under her hoodie, and sent her on her way with as much of the pop section as she could carry - free of charge. Brian was not impressed.
Ray is the next one to arrive, uncharacteristically late. "Sorry, Brian," he calls. "Someone held up that hi-fi store over on Dewitt last night, there was traffic." He turns to Frank. "You mind if I put some music on?"
"What are you, deaf? I got here first, I get to pick the music today." Frank folds his arms stubbornly, but the fact that he's standing on tiptoes to meet Toro's eyes kind of spoils the effect.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was just a bunch of idiots with instruments making *noise*," Ray snarks, and Gerard groans inwardly. Not again. It'll be the fifth time this week that they've had this exact argument, word for word, and it's only Tuesday morning.
"Asshole, this is *real* music," retorts Frank. "It's got a *message*, not like all your doom-and-gloom shit."
"Yeah, and the message is that none of these people can *play*!" Ray throws his hands up like he does every time. "Punk's not about music, it's about who can be the most obnoxious! Real music is - is people with *talent*, not these morons who think complaining is the same as social commentary!"
"Motherfucker," Frank growls, "Say that again and I swear to god -"
"ENOUGH," Brian roars from the back office. "Accounts are enough of a pain in the ass without you fuckers! Don't you all have jobs to do?"
Ray skulks off to the stock room, muttering darkly about a decimalized cataloguing system and the kind of Reorganization that merits a capital letter. Toro's job seems to involve a lot of hanging out in the stock room with his headphones on, especially when Frank has won the day's music choice privileges.
Mikey ambles in next, yawning and trying to flatten his hair down. He stands and looks at the stereo for a long moment, a slight frown creasing his forehead. To the experienced Mikey-watcher, this is a sure sign of blinding rage. He turns a blank look on Frank that promises retribution in the form of an entire day of the greatest hits of Blur, then picks up a large box containing a hotchpotch of used CDs and vinyl and carries it over to the door of the stock room. He heaves the door open and a brief blast of Metallica filters out, mingling with the Black Flag still thumping raggedly out of the counter stereo. Ray is chief stock organizer, but Mikey is de facto purchaser of second hand shit. Something about his general aura of hipsterish disdain allows him to get away with paying people half of what their stuff is worth while leaving them with an inexplicable feeling of shame.
Gerard goes back to ignoring the world and nursing his hangover in (relative) peace.
A little later, another guy walks in and makes a beeline for the counter. Frank and Gerard conduct a quick round of rock-paper-scissors, which Frank wins.
"Yours," he mouths at Gerard, who turns reluctantly to face the customer. (25,530 words)]]>author:dear_monday fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff fic:source:movie activity:drinking activity:performing activity:robbery concept:ordinary.lives occupation:shop.assistant occupation:musician occupation:small.business.owner relationship:friendship setting:shop smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pairing:Mikey/Pete(secondary) pov:Gerard challenge:2015.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-09 recced:2015-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:f569f538e74d/akamine_chan: Let This World Explode (Sharpest Lives 'verse 31)2015-07-28T19:09:37+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4305141
turloughQUOTE: "What the fuck happened to you?"
Poison's hand goes up before he can stop himself, rubbing at the dark fuzz on his head. It's stupid, but he can't help feeling self-conscious about it. "Nothing," he mumbles, shoulders hunching. He has to get out of here, before Gerard starts asking questions that he doesn't want to answer. "Gotta jet."
"Wait, Poison -"
He shakes off Gerard's hand, doesn't let himself turn back to look, slams out the door of the Fuck You house and heads back to the diner. It's late, and business has been slow, anyway. (1,050 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse activity:hair.cutting/dyeing activity:salvage concept:ordinary.lives concept:dystopia concept:rebellion concept:apocalypse condition:PTSD relationship:established setting:desert band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-07 recced:2015-07https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:3b51a1db0c99/turps: Burn Ever Bright2015-06-18T19:58:30+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4005667
turloughQUOTE: If stepping into the shadow is creepy, the sidestep into the rock is even more so. In a blink nearly all light is gone, and Gerard is all too aware of the rock that surrounds him so completely. The only sound is his own breathing, and Gerard takes careful sidesteps, the tunnel sides narrowing and scraping against his stomach and back on occasions.
Clutching his bag at his side, Gerard takes slow deliberate breaths, reminding himself Frank said it's not actually far, no matter how it seems like Gerard's been inside of this rock forever.
"You're only a few steps away now." Ray's voice is welcome, and Gerard narrows his eyes when he sees light spilling into the tunnel. "Around a corner and you're here."
Gerard quickens his side steps, eager for fresh air as he steps into bright sunshine, and onto a ledge where he can look down into a long and bowled valley - one that's filled with dragons, some awake, some slumbering, and some commanding the air, swooping and roaring, leaving flaring flames and smoke trails behind them.
At first, Gerard thinks that he's dreaming, or hallucinating, because nothing he's experienced in life has prepared him for this. Unlike the neat dragon pens back in the corps, these dragons are spread out and roam free, dozens of them, so many that Gerard doesn't know where to look first.
Some lumber across the valley floor, huge and yet dainty in the way they look around, their brilliant, shimmering scales catching the light. While others seem to be napping, curled up and looking like vast living hills, their wings tucked in and tails stretched out over the rock.
It's the most magnificent thing Gerard's ever seen, like a colourful, amazing fantasy land made real.
"This is another mirage, right?" Gerard says, because no way is this real. It can't be, it's not possible that something so amazing has been tucked away out of sight at the top of this mountain. "Those are dragons. *Big* dragons. Wild dragons."
"They're real, and they've been here for a long while now," Ray says, his hair blowing against his face when one of the bigger dragons stretches its body and flaps red-tipped green wings. (20,000 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study fic:source:fanart activity:flying beings:dragons concept:ordinary.lives concept:char.death.minor concept:war concept:esp:empathy concept:esp:telepathy condition:injury concept:magic relationship:brothers relationship:Waycest relationship:poly relationship:friendship smut:blowjob smut:frottage smut:groupsex setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Mikey(primary) pairing:GSF:My.Chemical.Romance(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2015.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-05 recced:2015-05https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:8be4bddc6266/Tigress33: Older Than Water (Stubborn As Stone)2015-06-18T19:42:55+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4001992
turloughQUOTE: Gerard, pinned, clenched his eyes and breathed out when the dragon closed its fangs around his neck, counting down. He felt the fangs break skin and prepared himself. He knew he couldn't get out of this. Grant had wasted so much on him. Even Wentz and Stump, who had put their faith in him to complete some mission. His partner, still out there and waiting for him, still hurting and as angry as him at the world for failing them.
The dragon clenched its jaw, but nothing happened after skin was broken. He could feel the dragon trembling, feel the rage boiling under skin and scale, but he wasn't dead. It pulled back from him like he had burnt it, and screamed again, sounding even angrier than before. It bit him on the shoulder this time, but after skin was broken it went no deeper. Gerard could *feel* the desperation in it, feel how much it wanted to hurt him but, at the same time, couldn't. Could feel how, like him, it was throwing away the sword after each threat of violence.
On the fourth bite, Gerard felt tears. He knew dragons could cry, though it was through a different physiological system than humans, but he hadn't quite believed it until then, when, through the growling and biting, tears dripped onto him.
Gerard felt his eyes well and, without reason, he began to sob. The dragon reared back and he reached out, caught her face in his and pressed their foreheads together. There was a light, so bright it blinded, but it was gone almost before it had begun as the dragon broke the connection. She slammed her clawed foot into his chest, breaking through shirt and skin again, and snarled at him.
"How could you leave me!?" She shouted, her wings spreading wide, to intimidate, "*How could you leave me!?*"
"I didn't!" Gerard said desperately, "I could never -"
"Now!" A new voice unnoticed and loud, yelled. There was a thin sound and she went down on top of him, tears still streaming from her hazing eyes. Gerard gasped, felt his vision darken and his lungs collapse on him like she had. He was out before the people from before were on them. Somehow, even unconscious, Gerard had to be peeled away from his grip on her. (25,180 words)]]>author:tigress33 fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:source:fanart activity:stealing beings:dragons beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:art concept:magic concept:mindmeld/soulbond condition:illness condition:injury occupation:artist/designer occupation:wizard/witch relationship:friendship setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy challenge:2015.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-05 recced:2015-05 pov:Gerardhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:fdea24cf6699/akamine_chan: Deflect the System2015-05-22T18:47:39+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3858781
turloughQUOTE: Poison worries that one day the medtechs will figure out a way to permanently remove memories during reeducation, wipe them completely clean like the sterile white walls in Battery City. He tries not to think about it too much, but it's always in the back of his mind, nibbling away at his sanity like a city-bred rat.
Undoing BLI's reeducation isn't easy, but it can be done. The first step is to let all of the drugs clear Ghoul's system - two weeks of intense detox. It sucks, it fucking *sucks*, but it's the surprisingly easy part of the process. It's a matter of keeping Ghoul restrained (Poison learned that one early on, and still has the scar), and hydrated.
The first few days, the man who was Fun Ghoul passively resists them. He wants to go *home*, back to his clean white living unit in Battery City, away from the dirt and the heat and the dust. The Killjoys scare him, desert terrorist scum that they are, and he's stubborn as fuck, refuses to cooperate with even the simplest of tasks.
He responds to every question with, "Gaffney, Frederick A, ID number 287804876143" like a good little drone.
"Frederick A. Gaffney?" Poison repeats dubiously. "Really?" (1,290 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:detoxing concept:ordinary.lives concept:brainwashing concept:dystopia concept:rebellion condition:amnesia concept:medication occupation:rebel relationship:established band:My.Chemical.Romance +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-05 recced:2015-05 pairing:Fun.Ghoul/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poisonhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:4a2af75b44b2/reading_is_in: Five times Ghoul Didn't let Poison Kiss Him (And One Time He Did)2015-05-22T18:30:26+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3893299
turloughQUOTE: Ghoul sighs. He's uncomfortable. "We all chose this life," he says at last.
"Yeah," whispers Poison. He tilts his face, so that their lips are suddenly very close, and his eyes are liquid. They seem to draw in breath at the same time.
"Stop," Ghoul says.
Poison blinks.
"I wasn't -"
"I know. It's just. Not now, okay? It's not -" It's not time. It's too much. Too much of one kind of feeling and not enough of the other, and Ghoul doesn't understand Poison's motivations.
"Right," Poison blinks, draws back.
They watch the night together. (2,080 words)
(also at http://bandom-meme.dreamwidth.org/19917.html?thread=652493#cmt652493 )]]>fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study beings:draculoids concept:ordinary.lives concept:char.death concept:rebellion relationship:friendship relationship:UST band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-05 recced:2015-05 author:reading_is_in universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2b8b10548bf2/Netgirl_y2k: All These Things That We've Done2015-03-13T17:02:12+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/66747
turloughQUOTE: Liz was fascinated by the alien planet. She was two hundred yards south of the TARDIS, examining a fragment of the glass like substance that made up the majority of the landscape. Luckily, the Brigadier was more singularly minded.
"Another world, Doctor. You've brought Miss Shaw and myself to another world without even asking our opinions."
"Oh, do try to enjoy yourself, Brigadier. You're standing on ground no human being has stood on before, breathing air never breathed before."
"That's a lovely sentiment, Doctor. But what about the Earth?"
"I'll set the coordinates to take you back. I won't have such a," the Doctor fumbled for the right word, "sourpuss in my TARDIS!"
"I think you've upset him," observed Liz, who'd picked her way back across the broken landscape just in time to watch the Doctor swish his cape and flounce back into the TARDIS.
"Do you know, Miss Shaw, I think I might have."
"Still," she said, "this place is incredible. The odds of there being another planet with a breathable atmosphere are astronomical, and just look at this landscape."
"It's the stars I can't get used to. Look at the sky, it's so different from the night sky anywhere on Earth."
"I would never have guessed you were a stargazer, Brigadier. Watching the skies for threats from other worlds?"
"Always, Miss Shaw, always." (1,960 words)]]>author:netgirl_y2k fandom:Doctor.Who fic:category:gen fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:AU beings:aliens beings:ice.warriors setting:alien.planet things:Tardis companion:Brigadier.Lethbridge-Stewart companion:Liz.Shaw doctor:3rd +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2010-03 recced:2015-03https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:5c9cd422e23b/turps: Comfort in Sound2015-03-05T21:04:44+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3392105
turloughQUOTE: Pete's wearing a black hoodie, one that's at least two sizes too big. With the hood up and sleeves completely covering his hands it looks like he's hiding: and maybe he is. Despite the explanations and demonstrations, despite running as a crew for so long, Gerard still isn't sure of Pete's thing.
"My thing is beautiful," Pete says then, his eyes gleaming from within the shadowy recess of his hood. "I can show you if you want, or ask Mikey. He's seen it."
"No one wants to see your thing," Ray cuts in, as if there's even a chance Gerard was about to say yes. Which he wasn't. There's no need to, Gerard's already seen it enough.
"Ah, but it wasn't a real look," Pete says, and starts grinning with all those many many white teeth. "You only caught a glimpse, it's more impressive than that."
"What's more impressive?" Mikey asks, causing the van to tilt briefly as he climbs inside and squashes onto the bench seat between Pete and Gerard. "Did you get me a coffee?"
"My thing, and yes," Pete says, handing an extra large takeout cup to Mikey. "It's got a foam heart under the lid, Gerard asked for it. I think it's a symbol of our everlasting and destined by fate love."
"Gerard's love for you?" Mikey asks, sounding interested as he glances at Gerard before taking a long drink of coffee. Putting down the cup he wipes at his mouth and adds, "Pete's thing *is* more impressive. He'll show you sometime."
"No he won't." Ray turns in his seat and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "No one want's to see Pete's thing. Pete's thing isn't an issue today, and you need to stop focussing in."
The last is addressed to Pete, who shrugs and pulls down his hood, blinking as his eyes are exposed to the light. "I couldn't help it, Gerard was thinking too hard."
"Gerard always thinks too hard, it's what he does," Ray says, and reaches behind him, pointedly tapping one of the monitors that line the van's side. "We've got ten minutes before the galley shuts for the day. We should be discussing the plan, not Pete's penis." (2,460 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:action/adventure activity:stealing activity:rescue concept:ordinary.lives concept:esp:telepathy condition:injury relationship:friendship relationship:established band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy pairing:Frank/Gerard(secondary) pairing:Mikey/Pete(secondary) pov:Gerard challenge:2015.No.Tags +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-02 recced:2015-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:1108c8a1c6dd/Lucifuge5: You Can't Plan for Love2015-03-05T20:42:47+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3398483
turloughQUOTE: Judge Morrison cleared his throat. "And now, we can open the discussion on the final item." He looked over his glasses, tilting his head while giving Mikey what could only be described as an assessing look. "I believe it is in the best interest of everyone involved if Mr. Way could clarify whether he'd prefer the wedding to take place in the summer or in the fall?"
"The wedding? What? I don't - *what*?" He glanced at Brian before directing his gaze back to the judge.
"Your Honor," Brian said, "may we pause the proceedings so that I can confer with my clients?"
"Very well, Mr. Schecter," Judge Morrison replied with ease. "You have 10 minutes."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Brian said, sitting next to Mikey in one swift move. He leaned over to Mikey, keeping his voice steady. "All right, listen up and listen good 'cause we only have a few: the last clause in the agreement between your family's multi-planetary industries and the Toro family's corporation is a symbolic union between the families. A show of good faith and all that."
Mikey turned halfway around until he faced Brian. "An arranged marriage? That's so... I didn't even think people did things like that anymore."
"I know." Brian made a calming gesture. "It's a rare thing nowadays, that is true. The Toros are a very *traditional* family. From what I know, the youngest son has yet to be betrothed. It makes sense that they would use any opportunity to close all kinds of deals, so to speak." (1,260 words)]]>author:lucifuge5 fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff concept:ordinary.lives relationship:marriage band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Mikey/Ray(primary) pov:Mikey challenge:2015.No.Tags +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-02 recced:2015-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2a2424ae8e0e/JohnAmendAll: Business as Usual2015-03-03T21:03:19+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/510639
turloughQUOTE: "Quite so. Well, Doctor?"
The Doctor frowned. "Well, what?"
"How do you propose to investigate this?"
"What makes you think I will?" The Doctor gestured at his workbench. "There's quite enough that needs doing here. The TARDIS -"
"The TARDIS will still be here tomorrow, Doctor."
"That's rather the point," the Doctor grumbled. "And the next day, and the next week, and the next year, unless I can bypass the override on the dematerialisation circuit. And I won't be able to do that - I won't even be able to build the necessary tools to do it - if you keep distracting me with ridiculous stories about ghosts and superstitious villagers."
"Oh, come on, Doctor," Jo said. "It's a lovely day. And the change of air will do us all good, I'm sure."
"And give you the chance to impress a lot of people with your new dress?" The Doctor rubbed his neck. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt to take a closer look into things. I'll take Jo with me. If I need you to blow anything up I'll send for you."
The Brigadier frowned. "Doctor, are you sure that's wise? We'll be several hours' march away."
"Exactly. Far enough away that you can't cause any trouble with your cannons and your muskets while I'm trying to bring about a peaceful settlement. Come along, Jo."
The Doctor rose to his feet and swept out. Jo gave the Brigadier an apologetic look, and followed suit.
Left on his own, the Brigadier contemplated the fact that on many previous occasions, the Doctor had dismissed his men and their from consideration in similar terms. On a good number of those occasions, it had turned out that they weren't quite as unnecessary as the Doctor had thought. It might be as well to make a few preparations, just in case.
"Benton!" he called. (12,900 words)(also at http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=36825 )]]>author:johnamendall fandom:Doctor.Who fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure companion:Jo.Grant companion:Brigadier.Lethbridge-Stewart doctor:3rd master:Delgado beings:aliens things:Tardis period:18th.century +length:medium.10k-20k !meta:rec:fic posted:2010-05 recced:2015-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:f47423f89a25/winterlover: Poison Pink2015-02-12T19:17:53+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3292172
turloughQUOTE: He has no idea where Gerard managed to get the dye and the almost new towel from, but Poison knows better and doesn't ask.
He's busy enjoying the sensation of Gerard gently rubbing his head dry. And the towel's really soft, it's totally fluffy. It's so very different from the usual rags they use. It reminds him of - no, he doesn't want to think of the past. The present has to be good enough. It is good. And so fluffy!
"Hmm -" Gerard has pulled the towel away and runs his fingers through Poison's hair.
"Huh?" Poison looks up. (237 words)]]>author:winterlover artist:winterlover fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU art:technique:graphic art:technique:blend activity:hair.cutting/dyeing band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic !meta:rec:art posted:2015-02 recced:2015-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:34c9ecea4e72/turps: Suds Crossing2015-02-06T21:51:01+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3247574
turloughQUOTE: "Guard the rip, they said. It's important, they said." Gerard kicks a huge bag, and then kicks it again when the bag tips on its side, spilling out a mini avalanche of musty and stained clothes. "They didn't say I'd be scrubbing out dragon's blood that's soaked into leather."
"Technically you don't do that." Mikey looks up from the magazine he's reading, tilting his head toward the back room. "Ray did the last lot, with that bubbly acid shit he invented."
Gerard shrugs, too caught up in his rant to allow Mikey's point. Plus, even if it is technically true it was still Gerard who has to sort out the bags and dispose of stray bits of intestine. Which is fucking disgusting, and next time Gerard sees Frank he's going to tell him just that.
"And you would have hated the mountain post," Mikey points out, putting down his magazine and stretching out his leg so he can tap one of the dryers with the toe of his boot. "No internet and living in a cave. Fuck that shit."
Gerard picks up a shirt, frowning when something green and no doubt toxic drips to the floor. "The cave has living quarters, and I can cope without internet."
"Of course you can, Mr-display-my-socks-and-food-to-the-world," Mikey says, watching as an iridescent oversized firefly emerges from the dryer and darts out of the open front door. "And the cave pad isn't that special. The fur quartz bed gets old."
"I'd still like to try it," Gerard says, brandishing a stiffened sock in Mikey's direction when it looks like he's about to reply. "I don't want to know."
"Know what?" Mikey grins and with a deft flick of his wrist, turns the sock into a shimmering black rose. (1,000 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:urban.fantasy fic:source:picture activity:laundry concept:ordinary.lives concept:magic occupation:wizard/witch relationship:brothers setting:laundromat challenge:2015.PicFor1000 +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-01 recced:2015-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:0fc4b3ffe04b/fleurdeliser, ohnoktcsk, tuesdaysgone: Your Heart Turns Out the Lights2015-01-24T22:04:51+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3161222
turloughQUOTE: He has a very mischievous smile. It's... fucking captivating, Jesus. Gerard wasn't expecting that. "Lead on," he says.
As soon as they walk through the main door, Gerard knows that everything the twins had told him about the house was true, and at the same time, that nothing he'd been told could come close to capturing how fucking amazing this place is. A stairway winds up from his left to the second level, tall stained-glass windows let in the diffuse afternoon light, and half the foyer is taken up by a clockwork monstrosity.
"What is it?" Gerard breathes.
"Mostly it's a sculpture," Grant replies. "But it's got a few functional bits too." Gerard's fingers are already itching for his pens. "Now, now, don't stand in the foyer all day." Grant grins. "This way."
He leads Gerard down a hall and through large, ornate double doors and into a massive library.
"Holy shit."
"Thank you," says Grant, obviously pleased at Gerard's reaction. "I've been working on my collection of books twice as long as I've been working on the house; there wasn't much else for a lad like me to do, in Glasgow." Gerard smiles at him, and Grant shrugs easily. "I found my way forward by going backward. Gaslight, steam and gears, paper and ink. I have a lovely music room, it's just this way." When Gerard doesn't follow immediately he laughs. "The library isn't going anywhere."
"I do like music too. I write songs sometimes," Gerard says as he follows.
"A man of many talents, then," Grant replies. He leads Gerard through a small sitting room and then through another doorway, which opens into the promised music room.
Gerard gapes. "Is that a pipe organ?"
"It is. My own design, of course," Grant replies. "It's - somewhat of a favorite." His smile is fond and a bit faraway.
"That's fucking amazing," Gerard says. "I have a feeling everything in this house could be described like that."
"You haven't even seen the upstairs yet," Grant says, smirking. "However," he adds seriously, "follow me and I'll show you the dining room and the kitchen. You'll have full access to the kitchen in between meals, of course, but Vince is an excellent cook. I can attest to that." He pats his stomach, which draws Gerard's eyes to his midsection, and his hand. He's really quite attractive.
Gerard forces his eyes back up to Grant's. "Sounds good," he says.
The kitchen is just as incredible as the rest of the house, in its own way. There are steam-powered appliances and an old fashioned wood-burning stove. "The coffee maker is over here," Grant says, gesturing to a machine that looks nothing like any coffee maker Gerard has ever seen before in his life.
"Oh sweet lord," Gerard blurts.
Grant laughs. "It's not as bad as it looks. Fresh ground beans are always the best, are they not?"
"That's true," Gerard allows.
"And it's all automated, so all you have to do is flip this lever -" Grant points at a tarnished copper switch "- and it will grind the beans, which will drop into the filter, and then hot water will be pumped in from the boiler. Actually, one of my simpler designs." Grant must notice Gerard's look of longing, because he says, "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?" (54,760 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:ohnoktcsk author:tuesdaysgone fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:steampunk activity:cooking beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:art concept:music concept:magic concept:polyamory occupation:writer occupation:musician occupation:inventor things:comics setting:mansion/palace smut:blowjob smut:fucking smut:handjob smut:threesome geography:UK:Scotland challenge:2015.Poly.BB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-01 recced:2015-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:214a590b4500/akamine_chan: When the Sunlight Dies (Sharpest Lives 'verse 34)2015-01-24T21:52:34+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/3190820
turloughQUOTE: The acid rains were bad enough, but this was just brutal. No one in the Zones knew how to deal the frost and snow and ice, and it was throwing a big wrench into all of their plans.
"Fuck," Ghoul muttered, shuffling closer on the bench seat. He was wearing an impossible number of layers; Poison was sure Ghoul had on every single article of clothing he owned. And still he was shivering.
There'd been three big fires across two Zones, people trying to stay warm and well, when things caught on fire, there was no way to put 'em out. You just had to stay clear until it burned itself out. So far, no one had been seriously hurt, but it was only a matter of time. (334 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse activity:cuddling concept:ordinary.lives concept:rebellion concept:apocalypse things:snow band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Party.Poison +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2015-01 recced:2015-01 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:51136bb205fb/akamine_chan: Blood On Your Hands (Sharpest Lives 'verse 8)2014-12-19T01:51:13+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2645420
turloughQUOTE: Tonight, Poison has no patience, he's got nothing but hot anger pounding through his blood, and he's almost choking on it. He tears open the packet of slick he'd pulled from his pocket and dribbles some into his hand. He not careful at all, rubbing at the guy's asshole before pushing in fast with a pair of crossed fingers.
"M'name's Cam," the dude huffs out, squirming back against Poison's hand, and he wonders what he's been muttering under his breath. Cam is tight, and Poison's dick is so fucking hard, he needs this bad. Needs to forget. He leans forward and bites the back of the dude's neck, ignoring the tickle of Cam's green-dyed hair against his face.
Something's off, and it takes him a minute to realize that Cam doesn't smell right, there's no familiar coffeesmokesweat scent. It's like a splash of cold water in his face, it dulls his arousal and distracts him, but then Cam wriggles and moans. "C'mon, baby, want you." (963 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:PWP fic:genre:character.study universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse concept:ordinary.lives concept:addiction smut:fucking band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(secondary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-11 recced:2014-12 pairing:Party.Poison/OC(primary) universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:42fdbb14e97e/something_safe: Code Red2014-12-19T01:37:03+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2426744
turloughQUOTE: Winded, Party can't even gasp for breath because Korse's hands are suddenly fastening around his neck, heedless of injury. His grip is iron clad, eyes flinty with anticipation as he slams Party's head back against the tile, sending the room into a whirling kaleidoscope of pain. Even with one of Party's feet wedged hard against the joint of his hip, knee against his chest, he can still put enough weight into his movements to squeeze him dizzy, the scrambling and clawing of Party's hands pathetically ineffective.
"This really is a sloppy second, Red," Korse breathes, drooling carrion and seething hatred with every word. "S'like your heart's just not in it."
Stomach squirming and face hot, Party chokes on a response, sucking in a wheezing breath and gripping helplessly at the bunched fabric at Korse's shoulders. With hands around his throat and weight on his thighs, he feels physically confused, vulnerable and empowered.
"Well - I didn't wanna make you feel bad -" he hacks, "old guy like you, s'probably hard going -"
"How sweet of you..." Korse grins now, but it's not a nice grin. Party likes it though, it looks good on his usually stony face.
"Mm- well I do what I can, y'know. Ego's a fragile thing and I know you're very attached to yours. I'm very philanthropic that way."
"Oh you are, Party," Korse agrees, "you always do seem ready to take one for the team." (2,720 words)]]>author:something_safe fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:PWP beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:violence condition:injury occupation:rebel occupation:exterminator smut:fucking smut:rough.sex band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Party.Poison/Korse(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-10 recced:2014-12 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:da895c08a1bc/akamine_chan: Won't Stop Breathing2014-11-29T19:52:51+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2617430
turloughQUOTE: "Hey."
Kobra startles out of his reverie, looking at Poison's reflection in the mirror. "Hey."
Poison sets a bottle of pills on the edge of the sink, stark white BLI/ind label, HRT (MALE) written in bold black letters. "Thanks." Kobra opens the bottle and dry swallows a pastel pill. Poison's still watching him in the mirror, face uncharacteristically serious. "What?"
Poison shakes his head, red hair obscuring one eye. "Nothing."
Kobra waits; he knows Poison has something to say.
Poison's shoulders droop, and he sighs, like he knows that Kobra is going to wait him out. Poison is stubborn, but he has *nothing* on Kobra.
"Just." He won't meet Kobra's eyes in the mirror, so Kobra turns around to look at him. (849 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study concept:ordinary.lives concept:dystopia concept:rebellion concept:transgender relationship:brothers things:memories band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Kobra.Kid +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-11 recced:2014-11 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:10925e328534/dear_monday: Séance Weather2014-11-13T21:31:40+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2538740
turloughQUOTE: "Is your house haunted?" asks Frank, as they make their way up the long driveway towards it. House, he thinks, is something of an understatement. It sits on the top of the hill, a little way back from the rest of the town, haughty and dark and forbidding. He's seen it before, always from a distance, and he'd thought it was deserted. Frank has never heard anyone talk about the place, and no one seems to know who - if anyone - lives there.
It's the coolest house Frank has ever seen. It has turrets, which he covets immediately. His house doesn't have turrets. Or a circular tower room, or an overgrown, thorny sprawl of a front yard, or wrought-iron fencing warped with age and twice as tall as he is.
He's going to be really, *really* disappointed if Gerard and Mikey's house isn't haunted. Gerard turns back to look at him pityingly.
"*Obviously*," Gerard says. "Isn't yours?"
"No," says Frank sadly. "Not even a little bit." They've never had so much as a door that opens or closes by itself, let alone phantom shadows on the walls, and if anything is ever where it shouldn't be then Frank will know about it because it's invariably his fault. He's spent hours and hours on gloomy afternoons like this one searching from the basement to the rafters for some sign of the supernatural, or at the very least some ominous evidence of a gruesome past, but by now he's pretty much accepted that the house is exactly what it seems, nothing more and nothing less: a house. It's a real disappointment.
"Really?" asks Mikey, as he dodges a low-hanging branch that nearly takes Frank's eye out and drenches him even more thoroughly with accumulated rain in the process. "Not even a poltergeist or anything? Gee, remember that year when we had three of them in the attic and uncle Montgomery's ghost in that bedroom and, and -"
"Cousin Ermintrude in the drawing room," finishes Gerard, stepping over something that Frank thinks might be a bear trap without even looking down. "That was annoying. Just because she was only eight when she died didn't mean she had to take it out on me. It wasn't *my* fault she tried to curse me for experimenting on her stupid toad," he says petulantly, then rather steps on his own point by adding, "Anyway, it wouldn't leave me alone. It kept getting slime all over my drawings." He's glowering, and Frank does his best to feel menaced. It's not like Gerard seems particularly upset or anything, but Frank's not sure whether or not it's okay to tell someone that being haunted by their dead relatives sounds kind of awesome.
"Anyway," says Gerard casually, as he lifts the heavy-looking brass door-knocker (shaped like a wolf's head, Frank is almost sure) and releases it, letting it drop back against the imposing, ominously stained front door with a bang so loud Frank starts a little. The door creaks open apparently of its own accord with a noise like... well, Frank can't help thinking, a noise like a dying toad. "Come in, Frank."
It doesn't cross Frank's mind for so much as a moment that he should leave now. (20,510 words)]]>author:dear_monday fandom:Bandom fandom:Addams.Family fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fusion fic:genre:character.study beings:kids beings:ghosts concept:ordinary.lives concept:family concept:magic concept:supernatural condition:illness occupation:student.elementary.school relationship:friendship things:storm setting:elementary.school setting:mansion/palace band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Frank +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-10 recced:2014-11https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:80f8c4cc0166/dear_monday: Something Wicked This Way Comes2014-09-10T20:53:08+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2243976
turloughQUOTE: Gerard jumps slightly, and looks over to see Ray cautiously poking his head around the door.
"Mm? Oh, yeah. Sorry about that," he says, slightly sheepishly. He feels wrung out now, drained.
Ray shrugs affably, and walks around the table to take a seat opposite Gerard. Under his arm is a leatherbound book the size of a paving slab, and he lays it down with a heavy thump.
"It's all this shit going on," Gerard says, continuing to peel the label off his bottle. It's still almost full, lukewarm and unappetizing now. He drinks some anyway, just for the sake of something to do with his hands. "It's getting to me."
"It's getting to everyone," Ray says absently, heaving the book open. The pages are covered in rows upon rows of dense black glyphs that don't form words in any language Gerard knows, printed on thick, creamy vellum. "Someone should go see the Prophet," adds Ray, looking up at Gerard. Gerard's mouth twitches in the slightest of involuntary grimaces.
"Yeah," he says. "I guess he might..." Gerard trails off, not liking the look in Ray's good eye one bit. "Oh no," he says. "Oh, *hell* no. There is absolutely *no way*."
Ray raises one eyebrow, and returns his attention to the delicately yellowed pages of the enormous tome currently taking up almost half of the kitchen table. Gerard pushes his chair back, its legs scraping loudly on the cracked tiles, and crosses his arms defiantly.
"I am not asking that... that..." Gerard struggles for a suitable curse word to demonstrate the strength of his feelings. "I'm not asking *him* for help," he growls eventually, his lip curling.
Ray ignores him, and carefully turns another page.
"Ray," whines Gerard, leaning forwards and settling his elbows on the table. "Come on, you know I can't do that."
"Oh? Why not?" Ray asks in a maddeningly serene voice, still not looking up.
"Because," Gerard grits out, "He's a creepy, slippery son of a bitch with an ego the size of Mexico, that's why not."
"In other words, because you don't like him." Ray turns back a page and makes a brief note in a nearby pad.
"No, because he's an *asshole*," mutters Gerard, scowling. He pushes his beer away from him in protest, then changes his mind and picks it up again, glaring at Ray over the lip of the bottle. "I'm not going."
Ray exhales slowly, and Gerard can almost hear him slowly counting to ten in his head. Then he looks up, pinning Gerard with an earnest look and tucking a stray curl of hair behind his ear. "Well, someone has to, and it might as well be you. I don't know why you're making it so difficult. He likes you, you know."
"No," Gerard corrects him, through gritted teeth, "He likes *Mikey*."
"Yeah, but surely -"
"Someone say my name?" Mikey ambles back into the sunlit kitchen, tousle-haired, clean-shaven and unusually fresh-smelling, and pours himself languidly into a seat.
"Ray is... suggesting that we go to see the Prophet," Gerard says, pronouncing the last word as if it's something nasty he's just thrown up, and trying furiously to telegraph 'and I would rather deep fry my face' to Mikey. His problem isn't with Mikey being liked, his problem is with Mikey being liked by... *him*. Something happens to the hunters that the Prophet takes a shine to. It's as if he has some sort of strange gravity that draws them into his orbit, and once they're there, they never seem to want to leave. Gerard doesn't know how he does it, if it's brainwashing or mind control or drugs in the food and drink he plies his guests with, but if it happened to Mikey, Gerard would never forgive himself. He can't imagine travelling the east coast's highways and hunting down its monsters without Mikey at his side. He doesn't think he could do it. Come to that, he isn't at all sure he'd even know how. Rumor has it that the Prophet has recently acquired another of Mikey's kind, a boy called William who sometimes knows things he shouldn't and still has dim memories of another world. Maybe the Prophet is collecting them, like exotic pets or particularly fine specimens of butterfly. Gerard suppresses a shudder.
"Oh, are we going to Nevada?" says Mikey vaguely, stretching like a cat. "That'd be cool, we haven't seen him in a while."
"I know," Gerard says, darkly. "It's been real nice."
"We should go," says Mikey, yawning again, apparently completely oblivious to Gerard's evil eye.
"Mikey..." Gerard says pleadingly.
Mikey blinks owlishly at him. "You don't have to come with me," he says. "I don't mind, I'll go by myself if you don't wanna."
"Oh, like hell you will," growls Gerard, instantly switching gears. "Fine. Fine. Let's go. See if I care."
Mikey smirks like it's going out of style. (60,530 words)]]>author:dear_monday fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:urban.fantasy fic:genre:horror activity:drinking activity:killing/murder beings:Grant.Morrison beings:zombies beings:vampires beings:changelings concept:ordinary.lives concept:char.death.minor concept:magic concept:supernatural concept:violence condition:PTSD concept:family concept:quest occupation:supernatural.investigator things:Trans.Am relationship:brothers smut:frottage smut:fucking smut:blowjob smut:rough.sex smut:public.sex setting:bar/club setting:café/diner/restaurant setting:forest/jungle setting:road.trip geography:US:New.Jersey geography:US:Louisiana band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy band:Leathermouth band:The.Used pairing:Bert/Gerard(past) pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2014.BBB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-09 recced:2014-09 fic:genre:action/adventurehttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:aff409474af8/fleurdeliser & ohnoktcsk & tuesdaysgone: The Way of the Voice2014-09-10T20:35:56+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2226225
turloughQUOTE: "He is excellent at his job," Grant said. "And yes, we'll need to employ other methods regardless. There is one more scrying spell I can try that may reveal something different, but I can already tell it won't be enough."
"Nyota's third?" Frank asked. Grant nodded. "I'll get the salt," Frank said, getting up.
Grant moved to the part of the room they used for casting circles and started gathering candles. He glanced back at Gerard, who remained seated. He wasn't still, though. His eyes were darting around him, taking in the room. He'd seen it the day before, but things had been moved around. His hands were moving, worrying the hem of his sleeve, folding in his lap, resting on his knees.
Grant could understand Gerard's unease with silence just now. Happily, he could do something about that. "Nyota's third incantation is a bit unusual, for a scrying spell," he told Gerard. "What makes it unusual, Frank?"
"'M not your apprentice anymore," Frank grumbled, but he added, "It uses different pathways."
"It's a spoken-word, or rather, sung, incantation. I believe in this case it might prove more effective," Grant explained. He knelt with a piece of chalk and drew the circle. Frank returned and started arranging the rest of the materials. Gerard's eyes darted between them both. He clearly found the process utterly fascinating.
"The circle directs the spell," Grant explained. "It gives the words somewhere to go."
Gerard gestured between them. "Who does the spell?" Frank asked.
"You should," Grant said to Frank. "You haven't had that many opportunities to do this one, as I recall."
Frank nodded. "Okay. Gerard, can you come over here? We both need to kneel in the middle of the circle. Grant will finish the preparations. Then I'll start the incantation." Gerard nodded and got on his knees in the circle. Frank knelt opposite him. "I'm going to need to put my hands on your shoulders," Frank said.
Gerard nodded, mouthing an 'okay'. Grant finished his preparations, setting the little bundles of ingredients at three points on the circle's circumference. Then he sat back and watched Frank.
Frank whispered to Gerard, "Close your eyes." Gerard closed his eyes and Frank started the incantation. His voice was scratchy and rough at first, but as he kept going, his tone evened out. Grant always forgot how well Frank could sing.
Gerard's eyes were still closed, but his expression had changed. He looked... sad. Immensely so. Frank's voice wavered minutely. He saw it too. Grant watched his hands move, cupping Gerard's skull, thumbs circling just under his ears.
Grant watched Gerard breathe in through his nose and saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. Frank kept singing. The circle flared with light, little sparks dancing up into the air as Frank sang the spell to its conclusion.
Neither he nor Gerard moved, so Grant did. "It worked," he murmured to Frank. "Look at the sigils." (62,440 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:ohnoktcsk author:tuesdaysgone fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:cooking activity:performing beings:dwarves beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:magic concept:music concept:curse occupation:musician occupation:wizard/witch relationship:friendship relationship:UST relationship:poly smut:threesome smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Gerard pov:Frank pov:Grant.Morrison challenge:2014.BBB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-09 recced:2014-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:8f2da893d3db/rubytuesday5681: You Can Trust Me2014-08-23T21:46:47+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1949160
turloughQUOTE: The thing is, he just can't get it out of his mind - the whole making out with Gerard thing. At first he was willing to give himself a break because that was a totally hot and heavy make out session, more intense than anything he's ever done before. In fact, if Ray hadn't called when he did and interrupted them, Frank has no idea how far it might have gone. He can't be certain, but it totally felt like Gerard was about to move his hand from Frank's back to his ass just before the phone rang.
Fucking Ray. Totally not his fault, but still.
So yeah, perfectly reasonable that Frank basically rubbed his dick raw jerking off to thoughts of Gerard for a few days after that. Frank is fourteen and horny and apparently a stud because he hooked up with a *college* dude.
But it was *Gerard*. And ever since the "incident" (as Frank has taken to calling it in his mind) Gerard's been acting totally normal - like nothing even happened. And that's fine. It's totally fine because Gerard was drunk and maybe doesn't even remember and he's way too old for Frank anyway and Frank doesn't even *like* Gerard. In fact, he actively *dislikes* Gerard because he doesn't shower and his hair is always greasy and once he starts talking about something political he never shuts up.
And Frank was doing just fine not thinking about Gerard tonight. He was. He had fun playing board games with the kids and made up a bedtime story for them about farts. It was hilarious. But then after they went to sleep he was bored and started flipping through TV channels and of course there was some stupid romcom on with people making out all over the place and now Frank's sitting here like a total lunatic touching his lips and trying to remember why it was so cool to feel Gerard's teeth with his tongue. (3,570 words)]]>author:rubytuesday5681 fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff fic:genre:character.study beings:teenagers occupation:student.high.school occupation:student.college relationship:UST things:memories location:Way.basement band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-08 recced:2014-08 challenge:2014.Pod_Togetherhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:d5b0ed28bf3d/turps: Slash and Burn2014-08-10T15:11:58+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2065620
turloughQUOTE: The problem with the Ways is, Ray thinks, they're fucking insane. Not always, sometimes whole days can go by when he's lulled into a false sense of security - whole days where for all outward appearances, the Ways are so-called 'normal' people, with their only eccentricities being a penchant for hair dye and excessive comic book reading.
And then there are days like today.
"This is a stupid idea." It's not the first time Ray's made that observation. Or the second or third. Hell, at this point he's probably into triple figures, but it's something that needs repeating. "A stupid fucking idea and you're going to end up eaten alive by a rose bush."
"Rose bushes don't eat you, they strangle," Gerard says, blase as he arranges himself on the bench and deliberately bypasses Ray's point. "Remember that attack in zone two? It took nearly an hour to get you untangled." (912 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff beings:killer.plants concept:apocalypse concept:ordinary.lives concept:mutation relationship:friendship setting:forest/jungle band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Ray challenge:2014.H/C.Bingo +length:short.-1k posted:2014-08 recced:2014-08https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:86eab838f283/mournful_optimist: Tonight2014-07-30T21:30:40+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/2014215
turloughQUOTE: A sudden high screech of violin makes Gerard's breath catch. It stings deep down in his mind, but it's barely a surprise at this point. Mikey's agony flickers in and out at random intervals these days. There's nothing Gerard can do except try not to make it worse, which means pushing down his own emotions. The rage frightens Mikey, but it's automatic - BL/ind is torturing Gerard's brother. It's funny how Gerard used to think he understood *revenge*. He hadn't even grasped the concept back then.
"Please tell me that's not his only copy," begs a voice from behind him.
Gerard turns. It's just DecayDance, looming even though he's a short fucker. In the background, Dr. D is leading Stereo Nova into the inner office, the two of them conversing in low secret murmurs.
"Come on, don't tell me you don't like that album," Decay insists.
Gerard looks down. He's holding a scratched-to-shit copy of The White Album. He sets it aside. "Two pristine copies in the vault," he answers blankly. He doesn't hate Decay, but the dude can be taxing at the best of times, and Gerard's concentration is split. Most of his mind is busy with Mikey.
Unfortunately Decay doesn't take the hint, squatting down a few feet away with a jaunty, "Fancy meeting you here." The real problem is, Gerard and Decay already have an understanding between them, and Gerard can't be too much of an asshole if he isn't prepared to break the truce and face the consequences. Allies are difficult to come by lately with Korse always tracking them, and Decay is well-connected and almost universally liked, which makes him valuable to know.
It's always messy to meet someone in the 'zones that you knew before the war. DecayDance leads the Youngbloods, and Party Poison has to deal with him when the two crews cross paths. Gerard wishes Pete Wentz had less distinctive eyes, or he wouldn't have known who was underneath the disguise of wild black dreads and thick beard, and they wouldn't have this awkwardness, this *I know who you are* tension.
Gerard tosses his head to get his filthy red hair out of his eyes. "What do you want, Decay?" Best to set the terms at the beginning.
"Heard you're looking for information. I might have a line on something," Decay says.
His heart pounds. Anything would help, it's been so long. But Gerard keeps a neutral expression. "Might?"
Decay shuffles closer, too close for Gerard's comfort, but more private. Even in safe places, you can't be too careful, and Gerard can respect that. (31,480 words)]]>author:mournful_optimist fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study activity:gun.fights activity:hacking activity:kidnapping activity:rescue activity:performing beings:draculoids beings:kids concept:apocalypse concept:brainwashing concept:dystopia concept:mindmeld/soulbond concept:music concept:rebellion concept:sobriety concept:torture concept:violence concept:war condition:amnesia condition:injury condition:PTSD geography:US:California occupation:rebel relationship:friendship relationship:brothers relationship:Waycest relationship:UST setting:desert setting:on.tour smut:fucking smut:handjob things:Trans.Am time:pre-band time:early.days things:tattoos band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy band:Panic.at.the.Disco pairing:Gerard/Mikey(primary) pairing:Ray/Show.Pony(secondary) pov:Gerard challenge:2014.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-07 recced:2014-07 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:94312b1aed04/fleurdeliser & tuesdaysgone: Looking for Satellites2014-07-03T18:29:33+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090906
turloughQUOTE: He stepped into the embassy gardens and took a deep breath. The nice thing about living on a space station was that there were always fragrant flowers from around the galaxy blooming. He made his way to his favorite secluded bench and saw someone sitting there already.
It took a moment because the shaggy hair and clothing were different, but he recognized the Oraculan trader, Gerard Way.
"The headache wasn't on purpose, I promise," Gerard said without waiting for a formal greeting. Grant raised an eyebrow. Gerard looked befuddled. "I was actually shielding. You said that, and I noticed Ambassador Beneti wasn't there, so I stopped."
"And my headache went away," Grant finished.
"And I got one," Gerard said with a grimace.
"So you've come to assure me that you've paid the telepathic price?" Grant asked, studying him with interest.
"No. I was curious as to why, actually. Do you have this problem with Ambassador Beneti?"
"Not that I've noticed," Grant answered.
"Hmm," Gerard said.
"Well, I suppose that's probably not much of an indicator. If he's been using anything other than his own will and skill to block all the voices, he probably wouldn't have an effect on you anyway."
"What are you saying?" Grant asked slowly. "That I'm -"
"Well, telepathically sensitive, of course," Gerard replied. "I can tell; didn't you know?"
"I can't say that I did. My primary exposure to your people had been Beneti, the woman who I use as a tailor, and another who was... decidedly not shielded. I was mostly telling a joke at the expense of your conspicuously absent ambassador," Grant replied. "Your little experiment with shields, your headache... Suddenly dropping shields in a packed room would do that, wouldn't it?"
"You're trying to convince me I'm making it up," Gerard replied. It was not a question.
"Consider it skepticism and a request for more evidence," Grant said.
"If I had more evidence, I'd give it to you. It was just an idle observation." He said it perfectly calmly, but Grant wasn't sure.
"Unlike you, I have no way to know if you're lying to me."
"Maybe you do," Gerard replied obstinately. "Telepathic talent is so often written off as something else - charisma, instinct." He stopped talking and cocked his head to the side. "I do want to hear about that other Oraculan you've known."
Grant laughed. "That story is such a cliche, I rarely tell it. I was newly traveling the galaxy from Earth and met an Oraculan on my first space station stop."
Gerard's lips twitched. "And? Actually, let's do a test. I'll put up my shields and you can tell the story with a few key details missing, that no one could guess. And then with your permission, I'll touch your hand and fill in what you left out."
"Don't you think that's a bit unnecessary?" Grant didn't have the time to spend his precious free time doing parlor tricks with an Oraculan. Even a pretty one.
"I... probably," Gerard admitted. "I just find the fact that you had a headache when I was shielding and not the other way around fascinating." That confession went further toward convincing Grant that Gerard was telling the truth than anything else.
"It could be a stress headache," Grant pointed out.
"Let's just do this one experiment, please," Gerard replied. (25,850 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:tuesdaysgone fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:category:het fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU activity:bartering beings:Grant.Morrison beings:aliens beings:aristocrats concept:ordinary.lives concept:esp:telepathy concept:sobriety occupation:ambassador occupation:trader relationship:poly smut:het.sex smut:fucking smut:blowjob setting:spaceship/spacestation band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Mindless.Self.Indulgence pairing:Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pairing:Gerard/Lindsey(secondary) pov:Gerard pov:Grant.Morrison +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-12 recced:2014-06 concept:in.space!https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:170d4ec104a1/winterlover: Rimming ficlet2014-07-03T18:15:36+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1759405
turloughQUOTE: Poison kind of hates rimming. It’s not the smell or taste that he dislikes. They managed to shower somewhere, so it’s a mixture of almost-clean Gerard, only a hint of salty sweat and the unavoidable dust, but mostly the flavor of arousal that makes his mouth water. He doesn’t dislike it because Gerard is making these noises. (165 words)]]>author:winterlover fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:PWP relationship:established smut:rimming band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-06 recced:2014-06 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:5cd132410a39/akamine_chan: Save Yourself Tonight (Sharpest Lives 'verse 22)2014-06-10T21:31:14+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1692833
turloughQUOTE: Gerard loves to kiss, and Poison doesn't get it. What's the point? It's not like sucking someone off or using your hand; there's no payoff. Life's too fucking dangerous for something as useless as kissing.
That never stops Gerard, though.
He climbs into Poison's lap and and just kisses him, over and over, mouth wet and hot. Poison struggles under Gerard's weight, arching up in search of friction and pressure, his hands settling on Gerard's hips, pulling him closer, *harder*.
Gerard makes an unhappy little sound and twines their fingers together, pushing them above Poison's head, nipping at Poison's lip in punishment when Poison tries to move them. Poison subsides, lets Gerard do whatever he wants,
Which is kissing. (570 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study universe:Sharpest.Lives.verse relationship:established band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Party.Poison +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-05 recced:2014-06 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2c3016cd0373/turps: What I'm Looking For2014-03-15T23:14:30+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1289005
turloughQUOTE: For a while, things remained okay.
While being a sheep wasn't cool, Gerard got used to wandering deserted streets, his hooves clattering against the sidewalk, Mikey his constant companion. Together they kept to the shadows, Gerard showing Mikey the parks where you could eat semi-clean grass, baa-laughing when Mikey attempted to run and rolled down a slight bank, his still wobbly legs splayed and wool straggly and dull in the moonlight.
Sure, they weren't hunting, and maybe extended family gatherings were an exercise in ignoring cousins licking their lips, but none of that mattered. How could it when Gerard had Mikey, and they spent hours concocting plans about undercover sheep heroes and discussing how Gerard could gather and spin his own wool.
It's how everyone got scarves for Christmas that year. If they looked a bit tatty with multiple dropped stitches and a distinct scent of BO, well, that was fine. His parents and grandma wore them regardless. (1,000 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:transformation.animate activity:knitting beings:animals.others concept:ordinary.lives relationship:brothers geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Gerard challenge:2014.PicFor1000 +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-03 recced:2014-03 fic:source:picturehttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:f69a69b25d0b/anonymous: How Far Down2014-03-08T21:21:25+00:00
https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744043
turloughQUOTE: "I don't believe this," blurts Patrick. "That's..."
"Exactly what you want to do to me?" Gerard gives him a knowing smile. "Yeah. I can tell you want to push me around. Right?"
"Yeah," says Patrick hoarsely. He thinks, now, that he could tell Gerard what he wants to do to him, but the rush of images in his head is too much - he doesn't know where to start.
"Do you know what you could make me do?" Gerard goes on.
He's too pretty, dirty and sharp and unreal in the yellow room. Patrick decides then; he's going to do this, and do it how he wants to.
He returns Gerard's smile, feeling saw-toothed and unreal, and says deliberately, "Anything."
"Now we're talking," Gerard says happily, and Patrick sees his other persona settle back over him: he suddenly looks lost and too-thin and needy.
"God, I want to break you," he finds himself saying. For a horrifying moment he's afraid he's fucked up - said something bad or stupid - but Gerard leans toward him, eyes closing, and sighs.
"Just tell me what to do," he says, and slow warmth pours into Patrick's chest.
Patrick brushes past him and sits down on the bed. "Show me that you want it."
"You want the...?"
"The campy seductive thing, yeah," Patrick says, and Gerard grins at him.
It's not the same campy seductive thing; Gerard runs his fingers through his wild hair, stretches, and slinks forward to sink down on his knees in front of Patrick. His stupid too-big muscle shirt shifts to reveal a new slice of pale skin, muscle and the soft curve of extra flesh at his hip. (3,490 words)(also at http://no-tags.dreamwidth.org/30700.html )]]>fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:PWP fic:genre:character.study concept:ordinary.lives concept:prostitution relationship:d/s smut:roleplay smut:pain.kink smut:masturbation smut:blowjob band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy pairing:Gerard/Patrick(primary) pov:Patrick challenge:2014.No.Tags +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-02 recced:2014-03 author:*anonymoushttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:dd3ebd972897/gorgeousnerd: Powderpuff2014-02-07T18:25:32+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/912974
turloughQUOTE: Ray smiles a little sideways. "Besides, you look hot."
Coming from Ray, that means a lot.
They run onto the track when they're fully changed, pom poms shaking. The varsity and JV cheer squads are on the field in uniforms, but before Frank can spot Gerard, Jamia intercepts, eyes shining above her greasepaint streaks.
"I thought you'd fit my uniform." She tugs on the skirt a little. "How's it feel?"
"*Cold*. Don't you have a game to play?"
Jamia kisses him on the cheek. "To win."
She moves aside, and the rest of the cheer squad comes into view. Gerard's in the center, next to co-captain Lindsey, but everyone's heads are bowed while Gerard speaks too quietly for Frank to hear. Gerard keeps flicking the flag in the back pocket of his football pants nervously - powderpuff isn't full-contact football - and runs his hands through his hair nervously.
It's interesting seeing Gerard like this. It's easy to think he'd be super butch in the football gear and more effiminate in the cheer outfit, but that's not how it works at all. Maybe it was being around smaller, rounder women, but cheering, Frank can never look away from the angle of Gerard's jaw or the jut of his shoulders. Today, with the pads and a helmet in hand, the curves of Gerard's hips and the prettiness of his face are impossible to ignore. Frank starts to lick his lips before he tastes the chalkiness of his cheap lipstick and makes himself stop.
But Gerard looks up, and when his eyes point Frank's way, he licks his lips for Frank. Frank shifts on his feet as Gerard jogs over.
"Hey," Gerard says when he stops a couple feet away.
"Hey. You look good out there."
A comment like that the night before, when they did the dinner-and-a-movie thing for the first time, would have made Gerard duck his head or blush. Not now. Gerard's eyes are dark and fixed, and fuck, good thing Jamia's skirt isn't too short. Frank needs something to hide his growing boner. (2,290 words)(also at http://firmament.dreamwidth.org/67750.html )]]>author:gorgeousnerd fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:crossdressing beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives concept:genderfuck occupation:student.high.school relationship:established smut:blowjob location:Way.basement geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard challenge:2013.Kink.Bingo +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2014-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:78844169aa40/rubytuesday5681: Mikey Way's Annoying Older Brother2014-02-07T15:34:29+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1084916
turloughQUOTE: He surprises himself then by saying out loud, "I don't get it." He thinks he must be drunk. When he's sober he only really talks to Gerard if Gerard's asked him a question or if Frank really needs something from him.
"Hmmm." Gerard's eyes are heavy-lidded. He's obviously more than half-drunk, too. He perks up a bit, eyes brightening as he asks, "What don't you get?"
"Just -" Frank waves a hand, agitated now. "Mikey and Pete." The alcohol is definitely affecting him, because suddenly Frank feels like venting. To *Gerard*. "I mean, it isn't that there's anything wrong with Pete. I guess he's okay to look at, but Mikey acts like he's the coolest dude on earth just because he already has a car and that stupid tattoo."
"I don't know." Gerard scratches his head, thinking for a moment. "I guess the excitement over the car is really the convenience factor. It's nice dating someone who can pick you up whenever they want." Frank isn't able to stop himself from making an exaggerated gagging sound when Gerard says "dating". That makes Gerard smile, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. Frank suddenly feels hot for no real reason. He pulls off his hoodie and realizes his cheeks feel flushed. Definitely drunk. "And you have to admit," Gerard continues, "Finding a way to get an underage tattoo is pretty badass. I know how hot you are to get ink of your own. Maybe there's a little jealousy there."
"Fuck you," Frank spits out.
Gerard just laughs. "Could be jealousy over more than just ink actually. It really sucks when your best friend starts dating before you. Same thing happened to me when Ray and Christa started dating."
Frank cocks his head to the side. Could this be real? Is Gerard Way actually able to relate to something Frank is going through? How odd. (3,140 words)]]>author:rubytuesday5681 fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff activity:drinking beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives occupation:student.high.school occupation:student.college relationship:UST location:Way.basement geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pairing:Mikey/Pete(secondary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.Bandom.Holidays +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-12 recced:2014-02https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:f20c0efc43d1/dapatty: To Be the Friction In Your Jeans2014-02-07T15:26:40+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1095902
turloughQUOTE: "Oh shit! I'm so sorry," Ray said, steadying Gee with his hands on their shoulders and then let go. It was never cool to hold strangers, unless the stranger you were meeting was Dewees and Dewees was a dude with no personal space. But anyway, Ray was trying not to stare at this outfit which he thought was some sort of a-line dress-like tunic thing that was black over these amazing tights that were lace and had this delicate skull pattern. And *oh shit* they were talking to Ray.
"It's cool. I probably ran into you. I was too busy with my nose in a book," and then giggled this ridiculous and endearing little laugh and Ray might have to admit to being a little gone for Gee already. Frank was going to laugh at him so hard.
Ray smiled to find that Gee was holding the same paperback that Ray had swung into the bookstore to pick up.
"Hey, I stopped by to get this," Ray said gesturing at the book.
"Yeah? I love this series," Gee gestured wildly with the book. "I hear it's Toby's last good day."
"I know! Like the other days have been good? Fuck," Ray laughed. "Our hearts are gonna be totally broken after this one. Probably."
"Yeah. I should stop by Frank and Jamia's and get preemptive comfort pastries," Gee said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind their ear.
"I was gonna swing by and get some tarts, myself," Ray said and then in a moment of boldness that he had no idea where it came from, "Wanna go get a coffee?" (1,650 words)]]>author:dapatty fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff concept:ordinary.lives concept:genderfuck occupation:shop.assistant relationship:UST band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Ray(primary) pairing:Frank/Jamia(secondary) pov:Ray challenge:2013.Bandom.Holidays +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-12 recced:2014-02 setting:café/diner/restauranthttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:dbf1402b0c22/gorgeousnerd: Frank the Crankiest Elf2014-01-25T20:33:37+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1139765
turloughQUOTE: Except the fucking band was doing a show entirely full of *Christmas covers*. The lead singer was hot in that week-old-black-eyeliner kind of way, sure, but he was wearing a Santa hat, and Frank was right in front of the stage, glaring at the drum kit.
Frank stayed where he was, arms crossed, as the band played through Santa Claus is Coming to Town and I'll Be Home for Christmas. Their guitarist was thrashing through the songs like he was in a metal band, and maybe Frank hated fucking Christmas, but he could respect good playing. He'd still been playing up north and everything; he couldn't let his own skills get rusty.
When the band took a break to get water, people started yelling requests. The lead singer strutted around as he sipped at his water and threw out a line or two of most of the song people called out acapella. Of course he had fucking vocal chops.
"I see why you like them," Frank begrudgingly muttered to Dewees during a snippet of All I Want For Christmas is You. Dewees elbowed him back. (2,090 words)(also at http://firmament.dreamwidth.org/71117.html )]]>author:gorgeousnerd fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fluff activity:performing holiday:Christmas concept:magic relationship:friendship smut:blowjob setting:bar/club location:Way.basement geography:US:New.Jersey geography:myth:North.Pole band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2014-01 recced:2014-01https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2b206b5fc792/fleurdeliser & ohnoktcsk & tuesdaysgone: London Calling2013-12-13T19:08:36+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1070877
turloughQUOTE: "We can get some lunch and discuss your problem scene."
Fifteen is... not long. Gerard glances in the mirror. "Twenty?" he suggests.
Grant laughs. "Twenty, then." They say their goodbyes, and Gerard drops his phone and races for the shower.
He takes the fastest shower ever and is out the door with only a few seconds to spare. At least he remembers his tablet and his moleskine. It's a close call. He didn't remember a scarf, so he's bright read by the time he reaches the tube stop.
Grant is already waiting, and he smiles when he sees Gerard. Them he gets a closer look, and the smile becomes an outright grin.
"What? Do I have toothpaste on my face? Or something in my hair?" His hands go straight to his face and up to smooth his hair.
"Your shirt is inside out, and the less said about your hair the better," Grant tells him, elaborately severe. Then he winks. "Could be jealousy on my part. You're perfect. Let's go."
Gerard wants to protest, because of the two of them, Grant is the one who looks perfect, in his fine wool overcoat and designer suit. He swallows it down, though. "So, where are we going for lunch?"
"I've just remembered there's a little cafe just down the road that does spectacular seitan," Grant says. "Among other things."
"Sold," Gerard says. "What are you up to over here, anyway? Not that I mind."
"Just running some errands that I've been putting off," Grant shrugs. "There's a lot of work to do yet to get ready for the party in a few weeks."
"I'm really looking forward to it, by the way," Gerard says.
"Likewise." Grant ushers him into the cafe with a hand at his waist. "So," Grant says, once they're seated and the waiter has taken their orders. "This scene that's been giving you trouble."
Gerard moans and describes the scene and what he's trying to do with it and then passes over his tablet, open to the scene, and then his moleskine. "This is a different way I tried to write it while on the tube last week, but I don't know. Neither is what I want."
Grant sips his tea and reads both versions carefully. "What is most important to you about the scene?" he asks.
Gerard opens his mouth to reply, but stops and makes himself consider the question carefully. "Probably... probably the conversation between the sisters?"
"Focus on that, then," Grant says. "Write out that conversation exactly how you want it and then build the section around it."
"It's not -"
"Elaborate enough? Artistic enough? Doesn't matter. Or - if that doesn't work for you, make it matter."
Gerard is quiet for a second, thinking it over. "Maybe... huh." Grant laughs and pushes the moleskin back across the table.
"Feel free to keep sending me things as you work and I can give you feedback. I like both of these scenes, but I can see why you're unhappy with them. I think shifting focus will help you," Grant says.
"Probably," Gerard allows. "Do you - can I show you something else?"
"Absolutely," Grant agrees, and Gerard takes a deep breath and flips the moleskin forward a few pages. It's a new thing he hasn't been able to get out of his head. Gerard isn't even sure where it's going.
"More tube writing," he explains. "It's... just a thing. Another thing." He's not entirely sure why he's even showing the pages to Grant, except that Grant's a fucking *good* editor. Gerard kind of wants to see what he makes of it, if the idea makes sense to somebody else. (28,620 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:ohnoktcsk author:tuesdaysgone fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:crossover fic:genre:character.study activity:hair.cutting/dyeing beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:sobriety occupation:writer occupation:artist/designer occupation:editor things:Gerard's.platinum.hair relationship:friendship relationship:UST smut:masturbation smut:frottage smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking setting:office geography:UK:London band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Gerard pov:Grant.Morrison +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-12 recced:2013-12https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:34208b8ba46e/x_dark_siren_x: The Danger is I'm Dangerous (Might Just Tear You Apart)2013-11-13T22:27:52+00:00
https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031860
turloughQUOTE: Sometimes she wanted to tip her head back, lift up her arms and let the neon slide over the colour dripping down her skin (Killjoy bright and just as deadly). She wanted to let it all fade, let the beat work its way into her blood, her head, for the pounding crush of people and bright lights wash away the white she still saw behind her eyes.
Ten years, and the sharp ache had only ever dulled. Left her empty and grasping even as memories faded. Left her vicious, desperate.
(Grace still saw them, the slump of red against white walls and inked hands barring the doors. (429 words)(also at http://ashers-kiss.livejournal.com/10260.html#cutid2 )]]>author:x_dark_siren_x fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study universe:Killjoys.verse concept:ordinary.lives concept:rebellion concept:char.death(past) things:memories setting:bar/club band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Grace +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-10 recced:2013-11 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:73d61cbeac11/annemari: Find Out Your Hiding Places Again2013-11-06T19:18:08+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1020267
turloughQUOTE: Gerard doesn't think he's lost enough blood to start hallucinating.
"Shit," Mikey says. "Shit, Gee, what the fuck?"
"How?" Gerard asks. "How do you - how did I - ow, fuck, motherfucker."
"Stop moving," Mikey says. "Okay, now get up, we have to go."
"That's a contradiction," Gerard says, and lets Mikey pull him up. His side is bleeding, and it really hurts like a motherfucker, but his costume absorbed some of the impact and helped keep the worst damage at bay.
"But -" Gerard wheezes, leaning heavily on Mikey. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"What are *you* doing here?"
"I asked you first. Ow."
"Easy," Mikey says. "Shit, we need to get you to the hospital."
"I'm fine," Gerard says automatically. He stumbles, and groans when the wound throbs. Fucking ow. "Okay, never mind. A hospital sounds really good."
There's a blast to their right and Mikey curses and pulls them to cover behind a shelf. "Can't you tell your guys to fucking back off?"
Gerard rests his head against the shelf, panting. "Hey," he says. "We. We didn't start this."
Mikey doesn't reply; he pulls Gerard up again and they keep moving. Gerard follows him blindly; he pushed his mask up when he got hit and the enemy ran up to him. Except the enemy turned out to be *Mikey*. (2,730 words)]]>author:annemaris fandom:Bandom fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:AU activity:rescue concept:superpowers condition:injury occupation:vigilante occupation:musician relationship:brothers setting:mall setting:clinic/hospital time:post-band band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Gerard challenge:2013.Bandom_Meme.Exchange +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-10 recced:2013-11https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:f61d1a65a13c/Lucifuge5: Maps, Charms and Other Things That Go Bump in the Dark2013-11-06T19:08:42+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1021073
turloughQUOTE: "Yo, dude! You with the 'fro!"
Ray readies himself for whoever's calling him. He turns around, mindful of keeping his face blank. "Hey," he says like he has all the time in the world. There's a short guy waving at him.
"'sup? You're in my class. C'mon," the short guy replies.
Even though it makes him feel like he's a dolt, Ray doesn't move. "Um..."
"Psy-Astronomy, right?" the guy quirks an eyebrow. He's barely over 5' tall. His dark brown hair, styled like he's trying to grow out a mohawk, curls at the ends. His school uniform looks a bit askew, his shirt only half-way tucked in and the tie knotted as if it was an afterthought. A pair of aviator-style sunglasses hang from his shirt's front pocket. The guy waits until Ray starts walking toward the classroom before he goes inside, sitting down by one of the windows.
Ray follows him quietly and takes the empty seat next to the guy. "How...?"
"Did I know?" The guy sticks his right hand out. "Hi, I'm Frank and I'm semi-clairvoyant. Also, I saw you pacing up and down this hallway. Looking like a lost, shaggy dog." He giggles.
"Huh, OK. I guess that's as good of an explanation as any." Ray frowns, confused but relieved that he found the right classroom. "I'm - I'm Ray." (2,290 words)]]>author:lucifuge5 fandom:Bandom fandom:Harry.Potter fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fusion fic:genre:fluff universe:I'm.Not.Okay beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives concept:magic occupation:student.high.school relationship:friendship setting:high.school geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:Ray +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-10 recced:2013-11 challenge:2013.Bandom_Meme.Exchangehttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:03da67dfb05d/snarkydame: Interval2013-10-30T19:39:14+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1011738
turloughQUOTE: They left tracks here, as they did in very few places - the massive, burning hooves of the Hunters' horses left prints lined in fire that guttered and darkened and cooled, and the paws of the hounds...
The hounds. They were wolves once. They had names. When they were here, he could almost remember his own.
He whined, and his companion nipped at his jaw. He ducked his head and leaned into the other's broad chest. Something deep within him, something that never entirely went away (not even when they were running through myth and dreams) said *pack*. Said *family*. It murmured so even under the all-consuming pull of the King's Hunt, and here, in this place that made them almost real, it was loud enough for him to notice the missing note in the chord.
He whined again, taking another step. Only the hound at his side (he never left his side) ever strayed so far from the Hunters. Where was the third? His *brother*. Where was his brother? Almost, almost, he could remember his name - could feel it forming, just at the edge of a thought.
The horns rang out, and he shook from the force of them. The sound was overwhelming - he could feel his edges fraying back into smoke, thought and memory already gone. The Hunt was moving. (1,860 words)(also at http://theladysnarkydame.dreamwidth.org/27235.html )]]>author:snarkydame fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:urban.fantasy beings:vampires beings:werewolves beings:faeries concept:ordinary.lives concept:family concept:magic concept:pack concept:quest concept:supernatural things:memories relationship:established relationship:brothers band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard pov:Mikey +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-10 recced:2013-10https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:53bc9f2cdf79/anonymous: The Heart You Need2013-10-17T21:00:19+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/941467
turloughQUOTE: 'Frank?' Gerard's voice pressing against his mind didn't even surprise him; Frank struggled upright, shaking out the arm he'd landed on. 'Are you awake?' Gerard went on, his mind-voice sharp with something - excitement? Or panic? Frank shook his head, trying to settle his thoughts back into place.
'I am now. What is it, what's wrong?' He couldn't help the worry that crept into his own tone; he'd spent the last two days at school trying not to think about what kind of trouble Gerard could be in that he wouldn't let Frank help with. In the dark, with the House and the city asleep around him and Gerard's mind bleeding urgency through their link, it rose up like a wave of dread, threatening to swallow him.
'No, I'm sorry, just -' It was like Gerard cut himself off for a moment, dropping out of the link almost entirely before coming back. 'Did you mean it, that you'd help me? I was gonna - we had it set up, it was gonna be fine, but something happened, I don't even know... We gotta do it now, and Mikey won't stay the fuck home - can you get out, you think? I don't think I can manage myself, not for all of us.'
'What?' Frank couldn't make much sense of that, Gerard's thoughts were jumping about all over the place, but if he needed his help... 'Where are you?' he sent, tilting his head to listen to the house. Apart from Uncle Tony drowsing in front of some holo in the back sitting room, everyone was asleep. Frank fumbled his way over to the closet, grabbing for clothes so he could change out of his pajamas.
'End of your street,' Gerard replied, and, 'Are you sure, Frankie? We could get in trouble, like, *real* trouble.' Frank could feel the excitement that filtered through the link, though, and it sent a little thrill shivering through him too as he scrambled into pants and a hoodie. He reached for his sneakers with his mind, floating them behind him as he cracked open the door and tiptoed down the hall. If he tried to go out the front in the middle of the night, the security monitor would freak, but there was a spot in back by the compound wall...
He had to stop on the back porch to stamp his feet into his shoes, but climbing the tree was easy; he'd done it a hundred times. Getting over the wall was trickier; Frank's hand slipped off the branch too soon, and there was a sickening lurch of falling for a moment before he could gather his wits together and *shove* toward the ground to cushion himself. He still scraped the heels of his hands on the rough gravel of the path, and the Fernandes' watchdog next door started barking from the noise, but Frank took off running and it had shut up by the time he reached the street.
'Gee?' Both the moons were up; it was totally bright, and Frank examined his stinging palms, picking out crumbs of dug-in stone. He wasn't even bleeding; score.
'This way.' It was like a tug on his mind, and Frank turned automatically, trotting up the street. It must be really late; there weren't any shuttlecars out, the air silent and cool. He couldn't see Gerard, but he could feel him, the hum of his mind behind his shields, so Frank only jumped a tiny bit when a hand darted out of the bushes and tugged him off the street. (93,440 words)]]>fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study activity:drinking activity:drug.use activity:gun.fights activity:moving activity:rescue activity:sabotage beings:Grant.Morrison beings:kids beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives concept:art concept:dystopia concept:esp:telepathy concept:esp:general concept:mindmeld/soulbond concept:politics concept:rebellion occupation:student.elementary.school occupation:student.college occupation:intern occupation:businessman occupation:politician occupation:rebel relationship:friendship relationship:UST smut:frottage smut:masturbation smut:telepathic.sex setting:alien.planet setting:spaceship/spacestation setting:elementary.school setting:office band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-10 concept:in.space! universe:Danger.Days author:*anonymoushttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:004464c1d897/snarkydame: Frank Iero, AI2013-10-02T20:10:04+00:00
https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051533
turloughQUOTE: He turned around, finally. "I've heard of you," he said.
"Everyone's heard of me." I was fucking famous.
"I need your help."
"Stands to reason." No one sought me out to chat about the weather.
"I need to find some people," he said, hooking his hands in his coat pockets. "I've been looking since the Crash."
"You and half the world," I said, and meant it. Most of the new additions hadn't been conscious when they'd been connected - no choice of landing, no Guides. HELENA was a big, big place to wake up in.
"I've heard you can help me."
"Depends. Can you afford me?"
"Depends," he said, smiling that same lopsided smile. "What are you charging this week?"
"Hmmm." Charging coin was pointless - all I had to do was rewrite some code. Pull it out of the damn ether. Bartering was more for fun than anything else.
"Who am I looking for?"
"A ninja," he said, "and a bird. At least, that's the latest description I have of him."
Well. He *had* been in some interesting Sectors.
I rubbed a finger through the dust I'd allowed to settle on my desk. It's all about atmosphere, this detective business. I was particularly proud of the shadows cast by the slowly spinning ceiling fan.
"For a ninja, and what may or may not be a bird? I'll need a save crystal, Blue Grade. And a Trans-Sector warp key." Couldn't spin those out of raw code. Too unstable without without authorization. Which meant they were rare, and getting rarer.
Theory was, there wasn't anyone left on the outside to authorize new ones.
He held out a hand. After a moment, in which I tried and failed to remember anyone who knew who I was offering to touch me voluntarily, I took it.
"I'm Gerard," he said. "I'll take those terms." (3,600 words) (also at http://no-tags.dreamwidth.org/22549.html )]]>author:snarkydame fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:het fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:cyberpunk fic:genre:action/adventure activity:rescue activity:hacking concept:ordinary.lives concept:artificial.intelligence concept:virtual.reality concept:apocalypse concept:violence concept:quest occupation:police/detective occupation:adventurer occupation:hacker/programmer relationship:UST setting:virtual.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Lindsey(primary) pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.No.Tags +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:37bad680c996/ohnoktcsk: And Me Here On the Ground2013-09-26T21:35:21+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/944242
turloughQUOTE: The address on the pickup slip leads him down a winding mess of side streets. It turns out to belong to a shop with dusty windows, tucked into the ground level of an old, faded sandstone building. The sign hanging above the door says, in spidery writing, 'Curiosities'.
A bell tinkles when Frank pushes open the door. The shop looks like it's seen better days; half the shelves are empty, and what's left isn't anything to write home about, all scuffed furniture, tarnished brass, and musty books. The light that filters in through the murky front window is dancing with dust motes.
It's definitely not flashy enough to be the kind of place a wizard would run, so that's something. And hey, no giant spiders yet. Frank's cautiously optimistic.
"Hello?" he calls.
A man steps out from a doorway behind the counter. He's tall and much more well-dressed than Frank would have expected, given the state of the shop he apparently runs, but okay. He gives Frank a calculating look. "Are you from the courier service?"
"That's me." Frank flashes his courier's badge, then reaches into his bag. "I've got a receipt for you to sign, and I'll need to you fill out a delivery slip."
"Of course," the man agrees, placidly. He's got an accent - a Northerner, maybe. "I'll go and fetch the package."
The package, when the man reappears from the back room and sets it on the counter, turns out to be a smallish rectangle wrapped in plain brown paper. In the 'contents' section of the delivery slip, the man writes, 'a naturalist's observations re: the healing properties of mermaid song; rare'.
When Frank picks up the package to tuck it away in his bag, he sees that there's a hand-drawn symbol on the underside. It's simple, but something about it draws Frank's eye. He wonders if it's the curiosity shop's logo, or maybe some sort of guild sign.
Frank's not getting paid to ask questions, though, so he just gives a mental shrug and indicates where the man needs to sign on the delivery slip. His signature is an illegible flourish.
"The shop may be a bit difficult to find," the man warns him, once the paperwork and the payment is all squared away. "And when you do find it, you'll need to knock three times on the left side of the front door. There shouldn't be any problems after that."
"Okay," Frank says, looking over the paperwork for the address and already plotting a route in his head. It's a little weird, but it's not the weirdest delivery instruction he's ever had to follow. It's not even the weirdest delivery instruction he's had to follow this month.
"Also," the man adds, snapping his fingers like he's just remembered, "you'd best avoid taking the parcel near the water. Just in case."
That's weirder, but whatever. Frank can deal.
Frank politely bids the man a good day and heads back out to the street. There's a crow sitting on the handlebars of his bike and giving him a shrewd look. "Fuck off, birdbrain," Frank tells it, shooing it with his hands.
The crow flies away. (32,150 words)]]>author:ohnoktcsk fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:action/adventure activity:drinking activity:rescue beings:Grant.Morrison beings:dragons beings:birds beings:dryads concept:ordinary.lives concept:art concept:magic concept:music things:memories occupation:courier occupation:artist/designer relationship:friendship relationship:UST smut:frottage setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance band:Fall.Out.Boy pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:0d2352312e67/fleurdeliser & tuesdaysgone: Mingling Hands and Mingling Glances2013-09-20T16:40:30+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/944293
turloughQUOTE: "Please tell me there's coffee."
"I promised you coffee, didn't I?" Grant says, going over to the pot he keeps on a bookcase in his office.
"Because you are the best. At this point, I'd probably take last week's dregs if I had to," Gerard replies. Grant turns back toward him with a steaming mug Gerard knows is just how he likes it. "Thank you," he breathes, catching Grant's wrist and squeezing with his free hand.
"Anything for you, pet."
Gerard's chest tightens a little bit just like it always does when Grant calls him that. He takes a sip of his coffee and breathes in deep through his nose. "Fuck, that's good. You really are good to me."
Grant doesn't make the expected joke this time around, just smiles and pours his own coffee. That's... hm. Gerard had gotten used to the way things were between them. He supposes maybe he'd been the one to initiate what happened Friday night. But he couldn't help himself.
Gerard never has a problem pulling - Grant thinks it's hilarious, because Gerard usually barely even has to exert himself - but this summer hadn't brought anyone exciting, and Grant had been *gone*, and Gerard had missed him a shocking amount. And he'd missed Grant's kisses and touches almost as much. It's not as if he got them that often to begin with. It's never, ever been a problem, though - this thing they do - and Gerard's not ready to let it become one now.
"So how was your time with Mikey?" Grant asks, voice totally natural.
"It was great," Gerard replies as normally as he can. "Went to a show Saturday night."
"Nice. And besides the eight am from hell? Anything exciting on your agenda?"
"Sitting here with you and grading, and cursing myself for assigning homework the first week?" Gerard asks hopefully.
"Not just lurking in the English department in case a certain of my coworkers comes by?" Grant inquires.
"That's just a happy side benefit," Gerard says and waves his hand dismissively. An awesome side benefit. But mostly, he just likes sitting here with Grant. His department head is a friend of Grant's, and he'll occasionally stop by and threaten to give Gerard's office away "since you seem to prefer this one," he teases. It's true, really. He is usually in one of the studios or in Grant's office when he doesn't have office hours.
Gerard does keep one eye on the open door, though, and not only in case of student invasion. He really wouldn't mind another eyeful of Professor Iero, who's a sinfully attractive little morsel. It's Grant who actually spots him, though. "Professor Iero, you look like you could use some coffee," he calls. (21,200 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:tuesdaysgone fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:art concept:literature concept:polyamory condition:illness occupation:artist/designer occupation:writer occupation:teacher relationship:friendship relationship:friends.with.benefits relationship:UST relationship:poly smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking smut:threesome setting:college band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pairing:Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard pov:Grant.Morrison challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:65a23a4709ec/mwestbelle: Ever Just the Same (Ever a Surprise)2013-09-20T16:20:12+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/949355
turloughQUOTE: He is as deep in the woods as he dares go, scanning the speckled forest floor for mushrooms, when he gets a glimpse of pale flesh instead. It's just a flash, fast enough to make him think that he must have imagined it; he can't think of anyone from the village who would be out in the woods this close to dusk. And even if they were, they would be covered, wearing thick cloaks, gloves, scarves, all the charms they could muster. It was too late in the year, too much of a bite in the air to be exposing more skin than necessary.
But he keeps his eyes open, and he sees it again, slipping behind a tree. Gerard comes closer, trying to be steady and nonthreatening as the underbrush cracks below his feet, and so slowly comes around the side of the tree.
And gods, it's a *child*, a pale boy with dark hair wearing nothing but a pair of ripped and ragged trousers that barely reach midcalf, obviously long outgrown. There seem to be some strange dark marks on his torso - bruises? - and he is entirely uncharmed; Gerard can't feel any humming on him. He reaches for the chain around his own neck; in his haste, he fumbles the clasp and tugs the whole thing over his head, pulling the smooth wooden charm out from under his shirt. It's still warm from his skin, and the chain is easily large enough to put it closed over the boy's head. It isn't much, but at least it's something, to keep the boy safe until they make it back to the village.
As the charm hits the boy's chest, he visibly stiffens, and tips his head back against the tree to look up at Gerard. His eyes are black, all the way through.
He's confused, for a moment; the boy steps away from the tree and faces him. Then he changes. Gerard isn't quite able to comprehend it, though it happens before his very eyes. The boy is *growing*, shifting and changing, and what Gerard once took for bruises prove to be black symbols in his skin that spread and shift as he grows, curling over his arms and even up on the side of his throat.
He's not merely growing taller, but older, his frame filling out, his features becoming more defined, until he stands before Gerard, of a height with him and, to all appearances, of an age. Gerard's protection charm hangs around his neck, and the boy, now a man, carefully picks it up, holding it up to inspect it before he flicks his black gaze back to Gerard.
The man reaches out to him, curves his hand around Gerard's cheek. His skin is a little cool, like the chilled bite in your cheeks from being out in the wind for too long. "I won't forget this," he says. And then he turns, giving Gerard a glimpse of inky black wings that seem painted on his back, each individual feather impossibly clear. But only for a moment, for with each step he takes, he fades until he is gone. As though no one was ever there at all.
But Gerard's shirt is still rumpled from when he reached inside, and it's amazing how keenly the absence of even such a small thing can be felt. He rubs his hand against his chest and rearranges his cloak around himself. It isn't his first encounter with something dark and unnatural in the woods, but by far the strangest. And the first that hasn't shied away from him, as heavily charmed as he is. (20,860 words)]]>author:mwestbelle fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fairytale activity:kidnapping beings:faeries concept:ordinary.lives concept:magic occupation:wizard/witch occupation:ruler relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:handjob setting:forest/jungle setting:mansion/palace setting:other.world band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:3f5c555a6659/akamine_chan: Anchors and Stars2013-09-20T15:38:51+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/932385
turloughQUOTE: Mikey knows there's something wrong; they're brothers, after all, tied by blood and birth. Elena is suspicious, as well, but Gerard manages to avoid both of them. He spends a lot of time exploring an old shipwreck, playing tag with the eels hiding among the wooden planks, studying the artifacts he finds in the cargo holds. The objects take on new significance, new meanings, when viewed through Frank's memories.
Gerard wonders how he can miss someone so much that it *hurts*, a physical ache in his chest.
He spends some time dreaming with a passing pod of whales. They sing him songs the past and tell him of the future, and for a while, it helps remind him of how wide the world is. The whale-folk are wise and knowing, and croon to him about soul-ties and two-as-one.
Gerard doesn't feel so fortunate in having this... bond with a walker. They're from different cultures, different worlds, with nothing in common.
'You will be together,' the whales sing.
Gerard wishes he could believe it.
He *feels* Frank, a warm presence in the back of his head. It's impossible to tell if the longing that curls through his blood is his, or Frank's, and Gerard tries to ignore it for as long as he can. (4,200 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:rescue activity:transformation.animate beings:teenagers beings:mer.people concept:ordinary.lives concept:mindmeld/soulbond concept:magic relationship:UST setting:beach/lake/ocean band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard challenge:2013.Pod_Together +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:c364cd338805/akamine_chan: Wanna Hear You Sing the Praise2013-09-20T15:32:05+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/949647
turloughQUOTE: It's moon-bright, but the lantern softly illuminates the well-worn path under Frank's feet. The woods are noisy, filled with the buzzing of crickets, the hushed beat of feathered wings, and other, less innocent sounds. The wind blows, ruffling Frank's hair, playing with the hem of his cloak. He can taste the first hint of winter in the air, snow and ice. It sends a shiver down his back, and he pulls the hood of his cloak over his head.
There is a sense of menace surrounding the old oaks, elms and maples in the forest, and Frank's lantern casts strange shadows, turning branches into outstretched arms, knots and whorls into eyes and gaping maws, roots into feet. Dead leaves rattle in the breeze, swirling along the ground, startling Frank.
He chokes on a laugh, a frisson of fear tingling along his nerves. This isn't what he expected when he entered the forest. After being drawn to the woods for so long, Frank thought he would feel... welcomed. Instead, all he senses is a distinct lack of interest in his presence here.
This was a mistake. That stark realization turns his blood cold. (1,640 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU activity:transformation.animate beings:werewolves beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives concept:supernatural setting:forest/jungle band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(secondary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.Pod_Together +length:short.1k-5k posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09 !meta:rec:fichttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:25e8f45d8307/akamine_chan: Shadow of a Damaged Heart2013-09-13T22:09:30+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/952836
turloughQUOTE: He listened to the mayday twice before Mikey's words started to sink in through the numbness.
"Gee, I'm hoping when you get this, Bunny Marie will be powered down and I'll be in stasis. We hit something, I don't -" The signal faded out, and then back in with a burst of static. "-bably got too close to a patch of dark matter, took out the engines. Gonna deploy the emergency ion ramscoop -" There was a loud explosion in the background, the sound of metal tearing. "Fuck," Mikey said. "There went the aux magsail."
Mikey's voice was calm, almost bored, but Gerard knew that meant that he was trying not to panic. There was a screeching whine, interference of some sort, cutting across what Mikey was saying. "-rie can hold things together, you and Helena just need to come and find us."
There was a long pause, and if Gerard concentrated, he could hear faint beeping in the background as Bunny Marie struggled to minimize the damage. Gerard knew every system alarm a ship could make, and by the sounds of it Bunny Marie was leaking fuel and heat into cold space. She was fighting fruitlessly to dampen the vicious spin they'd picked up from the collision as well.
It was bad.
"Gonna divert power to boost our location and trajectory signal. Come and find us, big brother." Mikey swallowed audibly, and Gerard was distantly glad that Bunny Marie hadn't had the power for a vid signal. Hearing the fear in Mikey's voice was bad enough. Seeing it on Mikey's face would have killed him.
Another crackle of static, then "- love you, Gee."
The transmission ended with a hiss of white noise, and Gerard realized he was breathing fast, almost panting, teeth clenched against the scream that was trapped in his throat. *Mikey Mikey Mikey -.*
Helena's presence brushed against him, confused and scared, and Gerard consciously relaxed his hands, ignoring the little bloody half-moons dug into his palms. He didn't have time for hysteria, every moment that passed decreased the chances of finding Mikey and Bunny Marie. They had to start *now*. (16,460 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study activity:rescue activity:plane/vehicle.crash beings:animals.dogs concept:ordinary.lives concept:artificial.intelligence concept:quest things:Gerard's.platinum.hair things:memories occupation:particle.hunter occupation:mechanic relationship:brothers relationship:friendship relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:handjob setting:spaceship/spacestation setting:alien.planet band:My.Chemical.Romance challenge:2013.BBB +length:medium.10k-20k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09 concept:in.space!https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:2250f2d89c6e/turps: Beyond the Dark Horizon2013-09-13T19:16:41+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/951836
turloughQUOTE: Chest aching he looks around once again, trying to decide if he should keep searching, or give up and go back to Mikey.
"I heard you've been looking for Toro."
The man speaking has appeared from the side of a building. Dressed in a black coverall, he's got a respirator hanging around his neck, and carries a bag over one shoulder. He's talking in Earth standard, something so unusual in this sector that it takes a moment to click that Gerard can actually understand what's been said without the aid of the other person's comm chip.
"You're speaking Earth standard." It's not what Gerard intended to say, but after so long communicating via artificially perfect language, he's distracted by how the man's talking, something genuine and easy like Gerard would have heard at home back on Earth. "And yes. Yes I am. I need a medic."
The man approaches, whistling when he sees Gerard's leg. "Nice burn, looks like you've been tangling with the port guards. The fucker's have started using bioblasters, you're lucky that looks like a graze shot."
Fear strikes hard as Gerard suspicions are shown to be true, and he says, "I am lucky. But Mikey wasn't. He needs a medic. If you're Toro, can you come with me? Please."
The man stares at Gerard, as if assessing the truth of what he's just heard. "I'm not Toro."
"But do you know where he is?" Close to begging now, Gerard pats his pockets, trying to think what he's got left to offer. "I've got some universal credits, some clothes and shit if you want that," and the most valuable possession of all, which would be a disaster to lose, but not as much as losing Mikey. "Or you can have my bike. It's old but works well. Get me to Toro and it's yours."
"And what will you offer him?" the man asks, studying Gerard. "The clothes off your back, your boots, your sweet mouth?"
"If he wants them." Gerard replies instantly, and means every word. Whatever he needs to do to get help he'll do it. "So do you know Toro or not? If you don't I need to keep looking."
"I know him." The man walks forward and in an unexpected graceful movement climbs behind Gerard on the bike. Sitting close, he rests his chin against Gerard's shoulder. "I'm Frank. Follow my directions and I'll take you to Toro." (24,190 words)]]>author:turps fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study fic:genre:action/adventure activity:gun.fights activity:bartering activity:killing/murder activity:performing beings:aliens concept:ordinary.lives concept:family concept:music concept:dystopia concept:rebellion concept:violence condition:injury things:motorbike occupation:doctor/nurse occupation:musician occupation:rebel relationship:brothers relationship:established relationship:Waycest relationship:friendship setting:alien.planet setting:bar/club setting:clinic/hospital setting:desert smut:rimming smut:fucking band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Gerard/Mikey(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-09 recced:2013-09 concept:homelessness concept:in.space!https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:49af3a0e7f78/akamine_chan: Signals and Static (Transmissions from the Neon)2013-09-12T20:45:47+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/898636
turloughQUOTE: Slung over his shoulder is a familiar pair of boots, tied together by the laces. Ghoul can see the corrupted BLI smiley he painted on the toes. Poison drops them on the floor in front of Ghoul. "Brought you a present."
"You can't give me something that's already mine," Ghoul says, annoyed.
"Just did."
"Whatever." Ghoul wriggles, making the chair rock. "Cut me loose."
Poison steps nearer and rubs his thumb gently across the arch of Ghoul's cheek, tracing what will probably become a spectacular bruise. "There are easier ways to get my attention than tangling with Johnny J and his crew of tweakers."
Ghoul has to work hard to avoid leaning into Poison's touch; and then the words sink in. "What the fuck? I didn't - I never - fuck you, just fuck you, asshole. Get me out of here." Ghoul pulls on the ropes.
"Sure, baby. Don't drain your zapper, I got you." Poison keeps a hand on Ghoul's shoulder as he circles around. He bends to work on the rope, and his mouth hovers near Ghoul's ear. "No need to play hard to get," he murmurs, and Ghoul shivers as the words stroke along his nerves.
"Fuck you," he says weakly.
"Such a filthy mouth," Poison purrs.
The tension in the ropes slip and Ghoul stumbles to his feet, trying to shake out the numbness in his hands. "Asshole," he mumbles, glaring. The look is totally lost on Poison; he's poking around the room, pocketing things that catch his fancy. (2,700 words)]]>author:akamine_chan fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure activity:rescue beings:draculoids concept:ordinary.lives concept:dystopia concept:rebellion condition:injury occupation:rebel relationship:UST setting:desert band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Fun.Ghoul/Party.Poison(primary) pov:Fun.Ghoul challenge:2013.Pod_Together +length:short.1k-5k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09 universe:Danger.Dayshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:9be677dceed6/anoceanmonster: Shadows Fall Behind2013-09-07T21:04:27+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/939094
turloughQUOTE: Frank doesn't realise how late it is until his eyes start to strain in the warm glow of his desk lamp, tired and sore. He rubs at them with one hand and sets his book down with the other, now almost half way devoured. He picks at the plate of leftovers Mrs. Meredith had brought him some hours ago, flicking bread crumbs and strips of ham before leaning back in his chair and sighing heavily.
"Is there something I can get for you, Sir?"
Frank jumps and turns, twisting his neck around until it hurts. In the doorway, Gerard is peering in curiously, eyeing the endless shelves crammed with hundreds of books. He looks back to Frank and smiles, waiting for his reply.
"No, thank you," Frank says, standing to collect a few stray books before crossing to the other side of the study. He lays them down on an opposite table and scans the shelves in front for empty spaces. When he hears Gerard collecting his plate and cup from the desk, he turns quickly. "You don't have to do that," he says rather quickly, and the urgency in his voice makes Gerard freeze as though he's just done something terribly wrong. "I mean, I can take it. You must have been on your way to bed when you stopped here. It's late."
Gerard nods. "I'm aware of the time, Sir." He straightens to produce a small pocket watch from the inside of his long, slick jacket. "It's almost midnight. I was on my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, so really, Sir, it's no trouble."
Frank finds himself smiling fondly. "Donald used to say that a lot. It's no trouble."
Pressing his lips together in an unreadable expression, Gerard continues to gather up Frank's leftovers. "Yes, Sir, he did."
There's a long pause that quickly starts to make Frank feel uncomfortable. Gerard's face is still unreadable and he shows no signs of leaving except for the clutched dinnerware.
"You must miss him," Frank finds himself saying before he can stop himself. Gerard blinks, head snapping back a little as though the statement has startled him. For a moment, Frank regrets it, mentally scolding himself with his father's voice as it echoes about his head with lectures of inappropriateness. Then, Gerard's eyes soften.
"Every day," he pauses to check the desk for anymore items to take and, when he finds none, turns to nod at Frank. "Goodnight, Sir."
As Gerard gets to the doorway, Frank adds, "It's Frank."
Gerard stops and smiles, now with a lot less solemn and more amusement. "It's still going to take some convincing, Sir." (39,000 words)]]>author:anoceanmonster fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study beings:animals.dogs concept:ordinary.lives concept:char.death.minor(past) concept:char.death.minor concept:literature concept:family condition:illness occupation:butler relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:frottage smut:fucking smut:handjob setting:mansion/palace setting:funeral period:19th.century band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:89af357ad07c/fleurdeliser & ohnoktcsk & tuesdaysgone: Got Lost Into the Sea2013-09-07T20:49:06+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/941961
turloughQUOTE: He spots Gerard's hair first. It's an orangey-red color that makes Grant smile. He's wearing a ratty Hawaiian shirt and miniscule cutoffs and leaning back against their jeep, and Frank is there beside him as he always is. Grant adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. The rest of his luggage will be unloaded in a few minutes, but for now he catches Gerard's attention with a wave.
Gerard's face lights up, and he calls, "Grant!" Grant grins back. Fuck, he'd come here just to see the two of them, never mind anything else.
"Hi Grant," Frank says when Grant gets near. They both pull him into a hug and then Frank takes Grant's bag and puts it in the car. "Let's see how long it takes George to unload the plane this time."
"No bets. He always saves my gear for last."
"Because you bring more books than clothes," Gerard says, then bites his lip. "I mean -"
"Have you made the charters clothing-optional and not informed me?" Grant teases. Gerard is adorable. Always has been.
"Shaun keeps vetoing my proposals," Frank tells him, mock-serious. "I think it would drive up sales, but he just won't listen."
"More fool him," Grant says with a grin and leans against the jeep next to Gerard. "Fuck, I missed this place."
"It's not the same without you," Gerard tells him.
Grant laughs. "Quieter, perhaps? I can't imagine you get many clients leading you on the kind of mad treasure hunts you let me subject you to."
"Well, sometimes people want to see sunken ships and stuff. So we show them everything we visited with you," Frank says.
"I see. Is there a Morrison tour? Should I be getting some sort of royalties?"
"Oh, I got your royalties," Frank snarks, then focuses on the middle distance. "I see your luggage. Be right back."
Grant chuckles, and Gerard knocks their shoulders together as they watch Frank liberate Grant's bags. "We definitely get more people out here because of your books," Gerard tells him quietly.
"Really?" he asks.
Gerard nods. "Just a couple of weeks ago we had a group of spring break kids. One of them read the acknowledgements."
Grant can't help but be delighted. "You deserve it."
"I don't know. We sort of like not being busy."
Grant gapes at him. "That is a fucking lie, Gerard Way."
"Yeah, yeah." Gerard shrugs, grinning adorably. "But more time for... other things, you know?" His eyes flick back to Frank.
Grant laughs. "The two of you."
"The two of us what?" Frank asks when he walks up with Grant's luggage.
"I'm waiting to find out," Gerard says, twirling the jeep keys around a finger.
"Christ, fine. The two of you are fucking perfect for each other," Grant laughs. "But I think you're already very aware of that fact, aren't you?"
Frank grins. "We are. And we are very aware of how lucky we are." He leans in and kisses Gerard quickly and Grant just has to smile.
"You're not grilling me on my charts yet, I'm devastated," Grant continues. (27,670 words)]]>author:fleurdeliser author:tuesdaysgone author:ohnoktcsk fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:genre:AU activity:diving beings:ghosts beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:supernatural occupation:small.business.owner occupation:writer relationship:established relationship:UST relationship:poly smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking smut:threesome setting:beach/lake/ocean geography:Caribbean band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pairing:Frank/Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Frank pov:Gerard pov:Grant.Morrison challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09 things:short.shortshttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:443d2d6cd864/jezrana: Lead Me Home2013-09-07T20:36:53+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/942870
turloughQUOTE: Grant rings, and after a few moments Sarah appears in the doorway. "Please bring a tray up for our guest," Grant instructs. "Tea and toast, and perhaps some porridge?" He glances at Gerard, who nods. "And something for me, assuming you don't mind me joining you, Gerard."
Gerard smiles again. He has a lovely smile, and Grant wants to see it as often as possible. "Not at all."
When the trays come, Gerard sets into his with a good appetite, and Grant waits for him to pursue conversation or not, as he chooses. After a few minutes Gerard slows down, takes a sip of tea, and speaks.
"You've been so kind to me I feel as though we're friends already, and then I remember how little I know about you," he says. "I may not be able to help not knowing anything about myself, but at least I can learn more about you - would you tell me about yourself?"
"I don't make for a very fascinating subject, I'm afraid," Grant tells him. "I inherited this estate from my father. I have a sister, who lives with her husband a short distance away, but I live alone."
"And what do you do when you're not bringing strangers in from the moors and nursing them back to health?" Gerard asks.
"I look after the estate. I write - mostly idle musings, some poetry. I visit my sister or friends when I fear I'm becoming too much of a hermit and travel when I need a change of scenery." Grant gives a self-deprecating smile. "As I said, not terribly fascinating."
Gerard finishes off the last of his toast, wipes his mouth, and gives Grant a speculative look. "If we were characters in a novel, you'd have some terrible secret that I'd be bound to discover now," he says, a teasing note in his voice.
"Given the way you appeared out of nowhere under quite dramatic circumstances, I'm not so certain we're not characters in a novel," Grant replies. "But I've no terrible secrets to be discovered."
Gerard looks down with a faint, crooked smile. "Well, I suppose I provide all the drama we need." He looks back up, eyes searching Grant's face. "You really have no idea where I came from? There's nothing I said or did that gave any clue?"
Grant shakes his head. "Only things that seem far too general to be useful. I know by your accent that you're English. The clothes you were wearing were of good quality, and from our conversation so far you seem well-educated. We checked your clothing for things that might help identify you - a watch, a handkerchief, anything, but there was nothing."
Gerard sighs. "'Nothing' seems to be the theme here." He sits back in his chair, leaning his head against the cushion. "I lay awake for hours last night trying to remember something, anything."
"Give yourself time," Grant advises him.
"It seems I can't do anything else, can I?" Gerard replies, a sharp note in his voice, and then he sighs again. "I'm sorry."
Grant looks at him calmly. "You don't have to apologize to me, Gerard. If you need to be angry, be angry."
"I don't want to be angry," Gerard says tiredly. "To tell the truth, I'm struggling not to be terrified. Knowing that something bad happened to me, and still not being able to recall what - I just keep turning it over and over in my mind. And you've been so kind, but you're still a stranger, more or less, and right now I'm completely dependent on your kindness. It's... unsettling."
Grant leans across the distance between them, laying his hand gently on Gerard's forearm. "I made you a promise before," he says softly. "I'll make it again now. As long as you're a guest in my house, I will do everything in my power to make sure you're safe from harm. That includes giving you my hospitality for as long as you need it. You're right that we're still strangers, but I hope I can show myself to be worthy of your trust."
Gerard looks at Grant solemnly while he speaks, then drops his gaze with a faint smile. "I hope so as well," he says softly. "I should very much like for there to be something I can trust."
Grant smiles at him, pressing Gerard's arm gently before drawing back. Gerard lets out a sigh, tilting his head back again.
"I'm sorry, it's been very good talking with you," he says, "but I am a bit tired." (33,660 words)]]>author:jezrana fandom:Bandom fandom:Comics.RPS fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU activity:kidnapping activity:rescue beings:aristocrats beings:Grant.Morrison concept:ordinary.lives concept:polyamory condition:amnesia condition:injury things:memories relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking smut:threesome setting:mansion/palace geography:UK:Scotland period:19th.century band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pairing:Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pairing:Frank/Gerard/Grant.Morrison(primary) pov:Grant.Morrison pov:Gerard pov:Frank challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-08 recced:2013-09 relationship:polyhttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:9c20ceadd9ff/anonymous: Late Bloomer2013-08-28T17:58:17+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/502062
turloughQUOTE: "You wanna read it?" Frank asks Mikey, holding out the comic; Gerard leaves them to it, running an absent hand through his hair - so what if he has to wipe it on his jeans after - and pulling out his markers to add some color to the werewolf wedding drawing. The concept is kind of growing on him; he changes a couple of lines, adding emphasis to others, to turn the priest into a slayer with a silver cross extended as the guests cower back from the monster breaking out of the groom's suit.
There's a sequence forming in his head, the full moon rising over the window sill, the priest tugging the terrified bride behind him as he lifts a shotgun from the altar - Gerard flips a page, frantically sketching out panels - the werewolf howls to the sky as the wedding guests overturn their chairs and run for the door... no, wait. Fakeout; the guests overturn their chairs so it *looks* like they're running, and then the angle cuts to the bride, who's growing fangs and fur behind the priest's oblivious back. End with the big double doors and sounds of slaughter. Maybe blood seeping underneath... Gerard finished scribbling down the outline and flips back a couple of pages, contemplating. Undead Abe versus the Werewolf Wedding Party *would* be really fucking cool to draw...
"Whoa." Frank's voice - impressed voice, some stupid part of Gerard's brain insists on noticing - is really close, and Gerard starts so badly that he almost topples off the edge of the bed. "Shit." Frank grabs his shoulder, holding him upright as Gerard blinks at him, trying to recover the power of speech. "Sorry, dude. Are those *zombies*?"
"…Yeah." Gerard closes his sketchpad and stuffs it back into his bag, pulling - *totally* smoothly - away from Frank's grip on his shoulder in the process. Mikey is making eyebrow faces at him, because he's Mikey, but Frank doesn't seem to notice anything off so Gerard ignores him.
"*Awesome*." Frank even sound like he means it; Gerard shrugs uncomfortably, opening his mouth to say something - he doesn't even know what, the awkwardness is just poking at him, sharp-edged. He's preempted, thankfully, by a loud knock on the door, and then it's all hurrying to get shoes on while his mom waits impatiently, tapping her foot. (24,850 words)]]>fandom:Bandom fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study activity:coming.out beings:teenagers concept:ordinary.lives concept:art occupation:student.high.school occupation:student.college relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:handjob setting:wedding geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Gerard challenge:2012.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2012-09 recced:2013-08 author:anonymoushttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:928a54f42355/chimneythunder: The Science of Sleep2013-08-21T18:07:55+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/883120
turloughQUOTE: As he drives home, Frank can't help but ponder the weird little dream he had. Frank's normally not one for dreaming; generally, he doesn't remember his dreams when he wakes up, so he's enjoying having one to analyse to entertain himself on the drive home.
Ominous, scary, bald guy... Frank's sure if he googles it, there'll be some psycho-analytical explanation for what it means (like he's lonely or worried about money or something like that) but he doesn't want to do that. That'd be too easy and it'd suck the fun right out of the whole thing.
He tries to think if he's seen the guy before, or even anyone vaguely like him but draws a blank. He remembers reading somewhere that dreams are just your brain processing what you've seen during the day, but Frank's not sure if he even knows anyone scary and possibly sick. It could have been the alien leader from his book except Frank already had an image in his head of what that dude looked like and it certainly wasn't the guy from his dream.
He pulls up to a red light, thinking some more. He can't shake the image from his head. He feels like he's seen the guy before, like it's someone significant. Does he even know the guy's name?
"Course," he says out loud, without meaning to.
Woah, what the fuck? Why's he answering himself?! And does he even know this guy's name? Of course he does. He just... doesn't.
Frank's incredibly confused and excited at the same time, and probably enjoying this far too much to be considered normal - it's like his subconscious has set his conscious a riddle that he knows he can solve. He'll just have to be incredibly creative about it.
A loud honking behind him brings him out of his thoughts. He jumps and floors it away from the lights.
He can't help it. He knows he's being silly and looking far too much into an admittedly pitiful dream but he doesn't care. There's a weird element of fun to this. After years of slaving away in tech support at a computer, he thought his creativity and imagination had completely dried up. He's almost looking forward to going to bed because he can't wait to see what images his brain is going to conjure up next. Maybe it'll be more to do with the creepy pale guy.
Yeah, that makes sense, he thinks. Of course it is. Course.
Wait, what the fuck does that mean? (94,540 words)(also at http://chimneythunder.dreamwidth.org/7927.html )]]>author:chimneythunder fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:action/adventure fic:genre:character.study activity:car.chase activity:detoxing activity:gun.fights activity:killing/murder activity:rescue activity:sabotage activity:time.travel beings:draculoids concept:ordinary.lives concept:apocalypse concept:brainwashing concept:char.death.minor concept:dystopia concept:medication concept:rebellion condition:injury condition:amnesia things:graffitti things:memories occupation:artist/designer occupation:exterminator occupation:office.worker occupation:rebel relationship:friendship relationship:UST setting:office setting:desert geography:myth:Battery.City band:My.Chemical.Romance band:The.Used pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2012.BBB +length:long.50k-100k !meta:rec:fic posted:2012-07 recced:2013-08 setting:café/diner/restauranthttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:1fab8dfb4afa/onceuponamoon: Companion2013-07-30T16:53:54+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/854673
turloughQUOTE: He shuffles his papers over his keyboard, scanning it for the next question, watching Gerard scoot back farther into the chair out of his periphery. "Alright, how about you tell me some qualities about yourself that you're proud of?"
Biting at his lower lip, Gerard almost... deflates. "Well," he says, shrugging a little bit. "I'm creative? And I'm pretty patient. I mean, you have to be, with art - and the elderly. Gramma's been very clear about me not rushing her anywhere for anything."
Around a sympathetic chuckle, Frank asks, "Anything else?"
"Um." Gerard shakes his head. "None that I can think of right now."
"That's okay. What about things you'd like to improve on?" Frank unfolds his hands, leans back a bit in his chair. He's already fucking antsy, jonesing for a cigarette and to get up and fucking *move around*, jesus. Desk jobs suck.
A bitter laugh starts Frank back into focus.
"A load of things. My communication skills, for one. Mikey's always saying I'm completely socially inept, which I definitely think is true -"
"Oh, please," Frank says, half-grinning as he waves a hand, "I think you're doing just fine."
Ducking his head, Gerard blushes and goes quiet.
The rest of the interview goes well, surprisingly enough. Aside from the shatteringly low self-esteem, this Gerard guy is actually really interesting. He keeps the conversation going relatively well, he doesn't use any flag-phrases, and he seems incredibly sincere about everything. Sure, he doesn't have a world (hardly any, if Frank's being real with himself) of experience, but at least he's honest. And that's all Frank's ever asked for.
Standing, Frank shakes Gerard's hand and - damned if he doesn't admit it - watches him go. This time, when he fills out the subsequent paperwork, Frank has a smile on his face as he remembers each answer. (34,290 words)]]>author:onceuponamoon fandom:Bandom fic:category:gen fic:category:slash fic:genre:AU fic:genre:character.study concept:ordinary.lives condition:illness occupation:office.worker occupation:caretaker occupation:artist/designer things:comics relationship:UST smut:blowjob smut:handjob smut:fucking setting:office setting:bar/club geography:US:New.Jersey band:My.Chemical.Romance pairing:Frank/Gerard(primary) pov:Frank challenge:2013.BBB +length:long.20k-50k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-06 recced:2013-07https://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:d21c4dd5898a/inlovewithnight: Excerpts2013-07-30T16:43:46+00:00
http://archiveofourown.org/works/896467
turloughQUOTE: M WAY: I want our Jaeger to be named R2D2.
ROCKHAM: Names are assigned by the Commission.
M WAY: And you should assign ours the name R2D2.
ROCKHAM: That will not be possible.
G WAY: Even at the end of the world, Lucasfilm's hanging on to their fuckin' intellectual property, huh?
A SILENCE OF SEVERAL MINUTES.
G WAY: Call it the Big Man.
ROCKHAM: What?
G WAY: Clarence Clemmons? The E Street Band. We're from JERSEY.
ROCKHAM: Mr. Way, that is, frankly, stupid.
M WAY: Your mom is stupid. (660 words)]]>author:inlovewithnight fandom:Bandom fandom:Pacific.Rim fic:category:gen fic:genre:AU fic:genre:fusion concept:ordinary.lives concept:war concept:esp:telepathy things:mecha occupation:mecha.pilot relationship:brothers band:My.Chemical.Romance pov:omni +length:short.-1k !meta:rec:fic posted:2013-07 recced:2013-07 fic:source:moviehttps://pinboard.in/https://pinboard.in/u:turlough/b:a51474096849/