(no subject)

[turps]

I changed my journal header and colour today, and it's so blue. I keep looking at it and feeling cold.

The stair lift dude was here earlier and the thing is bust. The track hasn't come down at the bottom automatically for ages now. When he checked it out he said it was beyond repair, so we're getting a new stair lift installed. Hopefully they won't notice the cats like using the back of the seat as a scratching post.

Tell me flist. If you could have a story custom written for you, what would it contain? Not that I'm offering or anything, I'm just curious what people's ideal stories would be. Any fandom goes.

Comments

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

A multi-chapter epic-like tale, with adventure, humor and scorching smut. I'm always up for zaniness with heart. Mistaken identities or a large secret poorly kept are always fun. I dig crossovers [particularly ones that should be ridiculous but are written in a plausible way] and threesomes and happy endings.

Fandom-wise...well, I'd really like to see long MCR fic, maybe something Bob-centric. Because I'm slightly obsessed. Though...it would be awesome to read a huge piece about Mikey being a hero too.

I also wonder why, with all the crack that's written in bandom, there's not more werewolf fic.

[turps33.livejournal.com]

A multi-chapter epic-like tale, with adventure, humor and scorching smut

That sounds amazing! I especially like the adventure element. There's not enough adventure stories in the world.

Your fandom choice. Just, gah! BOB! And Mikey being a hero! Now I want that too. I'm so impressed with people who can write epic length fic. It's such an amazing thing.

There should be more werewolf fic. If MCR could be werewolves it would fit nicely with the FOB vampire thing.

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

There's not enough adventure stories in the world.

My feeling's exactly.
And yeah, I wish I could maintain character enough to write an epic.


Re: werewolf fic...

*clears throat*

Umm... here. *runs away*

~~~~
He’s been around long enough, playing with enough bands, done sound for countless more that Bob’s resigned himself to a packless existence.

Then he meets My Chemical Romance.

*****************

Bob is beginning to wonder if he has a sign that says ‘tackle me’ pinned to his back.

Then he untangles himself, looks into Frank Iero’s eyes and sees a familiar spark there. It vanishes too quickly for him to comment on it. But he knows this indicator now – Frank is like him. He waits for the acknowledgement, the whispered ‘you’re like me’, but the words never come. It takes him most of the tour to realize that Frank isn’t being overly cautious – Frank has no idea. Frank, with his hyperactivity and downright pornographic stage presence, thinks he’s normal. Alright, maybe not that. But yeah... Frank thinks he’s human.

The realization knocks the wind right out of him, leaves Bob shaky for most of the performance, so much so that he misses balancing out the guitars at sound check and Bert flies into a hissy fit worthy of a Broadway diva.

Afterward, he finds a quiet corner and bangs his head against the wall.

[turps33.livejournal.com]

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god, YES! That!

Bob. Packless. That's just tragic.

Then he untangles himself, looks into Frank Iero’s eyes and sees a familiar spark there.

I was so happy here, then no! He's still alone, and frustrated and gah! This is so good. Bob werewolf!

Just the idea gives me glee.

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

It's only briefly tragic. Really.

Here, have some Frank too. It ain't easy, being a vegetarian werewolf.

[This is later, of course. and is also likely crap...but *hands*]

~~~~~

Frank knew something has changed when the dreams started up again. The first time he’d leapt up from sleep, a scream caught behind his teeth, cold sweat flattening his hair and drawing a cold line down his back, he’d barely been able to rein in the hysteria. He’s worked so hard to push the dreams back to shadows – he’d first tried appeasement, drawing images on his skin in blood and ink, hoping that the pain and bloodshed would be enough of a sacrifice. That worked for a time- the nightmares slumbered, except for full moon nights but then… well, three nights of insomnia wasn’t much of a hardship. Sure, the wail of his dreams voices crackled in him, but he could burn off the wildness they called up on the stage. The band helped; in more ways than providing an outlet, a means to lance the turmoil bubbling under his skin.


Then he met Bob, and that was when Frank felt the last piece of the puzzle slide into place. Bob had just looked at him, and they’d understood each other. When Bob joined the band full-time, Frankie’s dreams finally quieted, sliding into their proper place in the shadows. His family was solid around him and he was playing music… it was perfect.

Then... and then Mikey went away, more quiet than he’d ever been, something panicked skittering behind his eyes. Then he came back. And the Mikey Way who returned was…different. Which turned out to be a good thing, because not even two nights in the tour after Mikey’s return, the dreams returned. Frankie sat breathing, sweat matting his eyelashes. The taste of blood was thick on his tongue and he. was. HUNGRY.

He'd huddled in the blankets, shivering against the force of the bloodthirsty spirits howling for flesh in him. Unable to keep to stillness, he stumbled out of his bunk and headed to the tiny kitchen, to make himself a huge fake meat sandwich. It took far longer than usual – his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Frank stood against the counter, not bothering with a plate, just leaning over the counter and devouring the sandwich in huge jaw-clicking bites. The yowling inside him wasn’t appeased. He sagged against the counter, taking deep gulps of air, trying to quiet his internal voices.

“You should just eat the hamburger Ray brought. It can be replaced.”
Frank flinched away from the quiet voice.
“Wha…” he managed, before meeting Mikey’s eyes.

All evasions died on his lips as he stared at Mikey.
“I don’t know how you’ve survived so long, denying yourself. No wonder you’re sick all the time.” The bassist said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank hissed.
Mikey shook his head, smiling. “I don’t know how I missed it before.” When he met Frank’s eyes this time the weight of his gaze calling up shivering. “Frank, you are killing yourself trying to repress your wolf.”

Frank took a deep breath and willed his hands to stop shaking.
“Mikey, what the fuck are you talking about?” He repeated.
Mikey watched him for a moment, a frown wrinkling his forehead. Then he leaned back, vinyl creaking under him, and started talking.

~~~~
[eek! I can't believe I posted this!]

[turps33.livejournal.com]

Dude, this is not crap in the slightest!

I was reading and was all !!!!!!

Your imagery, your word choice, the way you describe things.

drawing images on his skin in blood and ink, hoping that the pain and bloodshed would be enough of a sacrifice. Just, whoa!

I felt so bad for Frank, being a vegetarian werewolf would suck so bad. He must be so stressed out and scared. Then Mikey. Oh my goodness. Mikey

Help him Mikey! He needs you!

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

Dude, I'm glad you like it. Whew!

I tend to over-edit [which is why it takes me forever to write stuff], so releasing something into the wilds with little checking brings out the not-good brand of flail. So thank you, like a billion times for the feedback and the !!!!.

I'm pretty fascinated by the amount of stress Frank would put on himself if he *didn't* know what was going on, and how he'd try to compensate. Poor little crackmonkey. *pets*

And of course Mikey will help! He's in the know! He'll save the day! [And draft Bob to help.]

[turloughishere.livejournal.com]

This isn't crap AT ALL!!! IT'S FABULOUS!! *bounces with exitement* You must write more! Please, please, please!! *tries the puppy dog eyes*

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

Wow, thank you! I'm so psyched that you like the idea that much. *beams*

Oh no! Puppy dog eyes! That's sort of impossible to resist.
:)

I do have some ideas floating around -Bob stuff mostly, with FOB cameos- but admit I'm a little stuck with the idea. If you happen to have a prompt lying around that you could spare... *is hopeful*

[turloughishere.livejournal.com]

I wish I had! But I'm in the middle of moving to another city so my mind is only full of things like "have I called the phone company?" and "how on earth have I managed to amass such an enormous amount of JUNK?" :-)

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

Oh honey, you have my complete sympathies. I've been in your shoes before - I wish you bushels of luck in your Grand Adventure's success!

[turloughishere.livejournal.com]

Thank you!! I haven't moved in 16 years so I need all the good luck I can find :-) Also, you seem like a really cool person so I'm friending you.

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

I'd put a bug in Ganesha's ear on your behalf then. :)

*grins* the feeling - and the friending - is mutual. :D

[ephemera.livejournal.com]

eeeee!!! Werewolf MCR! This is an idea of brilliance, and your little snippets make it taste so good! Fabulousness!

[crowgirl13.livejournal.com]

I tell you, nothing warms the soul like a heartfelt eeee! :D Thank you! It's good to know that there's so much interest in this idea; I think I'm definitely going to see what else I can unearth.

[Oh and I dig your icon.:)]