ALL TOGETHER NOW! (V. 2) A bandom comment fic meme!

[green]

It's that time of year again!

Prompt! Write! Feedback! Anon or not. And tell other people about it, so we can have a bigger, better time.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Alicia/Mikey/Pete - their door is always open and sometimes Pete needs more than a place to rest.

[(Anonymous)]

Oh God. I've been waiting for this fic since the news of Pete's divorce hit. I know it makes me a bad person but I just don't care. WANT.

[(Anonymous)]

Pete/Mikey summer camp AU.

you KNOW you want this, come on. just think about it. for one second. there you go, i told you so!

[yekoc]

Everyone in Cabn 5 -- hell, everyone at the camp, including the director -- knows that Pete is dating Alicia, so Mikey doesn't see why he needs to flaunt it like he's been doing all week. It's not that Mikey even cares, okay, it's just that it would be nice to come back from Swimming (or in his case, refusing to get in the water) and be able to huddle in his bunk without hearing Pete make out with Alicia in the bunk above.

Mikey sticks his figures in his ears and makes what he hopes is a long-suffering noise. Then he makes it again, in case Pete didn't hear the first time. He glares at a knot in the wood of the wall and cautiously takes his fingers out of his ears. Pete and Alicia have stopped making out, which is good, but now Pete is talking to him.

"How come you're never wet after Swimming?" Pete asks, sticking his head over the edge of his bunk and looking at Mikey upside-down, carefully straightened bangs falling out of whack. He doesn't wait for Mikey to answer.

"I know you never even go in because your hair's always the same as it is in the morning. Hey, Mikey, speaking of morning, wasn't breakfast gross? Ew, I hate the eggs here. But there was bug juice, that was cool. And waffle sticks. Do you like waffle sticks? Hey, Mikey --"

"Ugh," says Mikey, eloquently, and decides to go find Gerard. From somewhere above him, he hears Alicia stifle a laugh.

___

"I can't believe they put me with him again this summer," Mikey complains, picking at Gee's Star Wars sleeping bag. "I don't see why I can't be in Cabin 3 with you."

"Too old, you know that," Gerard says absently. He should probably be somewhere else right now, like at a CIT meeting or something, but Gerard never follows the schedule. They probably won't let him be a counselor next year, and then Mikey'll be all alone. Probably he just won't come.

"Frank's almost as old as me," Mikey says. It's not fair at all. The cutoff is totally arbitrary, and he's stuck in a cabin with stupid no-fun Brian as a counselor and Pete in the bunk above him.

Gerard sighs. "Aren't you supposed to be at the athletics field right now?" he asks. Mikey doesn't say anything, and Gerard just looks at him, then lies back and stares at the cabin ceiling.

"There's a beer under my bed," he says. Gerard is the worst CIT ever, but that's okay because he's an awesome brother. "Split it?"

____

It's a little chilly out, sort of weird for July, and Mikey pulls his feet up on the rock and hugs his knees to his chest. Dinner was alright, burgers and fries, but he forgot to take his socks off when he waded out to the rock and now they're wet. Well, he remembered pretty soon after he stepped in the water but it was too late then anyway so he just kept going. He watches beads of water seep out of the socks and trickle away, and it's sort of fascinating which is why he doesn't notice someone splashing out to him until it's too late.

"Hey Mikeyway!" says Pete, getting water all over Mikey as he hoists himself onto the rock. "I didn't know you'd found my rock! Anyway, isn't it cool? I like how you can look out over the lake and hear people going by on the path but they can't see you, like you're a spy, you know?"

Mikey knows all of this, because it's not Pete's stupid rock, it's his.

"It's my rock," he mutters.

"We can share, I don't mind," Pete says, smiling like he's doing Mikey a favor. He's got eyeliner on and he looks ridiculous.

"Shouldn't you be kicking me off so there's room for Alicia?" Mikey asks, meanly. He used to like Alicia, is the worst part. He used to like Pete, too, last summer when they hung out together the whole time and had a secret club and before Alicia ruined everything.

"We broke up," says Pete. He's not smiling anymore, but he doesn't sound that upset about it.

"Oh," Mikey says awkwardly. They stare at the sun setting on the other side of the lake, and Mikey wishes he'd remembered to put on bug repellent.

"So you never want to go in the water at Swimming, but you'll walk out to the rock," says Pete. "I guess you aren't a witch after all." He sounds a little disappointed.

"What?" says Mikey.

"You know, witches float, right? Like that's how they used to know who to burn, or whatever. I thought maybe you float and you didn't want people to know you could do magic."

"I'm pretty sure if I could do magic Gerard would have bragged to everyone at camp by now," Mikey says. "He can't keep secrets at all. He tells me my Christmas present every year at Easter."

"Fucking mosquitoes," says Pete. "Should we go back in?"

"I don't like putting my face in the water," says Mikey suddenly.

"Okay," says Pete. "I'm pretty sure it only comes up to our ankles here, though."

"I mean, like, that's why in don't go in during Swimming," says Mikey. "I can do it. I know how to swim, I mean. I just don't like all the green and how you don't really know where you are."

Pete's looking at Mikey with wide eyes all circled in black, and he nods without saying that it's stupid.

"You could pretend it's the mists of time from Amazon Trail," he says, and then he blinks twice and presses his lips against Mikey's.

Oh, thinks Mikey, and he's not so mad at Alicia anymore. Pete moves his mouth away and breathes out a little and his eyes are still wide and his breath smells like burgers.

Mikey doesn't really mind, so he leans in again before Pete can say something stupid, and it feels a lot like opening his eyes underwater, but good.

They stay out long enough for the mosquitoes to launch an all-out attack. Mikey doesn't care.

[(Anonymous)]

The one where Spencer is an evil mastermind who schemed, manipulated and manoeuvred Jon and Ryan into leaving so he could bring back the "!", and have Brendon all to himself.

[(Anonymous)]

YES YES YES!!

[(Anonymous)]

A spencer/brendon slave fic would be great... anything with this. Bonus if Brendon is the slave and Spencer the Master...

[(Anonymous)]

Historical could be even better!

[(Anonymous)]

Prompts: highschool au, spencer/brendon, bullies, misunderstanding, happy ending...

[(Anonymous)]

Spencer the evil pirate (but secretly, he's not evil at all!) kidnaps Brendon \O/ (Brendon's father could be someone important or someone who wants to capture Spencer and his crew :P)

[sassbandit]

Chantal Claret/Jimmy Urine, Killjoys-verse. If Jimmy's a draculoid, what does that mean for them? Does Chantal work for BLI too?

[sassbandit]

MCR slave AU, Ray/anyone with Ray as a submissive.

[sassbandit]

Bob/Brian, macho bullshit.

[sassbandit]

Ryan/anyone else in PATD. Esprit de l'escalier.

Fill: too late but not too soon (pg)

[marina]

IDK if this really fulfills the prompt? BUT IT'S IN THAT GENERAL SPIRIT?

*

"I don't know why I never said it before," Ryan says, stirring his coffee in Brendon's kitchen, making sure the sugar gets properly dissolved and absorbed.

It's been roughly seven years since he and Jon and Brendon and Spencer had had that awkward, messy, hurried conversation in someone's living room - he doesn't even remember whose anymore - and walked away with we're done with this. We're done. Seven years of doing his own thing - writing music, leading projects, fronting his own band, doing the solo thing. He doesn't regret it - he's gotten to do what he loves for most of his life and every piece of music he's ever played has been thoroughly his.

Seven years and they're playing together again, apparently. Him and Spencer and Brendon, just something silly and fun, on the weekends, when they meet up, occasionally. It's not a big deal, though it sort of feels like it should be. Spencer and Brendon are working on a new album, though they haven't officially told anyone yet, and Ryan likes hearing their bits and pieces, Brendon's ideas that he tosses off from the piano and Ryan picks up with his guitar and plays with, plays off of, develops and tosses back to him. It's a shock to realize how good Spencer's gotten with the drums. He'd always been good but Ryan hadn't been to their live shows in years and suddenly in Brendon's home studio Spencer's a fucking virtuoso.

"Because you're an asshole, that's why," Spencer says, sipping his own coffee, leaning against the counter, giving Ryan a look that's nothing but fondness.

"Yeah, well." Ryan has to say it. Of course Spencer wouldn't ask him to. "I'm sorry. For back then."

He's not trying to fix anything - there's nothing to fix. They're all happy and OK now, with themselves, with the world, with each other. Being in your 30s is awesome like that.

They're not trying to start anything new.

Spencer smiles to himself, a tiny curve of his lips, like his own private joke about Ryan, with Ryan still in the room. "Yeah, whatever." Ha grabs the coffee he made for Brendon. "Grab the cookies."

They head back to the studio.

[sassbandit]

PATD are guest stars on the Muppet Show.

[(Anonymous)]

Brendon/Spencer, medical play. Bonus if it's sort of spontaneous rather than a planned BDSM scene... something like Brendon thinks he has a rash in a delicate area but he isn't sure and he doesn't want to have to tell Zack so he can go to a doctor in case it's nothing. Spencer finally gets tired of his whining and offers to take a look. While wearing latex gloves.

[(Anonymous)]

Ray and Gabe want to keep their relationship a secret.

[(Anonymous)]

Mikey goes to Frank for advice on how to make sure he and Alicia keep the spark.

[(Anonymous)]

"Oh my god, that is more information about your dick than I ever wanted, Mikey, holy shit." Frank says, covering his face with his hands.

"Why are you covering your eyes? I didn't show you my dick." Mikey says, affronted. He crosses his arms defensively. Frank doesn't take his hands off his face so the full effect is a little lost.

"Look," Frank says, slightly muffled. "I'm happy you feel you could come to me and, by all means, tell me all about your feelings but I'm pretty sure Alicia doesn't want you to go around telling your band mates intimate details of your guy's sex life."

Mikey shrugs.

"I'm not allowed to tell the internet, that's the only rule. She doesn't mind."

"O-kay. That doesn't change the fact you just told me all about your wife's vagina." Frank says, peering over the tops of his fingers. Mikey reaches over and punches him, hard as he can, in the arm.

"Ow! Motherfucker, what was that for?" Frank screeches.

"You can't talk about my wife's vagina." Mikey says seriously.

"You started it!" Frank shouts, flailing his arms. "I don't even know why you're asking me, you've been married way longer than I have!"

Mikey stares at Frank till he finishes flailing.

"Yeah," Mikey says, in his 'duh' voice. "But you and Jamia've been going out longer." Mikey pauses. "Oh, and you still have sex." He adds, as an afterthought.

Frank closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"From what you just told me, it sounds like you and Alicia are having no difficulties in that area." He says calmly. Mikey makes a face.

"That was before she came out on tour. She's been here days and we haven't fucked once." He says grumpily.

"Dude, you're surprised? You totally knew Lyn-Z comes out to have, like, drawing battles with Gerard. I don't think they've fucked on tour since they got married."

Mikey makes another face, although this one is less "my life is very difficult" and more "ew".

"Ew. Gee having sex." He says, his face still screwed up in disgust. Frank throws his arms in the air.

"Exactly!"

Mikey looks at him in confusion.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Frank says. "Look, it's tour. You haven't showered in, like, a week. A fucking nympho wouldn't want to fuck you."

Now Mikey looks even more confused.

"Alicia hasn't showered in a week either." He says, as if Frank's a little slow. "I don't think it's cause I smell. We met on Warped."

"You married her! Go ask her your sex questions!" Frank says and then puts his hands over his ears when Mikey starts to speak. "LALALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU? WHAT'S THAT, YOU'RE GOING TO GO TALK TO ALICIA? GOOD GOOD, ON YOU GO."

Mikey rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone.

frank no help ): He texts. Frank is still shouting loudly, mainly to himself now, about his bandmates having no shame. Mikey's phone buzzes.

): lyn isnt eithr. her face turning a funny color, says Alicia's text

hotel 2nite??? He sends back, a little hopeful.

:)))

[littlemousling]

Snapshot of Frank, with his babies and his dogs.

[(Anonymous)]

pete/gabe, pete and bronx switch bodies. gabe to the rescue.

here, i'll start us off:

+++

"At least people are so used to you being a stupid ass in public that people won't figure it out," Gabe says, looking between the two little dudes before him. Bronx is crosslegged on the floor, staring at his own toes with wide-eyed wonder. He pushes his pants up and gasps when he sees the tattoo of Gabe's face on his leg.

"Did you just call my son a stupid ass?" Pete asks incredulously. His tongue won't let him form words properly; he says jush and thun and thupid. "When I have fists bigger than lollipops I'm goin'a crush you."

"You never have fists bigger than lollipops," Gabe answers, giving Bronx his juice and picking Pete right up to tickle him under the chin.

Always last to the party...

[(Anonymous)]

Spencer/Brendon: There's not a relationship between them to start, but there *is* intentional or unintentional teasing--be it on stage, backstage, on the bus, at meet and greets, whatever-- with LOTS of sexual tension and confusion and UST and.... I'm being really vague and specific all at once, sorry. Someone, por favor?!

[(Anonymous)]

Gerard/Lyn-Z

Lyn-Z is surprised to discover that Gerard is really vanilla and hasn't done any anal play.

[(Anonymous)]

Over Panic!'s next hiatus Brendon goes on Dancing with the Stars. Spencer secretly watches obsessively/stalks fan forums/scrapbooks/blogs about it/makes vids/takes dance lessons and feels more and more creepy about it.

[(Anonymous)]

Ryan/Jon. D/s relationship, Jon's the sub.

I just want Jon to be dominated please?

[littlemousling]

Two (or more) bandom dudes of your choice talk about cute boys. Bonus if one of them is straight and is perfectly happy to talk about cute boys anyway.

[littlemousling]

Two (or more) bandom chicks of your choice talk about cute girls. Bonus if one of them is straight and is perfectly happy to talk about cute girls anyway.

[(Anonymous)]

Obstentially, Ashlee comes out to New York to work on her album.

"That's bullshit," says Victoria, stubbing out a cigarette butt viciously. Ashlee pushes her bangs off her face.

"LA kind of sucks right now," She says and then doesn't elaborate.

"Says you. You've seen our studio here right? Gabe can't lie down in it." Victoria says emphatically.

"You're exaggerating." says Ashlee. Victoria pulls another cigarette out of her purse. She gestures with it, raising her eyebrows to ask if Ashlee minds but Ash just waves her hand dismissively.

"I fucking wish," Victoria says, lighting her cigarette.

They aren't a lot of restaurants that let you smoke outside anymore but Victoria's always liked smoking in New York more than LA. It's too hot in LA to truly appreciate the fire on the end of your cancer stick.

They have a table outside, on some hipstery veranda. Victoria's slowly filling the ash tray with cigarette butts. Ashlee plays with her coffee cup, turning it round and round and round.

Vicky-T watches the harried waitress hurry back and forth between dirty tables, laden with cups and glasses and checks. She has really nice breasts.

"Look, whatever you're avoiding, I kinda super don't want to talk about it. Are you or are you not going to wingman for me when I talk to the waitress?" Victoria says, nodding across the restaurant's veranda to where the waitress is taking orders. Ashlee turns around to stare just as she glances over her shoulder at them.

"Oh my god, you're not supposed to look!" Victoria hisses, ducking down behind Ashlee. Ashlee snorts.

"Oh my god, you're ten. She's hot though." Ashlee says, shrugging. Victoria pauses and looks at Ash, surprised.

"You really think so?" Victoria asks. Ash's eyebrows fold together in a frown.

"I thought that's why you wanted to talk to her?" Ash says warily.

"Oh, fuck yeah, duh," Victoria says, relieved. Ash slips from confused into mildly insulted and amused.

"I'm straight Vicky-T, not blind." She drawls, over-exaggerating the a sound in 'blind'. Victoria chuckles, a quick laugh almost without sound.

"I suppose you are. Fuck, she does have really nice breasts though doesn't she?" Victoria can't stop admiring them. Ashlee glances over her shoulder again and then looks at her own chest, frowning.

"I don't have much to compare it to, Vicky-T." She says. Victoria waves her hand and then stops abruptly when she showers ash onto the table.

"Trust me, they're awesome breasts." She says and then takes a drag off her cigarette.

"Wait, mine or hers?" Ash asks. Victoria makes an apologetic face.

"Sorry baby, but hers."

[littlemousling]

From this photo which I choose to believe really is Ryan and Pete, despite, you know, basic logic and having eyes:

Needy Pete feels better and calmer when Ryan takes control.

[roga]

(holy shit that photo! I have never been into Ryan/Pete but uh.)

[(Anonymous)]

shmoopy knotting please! Gerard and Frank have been together for three years, when Frank asks Gerard to marry him. They are both very traditional so although they've been fucking, they are saving their first knotting for their wedding night. After a wonderful ceremony and reception (well expect for Mikey's weird toast), they go to the penthouse honeymoon suite and knot for the first time.

[(Anonymous)]

“Fuck, Frankie,” Gerard gasps.

He’s hard, panting, rubbing against Frank on the big bed in the honeymoon suite, and at this rate this will be the way they get off for the first time as a married couple. “Motherfuck, wait,” he manages, and pushes off, presses a hand to the base of his cock to try and calm himself down, and then pulls at his balls when that isn’t enough to calm him down.

“Gee,” Frank says, voice blurry. “Gee, c’mon.”

“Wait,” Gerard says, “wait, I want—we wanted to knot tonight, Frankie.” Frank’s eyes slide closed for a second and then he’s a ball of energy again, like the reception and the endless toasts haven’t really worn him out.

(Mikey gave Gerard’s favorite toast, of course. “Gerard has always been my big brother,” Mikey had said. “And now Frank is always gonna be my little brother.”)

“Yeah,” Frank says, pushing Gerard over and straddling him, “yeah, that’s what I want, Gee. Want you to fill me up.”

They’ve been fucking for what feels like forever, but this is—different. Special. Gerard knows it’s something other people don’t take as seriously, but he does. And Frank does, too. They’re iconoclasts, sure, but the casual way people talk about knotting these days makes Gerard feel counterculture acknowledging its intimacy.

Gerard wanted to save something for this, for his husband, and he smiles just thinking about it. Frank is his husband, now and forever.

(None of that means Gerard hasn’t watched the porn, of course. Taboo is hot.)

Gerard leans up to kiss Frank, strokes his back and cups his tight little ass. “Get the lube,” he says, and Frank leans back to pull it off the nightstand table, stretching out and displaying all that decorated skin.

“God, Frankie,” Gerard says, and traces the sparrows at Frank’s hips. “You look so good, baby. Looked so good on the dancefloor, I couldn’t wait to get you back here.”

“Almost jumped you in City Hall,” Frank says, growling now. “Had to wear those tight pants, huh?”

“You know it,” Gerard says, and leans up to nip at Frank’s jaw. Frank shudders, arches forward into Gerard’s touch.

Gerard can’t wait much longer, wants this so much, wants to join with Frank completely, to make them one. “Get yourself ready for me. Slick your hole up for my cock.”

It’s so familiar, Frank’s thin fingers pushing up into his own ass, Frank’s forehead crinkling and his mouth dropping open from how much he loves it, but it’s different, too, somehow new. Everything seems fresh, like Gerard’s seeing Frank for the first time. “Love you,” he murmurs, and Frank says it back, eyes locked with Gerard’s.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Gerard says, “and then I’m gonna stay in you and knot you and hold you tight.”

“All talk,” Frank says, grinning, and Gerard grins back and flips them, pulls the lube out of Frank’s hand and slicks himself up with it.

“Let’s go, then,” Gerard says, and moves back enough to let Frank turn over, ass up and wiggling. Gerard slaps it, laughing at Frank’s energy, and then he’s lining up and pushing in, one long movement.

Frank always feels amazing, but this is so much more—no condom, no need to worry about pulling out when his body and Frank’s are begging him to stay in. “So tight, Frankie.”

“Gonna be tighter soon,” Frank says. “God, want your knot in me so much, want you to—want you to breed me, Gerard.”

They’ve never talked like that before, and it’s hot, coming out of Frank’s mouth. Just because they can’t really take advantage of the biological benefits of knotting doesn’t mean they can’t get off on the idea.

“Want that, huh?” Gerard presses his lips to Frank’s ear, matches his words to his thrusts. “Want me to knock you up, Frankie? Hold my spunk in your ass and make sure you’re really bred?”

“Yeah,” Frank gasps, forehead rolling on the pillow, sweating under Gerard. “Yeah, fuck, pump me full of it, Gerard, c’mon.”

Gerard was close, and now he’s gone, passing right over the point he’s always had to pull out and pushing in, instead.

“Oh, god, Gee,” Frank says, “I can feel you, I can feel your cock stretching me.”

Gerard can feel it too, the head of his cock swelling to lock him into Frank’s ass, nerves on fire. “So good,” he gasps, “so good, so good.”

“Yes,” Frank says, “Gee, so big, holy shit.” Frank makes a tiny movement forward and they both groan, feeling Gerard’s knot pulling inside Frank’s hole. “I’m stuck on your cock,” Frank says, wonderingly.

“I’m breeding you, Frankie,” Gerard says, mouth on Frank’s ear. “Gonna—gonna knot you every day, now, gonna make sure you’re always filled up with my spunk, make sure you’re dripping with it every time you get up.”

“Jesus fuck,” Frank swears, and arches up into Gerard, grips his hand where it’s stroking Frank’s belly.

“You gonna come for me, Frankie? Gonna tense up around my knot and whine from how big it feels?” Gerard pulls their joined hands down to Frank’s cock, wraps his fist around it.

“Fuckin’ jerk me off and I will,” Frank says, but it’s more a moan than a grumble. “Fuck, so—so close.”

“I know you are, baby,” Gerard says. “You want to come now while I’m still gonna be in you a while or you wanna wait?”

“Now,” Frank says, “can’t wait, Gee. Been waiting so long already.”

“Me too,” Gerard says, and kisses Frank’s ear, strokes his cock roughly. “Come on, then. Want you to.”

Frank clenches down around Gerard’s cock and cries out, coming into Gerard’s hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, “fuck, so big, almost too much.”

“You love it,” Gerard says, and Frank nods, one-two-three.

“I do,” he says, and Gerard remembers Frank saying that this afternoon, in front of their friends and family and a civic official. “I do love it. Been thinking about this since—since forever,” Frank says, and he’s kind of choked up. Gerard curls closer to him, squeezes him tight.

“Me too, sweetheart. Wanted you to be all mine like this. Never knotted anyone, Frankie. It’s just you for me.”

“Just you for me,” Frank agrees, and they press in even tighter, content to stay locked together as long as they can.

[epershand]

Brendon/Ryan. Superman that ho.

Brendon won't stop singing Soulja Boy. Ryan decides to take the most appropriate revenge he can think of.