I sure do like pumpkins, Cotton.

[mimesere]

have been annoyingly emo the past couple days. In an effort to overcome, I changed my LJ layout ("electioneering" from over at thefulcrum), added new icons, changed my default icon, and wrote more bob/patrick fic that probably won't get finished, 'cause it's pretty terrible.

the keywords for this icon are "cobra commander" because it makes me laugh. Oh Gabe Saporta, how so awesome?


"Hey, emo kid," says Patrick; when Bob opens his eyes, he's right *there*, and they haven't been this close since the summer. Patrick's maybe thinking the same thing, 'cause he smiles a little and tugs on Bob's hair again. "Cheer the fuck up and *come on*."

"Are you giving me shit about my *hair*?" asks Bob.

Patrick rolls his eyes and nudges up the brim of his hat. "I give everyone shit about their hair. Have you seen my band? Those follically-blessed assholes can eat me."

Gerard is wheezing next to them, flapping the hand with the cigarette like he's trying to use sign language or something. Bob can't make out what he's saying through the giggles, so he flips him off in the understanding that a solid fuck you is always an appropriate response. Patrick echoes him and follows it up with, "I hope all your hair falls out, you chemical dye abusing mother fucker."

This just sets Gerard off more and Bob decides to do something to get him back later. Frank's a fucking traitor and can't be trusted not to go tell Gerard, so he's out as conspirator, Ray's no good at it, and Mikey will come up with something brilliant but totally undoable, so he's out, too. "Hey," Bob says, "who's your band's evil genius?" And okay, maybe he should clarify it a little more, but Patrick speaks Bob pretty well and--

"Andy," says Patrick, no hesitation at all. "He's good for the stuff that's not permanent or naked."


ooh ooh, also, I have an action figure of Justice Lord Shayera, which means that my Justice Lord collection is complete. Including Never Really Existed Justice Lord Flash.

Comments

[fox1013.livejournal.com]

*tackles you*

Sheila, I missssssss you.

I am being all weird with the phone, but it is SO NOT SUPER never talking to you. I miss you lots and love you EVEN MORE, okay?

*cling*

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

*clings back pathetically* I miss you like I would my *torso*.

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

Bob/Patrick FTW in perpetuity!

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

It's SO TRUE. There should just be *more* of them. Because okay, yeah, neither of them is the crazy out there one, but you know they kind of sat around the apartment all summer being all dude-like and pranking everyone around them and sitting around happily watching infomercials and making stuff up and daring each other to eat or drink really amazingly gross things just because no one was around to stop them and it's three in the morning and some things just sound awesome then.

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

Yessss.... Why isn't there more apartment fic? Wherein they're just merrily going along, totally having lots of sex and being awesome and no one in their respective bands even realizes until some point later where it's all obvious they are/have been together?

I love Bob/Patrick LIKE BURNING.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

And it's totally not like they're hiding it or anything, but Gerard is shocked -- SHOCKED -- when he walks in and sees them making out on the couch, all tangled up in each other and lazy because...it's Patrick! and Bob! and they're...they're Patrick and Bob! And Gerard isn't entirely sure what to do with that.

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

nnngh. Yes. Patrick is sprawled out on top of Bob and Bob's hands are all up under his shirt. They're just shifting against each other and Gerard stops dead in the doorway. Like his brain totally froze and is blinking 'does not compute.'

Ray and Frank totally run into his back.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

Gerard can see part of Patrick's back, where his shirt is riding up 'cause of how Bob's hands are under there, and it looks vaguely obscene, maybe more so than even Matt's graphic porn because it's Patrick's *back* and Patrick is one of those guys who just doesn't strip down quite as easily as everyone else.

"What the fuck," says Frank, shoving Gerard further in, and Gerard has maybe a second to think about clapping his hand over Frank's mouth, but it's too late and Patrick sits up, straddling Bob.

"Oh hey," he says, like it's nothing. "You guys need Bob?"

Gerard lifts a hand and waves, sort of, pretending he's totally used to walking in on his drummer making out with the lead singer of another band.

"It can wait," says Ray. "Uh, if you guys aren't busy later, we're gonna be--" and he trails off, makes some kind of complicated gesture that apparently means something to Patrick because Patrick's nodding and smiling and his hand is in Bob's hair and Bob's mouth is kind of. Oh.

"Sure," says Patrick. "Sounds good." Bob does something then, Gerard thinks, because Patrick's eyes flutter closed and he bites his lip and he's *gone*, just totally gone, and Ray's tugging on the collar of Gerard's shirt and pulling them back and out.

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

aaaaaahahahahah.

So they're back in the studio without Bob and Gerard is all, "Did we know about Bob and Patrick?"

And Ray is all, "They're living together, Gee."

"Because something happened with Patrick's apartment assignment!"

Frank is shaking his head like Gerard is brain damaged, "Patrick is a rock star, like he can't afford his own apartment for a couple months?"

Gerard is all pouty. He wonders if Pete knows.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

He totally bets Pete doesn't know and he needs to share his not-knowing miffedness with someone else wants to make sure that Pete knows where his singer is. It's important! For, uh, band solidarity purposes. So he tells Mikey to tell Pete and feels about 14 years old the whole time and Pete tells Mikey to tell Gerard that he's a big girl, one, and two that if Patrick's hitting it with Gerard's hot drummer, Pete wants pictures and Gerard needs to make that happen okay, Patrick looks really good in charcoal, it's just a suggestion, no pressure.

Gerard kind of hates Pete.

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

He kind of hates him, but also can't deny that his fingers are sort of itching to draw. They're both just so... guh. With the mouths and bone structure and pale, pale skin...

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

One day -- the day after Pete tells Mikey to tell Gerard to draw pornographic pictures of Bob and Patrick -- Bob sits down next to Gerard in the studio while they watch Ray record his parts for the album and says, "If this is weird--"

And Gerard slaps his hand down on the paper he's doodling all over, covering the rough sketch and says, a little too loudly, "No! No. It's not--"

"Because you're being kind of weird and I don't want things to be, you know."

"Weird," Mikey says helpfully from behind Gerard.

Bob nods. "So it's fine if it's weird, I just want to know because Patrick was kind of--"

"I'm fine with you and Patrick fucking!" Gerard blurts out.

"Okay, cool," Bob says, sounding pretty much the same as always, like Gerard's not *totally freaking out*. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up in this little smile and suddenly Bob -- solid, awesome, unassuming Bob -- is all smirky and and and *flirty* what the fuck. "Nice drawing."

[carleton97.livejournal.com]

Fuck.

Gerard wishes he had more coping mechanisms than flushing, banging his head on the table, and hating fucking Pete Wentz.

It's not just getting caught drawing that - though that's bad enough - it's knowing he's actually not handling this well and having no idea why.

It's not that he has a problem with Bob or Patrick. Or even BobandPatrick. And he's pretty sure he's not harboring a secret passion for either, so he's acting like a douche for no good reason.

He crumples the drawing up before Mikey can complete his not-at-all-stealthy grab for it and shoves it in his pocket. It's bad enough Bob - and probably Patrick soon enough - knows he drew it. He really doesn't want to be known as that kind of skeezy friend.

Even if it was going to be a pretty awesome drawing.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he opens it without checking the caller ID, "Hello?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Pete?"

"You told Bob? Patrick is on a fucking rampage over here. Blaming me!"

"No, I didn't say anything to Bob. And it was your idea."

"Fuck off, Way. This is war now."

[3jane.livejournal.com]

*so* much love.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

*curls up with you*

[weird-one.livejournal.com]

hahaha! also, *glee!* I love me some Bob/Patrick.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

They are so awesomely awesome in every respect. I just think of the utterly surreal conversations they must have had sometimes where no one would be able to tell if Bob and Patrick were fucking with them or not because Bob would just smile and maybe play a little dumb and Patrick always sounds like he's being sarcastic anyway so no one really knows if they actually bought 100 knives for $100 or if that show they were talking about on public access where the dudes reviewed porn and sometimes had Gwar on was real or not. NO ONE KNOWS. except Bob and Patrick and they're not telling.

[forensicgirl.livejournal.com]

*giggle* That icon is amusing. I agree.

Ooo...I like this new thing called bandfic. Is there more? It makes me happy.

[mimesere.livejournal.com]

There is quite a lot of bandfic out there. The only one I can claim with any kind of certainty is one in which Patrick Stump doesn't get a tattoo or have an orgy. Really, he doesn't. (http://mimesere.livejournal.com/685483.html)