oh! i'm ready for it! come on, bring it!

fic!

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 20:05:24 GMT

find what you need
lady_deathangel ~*~ 5,395 words ~*~ NC-17 ~*~ strong sexual content, language, adult themes ~*~ Panic GSF

|| Woo! Written for seanarenay's Bottom!Jon Meme. It's my first full-length GSF ever so of course I had to celebrate by sharing! Hope you like it. :D ||

It was different with Tom and Mike.

Signals and Standstills (Brendon/Pete, R)

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 16:25:38 GMT

New fictions, dudes --

Signals and Standstills
by Charli J
Brendon/Pete, Ryan. R. 4,700 words.
Brendon and Pete have a Thing.

( Signals and Standstills )

Fic: Joe College. Pete/Joe. NC-17.

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 22:35:18 GMT

Title: Joe College
Author: eleanor_lavish
Pairing: Pete/Joe; ~6000 words
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Future!fic, so a disclaimer is unnecessary, yes? Clearly I am not clairvoyant. Thanks to clumsygyrl for running this awesome bandslash_usa challenge; to stonedtodeath, o4fuxache, and lovelypoet, all of whom let me babble about this thing incessantly; and to schuyler for being by bestest beta, once again. This was so self-indulgent, I can't even express. Thanks for putting up with me.
Summary: "Doesn't anyone think it's bizarre that you're a twenty-six year old freshman?" Pete bites out, arms crossed in front of him.

"Doesn't anyone think its bizarre that you're thirty-one and still spending your free time designing hoodies with thumb holes?" he replies with a shrug and Pete stomps into the bedroom and slams the door.

Joe College

FIC: Rose Is a Four-Letter Word (Brendon/Ryan, others)

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 17:26:38 GMT

Title: Rose Is a Four-Letter Word
Author: jzbell
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan (Ryan/Brent, Ryan/Spencer, Ryan/Pete, Ryan/Jon, Ryan/Jon/Spencer, Jon/Spencer)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ryan's allergic to roses. Well, maybe "allergic" is the wrong word for it.
Disclaimer: This is not true; I'm not implying that it is. For entertainment purposes only. Not intended for individual resale. Et cetera.
Notes: For disarm_d's sex pollen pornomeme. I figured someone had to take the opportunity to write slutty!Ryan. Title via Googlism. ♥s to acroamatica, once again, for the beta (and the superhuman turnaround time).

( 'Dude, Ryan attacked me.' )

fic

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 23:47:28 GMT

i am lazarus, come from the dead
(~24,500 words, split into six parts) // (multiband fic: MCR, PATD, FOB) // (Pete/Ryan/Spencer, Brendon/Jon, various others) // (R)

(It’s hard being Ryan Ross. He turns into Alice in Wonderland at night, and then his bass player fucks off, and then him and ten other dudes plus a flytrap decide to kidnap the Red Queen and the Queen of Hearts to save the world. The Wonderland!AU that ended up grounded in reality.)

Link is to part one, each part links to the next.

{When Ryan Ross is fifteen years old, he loses his mind.}

Try This Trick And Spin It (FOB/MCR/ETC, NC-17)

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 17:57:16 GMT

Hey, so, ficbyzee and I posted some fictional-type shenanigans yesterday ---

Try This Trick And Spin It
by Charli J (gigantic) and Zee (ficbyzee)
NC-17. AU. 25,000 words.
Pete/Patrick, Bob/Frank, Ryan/Brendon, Patrick/Frank, Pete/Ryan, and more.
Philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.

Note: Despite the misleading word length, this is more like a detailed summary of a universe Zee and I developed throughout last summer. A story about a story. If I remember correctly, Zee had a Fight Club-related idea for a Pete/Patrick story, and then one day Ryan Ross got a tattoo. Somehow, those two things spun off into a universe that's generally become its own thing and has since only been told orally on a bus to Maine and via email. Since we kind of fail at both oral storytelling and responding to email, third time, charm time has us posting to the Internets.

This story contains content some readers may find disturbing. Title from The Pixies' "Where Is My Mind?" and tagline from Marx as quoted by the Praxis entry on Wikipedia.

( Try This Trick And Spin It )

[FIC] [various] and tomorrow we will be

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 17:24:41 GMT

and tomorrow we will be
(25,000 words in five parts, completed) // (Brendon/Ryan, Patrick/Greta/Pete, Jon/Spencer, various others) // (PG) // (for wayfairing, with hearts and flowers)

(Jon and Spencer own a flower shop in a small town, and when the town’s pastor dies, Brendon comes to live with them and take over the job. Summerville’s full of people in love, and Brendon’s not immune to the town’s charms himself – when they’re in the form of a certain Sunday school teacher.)

As per usual, I had a little help. march 10 07 was a good day. Thanks, we_are_cities.

{"Hey, hey, you know all that crap about ‘meanings of flowers’?” Nick asks, reaching out a finger to poke one of its needles. “The meaning of giving someone a cactus should be ‘stop being a dick and take out the trash sometimes’. Or ‘I let you watch American Idol, for God’s sake, stop bitching when I want to watch Heroes’."}

Whether It’s Wednesday Or A Saturday Night

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 18:17:08 GMT

Whether It’s Wednesday Or A Saturday Night by skoosiepants
PG-13 | 14,000+ | Teen Witch AU
Ryan/Mike Kennerty, Spencer/Jon, Gabe, Brendon, Pete, Gerard, Gaylor

“Christ, Gramps, tell me that’s authentic tweed.”

Ryan tries to squirm away, says, “Hey, don’t—”

“Chill, Ross, it’s a total fucking compliment. You’re like this weirdo, bohemian—oh, your scarf.” Gaylor leans even further into Ryan’s space, holds the ends of his scarf up in the firelight. “Your scarf has fucking tiny giraffes on it, how do you even exist? Mike, Mike, how does this guy even exist?”

happy birthday happy birthday!

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 22:52:52 GMT

It's William Beckett's birthday today! Little Billvy is a whopping 23 - does that mean Gabe and Travis get to spank him 23 times?

To celebrate this momentous occasion, why not take a spin through my very own (though slightly outdated) William Beckett picspam, or reread some of these excellent stories starring William Beckett (Ms. Beckett if you're nasty). These are all older stories at this point, so rec newer stories in comments!

I Will Destroy Ryan Ross And All That He Loves by jae_w
TAI/PATD
The first thing to do, William thought, was to lay a trap for Ross. In this case, laying a trap entailed making out with hot, eager, extremely sincere boys in front of Ryan as much as possible, but such were the sacrifices William was prepared to make in pursuit of his goal. No matter how many guys he dragged in front of Ryan, though, Ryan didn't make a move on any of them. He looked, definitely, William caught him looking several times, and each time William caught him Ryan would look down and then glance over at William almost apologetically through his eyelashes. Perhaps, William thought, perhaps Ross had seen the error of his ways. If Ryan was prepared to be sorry, William was prepared to be generous. Maybe just a mild chastisement, some petty public humiliation and then, if Ryan asked very nicely, William might let Ryan make it up to him.

Afterparty by pre_emptive
Jon/William
When Jon feels cool fingers trail down his back, condensation-damp and leaking through his t-shirt, he knows exactly whose they are. There are only so many people who would have such utter disrespect for the fact that for once, he's managing to have an interesting conversation with Bianca's face. Admittedly, almost all of them are at this party, but he knows these fingers well.

"Hey Billiam," he says, and leans back into the touch.

lyrical master blaster by gigantic
William/Travis
William says, "Are you trying to show me up?" and tilts his head back to finish off his can, hair tickling Travis's arm and neck curving against his forearm. The skin's a little sweaty. Mexico is too warm even in the evening, kids still running around in their trunks and bikinis. Travis laughs at William as he drinks, and William gasps loudly when he finishes, crushing the can in his hands and turning his head back and forth, searching.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by iridescentglow
William/Gabe
That was the thing, of course. William—Bill—was not his boyfriend; fuck knows, they weren't in love. Their relationship had always been resoundingly, exhaustively platonic. If he was honest with himself, Gabe couldn't entirely figure out why. But when William invited him to crash at his hotel room, it meant just that: a spot on the floor. When William hugged him, he was an irritating blend of childish and coquettish—but it was never a precursor to much of anything. And when William loaned Gabe some clothes to wear, it was… just clothes.

Skeptics and True Believers by iphignia939
William/Patrick
"Come on," Bill said, planting himself in front of Patrick's locker. Patrick just sighed and didn't bother trying to move him; he'd known Bill just long enough to know that that wasn't really an option. He was tiny and weighed maybe six pounds, but he had, like, magnets in his feet. "Give it a shot!"

"No," Patrick said, and shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other. "I don't -- Bill, I don't sing, okay? I don't."

It's someone else's birthday around these parts. I know I'm indebted to iphignia939's excellent Pete/Patrick, without which I may not ever have cared about the gloriously gay q&as, or the gloriously gay crush Pete has on Patrick. Happy birthday, Gale!

we happy few, FOB GSF
One of Pete's shoes is propping the door open; Joe kicks it aside and lets them in, closing it behind him. "Okay, what the hell was so important? 'Cause if it's to help you dye your hair again, asshole, you don't *actually* need two people to help you do that."

Suppose For A Moment, Pete/Patrick
Pete walks into the kitchen, still jingling his keys. He hasn't slept, he still smells like Ashlee's perfume, and all he wants to do is go upstairs, climb into bed, and close his ey--

"Hey," Other Him says, standing at the counter, staring squint-eyed at the coffee machine. "Oh my God, do you have any idea how to work this? Because I just. I got nothin' right now."

Tuesday-Thursday, Bill/JWalk/Butcher
Bill is bored.

This is not, in and of itself, a bad thing; under the right circumstances, boredom can be extremely conducive to the creative process. Ideas are just what happens when several sources of information plug into each other and connections form, after all. When people get bored, they let their minds wander; it’s like natural connective tissue between ideas.

However. When Bill gets bored, he tends to get horny.

So We'll Stop Pretending, Ryan/Spencer
"I'm *pretty*," Ryan said out loud, voice going high and feminine. He snickered and did a little twirl. He really wasn't -- his face was too masculine, and he had an Adam's apple. His hips didn't curve or anything. But it's what someone might say, maybe, to themselves, wearing something like this. Back in the 1920s, maybe.

the eternal dilemma, Patrick/Maja
It doesn't help that there was just enough of a lull between breaking up with Anna and dating Maja that any and all experience regarding buying girls things went completely out his ear. Anna had been a lot like the other girls he's gone out with: very sensible, occasionally girly. She didn't like bath stuff, and she trusted his taste in music (or said she did, which was almost the same thing), and she wasn't a big fan of yellow. Other than that, she was good.

Maja is not like that.

Go forth! Read! Comment! Rec more! Happy birthday to Bill and Gale; may you both be feted as you deserve, whether you have a secret baby or are secret babyless!

Any Lucky Affection (Pete/Patrick, R)

Sun, 10 Feb 2008 16:49:09 GMT

Yay, new fic! \o/

Any Lucky Affection
by Charli J
Pete/Patrick (Pete/Gabe, implied Pete/Mikey). R. 9,500 words.
The important parts of an 'us' told in a series of anecdotes.

( Any Lucky Affection )

Panic Fic: Barstow is for Blowjobs. Brendon/Ryan.

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 08:10:59 GMT

Barstow is for Blowjobs
Panic at the Disco; Brendon/Ryan
NC-17
~1800 words

"Brendon, we're in a parking lot in the middle of an outlet mall. This is not where I want to get arrested, ok?"

Art Rec!

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 06:47:20 GMT

Hey guys!

So, there is not nearly enough fanart in this fandom. I'm such a whore for it so every time I find a new piece, I get ridiculously excited. Recently xingou drew a little something and I think it deserves to be seen by just about anyone and everyone! It's a sweet, lovely Brendon piece that comes with a wee bit of backstory. She's absolutely fabulous as an artist AND as a person, so leave her some love and enjoy!

Snapshot

fic: what's written in braille upon my skin (panic, jon/ryan)

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 04:25:11 GMT

what's written in braille upon my skin
Jon/Ryan. PG. ~3300 words. Jon and Ryan on a blind date.
Jon meets Ryan through Spencer.

Fic: Panic: Ryan/Spencer, GSF; NC-17

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 06:12:30 GMT

Existing Unknowing
by rossetti
Panic at the Disco; Ryan/Spencer, GSF
NC-17, including some not very mild kink
~6800 words

Ryan knows what a blowjob looks like, feels like, tastes like. He knows when a blowjob is a just blowjob and when it's something more, something meant to prove a point, where the giver is on his knees for a reason.

New fic: A Little Less Independence Day (a little more fireworks)

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 17:58:50 GMT

Title: A Little Less Independence Day (a little more fireworks)
Author: giddygeek
Pairing: Pete/Patrick/Bob
Notes: Adult. 2300 words.

This is the edge of the map where the green-eyed monsters live.

fic: the brightest of all the colors (panic, jon/spencer)

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 23:40:48 GMT

the brightest of all the colors
Jon/Spencer. PG. ~7100 words.
Jon spends the first few days back home thinking about going back on tour.

fic:

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 02:35:36 GMT

The Wolf Prince
by iphignia939

Handsome prince, check; young person bearing up alone under circumstances, check; man and woman living happily ever aft – waaaaaaait a minute. [Pete/Patrick, AU; 20,583 words, in three parts]

Fic: The Old West AU, by Sky and El

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 23:24:40 GMT

Hey kids. El and I wrote an Old West AU! It's been, like, a year in coming, but it's finally ready for people to look at it and such.

Pairing: Darren/Tyson, Greta/Jon, Maja/Patrick, Pete/Mikey, Gerard/Frank/Bob, Chris/Spencer
Rating: Way NC-17, but no girlparts
Link?: Part One! (Part Two is linked at the bottom.)

panic(!) fic: shift. implied gsf, nc-17

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 08:36:27 GMT

shift
implied gsf
rated nc-17 for delightfully sexual situations
535 words

"Hey baby," Brendon makes the best kissy face he can at Ryan as he tries to body check him into the wall.

updated fic: In nobody's eyes but mine

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 18:05:23 GMT

In nobody's eyes but mine
Panic! at the Disco: Ryan & Brendon & various girls. Explicit. In progress (four parts posted of six).

two additional parts now up: 3 (lapdances) and 4 (with a groupie). all sections tagged here.

fic: I Just Love Your (R, Pete/Patrick)

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 21:30:30 GMT

I Just Love Your

Pete/Patrick, R, 1540 words

AU. “I like brains,” Pete says wistfully. He plants a sweet kiss on Patrick’s mouth, chaste, ending with a little bite of Patrick’s top lip. “I like you.”

the things we do (pete/joe, nc-17)

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 19:06:03 GMT

The Things We Do
by Charli J
Pete/Joe, NC-17. This is too good to let Pete brush it off.
Warnings: This story contains elements of sexual fetishism and genderfuckery of a sort.
Many thanks to teaspoon for indulging me. I also owe major thank yous to jadziadrgnrdr and jamjar for their encouragement, wise input, and the final betas.

( the things we do )

TaleSpin AU!

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 04:53:20 GMT

TaleSpin was this early '90s Disney cartoon. A small group of the cast of The Jungle Book as various characters (Baloo the bear as a cargo pilot and Shere Kahn as the big business man and King Louis as an entertainment type person) were set in some nebulous '30s setting, with '60s decor and lingo that went all over the place.

And then all I could see was Brendon Urie on an airfoil, cloudkicking behind the Disco Duck as Bob Bryar flew on a run, and it got away from me.

If someone wants to take these guys and run with them, please, be my guest.

Pete used to own Higher For Hire, but got sick of "small town" life, even with businesses booming all over the city. So Spencer bought it, with a fresh mba under his belt.

For his money he got two planes, one pilot, one navigator and one mechanic. Cape Suzette is a medium-sized coastal city with a booming tourist industry, where most of the laborers work for Way Enterprises or for Disashi or for themselves.

Bob and Brendon are often overworked. Wildcat will prep and pack a plane, the boys will land and hop on the loaded plane, and Wildcat will repeat with the newly harbored plane, unpacking, servicing and repacking the second plane. Granted, a run can take anywhere from a day to a week, it's still a lot of travel time logged in.

William finds Ryan in the cliffs above his house, sleeping under a stolen blanket. Only about 10,000 people live in Cape Suzette, and though William knows people live in the cliffs themselves, this particular piece of rock is very inhospitable.

William coaxes Ryan into going to work with him, after he convinces Ryan that he isn't going to be murdered or raped. "Look, I work for a good man. If he can't find something for you to do, he'll find someone to take you in."

Disashi owns the biggest fishing business in Cape Suzette. He pays almost half the town to work on his trawlers or his packing plants or his exporters. He also hires Spencer's planes and Way Enterprises' planes, if he thinks the flight might be too dangerous for his own pilots. The safety of his employees are one of his top priorities.

Disashi takes one look at the ragamuffin William drags in and rolls his eyes. "Bill, contrary to belief, I am not trying to collect the skinniest boys in Cape Suzette. How old are, you 13?"

Ryan bristles. "I'm almost 19."

Disashi expresses his disbelief and Ryan is caught between pouting and being angry at not being believed.

"Does that mean you won't give me a job?"

"Yes, because you should be in high school. And also, I have enough office employees already-- and I doubt you'd manage on my trawlers."

So William takes Ryan to HFH, where Spencer has just hired Jon Walker to man his second plane. It was a big decision, because they don't really have an off season: they ship anything from food to packages to people, all year round, but now both planes will be out at the same time.

Wildcat fretted a bit, worried about his ability to keep up, but relished the challenge.

"We could take you with us!" Brendon decides. "And if we needed repairs, we could just string you out the hangar on a net and you could fix the plane while we fly!"

"What if Jon needs *his* plane fixed?" Bob points out.

"Spencer can do it," Brendon grins, as Spencer walks by. He doesn't even stop, just cuffs Brendon upside the head and keeps walking.

Spencer is only mechanically inclined enough to see that the business he bought had good planes and a good staff. He has a daughter named Molly, and no wife or ring on his finger. Everyone likes Molly, but she's scared of Bob's beard. When Jon Walker showed up in all his scruffy glory ("Please tell me you wear boots when you fly." "If it's cold enough.") she falls in love, because she's 6 and fickle.

Jon needed a job, and Spencer needed a pilot. The problem with that was that they also needed a navigator. Jon's best friend Tom was Jon's navigator, but he was also dead, and Spencer's not so much into voodoo. It had been an accident, and Tom was at fault, but survivor's guilt will twist anything. There was a quiet sadness around Jon that even Spencer, not the best people person, can sense. But Jonny Walker comes highly recommended by everyone he's worked for, and they need a pilot, so Spencer ignored the fact that an upset pilot isn't always the best flyer.

They still needed a navigator for Jon, which is when the door blew open and in walked Bill Beckett, Ryan Ross hot on his heels.

"Have I got a deal for you!" Bill said, beaming at everyone in the room.

And that's how Higher For Hire got their second flying team.

HFH has two sea-planes. The Plain White Goose is the newer, fancier plane. The Disco Duck is the older, well-loved plane. Back when Pete ran the business and Ray flew the planes, the Duck was the only reliable exporter for hire. Even Way Enterprises hadn't gotten a public shipping business off the ground; they mainly catered to rich people.

There were other exporters of course, and personal planes abound (it's not uncommon to see a houseboat with a seaplane attached) because that's the only way to get out of Cape Suzette, besides boat, or unless you scale the cliffs.

But HFH became known for their fast, reliable and cheap rates (WE is not cheap). Major exports include seafood, but imports are everything else. And there's always Gabe-- he imports loads of specialty food and drink for his place. And every now and then, a band. Brendon's absolutely certain Gabe will hire them permanently as a band-hauler, if he gets enough outside bands wanting to play his club.

There are two pirate crews that hang around Cape Suzette: Maja's and the Butcher's. Rumor has it that the Butcher and Maja used to be lovers, but something happened and Carden, the Butcher's brother, was killed. One rumor says the Butcher went mad with grief, and that's why he left, and another says that Maja killed Carden, and that's why he left.

Brendon used to be a pirate. No one knows but Bob (not even Pete, though he bugged and bugged for days where Bob had found Brendon), and that's because Brendon picked the Duck to hide on when he left. He knows the true story behind the Butcher and Maja's rift, and Bob knows Brendon knows. He's just never asked.

Brendon left soon after the split because Maja had dangerous mood swings, and Brendon couldn't count on the Butcher to calm her down. He had swindled enough money to get by for a bit, but he wanted security, which was how he found himself on the Duck, hiding in the cargo hold.

Bob had been trying out an unfamiliar route, and had stumbled on the pirates. They gave chase, because they're pirates and what better to do with their time, which is when Brendon stowed away in the Duck, through one of the holes ripped out of her by gunfire.

It wasn't until Brendon heard the Iron Vulture's roar that he knew Maja meant business.

"We need to get out of here!" he yelled. "I don't think Maja likes you!"

"Who the hell are you?" Bob yelled back, evading a smaller fighter plane.

"I'm the one who's gonna tell you how to beat these guys!"

Bob thinks Brendon's watched too many movies, but he lets Brendon guide him into a fog filled cove. "Trust me, I know this spot and they can't follow- she only has one sea plane, and it's broken."

Bob is torn between two big questions, and finally asks the more pressing one. "How do you know it's broken?"

Brendon grins. "Because I did the dismantling."

Bob shuts his plane off and they listen for the smaller fighters.

"If they're sea pirates, why do they only have one sea plane?" Bob asks.

"The Butcher took the rest of them," Brendon replies. "When he left."

Bob's about to ask why Brendon knows this, and thinks better of it, from the tenseness of Brendon's shoulders. He doubts it's just from being chased by pirates. "Why are you on my plane?" he asks instead. Bob's slow temper is reaching peak: First he takes a wrong turn, then pirates attack him, and now he's blocked in a cover with a punk who probably set him up to be ambushed. He starts forward, not sure what he's going to do if and when he catches the kid. The plane's not that big.

"Don't I get a thanks?" Brendon snots, and Bob growls and pushes the kid into one of the few passenger seats.

"If your explanation is good enough, I won't toss you overboard."

Brendon stares at Bob for a few seconds, before saying "I needed help. And you flew by at the right time."

Bob makes a face. "Of course. Now, how do we go about getting out of here?"

Brendon grins. "Do you trust me?"

Bob won't talk about that run, either.

Brendon has an object he calls a cloudkicker. It's an airfoil that expands into a crescent, and he rides it like any recreational board, surfing through the clouds by rope out the hangar door. It's light enough that he can glide on it when he jumps out of planes, though he's never tried to land it on a hard surface.

The cloudkicker gives Bob a heart attack, and he hates it when Brendon surfs, whether he uses a tow line or not. He always wears the proper gear, more to appease Bob than anything else. Sometimes he misses flying without the gear. Trusting only in the tow line (sometimes) and himself (all the time) is the way it used to be. Brendon didn't often trust his pilot (pirates aren't famous for their niceties), which scares Bob. Absolute trust is something a navigator should have in his pilot, and if Brendon didn't have that in his former life, what does he think about Bob?

Frank Iero got the nick-name Wildcat from Tyson and Nick, a flying duo he used to hook up with back in the day, before he moved to Cape Suzette. Pete had heard of his reputation as a mechanic inland and had recruited him. When he learned Frank's nickname he laughed so hard, and then insisted on calling Frank that for the rest of his ownership of Higher For Hire.

Frank knows Bob knows his real name, but he's not sure Spencer know it, and he signs the paychecks.

Gerard runs the lighthouse. No one was surprised when he got the job. He was the eccentric who rambled about cheating death and saving lives! The lighthouse was perfect for him.

Joe and Andy run the "Bait And Switch", a shop that caters to tourists who want to fish in the bay/ocean. Joe runs the shop, Andy runs the boat.

Andy and Sashi sometimes yell at each other as one heads out and the other heads in. It adds spice to the tourist's day, and fuel to the fire and more people come and want to go out and watch natives insult each other over salt water.

Mikey Way is the CEO/president/creator of Way Enterprises. They have the largest number of planes ex-and-importing, but they're more expensive. On the other hand, they can insure your belongings if something happens. And they're fancier. Rich people like them for their looks.

"Gabe's" used to be called "Gabe's Cobra Palace", but over the years parts of the other words have shorted out, leaving at various times, "Gabe's Cobra" and then "Gabe's Bra" before shorting out on "Gabe's." He's just enough of a cheapskate to wait until his own name burns out before fixing anything.

Gabe's is the hot spot of Cape Suzette. It's actually an island, with hills just small enough to not be called mountains, and one summit that's actually a dormant volcano. Only a quarter of the island is developed- the club has a restaurant, dance club, bar, hotel and basement. Newcomers always ask they the basement is listed as an entertainment highlight, and the answer is always "Just wait until you see what's in the basement." But no one ever talks.

Travis is Gabe's bartender. He used to be a pilot, but there was an incident involving smuggled goods (namely, he got caught). Now Matt McGinley navigates for Matt Cortez, who keeps their plane on the straight and narrow.

Greta is one of the few female pilots in the area who goes all over the world. Darren is her navigator. She mainly flies in spices and rare foods from Asia, because she has the connections.

Ryland absolutely adores Greta and her unique shipments (even though he's the one who ordered the stuff in the first place). He's Gabe's cook. He writes sonnets about her flying abilities and her packing abilities, and her willingness to try anything he cooks.

Vicky T and Alex Suarez share hosting duties on the island. Vicky runs the docks and part of the civilized sleeping quarters. Alex runs the indoor facilities. When there's live music Gabe comes out of the woodwork, but he mostly takes care of paperwork and gets drunk with the patrons.

Nate is everyone's assistant. He helps with the docks and setting up the bar and stage and sweeping up and cleaning up the restaurant. Everyone adores the sarcastic little bastard, and most of the patrons tip him heavily. He's also been known to strap on a machete and create new paths all over the island. He was gone for a week, once, and just when they started to panic, they saw his signal fire on the summit. They had to scramble to find a signal book, but deciphered his cloud signals as "cake walk".

Gabe has three security men- Brian, Worm and Zach. They're mainly for show, because the patrons of Gabe's know that if they get rowdy enough they'll get their asses kicked. Behaving is much better than having Zach kidney punch you into submission.

Fic: Tuesdays and Weekends

Thu, 03 Jan 2008 17:40:29 GMT

Tuesdays and Weekends
Ryan centered, featuring Sandra Lee of Semi-Homemade Cooking.
Ryan/Keltie implied, featuring the use of legal and illegal mind altering substances
~2000 words

Ryan doesn't understand and doesn't question.

semi-fic: Stuff and Jon's Cat

Thu, 03 Jan 2008 04:08:22 GMT

i, uh, wrote this a few months back for my own amusement and never really got around to posting it. one part plot bunny, one part fic-like. i don't know. don't bite me.

Stuff and Jon's Cat
Panic! gen, rated G for fluffy absurdity.
completely unbetaed and written off the top of my head. set during the time they were at the cabin.
disclaimer: not real, done for amusement. and if you found this by searching your name and filter words, then you obviously have been spending way too much time on the internet. perhaps you'd like to click that back button please?

inspired by the fact that mikey way's cat is on stuff on my cat (seriously) and wondering if jon and company ever tried to put stuff on dylan. you know that brendon would totally be the first to try.

*

It all started when Brendon was bored and was poking around the internet that he found the website. He spent several hours poring over the pictures and giggling to himself in between recording sessions and trying to beat Spencer's and Jon's scores at Guitar Hero II. He didn't think much of it until Jon flew back to Chicago for a few days and had returned with Dylan in his cat carrier.

Brendon spend at least a half hour snuggling a purring Dylan in his arms. Jon just had a wry look of amusement on his face and went to put the carrier and the rest of his bags away in his room.

Ryan and Spencer didn't say anything on the matter. Secretly, they were both kind of glad that Jon brought Dylan back with him because comparing Dylan to Hobo, who could match Brendon's manic energy, Dylan was much more quiet and didn't bother anyone. He preferred to rub up against legs in exchange for head scratches and belly rubs. Or scraps from the kitchen.

*

It was one of those lazy days where they didn't feel like recording. Ryan was sitting outside on the patio with his journal open in his lap and a pen tucked in between the pages. Hobo was soundly sleeping underneath his chair. Spencer had gone on a supply run (the cabin was sorely lacking in junk food, water, and food in general) and Jon was napping on the sofa. Brendon doesn't feel like playing Guitar Hero or any of the millions of things that he could be doing instead of recording, but he really doesn't know what to do. Then, he spots Dylan asleep in the sunlight underneath one of the larger windows.

He's reminded of the website that he was looking at a few weeks back, of all the pictures of cats with things on their back or belly and wonders if the same concept applies to Dylan. He quickly scans the room for something to put on Dylan's back and settles for a toy monkey Spencer had randomly picked up on a supply run one day and had then taped to Brendon's microphone. After peeling the tape off, he tiptoed over to Dylan so he doesn't wake the cat up and gently placed the toy on his back and waited for any sign of movement. Dylan didn't move, but the tip of his tail was flickering around. The toy monkey was then taken off and in its place was a small stack of CD cases and like the first time, the cat didn't move again. Aside from the tip of his tail flickering, there wasn't a single movement from Dylan at all. Brendon was officially intrigued. But first, he grabs Jon's camera from the coffee table and snaps a picture.

*

Jon hears the sound of the shutter clicking and opens an bleary eye to see Brendon kneeling on the floor with his camera and a stack of CD cases perched on his napping cat. He clears his throat. "So, Brendon. May I ask why you're taking a picture of my cat?"

Brendon whirls around and grins. "Dude, I saw this on a website a few weeks ago and wanted to try it."

Jon cocks an eyebrow. "A. Website. You saw this on a website."

"Yeah! It's just pictures people took of their cats with all sorts of stuff on them. Like costumes and toys and shit like that. Here, I'll show you!" Brendon races to his room and comes back with his laptop in his clutches. He plops down onto the floor, turns the laptop on, and pulls up the website as soon as it finishes booting up. He points to the first picture that pops up and grins. "See? No harm, no foul."

Jon chuckles as he watches Brendon scroll through the archives and snorts when he sees the picture of the cat covered in grass. They look over at Dylan, who's still asleep and the CD cases still perched on his back. They look at each other and grin.

*

The next item is a half-empty water bottle that Spencer left on the coffee table before going on the supply run and then came game controllers, microphones, various books and other junk that happens to be lying around in their sight. Jon keeps the camera snapping as Brendon continued piling objects on Dylan's back until they heard a door slam shut, waking up Dylan and sending the growing pile of objects that were on his back clattering to the floor and sending the cat running towards Jon's room.

"What the hell's going on?" Spencer asks as he sets the bags he had in his arms onto the nearest table. "And why were you putting stuff on the cat?"

Jon shoves Brendon in the shoulder. "You tell him. It was your idea."

Brendon shoved back. "And you went with it."

"After you explained it to me. And that means you still have to explain why we were putting a bunch of random things on my cat and taking pictures." Jon replied as he got up and headed towards his room to coax Dylan out from underneath his bed. Brendon would protest, but Jon's already out of earshot so he turns to Spencer, who has the "what stupid shit did you do this time, Brendon?" expression on his face. There's a hurried explanation and babbling as to why Jon's camera is full of pictures of a napping Dylan and random objects on him and after he's finished rambling, Spencer palms him in the forehead.

"That's got to be the dumbest thing I've heard in a long time, Brendon." Then Brendon pulls up the website again and babbles that it's perfectly harmless fun and look, the cats are playing as well unless the cat is taking a bath. Spencer simply rolls his eyes at him and goes back to unpacking the groceries and other stuff he picked up on the supply run. He pulls the catnip toys out of one of the bags and the corner of his mouth twitches; he wants in next time.

*

The next opportunity arrives pretty quickly because no more than ten minutes later, Jon returns with Dylan purring in his arms. He settles Dylan back on the ground, and the cat rubs up against his legs before returning to his spot below the window and rolls over on his back to bask in the sunlight. Brendon and Spencer turn to look at Jon and they smirk.

*

Jon's camera contains nearly 300 pictures of Dylan with various objects placed on him. There were some instances of him moving around and Jon not being able to get a good snapshot but for the most part, Dylan was just lying there on the floor with game controllers, drumsticks, water bottles, random toys and other sundry objects positioned on either his belly or his back. They each have their favorite pictures and contemplate whether or not to actually send it to the website that started this absurdity in the first place, but settle for keeping copies on Jon's camera.

*

Jon gets an email from Pete containing no less than 40 pictures of Hemingway with various objects, toys and ridiculous clothes on him. There may have been one of Hemingway asleep and one of Patrick's hats tucked in his mouth. Another photograph had zebra ears. He suspects that Brendon emailed at least one or seven pictures of Dylan to Pete because otherwise this wouldn't be sitting in his inbox. Nonetheless, he files it away on his laptop for future mocking.

*

There's a half-finished sketch in Ryan's journal of Dylan with several vaguely drawn objects on top of him amongst all the random lyrics and scribblings. It's rough and nowhere near completed, but he's kind of proud of how the sketch turned out because he was doodling it while trying not appear that he was watching his bandmates stack toys and other sundry objects on top of a cat. There may have been a secretly printed copy of one of the photographs taped to one of the pages, but he's not telling.

i appreciate all comments and criticisms.