Do you support Pete/Mikey slash? Cuz we do!

True Love Is The Devil's Countdown

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 23:18:21 GMT

Title: True Love Is The Devil's Countdown
Author: idle_graffito
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, future Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
Rating: PG
POV: third
Summary: The funniest part of it all, Mikey will think later, when it’s stopped hurting so much (but still stings a bit, like a sore in your mouth that you can only feel when you poke it with your tongue), the funniest part is how Pete Wentz quoted himself to get into Mikey’s pants and it worked.
Disclaimer: lolzfake.
Author Notes: Ninth in a series of thirteen connected standalones written for write_the_songs. (Follow the tag for the other stories.) Mikey's half of what happened in Two Creams, Two Sugars. Re-posted because I added another 2ooo words /o\

( “Sunsets are best in New Mexico,” Pete declared, and he’d sounded so sure of himself that Mikey didn’t question him, not once. )

if advertising isn't allowed i am very sorry :[

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 21:12:49 GMT

Located in the outskirts of Portland, Maine; The Arts Academy is a place for boys and girls of the high school age [13-18] to come and perfect their art. Be it dance, photography, instrumental, painting, acting or something else, this school offers everyone the chance to exceed in their talent. Students are housed on campus, in one of two dorms, depending on gender. Academics are also offered in: Maths, English, Science, Foreign Language, History, depending on grade level. Teachers are housed in on-campus apartments.

We have pretty much all characters still available and OCs/PBs are welcome. All age groups are pretty much catered for, there aren't exactly very many restrictions; as long as you play nice. For rules and information please visit artsacademy

To apply, click here.

For more information IM frankieroftw or email omgdansane@gmail.com. please note this is not the same as the old Greatest Journal community; I was just too lazy to come up with a new name. Let's say it's new and improved! Comment here (or in the community) for holds, I'll keep them for up to (but not exceeding) 7 days :)

FIC: two pill bottles and a microphone by SA [FOB/MCR, Pete/Mikey, 1/1, R]

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 22:03:19 GMT

Title: two pill bottles and a microphone
By: SA [sathinks]
Disclaimer: Mikey Way, dudes. Mikey Way. Hit the back button if you or one of your people bears these names.
Notes: Er, I listened to a lot of Pixies writing this? I don't know. Pete/Mikey (ex), 1500 words, circa 2006.

( This is the second night he'd been alone in his house, and maybe Pete is ready to admit that it's freaking him out. It had taken five miles of pushing himself, running the neighborhood round and round until he was tired enough to combat the insomnia and actually sleep. So of course he wakes up in the middle of the night from a fucking nightmare he can't remember. )

The Same Mistakes [1/?]

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 17:42:15 GMT

The Same Mistakes [1/?]
Title: The Same Mistakes [1/?]
Pairing: Mikey Way / Pete Wentz , implied Mikey Way / Gabe Saporta
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Love doesn't understand pain. It doesn't understand right and wrong or truth and lies. All it knows is that tingle that you get when that one person stands to close, when they run their hand down your back and whisper, "I love you." in your ear. It doesn't matter if they mean it or not, Love doesn't care.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really.

This was nothing more than an encounter brought on by unwanted sympathy and some residing lust.

You knew that. From the moment he walked through the door to the hard thud your back made hitting the wall, you knew you'd wake up sore and alone. And even after everything, the whispered resentments and anything but subtle acusations, after what he said and how you know he meant every word, even after the broken knuckles and bruised cheeks, he still made sure you wanted what was about to happen.

You sometimes think this was just a way for him to seperate himself from Gabe. But you like to think it had more to do with how he knew you hated waking up with aches where there shouldn't be and memories that should have been forget the moment they formed.  You secretly hope it has everything to do with this, that he cared enough to remember.

Even threw this mocking display of a past affair.

You were up against a wall the moment your front door closed, body twisting around his like a ragdoll. With your legs wrapped tight around his middle and his arms running wildly up and down your back, you weren't really thinking about reasons. You weren't thinking about Gabe and his rough hands, and you most definitly were not imagining how it would feel to have them running down your side.

At that moment, with Pete's heavy breathing in your ear, all you were thinking about was the delicious pressure just at the base of your spine. And it was hot and it was dirty, it was everything you thought Pete didn't have in him wrapped up in a few moments of uncontrollable, unhindered passion.

And just like that, something changed.

You're not really sure what, and you're more than positive you don't want to know at all, but you know something did. And it was electric. Chemical. It was slow, and yet, it felt like it happened right then in the blink of an eye, splashed across the living room wall.

Pete was someone you never really thought could be anything more than just Pete. He was an enigma, a ghost. Even his touch was just barely there, like he was afraid he'd break you if he pressed to hard. So it was quite a shock to feel his fingers wrap tightly around your neck, nails digging into the tender flesh just above your pulse point. You think you'll remember his eyes the most. They looked demonic, a glint of something you've never witnessed buried just under the surface of those normally pale orbs. It made your breathe catch in your chest.

"You are mine, Mikey. You always have been, and that abusive fuck is not going to change a thing."

His breathe fell against your lips, warm and steady. The grip around your neck started to lossen. His gaze never did.

"I love you, Mikey Way. I love you so fucking much I can't stand it."

And that hand that had come dangerously close to cutting off circulation just a moment before, was now rubbing softly down your cheek, caressing the hurt it had placed all those months back, trying to rub it out of you.

"I'm going to kiss you now, and you sure as fuck better not be thinking of him when I do."

All you can do is nod you head.

And then, he's everywhere. He's in everything. He was kissing you so hard you couldn't possibly think of anything selse. And every touch, every carress of skin on pale skin, it meant more than anything you ever felt.

You could feel him seeping inside your body, through your skin, through the pores and wrinkles time and Gabe had created.

And you felt complete again.

For the first time in months, you felt whole and safe and loved. It didn't matter if you would wake up alone the next morning. It didn't matter how you'd have to hide the scratches running down your back from his once best friend.  It didn't matter that his whole sordid affair was the result of his stubborness and your niavety.

The picture digging into your back didn't matter. The bruises forming on your hips didn't matter.
Tomorrow morning didn't matter.

The past didn't matter.

The only thing you cared about during those moments was right in front of you, in you, all around you. With Pete holding you like there was nothing left for him but this, you couldn't possible care about anything else.

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 01:29:07 GMT

Title: I Didn't Come To See The City, I Came To See It Around You
Pairing: Pete Wentz / Mikey Way
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own absolutly nothing. It's quite sad.
Summary: "Some days it feels like you're the only person really living anymore.
It terrifies you. And if you think to long on it, your head starts to spin so fast you can't see straight for days."
A/N: The title is from the Chris Garneau song, "Relief".

You've always been ungrateful, at least according to your brother.

Gerard would say, "Mikey, you could own the world, but you wouldn't be happy until you had the moon. And when you finally had the moon, all you'd think about was the sun."

You never bothered to tell him he was probably right.

-------------

Some days it feels like you're the only person really living anymore.

But most of the time, you just feel lonely.
And it's the kind of lonely that almost makes you forget to breathe. But by the time you remember again, you're not so sure you feel motivated enough to do it anyways. (It's times like those that make you grateful your brother introduced you to the benefits of smoking. ~~Enhale. Exhale. Repeat.~~) It's the type of lonely that can drive anyone mad, that you have seen take hold of persons much stronger than you could ever be.

It terrifies you. And if you think to long on it, your head starts to spin so fast you can't see straight for days.

So you don't think about it. Ever. This tactic has proven very effective over the years, with hundreds of trials spanning over the decades of your existence, all with the same result. If you don't think about that lonely, that dark shadow in the back of your mind, you start to forget it's there. And if you forget about it, if you're able to avoid that madness and remember to breathe, than it almost feels like you've beaten it.

-------------

"I can't believe you still do that."

You're sitting on some ledge outside another nameless venue in some city you can't even remember the name of (in they end they all look the same anyway), savoring your post-show cigarette and trying to remind yourself that at least the stars are the same as the ones back home, while one of your vices pesters you about the only one you actually want to keep.
The taste of nicotine has always bothered you. Something about the bitterness never really sits well in your stomach. But you honestly can't bring yourself to care enough to quit. Your whole life you've been trading one habit for another. And this particular one is a hell of a lot less destructive than any of the ones before.

Including Pete.

But lately you've been tacking on as many habits as you can manage, building a collection of sorts for you to pick and choose from when you're feeling particularly self-destructive. And you can't seem to bring yourself to choose between your nicotine fix and it's short, tattooed poet of a counterpart.

You're beginning to think you'll never be able to.

Lift. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Pause. Flick. Repeat.

You remember Gerard telling you why he started. You also remember him lighting your very first cigarette, pinched between his thumb and pointer finger and quickly kindled. He handed it over to you and told you it would make you feel better, how it would give you something to think about when you couldn't wrap your mind around anything else.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Inhale, "Honestly?" Hold. "No." Exhale."Do I ever?" Flick.

In all your time together, you've never once been able to wrap your mind around Pete completely. You suppose that's probably why you smoke like a chimney whenever he's around.

"Maybe if you weren't such a fucking smart ass, Michael." He spoke into the air, carefully fanning the smoke wafting from your cigarette out of his face, "I used to kind of think it was endearing. But that theory went out the window after hanging around you for more than a week. "

The ledge is starting to dig into your skin and you can't bring yourself to care.

"Don't call me Michael, Peter."

Lift. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Pause. Flick. Repeat.

-------------

Life can be living, but living can never be life.

To live, to truly have the freedom to be whatever it is makes your heart pound and blood pump, that's something completely seperate from the simple complexities of life. Life is waking up and knowing you woke up for a reason, it's why you pull the curtains back and brew that first pot of coffee. It's the reason you go to work or fold your laundry, it's why you try for hours to get the wringles out of a shirt that just doesn't want to be seamless. Life is your midnight run when sleep just won't set it.

But living, to truly live instead of just being a part of that life you know so well, that's a completely different animal, a new breed that only a select few have started to tame.

Life is laying your head down to sleep, living is only sleeping so you can be a part of the dreams.

Sometimes you're sure you were just moving through life before you met him, that somehow he pulled you from your routines and the safety they brought you, and made you wake up from a long dreamless sleep.

------------

"Do you ever wonder if maybe we've been asleep all this time?"
"Pete... It's 3 in the morning. We should be asleep."
"Not that kind of sleep, that's not what I'm talking about. You know when you wake up, and sometimes it feels like you never really did, like you're still dreaming and maybe you're just dreaming about what you think the next day will be. But then the day happens, and you never woke up, so then you realize that you've been awake that whole time. Maybe we're never really awake at all. Mikey, what if I'm dreaming you and me?"
"Than it was a good dream."
"What happens when I wake up?"

-----------

When you were little, you never really imagined your life to be any particular way.  Everything was moment by moment back then, and that's just how you liked it.

Looking to far in the future gave you a headache, and it always left you feeling like nothing at all.

Gerard used to pretend he could see anything he wanted when he was looking at himself in the mirror of your mother's jewelry box. He'd sit for hours and hours just staring at his reflection. Most of the time, he'd be completely silent, not utter a word for ages. And others, he couldn't stop laughing. He'd just laugh and laugh for hours on end at nothing at all but his own eyes looking back at him.

But this one time, while your mother and father yelled about everything there was to yell at in the kitchen, Gerard looked in that mirror like he always did, and started to cry.

And not the loud, obnoxious tears your mother had perfected during those arguments, not even the silent tears you once saw your father shed after your grandma's funeral. This was so much more than loud theatrics or quiet despair. It was like your brother's heart was breaking to pieces right there in front of you, with a single tear slicing its way down his pale cheek.
When you asked him what he saw, all he could do was grab your shoulders and hug you tight, whispering something about love and loss and all those things you never really could understand.

Neither of you ever searched for your futures in the reflection of that mirror again.

-----------

Inhale.

You saw him today. He was sitting in a patch of grass out behind the buses, looking up towards the sky and picking at the blades of green by his feet. You almost forgot the space that had grown between you and ran over to sit with him. You could see yourself throwing your arms around his neck and laying down on the grass with his shoulder as your pillow, watching the sky and whispering secrets into his skin, just like you used to do.

But just as your feet started moving in his direction, the space grew wide again and you were almostswallowed by it, like some horrible waking nightmare. Besides, you're sure Pete wouldn't take to kindly to having an ex-whatever hanging around.

Because that's what you were, what you'd become to him.

Whatever you might of had at one time, in all it's once glorious undefined freedom, had grown into something that could be ignored just as easily as you both looked over the confines of a 'relationship'.  And that realization, understanding just what it was you two weren't anymore, that almost hurt worse than seeing him lying there and not being able to do a thing.

Exhale.

-------------

When the nightmares come, you curse under your breathe and send hateful thoughts to a bed thousands of miles away. Sometimes you hate him for making you dream again.

It feels like you never get any rest.

-------------

We hid behind his poetry, underneath sunsets and inbetween sunrises, in the backseat of cabs and the front of your car. The two of you had become experts at games you remember playing as a child with your brother, the difference being how those games feel a lot less like play and more like survival now.

You were the king of hide and seek. And he made you that way.

There would be days when you wouldn't see him at all, when not even his bandmates would know where he was hidden away. And when those times came, you knew just what to do. You had a mental map stored away in your memory of all the places he liked to hide the most, of the type of crowds he liked to get lost in, the music he tried to escape through.  You knew what days you would find him hiding in his bunk, wrapped tight in his blankets and trying to forget how the road made him feel like a lost boy, without a home.

And you also knew when he would be sitting under the only tree in the entire venue, scribbling away and ignoring everything he could think to forget.

You'd find him buried under a heap of jumpled words and barely legible prose, head bent over a tattered notebook barely clinging to the metal wire running through it's pages. He'd look up at you with glassy eyes and a stitched on grin, it's thread unraveling with every step closer you took, and whisper, "You're it." like a death sentence.

It took you months to realize what he was talking about, how he understood the game you two were playing with each other. And in the end, it almost did feel like the gavel falling to the stand, a quilty verdict on the jurors tongues.

Sometimes you'd turn around and start looking for a hiding place of your own. But mostly, you'd sit down with him and help pick apart all those tangled thoughts he had lodged in that head of his and scrawled across the paper of that tattered notebook.

You always loved puzzles.

----------

And now here you are, sitting in his bedroom in Chicago, looking out at the stars and trying to remind yourself that they're the same ones you looked up at all those months ago, the same ones you've been looking at for years.
It's in those stars, in the combination of light and dark thrown across the sky by some faceless God, that you finally understand.
Pete is your addiction. He's that fix you just can't seem to be rid of. And no matter how hard you try to purge him from your system, he's still there, lurking just under the surface.

But the thing that really scares you, the one part of this great big mess of an affair that you can't seem wrap your head around, is how easily you allowed him to become just that.

He dug in under the wire while you let him.

In the end, that's all there is. Pete Wentz found a way inside your heart, through his poetry and his eyes, through how he touched you and the way his breathe settled over your skin like a warm blanket. And through all of that, with every touch and sleepless night, you feel in love with him right back.

-----------

When you tried to get up the next morning, he wrapped his arms around you tighter and whispered in your ear, "It's okay to be still for a while, you know."
His breathe tickles your skin and you smile.

Tue, 18 Mar 2008 19:24:09 GMT

Title: Smile For Me
Rating: R for language
Pairing: Mikey Way / Pete Wentz
Summary: "You close those eyes and dream a good dream, and maybe think of me when you wake. 'Cause God knows I'm thinkin' about you..."
Disclaimer: sadly, i do not own the wonderful mikey way or his lovely boy, pete. but boy, do i wish i did.
A/N: I just finished watching 'Across the Universe' for the hundredth time before I wrote this. So I blame the styling on that ~~amazing~~ film. ^_^ This is also my first attempt at Mikey/Pete. I just recently fell in love and am trying quite desperatly to catch myself up on all the wonderful stories out there. So this also might be a little bit... off, just because i'm still getting used to writing the pairing.

What did I tell you, Michael Darling? Don't be so hard on yourself.

I heard about how you've been doing from that brother of yours. He told me how he hasn't heard you say a word for days, and how it's been weeks since he witnessed a smile. You're brother is worried about you, Mikey. And apparently he still things I have a strong enough hold on your heart to fix whatever is wrong.

And at first, I almost laughed at him. He saw what happened when the leaves started to change and summer ran dry. But then I thought about how he was probably the one that your cried too, the one who is so fiercly protective of his little brother, and here he is calling me of all people. The boy who broke his little brother's heart.
So then I thought how maybe I might just still have an imprint on that broken heart, the place where my hand used to me...

So Mikey, do I?

Regardless what your answer may be, I'm writing to you now so you know I'm still gonna try.  So here's my attempt. And let me be the first to say I'm sorry if it only makes that sadness edge just a little bit closer to your bones. 'Cause I know how it feels to have that burden wrapped tight around your insides, and I wouldn't wish that on you for anything in the world.

I miss you, you know? And I'm starting to really think you may just miss me too. But there's that wall there, that big brick wall that divides the past from what could be a future... that dreaded "history". But you listen, Michael Darling, 'cause the past is the past and no matter how hard you think about it, it's not gonna change. So go sit down in your room, pour yourself a nice big mug of that sludge you love so much, and think about the future for once. Okay? You close those eyes and dream a good dream, and maybe think of me when you wake. 'Cause God knows I'm thinkin' about you...

I swear, I'll get us out of where we are.  Soon you'll be the one to tell me your so sad you can hardly force a smile on that pretty face of yours.    One day you'll be looking out your bedroom window and thinking about me thinkin' about you, just like it was before.
But in the meantime, try and smile once every know and then. And you don't have to mean it, but maybe it will make you feel a little better, maybe jumpstart you to the point where you don't have to force a smile anymore.

Remember what that summer felt like? ~~'cause I can't forget it~~  Back when you didn't have a ring weighing your hand down, back when I called you baby and you'd lay your head on my shoulder at night? Remember those sunsets? Or when your brother finally caught us? I had never been so scared of an older brother in my life...
Your brother always was the protective type, with his old eyes watching your back when you were to lost another pair to notice anything else.  I kinda always wished I had someone like that when I was little.  But like I said, the past is the past. And it probably did me well to look out for my own skin all those years, it made me strong.

But you, you have those long delicate fingers ~~that I refuse to believe have been tainted by some cheap metal while I was away,~~ and you've got the softest lips a boy could have. In fact, I don't think I've ever had a kiss so sweet from anyone before you and I'm postive there won't be anyone after.

Boy, do I wish there wasn't an after...

But like I was saying, one day it will all be nice again. 'Cause right now it's true the world is fucked. It's so far in the shit I'm sure we'll never really completely be clean again. And my head as been spinning for days, years even.  God, is my equilibruim fucked. But you, somehow you were able to balance me out for a little while. And I'm hoping, maybe, I could help you as well.

So do you think you could fly out to chicago, Michael Darling, maybe just for a night ~~or a lifetime~~, and sit with me a while? 'Cause baby, my head is pounding so hard I can hardly see straight. And I'm sure you could make it all better with just your head resting against mine. I'll save you a seat by the window in my room even. And you'll tell me why you can't sleep at night and how nobody has seen you smile for days. You'll whisper in my ear all about how you can't stand how trapped you feel with that ring around your finger, with the girl waiting for you halfway across the country. You'll lay your head on my shoulder and you'll finally fall asleep, the kind of sleep you haven't had for months, while I pretend to be asleep as well. But I won't be. I'll be watching you breathe, baby. And it will make the spinning stop for a little while.

And you'll wake up thinking of me thinkin' of you and it'll make you smile so big you won't ever be sad again. You hear me, Mikey?  'Cause you may be on the other side of the world, but you should be by mine tonight.

I think I'm so far deep in love with you, I can't see anything else. And baby, that's fine with me.

XOXO
Peter Pan

crossing brooklyn ferry [15/??]

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 01:10:00 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [15/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] R-NC-17; [mild swearing, kissing, sexual content, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way [main]
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman. For Davey, because he is my baby and i love him
[PREVIOUS]
Here

Others will see the islands large and small;[15]

FIC: play it again sam (and this time make it count) [FOB/MCR, Pete/Mikey, Mikey/Alicia, 1/1 PG13]

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 23:05:27 GMT

Title: play it again sam (and this time make it count)
By: SA [sathinks]
Disclaimer: Mikey Way says it for me.
Notes: Believe it or not, this story started with Gabe Saporta. For cass404, because she has learned the error of her ways. Pete/Mikey, Mikey/Alicia. PG13, 1/1.

( Summer ends, okay, but it's not like the world stops. )

Primer

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 16:48:34 GMT

Hey, guys, wanted to let you know that I posted a Mikey/Pete Manifer (Manifesto + Primer) HERE at bandom_ships. It's pretty comprehensive, ie: all the canon I could get my hands on, including blog entries, pictures (like all of the White Denim Jacket ones!), Q&As, et cetera. Check it out, and feel free to add anything in the comments! Also, there's a few fic recs at the end of it.

xo [2/2]

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 15:54:13 GMT

Title: XO
Author: idle_graffito
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Rating: PG-13
POV: third
Summary: Love, Mikey thinks, must be like communism in that it looks good on paper only. It must be like that toy you’d beg for year after year for Christmas or your birthday – because everyone’s got it, and without it you’re like incomplete, or something – but then you actually get your hands on it and it ends up in the yard sale bin within weeks.
Disclaimer: lolz fake.
Author Notes: 2000+ words. For the we_are_cities prompt on 08 september 07. Crossposted most sluttily.
Previous: eins

( It’s kind of Gabe Saporta’s fault that it even happens in the first place... )

XO [1/2]

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 01:19:34 GMT

Title: XO
Author: idle_graffito
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Rating: PG-13
POV: third
Summary: Mikey doesn’t press the matter any further, because he’s afraid that no matter what words he plans to utter, they’ll get lost in translation somewhere between his brain and his mouth because his heart gave them the wrong directions and he’ll end up saying something totally unacceptable like ‘I think I could really fall in love with you.’
Disclaimer: lolz fake.
Author Notes: 1600+ words. For the we_are_cities prompt on 08 september 07. Crossposted most sluttily.

( The words come in a heated tickle of quivering breath against Mikey’s neck, but he’s not listening. )

cbf

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 08:14:01 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [14/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] R-NC-17; [mild swearing, kissing, sexual content, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way [main]
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman. For Davey[and Gabey], because he is my babe and i love him
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;[10]
The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing of others. [11]
Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;[12]Others will watch the run of the flood-tide;[13]

-----------------

Others will see the shipping of Manhattan north and west, and the heights of Brooklyn to the south and east;[14]

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

Thu, 27 Dec 2007 06:55:40 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [13/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] R-NC-17; [mild swearing, kissing, sexual content, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way [main]
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman. For Davey, because he is my baby and i love him
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;[10]
The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing of others. [11]
Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;[12]

-------------

Others will watch the run of the flood-tide;[13]

CBF

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 04:24:56 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [12/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] R-NC-17; [mild swearing, kissing, sexual content, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way [main]
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman.
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;[10]
The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing of others. [11]

-------------------------
Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;[12]

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 00:06:38 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [11/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] R-NC-17; [mild swearing, kissing, sexual content, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way [main]
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman.
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;[10]

-----------------------------

The certainty of others—the life, love, sight, hearing of others. [11]

Cocaine And New Glasses [3/4-ish]

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 15:22:43 GMT

Title: Cocaine And New Glasses
Author: idle_graffito
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
POV: Third
Summary: “Don’t you miss this?” he asks Mikey, trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. Mikey sighs, looking visibly distressed, but he falls into Pete’s palm anyway. “I still have this,” he replies in a mournful tone, “Just not with you.”
Disclaimer: fake liek whoa. Title a line from the film Bent.
Author's Notes: takes place in autumn of 2005 or something. tried to keep it more fact-based than a lot of my other stuff but artistic liberties have been taken to fill up the many blanks in my knowledge. for the insidestories prompt on 11 november, and the we_are_cities prompt on 7 november.

previous:
yksi ! kaksi

( Suddenly it was all about 'if you love something set it free.' )

hello, Darkness, my old friend

Sun, 02 Dec 2007 18:48:58 GMT

Title: hello, Darkness, my old friend
Author: oheartheart
Pairing: Pete/Mikey
Rating: R
Summary: It’s ironic, Gerard thinks, that Mikey learned bass for him and helped ruin both their lives. But then Mikey learned to throw knives at Gerard and miss and saved their lives.
Other notes: Title from Simon and Garfunkel's 'The Sound of Silence' and link text from Eric Clapton's 'Circus.' This is a circus!au and a prequel to another story, dead weight in the crashing footfall

And in the ring stands a circus clown,
Holding up a knife.
What you see and what you will hear
will last you for the rest of your life

CBF

Mon, 26 Nov 2007 23:28:07 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [10/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] PG-13; [mild swearing, kissing, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman.
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]

--------------
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;[10]

Cocaine And New Glasses [2/3-ish?]

Fri, 23 Nov 2007 13:54:02 GMT

Title: Cocaine And New Glasses
Author: idle_graffito
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
POV: Third
Summary: And then, of course, inevitably, Pete’s mouth blindly collides with Mikey's perfect lips, and the way they fit together isn’t so much like puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place than it is something that requires a little bit of molding and fumbling to get it just right – a square peg in a round hole, maybe, or the teeth of a broken zipper struggling to meet.
Disclaimer: fake liek whoa. Title a line from the film Bent.
Author's Notes: takes place in autumn of 2005 or something. tried to keep it more fact-based than a lot of my other stuff but artistic liberties have been taken to fill up the many blanks in my knowledge. for the insidestories prompt on 11 november, and the we_are_cities prompt on 7 november.

previous:
yksi [not really necessary to read =P ]

( A little harder couldn't hurt. )

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 08:36:13 GMT

[TITLE] Crossing Brooklyn Ferry [9/?]
[AUTHOR] giveyouasmirk
[RATING] PG-13; [mild swearing, kissing, adult situations]
[PAIRING] Peter Wentz x Michael Way
[SUMMARY] Pete is forced to move with his mother to Princeton, New Jersey, where he's almost always in trouble. Despite his outstanding grades, all of his teachers despise him. He's given an ultimatum.
[DISCLAIMER] don't know, don't own. fiction
[AUTHOR'S NOTES] This is for Jules.[lemmethink_nooo] for her request If you'd like to ask any of my characters a question, do it here. If you'd like to request a fic. Go to my PROMPT TABLE Title is credited to Walt Whitman.
[PREVIOUS]
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.[1]
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me![2]
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;[3]
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose[4]
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things, at all hours of the day;[5]
The simple, compact, well-join’d scheme—myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated, yet part of the scheme:[6]
The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;[7]
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings—on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;[8]

--------------------------------------
The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;[9]

Cocaine And New Glasses [1/3-ish??]

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 01:17:40 GMT

Title: Cocaine And New Glasses
Author: idle_graffito
Rating: PG for now
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons
POV: Third
Summary: Mikey will let Pete talk until he only has one thing left to say, which he never actually says, not to Mikey, at least. Only to the empty phone line long after Mikey’s hung up and the dial tone is going off like an air raid siren in Pete’s ear, warning of the salty carpetbombing to come, his treacherous eyes the RAF over the Dresden architecture of his cheekbones in February of 1945.
Disclaimer: fake liek whoa. Title a line from the film Bent.
Author's Notes: takes place in autumn of 2005 or something. tried to keep it more fact-based than a lot of my other stuff but artistic liberties have been taken to fill up the many blanks in my knowledge. for the insidestories prompt on 11 november, and the we_are_cities prompt on 7 november.

( Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he goes out onto the balcony of his hotel room and wonders if he and Mikey are looking at the same star. )

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 05:44:13 GMT

I posted this to some general bandom comms yesterday but since I just joined this comm tonight... Apologies if you've seen it before. :D

title: awake and unafraid
author: audrarose
pairing: bandom, mikey/pete
words: 1700
disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction.
summary: Summer of Like, Mikey/Pete first time.
notes: for turps33. thanks for the prompt, sweetie. *hugs*

awake and unafraid

An introduction + an odd request

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 21:56:45 GMT

Good evening ladies and gents ^_____^

I finally gathered all my courage and joined this community and I have a weird request :)

I love to write, esp. in English (it's my third language) but I'm a very lazy writer. Also, English isn't my mother language so I make a lot of mistakes, mostly conjunctions and sayings.
What I need/love to find is a person who would want to not only beta my work, but also to encourage me to finish my work, and to give me advise to make my work more interesting, and in general better. I already have half of my first chapter finished, but I'm not sure it's good enough to post...

Liefs,

prinsesprieel aka yourmom.

Codependency

Sun, 19 Aug 2007 21:30:04 GMT

Title: Codependency
Summary: The rise and fall of interelated relationships (PetexMikey)
Rating: PG
2PV Pete
Notes: Uses several lyrics from Fall Out Boy's album "Infinity On High," which I'm sure you'll recognize :)

You name drew more attention in the industry than your very person, but falling from her lips, it sounded pointless.

My Archive

Pete/Mikey, Coal Spiders

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 20:28:49 GMT

Pete/Mikey, Coal Spiders
1069 words, PG
Inspired by Robyn's ''Be Mine''
Beta and more inspiration: turnyourankle <3333

December 8th and the grin is the same...