In this reality...

One in Every Port

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 14:35:09 GMT

Title: One in Every Port
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: The Academy Is...
Pairing: N/A
Genre(s): short silliness
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This is not true. I don't claim that it is. This was done for silly, silly fun.
Summary: Rock stars are not known for their morals...

Author's Note: This was inspired by that beautiful picspam that dandylionsgirl. It was wonderful. It just took me a long time to post. And to write. Oh well.

Rock stars are not known for their morals, some might go as far as to say that they were known for the complete opposite. And yes, maybe that was true- a different groupie every night, a new drug or drink all the time… But Sisky doesn’t like to think about that. He doesn’t like to think about how, technically, he was cheating. Sisky knew it. It haunted him in his dreams and during those vulnerable early morning moments. During the day he pushes the thought out of his head, or he tries to at least. But still, during those rare, quiet times the voice came and whispered- though Adam swore it was a shout- “Cheater.”

Cheater.

Yes, the word haunted him. It only seemed to get worse when the guys would talk about how faithful he was. The shame pumped him through his veins, from his heart to his head to his toes. Shame. Cheater. Love. It all hurt so much.

But still, as the band pulled into a new city, Sisky would scan the streets until he spots a perfect candidate.

As he walks through the door, orders and takes the first bite, he knows that it’s cheating but at that moments it’s all okay. He still loves Chicago pizza the best and he’ll always go back to it.

Plastically Pornographic

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 18:44:23 GMT

Title: Plactically Pornographic (Or, Like You Never Made Your Barbie's Have Sex...)
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Fallout Boy
Pairing: Pete/Patrick, plastic!Andy/plastic!Joe
Genre(s): crack, pure ridiculous
Rathing: PG, I tihnk
Disclaimer: Like a long time ago they stopped that whole slavery thing. The UN was all like "No" and now you don't own people. It's awesome.
Summary: Pete plays with dolls and Patrick plays with action figures. Hijinks ensue.

Author's Notes: So, about three, maybe more don't know, years ago I fell into bandom. I was mostly a Harry Potter fan-dork and I also was way too in love with the Libertines. Then I read my first Peterick story. And all went to hell from there. But when I first started I wrote this silly silly fic. I just found it and I present it to you for your enjoyment. It really is pure ridiculousness.

Peter, really unsurprisingly, plays with dolls. He’s a very on the childish side of things and very, very girly. So, when one thinks about it, it comes as no surprise that he does. Similarly, when one thinks about it, it does not come as a surprise that Patrick joins in; although, he does call then ‘action figures.’

When Pete plays with his dolls all Patrick thinks is “how does he make them bend like that?”

When Patrick plays with his action figures Pete only thinks “Forget the plot! Give me porn!”

Sure, they differ in opinions and playing styles but somehow they make it work.

On one particularly note worthy occasion Pete and Patrick were sitting in their living room playing…

“Okay. I call the Patrick and Pete dolls. You can have everyone else,” Pete said as they rummaged through the toy bin.

“I’ll take everyone else,” Patrick replied, “as long as you don’t make us have sex the whole time. Little Plastic Patrick wants to save the world today.”

“Okay, fine. But then I want the Joe and Andy dolls… and don’t make me your sidekick! It’s completely unbelievable.”

“I would never!” Patrick cried. “You’re the damsel in distress! Duh!”

On that note they ended their discussion and went to play. Patrick locked the Pete action figure in a tower so the Patrick action figure could save him. Pete made the Joe and Andy action figures fuck. A lot.

Now this would all be honky dory and slightly normal if you were not aware of Joe and Andy’s whereabouts at that exact time.

That morning Joe and Andy woke up in separate beds, in separate apartments, in different parts of town. Normally they met up for lunch then they would go about their business, but not today. Today a voice from heaven told Joe to go to Andy’s apartment and relax. Joe, never being one to deny Yahweh, hitchhiked his way over. Andy, being slightly more reasonable and much less inclined to listen to voices from heaven, merely thought, ‘hmm, let’s hang out with Joe today. I should invite him over.’

They went to Andy’s, which conveniently sits right next PeteAndPatrick’s. Now while Pete played with dolls and Patrick positioned his action figures Joe and Andy watched Star Wars.

Suddenly, just as Luke hit the fire button to blow up the Death Star, Andy jumped up. He became rigid, almost plastic to the touch. And, just as he was about to voice his concerns, Joe was pulled up by some invisible force and mimicked the stiff demeanor. Then, as if by magic, he hopped forward, feet together, as an arm raised. His fingers seemed joined together at the seams and his elbows stayed locked in one position. And just when it could not possibly get any weirder Joe spoke. But it was definitely not his voice.

“Andy” a high pitched noise that sounded curiously like Pete said, “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it Joe?” This too sounded like Pete, but like Pete when he tried to make his voice sound at least a little manly and mature.

As the words fell out of Andy’s mouth, his stiff arm rose and touched Joe’s… kind of. Their palms faced up, hands unable to bend at the knuckles and fingers unable to intertwine. The Joe spoke again.

“Andy! I love you! But you could never love me! You’re in love with that devilishly handsome poet rock god Pete Wentz!”

“Joe!” Andy’s voice squeaked. “Although I agree with how amazing Pete is, I don’t love him as much as I love you! Plus! He is hopelessly in love with Patrick and is going to have little musical geniuses with him!”

“Truly Andy? You Love me more?”

“Yes Joe! Now shut up and do me!”

Then, still by the strange magic, their clothes came off. They hopped together, Andy’s hands almost on Joe’s shoulders and Joe’s hands not quite touching Andy’s hips. Their heads pressed together, noses in the way. No tongue, just not really there pressure as they kisses.

It sucked.

Joe’s pelvic region started to jerk back and forth wildly.

Suddenly, just as it started, they fell to the ground unceremoniously. They end up, bodies connected, just thinking ‘All we wanted was a cuddle!’ when they heard Patrick’s voice from next door.

“Pete stop! You can’t take your action figure! Secret Agent Stump has to save Pete <3 from the evil MikeyWay!”

“But Patrick,” was Pete’s whiney reply. “Joe and Andy are boring and not realistic at all!”

“…Pete. They’ve been going out for years.”

“So?”

“You still can’t take the Pete and Patrick action figures. Go find others to play with.”

So Pete rummaged around again in the toy bin.

“Hey Patrick!” He called out. “Where’s the Gerard and Frank dolls?”

“Um… in the Barbie hot tub... Agent Iero, Frank is seducing the evil MikeyWay’s brother so he can help Secret Agent Stump save you. I would have had the Agents Bryar and Toro do it but they are totally killing the zombie army right now.”

“Huh. The hot tub you say…”

[Somewhere in Skanky North Jersey]

“So Gerard… you come here naked often?”

Gerard simply attacked Frank and they made odd plastic porn together.

[Back Somewhere Else]

So from then on, when Pete played with his dolls and Patrick played with his action figures, Joe and Andy played too, but only because Pete never got it right.

The Ridiculous End.

To Be Titled

Thu, 28 May 2009 04:12:16 GMT

Title: To Be Titled
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, Mysteriously Floating Crown/Magical Pointy Hat
Genre(s): crack!fic
Rating: PG-13 Warnings for crack!pairings and ridiculousness
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by Shine and the BBC. I do not pretend that I own the characters used in this work of fiction.
Summary: The Mysteriously Floating Crown has a plan to get the girl and to make Arthur less of an idiot... hopefully.

Life was very hard for Arthur's mysteriously floating Crown. All day long he sat atop Arthur's blond head, waiting to catch a glimpse of his one true love. But anytime Merlin, and that beautiful pointed Hat that accompanies him, comes by Arthur says something to make Merlin, and his glowing cap that shines with all the stars in heaven and makes the moon jealous of her beauty, runs away leaving the Crown alone with the nincompoop for company. He never even gets to say hello!

That is when Arthur's mysteriously floating Crown formed a plan... well, less of a plan and more of a "Fall off Arthur's Head and See What Happens".

He would win the fair maiden's heart... and maybe make Arthur stop being an idiot... Maybe.

-

It was early in the morning, much too early for a hungover Arthur to be up, when the Crown had an opportunity to put his "plan" into motion.

An extremely drunk Arthur had climbed the stairs to Merlin's chambers the night before and the Crown just... fell... to the floor. Arthur was too drunk to notice and now he was too hungover to go looking for it.

It was the perfect time to talk to the Hat.

-

Arthur had wanted something a little stronger than wine that night- something (and maybe some one) to help him forget about his fight with Merlin, again.

The fight had been over something stupid and trivial like always, but Arthur had to pick a fight anyway. He just had to. He had to keep Merlin away. He could not stand to be in the same room as him. It made him feel dirty and definitely not in a good way.

The drink went straight to Arthur's head, his limbs felt heavy and his vision blurred. Arthur rose to his feet with a slight stumble. He made his way to the foot of Merlin's tower.

Slowly, very very slowly, he made his way up the steps. The stone barely registered under his feet. He felt like he was floating up and up and up to Merlin's chambers. And when he finally reached the top, he pushed his way through the wooden door and just entered, walking through the main lounge into the private inner chambers.

-

The Crown was buzzing with excitement. Lying just three feet away was the Hat in all her heavenly glorious beauty, even though she was rumpled and slumped on the floor. The Crown hoped he was presentable when he shyly said "hello." She smiled back. "Hi."

-

They hit it off amazingly. She admitted that she always wanted to talk to him too, though she also admitted that she hadn't the foggiest idea why, but Merlin never wanted to stick around long.

"He always wants to be around him, you can't be on his head and not know that," the Hat said, "but he's just so stubborn. Never listens to reason that one."

"We have to do something about it Hat," the Crown said after a moment or two of silence as they surveyed the war torn room.

"We really, really do."

"It's okay though. I have a plan."

"Does it involve dropping off Arthur's head and hoping something good comes from it?"

"...ummm... Maybe?"

"Or does it involve dropping an anvil onto their heads and hoping it knocks sense into them?"

"...ummm..."

"Or does your plan have us doing things that only things with arms and fingers could do?

"Yes. We need arms."

"Like the ones we don't have?"

"...RIght."

The Hat sighed, "It's okay. I'll think of something."

-

Merlin knew it was a bad idea, he always knew it was a bad idea, but he just could not say no as Arthur pulled him in close and kissed him. There was passion in the sloppy kiss. Arthur pulled at Merlin's shirt, tugging it up and over Merlin's head. As Merlin's hands found the laces on Arthur's tunic he hoped that this one time, maybe Arthur would remember.

-

Arthur had little control over his body as he knocked Merlin's pointy Hat off. He had no real thoughts beyond "Merlin", "skin", "want", and "more". He did not even realize his crown went clattering to the ground. He just walked, pushing Merlin the whole way until the bed was at the back of Merlin's knees. They went tumbling down, fighting each other the whole way. And when they both finally found release Arthur stood up, got dressed and stumbled back to his own room.

He never noticed the absence of his mysteriously floating Crown, or the look of despair on Merlin's face.

-

The Crown really had no idea how to help right this terrible wrong. He just did not know how to make Arthur admit that he loved Merlin. It seemed completely hopeless.

Thank goodness the Hat was there.

"Instead of making Arthur admit on his own," she said patiently, "why don't we get Merlin to confront Arthur?"

"But how are we going to do that?"

"Magic, obviously." Her voice held that 'I am surrounded by idiots' tone, she gave a long suffering sigh before she continued. "I am, after all, a magical pointy hat."

-

The Hat did a spell of some kind. The Crown was paying no mind to that, instead he focused on the way the Hat changed from a stunning sky blue to a shiny gold color and back again when she did magic. He thought of nothing else but her beauty.

Five minutes later Arthur came storming in, yelling on the top of his lungs.

"Where did you put my floaty Crown you sticky fingered bastard!"

When Merlin heard the noise he entered the room. He wore a deadly look on his face; he looked ready for murder.

"An angry!Merlin," the Hat said, "is the only thing Arthur fears."

She was right. Merlin looked dangerous and Arthur was cowering.

In a deadly calm voice, with faint traces of steel, Merlin addressed Arthur.

"I did not take your Crown. You left it here as you ran out of the room after you fucked me! This happens all the time and I am not putting up with it anymore! Either you admit you have feelings for me and you stop being a complete prat. Or, I am leaving Camelot forever and you have to find a new toy to play with."

Arthur's response was "fuck."

So Merlin started packing up his things into a singular, tiny trunk. While this happened the Crown mourned the loss of his one true love that he had just found. The Hat just bitched to the heavens and the old magic that she was cursed to be around such stupid boys.

Finally Arthur decided it was a good idea to say something.

"Merlin... You can't go. I need you here."

"You need me here?" Merlin's tone was incredulous.

"Yes I need you here. You keep me sane ans humble and I don't like you when I'm trashed."

"What the bloody hell Arthur!"

"I mean that it's not only when I am drunk that I like you. I always like you... Please, stop unpacking.

"...Okay."

And so Merlin unpacked and then was ravished by Arthur.

The Hat and the Crown finally had some alone time.

There is now tiny, mysteriously floating pointy hat-crowns all over Camelot.

The Crown, Merlin and Arthur cannot wait until there are tiny princes (or princesses) magicians to wear the tiny, mysteriously floating pointy hat-crowns.

The Hat is still amazed by the idiocy of the boys who surround her.

The End.

Walk

Mon, 18 May 2009 21:40:26 GMT

Title: Walk
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: N/A
Pairing: N/A
Rating: G
Genre(s): Fantasy
Disclaimer: N/A
Summary: 'Dreams are beautiful things.'
Author's Note: This is a piece of original fiction. And although it was not written for her, this makes me think of Julie the most wonderful fake gf ever. So this is for juliewhat. I love her. May continue though right now I don't know how.

The scene was typical for a dream, all blurred edges and surrealism. The sky was purple and the fields were yellow, but more gold, actually shimmering gold. The grass was a statue, the sky was a painting and this was how someone wished reality was.

‘Dreams are beautiful things.’

The purple sky had swirls of blue and greens, twisting and turning, mixing and separating in turn. Black slashes, birds supposing, streaked across, adding darker hues to the sight in front. Silhouetted against the ever changing sky and the rigid life of the grass gold was a girl. The girl was plain, dressed in plain colors with plain features. Her hair was dull, her eyes held no sparkle. Were it not for the slow rise/fall of her chest she could have been dead. She was plain. She was normal. She was nothing.

That was really what made the girl so spectacular: in the mist of all this beauty, of all this life, of all the abnormality there was this girl who is nothing like the dreams she imagined.

Her dead eyes stared at nowhere.

“You don’t belong here,” the girl said, for the first time addressing the dark figure in front of her. “You were never here before. You’re too dark. You don’t belong here.”

“I know,” the dark blur said, the voice like a thousand whispers, none seemingly addressed in the girl’s direction.

“Well then,” the girl’s eyes tried to focus on the figure, but her gaze seemed to slide every time she almost focused. “I am Drowning. You aren’t. How did you get here? You aren’t Drowning…”

The whispers said things, in too many tones, too many voices, in too many dead languages. They seemed to be arguing, the whispers growing in volume and growing venomous in intent. They ebbed and flowed, waxed and waned, the words like an invisible current taking the tide, when finally one voice- the voice of a small boy- came out the loudest. It was confused and halted but loudest none the less.

“Walk. A dreamwalk. The walk. I… he… she… walk. Yes, I am Walk. I am a Walk. That is what I did.”

The he (maybe they) was (were) gone.

This Is Not How It Happened

Wed, 06 May 2009 21:14:48 GMT

Series: This Is Not How It Happened
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: The Killers
Pairings: Brandon/Dave
Disclaimer: I do not own the people mentioned in this tiny peice of fiction, I promise. There may be a Bible quote and a line from Jizz In My Pants there too...
Summary: This is not how they met...

Title: New and Scary
Genre(s): kid!fic, fluff, drabble
Rating: G

First grade was just so different from Kindergarten. It wasn’t as bright. There wasn’t naptime. Playtime was shorter and they had to learn. Brandon did not like this at all.

He looked at Mr. Marr, his teacher, a little frightened. He didn’t know if he’d be as nice as Mrs. Benet was. He looked nice, but you can never be too sure about these types of things. He was talking about spelling quizzes so he couldn’t be that nice.

Brendon had no friends in this class. He was really nervous. This new school was different and he wasn’t sure anyone would like him. He had his Lucky doll with him and he was wearing his favorite pair of cowboy boots, so the first day of school couldn’t be bad.

But they made fun of his boots and they called him a girl for carrying around a doll. They were mean. They were really, really mean.

By the end of lunch Brandon was crying in the bathroom. He sat in the corner of the last stale. He was sniffling and clutching Lucky doll to his tiny chest.

Brendon heard the door open and small footsteps came towards him. He tried really hard to hold in his breathe and not make any noise but a sniffle came anyway.

The stall opened and a kid with blond fluffy hair came in. He kneeled next to Brandon and wiped the tears away.

“My mommy always says that you don’t want meanies like that to be your friends,” he said very decidedly.

“But,” Brandon sniffled again. “I have no friends at all!”

“Yes you do. I’m Dave. I’ll be your friend. I sit across the room from you. I tried to find you at lunch but you weren’t there! I want to be your friend.”

“But why?”

“Because you are nice and pretty, and you have really cool boots.”

“You like them?”

“Yeah! They’re awesome! I have a pair just like them!”

“Really? And you aren’t gonna call me a girl because I have a doll?”

“Of course not! Dolls are cool anyway. Hey! Let’s get out of the bathroom and play in the classroom during recess!”

“I’d love to Davey.”

“Ok. Let’s go Brandon. We can play house. And neither of us has to be a girl!”

First grade in a new school was so much more different than kindergarten at his old school, but Brandon thought that maybe it would only get better.

Title: As The Rhythms Boom
Genre(s): what the fuck?!, drabble, if I could write sex then it would be? (I really don't know this genre... oops)
Rating: PG-13

The bar was crowded that night due to the DJ and the dimmed lights. The music could be heard all the way down the street at the Church of the Latter Day Saints. They were probably praying for all those souls living in sin. This was, after all, a gay bar.

Dave was dancing to the beat of some shitty remix of some shitty song.

‘Gods, I am not drunk enough for this.’

He was just about to leave the dance floor when a boy, he really looked like a boy, came up to him and started dancing with him. After just one look Dave knew he couldn’t say no.

The boy was beautiful, all done up like a tart with heavy eye-liner and tinted lip-gloss. His hair was dark and curly, though not as wild as Dave’s own. His black pants were obscenely tight. Sweat dripped from his neck under his shirt and Dave wanted to follow it all the way down.

‘Damn this boy is beautiful.’

And so they danced. They escaped into their own world. They touched each other and gasped into the other’s neck, neither of them brave enough to dare a kiss. They licked and sucked and moved together. The heavy bass was the only thing from the outside world that they were aware of.

They danced, caught the other’s eye.

“Want to get out of here.” The lust in the boy’s eyes left Dave wanting even more.

“Yeah. My place. I’ll drive.”

They continued once they got to Dave’s house, it was if they never stopped. They moved and rocked in a steady rhythm, all while losing themselves in the other.

In the morning Dave made waffles and coffee before the boy woke up.

The boy walked into the room with a smile on his face and his hair completely tousled. The only thing out of the ordinary was his fully dressed state.

“I had a good time. Thanks for breakfast too… though I don’t drink coffee. It was a nice thought.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“I really wish I could, but I have to go to church. One of the other pastors can’t make it…”

“... Pastor?”

“Yeah... Thanks again! It was great,” he yelled as he rushed out the door. “By the way my name is Brandon!”

Title: Praise The Lord For He Is Gloriously Triumphant
Genre(s): drabble
Rating: G (for God)

Sunday was a relaxing day. Sitting in the cool dim lights and glowing stained glass of the chapel. It was beautiful and reflective- just as a place of worship should be. Brandon sat close to the middle symbolizing his position in the church. He had been there long enough to claim a seat in the front (really, no one under 65 years had been there long enough to earn that). Though, neither was he new to the parish or a visitor, then he would be sitting quietly in the back. He kept his eyes on god and praised him through verse and refrain.

A new man sat in the back. His blue eyes focused on another man near the center. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. From this view there was nothing truly remarkable about him, maybe the man in the middle could be considered attractive but he did not notice. The only thing that he did notice was the man’s voice: how wonderful it was. He did not sing with too much finesse but he had passion. One day the blue eyed man was going to approach him and ask him to start a band, but not yet. He would not ask until the man could look away from God and turn around to notice him.

The Flame, The Sword

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 06:04:15 GMT

Title: The Flame, The Sword
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ablus/Gellert
Genre(s): angst
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this little work of fiction. I do not own the lyrics used for the summary, they are from 'Stars' from Les Miserables. The cut is from "Pioneer to the Fall" by Interpol.
Summary: You may fall as Lucifer fell...

It was peaceful, in that dark and empty way that tore at the soul and left it broken. It was quiet, though unnaturally so. It won’t remain quiet for long. The sounds of sorrow are much too great to hold in. The screams will start soon, those blood curdling screams. They will start soon, once realization has hit.

This is punishment. This is hell.

There’s a poetic justice in living in the prison you created. You put up each stone, each brick, laid the mortar yourself. But you lose the battle and the prison you build to keep your enemies becomes your new home

It’s poetic. I’m sure that’s why you did it.

The fall consisted of three main parts.

There was the betrayal and loss. The battle raged and all of heaven split. God looked at his light bearer with love and regret. He had betrayed his master, had thought him higher. He rebelled. He had to pay the price.

Then there was the physical fall. The decent towards Earth was long and torturous. All that time to think as Lucifer fell through Chaos, the sheer power of something so uncontrollable hitting him, giving to him then taking away all in the space of forever and never at all.

Finally there was the landing, the soft thud that echoed nowhere because there were no other ears around to hear. There was the pain of, for the first time in all of Lucifer’s existence, being separated from God, from the rest of himself. His better nature, his ability to love, the only one he loved was far away in a Heaven he could no longer see from his Hell.

There was a betrayal. A betrayal of all the things we thought and felt and believed. We believed in the Greater Good. We believed in our power. We believed in our love.

There was the fall. I left. It tore at the remaining shards of my soul. But I knew it was your entire fault. You chose them over me. You thought that you could be whole without me. You were wrong. I know it. I know how much it pains you, not to be able to feel my hands on your skin. I know how much you yearn for my body next to yours. ~~I know it because I feel it too.~~

There was the landing. I knew that we would always be apart. I knew it was all your choosing. You actively spoke out against me. You hide all of our history. Because of this, know that we could never be reunited again.

And so Lucifer became the antithesis of what he once was. He became darkness, he became temptation. His name was spoken only in the darkest corners, in the deepest pits. He became something feared. He brought others into his way of thinking. He turned good people into sinners. He forced them to fall through swords into flames.

I built up an army of like-minded individuals. I showed everyone the truth behind my thoughts. And you fought me the entire way. You begged me and you pleaded. You were weak, hiding on your island. It would have been beautiful, to see you on your knees in front of me, begging for my forgiveness.

I built a tower on my prison. It had the loveliest view. It was gilded and golden. And it was all for you.

You finally came to meet me. By sword and through fire you won. You saw me break at your feet.

I didn’t know what happened next. I was numb. It was dark. Whatever soul remained in me was torn. I was half destroyed. It was silent, but not for long. There is poetic justice in my place in the hell I built for you.

This is punishment. This is hell.

A Human Creation

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 03:22:35 GMT

Title: A Human Creation
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Albus/Gellert
Genre(s): fluff, dialogue only
Rating: PG- slight, very slight, language
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story. They are not my creation and I do not plan on making any money off of them. This is purely for fun.
Summary: Some people meet and talk... and light shines from all orifices.
Dedication: z0MG!!!!1111! ROOMIE! I LOVE YOU! <333333333 For lilyginnyblack ... who has nothing on her account, don't bother looking.

“Really Albus, what took you so long? I feel like I’ve been waiting here forever.”

“Gellert, don’t be silly. There’s no way it was ‘forever’ you know that time is simply a human creation.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve been missing you too much. Why did you take so long? The train was supposed to leave at exactly…”

“I had to talk to Harry, you know that.”

“I am still angry.”

“I know you are. But your anger is not directed at me.”

“I hate how you are always right.”

“No you don’t.”

“Hate... But, really you are right. It’s too damn bright up here. I swear there is light shining from everywhere here. I think I even see light coming out of butts.”

“You know that this heaven is just a representation of what you think it should look like. So, you think heaven shines from people’s asses?”

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“If I did then you wouldn’t love me.”

“Albus, for once you are wrong. I would love you no matter what. I would love you from one end of eternity to the other. I would love you forever, even if you didn’t bother the hell out of me.”

“Well, that certainly explains why you’re here.”

“… Well we all know I certainly don’t love you for your humor.”

“I know. I’d love you forever too.”

“Now Albus, you know time is simply a human creation.”

“Don’t smirk at me. But it is true, it’s merely a human creation, so is love, as a matter of fact.”

“Now that’s nonsense. Love is divine. I know it’s true because you are divine and you are love. That is logic even you can’t argue.”

“It’s true.”

“I know it is.”

I'll See Your Heart and I'll Raise You Mine

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 23:15:43 GMT

Title: I'll See Your Heart and I'll Raise You Mine
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Fallout Boy
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Genre(s): fluff, pure cuteness
Rathing: G
Disclaimer: I do not own the song this story is based on (and the title and cut), that is by Bell X1. I do not own the characters insinuated in this work of fiction.
Summary: There's poker in the Garden of Eden...

The song can be found here:
www.mediafire.com/

There is a garden in a place called Paradise, a place once inhabited, though now abandoned, by humans for somewhere better. This garden in this place called Paradise is easy to find if your soul knows where to look. This Paradise, being easy to find, is often inhabited by the spirits beings, the angels the devils. In this garden, if you were to look, there was a devil sitting and eating a fruit, a pomegranate actually.

The devil did not see me though I could see every detail about him and his surroundings perfectly. There were instruments scattered all throughout the garden- guitars and congas, trumpets and tubas. The garden was decorated with paper lanterns from Japan, crystals from Russia and glittering white holiday lights. There in the middle of the wonderland sat a table and two chairs.

The table was wooden and plain but made with obvious skill and care. The wood was light and dark at the same time, depending on how you looked. The chairs were ornate and contrasting- light wood- light wood and white on one chair and dark wood with black on the other. There was a chess board on the table, looking old and forgotten. Sitting right next to it was a deck of simple, human playing cards.

The devil was lounging under a tree, snake playing at his feet. His face was anxious, waiting, with shifty eyes that had a nervous twitch. His body feigned a relax nature. All his limbs, clad in dark clothes of human make, were loose. They were sprawled in all directions, languid. His only movement was the motion of his hand, with his fruit, to his mouth so he could chew.

He looked like everything you’d imagine a devil to look like. He was dark in a pale way- tanned from the sun and burnt for the fires of his home. His hair was dark and long- falling into his eyes, hiding mischief and lies deep within him. I recognized his clothes, the tight black jeans and dark hoodies just like everyone I had known back on Earth.

I hear a sound, I wasn’t sure what it was, but I ducked under a mulberry bush anyway. It wouldn’t have been good if a devil saw me there. I never saw the other man enter. Yet, when I looked up he was there, the angel.

The angel had three pairs of wings that towered over his tiny frame. He was a seraph, a member of the highest choir of angels. His halo hung so daintily above his head. He looked fragile and on his way to breaking. Where the devil was dark the angel was light. His hair was blond and his skin was pale. He too wore human clothing though his jeans and hoodies combination was light washed and white. On top of his head sat a trucker hat, illuminated by his halo.

He walked towards the table and sat in his chair. He cut the deck and shuffled the cards the he said,

“Place your bet.”

I could see and hear them but they never noticed me. They were too caught up in each other’s gaze.

The devil threw away his fruit, kept his gaze on something so much sweeter. He too took his seat. He speared no glance at the chessboard or the cards. He kept his gaze on the angel sitting across from him. He said,

“I bet my better nature.”

The cards were dealt. There was the flop. The angel looked at his cards and said,

“I bet my fragile heart.”

The devil checked. Then there was the turn and the river and delight in the devil’s eyes. He brought his hand to his chest underneath his hoodies, and pulled. As his hand drew back I could see a tattered and torn heart. It was bandaged and sown back together, though it barely stayed intact. He said,

“I’ll see your heart and I raise you mine.”

The angel checked. They showed their cards. The angel had three kings and the devil had a royal flush.

The devil looked at his heart, lying on the table of light and dark. He said,

“You can keep it, please just take care of it.”

The angel replied,

“I will for always and a day.”

And they kept their eyes locked on each other. They never noticed the chessboard as the white knight took the black king. And then I silently slipped away; I kept my eyes averted from the private scene and made my way to heaven.

Down in Albion: I'll Take You to... Anywhere in Albion

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 04:23:19 GMT

Title: Down in Albion: I'll Take You to... Anywhere in Albion
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Genre(s): Drabble, fluff
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this short story. They are owned by BBC and Shine. I do not own the song and words used in the title. I am pretty sure Pete Doherty/Babyshambles still owns them.
Summary: I'll take you anywhere.

The song, again:
www.mediafire.com/

“I’ll take you anywhere,” Arthur said as Merlin helped him get ready for bed. “I’ll take you anywhere in all of Albion if you ever asked. I’d do anything for you, if you only asked. You do know that, right?”

Merlin replied very quietly, in an awed voice. “I don’t know why you would do that for me. I’m no one really. I’m just a servant, and a bad one at that.”

“Merlin, you have no idea how special you are. You aren’t just anyone. You are special, to me and to everyone we know.”

“Now that’s just silly. I’m not special in my own right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that by myself I am nothing. It’s just that makes me special Arthur, that’s it.”

“Now that is ridiculous.”

“Whatever you say Sir, I’m sure you are right. And thank you Arthur, but you never don’t have to take me anywhere in Albion.”

“Okay, now I don’t understand.”

“If you are going there then I’m following. You don’t have to ‘take’ me because I’m going anyway… Really, you couldn’t survive without me... you’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

“…That’s just stupid. Merlin really, why are you such a imbecile?”

“…Why are you such a prat?”

“You’re in the stocks tomorrow.”

“Good, I haven’t visited for a while… I think the children miss me.”

All through Arthur’s chambers a smack echoed off the stone walls… but it was totally affectionate.

The Chinese Room

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 04:11:43 GMT

Title: The Chinese Room
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Genre(s): angst, drabble
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not pretend to own Gerard Way or any of the other characters mentioned in this piece of fiction. These events never happened.
Summary: There’s no comprehension, you’re just going through the motions.

[There’s no comprehension, you’re just going through the motions… There’s no comprehension, you’re just going through the motions… You’re just going…]

It was different than usual. The world looked unreal here, a little more vivid than usual, a little too blurry to be real. It was beautiful. This world had so much more beauty than I had seen in a while. The colors of the crowd blended together and the world spun but it only enhanced. There was a liveliness running through me that I had not felt in years, not since I was young and in love with the world. This world I could very easily fall in love with.

Waking up was a little more difficult though. Seeing Mikey’s face was not a highlight of my day, though seeing Bert’s… yes I loved that. I couldn’t really understand everything as well as I used to but that was okay, things I never understood now made perfect sense. I had reached nirvana and the ultimate enlightenment and met Jesus all within the same mouthful. And I loved every moment of it.

I couldn’t love in the same way I used to. I couldn’t love Frank anymore, not the way he wanted me too. But that was okay too, there was something to love me. It never yelled back and it never made me sad. It loved me. It made my life more exciting. It made breathing an experience. It made the lights of the stage dim and glowing and a thousand contradictions in a single second. It led me to true beauty. I saw the beauty in the world. I wanted to touch the world. I wanted to love the world and I wanted it to love me too. Oh, it very much did.

Frank yelled at me more. Frank screamed at me and he said things to me and it made me love it more. Mikey never said a word. He just looked at me. It could have been sad but I don’t know. It made Ray and Matt’s fights nonexistent. It made the world pretty again. And I loved it.

Frank yelled at me. He told me that this wasn’t living. He said to me, yes he said, “Gerard you aren’t living. You aren’t anything. There is no comprehension is there? No, you’re just going through the motions. Go on Gerard. Go through the motions until there’s nothing more to go through, until you and I aren’t here anymore. I promise you, one of us won’t be here for long.”

It was different than usual. The world looked unreal, vivid and bright and not like my whole life was dying in front of my dilated eyes.

[There’s no comprehension in the Chinese room. Your body is just going through the motions, never really thinking, just following simple rules to get through the questions. There’s no comprehension, you’re just going through the motions… There’s no comprehension, you’re just going through the motions… You’re just going… And you’re gone.]

Fuck You NJ Transit

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 04:02:29 GMT

Title: Fuck You NJ Transit (Or, Why Mikey Should Never Be Allowed to Travel Alone)
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: N/A
Genre(s): silly, drabble
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Mikey Way. That’d be cool though. I am not affiliated with NJ transit, though I am made at them for mislabeling their trains. I am now three hours behind on my journey back to school… that should only take an hour and a half.
Summary: Mikey should pay attention sometimes.

It’s not really Mikey’s fault when you look at it. It’s all damn NJ Transit and their shitty-ness, that is who should be blamed. No one believes him though. They miss labeled the trains and instead of going to Newark he ended up… somewhere with a shit-load of trees… There was no way in hell he was still in Jersey.

He could hear his mom right then. “Mikey,” she’d say, “you need to pay attention to the world around you. Everything does not revolve around your phone and your headphones. There are some strange people in the world, you have to be careful.”

He could hear Gerard too. “Mikey,” he’d say, “you should explore the world around you, you never know what you’ll see or who you’ll meet. There are some strange people in the world, you should meet them all.”

He could hear Frank in his head. “Mikey,” he’d say, “You are a dumbass.”

He looked around at the trees and the fields and the fucking… cows?

He crossed the train tracks, went on to the other platform and waited for his new train as his fingers flew across the keypad and 80s hair metal blasted through his head phones… he’d get back eventually.

Down in Albion: But We Don't Talk About That

Sat, 11 Apr 2009 22:00:45 GMT

Title: Down in Albion: But We Don't Talk About That
Author:ne0n_sun
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Genre(s): Drabble, fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this short story. They are owned by BBC and Shine. I do not own the song and words used in the title. I am pretty sure Pete Doherty/Babyshambles still owns them.
Summary: It is banned. It is illegal. It is abhorent.

The song again:
www.mediafire.com/

It is banned. It is illegal. It is abhorrent and Arthur cannot bring himself to care. He is happy. Merlin is happy. This is all that matters to Arthur- their happiness. There is nothing extreme, just closeness (and a few kisses) that could be looked at two ways: It could be shrugged off or it could be questioned. They are always together, always loyal. Everyone put it down to Merlin doing his duty as a servant, to him protecting his prince. For Arthur everyone writes it off as a sign of his potential to be a great and virtuous king.

It is banned and they never really speak about it. To Arthur there is nothing to talk about- they love each other. Merlin does not talk about it because Arthur does not. Merlin realizes that if it is said out loud it would be too real: to say the words is to acknowledge that it is not allowed. Merlin fears Arthur changing his mind. The fear is very real. He knows what happens if they are found out. It’s the same thing that would happen if anyone found out about his magic.

So they exist as they have always, and will always, exist. They will hold each other at night and protect each other under the sun’s harsh rays. They will keep their mouths shut and their hearts open. It is banned and it is illegal and it is abhorrent but not for long. Once Arthur is king it will be legal again, that magic called love will be allowed for all.

The Moon and The Stars

Sat, 11 Apr 2009 19:55:31 GMT

Title: The Moon and The Stars
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Genre(s): fluff, dialogue only
Rating: G
Disclaimser: I do not own the characters used in this story. They are own by J.K. Rowling and the WB and about a million other companies...
Summary: Sirius explains a thought.

“Some things are just made for each other, you know?”

“Yeah I think I know.”

“Just some things are destined to be together... like just… when you think of one thing the other thing automatically pops into your head.”

“Like ‘Sirius’ and ‘idiot’.”

“No. I was thinking more like ‘Snivellus’ and ‘grease ball’.”

“Sirius, can you please just lay off? Just ignore him and stop bringing him up.”

“No I can’t Remy. I can’t ignore him. I don’t know how you could ignore him! Not with the way he treats you… even how he treats Evans. It just isn’t right.”

“He has his reasons for the way he acts.”

“You cannot be defending him! He’s…”

“… Siri stop. Please just stop. I was having a nice time lying out under the stars, talking to you. It was nice, don’t ruin it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Tell me more about your ‘destined’ thing, though I’m pretty sure you’re using the wrong word.”

“Hush you. I was having a perfectly nice time and you go and insult me. Okay, I promise not to bring up Snape. No you have to promise not to correct me or make fun of me. I’m not as brilliant as you are.”

“I could try but I can’t really promise you anything. You know my most favorite thing to do is make fun of you.”

“You wound me so Moony. But now I’m ignoring you. As I was saying, there are some things that are just meant to be together. Like Evans and Prongs…”

“… You’re deluded…”

“… Like Dumbledore and Hogwarts…”

“… You do realize that Dumbledore was not always the Headmaster, don’t you…”

“… Things like that: fish and chips, Lennon and McCartney, Jimi Hendrix and that muggle stuff I want to try with the making everything all crazy…”

“… I should never have let you take Modern Muggle Studies.”

“The point is all those things kind of suck without the other.”

“I get it. It’s like the moon and the stars…”

“… Or you and me?”

“Exactly.”

Down in Albion: Terrible Warlords, Good Warlords and an English Sun

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 07:49:02 GMT

Title: Down in Albion: Terrible Warlords, Good Warlords and an English Sun
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: N/A-- Merlin/Arthur if you want it
Rating: PG
Genre(s): Drabble, fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this short story. They are owned by BBC and Shine. I do not own the song and words used in the title. I am pretty sure Pete Doherty/Babyshambles still owns them.
Summary: Arthur and Merlin go off to battle for the first time since Arthur's corination. This is not the way Artur wanted to gain peace, though he is afraid this may be the only way.

The song, if you want it:
www.mediafire.com/

                “Merlin… I do not know if I can do this.”
Arthur stared blankly at the canopy of trees.
                “Arthur, what do you mean?”
Merlin stared at the leaves as he tried to get a glimpse of the stars.
                “I am no warlord Merlin. I cannot go and kill all my enemies…”
                “That only kills your allies, I know.”
                “Then what can I do?”
There was a rustling sound as Arthur turned onto his side to look at Merlin.
                “Politics Arthur, that’s what you can do. Talk to the surrounding nobles. Be peaceful. There is no need for the bloodshed you fear.”
                “I am afraid that they know no other way. This is how problems are solved. You go to war. When you lose you talk… unless you are killed. This is the way of our world Merlin.”
                “Well then…”
Merlin rolled onto his side. His eyes caught Arthurs. He leaned in a little, smirk planted on his face, eyes wide with delight.
                “… We’re just going to have to change that.”

Jesse

Sat, 04 Apr 2009 20:28:16 GMT

Title: Jesse
Author:ne0n_sun
Fandom: Taking Back Sunday. Straylight Run, Brand New
Pairing: Jesse/John, Unrequited Jesse/Adam
Rating: PG- cursing?
Genre(s): angst, drabble
Disclaimer: The characters are based on real live people who I have never met and who have never experienced these circumstances. This is all complete fiction. I also do not own the song that gave me the inspiration. (Ivri Liden "Jesse")
Sumamry: "I love a boy named Jesse, but Jesse doesn't love me back.."

Song, if you are interested.
www.mediafire.com/

I’m not crazy; they keep on telling me I am. Or no, he keeps telling me I am. He’s wrong, I know it. I am not imagining this at all. I know it’s the truth. Every time Jesse smiles at me, I know that together we are perfect. Every time he looks at me I know that there’s something between us, we are the same, meant to be the same. He says I’m wrong. He says he’s got a boy somewhere else who he loves, he says that he has John, fucking John, and he’s happy. He lies to himself better than he lies to me. It’s so silly really, how much he believes it when he whispers in John’s ear all those meaningless ‘I love you’s. Ha, they are such pretty lies. Every time he lies down with John, I know he is thinking of me. Every time they have a moment, Jesse wishes it were with me. We have moments too. We have them all the time. I catch him watching me all the time. I know his eyes fallow me. I know that he really loves me. He keeps telling me that I’m wrong. He keeps telling me I’m crazy. I know I’m not. I know I’m not. It’s real, it’s true and he just doesn’t want to see it. He is clouded by John. But that’s okay. John won’t always be there. I know it. The only think John Nolan is good at is leaving the ones he supposedly loves. Jesse will realize he’s only kidding himself, he will. And he will realize that I’m right. It’s not only in my head. (I’m not crazy.) It’s real, and it’s true and Jesse Lacey will know it, even if it is the last thing I ever do.

Sweet Dreams

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 20:29:52 GMT

Title: Sweet Dreams [Goodnight Moon]
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: Fallout Boy
Pairing: Names never mentioned but Pete/Patrick fits best
Rating: G
Genre(s): Fluff
Disclaimer: This is a story I made off at the top of my head. The public figures just fit well into the story.
Summary: He always said... I could calm any beast...

He always says I have a voice like an angel. I could calm any beast, soothe the wildest of tempests. But, he seems to be the only thing I can't soothe, calm, relax. Every night I watch him stare at the ceiling, never allowing himself to shut down, always having just one more thought. He refuses to settle, though he wishes he could. But chemically, biologically, magically he can't. He lays on his back, stares at the cracks and chipped paint. Sometimes I try to wear him out. Sometimes I try to bore him to sleep. Once, and only once, I sang. All failed spectacularly. I tried to lure him with the hallelujah (oh! how he loves heartbreak). The tears fell instead. I never tried that again. He sleeps only when he crashes, and I wish that were anything but true. But he just stares, and currently stares, and my heart breaks and my mind in turn refuses to turn off. He huffs and jerks. His actions, always so child-like, turn completely infantile. He stares at the cracks, imagines shapes and regresses back to his three year-old self. He acts like the boys I used to watch, the ones I carried off to dreamland with only a song. So I take him in my arms, cradle his head and stroke his hair. I whisper words that once helped me get through my own sleepless nights, reminded me I was loved.
"Godspeed... sweet dreams."

I'm On A Plane!

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 08:30:37 GMT

Title: I'm On A Plane [Mile High Club Mother Fuckers!]
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: My Chemical Romance, Fallout Boy, Panic at the Disco, All-American Rejects, The Academy Is..., Cobra Starship
Pairing: Bob/Spencer, Sisky/Butcher, Andy/Joe, Tyson/Nick, so many more that are hopeful.
Rating: PG-13 for over usage of the word "fuck"
Genre(s): Crack!fic? Humor?
Disclaimer: This is all complete nonsense. These events are completely fictional and no, I do not own these people. And I'm pretty sure things like this do not go on in an airport. Except the hobos, I know this to be true.
Summary: Bob and Ray are head of security. Gabe is a pilot. Tyson, Greta, Brendon and Mikey are flight attendents. Ryan is oblivious. Gerard's a hobo. Sisky and the Butcher join the Mile High Club.

This is complete nonsense. It really is. It's for Brittany (i_like_limes109 ) and Kristine (cieluna) even though she won't be reading this. D=

Bob stood at the top of the escalator, stared down at the people scurrying about below. He watched the frenzied mothers who tried to be in eight different directions at once. They grabbed their children, they checked their luggage, they yelled at their teenage children, at their husbands, at everyone for everything. Bob watched the sullen teenagers with their headphones on and their hoods up looking withdrawn and feigning disinterest poorly. Bob watched the check-in clerks as they eyed the clock waiting for their shift to be over so they can drop their blindingly fake smiles. He spied his fellow security guards who spied everything as he did, spied the things he could not see from his vantage.

Bob watched imperiously from above at the masses. He saw the growing irritation and the panic that maybe the flights won’t be made and they’d be stuck here and have to stay at an airport and oh no… fuck. Bob almost smiled as he saw his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s best friend by-pass the headaches and made their way up to him. They had their tickets in hand and their bags checked for them. As he took Spencer’s hand and chatted with all the security workers Bob thought, “It’s good to be the king.”

*

Brendon checked his smile one last time before he exited the bathroom while he straightened his tie. His name tag was shined, his buttons were all done up and his uniform was neatly pressed. He was ready to face the world! And he was excited!

Greta checked her make-up. She checked her skirt and blouse. She smiled and grabbed her suitcase. She smiled and greeted everyone she saw. Her eyes gleamed with the promise of new people to help and a new city to explore. She was so excited!

Tyson pranced around and sang all his favorite musical songs. He was bright, wide-eyed awake and ready to go. He woke Nick up for his flight, grabbed breakfast and left in a flurry of excitement. It was a new day and he was ready to greet it!

Mikey glared at his clock. He glared at his uniform. He glared at the sunshine. He glared at everyone he saw. He glared at his silly flight attendant uniform. In the bathroom mirror he practiced smiling. He managed to get a blank, bored stare. He shrugged and walked to the terminal.

*

[If Bob, Spencer and Ryan had been walking by at the time they would have witnessed an everyday occurrence in one particular wing of the airport.]

Andy spied Joe as he opened up his shop. The smell of dead animals hit Andy quickly and violently. He really wanted to vomit.

Andy’s organic smoothie and fruit stand, and whatever other hippie merchandise he chose to sell, sat very neatly next to the heathen den of sin and despair that was Joe’s Burgers and every other type of unhealthy grease and poor dead animals. Every day, Andy would go home feeling vile and hypocritical just by standing next to the cease pool of immorality. Every day, Andy would start an argument over the Burger Stand. Every day, Joe would simply as for a strawberry smoothie with the fake milk crap that Andy sold and went back to business. Every day, Joe would simply sell his processed, but delicious, meat.

Every day, the security team took a bet to see if Andy and Joe would finally get their act together. Bob told Spencer and Ryan that as they passed through the main food court on their way to their terminal. Andy yelled at Joe about the smell, about the crap that came out of Joe’s speakers (even though Andy secretly loved it). Little did everyone know that each and every night Joe would go to Andy’s house with a vegan burger for Andy and a regular burger for him…

*

Bob had been given Ryan and Spencer the ‘tour’. They walked on their way to Terminal 37. Just as they passed the bathroom where “we catch most of the horny fuckers who couldn’t fucking keep it in their fucking pants,” when Ray came strolling by with a goofy, yet evil, smile on his face. The exchange that followed was quick.

                “Why do you look so fucking stupid Toro?”
                “Fuck you Bob. Hey Spence, hey Ryan.” [“Hey.”]
                “No really what happened?”
                “Guitar boy is back. I’m on my way to watch Wentz moon over him. Then I’m going to make him kick the boy out… or try to.”
                “Fuck! I love it when that happens."

Then they separated and Bob lamented over the fact that he would miss Pete acting like an idiot… again.

*

Bob explained some things as they walked through the airport:

“No one knows how Gabe became a pilot. No one! He spends most of his time with Travis and William in one of the food courts. Thank fucking god for Nick or else the plane wouldn’t leave the ground. And everyone agrees with that. And if the plane somehow did leave the earth… well then, we assume it would be back quickly anyway… in a flaming ball of death and destruction.”

“The boy comes around every once in a while. He brings his guitar and he plays. His voice sounds like angels on Earth, or so Pete thinks. Pete is completely smitten.

“So about once or twice every two weeks the boy shows up with his guitar and entertains all the stupid fuckers who anxiously wait for their crap. He has talent, that’s why Ray and I let him stay. He takes requests a lot, and he always plays them unless they aren’t appropriate. He’s very conscious of all the little tiny fuckers running around… I mean the kids. Sometimes he plays stuff he writes. Those days you can see Pete in the corner. Pretty much itching for a pen so he can write his shit poetry; he never does. Mostly Pete just stares at him fucking wistfully or something and sighs every three fucking second.”

[Often times Ray or Bob would tell Pete to kick him out. In the last year and a half this has never happened. More often than not Pete would try to flirt and the guy just “doesn’t get it!!!!!” Pete would say for the next week after Guitar Boy had been at the airport.

One day Ray and Bob were going to tell Pete that the guy’s name was Patrick and the he has been waiting a year and a half for Pete to ask him out. But not until it’s the week they picked in the betting pool.]

*

Brendon, Tyson and Greta greet everyone as they enter the airplane. They offered comments on the beautiful weather, made inquiries after the reasons for the trip and offered other such comments. Mikey just stood there.

Greta usually took care of the children. She just loved their cute little faces. When they were scared she would tell them about all the places she had been in the world. She gave them juice and snacks and was always sad when they had to go.

Tyson was completely charming. He managed to make everyone buy the over-priced pillows and blankets and food. He was attentive. He loved his job and he made it obvious.

Brendon was generally everyone’s favorite though. His smiles and happy chatter put everyone at rest. He could calm down any anxiety attack almost instantly. He was calm yet energetic. Also, he often led the plane on a sing-a-long. (And really, who doesn’t love those?)

Mikey was really good at making people clean up. He would stare blankly at them until they handed their trash over. He was also very skilled when it came to ignoring the call button.

*

Bob pointed people out as he, Spencer and Ryan continued on to their flight.

“That’s Jon. No one is really exactly sure what the hell he does. All we really know is that Jon Walker is close to godliness and we hope that he continues to do his job well so he stays… whatever job that might be.”

Bob talked about the little things that went on in the airport that no one really knew about.

“During the colder months it’s really not unusual to see homeless dudes staying in the baggage claim. We security guards know them by name. Me and Ray’s favorite is Gerard, a onetime artist who lost everything. Gerard’s really fucking smelly, like really, really fucking smelly. And he’s a little standoffish as well, but we love him anyway. If you manage to ignore the smell and you get to see his art work then you’ll be completely fucking amazed. There’s nothing as tragically beautiful as Gerard’s art.

“Now, if Gerard’s at the airport then Frank’s there too. Frank’s a Catholic school teacher, though fucked if I know how. That man has more tattoos and piercings than anyone I’ve ever met, and I fucking ran security for bands. Frank tries his best to help Gerard. He really doesn’t have money and Gerard doesn’t accept anything lightly. Frank brings him warmer clothes, he washes his old ones. He brings him all the essentials: food, pillows, blankets, and when he has enough extra money he brings art supplies. Gerard always shares with the other hobos and Frank never minded.

“When Ray or I see the two we always bring an extra coffee or two, and tea for the others who are there.”

Brendon and Spencer watched as Brendon nearly attacked Ryan. Short little Brendon tried so hard to help Ryan put his carry on in the overhead compartment. It was an amusing sight- there was a little too much touching to be normal. Ryan did not seem to realize just how out of the ordinary it was. He just stayed completely obliviously. Spencer just gave a long suffering sigh and buried into Bob’s side.

[The Butcher eyed the tiny bathroom in the back of the plane. It was cramped and thin-walled but it would work. Sisky entered a minute later.

“The Bored One has head phones one. The Happy Girl is playing with a kid. The Prancing One is talking someone into buying smoked salmon and filet mignon. And the Other Prancing One is hitting on that skinny kid in first class… and failing. We are good.”

And the two of them joined the mile high club… again.]

It Never Comes Soon Enough

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 01:43:53 GMT

Title: It Never Comes Soon Enough
Author: ne0n_sun
Fandom: The Academy Is...
Pairing: Sisky/Butcher
Rating: G
Genre(s): Fluff/Pure Cuteness/Drabble
Disclaimer: This never happened. All the events are fake and are completely unfounded in reality. I do not own these characters or the real life people they represent.
Summary: "It was the first day of spring and snow was still covering the ground" ("It's too cold Butcher.")

It was the first day of spring and snow was still covering the ground. The wheels of the car barely caught the road. It slid a little as the Butcher made a wide turn. Even inside the car the temperature was too low, too cold. Soft white mist curled from Sisky’s mouth. Sisky’s skin was too white, his eyes too bright. He just looked a little too beautiful. The Butcher wanted to paint his image across the world so everyone could appreciate his beauty.

(“It’s too cold Butcher.”
“I know SiskyBiz. I know.”
“I miss the sun and the green and the flowers.”)

The winter made Sisky go crazy. The snow caked the ground and he never got to go outside and play. He never got to be outside in the fresh air. All he got to do was play basketball, and that was just not enough. He started playing bass because of the dull winter. Sisky just could not stand the cold.

(“It’s too cold.”
“I know Sisky.”
“I can see my breath!”
“I know Sisky.”)

The Butcher never minded the winter. He was too busy with art to really notice. He did notice every time Sisky complained. He noticed everything about Sisky.

(“It’s too cold.”
“Come over here SiskyBiz. I’ll keep you warm.”)

The car skid a little as the Butcher made a wide turn. Sisky’s breath mingled with Butcher’s as they drove further and further away from life. They didn’t speak as the glowing city fell into the horizon. They thought as they drove out into the country, into forests, into everywhere. Sisky didn’t know where they were going. Butcher was not offering any thoughts. They just drove out of the night. The morning sun was just breaking over the tree-line. They drove south. They had been driving all night without a word.

(“Come on Sisky. We’re going for a drive.”
“Where?”
“I can’t tell you. Get up, your mom already knows.”)

                There was no snow when they stopped that afternoon. There was nothing particularly special about the place besides the lack of snow.
                The Butcher watched as Sisky looked around at all the green, watched Sisky as he danced under the sun and stared at the bulbs that were starting to form. Sisky’s smile almost broke his face.
                The place may not have been special initially but in that moment, and with that smile, the place was magnificent.

(“It’s too cold Butcher.”
“I know SiskyBiz. I know.”
“I miss the sun and the green and the flowers.”
"I know. Just wait until spring, the world will come alive again.”
“But that’s too far away!”
“If it doesn’t come soon I’ll take you to spring SiskyBiz.”
“Butcher, it’s too cold.”
“I know. Come here. I’ll keep you warm.”