There was fic last night! Bandom fic, even!
- Pictures of Me and You
Frank/Gerard. My Chemical Romance. R, for bad language and shameless rutting on a bus.
Right. Onto my incredibly exciting life:
- Work on my outstanding Harry Potter deadlines continues apace. I've made serious progress on the fic that's the latest -- Lisa! I love you! No, really! -- enough progress that I've mostly abandoned my earlier (if somewhat vague) ideas toward taking a bath with my toaster.
- Work on the My Chemical Romance Tattoo Shop AU of crack
and possible fail
has not started, sadly. But it will. Oh yes, it will. I can already hear Mikey's opening conversation with Ray, and somewhere in the back of my brain, Gerard is mumbling about needles. Mumbling, seriously. I know, I'm hilariously excited about a fic that I practically swore on a Bible I wasn't going to write, but I'm a big smelly liar like that, and wolfshirts
is a disease. Also, wildestranger
carry really big cattleprods.
- At work today, I was bitchslapped by a sex pollen fic bunny wherein Mikey all but mauls Frank in a club restroom. It was all hands fisted in shirts and hips pressed against the sink and the way Frank's tattoos were yellowed by the flickering, fluorescent lights, and that was before
it devolved into disgustingly filthy porn. Accordingly, Bandom is having a Sex Pollen Meme
as we speak. Unaccordingly, I can't play along. I'm way too backed up in the fic department. My deadlines -- Lisa! You're my favourite! Honestly! -- totally own my soul.
- MCR is going to be in Irvine the first week of April, and I am torn. I hate the Verizon Amphitheatre like burning. Of course, I wouldn't actually have to go inside, because it's one of those all-day outdoor ordeals, so I'd mostly be standing around in the parking lot. And I'm not familiar with any of the other bands, so. It's probably safe to assume that MCR is playing last, or near to last, but I wouldn't want to risk it. And I've learned calling the venue for performance times is pointless -- they want you to be there all day, because this raises the chances of you pissing your money away on overpriced beer and crappy food.
- My other option is to drive out to see them in Tempe, Arizona the last week in March. I'm totally crazy like that, and I lived in Tempe once, but. frontbits
is flat out refusing to be crazy with me. Apparently, we're too old for pointless sick days from work and day-trips that are six hours one way. I am wholly unimpressed with her adult logic, but I am also wholly unimpressed with the idea of heading for the next state over with nothing but myself for company. The last time I was stuck in a car for a protracted period of time, it resulted in horribly pretentious Harry/Draco songfic to the tune of Nine Inch Nails.
- Regulus Black is still my king.
guilty pleasure - cobra starship