#i feel the umlaut is going to be prohibitive

[ohbeffinitely]

Boys, boys, boys 🎶

Streamed on Picarto for the first time since Christmas 2020(!!) and it so lovely 😭💖 Thank you everyone who showed up! I'm really trying to get back into the swing of things, so expect to get those loads of stream notifications again!!

[ssparklemotion]

frerard reclist i

some favorites, no particular order, short thoughts in italics

Fog, Sheets and Thunder by theopteryx

Not as grey as it seems. A post-apocalyptic postal service AU.

Words: 5.536

Dystopia, post-apocalypse. Since the mcr fandom is so open to all kind of settings, the key to make it all so awesome and credible is the characterization. This one nails it and the world created here is also a 11/10.

Under the Hide of Me by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone

Prohibition in New Jersey means mob bosses and bootleggers running hooch up and down the shore and into the city. Gerard Way, his brother, and their friend Ray are running an operation for the Capo Maranzano. Rival factions are trying to take over the business, and Frank Iero, from a prominent Mob family, is sent to them as their new driver. But the Ways and Ray are hiding two secrets: their own still on a farm in the Pine Barrens, and something darker yet. They're werewolves.

Words: 18.228

Period!fic + werewolves + mafia. It’s like they ran an algorithm software to mix & create a story with the most loved tropes in the the MCR fandom. It’s also brilliant. Awesome characterization, niiiice plot, mature writing: check.

A Natural Reaction to Rough-rousing by Bexless

He made it to the bathroom and stood there leaning heavily on the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look like a creepy sadist. But neither did Christian Bale, and that hadn’t ended well for anybody.

Words: 27,994

Frank is always hurting Gerard. It’s no bandom if there isn’t an on tour fic. Awesome characterization!!! Great humour. Nice references. 

you weaseled your way into my heart (and ferreted out my feelings) by akamine_chan

You gotta watch out for those bands with umlauts.

Words: 5.444

It’s not a Magic AU, but there’s some magic going on somehow. Humor, on tour, animal transformation!

Envision The Magic by orphan_account

Gerard is a talented magician, responsible for much of the success of the famous Envision Destiny cruise ship. He's also one of those people. You know, one of those people who just seem to take up all the space they come across with their arrogance and confidence. You wouldn't wanna touch their personality with a 10-foot pole, but still people admire them.

That is beyond Frank. Working behind the cruise ship bars and seeing Gerard pretty much every day, he can't understand what's so great about him. Besides, everybody else doesn't have to deal with his snide remarks and rude comments. Because if there's one thing Gerard seems to love, it's the act of constantly pestering Frank.

Words: 69.420

The first frerard fic I have read. I was in my teens and I still adore it. The setting is very original. Gerard is an asshole. He sucks. I’ve had to read some asshole!frank next to avenge him.

Septicemia by orphan_account

Gerard keeps ruining things, but he never means it. Frank keeps getting hurt, but he never feels it.

Words: 44.884

Gore, super powers, kinda heavy&sad. I still read it from time to time. Mature writing, awesome setting.

Smokeless Flame of Fire by tabulaxrasa

Frank blinked. "What kind of name for a genie is Gerard?"

Words: 21.405

Yeah. Gerard is a genie. Frank is his little punk high schooler self. 

Public Enemy by tabulaxrasa

In 1932, Gerard Way has been making a name for himself robbing banks up and down New Jersey. Frank Iero, analyst for J. Edgar Hoover's Division of Investigation, is determined to catch him.

Words: 21.163

A cops and robbers au. Incredible! I remember being awed by this.

A Kiss With A Fist by iamdali

Part 1 of Boxer!Fic Words: 46;122

Frank is a boxer in a illegal gym. Gerard is a jobless and fresh out of school doctor. It’s perfect! Amazing writing, setting and characterization combo.

Buzzed by synonomy

"You should," Frank gets out between snorts, "you should cut your hair."

"What?" Gerard wheezes.

"No, it's just-- it's all stuck up." Frank shuffles forwards on his knees and then his hands are in Gerard's hair. Gerard's laughter dies down abruptly. Frank's fingers are surprisingly gentle on his scalp, ruffling it up, carding through it. "We'd probably have to wash it first, though," he says thoughtfully

Words: 6.345

And here is a pwp. Stoned guys, awesome smut.

[ukdamo]

Two Scenes from Amsterdam

Mateus Conrad

you want the good first, and the bad second? never mind, you're going to get the bad first... so there i was, sitting in the street, outside a pub, sipping a cool drench of heineken pint, probably the best beer in the world (i'd agree with the carlsberg ad., but then it's featherweight at 3.8%... so dear dane? probably no... stick with shakespeare... you ******* umlaut wannabe (ø) diphtong)... so i was sitting there with some dutch-bewilderment, a local...  out pops a skinny kenyan and starts ******* in front of us... sure, he's ******* against the dumpster,  but the dutch-bewilderment glaces at me and his eyes are already saying to me: worth a knife or a stick, to clobber the ******* down, i've lost the desire to drink my beer...         centre of amsterdam, i was wackoed out of the pub by sheer: huh?!     i admit, not all stories are bad, the other time, i was sharing a hostel room with two germans, who decided to waste a mushroom experience while watching *american dad... while me and this egyptian architecture student hit the town... i was drinking, he was smoking,   then i took a **** at one of his "special moment" rollies... and then he said,   put these on (headphones), listen to this music... the music? le trio joubran, the song? masar...     i was drinking throughout the day... but one **** of the rollie, and the music?            **** me, the dam bursts... i was sitting there, in one of the cafes,  mouth open, eyes closed, one or two dutch girls looking, my egyptian companion said...     it must have been akin to someone shooting up ******... with my eyes closed i must have been looking at god,  or a diamond, or into a kaleidoscope; gravity fused itself with my genitals... i was dragged into my seat...  and couldn't move, eyes closed, mouth agape,      monged out of my nuts, which by this moment in chronological order, was beyond the chance to orbit saturn and take a selfie...  the holy trinity of an excess of *****, some marijuana,   and music you've never heard before, suggested by a stranger... last thing i remember was walking through the streets of amsterdam, laughing my head off... when i consider reviving memories of cities i usually have several version to mind... the first amsterdam i went to was so: ............................. ........................ ............................... a boring trip, i bought two pipes, a classical pipe, and this asian pipe... the second amsterdam?         was this the amsterdam where i visited a *****? can't remember...  amsterdam no. 3?             i think that's the amsterdam account i just gave...    never mind the minor thrill of "smuggling" a few grams of hash through the airport,  in a biscuit can...                a bit like plagiarising that sociology essay, just inviting the thesaurus to change the sentence structure at university... for the thrill, not for the grade...  evidently a.i. isn't familiar with the thesaurus cheat mode...  **** me...got a first in that essay, and managed to beat the computers; oh yeah, smuggled the hash in... it wasn't a lot, barely an 8th of an ounce, fact of the matter is, i did it; that being said,  i have no romance with amsterdam, i just miss paris...      i'm never going back, the memories are too precious...              that hostel... duck something, drowning duck? drunk duck?    i can't remember...   i'm never going back to paris, the memories are too precious, and the current affairs are too painful to make that city a beacon of light once more...   we showered in the outside, and we made courgette pasta with onions garlic, bacon and cream...    but that was 2005 or so.       for some reason, i never had the sort of affection for amsterdam,            great for smoking, great for drinking,   great for not feeling guilty about window-shopping prostitutes:   with that victorian-feminism attitude of the brits...     hey! you're cutting the chivalry costs of paying for the meal: back to basics...  stochholm? over-priced...      you'd probably become intoxicated quicker, having downed a bottle of ***** you bought at the airport,  and then drinking your own ****, than you would, while drinking at the swedes' americana experiment with pseudo-prohibition tactics...    how are you going to keep warm? fat ain't furr... but sure as ****, alcohol numbs the biting cold,    no matter how you think about it in describing it as a placebo effect...                    it still warms the poles in the outdoors, esp. when a person dies in winter, and they have their stypa /   wake drinking session in the graveyard. i just can't forget that look of disgust from the dutch guy sitting next to me, drinking his beer,   without our shared canvas, of an african ******* in the street, against a dust-bin; as borat would have said...                     *mmm das nnnnnnniiiiiiice.