#this was also during one of those spells where everyone was getting twisted up abt m***y w*y

[spirallingstarcases]

Many, many of those wips look very intriguing but I’m gonna ask about bang the door closed :]

oh i’m gonna get polarized reviews on this one. so bang the door closed is a peterick fic set in a universe where bang the doldrums is a setlist regular and patrick hates singing it. um. mostly this was me practicing writing possessive characters and voices, but tbh i think i got some pretty okay lines out of it. i think i ended up abandoning it after realizing that patrick could never hate his own songs they’re like his babies <33

here’s a snippet :3

“You wanna talk about it?”

Patrick sighs, and lays down on his stomach on the bed. “No,” he says into the sheets.

“You probably should.” He feels Andy sit down beside him.

“Yeah.” Patrick inhales the musty smell of hotel sheets. “I should.”

They sit in silence. Pete was supposed to be here, Patrick thinks. He’s supposed to be sharing this room with Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz (the Third), but said pretentious fuck is off scoring chicks and twinks and then sleeping in their one bedroom apartments in the city just to stumble back in the morning, bleary and tired and fucked out, to tuck himself against Patrick like he never left.

Pete was supposed to be sharing the last six hotel rooms with him, too.

Surely there’s something unhealthy in the way Patrick lets him, lets Pete climb all over him and shove his face and hands where they don’t belong, except that it’s Pete, and Pete always belongs, always, when it’s him.

“I don’t like the song.” Patrick finally admits.

Andy lets out a slow breath. “Which song?”

“Bang the Doldrums,” Patrick says. As soon as he says it, he clamps his mouth shut. It feels like he just committed a sin, admitting that he doesn’t like it, doesn’t like Pete’s words, doesn’t like the guitar riffs, doesn’t like anything about it at all.