Pete in spades

Fic: Joe College. Pete/Joe. NC-17.

Title: Joe College
Author: eleanor_lavish
Pairing: Pete/Joe; ~6000 words
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Future!fic, so a disclaimer is unnecessary, yes? Clearly I am not clairvoyant. Thanks to clumsygyrl for running this awesome bandslash_usa challenge; to stonedtodeath, o4fuxache, and lovelypoet, all of whom let me babble about this thing incessantly; and to schuyler for being by bestest beta, once again. This was so self-indulgent, I can't even express. Thanks for putting up with me.
Summary: "Doesn't anyone think it's bizarre that you're a twenty-six year old freshman?" Pete bites out, arms crossed in front of him.

"Doesn't anyone think its bizarre that you're thirty-one and still spending your free time designing hoodies with thumb holes?" he replies with a shrug and Pete stomps into the bedroom and slams the door.

Joe College
  • jzbell

FIC: Rose Is a Four-Letter Word (Brendon/Ryan, others)

Title: Rose Is a Four-Letter Word
Author: jzbell
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan (Ryan/Brent, Ryan/Spencer, Ryan/Pete, Ryan/Jon, Ryan/Jon/Spencer, Jon/Spencer)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ryan's allergic to roses. Well, maybe "allergic" is the wrong word for it.
Disclaimer: This is not true; I'm not implying that it is. For entertainment purposes only. Not intended for individual resale. Et cetera.
Notes: For disarm_d's sex pollen pornomeme. I figured someone had to take the opportunity to write slutty!Ryan. Title via Googlism. ♥s to acroamatica, once again, for the beta (and the superhuman turnaround time).

( 'Dude, Ryan attacked me.' )

Try This Trick And Spin It (FOB/MCR/ETC, NC-17)

Hey, so, ficbyzee and I posted some fictional-type shenanigans yesterday ---

Try This Trick And Spin It
by Charli J (gigantic) and Zee (ficbyzee)
NC-17. AU. 25,000 words.
Pete/Patrick, Bob/Frank, Ryan/Brendon, Patrick/Frank, Pete/Ryan, and more.
Philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.

Note: Despite the misleading word length, this is more like a detailed summary of a universe Zee and I developed throughout last summer. A story about a story. If I remember correctly, Zee had a Fight Club-related idea for a Pete/Patrick story, and then one day Ryan Ross got a tattoo. Somehow, those two things spun off into a universe that's generally become its own thing and has since only been told orally on a bus to Maine and via email. Since we kind of fail at both oral storytelling and responding to email, third time, charm time has us posting to the Internets.

This story contains content some readers may find disturbing. Title from The Pixies' "Where Is My Mind?" and tagline from Marx as quoted by the Praxis entry on Wikipedia.

( Try This Trick And Spin It )
Teen Witch AU

Whether It’s Wednesday Or A Saturday Night

Whether It’s Wednesday Or A Saturday Night by skoosiepants
PG-13 | 14,000+ | Teen Witch AU
Ryan/Mike Kennerty, Spencer/Jon, Gabe, Brendon, Pete, Gerard, Gaylor

“Christ, Gramps, tell me that’s authentic tweed.”

Ryan tries to squirm away, says, “Hey, don’t—”

“Chill, Ross, it’s a total fucking compliment. You’re like this weirdo, bohemian—oh, your scarf.” Gaylor leans even further into Ryan’s space, holds the ends of his scarf up in the firelight. “Your scarf has fucking tiny giraffes on it, how do you even exist? Mike, Mike, how does this guy even exist?”
bill can top a camera!

happy birthday happy birthday!

It's William Beckett's birthday today! Little Billvy is a whopping 23 - does that mean Gabe and Travis get to spank him 23 times?

To celebrate this momentous occasion, why not take a spin through my very own (though slightly outdated) William Beckett picspam, or reread some of these excellent stories starring William Beckett (Ms. Beckett if you're nasty). These are all older stories at this point, so rec newer stories in comments!

I Will Destroy Ryan Ross And All That He Loves by jae_w
The first thing to do, William thought, was to lay a trap for Ross. In this case, laying a trap entailed making out with hot, eager, extremely sincere boys in front of Ryan as much as possible, but such were the sacrifices William was prepared to make in pursuit of his goal. No matter how many guys he dragged in front of Ryan, though, Ryan didn't make a move on any of them. He looked, definitely, William caught him looking several times, and each time William caught him Ryan would look down and then glance over at William almost apologetically through his eyelashes. Perhaps, William thought, perhaps Ross had seen the error of his ways. If Ryan was prepared to be sorry, William was prepared to be generous. Maybe just a mild chastisement, some petty public humiliation and then, if Ryan asked very nicely, William might let Ryan make it up to him.

Afterparty by pre_emptive
When Jon feels cool fingers trail down his back, condensation-damp and leaking through his t-shirt, he knows exactly whose they are. There are only so many people who would have such utter disrespect for the fact that for once, he's managing to have an interesting conversation with Bianca's face. Admittedly, almost all of them are at this party, but he knows these fingers well.

"Hey Billiam," he says, and leans back into the touch.

lyrical master blaster by gigantic
William says, "Are you trying to show me up?" and tilts his head back to finish off his can, hair tickling Travis's arm and neck curving against his forearm. The skin's a little sweaty. Mexico is too warm even in the evening, kids still running around in their trunks and bikinis. Travis laughs at William as he drinks, and William gasps loudly when he finishes, crushing the can in his hands and turning his head back and forth, searching.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by iridescentglow
That was the thing, of course. William—Bill—was not his boyfriend; fuck knows, they weren't in love. Their relationship had always been resoundingly, exhaustively platonic. If he was honest with himself, Gabe couldn't entirely figure out why. But when William invited him to crash at his hotel room, it meant just that: a spot on the floor. When William hugged him, he was an irritating blend of childish and coquettish—but it was never a precursor to much of anything. And when William loaned Gabe some clothes to wear, it was… just clothes.

Skeptics and True Believers by iphignia939
"Come on," Bill said, planting himself in front of Patrick's locker. Patrick just sighed and didn't bother trying to move him; he'd known Bill just long enough to know that that wasn't really an option. He was tiny and weighed maybe six pounds, but he had, like, magnets in his feet. "Give it a shot!"

"No," Patrick said, and shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other. "I don't -- Bill, I don't sing, okay? I don't."

It's someone else's birthday around these parts. I know I'm indebted to iphignia939's excellent Pete/Patrick, without which I may not ever have cared about the gloriously gay q&as, or the gloriously gay crush Pete has on Patrick. Happy birthday, Gale!

we happy few, FOB GSF
One of Pete's shoes is propping the door open; Joe kicks it aside and lets them in, closing it behind him. "Okay, what the hell was so important? 'Cause if it's to help you dye your hair again, asshole, you don't *actually* need two people to help you do that."

Suppose For A Moment, Pete/Patrick
Pete walks into the kitchen, still jingling his keys. He hasn't slept, he still smells like Ashlee's perfume, and all he wants to do is go upstairs, climb into bed, and close his ey--

"Hey," Other Him says, standing at the counter, staring squint-eyed at the coffee machine. "Oh my God, do you have any idea how to work this? Because I just. I got nothin' right now."

Tuesday-Thursday, Bill/JWalk/Butcher
Bill is bored.

This is not, in and of itself, a bad thing; under the right circumstances, boredom can be extremely conducive to the creative process. Ideas are just what happens when several sources of information plug into each other and connections form, after all. When people get bored, they let their minds wander; it’s like natural connective tissue between ideas.

However. When Bill gets bored, he tends to get horny.

So We'll Stop Pretending, Ryan/Spencer
"I'm *pretty*," Ryan said out loud, voice going high and feminine. He snickered and did a little twirl. He really wasn't -- his face was too masculine, and he had an Adam's apple. His hips didn't curve or anything. But it's what someone might say, maybe, to themselves, wearing something like this. Back in the 1920s, maybe.

the eternal dilemma, Patrick/Maja
It doesn't help that there was just enough of a lull between breaking up with Anna and dating Maja that any and all experience regarding buying girls things went completely out his ear. Anna had been a lot like the other girls he's gone out with: very sensible, occasionally girly. She didn't like bath stuff, and she trusted his taste in music (or said she did, which was almost the same thing), and she wasn't a big fan of yellow. Other than that, she was good.

Maja is not like that.

Go forth! Read! Comment! Rec more! Happy birthday to Bill and Gale; may you both be feted as you deserve, whether you have a secret baby or are secret babyless!