[ 11 reasons...: Coloring Walls ]
May. 14th, 2007 01:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyrocketdale[mood| 
creative]
[music| Ska del Exodo ~ Ataque 77]
Pairing: Frank/Gerard.
For the: "11 Reasons why Frank and Gerard always are left alone."
Table: Favorites Prompt: 31. hobby / pastime
Also for the 20 mar 07 prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
we_are_cities.
Rated: PG-13.
Word Count: ~2200
Beta: The incredible and outstanding![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vamplover82.
Summary: Gerard finds a box of crayons to draw in the tub at his house and he drags Franks with him for said action. (Most likely part one out of two)
Disclaimer: Honestly I don’t own MCRwe’re not saying that they don’t own me. Actually I just own a small teddy bear called Mikey that says ‘I love you’ and a little guy dressed like the black parade that it’s called Ray.
Dedication: forbatmanboxers 'cause she is bringing sexyback indeed has the crayons to color in the bathtub.
(also, as usual, for Lau, James, Em & Dani.)
.coloring walls.
"I plan to color in the shower wall."- Sarah.
“What’s this?” Gerard asks, pointing to the boxes outside his basement.
“Well, I thought that doing some cleaning would be a good idea,” his mom answers with a smile, “since you’re coming back here for a while. You’re not a child anymore, Gerard; there are a lot of things you don’t need.”
He looks at the boxes suspiciously, and there’s no trust in his eyes; he doesn’t think that his mom is the right person to look through those boxes and know what he does and doesn’t need anymore.
“Can I take a look at this before you throw it away?”
Donna sighs; she knows her son. “Sure, Gerard, suit yourself.”
“I know you did this for me, Mom, and I’m thankful for that; I just want to see what’s in there.”
“I know, son; don’t worry.” She smiles a bit, the same half smile that Mikey and Gerard have. “I’ll be in the kitchen making something for dinner; it will be just you and me.”
His mother is happy, Gerard thinks while he carries the three boxes back to his old room. She’s happy having her thirty-year-old son back under her roof, and even if Gerard finds it pathetic, he prefers to stay here keeping her company to being alone in a big house until the tour starts again.
After all, Gerard keeps thinking with a smirk, he’s a mama’s boy. And he has wanted to have some alone time with his mom since he was three and an evil creature that his parents said would grow to become a human like him (something that Gerard doubted a lot) came to interrupt his comfortable place as the one and only focus of his mother’s affection. That evil creature, as you may imagine, was called Mikey. Though Gerard didn’t use that name for him until – well, a long time after that; ‘cause in the beginning, it was just an evil creature.
There’s a box full of old homework - papers from school - and Gerard thinks that now is not a good time to ruin his ego, seeing how much he sucked at history. It’s not that he hated it, but the teacher hated him, really. That old bastard hated Gerard since he found him drawing in class, which of course was not Gerard’s fault either. If the man had made the class more interesting, Gerard wouldn’t have needed his sketching pad to keep himself awake during it.
That box, then, could totally go in the trash.
The second one is full of things that he is pretty sure he threw away years ago. Notepads, papers and even napkins full of tricks to Star Wars and Dudgeons & Dragons. Gerard can’t help but laugh at his own geekiness and think how amusing it would be if MTV or Kerrang! or anyone found this.
He closes the box that was also going to be discarded, thinking that his fans wouldn’t be very surprised about those things, honestly.
“Gerard?” his mom calls before he can open the last box. “Frank is here!”
The singer laughs softly. “Thanks for making me feel young again, Mom!” he says; he remembered when any of the guys would come to the house and he would be in his basement doing anything or nothing and his mom would scream at him with the notice of anyone coming in.
“That’s my job, son!” The woman laughs too, and Gerard is sure he can hear a bit of Frank’s laugh along with her words. “Want me to send him down with some lemonade to complete your nostalgia?”
“Mom,” he says with a smile, while opening the third box, “you never made us lemonade.”
Donna’s and Frank’s laughs are music to Gerard’s ears when he finds something appealing in the box.
“Planning on doing something interesting?” Frank asks, entering the room.
“I found these crayons with the ones I can use to draw on the bathtub,” he says, lifting a little box, “I plan to color in the shower wall.”
Franks gives him a grin and walks closer. “Don’t you think your mom would be mad?”
“She loves my art,” Gerard says in a childish tone, pulling the box away when Frank tries to grab it. “Mine!” he adds.
Frank giggles a bit at that; he can’t help that that’s the effect Gerard has on him. “Aren’t you a bit old for drawing on walls?” he tries this time.
“Oh my God!” Gerard says, offended, and adding a bit of drama to the sentence. “You think that art has an age?!”
Frank rolls his eyes. “We’re talking about your mother’s shower walls, Gerard.”
“Art has no place, Frank,” he says, putting on airs.
“Yeah, but I hardly doubt that any other artist would draw around their mom’s house.”
“I always knew I had very active creativity, thank you.” He smiles, the childish tone mixed with superiority, and Frank sits down on the floor in front of Gerard, who gives him an odd look.
“What?!” the guitarist says, not truly offended, “You can talk about coloring walls and I can’t sit on the fucking floor?”
“Anyway,” Gerard says, putting the crayons away and going back to the box, “what are you doing here?”
“I got sick of my own family, and I remembered that I really liked yours.” He smiles. “Or, well, you and your mom.”
“We like you too,” Gerard answers, not really giving the guitarist much attention, and instead paying attention to the things he is finding.
“What are you doing, anyway?” Frank asks, using the same words the singer had before.
“Mom put things in boxes, and I’m seeing if there’s something interesting in them.”
“Any luck?”
“Besides my crayons,” Frank rolls his eyes at that, and Gerard gives him the finger while he lifts a book with a brownish cover, “more proof that I was a geek and some school things. All trash really.”
“Why did you still have it, then?”
Gerard shrugs. “I didn’t know I had it,” he says, finally closing the last box. “Nothing here either; Mom was right.”
“You’re really going to color the shower walls?”
“Yes, follow me.” Gerard gets up, his face bright with juvenile mischief.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Frank says while following the older man up stairs.
“Mom!” he hears Gerard asking, “Would you mind if I do something that involves your shower walls?”
“No, but if it’s Frank, please don’t be too loud.”
Frank chokes on his saliva as Gerard’s laughs. “She’s really into the band slash thing; the other day she made Mikey so red with some questions.”
The guitarist gives him an incredulous look while they walk away from the kitchen’s entrance and to the bathroom. If he wonders how Gerard is so crazy sometimes, he clearly can blame genetics for that.
Gerard opens the shower’s curtain, and he’s actually excited about this until he realizes that he has no idea what to draw in there. He turns to Frank, the smirk on his face a worried frown now.
“What’s wrong?” the other asks.
“I dunno what to- Ah!” he smiles again, and his face lights like a light-bubble would do in a kid’s cartoon. “Take off your shirt!”
“What?!”
Gerard chuckles at Frank’s face, “You fucker, I wanna see the birds on your hips; I like those, and I have an idea.”
“Those are not plain birds; they are—”
“Whatever, Frank, just take your shirt off.”
Frank rolls his eyes at Gerard, his hands resting at the ends of his t-shirt. “You just want to see me naked!”
“Frank, I’ve seen you naked thousands of times, now please,” he says waving a hand and motioning Frank to go on with his as yet unstarted task.
Frank grumbles incoherent words while taking off his shirt, and Gerard smiles at the colorful display in front of him. “Ah, I love how your chest is a work of art.”
“You should see my back,” Frank says, doing his best not to smile at the fact that his naked body caused Gerard to smile.
Gerard carefully starts picking one of the crayons from the box when Frank’s voice stops him.
“Wait,” the younger one says, “shouldn’t the point of coloring in the shower be that you do it wet and all that?”
Gerard gives him a questioning look, then smiles. “Now you want to see me naked.” He looks from the shower, where a yellow duck that looks like the one that he used to scare Mikey years ago sits, to the crayons’ box. “But you have a point.”
“Thank you,” Frank says and moves as if to get his shirt from the floor.
“What are you doing?” Gerard asks him.
“Getting dressed?”
“Nuh-uh,” Gerard denies, leaving the little box on the bathroom’s counter. “You’re taking your pants off now; we’re getting a shower.”
“What?!” Franks feels odd asking the same question, but there’s not much more he can say.
“Shower, so I can draw on the wall,” he says, starting to take his own shirt off. “It’s not that hard, Frank. And it’s not like we haven’t shared a shower before.”
“Yes…you, me, and three other guys.”
“And said like that, it sounds better because…?”
“And your mom is the one obsessed with band slash?” Frank retorts.
Gerard chuckles softly. “Come on, you’re bored and I’m bored. This would be fun.”
“You’ll do the drawing; how’s it gonna be fun for me?”
“If you promise to stay in the lines, I’ll let you color a bit.” Frank rolls his eyes at that answer, and his hands somehow decide to be at Gerard’s side, undoing his belt.
When Frank looks up, Gerard is in his boxers in the shower, crayon box in hand, and apparently searching for something in it.
“I can’t believe there’s no black!” he says, indignantly.
“What kind of kid would need black to draw?”
“One that wants to make normal borders?”
“No, a lead singer that spends his free Saturday afternoon coloring in the bathtub with his guitarist would,” Frank answers, going over the to shower and getting in next to Gerard.
“Yellow would do; it’s for birds after all,” he says, picking up the crayon. “Don’t say anything!” He stops Frank’s protests, and the guitarist mutters a ‘fuck you’ under his breath.
He turns on the shower, and there are a few curses from both of them before he finds the right temperature. Then they’re both soaked, and the silk of their boxers is attached to their skin.
“Now,” Gerard says, turning to watch Frank’s hips, where his inspiration is. But his attention is diverted. Frank’s recently long hair is wet, wet and sticking to his face, which is also wet and making him glow – mostly his lips, that look as if raindrops had fallen on them, making them look delightful to eat, or something like that.
And Frank must know that Gerard is distracted, because he smirks like he does when they’re on stage and he’s about to do something that would make everyone scream and end up in thousands of Livejournal communities. He smirks like that at Gerard, and he’s probably about to say something witty about the forgotten crayon in Gerard’s hand or the water making him look like a drenched puppy (Ray had said that once when Gerard had come back, soaked to the bone after running through the rain to the bus) or about the whole situation, but Gerard doesn’t let him because he is pushing his own lips against Frank’s, making their wet bodies collide with each other.
Frank, who Gerard thought would either run away or laugh this all off, is actually kissing him back and even putting his wet hand against Gerard’s neck, playing with the hair there, and pulling it a bit, too.
When the kiss becomes heated enough that their bodies are almost thrusting against each other and Gerard can feel the erection forming in Frank’s boxers against his own mixed with the water falling from both their chests, Frank’s breaks the kiss.
It takes a few breaths before the guitarist can say what he apparently wanted to and what made him break the battle of tongues. “Of all the times,” he says, still breathing erratically, “Of all the times that I imagined fucking you, in your house with your mom in the kitchen was never an option.”
Gerard shivers, in part because of Frank’s warm breath on his lips, and in part because of the words – and the ideas that those words bring to his mind. “Okay,” he says, even though he doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to or if there’s anything to agree to at all.
“So, you’re going to color your fucking walls while I enjoy watching your tight, wet ass moving in front of me,” he smiles as he says that, “and then we’ll make an excuse so I can drag you to my hotel room and fuck you until you can’t scream anymore. Okay?”
There is something to agree to this time, but Gerard can’t find the words, so he kisses Frank again, the other man responding him without a second of hesitation.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Frank giggles when they break apart.
While starting to draw, with Frank making some pretty dirty remarks that almost cause Gerard to blush – almost - the singer thinks about changing the title on the crayons’ box.
Going from ‘Rub a Dub, draw in the tub’ to ‘Rub a guitarist, fuck in the tub’ seems oddly amusing to him.
~*~
{table with links to all fics}
…write is human, comment is divine…
creative][music| Ska del Exodo ~ Ataque 77]
Pairing: Frank/Gerard.
For the: "11 Reasons why Frank and Gerard always are left alone."
Table: Favorites Prompt: 31. hobby / pastime
Also for the 20 mar 07 prompt at
we_are_cities.Rated: PG-13.
Word Count: ~2200
Beta: The incredible and outstanding
vamplover82.Summary: Gerard finds a box of crayons to draw in the tub at his house and he drags Franks with him for said action. (Most likely part one out of two)
Disclaimer: Honestly I don’t own MCR
Dedication: for
batmanboxers 'cause she (also, as usual, for Lau, James, Em & Dani.)
.coloring walls.
"I plan to color in the shower wall."- Sarah.
“What’s this?” Gerard asks, pointing to the boxes outside his basement.
“Well, I thought that doing some cleaning would be a good idea,” his mom answers with a smile, “since you’re coming back here for a while. You’re not a child anymore, Gerard; there are a lot of things you don’t need.”
He looks at the boxes suspiciously, and there’s no trust in his eyes; he doesn’t think that his mom is the right person to look through those boxes and know what he does and doesn’t need anymore.
“Can I take a look at this before you throw it away?”
Donna sighs; she knows her son. “Sure, Gerard, suit yourself.”
“I know you did this for me, Mom, and I’m thankful for that; I just want to see what’s in there.”
“I know, son; don’t worry.” She smiles a bit, the same half smile that Mikey and Gerard have. “I’ll be in the kitchen making something for dinner; it will be just you and me.”
His mother is happy, Gerard thinks while he carries the three boxes back to his old room. She’s happy having her thirty-year-old son back under her roof, and even if Gerard finds it pathetic, he prefers to stay here keeping her company to being alone in a big house until the tour starts again.
After all, Gerard keeps thinking with a smirk, he’s a mama’s boy. And he has wanted to have some alone time with his mom since he was three and an evil creature that his parents said would grow to become a human like him (something that Gerard doubted a lot) came to interrupt his comfortable place as the one and only focus of his mother’s affection. That evil creature, as you may imagine, was called Mikey. Though Gerard didn’t use that name for him until – well, a long time after that; ‘cause in the beginning, it was just an evil creature.
There’s a box full of old homework - papers from school - and Gerard thinks that now is not a good time to ruin his ego, seeing how much he sucked at history. It’s not that he hated it, but the teacher hated him, really. That old bastard hated Gerard since he found him drawing in class, which of course was not Gerard’s fault either. If the man had made the class more interesting, Gerard wouldn’t have needed his sketching pad to keep himself awake during it.
That box, then, could totally go in the trash.
The second one is full of things that he is pretty sure he threw away years ago. Notepads, papers and even napkins full of tricks to Star Wars and Dudgeons & Dragons. Gerard can’t help but laugh at his own geekiness and think how amusing it would be if MTV or Kerrang! or anyone found this.
He closes the box that was also going to be discarded, thinking that his fans wouldn’t be very surprised about those things, honestly.
“Gerard?” his mom calls before he can open the last box. “Frank is here!”
The singer laughs softly. “Thanks for making me feel young again, Mom!” he says; he remembered when any of the guys would come to the house and he would be in his basement doing anything or nothing and his mom would scream at him with the notice of anyone coming in.
“That’s my job, son!” The woman laughs too, and Gerard is sure he can hear a bit of Frank’s laugh along with her words. “Want me to send him down with some lemonade to complete your nostalgia?”
“Mom,” he says with a smile, while opening the third box, “you never made us lemonade.”
Donna’s and Frank’s laughs are music to Gerard’s ears when he finds something appealing in the box.
“Planning on doing something interesting?” Frank asks, entering the room.
“I found these crayons with the ones I can use to draw on the bathtub,” he says, lifting a little box, “I plan to color in the shower wall.”
Franks gives him a grin and walks closer. “Don’t you think your mom would be mad?”
“She loves my art,” Gerard says in a childish tone, pulling the box away when Frank tries to grab it. “Mine!” he adds.
Frank giggles a bit at that; he can’t help that that’s the effect Gerard has on him. “Aren’t you a bit old for drawing on walls?” he tries this time.
“Oh my God!” Gerard says, offended, and adding a bit of drama to the sentence. “You think that art has an age?!”
Frank rolls his eyes. “We’re talking about your mother’s shower walls, Gerard.”
“Art has no place, Frank,” he says, putting on airs.
“Yeah, but I hardly doubt that any other artist would draw around their mom’s house.”
“I always knew I had very active creativity, thank you.” He smiles, the childish tone mixed with superiority, and Frank sits down on the floor in front of Gerard, who gives him an odd look.
“What?!” the guitarist says, not truly offended, “You can talk about coloring walls and I can’t sit on the fucking floor?”
“Anyway,” Gerard says, putting the crayons away and going back to the box, “what are you doing here?”
“I got sick of my own family, and I remembered that I really liked yours.” He smiles. “Or, well, you and your mom.”
“We like you too,” Gerard answers, not really giving the guitarist much attention, and instead paying attention to the things he is finding.
“What are you doing, anyway?” Frank asks, using the same words the singer had before.
“Mom put things in boxes, and I’m seeing if there’s something interesting in them.”
“Any luck?”
“Besides my crayons,” Frank rolls his eyes at that, and Gerard gives him the finger while he lifts a book with a brownish cover, “more proof that I was a geek and some school things. All trash really.”
“Why did you still have it, then?”
Gerard shrugs. “I didn’t know I had it,” he says, finally closing the last box. “Nothing here either; Mom was right.”
“You’re really going to color the shower walls?”
“Yes, follow me.” Gerard gets up, his face bright with juvenile mischief.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Frank says while following the older man up stairs.
“Mom!” he hears Gerard asking, “Would you mind if I do something that involves your shower walls?”
“No, but if it’s Frank, please don’t be too loud.”
Frank chokes on his saliva as Gerard’s laughs. “She’s really into the band slash thing; the other day she made Mikey so red with some questions.”
The guitarist gives him an incredulous look while they walk away from the kitchen’s entrance and to the bathroom. If he wonders how Gerard is so crazy sometimes, he clearly can blame genetics for that.
Gerard opens the shower’s curtain, and he’s actually excited about this until he realizes that he has no idea what to draw in there. He turns to Frank, the smirk on his face a worried frown now.
“What’s wrong?” the other asks.
“I dunno what to- Ah!” he smiles again, and his face lights like a light-bubble would do in a kid’s cartoon. “Take off your shirt!”
“What?!”
Gerard chuckles at Frank’s face, “You fucker, I wanna see the birds on your hips; I like those, and I have an idea.”
“Those are not plain birds; they are—”
“Whatever, Frank, just take your shirt off.”
Frank rolls his eyes at Gerard, his hands resting at the ends of his t-shirt. “You just want to see me naked!”
“Frank, I’ve seen you naked thousands of times, now please,” he says waving a hand and motioning Frank to go on with his as yet unstarted task.
Frank grumbles incoherent words while taking off his shirt, and Gerard smiles at the colorful display in front of him. “Ah, I love how your chest is a work of art.”
“You should see my back,” Frank says, doing his best not to smile at the fact that his naked body caused Gerard to smile.
Gerard carefully starts picking one of the crayons from the box when Frank’s voice stops him.
“Wait,” the younger one says, “shouldn’t the point of coloring in the shower be that you do it wet and all that?”
Gerard gives him a questioning look, then smiles. “Now you want to see me naked.” He looks from the shower, where a yellow duck that looks like the one that he used to scare Mikey years ago sits, to the crayons’ box. “But you have a point.”
“Thank you,” Frank says and moves as if to get his shirt from the floor.
“What are you doing?” Gerard asks him.
“Getting dressed?”
“Nuh-uh,” Gerard denies, leaving the little box on the bathroom’s counter. “You’re taking your pants off now; we’re getting a shower.”
“What?!” Franks feels odd asking the same question, but there’s not much more he can say.
“Shower, so I can draw on the wall,” he says, starting to take his own shirt off. “It’s not that hard, Frank. And it’s not like we haven’t shared a shower before.”
“Yes…you, me, and three other guys.”
“And said like that, it sounds better because…?”
“And your mom is the one obsessed with band slash?” Frank retorts.
Gerard chuckles softly. “Come on, you’re bored and I’m bored. This would be fun.”
“You’ll do the drawing; how’s it gonna be fun for me?”
“If you promise to stay in the lines, I’ll let you color a bit.” Frank rolls his eyes at that answer, and his hands somehow decide to be at Gerard’s side, undoing his belt.
When Frank looks up, Gerard is in his boxers in the shower, crayon box in hand, and apparently searching for something in it.
“I can’t believe there’s no black!” he says, indignantly.
“What kind of kid would need black to draw?”
“One that wants to make normal borders?”
“No, a lead singer that spends his free Saturday afternoon coloring in the bathtub with his guitarist would,” Frank answers, going over the to shower and getting in next to Gerard.
“Yellow would do; it’s for birds after all,” he says, picking up the crayon. “Don’t say anything!” He stops Frank’s protests, and the guitarist mutters a ‘fuck you’ under his breath.
He turns on the shower, and there are a few curses from both of them before he finds the right temperature. Then they’re both soaked, and the silk of their boxers is attached to their skin.
“Now,” Gerard says, turning to watch Frank’s hips, where his inspiration is. But his attention is diverted. Frank’s recently long hair is wet, wet and sticking to his face, which is also wet and making him glow – mostly his lips, that look as if raindrops had fallen on them, making them look delightful to eat, or something like that.
And Frank must know that Gerard is distracted, because he smirks like he does when they’re on stage and he’s about to do something that would make everyone scream and end up in thousands of Livejournal communities. He smirks like that at Gerard, and he’s probably about to say something witty about the forgotten crayon in Gerard’s hand or the water making him look like a drenched puppy (Ray had said that once when Gerard had come back, soaked to the bone after running through the rain to the bus) or about the whole situation, but Gerard doesn’t let him because he is pushing his own lips against Frank’s, making their wet bodies collide with each other.
Frank, who Gerard thought would either run away or laugh this all off, is actually kissing him back and even putting his wet hand against Gerard’s neck, playing with the hair there, and pulling it a bit, too.
When the kiss becomes heated enough that their bodies are almost thrusting against each other and Gerard can feel the erection forming in Frank’s boxers against his own mixed with the water falling from both their chests, Frank’s breaks the kiss.
It takes a few breaths before the guitarist can say what he apparently wanted to and what made him break the battle of tongues. “Of all the times,” he says, still breathing erratically, “Of all the times that I imagined fucking you, in your house with your mom in the kitchen was never an option.”
Gerard shivers, in part because of Frank’s warm breath on his lips, and in part because of the words – and the ideas that those words bring to his mind. “Okay,” he says, even though he doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to or if there’s anything to agree to at all.
“So, you’re going to color your fucking walls while I enjoy watching your tight, wet ass moving in front of me,” he smiles as he says that, “and then we’ll make an excuse so I can drag you to my hotel room and fuck you until you can’t scream anymore. Okay?”
There is something to agree to this time, but Gerard can’t find the words, so he kisses Frank again, the other man responding him without a second of hesitation.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Frank giggles when they break apart.
While starting to draw, with Frank making some pretty dirty remarks that almost cause Gerard to blush – almost - the singer thinks about changing the title on the crayons’ box.
Going from ‘Rub a Dub, draw in the tub’ to ‘Rub a guitarist, fuck in the tub’ seems oddly amusing to him.
~*~
{table with links to all fics}
…write is human, comment is divine…
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 06:39 pm (UTC)that line is classic! Oh man.
Thank you for writing this xD I can't wait for the next installment
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:30 pm (UTC)I find Gerard's mum so lovable lol XD
I cant wait for next part ^-^
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:48 pm (UTC)I loved it? There will be another part? oui? Non?! Why the hell am I speaking French?!
I hope there will be another part. I look forward to it ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:45 pm (UTC)oui il y a une autre partie. bientôt.
(what?! you stated the French not me! :DD)
thank you dear.
♥
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 07:53 pm (UTC)Now when I draw in my shower I'll be thinking of this, and wanting a Frank lol. Maybe I should draw him in my shower lmao
<3
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:46 pm (UTC)Good you liked it it was for you :D
eh, maybe you can get a Frank in that new store you go now =P
or that, which would be very amusing.
:D
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:01 pm (UTC)...Now I really want some of those crayons...
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:49 pm (UTC)oh, you too? =P my mom is bothering me with that too. i'm pretty sure those are cute.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:10 pm (UTC)“No, but if it’s Frank, please don’t be too loud.”
Going from ‘Rub a Dub, draw in the tub’ to ‘Rub a guitarist, fuck in the tub’ seems oddly amusing to him.
ROFLMAO!!! i love this, it was so fucking hilarious! oh man, the entire banter about getting undressed, and whether or not gerard was actually gonna draw on the walls was fucking priceless. this is definitly going into my memories, this was just so damn amazing. this had such a dirty innocence to it, i loved it. oh man, i love regression and doing childish things like drawing on the walls! i can't wait for the next bit! i just adore you're writing! the descriptions, and plots are so great!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:50 pm (UTC)that was the plan :D
i'm very glad you liked it babe, you comments always make me fee so happy. thank you! :D
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:36 pm (UTC)And awesome for me, since your fic was my introduction into MCR slash a month or two ago and was what started my obsession.
You write the boys so well. I love it.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:51 pm (UTC)ohhh *blushes* i'm glad i've done somenthing good! :D thank you for saying that! and for commenting :D
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:54 pm (UTC)“No, but if it’s Frank, please don’t be too loud.”
Ahh, I love you :D Haha
I swear you're going to make me forget that Frikey is my OTP.
And you're securely on the way to becoming one of my favourite writers :D
Crayons will never mean the same to me. (:
Memories. :D
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:53 pm (UTC)Frikey? like Frank/Mikey? *shuders* okay, we all have our wierd things =P no offense really dear. but i hope that i can make you like this one too :D
*blushes* thank you! thank you so much :D
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2007-05-15 07:02 am (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:57 pm (UTC)You are one of my favorate writers on here... if not my fav!! :) x
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:53 pm (UTC):DDD thank you for that too! means a lot to me.
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GAH!
this makes me wanna take a bath with B0TH of them
=)
g000d,greattt stuff!
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:54 pm (UTC)and thank you!!
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:45 pm (UTC)And here's a SHOWER. And my mind is blank. But my heart is full of love for you cause you're awesome.
(Mh. I think I'm about to ask for permission to translate this fic into Italian. Mh.)
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:56 pm (UTC)Thank you so much baby! really :D
(oh *feels very honored* you don't have my permission, dear, you have my placer.)
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Date: 2007-05-15 01:12 am (UTC)haha
loved this
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Date: 2007-05-15 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-15 04:57 am (UTC)LOL
Pese a que me morí de risa con el final, mi quote favorita, lejos fue:
“If you promise to stay in the lines, I’ll let you color a bit.”. No se porque, pero me lo imagine de una forma tan natural, que fue increíble.
Gracias por hacer viajar tanto nuestra pervertida imaginación!
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Date: 2007-05-15 02:55 pm (UTC)ahhh! thankyourthankyouthankyouthankyou you were the only one that noticed my favorite line :DD
Y siempre un placer querida :D
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Date: 2007-05-15 07:03 am (UTC)take that, insomnia!!!
loved it. yum.
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Date: 2007-05-15 02:56 pm (UTC)i'm glad you liked it :D thankies.
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Date: 2007-05-15 07:33 am (UTC)'Rub a guitarist, fuck in the tub'. Best line ever, I do believe.
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Date: 2007-05-15 02:56 pm (UTC)Thank you so much dear!
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Date: 2007-05-15 09:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-15 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-15 02:59 pm (UTC)+waits for the hotel+
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Date: 2007-05-15 03:01 pm (UTC)Thank you baby!
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Date: 2007-05-15 04:17 pm (UTC)anyway.
i loved this. :] it was so sweet.
i think that frank should've smacked donna for being so open, though.
donner: blahblahblah, imma talk about my son's sex life!
frank: -busts a cap- this is our sex life, gtfo plz.
=D
mems, definitely.
♥ you, stalker. <3
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Date: 2007-05-15 07:33 pm (UTC)usit :Dthank you baby, your comment is heaven for me and you know it.
haha, yeah that may have worked =P
i ♥♥ you, baby.
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Date: 2007-05-15 06:47 pm (UTC)I just love your style, it's so... free and lively! for example when I was reading this, every word stuck to my mind and I saw the whole story kind of in my own head. umm, it's hard to explain. but I really admire your writing-style.
and this story is so lovely, I mean it's at the same time so cute and still serious.
“So, you’re going to color your fucking walls while I enjoy watching your tight, wet ass moving in front of me,”
ahhh, Frank is always so entertaining :'D
this really cheered me up, so thanks.
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Date: 2007-05-15 07:34 pm (UTC)i'm very, very happy to know that my fic makes you feel like that, thank you so much for expressiong it :D comments like yours make me wanna keep on writing forever :D. thanks.
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From:no subject
Date: 2007-05-16 11:56 pm (UTC)Beautifully written!
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Date: 2007-05-19 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-19 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-19 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-23 03:41 am (UTC)yes. yes i did.