if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say

omgomggimmemoar

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 12:01:35 GMT

Lol, okay so the guys who have known me for some time know that I get obsession swings just like my mood swings, so I get seriously fangirly about something different practically every week... well here's some stuff I have just discovered and am now hooked on (until the next thing comes along):

1. Eddie Izzard

This is my new very favouritest comedian ever. Even more than Russel Brand. For seriously. Go watch Dress To Kill for a good example of his fabulousness X3

2. The Cab

I so doubted these guys when I first heard of them. But now I've promised someone a fic (working title: The League of Extraordinary Alexes ft. Alex Suarez lol) so I did my research and whoa. They are even cuter and dorkier than Brendon on Uppers. And they sound good! (although it's a bit Jonas Bros-y)

3. Mikey Way's Comic Debut

*does not have picture*

But guys! Guys! He's doing Batman for DC's Halloween Special! Batman as a Vampire! *squees*

Hay eventful week! How ya doin'?

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 19:44:44 GMT

*I have just signed up to take A-level Art, Physics and English. I have no idea what the hell I was thinking when I chose Physics, since I only barely passed my O-level, but what's done is done I guess... So, back to school in two weeks or so. I probably sound like a complete nerd but I can't wait.

*I am also creating a board game with my little brother (he is the Mikey to my Gerard, for seriously. We would get married if we could :D) based off of this only our version has the players as bands and they have to go around the board collecting instruments and fighting "monsters" like an angry manager and a groupie who's really a man and a zombie support group XD I will post photos as soon as it's done I swear!

*I have gone everywhere since saturday with a scarf tied around my knee and I even drew a little star on my cheek yesterday. I think I have Bill-Beckett-symdrome. This is because of Fast Times At Barrington High, which is the best album ever.

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 17:46:57 GMT

Here's a little something while I practice for my epic My Chem vs. Zombie-robot-vampires comic!fic:

I guess you could call this the Before I Pull This Trigger Graphic Novel? Sort of? Anyway, it'll be like, about ten-to-fifteen pages long, while I work out how this whole comic-writing thing works.

Fri, 19 Sep 2008 18:55:12 GMT

Oh, Jesus.

I am going to write a comic!fic. It will have Gerard's drawing's coming to life and wrecking apocalyptic havoc, Ray fixing everything, Mikey being asleep and Frank being cute. Only problem is, if you were Gerard, how would you get rid of a world-ending army of zombie-robot vampires?

Because jokershorts always make me lol

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 15:32:06 GMT

I WENT ON A BATMAN-DOWLOADING RAMPAGE AND NOW CANNOT FOCUS ON ANYTHIINNGGG EEELLSEEEE D:

Why, DC comics? Why?

Hospital-Gee Drabble

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 11:18:45 GMT

Gerard stumbles into Emergency with Mikey’s arms round his shoulders. Collapses on the floor, empties his guts on the tiles while someone (could be Mikey again) talks to the doctor or nurse or whoever the fuck those slippered-feet belong to. He blinks tears down his cheeks, unashamed, unaware, and barely notices when he’s yanked up into a wheelchair.

There’s an eternity of brightly-lit corridor punctuated only by the nurse’s heavy footsteps, heavy breathing, Gerard’s getting motion-sickness just staring at the doors going past and he’s just ready to throw up again when they stop and then he’s on a bed.

Stretched out, sleeve pushed up, a needle stuck through his skin before he can even blink. He screams, in pain but mostly terror, because god, oh god, needles and Mikey’s there again, materialized beside him and stroking his hair. Someone asks a lot of questions in a language that Gerard should understand but doesn’t and then it’s back on the wheelchair, back out into those endless tunnels.

He has another moment of mindless fear when one door opens and there is only darkness beyond, a tiny spot of light on the nurses’ desk at the very end of this nightmare, and he almost screams again… but by then they’re inside that spot of light and there’s a woman helping him gently into another bed and he struggles a bit against the pain and nausea and exhaustion, because he knows what horrifying things they may do to him if he can’t stop them, blood and scalpels and organs and more blood appearing in his mind’s eye. He sees the catheter stuck in his arm and vomits again, all over the sheets, before blacking out against his will.

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 08:02:41 GMT

      Okaay, so I stay up till 6 in the morning on Sunday(from 2am) to watch the VMAs only to find out my little sister should have been watching them instead. I mean, Hannah Montana, The Jonas Brothers, Drake and Josh aaand guys from High School Musical?! Everyone either had cleavage twice the size of their brains, was underage or black... no wonder we have no decent music these days (NB I am not racist I just hate rap, just like any self-respecting rocker) And Pete was sickeningly cute. Not in a good way, either. All that being said, I am totally straight for Russel Brand *eyes light up with little hearts in*

      Overcome by a huge sense of OMG-I'm-too-young-to-work-a-full-time-job-I-am-not-middle-aged-yet-you-bastards I have decided to go to Higher Secondary. For all you foreigners, I have no idea what that is but probably college... I'm going to get A-levels, anyway. Which means, yay, school again! I am a huge nerd tbh.

      I really want to write future!fic where they're all, like, fifty and have grey hair and rush aroung chasing each other's kids and stuff... maybe Pete/ Patrick with Joe happily married with kids, or Brendon/ Ryan with Jon being the straight one, or you get the idea. I'm putting it off for now though, cause I always think that type of fic is really sad so you guys'll have to wait till I'm feeling more depressed before I type it up.

Sat, 06 Sep 2008 17:13:22 GMT

Misery Meal- The polar opposite of the Happy Meal...

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 11:01:22 GMT

I finally managed to post my Batman/ bandom crack!fic. Go check it out over at my alter-ego journal t_o_o_m.

IF YOU ONLY EVER READ ONE PIECE OF BATMAN FANSTUFFS LET THIS BE IT

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 13:12:34 GMT

This is seriously, seriously the. Funniest. Thing. Since me and my brother spent a whole evening putting on old-man-cowboy voices and pretending to tell stories about the wild west (which had crossdressing!Bill Beckett, Sherrif!Toro-thighs, the Way brothers who didn't actually do anything except hang around looking emo in black stetsons and killing people's rattlesnakes, Brendon as that-piano-playing-guy-in-the-bar, ect... I see a fic in there somewhere but I'm too lazy to write it).

BACK TO THE POINT. BATMAN SPOOF, IN SCRIPT FORM. DO NOT LET THIS PUT YOU OFF.

>.> A LINK. YOU CAN HAS IT. Now run along and pls to stop thinking I've gone off the deep end D:

Rant Post

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 07:46:47 GMT

1. My parents have gone off to Sicily for three days and left my brother and sister at my grandma's, so i am completely and utterly alone in the house for three days to cope with what i am seriously afraid might turn out to be mild Bi-polar Disorder (no, I'm not exaggerrating...)

2. I went to dye my hair a unique and wacky shade of pink that will blow people's minds... and my fucking hairdresser gave me muted violet that doesn't show inside. I find it terribly, terribly disappointing that Gerard Way has pinker hair than me D:

3. I finished my completely awesome Panic At The Disco/ Batman crossover crack!fic (ghostmachines that was all your fault for saying the henchmen look like they're from a Panic video), and it's even been beta'd, but LJ is messing with me and won't put it under a cut. Is this happening to anyone else?!

4. I spent 22.85 euros on Batman comics (A Death In The Family and Going Sane) and have ordered the first All-star Batman book in hardback, which will set me back another 30-odd euros when I go pick it up on the 18th. Money managenent skills are things that happen to other people, I think...

I know... two posts in one day but >.>

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 07:53:46 GMT

idek you guys

If the phone rings once and there's nobody there when you pick up, it's for Marla...

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 07:05:52 GMT

So, I've been released, out on parole, a citizen again ect. Apparently I have an ulcer in embarrassing places that I'm going to have to go get checked out again in two months' time, but apart from that I'm just hunky dory....

Hunky-dory-er now I've heard the most brilliant news an anime nut and extreme batman fan could ever hope to hear- they made an ANIME OF THE NOLAN FILMS! XDXDXD! As in, there are a bunch of different artists who each made a short anime film, each from different angles and points of view, based directly on incidents that may have occurred between Batman Begins and Dark Knight. There are 5 in all. What's so great about this is, I've already encountered these artists, because they did the same thing for the Matrix (it's called the Animatrix) and they rocked my socks so far off they probably reached the moon. AWESOMEEEE!-

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 11:31:04 GMT

So, I'm typing this from a hospital bed, wishing my arm would just stfu and stop hurting like a bitch...
Nothing serious though. My mum rushed me to the emergency ward last night because she thought I had appendicitis (which I don't thank god) but they're still keeping until tomorrow morning to do more tests and stuff. And they insisted on putting me on a drip, so I can't move my right elbow and because the ac makes everything so goddamn cold, my whole arm's stiff and painful. Oh, and the jokes about hospital food? They're not jokes D:

Bat-madness

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 17:19:06 GMT

Well, it's been a while... a while in which:

A) I went to watch Batman for a second time, this time at a much better cinema with a much huger screen, even though I couldn't afford it.
B) I almost fainted with joy at the sight of The Joker and Batman t-shirts in FCUK... on sale!!!!
C) I got really into Bat-fandom.

Fic-wise: to utterbasketcase and thesleepless84, I am really sorry the space-fic is taking so long but, with any luck, it's gonna be worth the wait, so bear with me. Other than that, what BAtman pairing should I write, Joker/ Two-face or Joker/ Scarecrow? For great examples of Joker-fics (to get you into this too ^^) go read http://saint-sorrows.livejournal.com/16446.html#cutid1 (Gerard/ Joker slash) and http://mercuriazs.livejournal.com/124044.html (Joker/ Scarecrow slash)

Fan-stuffs

Thu, 07 Aug 2008 10:19:58 GMT

Pretty much speaks for itself, eh? Drawn on the bus in my diary coming home from work...

WHY SO SERIOUS?!

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 11:42:11 GMT

OMG they weren't exaggerrating when they said Joker was Heath Ledger's best performance. I was afraid that Christopher Nolan wouldn't explore the Joker's character very well (I really really hated Batman Begins) but wow. Admittedly, I thought Jack Nicholson was more in keeping with the traditional Joker, but Heath Ledger's was just taken from a different angle... I wonder if anyone will ever have the guts to do a movie completely from the villain's point of view. Not with, like, the villain turning good at the end or just being a bit naughty, but a true, honest-to-god insane villain who wants to be a villain. That would be so interesting.

Apart from Bat-dude, yesterday I totally had a threesome in the filthy bathroom of a gay bar. Who'd have thought? Lol, apparently the girl knew me from secondary school, and works in the same building as my mum... I can see how this could get awkward if I play my cards wrong...

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 10:18:17 GMT

Aaaah I'm going to see Batman on saturday with ghostmachinesand then we're gonna go drink so much we'll probably throw up and it's gonna be awesome XD SO awesome!
I am way too excited about this...

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 09:33:12 GMT

      Aaaaah I finally got a new pair of shoes, real Converse this time, to replace the Vans with the holes 1" across in the soles... anyway,the new ones are by this artist Tiffany something and have really cool swirly, blobby, line-y designs all over and the words "Jigaram, you are my liver" on the inside XD I love them already!

      I'm going to seriously look for a new job now, because my boss who hates me has told me to work today through to sunday, all night shifts D:

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 07:05:17 GMT

      So, yesterday the monotony was broken by this guy I have never seen before in my life coming up to me at 2am (at work) to rant about the awful conditions battery chickens are kept in. And then my boss punched me because she thought I was chatting with a friend instead of serving customers...

      Damn I got really hyped about going to see Batman with Gary, and then I noticed it hasn't actually come out in Malta yet D: We must be the only ones in the whole world (including those tiny tribes in the sahara) who haven't seen it yet! But now I've got this little obsession with Batman in general, because then I went and watched the old movies, and looked up the comics on the ~worldwideweb and LOL NOW I REMEMBER WHY BATMAN IS MY FAVOURITE GAYEST SUPERHERO EVER ^^

      I am going to the hairdresser soon for what is something like my bi-annual hair-cut (if that). I'm either getting a Frank-hawk (skunk stripe and all) or a mikeyway with the stupid fake-sideburn-y things... IDK, cause maybe the 'hawk will make me look too much like a guy. But I have the same face-shape as Frank so I know it'll suit me... GUH I hate making decisions! Maybe I'll just leave it grow and become a fro, because dude, yes, my hair does that...

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 17:54:16 GMT

Okaaay, so I have to write these fics:

*First of all

where is all the Gerard/ Chester Bennington fic?! I mean, come on, My Chem tours with Linkin Park, both of the singers with previous drug-related problems, both with fascinations with huge, ugly sunglasses, they make art books together and no one thinks to make a pairing? Well, if you want something done right, you've gotta do it yourself...

*Second, a Gerard in car accident fic, because how could I not after the rumour?

*Third, lol I just have to finish my spaceship!fic but that probably doesn't count...

My boss seems to think I should either be in kindergarten or a mad house

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 06:54:40 GMT

      Oh my god, I must seem so slow to other people D: Seriously, my mind thinks in squiggles instead of straight lines, but I get there in the end. I am incapable of thinking logically but that doesn't mean I'm retarded...
     On the other hand, I do fail at everything I try to do properly. Come on, guys, wake up. I can't really write. I can't draw to save my life. I'm gonna end up a fast-food cashier until I'm, like, 82. All I'm really capable of is thinking about stuff for way too long and then letting it distract me from real life.

~*~

"Strictly speaking, the tomato isn't a vegetable. It's really a type of dolphin."  from Great Lies to Tell Small Kids by Andy Riley

It is waaayyy past my bedtime...

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 17:32:37 GMT

Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering my 26th hour without sleep. This has been the craziest day ever. Lets start at the beginning: at about 4pm yesterday I had this weird dream where me and some girl were under the sea in a huge candy-cavern, which turned into a tunnel which burst under the pressure of the sea, spewing us all over the North-pole where my brother was waiting with little figures of Mandy from The Grim Adventures Of Billy And Mandy. Then I woke up and went to work, at SFC. At 9 this morning I went to do laundry at my mum's work (won't even go into all the details of that) and then all the kids where my mum works got their stuff stolen(she's the manager for a school teaching English to students from abroad, so this is a big deal). And now I'm listening to MSI (thanks to idktbh) at full blast in an internet cafe, feeling drugged, and wondering whether I should post Greta/ Vicky T Femmeslash or not...
Which I wiill:

      They're all at some gigantic FBR party Pete organised for Panic's new album and Greta is perched on this little purple sofa-thing, cradling her small Jack-coke and watching everyone else dance and wondering when it will be socially acceptable to leave. She's just settled on about one-ish, which is only half an hour away, when someone throws themself down beside her in a very un-lady-like manner and says, "Wanna dance?"
     Greta turns to face Vicky, whose hair is sticking up in that weird way it does, straight-up and then straight down again, and wonders how many of those sticky, umbrella-festooned drinks she's had.
     "Um, I don't dance..."
     Vicky laughs. "Everyone dances," she says, with utter certainty. "Only none of the boys wants to dance with me because they're all too busy dancing with each other..." It's true that about most of the couples on the dance-floor are guys but Greta doesn't really see why that means she has to dance with Vicky. Greta really really  has two left feet and she glances down at them now, in their sensible-looking Mary-janes, contrasting with Vicky's four-inch bright-red pumps, and before she knows it she's been janked upright into Vicky's arms.
      They stumble around a bit until Vicky snorts and says, "Dude. You are a bad dancer." And as Greta's nodding and trying to get back to her warm spot on the sofa Vicky grabs her chin and says, "Are you bad at other stuff too?", which in Greta's opinion, is the worst pick up line ever used by someone who isn't Pete Wentz, just before she smooshes their lips together. Vicky tastes like vodka and whatever she was mixing it with and the plastic-fruitness of her lipstick is kind of gross, but Greta thinks she makes up for it with the way she lets her tongue play with Greta's bottom lip. Greta lets herself be pushed backwards against a wall and wriggles a bit until her boobs are pressing deliciously tightly against Vicky's.
     As it turns out, Greta does leave the party at one. But not exactly for the reason she first thought....

Wanings: Femmeslash and badly written at that. 333 words, so it's half-way satanic, even.

Meme Number IDEK

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 06:37:29 GMT

A) People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.

B) Tag eight people to do this quiz and those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people state who they are tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.

Tagged by idktbh. I tag... anyone on my friends list who hasn't doen this yet, cause I'm not sure I even have 8 different people to tag D:

1. How has LJ changed your life?
Dude, take a look at all the slash I read... I've been reading at least one fic a day (not an average, I seriously never missed a single day) for 76% of my life, and it's all due to LJ.

2. What do you do before bedtime?
*looks shifty and thinks up PG answer* I read my book *nods*

3. What were your parents going to name you if you'd been born the opposite gender?
Thomas! ^^

4. What object would best describe you?
IDK... a bed? Lol I'm lazy as shit.

5. Have you ever had your heart broken?
Nope. Not what you can call actually broken.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Being loved. Totally.

7. Do you trust easily?
No. The complete opposite in fact. It'll take a long time for me to trust you tbh.

8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Tell them anyway. Just so they know.

9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
The fact that "you're doing it wrong" is the motto of my bosses D:

10. Is there anything that has made you really happy these days?
...
uh, the fact that I've started having really good dreams again? *weirdo answer*

11. Is being tagged fun?
Nooooo it's not. Don't do it bbs.

12. How do you see yourself?
As someone who can't do a simple thing like remember to punch-in and -out at work but who can totally think philosophy without hurting her brain (too much). Which is what I am.

13. Who are currently the most important people to you?
My mum and dad, who were really okay about me coming out, and who I love to bits.

14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
An awesome picspam maker ^^ lol, sorry, but I haven't had much time to get to know you better bb.

15. Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
Oh, god. How rich?

16. How many children do you want to have, if any?
None.

17. What's better: to give or to receive?
To give, cause people always manage to give you something you don't want or don't need and that's embarrassing.

18. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
The one I've know for longer.

19. Would you have 100% safe sex with a stranger for $10,000,000?
YES *is a whore*

20. Currently fangirling over:
Hyperdrive. Holy cow, I wish they were still showing that on BBC! I will download it one day...

So Get Back, Back, Back (to where we lasted)

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 17:22:03 GMT

*So Get Back, Back, Back (to where we lasted)
~PG
~Brendon/ Spencer, Brendon/ Ryan

So Get Back, Back, Back (to where we lasted)

He wakes up not even knowing who he is. He lies flat on his back, closes his eyes and thinks. His name. It’s some thing with a B, he knows. What names begin with B? Bernard? No, no but close… Brendan? He winces. Not Brendan. Brendon then? Yes, that feels right, feels comfortable, familiar.

So Brendon opens his eyes again, blinks in the bright light and looks sideways. The sheets on his bed are green, a sick, minty green no one would willingly sleep on. Hospital, his mind provides, and he nods to himself. Then someone says, “Oh, god, you’re awake! Oh my god!”

Brendon looks further and sees a young man rising from his bedside chair. He’s thin, really, really thin, and his glossy fringe falls just short of chocolaty eyes full of worry.

“Bren! Brendon, are you okay?” The man touches Brendon’s arm, and for a minute all Brendon can think is that yes, he got his name right and right after that, how the hell does this man know him?

“How are you feeling?”

“Um, Okay?” Brendon doesn’t want to seem impolite but this is kind of creeping him out. “Uh, sorry, do I know you?”

The man’s eyebrows crinkle together. “Bren, stop messing around.” Brendon bites his lip and tries to put a name to the face or something, but he could have sworn he’s never seen this man before in his life. His confusion must show on his face because the man takes a step back, looking slightly horrified.

“Bren, it’s me. Ryan,” he says. “Ryan Ross…”

Brendon has never heard that name before. He shrugs, feeling bad when the man looks panicky.

“I’ll get Spencer,” he tells Brendon, voice shaking. “And, and Jon and a nurse or something…”

Ryan comes back with a doctor and two more men. They all crowd round him until the doctor tells them to give him some air and then Ryan says, “He doesn’t remember.” One of the other men, with long hair and blue, blue eyes leans forward, lips pursed.

“Brendon. This isn’t funny. Give it up,” he says this like he’s had to say it thousands of times before and Brendon wonders if he’s pissed this guy off before, but he couldn’t have, he has no idea who he is.

“Who are you?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Oh, come on.” Brendon shakes his head, disorientated and a bit scared.

“Bren, look at me.” This man has a beard and rests his fingers on Brendon’s cheek gently. He stares into Brendon’s eyes for a long time, then straightens up. “He’s not playing,” he says. The doctor makes a ‘hmmm’ noise and pulls them all away, out of hearing-distance, and Brendon can feel the start of a headache creeping round the back of his head, so he lies back, not even trying to read lips. His head is spinning and he afraid, he doesn’t think he knows what city they’re in, he definitely has no idea who all these people are and he knows something is horribly wrong.

When he comes round the doctor is still there, although Ryan and the others aren’t with him now. Brendon listens silently as the doctor explains quietly about a car accident and head collision and slight brain damage and amnesia of indefinite severity. Brendon understands about half of what he’s told, but he gets that no one knows how long this is going to last and he gets that he’s not going to be able to recognize much from now on. The doctor says he can go home, as long as he allows his friends to look after him, since being in familiar surroundings might jog his memory, and when he leaves Ryan comes back again. Apparently Ryan is his best friend.

“We’re taking you back to Vegas in the morning,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. Vegas. Brendon thinks of slot machines and flashing lights and glitz and glitter and doesn’t believe he actually lives there. “Do I have a house?” he asks.

“No. No, you have an apartment.”

“Do you live nearby?” Ryan nods.

“We all do,” he says. “Well, not Jon. But he’s going to rent a flat nearby for now.”

Brendon looks at him, uncomprehending, and Ryan bites his lip hard.

“Jon’s the one with the beard,” he says, gesturing towards his own face, desperate. “You know. And Spencer…”

“Ryan,” Brendon doesn’t like seeing Ryan this flustered and helpless-looking. “Ryan, I’m sorry. But I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you guys.”

Ryan opens the door to a small apartment and Brendon wanders inside, trailing his hands over happy yellow walls and framed photos of four guys. He stares hard at one of these photos, where they’re all lying on a sofa in a big comfortable heap, grinning like idiots, and he feels so lousy for not being able to remember any of that. In the tiny living room is a baby grand piano that must have cost thousands and Brendon’s heart wells up with something that makes him close his eyes for a moment.

“Do I play?” He asks, slightly breathless, running his hands over the lid before opening it and sitting. He feels so much more familiar with this than with anything else he’s encountered since he left the hospital and his fingers tingle as he touches the keys.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. “Yeah. You’re good.”

Brendon plays a few notes, and he wants to just sit here for the rest of the day, here in the sunlight from the window, and the smell of wood and varnish. Ryan shows him all his other instruments, because apparently he totally loves music, and he actually owns eight different guitars, three basses, a little upright piano (as well as the baby grand), a drum kit, a cello and a rusty accordion. He’s surprised any furniture fits in the flat around all this junk, as Ryan calls it, although he thinks the word junk is a bit harsh as he strokes his guitars fondly.

It takes Brendon a few days to get used to where everything is in his home, a few days of just wandering around, opening cupboards and peeking on top of wardrobes, wondering if he has any special hiding-places, and if he owns worth hiding anyway. He seems to be the most disorganized person in existence, with books shoved into cupboards beside plates and bowls, and CDs stacked up on an ancient armchair, about to topple, and all his guitars just lying all over his bedroom floor. He also has the biggest collection of sugar-filled foods outside a candy shop, chocolates and boiled sweets and lollypops and those chewy animals and, like, five types of syrup in his fridge, and he manages to eat most of it in one night while watching a DVD labeled ‘My Favorite Movie’ (Brendon thinks he might be a bit of a dork sometimes) which turns out to be something called The Little Mermaid. Brendon decides he really likes the crab. It reminds him of someone he thinks he might have known once.

Brendon sort of figures his friends out after the first week or so, manages to work out how Jon is the one who solves problems between them, and smoothes out any wrinkles in their relationships, and how Spencer pretends to be tough and macho but lets his emotions out sometimes in the form of brilliant, sun-lit smiles or flashes of hurt behind his beautiful eyes. Brendon feels Ryan is the hardest to get to know, because he has mood swings like a teenager, one moment he can be cuddly and telling Brendon the best jokes ever and the next he’s be pushing Brendon away and tell him to “stop fucking touching me already, Urie, I’m not a soft-toy.” Jon and Ryan visit Brendon almost everyday, and sometimes Ryan comes alone, so Brendon slowly gets used to how he can touch Ryan and he definitely starts feeling the most intimate with him, the way he can just tell Ryan anything and Ryan will talk him through his past so he can understand his own thoughts.

Spencer visits less often, and never at the same time as Ryan, and he always looks hopeful when Brendon opens the door and disappointed when Brendon greets him like he always does, “Hey, Spencer!” This is very confusing for Brendon. He wonders what it is Spencer is expecting from him; they talk for hours and watch movies and have dinner together and Brendon acts just the same as he does with Ryan and Jon, but Spencer still leaves with a sad look in his eyes every time. When Brendon tries to ask Ryan about it he changes the subject forcefully or ignores the question. Brendon gets the feeling Ryan and Spencer have some sort of… disagreement or something, because Spencer hates talking about Ryan and there’s one time when Spencer does come over while Ryan’s still there, just as Ryan is pinning Brendon against the kitchen table, and Brendon pulls his head back sharply from Ryan’s lips, from an unexpected kiss, and Spencer drags Ryan off to the next room, leaving Brendon to try to decipher the raised voices through the wall. At one point there’s a loud thump against the wall, like someone’s thrown something (Brendon finds himself hoping it wasn’t expensive), and Spencer yells, “Just do whatever you fucking want, you motherfucker!” and then Ryan, “He doesn’t fucking remember anyway, you retard!” and Brendon shies away uncomfortably, knowing they’re talking about him.

“Spence?” he asks tentatively, as Spencer storms out and grabs his coat. Spencer just glares, hurt and anger and tears flashing in his eyes before he leaves, slamming the door. Ryan comes up behind Brendon and puts his hands on his hips.

“He’s just not feeling very well at the moment,” he murmurs, pulling Brendon against his chest and kissing his cheek.

“Ryan,” Brendon twists away from Ryan. “Were we… um, were we anything? Before, I mean…”

Ryan pauses but shakes his head. “But we could be now,” he says, stepping close again. “If you want.”

Spencer doesn’t visit Brendon anymore, but for the first few days Brendon is too wrapped up in his own emotions to even notice. He knows he’s attracted to Ryan, it’s hard not to be, because Ryan is maybe the most beautiful person he’s ever met, but he’s not sure if it’s love yet. He feels awkward sometimes, making out with Ryan, as if he’s doing it wrong, even though Ryan’s assured him he’s great, and then he realizes that he hasn’t seen Spencer in over a week, and feels a connection between the two, so eventually he does the most logical thing and phones Jon about it.

“Yeah?” Jon answers the phone with a mumble on the seventh ring, just as Brendon was about to hang up, and Brendon glances at the clock. It’s almost one in the morning.

“Oh, god, are you in bed?” he asks frantically. “Shit, sorry, I’ll phone back later!”

His hand has already moved to put the phone down before Jon says, “Nah, s’okay. What’s up?”

Brendon twirls the phone-cord.

“Well, Spencer never comes round anymore and I’m kind of worried…” he figures the whole Ryan thing can wait. He’s kind of more worried about Spencer.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Jon says. “It’s not like Spence to ignore you.”

“Um… last week? I don’t know, he had this argument with Ryan.”

There’s sudden, complete, hear-that-pin-drop silence on the other end of the phone for a second, so much that Brendon thinks Jon hung up on him until he starts talking again.

“Bren,” Jon’s voice is kind of scarily serious now. “What was the argument about?”

“I don’t know!” Brendon says helplessly. “He just walked in, and, and I was kissing, I mean, Ryan kissed me and…” There’s a gasp.

“Bren, I’m coming round.”

Half an hour later Brendon’s opening the door and offering Jon coffee and stroking the bundle of fur in his arms.

“Hey, kitty.” The cat gives him a Look and snuggles further into Jon’s chest.

“Dylan doesn’t like being called kitty,” Jon laughs shortly, following Brendon into the kitchen and putting Dylan on the table. “I thought he’d help. I always talk better with a cat around.”

Brendon looks at Dylan, who is currently trying to poke his nose down Brendon’s coffee cup, and says,“Yeah, well.”

“Anyway,” Jon waves a hand. “Ryan.”

Brendon blushes a bit. “We were just hanging out, like usual, and then he sort of came up really close and kissed me, and then Spencer came in, I don’t think he knew Ryan was there, and he kicked Ryan’s ass… and then he left and Ryan said he was just moody…”

“Ryan would,” Jon mutters, then, louder, says, “So now what are you two doing? You and Ryan?”

“Well, we’re dating,” Brendon rubs behind Dylan’s ears and tries to ignore the feeling of wrongness about that sentence. “At least, making out and having sex a lot.”

Jon bites his lip, “This is not good.” He cups his hands around his mug and looks Brendon in the eye.

“Brendon. Before your… accident… you were going out with Spencer.”

It’s blunt, no beating about the bush, and Brendon feels thrown. He just stares at Jon for a minute, his hand just resting on Dylan’s head until he wriggles away.

“Um,” he says.

And Jon tells him all about how he and Spencer had been dating for, like, years and had practically been living together, about how jealous Ryan had been because he was in love with Brendon and he thought Brendon was taking away his best friend as well, about the fights Spencer and Ryan had had about this before, even drawing blood on occasion.

“But why didn’t Spencer say anything?” Brendon asks when Jon finishes.

“I think he thought you’d remember,” Jon says quietly. “He doesn’t like to make a fuss about things, he just clams up.” This explains Spencer being weird whenever he came to visit, and Brendon feels so guilty for not trying to find out what was wrong sooner.

“I’m going to Spencer’s,” he says, standing and searching around the room for a hoodie. “Give me a lift?”

Jon waits in the car with Dylan as Brendon rings Spencer’s doorbell, shivering a bit in a cool breeze. He rings again, impatient, and hears Spencer yell, “I’m fucking coming!”

He opens the door just looking groggy, but his mouth tightens when he sees Brendon.

“Yes?” Brendon winces at the sharpness in Spencer’s voice.

“I’m sorry Spence,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Spencer narrows his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Spencer…” Brendon can’t think of what to do, or say, and he stands there, twisting his hoodie into his fingers until he hears the seams creak their protest. “Spence, please…”

“The doctor said you’d remember things that were really important to you,” Spencer says eventually, breaking the awkward silence. His voice sounds choked-up, like it’s a huge effort to push the words out of his mouth. “And I thought, even if you didn’t remember me, maybe you could fall in love with me again, I mean it wasn’t that absurd, but you and Ryan…” Brendon sees the wetness in his eyes and he wants to remember how to comfort him, he wants to know what Spencer needs to make this better; he takes a step closer and hugs Spencer tightly.

“I don’t love him, Spence. Really I don’t.”

Spencer sighs wetly against Brendon’s neck, says, “You don’t love me either.”

Brendon looks down at Spencer, and kisses him quickly, before he can change his mind, because maybe it will fix all of this, and like this, with Spencer’s lips pressed gently against his own, his chest suddenly tightens with an emotion he doesn’t know the origins of. It well up inside him, this odd feeling of being complete and he thinks he knows what it is. He tilts his head a bit, deepening the kiss, and he knows exactly what to do, how to move his mouth against Spencer’s, and when they pull apart he smiles kind of shyly.

“I think I do remember,” he says, taking Spencer’s shaking hand and rubbing the knuckles. “Not all of it, but… enough, I guess.”

The way Spencer’s face lights up is like all of Brendon’s birthdays and Christmases all coming at once, and he pulls him back into a rib-crushing hug before laughing his ass off when Spencer says, “So, um, do you want to go out to dinner sometime?”

~end

A/N: Amnesia!fic, which should have been much longer and angsty but whatever... Beta'd by utterbasketcaseand thesleepless84as usual (thanks guys) and posted as soon as possible for idktbh^^ Title from the song Memory by Sugarcult, which was suggested to me by thesleepless84. Banner-thingie done by me on photoshop, yay!