(no subject)
One morning, everyone woke up and found that the bus was missing a Bob Bryar. Mikey swore up and down that Bob had been on the laptop, last anyone had checked, and not left behind at the last rest stop as Gerard feared. Bob's headphones were still attached to the audio port, a sure sign Bob was not far off. Those headphones were one of Bob's treasures, an enormous pair from the seventies that obscured half his head when he put them on, painstakingly rewired years ago by some sound tech Bob would not discuss. Bob did not take his headphones lightly. Frank had to learn this the hard way, but learn he did. Even with Bob seemingly gone without a trace, Frank refused to touch the headphones until Gerard, in a last-ditch, desperate attempt to locate their drummer, convinced Frank that perhaps the way to bring Bob back was to tempt fate.
Frank gingerly pressed the tip of his index finger to the soft speaker covering, wincing as he did so. When it became apparent that Bob was not going to come leaping out of the floor to demand Frank pay in blood and firstborns he sagged, half with relief and half with sudden depression at this fundamental symbol of Bob's absence.
Ray was making vague, fluttery soothing motions around Gerard, who was having a small nervous fit.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Gerard hissed, batting away Frank's hands when he tried to join in the Gerard-calming. "Someone's going to have to tell Spencer."
Fear flitted across even Mikey's face.
"Not it," Frank said quickly.
Meanwhile, somewhere around Chicago (ish):
"We...we have a Bob Bryar, Kaely," Rosemary whispered in awe. The two girls' wide-eyed gaze flickered back and forth between the unconscious man sprawled on their floor and the computer screen from whence he had come.
"It appears we do," Rosemary agreed in equally hushed and awed tones. They stared at the room's sudden addition for a few more minutes.
"I would say 'let's try and get some more,' but I think the computer froze," Rosemary ventured at last.
"Plus, we have an unconscious Bob Bryar on our floor." Kaely bent down to examine the slack features. "At least, it looks like a Bob Bryar."
"What do you feed Bob Bryars?" Rosemary wondered.
"To the Internet!"
"It's frozen, remember?"
"Oh. Right. Well, um. I dunno, I guess we should make him coffee or something. And possibly get him some painkillers and an icepack; getting illegally downloaded is probably not very comfortable."
On the Panic! bus:
"I told you Bob Bryar was a ninja, Ross!" Brendon crowed, waving the Sidekick around as he danced through Ryan's living room. "MCR has proof!"
"I call bull! Just because he can throw drumsticks more accurately than you can and just because you're impressionable and found that one ninja!Bob AU --and the fangirls put "Don't google yourself or your friends" on their stories for a reason, Urie-- does not mean Bob Bryar is a fucking ninja!"
"Your sentences are too long. Anyway, Bob totally disappeared! The My Chem guys can't find him anywhere!" There was a frantic, tiny shouting from the Sidekick. Brendon ignored it; it could wait. His longstanding duel with Ryan over Bob's ninja honor was finally going to be concluded! The frantic, tiny shouting continued for a while until Ryan grabbed Brendon's phone and shut it, firing off a quick text that they were having a band meeting over the issue right now.
"You're a giant dork. And totally illogical. They could have left him at the venue or something," Ryan pointed out. "That does happen to them a lot."
"But not to Bob. Bob has gone missing and he's clearly off on a ninja mission or something badass like that!"
"EIther way, let's not tell Spencer when he comes over, okay?" Jon cut in, sidling into the room. "He's doing the thing again."
The three men shared a look. My Chemical Romance was due to come through Vegas in just over a week's time. Spencer had some internal clock that revolved around times his and Bob's schedule lined up. Spencer had some sort of eighth sense for it. When meeting-times drew nearer, Spencer got more and more excited in his own Spencer way, which was really hilarious and adorable and involved rearranging shoe trees when the strain of waiting got to be too much. On the boxer-wettingly terrifying side, Spencer had been known to exact cruel and ruthless revenge on everything and anything involved in the delay of Bob-Spencer happytimes.
Jon, Ryan, and Brendon agreed that *they* would not be the ones to drop the news on Spencer that his boyfriend was MIA. Besides, a week was a long time. There were eight whole days before Spencer expected Bob on the doorstep.
(Well, Jon would be back in Chicago in four days. Brendon and Ryan secretly decided that if worst came to worst, they would barricade themselves in the kitchen and make Jon tell Spencer.)
bleargh. i have far too much going on this week to be as ill as i am. D: D: D: the other day i had this mutant radioactive throat bug, i don't even know, but i slept for pretty much 26 hours over a 38 hour period. it was pretty surreal. it made me want to write sleep cuddling ficlets. maybe expect some of those? also i may throw up sometime in the next ten hours. we shall see how things go. (incidentally, i have a months-old plotless piece of fluff where ryan is throwing up on the bus and everyone is being all comfort-y. i think spencer should maybe help him shower, y/n?)
bahh, i still have a calculus hw and a half to make up, a genocide paper to write (though the teacher for that class is kind of a softie and also v sympathetic, so perhaps i can wheedle an extension. that would be awesome.) and physics homeworks to do. and finish visual aids for this speech i have to give, and memorize said speech. (FORENSUCKED!) and i have to write enough words to avoid bringing shame upon myself when i post the next chapter of that one fic where half the people are werewolves, and some of them have trouble getting their mates. ryan/brendon cuddles should be coming up, if i don't start vomiting before midnight.
i am going to have to sacrifice watching supernatural so my head doesn't explode. DDDDD:
IT'LL ALL BE FINE
<33
Frank gingerly pressed the tip of his index finger to the soft speaker covering, wincing as he did so. When it became apparent that Bob was not going to come leaping out of the floor to demand Frank pay in blood and firstborns he sagged, half with relief and half with sudden depression at this fundamental symbol of Bob's absence.
Ray was making vague, fluttery soothing motions around Gerard, who was having a small nervous fit.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Gerard hissed, batting away Frank's hands when he tried to join in the Gerard-calming. "Someone's going to have to tell Spencer."
Fear flitted across even Mikey's face.
"Not it," Frank said quickly.
Meanwhile, somewhere around Chicago (ish):
"We...we have a Bob Bryar, Kaely," Rosemary whispered in awe. The two girls' wide-eyed gaze flickered back and forth between the unconscious man sprawled on their floor and the computer screen from whence he had come.
"It appears we do," Rosemary agreed in equally hushed and awed tones. They stared at the room's sudden addition for a few more minutes.
"I would say 'let's try and get some more,' but I think the computer froze," Rosemary ventured at last.
"Plus, we have an unconscious Bob Bryar on our floor." Kaely bent down to examine the slack features. "At least, it looks like a Bob Bryar."
"What do you feed Bob Bryars?" Rosemary wondered.
"To the Internet!"
"It's frozen, remember?"
"Oh. Right. Well, um. I dunno, I guess we should make him coffee or something. And possibly get him some painkillers and an icepack; getting illegally downloaded is probably not very comfortable."
On the Panic! bus:
"I told you Bob Bryar was a ninja, Ross!" Brendon crowed, waving the Sidekick around as he danced through Ryan's living room. "MCR has proof!"
"I call bull! Just because he can throw drumsticks more accurately than you can and just because you're impressionable and found that one ninja!Bob AU --and the fangirls put "Don't google yourself or your friends" on their stories for a reason, Urie-- does not mean Bob Bryar is a fucking ninja!"
"Your sentences are too long. Anyway, Bob totally disappeared! The My Chem guys can't find him anywhere!" There was a frantic, tiny shouting from the Sidekick. Brendon ignored it; it could wait. His longstanding duel with Ryan over Bob's ninja honor was finally going to be concluded! The frantic, tiny shouting continued for a while until Ryan grabbed Brendon's phone and shut it, firing off a quick text that they were having a band meeting over the issue right now.
"You're a giant dork. And totally illogical. They could have left him at the venue or something," Ryan pointed out. "That does happen to them a lot."
"But not to Bob. Bob has gone missing and he's clearly off on a ninja mission or something badass like that!"
"EIther way, let's not tell Spencer when he comes over, okay?" Jon cut in, sidling into the room. "He's doing the thing again."
The three men shared a look. My Chemical Romance was due to come through Vegas in just over a week's time. Spencer had some internal clock that revolved around times his and Bob's schedule lined up. Spencer had some sort of eighth sense for it. When meeting-times drew nearer, Spencer got more and more excited in his own Spencer way, which was really hilarious and adorable and involved rearranging shoe trees when the strain of waiting got to be too much. On the boxer-wettingly terrifying side, Spencer had been known to exact cruel and ruthless revenge on everything and anything involved in the delay of Bob-Spencer happytimes.
Jon, Ryan, and Brendon agreed that *they* would not be the ones to drop the news on Spencer that his boyfriend was MIA. Besides, a week was a long time. There were eight whole days before Spencer expected Bob on the doorstep.
(Well, Jon would be back in Chicago in four days. Brendon and Ryan secretly decided that if worst came to worst, they would barricade themselves in the kitchen and make Jon tell Spencer.)
bleargh. i have far too much going on this week to be as ill as i am. D: D: D: the other day i had this mutant radioactive throat bug, i don't even know, but i slept for pretty much 26 hours over a 38 hour period. it was pretty surreal. it made me want to write sleep cuddling ficlets. maybe expect some of those? also i may throw up sometime in the next ten hours. we shall see how things go. (incidentally, i have a months-old plotless piece of fluff where ryan is throwing up on the bus and everyone is being all comfort-y. i think spencer should maybe help him shower, y/n?)
bahh, i still have a calculus hw and a half to make up, a genocide paper to write (though the teacher for that class is kind of a softie and also v sympathetic, so perhaps i can wheedle an extension. that would be awesome.) and physics homeworks to do. and finish visual aids for this speech i have to give, and memorize said speech. (FORENSUCKED!) and i have to write enough words to avoid bringing shame upon myself when i post the next chapter of that one fic where half the people are werewolves, and some of them have trouble getting their mates. ryan/brendon cuddles should be coming up, if i don't start vomiting before midnight.
i am going to have to sacrifice watching supernatural so my head doesn't explode. DDDDD:
IT'LL ALL BE FINE
<33