flist! i require thy aid!
hi, guys. becca here, obviously, and i have a little question for y'all. i have a few stories that i've started writing and not posted, and i wanted to know if there were any opinions as to which i ought to finish. so, i'm taking a vote. i'll give you brief overviews and then snippets of them and you can decide which i continue. the help would be much appreciated. :D
#1- Basically, everyone from Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and a few scattered others all work at the mall, or at some little shop that is an off-branch of the mall. They all hang out and sex each other. It's sort of hilarious and I'm really not all that sure what inspired it.
Snippet:
Thursday afternoons are the days that Maja looks forward to the most. These are the days that the brown-eyed boy who works at the video rental store on the first floor near the west side parking lot wanders in searching for comfortable-but-still-sexy underwear (and maybe a sheer top, if he’s gotten a bonus that week) to wrap in tissue paper for his girlfriend. Maja has never met his girlfriend, and she doubts very much that she ever will.
He wanders in at two-fifteen, like clockwork, in a pair of acid-washed jeans and a vintage-print t-shirt he probably found on a sale rack at Ross. Maja grins and kisses his cheek.
“Ryan, darling, welcome back,” she greets quietly. Ryan isn’t exactly shy, but he spooks easily if she draws attention to his presence. She figured that out after his third visit. “What are you looking for today?”
Ryan flushes a bit and says softly, “Something blue, maybe. Lacy, if you have it.”
Maja grins and leads him toward the back, where they keep the prettier pieces.
He walks out later with two different pairs of underwear and a matching top. Maja hugs him goodbye and mentally congratulates herself on steering him away from the blue. After all, the pink goes much better with his eyes.
#2- So, this is a horribly AU religious!fic, where the rapture is imminent and God and Satan are both starting to gather their armies to their sides. This splits people's lives apart. (This one is cooler than it sounds; I'm not doing it justice with the brief. :/)
Snippet:
“It’s been awhile,” he says, more to get himself into the groove of speaking politely and keeping his meanings and feelings blatant than to actually converse. It’s been a long, long time since he’s done this, and he’s more than a bit out of practice. He runs a hand over a dusty old Bible the church keeps on a pedestal in front of the statue, although he cannot comprehend why they would do such a thing. His eyes flicker up to the statue’s face.
“I trust that You know this is no social call. I did not come to worship or ask forgiveness. You know my remorse and You know my joy and I have no interest in lying to someone who already possesses all the answers. I merely come to ask a few questions.” He pauses, sighing and letting his hand fall from the leather volume to his side. His gaze is trained on the face of the statue, burning into the soulless bronze eyes.
“Why him?” And Gerard is surprised at just how much he is actually pleading. “There are a million others that You can have! They wait like candy in a dish, craving Your beckon, Your guidance! Throughout my entire existence I have asked You for but one thing, and that is him. Please, please, do not do this!”
#3- Gerard and Mikey are tomb robbers who get sent on a dig in Egypt to attempt and steal valuable treasure when one of their other assignments falls through. While in Egypt, they meet one of the archaeologists in charge of the expedition, one Frank Iero. When the time comes to steal the loot, will they be able to do it? Or will someone else beat them to it?
Snippet:
Gerard feels his eyes narrow, yellow and catlike in the gloom of the furthest inner chamber, and he knows that this is one of the hazards of the job; that one day you’ll show up to some big find and there will just be nothing there, because someone was either smarter, quicker, or just plain luckier than you. This knowledge is not comforting, however, and does nothing at all to stop him from muttering, “Twelve hundred-thousand miles for a case that’s empty. We’d better be having a chat with Bob when we get back.”
“We will,” Mikey promises, and the lenses of his glasses glint dangerously, much like the slight hiss to his words. Gerard snaps his lighter closed and the two of them are shrouded in darkness.
#4- All right. This one is a longer fic...or it will be if I ever finish it. Gerard is the one destined to save the world, Gabe Saporta might be the devil, I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, the basic gist is that it's another apocalypse!fic, because I love them like whoa.
Snippet:
All I know is that I’m scared, and I’m pissed, because none of those ridiculous lectures they gave us in sex ed class in my Freshman year of high school warned me about the finer points of love. Sure, they pointed out the fun and games, all of the jovialities involved. The fluttery feelings you get in your stomach and the way your heart catches on fire with the intensity of the emotion.
They never told me that love would be a challenge. That it would hit me in the face when I least expected it, and that after I finally got comfortable, I would have to prove its depth and strength in the most ridiculous of manners.
They definitely never mentioned that said challenge would take place above a city, with no ground below me and the wind howling, the closest stable surface the top of a thirty-seven story building that stood five hundred feet below my heels. And they never once told me that my quest to prove that my love is pure and unfading and everlasting would double as a battle to determine the fate of the universe.
#5- Bandom + superpowers. Yeah, a lot of people do it, but as a comic geek I just couldn't say no. :D
Snippet:After a little bit of research, Gerard discovered that what Mikey did was called “astral projection.” Nobody was really sure what to make of it. Maybe that Mikey was some kind of failed genetic experiment (Gerard glared at Frank when he said it) or that he had a mental disease that slowly ate away at his brain matter while simultaneously manifesting itself in the form of amazing superhuman abilities (Gerard actually hit Frank for that one) or something.
It was only a matter of days before Mikey realized that, besides being able to maneuver his astral body literally wherever he wanted it to go, he could move things without touching them.
Frank threw a salt shaker at him and muttered, “If you take one more fucking fry off my plate, I swear to God…”
#6- Frank lives in Vegas, works at a hotel casino, and meets Criss Angel. Sekz ensues.
Snippet:
“Fuck!”
Frank smiles as politely as he can manage and says, “I’m sorry sir, it looks like you’ve gone over.”
“Yeah, no shit,” the man grumbles, guzzling down more of whatever brightly-colored-flavored-poisoned cocktail the bottle blonde with the orange skin ordered for him. She pouts her frost pink lips and squeezes his arm with her Corvette red nails.
And if he was a better person, Frank would give the man a piece of his mind; tell the guy, ‘hey, you’re a bastard!’ to his face and turn on his heel and walk out and drop his vest and tie on the front steps. But he’s not. He needs this job to pay for his apartment and his cigarettes and his food, if it’s a good week for tips. Because trying to get out of Vegas is like moving from paradise to Wyoming. There’s nothing comparable and Frank can’t bring himself to hate the city enough to abandon it. Despite all of his failures, the promise of tomorrow still lingers; mostly just to laugh at him and remind him of what he doesn’t have.
aaaand that's all that i have at this point in time. i hope you guys can help me prioritize. <3
ps__ hi new friends! how are you?
#1- Basically, everyone from Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and a few scattered others all work at the mall, or at some little shop that is an off-branch of the mall. They all hang out and sex each other. It's sort of hilarious and I'm really not all that sure what inspired it.
Snippet:
Thursday afternoons are the days that Maja looks forward to the most. These are the days that the brown-eyed boy who works at the video rental store on the first floor near the west side parking lot wanders in searching for comfortable-but-still-sexy underwear (and maybe a sheer top, if he’s gotten a bonus that week) to wrap in tissue paper for his girlfriend. Maja has never met his girlfriend, and she doubts very much that she ever will.
He wanders in at two-fifteen, like clockwork, in a pair of acid-washed jeans and a vintage-print t-shirt he probably found on a sale rack at Ross. Maja grins and kisses his cheek.
“Ryan, darling, welcome back,” she greets quietly. Ryan isn’t exactly shy, but he spooks easily if she draws attention to his presence. She figured that out after his third visit. “What are you looking for today?”
Ryan flushes a bit and says softly, “Something blue, maybe. Lacy, if you have it.”
Maja grins and leads him toward the back, where they keep the prettier pieces.
He walks out later with two different pairs of underwear and a matching top. Maja hugs him goodbye and mentally congratulates herself on steering him away from the blue. After all, the pink goes much better with his eyes.
#2- So, this is a horribly AU religious!fic, where the rapture is imminent and God and Satan are both starting to gather their armies to their sides. This splits people's lives apart. (This one is cooler than it sounds; I'm not doing it justice with the brief. :/)
Snippet:
“It’s been awhile,” he says, more to get himself into the groove of speaking politely and keeping his meanings and feelings blatant than to actually converse. It’s been a long, long time since he’s done this, and he’s more than a bit out of practice. He runs a hand over a dusty old Bible the church keeps on a pedestal in front of the statue, although he cannot comprehend why they would do such a thing. His eyes flicker up to the statue’s face.
“I trust that You know this is no social call. I did not come to worship or ask forgiveness. You know my remorse and You know my joy and I have no interest in lying to someone who already possesses all the answers. I merely come to ask a few questions.” He pauses, sighing and letting his hand fall from the leather volume to his side. His gaze is trained on the face of the statue, burning into the soulless bronze eyes.
“Why him?” And Gerard is surprised at just how much he is actually pleading. “There are a million others that You can have! They wait like candy in a dish, craving Your beckon, Your guidance! Throughout my entire existence I have asked You for but one thing, and that is him. Please, please, do not do this!”
#3- Gerard and Mikey are tomb robbers who get sent on a dig in Egypt to attempt and steal valuable treasure when one of their other assignments falls through. While in Egypt, they meet one of the archaeologists in charge of the expedition, one Frank Iero. When the time comes to steal the loot, will they be able to do it? Or will someone else beat them to it?
Snippet:
Gerard feels his eyes narrow, yellow and catlike in the gloom of the furthest inner chamber, and he knows that this is one of the hazards of the job; that one day you’ll show up to some big find and there will just be nothing there, because someone was either smarter, quicker, or just plain luckier than you. This knowledge is not comforting, however, and does nothing at all to stop him from muttering, “Twelve hundred-thousand miles for a case that’s empty. We’d better be having a chat with Bob when we get back.”
“We will,” Mikey promises, and the lenses of his glasses glint dangerously, much like the slight hiss to his words. Gerard snaps his lighter closed and the two of them are shrouded in darkness.
#4- All right. This one is a longer fic...or it will be if I ever finish it. Gerard is the one destined to save the world, Gabe Saporta might be the devil, I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, the basic gist is that it's another apocalypse!fic, because I love them like whoa.
Snippet:
All I know is that I’m scared, and I’m pissed, because none of those ridiculous lectures they gave us in sex ed class in my Freshman year of high school warned me about the finer points of love. Sure, they pointed out the fun and games, all of the jovialities involved. The fluttery feelings you get in your stomach and the way your heart catches on fire with the intensity of the emotion.
They never told me that love would be a challenge. That it would hit me in the face when I least expected it, and that after I finally got comfortable, I would have to prove its depth and strength in the most ridiculous of manners.
They definitely never mentioned that said challenge would take place above a city, with no ground below me and the wind howling, the closest stable surface the top of a thirty-seven story building that stood five hundred feet below my heels. And they never once told me that my quest to prove that my love is pure and unfading and everlasting would double as a battle to determine the fate of the universe.
#5- Bandom + superpowers. Yeah, a lot of people do it, but as a comic geek I just couldn't say no. :D
Snippet:After a little bit of research, Gerard discovered that what Mikey did was called “astral projection.” Nobody was really sure what to make of it. Maybe that Mikey was some kind of failed genetic experiment (Gerard glared at Frank when he said it) or that he had a mental disease that slowly ate away at his brain matter while simultaneously manifesting itself in the form of amazing superhuman abilities (Gerard actually hit Frank for that one) or something.
It was only a matter of days before Mikey realized that, besides being able to maneuver his astral body literally wherever he wanted it to go, he could move things without touching them.
Frank threw a salt shaker at him and muttered, “If you take one more fucking fry off my plate, I swear to God…”
#6- Frank lives in Vegas, works at a hotel casino, and meets Criss Angel. Sekz ensues.
Snippet:
“Fuck!”
Frank smiles as politely as he can manage and says, “I’m sorry sir, it looks like you’ve gone over.”
“Yeah, no shit,” the man grumbles, guzzling down more of whatever brightly-colored-flavored-poisoned cocktail the bottle blonde with the orange skin ordered for him. She pouts her frost pink lips and squeezes his arm with her Corvette red nails.
And if he was a better person, Frank would give the man a piece of his mind; tell the guy, ‘hey, you’re a bastard!’ to his face and turn on his heel and walk out and drop his vest and tie on the front steps. But he’s not. He needs this job to pay for his apartment and his cigarettes and his food, if it’s a good week for tips. Because trying to get out of Vegas is like moving from paradise to Wyoming. There’s nothing comparable and Frank can’t bring himself to hate the city enough to abandon it. Despite all of his failures, the promise of tomorrow still lingers; mostly just to laugh at him and remind him of what he doesn’t have.
aaaand that's all that i have at this point in time. i hope you guys can help me prioritize. <3
ps__ hi new friends! how are you?