Once Upon a Chicago Afternoon (Oneshot)
Title: Once Upon a Chicago Afternoon (Fluffy Oneshot)
Rating: G
Beta: paper_teenheart
Pairings: Peterick, hinted Gerard Way/Lyn-Z
Summary: "Once upon a Chicago afternoon a meeting greater than when Harry met Sally or when the day met the night took place in a creepy but surprisingly cozy basement and changed the world forever."
Warning: Kid!fic
Disclaimer: I do not own Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance or Mindless self Indulgence. This story is not real.
Papa!”
“Huh? Oh, hello sweetheart…”
“I can’t sleep.”
“I can see that.”
“Story time!”
“Mmph…can’t Daddy do it?”
“Daddy read last time. Papa’s turn!”
“Yeah Papa.”
“Ow! When did you wake up Trick?”
“I’m always awake, watching. Fear me. Now go, your daughter needs you.”
“Funny how she’s suddenly my daughter…”
“Papa!! Come on!”
Pete was yanked out of bed by his four year old daughter Riley and taken to her room, still bleary-eyed and half asleep so he was tripping over his feet all the way there. Riley would turn around to shush him because ‘Daddy is still asleep!’ She was a very headstrong girl and liked things done properly all the time so she sat Pete down by her bed in the same place every time he told her a story, hopped into bed, grabbed her two teddy bears called ‘Andy’ and ‘Joe’ and sat expectantly waiting for her story. Pete was sure the bears were actually his band mates and Andy had been experimenting with his one of his ex-girlfriend’s old spell books she had lefty in his house. It was a long story. A very long story.
“Okay Ry, what story do you want tonight?” Pete asked tiredly, rubbing his left eye and shaking his head every so often to wake himself up.
“Hmmm,” Riley hummed pulling the trademark thinking pose, stroking an invisible beard, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and sighing loudly. She was all about over dramatics thanks to visits from and to see Uncle Gerard and his wife. She had declared her undying love for their son James and Gerard and Patrick had been planning their wedding ever since. They were big fans of sparkles, tack and cheesy music. Pete and Lindsay just humored them, cheering on their husbands while talking ‘bassist-talk’ as Patrick called it and comparing sleeves. Lindsay was pretty awesome.
“Make one up! I like Papa’s made up stories,” Riley decided finally and Pete sighed, smiling sleepily and tried to thing despite the fact his brain was only half working. He decided on the first story he could think of and decided he could embellish it and make it better as he carried on.
“Okay honey,” he began. “This story is called, The Prince and the Poet.
“Once upon a Chicago afternoon a meeting greater than when Harry met Sally or when the day met the night took place in a creepy but surprisingly cozy basement and changed the world forever. The meeting between a noble and great prince and a humble but still totally awesome village poet. The poet wasn’t the most refined of gentlemen, a little bit scruffy and a lot reckless but his intentions were pure and he was always looking out for his friends. He was the king of the scoundrels, making his mark on life and the lives of others. Pulling stunts like shooting people with paintballs in the street and jumping out of windows. Both of which you should never ever do, honey. Unless Papa is there to supervise and Daddy isn’t.
Now to understand this story, you must understand that every heart has a song, okay?”
“Nope.”
“…what?!”
“You never told me that and Papa knows everything. Besides,” Riley huffed and pressed her head to her Papa’s chest. “I can’t hear anything.”
Pete laughed and picked his little girl up to put her back in the bed. She was lighter when they first met her all those years ago, Pete thought fondly.
“You can’t hear it silly,” Pete laughed and tickled under her chin laughing with her as he plonked her back into bed. “It’s there but it’s not always playing otherwise the world would be a big noisy mess.”
Riley nodded thoughtfully, mouth shaped into an understanding ‘o’ and sat in awe of her Papa’s extensive knowledge. Pete was happy someone appreciated his intellect.
“Okay, so every heart has a song. Some hearts have words without the melody and some hearts have a melody without the words. Some hearts have a rhythm, some hearts just hum in a certain key but it all depends on the person. Now, the poet had the words but he desperately wanted music to go with those words and there was only one way to do this. Going into bands and creating music together in order to release the music of the heart. It was a very old and effective magic that few people were born with the ability to do but the poet was blessed with this as well as a few other people he knew. He moved from band to band making music and trying hard to find the perfect song to go with his heart. Many came close but the poet always felt there was something missing to complete the spell and to release a song straight from the heart.
He was friends with one of the men meeting in that basement before the meeting and he brought about the whole meeting. A Brave knight by the name Joseph of, err, Trohmania. Since the poet had always been searching for darker heavier music. Like Papa’s first band, remember?”
Riley nodded, and intense and concentrated look on her soft innocent face.
(Pete remembered letting her listen to Arma Angelus a year ago and the confused but ecstatic grin she held on her face. ‘How many four year olds do you know that like hardcore? We didn’t pick her. It was fate, tricky,’ Pete had said to Patrick happily.)
She might not have been biologically theirs but Pete swore blind she looked just like Patrick, especially when they both concentrate really hard. Now she kind of looked like studio Patrick. All intense and intellectual.
“Well the poet was always looking in that direction. Sir Joseph asked the Poet, ‘What about music to dance to and still rock out, instead of kids beating each other up at shows?”
The poet liked this idea. The thought of trying this new approach worried him, but he had tried so many other things he was willing to get his heart singing somehow. None the less, he was still unsure of how well Sir Joseph had thought about this new idea. Because of this he sent the brave knight on a quest.
“Find me the most beautiful voice in the land to be part of our band and the craziest and most talented drummer. No more and no less. If you do this, we will start a band just like you say,” he said, confident that Sir Joe would fail.
Little did the Poet know that no feat was too great for Sir Joseph or Sir Joe as he preferred to be known. He already knew the best singer in the land and the most talented drummer. He decided to go and find the singer first as he needed to be rescued from a perilous trap. He was trapped helpless in a vast castle of books like Rapunzel, only it was less let down your hair and more let down your knowledge of unknown bands called Neurosis. They became instant friends and Sir Joe didn’t hesitate in rescuing the interesting prince from his printed prison. He was nervous and shy but still the fairest of them all.”
“Fairer than Snow white?” Riley interrupted and Pete smiled warmly.
“Even fairer honey,” he said wistfully and continued the story.
“He had heard of the poet and feared him slightly. He was a legend across Chicago and had a list of offence-err, um-achievements attached to his name. When Sir Joe approached the prince to be part of this band he was worried. He too had been looking for ways to project his hearts song but he was confused. You see, he didn’t know that his heart was already playing a full song with hundreds of thousands of instruments and beautiful angelic voices, but no words. Instead all he heard was drums crashing over all the music and tried to use that. He sometimes heard guitars spring through and maybe a burst of singing but he thought they were weak and ignored them usually. Sir Joe persuaded him to use the singing and guitars and show the Poet what he could do but the Prince was frightened so it took much persuading. Eventually they set a day to meet with the poet because Sir Joe was, indeed, made of awesome.
So we’re back to the creepy but surprisingly cozy basement where this meeting took place. The Prince entered the room, strangely dressed and awkward in everything from the way he was standing to the aura he gave off. Awkward and unsure.
Sir Joe stepped forward and said to the poet,
“I bring you the greatest singer in the land, Prince of Glenview, here to see if he can help us since he is also confused about his heart song.”
The Prince was beautiful, more beautiful than anyone the poet had ever seen. His heart became a flurry of words crashing together in confusion to try and create a description and it made his chest hurt and his mind ache. He was confused and the first words he could think of escaped his mouth.
“You’re short,” he told the prince.”
“That’s not very nice,” Riley laughed and Pete smiled at her.
“No it’s not,” he agreed. “But the poet wasn’t thinking very clearly. I’ll be sure to tell him the next time I see him to think properly before he speaks to the Prince.” Riley’s eyes went wide.
“You know him??” she asked.
“Oh I know everyone in this story,” Pete nodded. “They are very close to me.”
“Can we have the prince around to dinner? I want to see him and wear his crown!”
“I’ll tell him next time I see him,” Pete assured her and continued the story.
“The prince blinked at the poet and said with a sly smile,
“You’re short,” and they smiled at each other. The poet already liked him and the Prince already liked the poet. The three men sat down and the Poet and Sir Joe listened while the Prince sang and played guitar. Then something strange happened as they listened. A strange and powerful charm was placed on the poet making his ears more sensitive. He could hear all three heart songs crashing and blending into each other to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, all complimenting each other to make music fit for kings and queens…and hopefully princes.
When the prince was finished, the poet looked at Sir Joe besides him with a grin he hadn’t flashed in years and they knew the charm was almost complete and this prince was the saving grace.
The drummer was next, but he was much harder to find since he was most sought after and already in a number of bands but he felt the strength in the bond these three boys shared already and could feel himself starting to become in tune with them already. This drummer, his name was Andrew the Awesome, was also a revered level 39 mage and offered his services to them as a mage as well as a drummer to fix any sticky situations since, well; he was familiar with the poet’s record.
Together they were stronger than any superhero and made an unbreakable pact with the help of the mage’s power to stay together and make music forever.
Soon word of this new band spread and in no time at all these four boys’ heart songs were being listened to all across the land and further. People were listening, loving and feeling the connection. Taking away the words or the music in their minds and safety pinning them to their hearts in the hope that maybe, one day, they could find a match that great.
Behind all this success, however, the poet still felt emptiness somewhere in his heart. A longing that could only vanish when-”
“He was with the prince!” Riley yawned, smiling proudly and sleepily at her Papa who smiled down at her. It was so obvious that even a little girl could figure it out but he was oblivious for years…Well, she was a smart kid after all and he was a bit of an idiot but he wouldn’t ever let Patrick hear him admit that.
“Yup,” Pete nodded. “The poet was a little bit slow, however, and couldn’t quite figure this out for himself. He tried filling this emptiness with more words, more work and more anything he loved or thought he loved. He even met many other people, some poets, some musicians and some of them of noble blood like his fair prince. One or two came close to filling that emptiness but never quite like his prince so he occupied his time by occupying the princes time at every moment he could to get the prince to maybe notice him in the way the poet desired. He asked the mage for help and they tried various tricks and spells - he could not perform love spells because it was far too draining plus it would just make life too easy for the poet - but the prince seemed to be immune to everything. He asked Sir Joe for his advice but he had nothing to say except,
“Go tell the prince and not me. He’s the one who needs to know.”
The poet was afraid but decided this was the best idea. He fought back the dragons Anxiety and Nervousness and fought head to head with his demons - not always effectively but he tried hard - so he could be near the prince. He ran to him as fast as his heart could carry him and asked,
“Will you be the harmony to my melody?”
The prince blushed and replied,
“Only if neither of us ever stop singing,” and soon they were married. They moved into a castle together in their shared Chicago kingdom and were the happiest couple that had ever lived. They’re still living happily ever after.
The end. How was that Ry?”
His daughter was sleeping peacefully, cuddling her teddy bears and breathing lightly. He brushed a few strands of light brown hair from her face and tucked her in tightly before standing up, stretching and walking back to bed.
He crawled into bed next to Patrick and wrapped a protective arm around him.
“I’m telling Andy you only made him a level 39 mage,” Patrick mumbled and turned so he was facing Pete.
“That’s totally unfair,” Pete protested half-heartedly and stroked Patrick’s hair. “I couldn’t think of a number.”
“Still. Oh and by the way, where exactly is Trohmania?”
“Oh my God. Cuddles or GTFO.”
“…This is why you’re banned from /b/.”
“Rules one and two!!”
“You can totally go sleep downstairs of you really want.”
“Okay, okay point taken. Nighty night, sweet prince.”
“That was awesome by the way. Me being a prince, I mean.”
“You have to wear a crown to dinner, by the way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind... Night, Melody.”
“Sleep tight, Harmony.”
Rating: G
Beta: paper_teenheart
Pairings: Peterick, hinted Gerard Way/Lyn-Z
Summary: "Once upon a Chicago afternoon a meeting greater than when Harry met Sally or when the day met the night took place in a creepy but surprisingly cozy basement and changed the world forever."
Warning: Kid!fic
Disclaimer: I do not own Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance or Mindless self Indulgence. This story is not real.
Papa!”
“Huh? Oh, hello sweetheart…”
“I can’t sleep.”
“I can see that.”
“Story time!”
“Mmph…can’t Daddy do it?”
“Daddy read last time. Papa’s turn!”
“Yeah Papa.”
“Ow! When did you wake up Trick?”
“I’m always awake, watching. Fear me. Now go, your daughter needs you.”
“Funny how she’s suddenly my daughter…”
“Papa!! Come on!”
Pete was yanked out of bed by his four year old daughter Riley and taken to her room, still bleary-eyed and half asleep so he was tripping over his feet all the way there. Riley would turn around to shush him because ‘Daddy is still asleep!’ She was a very headstrong girl and liked things done properly all the time so she sat Pete down by her bed in the same place every time he told her a story, hopped into bed, grabbed her two teddy bears called ‘Andy’ and ‘Joe’ and sat expectantly waiting for her story. Pete was sure the bears were actually his band mates and Andy had been experimenting with his one of his ex-girlfriend’s old spell books she had lefty in his house. It was a long story. A very long story.
“Okay Ry, what story do you want tonight?” Pete asked tiredly, rubbing his left eye and shaking his head every so often to wake himself up.
“Hmmm,” Riley hummed pulling the trademark thinking pose, stroking an invisible beard, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and sighing loudly. She was all about over dramatics thanks to visits from and to see Uncle Gerard and his wife. She had declared her undying love for their son James and Gerard and Patrick had been planning their wedding ever since. They were big fans of sparkles, tack and cheesy music. Pete and Lindsay just humored them, cheering on their husbands while talking ‘bassist-talk’ as Patrick called it and comparing sleeves. Lindsay was pretty awesome.
“Make one up! I like Papa’s made up stories,” Riley decided finally and Pete sighed, smiling sleepily and tried to thing despite the fact his brain was only half working. He decided on the first story he could think of and decided he could embellish it and make it better as he carried on.
“Okay honey,” he began. “This story is called, The Prince and the Poet.
“Once upon a Chicago afternoon a meeting greater than when Harry met Sally or when the day met the night took place in a creepy but surprisingly cozy basement and changed the world forever. The meeting between a noble and great prince and a humble but still totally awesome village poet. The poet wasn’t the most refined of gentlemen, a little bit scruffy and a lot reckless but his intentions were pure and he was always looking out for his friends. He was the king of the scoundrels, making his mark on life and the lives of others. Pulling stunts like shooting people with paintballs in the street and jumping out of windows. Both of which you should never ever do, honey. Unless Papa is there to supervise and Daddy isn’t.
Now to understand this story, you must understand that every heart has a song, okay?”
“Nope.”
“…what?!”
“You never told me that and Papa knows everything. Besides,” Riley huffed and pressed her head to her Papa’s chest. “I can’t hear anything.”
Pete laughed and picked his little girl up to put her back in the bed. She was lighter when they first met her all those years ago, Pete thought fondly.
“You can’t hear it silly,” Pete laughed and tickled under her chin laughing with her as he plonked her back into bed. “It’s there but it’s not always playing otherwise the world would be a big noisy mess.”
Riley nodded thoughtfully, mouth shaped into an understanding ‘o’ and sat in awe of her Papa’s extensive knowledge. Pete was happy someone appreciated his intellect.
“Okay, so every heart has a song. Some hearts have words without the melody and some hearts have a melody without the words. Some hearts have a rhythm, some hearts just hum in a certain key but it all depends on the person. Now, the poet had the words but he desperately wanted music to go with those words and there was only one way to do this. Going into bands and creating music together in order to release the music of the heart. It was a very old and effective magic that few people were born with the ability to do but the poet was blessed with this as well as a few other people he knew. He moved from band to band making music and trying hard to find the perfect song to go with his heart. Many came close but the poet always felt there was something missing to complete the spell and to release a song straight from the heart.
He was friends with one of the men meeting in that basement before the meeting and he brought about the whole meeting. A Brave knight by the name Joseph of, err, Trohmania. Since the poet had always been searching for darker heavier music. Like Papa’s first band, remember?”
Riley nodded, and intense and concentrated look on her soft innocent face.
(Pete remembered letting her listen to Arma Angelus a year ago and the confused but ecstatic grin she held on her face. ‘How many four year olds do you know that like hardcore? We didn’t pick her. It was fate, tricky,’ Pete had said to Patrick happily.)
She might not have been biologically theirs but Pete swore blind she looked just like Patrick, especially when they both concentrate really hard. Now she kind of looked like studio Patrick. All intense and intellectual.
“Well the poet was always looking in that direction. Sir Joseph asked the Poet, ‘What about music to dance to and still rock out, instead of kids beating each other up at shows?”
The poet liked this idea. The thought of trying this new approach worried him, but he had tried so many other things he was willing to get his heart singing somehow. None the less, he was still unsure of how well Sir Joseph had thought about this new idea. Because of this he sent the brave knight on a quest.
“Find me the most beautiful voice in the land to be part of our band and the craziest and most talented drummer. No more and no less. If you do this, we will start a band just like you say,” he said, confident that Sir Joe would fail.
Little did the Poet know that no feat was too great for Sir Joseph or Sir Joe as he preferred to be known. He already knew the best singer in the land and the most talented drummer. He decided to go and find the singer first as he needed to be rescued from a perilous trap. He was trapped helpless in a vast castle of books like Rapunzel, only it was less let down your hair and more let down your knowledge of unknown bands called Neurosis. They became instant friends and Sir Joe didn’t hesitate in rescuing the interesting prince from his printed prison. He was nervous and shy but still the fairest of them all.”
“Fairer than Snow white?” Riley interrupted and Pete smiled warmly.
“Even fairer honey,” he said wistfully and continued the story.
“He had heard of the poet and feared him slightly. He was a legend across Chicago and had a list of offence-err, um-achievements attached to his name. When Sir Joe approached the prince to be part of this band he was worried. He too had been looking for ways to project his hearts song but he was confused. You see, he didn’t know that his heart was already playing a full song with hundreds of thousands of instruments and beautiful angelic voices, but no words. Instead all he heard was drums crashing over all the music and tried to use that. He sometimes heard guitars spring through and maybe a burst of singing but he thought they were weak and ignored them usually. Sir Joe persuaded him to use the singing and guitars and show the Poet what he could do but the Prince was frightened so it took much persuading. Eventually they set a day to meet with the poet because Sir Joe was, indeed, made of awesome.
So we’re back to the creepy but surprisingly cozy basement where this meeting took place. The Prince entered the room, strangely dressed and awkward in everything from the way he was standing to the aura he gave off. Awkward and unsure.
Sir Joe stepped forward and said to the poet,
“I bring you the greatest singer in the land, Prince of Glenview, here to see if he can help us since he is also confused about his heart song.”
The Prince was beautiful, more beautiful than anyone the poet had ever seen. His heart became a flurry of words crashing together in confusion to try and create a description and it made his chest hurt and his mind ache. He was confused and the first words he could think of escaped his mouth.
“You’re short,” he told the prince.”
“That’s not very nice,” Riley laughed and Pete smiled at her.
“No it’s not,” he agreed. “But the poet wasn’t thinking very clearly. I’ll be sure to tell him the next time I see him to think properly before he speaks to the Prince.” Riley’s eyes went wide.
“You know him??” she asked.
“Oh I know everyone in this story,” Pete nodded. “They are very close to me.”
“Can we have the prince around to dinner? I want to see him and wear his crown!”
“I’ll tell him next time I see him,” Pete assured her and continued the story.
“The prince blinked at the poet and said with a sly smile,
“You’re short,” and they smiled at each other. The poet already liked him and the Prince already liked the poet. The three men sat down and the Poet and Sir Joe listened while the Prince sang and played guitar. Then something strange happened as they listened. A strange and powerful charm was placed on the poet making his ears more sensitive. He could hear all three heart songs crashing and blending into each other to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, all complimenting each other to make music fit for kings and queens…and hopefully princes.
When the prince was finished, the poet looked at Sir Joe besides him with a grin he hadn’t flashed in years and they knew the charm was almost complete and this prince was the saving grace.
The drummer was next, but he was much harder to find since he was most sought after and already in a number of bands but he felt the strength in the bond these three boys shared already and could feel himself starting to become in tune with them already. This drummer, his name was Andrew the Awesome, was also a revered level 39 mage and offered his services to them as a mage as well as a drummer to fix any sticky situations since, well; he was familiar with the poet’s record.
Together they were stronger than any superhero and made an unbreakable pact with the help of the mage’s power to stay together and make music forever.
Soon word of this new band spread and in no time at all these four boys’ heart songs were being listened to all across the land and further. People were listening, loving and feeling the connection. Taking away the words or the music in their minds and safety pinning them to their hearts in the hope that maybe, one day, they could find a match that great.
Behind all this success, however, the poet still felt emptiness somewhere in his heart. A longing that could only vanish when-”
“He was with the prince!” Riley yawned, smiling proudly and sleepily at her Papa who smiled down at her. It was so obvious that even a little girl could figure it out but he was oblivious for years…Well, she was a smart kid after all and he was a bit of an idiot but he wouldn’t ever let Patrick hear him admit that.
“Yup,” Pete nodded. “The poet was a little bit slow, however, and couldn’t quite figure this out for himself. He tried filling this emptiness with more words, more work and more anything he loved or thought he loved. He even met many other people, some poets, some musicians and some of them of noble blood like his fair prince. One or two came close to filling that emptiness but never quite like his prince so he occupied his time by occupying the princes time at every moment he could to get the prince to maybe notice him in the way the poet desired. He asked the mage for help and they tried various tricks and spells - he could not perform love spells because it was far too draining plus it would just make life too easy for the poet - but the prince seemed to be immune to everything. He asked Sir Joe for his advice but he had nothing to say except,
“Go tell the prince and not me. He’s the one who needs to know.”
The poet was afraid but decided this was the best idea. He fought back the dragons Anxiety and Nervousness and fought head to head with his demons - not always effectively but he tried hard - so he could be near the prince. He ran to him as fast as his heart could carry him and asked,
“Will you be the harmony to my melody?”
The prince blushed and replied,
“Only if neither of us ever stop singing,” and soon they were married. They moved into a castle together in their shared Chicago kingdom and were the happiest couple that had ever lived. They’re still living happily ever after.
The end. How was that Ry?”
His daughter was sleeping peacefully, cuddling her teddy bears and breathing lightly. He brushed a few strands of light brown hair from her face and tucked her in tightly before standing up, stretching and walking back to bed.
He crawled into bed next to Patrick and wrapped a protective arm around him.
“I’m telling Andy you only made him a level 39 mage,” Patrick mumbled and turned so he was facing Pete.
“That’s totally unfair,” Pete protested half-heartedly and stroked Patrick’s hair. “I couldn’t think of a number.”
“Still. Oh and by the way, where exactly is Trohmania?”
“Oh my God. Cuddles or GTFO.”
“…This is why you’re banned from /b/.”
“Rules one and two!!”
“You can totally go sleep downstairs of you really want.”
“Okay, okay point taken. Nighty night, sweet prince.”
“That was awesome by the way. Me being a prince, I mean.”
“You have to wear a crown to dinner, by the way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind... Night, Melody.”
“Sleep tight, Harmony.”