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Unwritten Bandslash #4: Two Short Ones Involving Gerard, Genderfuck, and Yet More Cliches.
#4 on the poll was the option called "The Two Short Ones Involving Gerard, genderfuck, and other favorite cliches of mine (Gerard/Frank)" and these may actually be fairly short because I never got all that close to writing them and I'm kind of hazy on the details. \o/
The cliches in question, in case you were wondering, were time travel and amnesia. Which, you know, obviously are crying out to be included in a genderfuck story.
So there was the time travel one, inspired by someone attending the Cobra show a group of us went to at the 9:30 Club--I can't even remember who all was at the show, but if anyone happens to have clicked through the cut tag, back me up, one of the people attending thecon ahaha, the show, was lady!Gerard, in capri jeans and cute pink sneakers and chin length black hair. Seriously, the girl version of Gerard, not even kidding.
Soooo I plotted out a story about, you know, obviously, Gerard acquiring magic pink sneakers which allowed him to travel in time except that when he got to wherever he went, he was a girl. And then when he came back to where he left from he was himself again.
So he tried them out a bit and then excitedly told the guys and demonstrated his ability to prove it to them at which point Frank became unaccountably angry because, of course, as it turns out he slept with pink-sneaker-girl!Gerard at some point in the past while mooning about boy!Gerard, thinking he was sublimating, and actually it was Gerard the whole time, only Gerard has not yet strategically gone back to the time of one of Frank and Jamia's few breaks in order to sleep with him guilt-free, so Frank can't tell him why he's mad or it will destroy the universe and/or make that time he had sex with Gerard unhappen.
I'm not sure where I was thinking of going with that at the time, but obviously now I think that after Frank had bitched to Jamia for a while about paradoxes and sneakiness and fucking Gerard--and after Gerard went on one of his little jaunts and came back with a Frank's-mouth-shaped-hickey--they would sort things out and share in a reasonable and adult manner. And the shoes would disappear and no one would be able to conclusively prove that Frank was responsible, but he would cheer up a lot.
The end!
And then the gendersomething-amnesia story which I think I must have come up with by trying to deliberately smash my favorite things into each other.
It was set during Gerard's post art school basement-dwelling period, while Frank was in college.
So our POV character with amnesia wakes up in a motel room, still half-dressed in a lot of uncomfortably restrictive and badly disarranged clothing--all the foundational undergarments to make the little black dress look perfect, which it probably did before the half-clothed sex and drunken passing out. POV character manages to extract ID with the name Gerard Arthur Way and sex M from a stuffed and padded bra, and draws a perfectly logical conclusion: she's in transition, she met someone last night, and however that went down, however it happened, she's forgotten the life as a male that must have made her miserable. Maybe last night was one more awful thing, maybe she just couldn't bear it anymore...
But just then there's a rattling at the door; she twists around her clothes, hastily covering herself up, and in walks a boy carrying two coffees and a bakery bag, with punk tattoos and a huge, sweet smile. He says, "Gee! Shit, you woke up, sorry, I was going to be all smooth and have breakfast for you."
She clears her throat and says cautiously, "Looks like breakfast to me," and he just smiles even though her voice comes out raspy and too low for a lady.
Eventually she confesses that she's kind of hazy about last night and he reintroduces himself--Frank? A friend of Mikey's? And Gee makes "oh, right, Mikey," noises and Frank says, "Wait, you don't remember Mikey? Your brother? What were you drinking--no, I bet you don't remember what you were drinking."
So they establish that Frank knows Gee's brother, knows what Gee looks like when not dressed up, and quite enthusiastically slept with her the night before anyway. "You kept trying out different names," he says helpfully. "You couldn't decide."
With that settled, Gee gets cleaned up--shaves off her stubble, uck, and wonders if this means she's only just barely started transitioning, wonders if anyone knows but Frank--well, and her brother, right? he was at the party, so he must know, but maybe she hasn't told anyone else? She can't remember her parents and she's already dreading telling them, hoping her old self did it for her before she forgot.
So Gee doesn't want to go home and Frank doesn't especially want to part ways, and wandering around the city turns into shopping for makeup and clothes for Gee, so she can look a little less spectacularly morning-after, and a few other fun things. Finally Frank insists on taking Gee home, so they go back to the basement--slip in without seeing anyone--and have more sex in Gerard's bed.
Only this time when Gerard wakes up, he remembers that he dressed up in drag for that party on a dare/bet/whatever and whatever he got fucked up on--whatever someone fucked him up on, and probably Frank, asking him if he remembered what he drank, the crazy little fuck--he is not a fucking chick and he--Jesus, that was so totally fucked up and wrong and no.
And he says as much, only a lot louder and with more swearing, after he shakes Frank awake, in the process of kicking him right the fuck out of Gerard's bed, and basement, and life.
And that's it for a while, even if Gerard can't stop thinking about it, even if Frank keeps leaving him voicemails that say things like I didn't have any problem with it and Do you remember how happy you were? Maybe you should think about that and other fucking college-kid bullshit, like Gerard could just--whatever. He doesn't even want it, it was just one fucked up blacked out day.
He has lots of other fucked up blacked out days.
None of them are as much fun.
He deletes Frank's voicemails unheard, and tries to forget what they said, and after a while Frank stops calling.
And time goes by, and Gerard is still miserable, and his life still sucks, and he's still not--he still doesn't--
But somehow he ends up going to the city in drag again. He doesn't know what it means anymore, or what it doesn't mean, he just ... he's tired of pretending he doesn't want to. He's tired of pretending he wasn't happy when he thought he'd figured this out. And he hasn't figured it out--nothing is as simple as it was on the day when he didn't know fuck all about who he was or what he wanted...
Except Frank.
So obviously Gerard-in-drag runs into Frank, who does a double take and then says a cautious hello. And then Gerard offers to buy him a coffee and etc. etc. true love and genderfuckery.
...So, as may be clear, the story was going to be all ambiguous and complicated and also based on random inexplicable amnesia and, um, I think there are good reasons I never seriously attempted to write that one! But you didn't know that when you voted for it! So there you go.
Up next: the (c.2007) Panic BDSM bunny which is really a very long pairings list OR the one where Bob gets pregnant and I really love me some offputting verisimilitude. However will I choose...?
This entry is crossposted at http://dsudis.livejournal.com/531431.html.
The cliches in question, in case you were wondering, were time travel and amnesia. Which, you know, obviously are crying out to be included in a genderfuck story.
So there was the time travel one, inspired by someone attending the Cobra show a group of us went to at the 9:30 Club--I can't even remember who all was at the show, but if anyone happens to have clicked through the cut tag, back me up, one of the people attending the
Soooo I plotted out a story about, you know, obviously, Gerard acquiring magic pink sneakers which allowed him to travel in time except that when he got to wherever he went, he was a girl. And then when he came back to where he left from he was himself again.
So he tried them out a bit and then excitedly told the guys and demonstrated his ability to prove it to them at which point Frank became unaccountably angry because, of course, as it turns out he slept with pink-sneaker-girl!Gerard at some point in the past while mooning about boy!Gerard, thinking he was sublimating, and actually it was Gerard the whole time, only Gerard has not yet strategically gone back to the time of one of Frank and Jamia's few breaks in order to sleep with him guilt-free, so Frank can't tell him why he's mad or it will destroy the universe and/or make that time he had sex with Gerard unhappen.
I'm not sure where I was thinking of going with that at the time, but obviously now I think that after Frank had bitched to Jamia for a while about paradoxes and sneakiness and fucking Gerard--and after Gerard went on one of his little jaunts and came back with a Frank's-mouth-shaped-hickey--they would sort things out and share in a reasonable and adult manner. And the shoes would disappear and no one would be able to conclusively prove that Frank was responsible, but he would cheer up a lot.
The end!
And then the gendersomething-amnesia story which I think I must have come up with by trying to deliberately smash my favorite things into each other.
It was set during Gerard's post art school basement-dwelling period, while Frank was in college.
So our POV character with amnesia wakes up in a motel room, still half-dressed in a lot of uncomfortably restrictive and badly disarranged clothing--all the foundational undergarments to make the little black dress look perfect, which it probably did before the half-clothed sex and drunken passing out. POV character manages to extract ID with the name Gerard Arthur Way and sex M from a stuffed and padded bra, and draws a perfectly logical conclusion: she's in transition, she met someone last night, and however that went down, however it happened, she's forgotten the life as a male that must have made her miserable. Maybe last night was one more awful thing, maybe she just couldn't bear it anymore...
But just then there's a rattling at the door; she twists around her clothes, hastily covering herself up, and in walks a boy carrying two coffees and a bakery bag, with punk tattoos and a huge, sweet smile. He says, "Gee! Shit, you woke up, sorry, I was going to be all smooth and have breakfast for you."
She clears her throat and says cautiously, "Looks like breakfast to me," and he just smiles even though her voice comes out raspy and too low for a lady.
Eventually she confesses that she's kind of hazy about last night and he reintroduces himself--Frank? A friend of Mikey's? And Gee makes "oh, right, Mikey," noises and Frank says, "Wait, you don't remember Mikey? Your brother? What were you drinking--no, I bet you don't remember what you were drinking."
So they establish that Frank knows Gee's brother, knows what Gee looks like when not dressed up, and quite enthusiastically slept with her the night before anyway. "You kept trying out different names," he says helpfully. "You couldn't decide."
With that settled, Gee gets cleaned up--shaves off her stubble, uck, and wonders if this means she's only just barely started transitioning, wonders if anyone knows but Frank--well, and her brother, right? he was at the party, so he must know, but maybe she hasn't told anyone else? She can't remember her parents and she's already dreading telling them, hoping her old self did it for her before she forgot.
So Gee doesn't want to go home and Frank doesn't especially want to part ways, and wandering around the city turns into shopping for makeup and clothes for Gee, so she can look a little less spectacularly morning-after, and a few other fun things. Finally Frank insists on taking Gee home, so they go back to the basement--slip in without seeing anyone--and have more sex in Gerard's bed.
Only this time when Gerard wakes up, he remembers that he dressed up in drag for that party on a dare/bet/whatever and whatever he got fucked up on--whatever someone fucked him up on, and probably Frank, asking him if he remembered what he drank, the crazy little fuck--he is not a fucking chick and he--Jesus, that was so totally fucked up and wrong and no.
And he says as much, only a lot louder and with more swearing, after he shakes Frank awake, in the process of kicking him right the fuck out of Gerard's bed, and basement, and life.
And that's it for a while, even if Gerard can't stop thinking about it, even if Frank keeps leaving him voicemails that say things like I didn't have any problem with it and Do you remember how happy you were? Maybe you should think about that and other fucking college-kid bullshit, like Gerard could just--whatever. He doesn't even want it, it was just one fucked up blacked out day.
He has lots of other fucked up blacked out days.
None of them are as much fun.
He deletes Frank's voicemails unheard, and tries to forget what they said, and after a while Frank stops calling.
And time goes by, and Gerard is still miserable, and his life still sucks, and he's still not--he still doesn't--
But somehow he ends up going to the city in drag again. He doesn't know what it means anymore, or what it doesn't mean, he just ... he's tired of pretending he doesn't want to. He's tired of pretending he wasn't happy when he thought he'd figured this out. And he hasn't figured it out--nothing is as simple as it was on the day when he didn't know fuck all about who he was or what he wanted...
Except Frank.
So obviously Gerard-in-drag runs into Frank, who does a double take and then says a cautious hello. And then Gerard offers to buy him a coffee and etc. etc. true love and genderfuckery.
...So, as may be clear, the story was going to be all ambiguous and complicated and also based on random inexplicable amnesia and, um, I think there are good reasons I never seriously attempted to write that one! But you didn't know that when you voted for it! So there you go.
Up next: the (c.2007) Panic BDSM bunny which is really a very long pairings list OR the one where Bob gets pregnant and I really love me some offputting verisimilitude. However will I choose...?
This entry is crossposted at http://dsudis.livejournal.com/531431.html.
no subject
I LOVE IT that is like the BEST SUMMARY LINE EVER.
♥♥
(Bob pregnant, Bob pregnant!)
no subject
Also, you are the only person to cast a vote, so you win! Bob pregnant (with attendant gross biological explanations) it is! And as a bonus that one's nearly all written up already because I was writing it in emails to Molly. \o/