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#brendon urie #beebo #beebo urie #patd #panic! at the disco #p!atd #panic at the beebo #post split panic #panic at the disco #panic live #patd live #patd concert #brendon urie saves #patd aesthetic

no, this is a barnes and noble dumbass.

THIS IS MY 1000TH POST. HELL YEAH.

yuh i’m finally writing this is some weird shit. hopefully i do this more often cause, i like doing it i just lack everything to do it. also i didn’t proofread this cause fuck it, y’know? anyway: i’m having them go to my show, because,,,shut up. i miss it. my au, my rules. davey has a mini van and every single newsie is gay. tags: @luv-ya-hun, @and-shes-calling-a-cab, @crutchie-mcrris warnings: swearing

JANUARY 13TH, 4:00 PM. 3 HOURS BEFORE ARENA DOORS OPEN. Crutchie paced in front of the door, staring down at his phone. “C’mon, c’mon Davey, any minute now...” he muttered, glancing up from his phone to look out the window. They had to get to the arena soon if they wanted to avoid traffic, get to their seats and get merch before the show. It wasn’t that long of a ride into Manchester, but it was long enough. Which was why they needed to leave NOW.

His phone dinged and a familiar horn honked outside. A sigh of relief escaped him as he grabbed his small backpack and ran out the door, letting it slam shut behind him. He hadn’t locked it but he wasn’t too worried about it. Jack would be home in an hour and he could deal with it. All Crutchie needed to deal with was getting to the arena and having the best night ever. He’d been saving for these tickets ever since the tour was mentioned. He had wanted to go years before but he never had enough to go see them. But for the past few years, he slowly convinced his friends to like Panic! At The Disco and now they were seeing them together. “Heya Davey,” he greeted as he pulled open the passenger side door and sat down. “Are you ready?” he asked, clicking his seatbelt in while Davey pulled out of his driveway and headed down the road. “Sure,” Davey sighed, his head hanging slightly low. It had taken nearly a year of begging and puppy dog eyes but it worked, Crutchie had convinced Davey to come with him. Davey, unfortunately, didn’t like Panic! At The Disco and would rather live with Albert and Race than see them live. Crutchie’s reasoning for bringing Davey was that they needed a cameraman and they needed someone who wouldn’t get them killed driving. Jack was originally the first option but he had to take another shift at the bar and couldn’t come. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Crutchie turned away from the window and looked over at Davey. “Who else do we need to pick up? And more importantly, how long is this gonna take? The doors open at seven! SEVEN! It takes an hour to get there and with everyone else in this car it might just be longer!” He exclaimed, tensing up against his seat. “Calm down, Crutchie. We’re about to pick up Katherine. Next on the list is Spot, Race and Hotshot and those idiots are spending the afternoon together or something. It’ll be quick. I promise,” he assured him as the car slowed in front of a rather nice two-story house. The dull red front door burst open and Katherine came running out to the car, dressed almost completely in merch. Crutchie smiled at her shirt; it was an old piece of merch. Since Katherine had gotten into the fandom recently, she wasn’t able to get merch for her favorite album, Vices and Virtues. So, the two of them spent an entire Saturday scanning Ebay, Poshmark and whatever other store they could find for old merch. They found the perfect shirt at around ten pm and celebrated with going to bed. “Let’s go!” Katherine shouted, almost immediately after the car door shut. She chose her spot to be right in the middle, leaning onto the console so she could talk to both of the boys. Her smile was wide and one of her legs was bouncing up and down. She might’ve been more excited than Crutchie. Davey started driving once more and talking with Katherine. While that happened, Crutchie stared out the window. It’s not like he wasn’t interested in their conversation, he just didn’t have the energy. He was too worried about getting to the venue on time to participate in the conversation. Before the three of them knew it, they had pulled up to Spot’s house and Katherine was rolling down the back window. She leaned her head out of the car and cupped her hands around her mouth before yelling: “Hey dumbasses! Let’s get gay and get going NOW so we can feel Brendon Urie breathe! And if you don’t get out here in the next few minutes I’ll come in there and break your shit!” Almost as quickly as those words came out, the three boys did too, merch on and respective pride flags flowing like capes behind them. Spot and Hotshot beat Race to the car, which surprised everyone already in the car until they saw Race in the driveway fixing his untied shoe. Race pulled open the door to see everyone already settled in their seats and no room for him. “Get in the back row loser,” Hotshot said, pointing to the third row behind him which caused Race to frown dramatically and climb over Katherine to reach the empty row.

“Is this everybody?” Crutchie piped up, turning around to look over everyone behind him. “Yep,” they all replied in unison. “Davey pass the AUX, please. This our night and you have no say in any of this.” Crutchie held his hand out to the boy beside him, still turned around in his seat.

Once he felt the rubber cord in his hand, he turned back around and plugged it into his phone. “Listen guys, Albert dared me to not listen to a single song that was on the setlist until after the concert. And I’m not giving up anytime soon. So, underrated bops time!” he called before pressing play on his playlist. Within seconds, the entire car, except for Davey, was screaming the words. “OH DON’T YOU WONDER WHEN THE LIGHT BEGINS TO FADE? AND THE CLOCK JUST MAKES THE COLORS TURN TO GRAY?” Suddenly, the car pulled into a lot and stopped. “Are we here?” “No, this is a Barnes and Noble, dumbass,” Spot said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Oh.” Crutchie cut in. “Then why did we stop?” “Two reasons. One: we have two hours to kill. Two: I’m guessing y’all are hungry and I’m not letting you guys pay for expensive arena food,” Davey replied, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the car. The others followed, leaving most of their belongings in the car. The six of them wandered around for a while before meeting back up at the small cafe part of the store. Spot and Katherine were already seated with Katherine reading a Twenty One Pilots edition of Rocksound and Spot scrolling through his phone with his feet on what was supposed to be Race’s chair. Race was resting his arms on the top of the chair and eating a muffin. Crutchie pulled up another chair as he scanned the aisles below them for any sign of the other two. He could see Hotshot browsing the magazines, probably looking for his own edition of Rocksound. Davey, however, vanished. The mystery of where Davey had gone was quickly solved as about five minutes later, the taller boy came up the stairs and joined the others at the table. “Somehow, not a single issue of Rocksound here covers Panic! At The Disco. Said they’re all out of stock. I tried, guys,” he sighed, sitting back in his chair. Katherine smiled, looking up from her magazine. “Aww, thank you for looking, Davey. That’s really sweet of you!” The five of them talked for a while, Hotshot showing up halfway through their stay with a coffee and a random book. “Guys! It’s 6:35!” Crutchie yelled, almost knocking his chair over as he stood up. “Grab your shit!” That was all that was said before Crutchie took off, Race immediately following after him, determined to get a better seat than before. The six friends piled into Davey’s van minutes later and took off down the road, getting honked at by a few cars who didn’t understand how important it was they got there fast. JANUARY 13TH, 7:09 PM The doors have opened. Thirty minutes of loud singing and near death experiences later (don’t ask), Davey’s van pulled into a parking space outside of the arena guided by a few workers. Spot, Race, Hotshot and Davey climbed out while Crutchie and Katherine seemed to take their time. “Hey, Crutchie?” Katherine asked as the two stepped out. Her hands were fumbling around in her bag, looking for something. A minute later, a lesbian flag appeared, folded up in her hands. Slowly, she held it up and let go of the folds, letting it unfold before her, the bottom barely scraping the pavement. “Can you help me tie this?” Crutchie quickly nodded, grabbing the flag from her hands and walking behind her. Gently, he laid it on her shoulders and then tied the ends around her neck. Loose enough so she wouldn’t struggle to breathe but tight enough so it wouldn’t come undone. “Now that I’ve helped you, can you tie mine?” Crutchie asked, pulling a very folded up pan flag from his jean pocket. “Of course! Come here!” A minute or two later, the two walked up to the venue, smiling widely. After passing through security, they were greeted by the others who were waiting. Other fans pushed past them, trying to get to their seats. “There you two are! Can we please get to our seats now?” Spot asked, surprisingly excited for the concert. Everyone knew Spot liked Panic! but nobody expected him to be super excited or fanboying over them. The car ride to the venue changed that though. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go,” Davey replied, grabbing Race and pulling him along. They slowly counted the numbers above the entrances until they found theirs and headed down the stairs. “WAIT-- we have floor seats?!” Spot exclaimed. Crutchie couldn’t help but laugh. The Spot Conlon fanboying over seats and a band. Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. He was allowed to have interests. But it was a great and hilarious sight. “Yes, I’ve been saving for years. This is going to be the best night of our lives, of course we have great seats!” Crutchie replied, pushing past Davey and leading them down to their seats. The entire stage was in a triangle shape, their symbol. Their seats were on the left side, closer to the stage so they could actually see onto the stage. “We made it!” JANUARY 13TH, 8:55 PM Openers have finished, the clock is counting down. The five stood, watching the arena light up with phone flashlights while hundreds of voices sang along to Africa. If someone had told Crutchie that in two years he’d be crying to Africa at a Panic! At The Disco concert, he would’ve smacked them. But there he was, clinging to Katherine and sobbing. It wasn’t much but to him it was powerful, a whole arena unified by a single interest and joining together for a single song. There would never be another moment like that. He’d never have something like this again. Sure, there’d be another concert, maybe even another Panic! concert, but it would never be exactly the same. The timer on the stage, which only Davey could really see, read 4:59. 4 minutes and 59 seconds until the man who saved him back in middle school would be in front of him, performing songs that kept him going. JANUARY 13TH, 8:59 PM One minute left. The crowd begins chanting and counting down. “Ten!” “Nine!” “Eight!” “Seven!” “Six!” “Five!” “Four!” “Three!” “Two!” “One!” Screams erupt as the arena darkens, a few pale blue spotlights focus on the stage as platforms rise up, the elegant sound of strings following it. “Ode to the old, and to the new, we rededicate this song to you…” Confetti blasts, stretching over the group’s head and falling into the crowd as music blasts.The small display screens built into the stage burst with color. “FUCK A! SILVER LINING!” Surprisingly, Crutchie was screaming FUCK the loudest out of the group. Even Davey looked over at him, his eyes wide. He shrugged it off and continued singing along. Time passed quickly, unfortunately for Crutchie before he knew it, Brendon and his white, flying piano were landing near the stage. It landed half on the stage and right next to the others. Crutchie and Spot both reached out, desperate for at least a handshake. And they got it. A scream came from both boys as their hands were shaken by Brendon before he stepped off the platform and onto the stage. “Holy shit!” Katherine shouted. “You lucky bitches!” A familiar sound then hit Crutchie’s ears. It was the instrumentals to a great, great song. “Guys! Take off your flags!” Spot shouted, fumbling with his own pride flag that was tied around his neck, causing the others to do the same. The screens lit up with every color, the lights above the stage copying them. “AND NEVER DID I THINK THAT I, WOULD BE CAUGHT IN THE WAY YOU GOT ME. PUSH ANOTHER GIRL ASIDE AND JUST GIVE IN…” “GIRLS LOVE GIRLS AND BOYS.” As the chorus kicked in, the group began throwing their flags towards the stage with all their strength. And as the song continued, one by one, they got picked up and draped around Brendon’s neck. Nearly silent screams were exchanged between the group. This was amazing. The best night ever. Although they didn’t say it, it was obvious they felt as though it was a dream. One they hoped would never end. Sadly, the night began to come to an end. The final lines of Victorious rang out through the arena as confetti filled the void it left behind. As the band left the stage and the lights flicked back on, Crutchie felt his heart sink slightly. The best night had ended. Dropping to his knees, he tried to ignore it as he joined the others in scooping up as much confetti as possible and shoving it into their pockets to be sorted into small jars later. The group followed the crowd out into the cold night air, hands all intertwined. Crutchie stared down at the golden piece of confetti in his hands. It had shot out right at the start and he had grabbed it. He twirled it around, trying to still feel the rush of that moment and every moment that followed after that. He was never going to forget this. “Tonight we are victorious, champagne pouring over us. All my friends we’re glorious, tonight we are victorious.”

#newsies #panicatthedisco #crutchie morris #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #spot conlon #hotshot newsies #brendon urie #panic live #pray for the wicked #pray for the wicked tour

you know that one panic! performance where ryan sings “ well i’m afraid that I” , you know the one. that gets me fucking HIGH

Tonight at the P!ATD concert.

Fan: BLESS MY BABY

Brendon.: um alright. *jumps off stage.* by the power invested in me....by the sate of... Panic. I bless your baby? *jumps back on stage * guess im ordained now. Was never very religious, but okay. Youre baby is going to be beautiful.