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Life at the Decay Academy (Part Twenty)

Part Nineteen

Author’s Ramblings: So my munchkins, this is it. It’s over. Our journey into the mad universe we’ve created is done. It’s been long, and it’s been difficult, but we’ve finished what we will forever call our baby, and let it go into the wonderful world of LiveJournal where we know it will be safe. There’s so much that we want to say about all of this, but there are simply not enough words. So we’ll just leave you with this: our final chapter. Today we finally find out what Pete had to say all along. We find out the truth, and we find out just what goes on inside that little brain of his. This is all we have to say. Bye Decay. We’ll miss you.

P.S. Anniversary of Decay! One year ago today we posted the first mental part, so happy birthday Decay. Best to start where you began, eh? Also, everything in bold is a diary entry, everything in italics is a flashback.

Authors: conversekilljoy n mothertruckin

Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )
P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st
Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plot lines.
Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets..

Pete’s P.O.V.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   We’re done. It’s finally, finally over. I glance at the mess of people on the corridor beside me, resisting the urge to join what looks like the mass orgy. I’ll just outshine them all, poor souls. But yes, I have other business to attend to. Raiding the now empty dorms that my babies used to inhabit. Maybe I’ll find some left over goodies. Like porn.

   Or a boy.

   I’m at the rooms in no time, bounding to collect my bounty. I enter the first dorm, hands a-ready for nabbing. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! “Let’s start in the drawers, me thinks,” I mutter to myself, because it’s what I do. The room is fairly standard, all of the boxes moved out, everything left neat and tidy. I clearly have an easy job ahead of me.

   After raiding the drawers, I try under the rug, the wardrobe, the cupboards, even the flower baskets outside the window. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Fuck. I’ve taught the little pricks well in the art of disguise. Well, one more place to check!

   The mattress is a key check point when snooping, as all manner of things can be hidden here. Money, tools, and (from personal experience) very, very small men. Now, let’s see what I can- oh.

   What’s this? A book. Upon closer inspection, I see it’s a diary. ‘The Diary of Kieran Summerlin’ it reads on the cover, along with ‘Decay Academy’ scratched into it. How sweeeet! A little record of his final year at the school of kings... And a lost diary? Maybe he’ll come back for it, and then… Oh my, control yourself Mr. Wentz.

   I sit on the rug, and flip open the first page.

   September 12th

   So, it’s my first day back at school, and I kind of wanted to keep a diary, seeing as it’s my last year. I’ll try and write in here every day, just to record stuff that happens, and maybe look back on it one day. If Mr. Wentz doesn’t find it first and destroy it-

   YEEEEEESSSSSSSSS, I’VE HAD INFLUENCE! I have left my mark on these kids and they can do fuck all about it! HaHA! Punching the air, I celebrate for a couple of moments, before continuing to read, a smile stretched over my face.

   Although he isn’t really a bad guy. Pete’s just… strange. As people are. He loves us, like a family, but he doesn’t really know how to show it in the right way. But enough for now. I need to go unpack. And hide this. Under my mattress, maybe.

     … “Oh,” I whisper, a little bit shocked. I didn’t know that… oh. Okay then. Glancing at the clock, I reconsider reading this thing. Eleven thirty, I guess I have time for just a little bit of reading. Just a little.

   Turning the pages, I skim over the entries he’s made. This Kieran has really been everywhere. And he writes every single fucking thing down. Halloween, Bonfire Night, the works. As I flick through, one of the sentences catches my eye, and a little grin forms itself on my lips.

   November 23rd

   Today was a little strange. Mr. Urie ran out of Drama and went to the Music class. It took him about ten minutes to come back, and he was white as a ghost. He muttered something about a trombone before he fainted. We had to carry him all the way up to Greta, the nurse, so she could help. But when I told her what he had said she fainted too. So we had to help them both. It was weird. I wonder if the rest of the year will be this eventful…

   Heh. Heh. Heh. That trombone. I miss that thing. I could play it so well. And the way it would slide… (The authors would like the reader to interpret that last sentence as they will) And that day was pretty damn funny. Someone should make a story of that. But back to reading a teenager’s diary.

   Over the course of the next half hour, I make my way through the rest of November and December, remembering quite a lot of the days myself. I stop at 23rd December, the day of the staff party. I really wanted to have that voodoo guy come in, but nooo, it’s too ‘dangerous’. Whatever that means. I look down and begin to read.

   23rd December

    I am so weirded out right now. I’m not sure what I’ve just watched to be honest. So today, I was in music, and I fell asleep, for like, four fucking hours. About seven o’clock I wake up, and there’s this music playing so loud. So I sit up from under the desk where I had fallen, and there all of my teachers are, partying. How they didn’t notice me I had no fucking clue. Anyway, I sit there dazed for a while, trying to think of a way to escape because I will get dragged into something freaky like a frickin’ Ouija board or something, when this guy bursts in the door. Wearing a balaclava. Holding a gun.

   Ah yes, I remember this! I may have been on a sugar rush at the time, and been steaming drunk, but I remember. This was a fun night…

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” A scream pierces the music, which stops suddenly, and everyone stops boogying. Apart from me, because when I dance, I must dance. They look at me, even screaming balaclava man, until I finish. Only then do I register the situation.

   We’re in the middle of a hold up.

   Someone get me my fucking machete. I mess this honey up until he’s picking up his fingers with his remaining toe.

   Okay Pete, calm down. Talk to the man before you fuck him up. There we go. I plaster on my happy smile, and stride towards him (bitchin’, of course). I stop about ten feet away, so I can pull some ultra matrix move if he fires. Because I can do that. I practise.

   Spencer grabs my arm, trembling and even paler than usual. “Pete,” he whispers. “What the hell are you doing?”

   "Reasoning with him.”

   Spence’s mouth turns into an ‘o’ and he points to gun-man, shaking his head. “He’s got a fucking gun!”

   "Doesn’t mean he’s not a good person!”

   ...silence, until Spencer gestures me to carry on, shocked. For goodness sakes, has no one heard of talking nowadays? I nod, look back at the dude and clear my throat.

  "Good Sir, are you here to rob and or rape us?” Best start eloquently. Yet I hear groans of despair coming from my loving staff. Must be that damn cheese I bought, shits your stomach right up.

   The man holding a gun laughs, manically I might add, and cocks the pistol. “No, I’ve come for a man who owes me a whole lot of fucking money.”

   Ah, he’s a pimp. “I see. Could you point me to the man who served you for a while?” I bet its William, the hot slut. Or Frank. He’s bendy.

   Hmm. He looks confused. I’d better elaborate; he might be stoned, poor pimpin’ soul. “Which one of my staff used to be a street walker for you?”

   "You think I’m after a prostitute?” What else could it be?

   "Well, I assume so, yes.”

   The guy starts laughing again, suddenly stopping and pointing his gun at Frank. I fucking knew it! “No,” he mutters, “this little fuck didn’t pay me for keeping him out of jail!”

   Standing next to me, Gerard almost faints, and staggers towards me. “Pete,” he says desperately, “Pete, for fucking hell’s sake, do something.” Hang on Gee, I’m busy. When I don’t reply to him, he starts screaming.


   "WHAT?!?” Hey, I didn’t know I could amplify my voice! I try to do it again, but won’t work. Aww, I could’ve been Superman. Wait, if I didn’t amplify my voice, then what the…

   I look at the guy pointing the gun, who even under his mask I can tell is confused.

   Using my Sherlock powers, I come to the only conclusion.

   "Dad, put the gun down would you?”

   "Pete?” My dad pulls off his mask, and I screech, running to hug him. After our manly embrace, I turn to the rest of the party, grinning. “Guys, it’s my dad!”

   ...again, silence.

   Ah, fuck ‘em. I turn to my father. “Dad, why did you point a gun at my friend?”

   "Oh, because he was accused of murder, and if I hadn’t of been hid defence, he would’ve ended up in the slammer. I want my money son, you know how I feel about money.”

   "Yeah, I-“

   "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?” God, Frankie, chill it, you were not shot. We both turn to my hysterical councillor, who has collapsed on the floor. “I have never even been to court, what the hell are you talking about fucking murder for?!?” Frank is near to tears, and if he starts crying so will I, so we’d best sort this.

   I look up at my dad, who seems puzzled. “You’re not Miss Lestrange?”

   Oh my God. “Dad, Harry Potter.”

    It takes a few seconds for it to sink in. “Oh yeah! Sorry about that my boy.” He holds out a hand to Frank, who is still in shock. “Well, I must be off. See you soon Pete.” With a pat on the back, my Dad waves to everyone, and leaves.

   I think that went well.

   "Okay fuckers, let’s get the music back on!” I run to the speakers, the last thing I hear before turning the stereo on being-


    Wow, that was a fun party. I look up from the diary, smiling at the memory. The boy seemed a bit scared though.

    Looking at the clock, it’s only one. I guess I could carry on for a little while…

   Flicking through, I enter January, where there’s an account of Kieran seeing me observing a lesson (He was staring through the doors, and I kind of felt violated). Then that time I caught those fine ass boys making out outside Patrick’s room-

   “Oh shut up and kiss me!” Oh Christ, oh Christ that’s hot.

   That’s nice.

   That’s very nice.

   Oh man, that’s just-

   Why am I falling?

   I still don’t remember why I was up there. Anyway.

   I spot a teacher-parent meet entry, about my heroic acts against that beastly mother and her outrageously homosexual son-


   We swoop down like mother-fucking ballet eagles of sass.

   There’s an entry about the all nighter we welcomed the Sisters with-

   These two girls, Sasha and Sam? Joined the school.

   Females. Actual female girly girl women.

   It’s wonderful.

   ...they’re pretty.

   Another about some party with Mr Shadow Guy for a birthday. Paint balling.

   I think I may have shot Dylan in the nuts.

   Hehe. Some more stuff about me in the changing rooms… oh. This is new. I skim over the start of May 17th, trying to find what happened next. He’s sitting in the corridor, drawing some shit, Mikey trips over him. Ah. Here we go…

   I dropped everything, sprawled out on the floor. I was rubbing my head because I hit it pretty hard, and I look up to see Mikey Way, our IT teacher, on his knees next to me, crying. I was really confused, but I had to do something, I can’t leave the poor guy.

   I say to him “Uh, Mikey? Why are you out this late?” He just looked at me, breathing all heavy, and he just said “Party, now bed.” Pete had this party, must have been a Satanic holiday or something.

   Well, I knew that I needed to make him feel better, so I asked him what was wrong. All I get for a reply is “broke up” before the poor guy starts crying again, silent tears. Now, I’m not the best with people, but I can hardly leave him there. So I scooted across to him and put my arm around his shoulders.

   “Calm down Mr Way. We all break up with people, it’s what happens. So you guys had a fight, I’m sure you’ve had fights with girlfriends before, right?”

   He just stared at the floor for a minute before replying.

   "Yeah, but I’ve never had a fight with a boyfriend before.”

   Okay, I kind of panicked a little. What was I meant to say?

   "Well… you’re pretty torn up about this, so I bet he feels the same way. Look, you two must be really, really close, so maybe if you both show each other how broken up you are about this, then maybe you’ll remember how close you are instead of what pulled you apart?”

   Mikey just looked at, his cheeks wet, and I think I saw a glimmer of a smile.

   "Thanks. Kieran, right?” I nodded. “I need to go think. Thanks again. Now off to bed. It’s almost one.” He got up, smiled at me again, and walked away, hands running through his hair.

   Poor Mikey. I hope things turn out okay.

   ...I need to meet this kid! He sounds amazing! Christ, he’s awesome.

   Holy shit, it’s four o’clock. I’ve been here for hours! I shuffle my numb legs (heh heh heh) and get comfortable. I have started now, may as well finish.

   The rest of the diary is pretty empty, a few birthdays and stuff penciled in until about two weeks ago. And this one is really, really interesting.

   July 13th

   Oh my God. Okay, I was standing outside Mr Wentz’s office with some ‘Candle Salad’, whatever that is, and I hear this conversation going on inside…

   “Ah, Greta, my dear, how wonderful to see you!” I open my arms for Greta to hug me, but she shakes her head and sits down. “Pete, I need to tell you something.” Oh, I love me a secret!

   "Lemme guess, lemme guess!...” I ponder for a second, finger acting as a moustache. “Are you going to the moon?”

   Greta smiles. “No Pete honey.”

   "Are you a vampire?”



   "No, I am not an angel Pete…” She’s blushing, she lies. But that’s probably not what she wants to tell me. Angels are secretive little things…

   "Okay, I give up. Tell tell tell!”

   Giggling, Greta takes a deep breath and smiles, looking straight into my eyes. “Pete, I’m pregnant.”



   "OH MY GOD! GRETA, WOW!!” I leap across my desk in sheer, utter joy, and embrace the delicate girl sitting on the other side. This is amazing! Greta’s going to be a mom! AWESOME!

   "Greta, oh my God, how long have you known, what are you going to call it, does-“

   "Pete, calm down!” She shushes me with a finger to the lips, and I sit on her lap, patient for details and mindful of her abdomen.

   "Well,” she begins rocking me, maternal instincts already well trained, “I found out this morning, and I called Butcher an hour ago. He can’t wait to be a dad. And I want to call the baby Victoria if it’s a girl and Pete-Adam if it’s a boy. After his uncle and his mom’s best friend.”

   Hehe! I get to be an uncle! WOAH! I can’t stop bouncing, I can’t stop bouncing!

   "Gretaaaaaaaaa…” Please let me, please please please…

   "Yes you can tell mom and dad.”

   "I love you so much Sis!” I plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek and dash to my phone, dialling our parent’s number. This is going to change our lives!

   I hear Greta laugh a little, and I wave my sister out the door, smiling like a maniac. She opens it, and I hear mumbles, when she comes back in, placing a box on my desk.

   I know very well what those are.

   Heh heh heh.

   That was possibly the best day of my life. Bar starting this place up. They’re like a family to me already.

   I sigh, closing the diary and standing up. I guess it’s time for me to go and wave the little babies off. I’m going to miss them…

   "Oh you found it!” What? Snapping my head up I see a tall boy with dark, sticky up hair standing in the doorway, a relieved look on his face. So this is Kieran. “Pete,” he walks forward, “you found my diary!”

   Oh. “Erm, yeah, it was under the mattress. Here,” I hold it out, smiling, trying my best not to cry. I’m letting go. “Good luck Kieran. You be safe with that thing now, yeah?”

   "Yeah. Yeah, I will be. Thanks,” Kieran checks quickly inside the cover, and, satisfied with its content, begins to leave.

   "Um, Kieran?”

   He turns, still smiling. “Yes Sir?”

   "Will you… will you miss this place? When you’re gone for good?”

   He looks a little shocked, and after a second replies, sounding choked up. “Yeah, of course I will. I’ll miss the people mostly, the friends I’ve made. It’ll be sad, but we’ve got to move on, right?” The boy tries to grin, but falters a little. “I… I’ll miss you, Mr Wentz.”

   ...okay, that’s it, tears.

   I leap, pulling Kieran into an embrace. I know how it is to be an outsider, not noticed by anyone. I doubt I would have even known who he was if not for the damn diary. But at least he was at my school, where no one is actually an outsider. Everyone’s just different. And I’m going to miss that.

   "I’m going to miss you too Kieran.” I’m crying. Actually crying.

   We stay like that for a little while, before I move back. We grin at each other, and the boy looks surprised I haven’t touched him. “Well,” he looks at the clock, and around the room, one last time. “Time to go, eh?”

   "Yeah,” I reply, looking around too. “Time to go.”

   We leave, and Kieran runs down the corridor to say goodbye to his friends, waving back at me. I’m going to miss these kids.

   Wandering into my office, I ponder over the last thing the kid said to me. ‘Time to go’.

   I really hate time. Time just takes things away from you and doesn’t give them back. Although, without time, you wouldn’t have memories, would you? And you wouldn’t remember the people who you make those memories with. Your friends, your family. They’d be gone because there’d be no time to remember. And even though these past three years have changed everyone involved in them, time has managed to get us back to where we started, just as better people. Us, still making music and travelling the world with our friends and family. The kids, back to stressing about the future and making mistakes until they get it right.

   But all with a family that will live with them forever.

   It’s good to end where you begin.

   I look out my window, watching the kids and teachers alike crying and saying goodbye.

   I watch them, one final time, smiling. They don’t know it, but I do.

   God they’re pretty.

   So, so pretty…

Decay Photo Shoots: Ryan


This is Ryan Ross (or George Ryan Ross III

#1 Ryan

He is the English teacher at the Decay Academy. And a international star. But he prefers the teaching for now.

#2 English teacher

Ryan is in a relationship with Brendon Urie, the lead singer of the band they have together. They are a very cute couple:

#3 Brendon


But let's be honest. Who couldn't fall for THIS face?

#4 Baby Ryan

Yes... but they are extremely happy together, always have been, always will be.

#5 Brendon and Ryan are cute together

As we know, Ryan has had a few different looks throughout the years as his music has changed, like his band members. First we had the famous rose vest of the Fever years:

#6 Fever Fashion

Then the  headband and waistcoat era of the Pretty. Odd.  :

  #7 Pretty. Odd. Fashion                                                                                                                     


Followed by the look Ryan adopted for his side project with Jon Walker, The Young Veins. I like to call it 'Tousled Pirate':

#8 The Young Veins Fashion

But one thing he's always loved is his scarves. So many scarves...

#11 Scarves 3-3

#9 Scarves 1-3

#10 Scarves 2-3                                                                                                                                               

At first, Ryan was nervous about taking the job at Decay. He's be working alongside My Chemical Romance, his heroes, which he wasn't all too keen to come across as a crazy fangirl. Like this: 

#12 Nerves about work

But, after meeting with Pete Wentz about the matter, Pete (being the persuasive genius he is) got Ryan drunk and made his agree to the job. Ryan actually has no recollection of the night, apart from this picture:

#13 Meeting the Decay teachers

Ryan still hopes to this day that they didn't actually get arrested. Aside from getting drunk with Pete, Ryan loves animals:

#14 Aniaml 1-2

He even has a dog called Hobo, who lives with him and Brendon.              

#15 Animal 2-2

 Ain't she sweet? Anyway. Ryan loves what he does, and even though (like every single one of the teachers at the school) he can act like a child:

#16 Silly

He does take his teaching seriously. He loves doing it. Which is good for the students. Because he looks fine in a suit:
#17 Hot
Make sure you've read the first half of this chapter before carrying on!


Bob's P.O.V

  I should really stop forgetting how beautiful she is. As we dance to the music, with all of our friends surrounding us, I have to remind myself just how damn lucky I am.

  "Bob?" Vicky is looking up at me with a those gorgeous wide eyes, and I feel fourteen again. Oh man, I really couldn't care about anything but her right now. "Yes Vicky," I hear my mouth say, "What’s up?" Smiling down at her, just keep doing that. That's all I can do.

  "You know how we used to be fucking idiots to each other?"

  "I do indeed."

  "And it was because we basically lived together, being here and all?"

  ... Alright, I'll play. "Yeah?"

  She hesitates, and I can feel my stomach lurch a little bit. Keep calm Bryar, chill it. We keep dancing, and I want to freeze this moment, right before it's killed.

  Vicky snaps me out with the end of a sentence I've missed by being a paranoid bitch.

  "....-ace of our own?"

  "Uh," I mutter, like an idiot, "pardon?"

  She laughs (thank shit). "Us, getting a place of our own. Living together Bob."

  Oh. Wow.

  This. This is...

  "Wow." The only thing I can say is wow. Admittedly, the most beautiful woman in the world, whose arms are wrapped around my shoulders for a waltz in the scarlet dress she wore to our first dance has just asked me to be part of her life - like, living life, not 'bit on the side' life - so I am entitled to be a little bit shocked.

  "Yeah," she carries on calmly, ignoring my gormless expression, "we could go back to Chicago or Jersey, be near family and friends and stuff, or we could go to California and live in L.A. for the band. We can get a small apartment at first, maybe work our way up to an actual house one day. I know we've got the money and stuff to get a house now, but I think that living up in the sky with you would be just... magic." Her fingers trace the shirt I'm wearing, and I can feel the warmth of those fingers that I've always adored.

  Right, Bob, time to make yourself smart. Gerard's emotion, Ryan's lyricist words, Patrick's texture.

  "... Wow."

  Victoria laughs again, hugs me closer, and I should be writing frickin' sonnets for the things I'm feeling. She looks back up at me, and if I could replace her smile with the stars, I wouldn't be looking at something as beautiful as I am now.

  "Well," she whispers to me, "looks like one of us will still be a fucking idiot." She sighs gently, and I feel content in it. "At least you're my idiot."

  I honestly couldn't have it any other way.

Gerard's P.O.V.

  "Frankie, we did it!" I can't be-fucking-leive it! We actually managed to pull this shit off, and pull off with 'style'.

  The style, honestly, was no surprise.

  Frank grins at me, and we keep dancing away like we're twelve years old. We deserve it, what with the shit storm of emotions that is Mikey we've dealt with.

  "Of course we did it Gee. We keep on winning," he giggles, fucking adorable bastard.

  "You're a fucking adorable bastard." It had to be said. Truly, it did.

  "I know it. Now, I have something to tell you." I can feel cheeks going red, just like they always do when they are excited.

  "Commmmmeeeeeeooooonnnnnn Frankaaaaayyyyyyy, teeeeeeeelllll meeseee!" Singing at him, I grab his hands and pull him into a foxtrot. Because I own that shit.

  "Well, three weeks ago," Frank begins to mumble his story, "we bought a house together, and it's a big fucking house. Serious, that shit could... Anyway. I did something that I am hoping will make you incredibly happy and joyous and will not make me single, and I think now is about the time to tell you." He starts to fumble in his pocket for something, and before he can say anything-


  Frank's head shoots up, and a confused look spread across his face. "Wha-what did you just say?"

  ...think I said it right. Is there, like, an acceptance manual or some shit like that?

  "I said yes, Frankie. That 'is' what you were getting at?" Oh shit.

  Slowly, I watch Frank make some realisation, and by the look on his face I think it's a surprise to him too.

  "Oh," is the first word to come out of his mouth, "'that'. Well, I thought it would be a bit mean to have both life changing revelations to myself, so I... kind of left that to you." He's chewing his lip and I think I just... did I just get rejected for a proposal that didn't happen?

  I take a breath, slightly confused, and look at Frank. "Okay then..." I wonder if...



  "If you’re not going to, then can I...?"

  Frank nods, smiling like a child. "Sure. You go first."

  Oh. I slide off the ring I bought at Comicon last year and sort of... bend whilst I say the words. "So, will you marry me?"

  "Of course I will!" He leans forward, kisses me, and I place the ring on his finger.

nbsp; Best. Proposal. Ever.

  "Alrighty Gee, my turn." Frank pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket, and opens it out. "I think that our house is a bit too big for the two of us."

  "Well, we can find another, Frank. There are plenty in Jersey because no one wants to fucking live there but us so-"

  "Gerard, I don't mean it won't be perfect. It will be, it already is. I just think that maybe with another person living inside..."

  Does he mean a roommate? A collage kid? "Frank, please don't leave me for having no brain, what are you talking about?" My boyfriend ('fiancé' my brain screams like an eight year old) just sniggers and shakes his head.

  "No, Gee, I mean... a family. A kid." I get a closer look at the papers, and I see the word 'adoption'. Oh my God. I- what did- how-

  "Oh my God." I am. So. Intelligent.

  Frankie giggles his little ass off, and I can only pull him into a crushing hug, never letting go. There are words coming out of our mouths, but I just can't concentrate on them right now.

  We're going to do this. We're going to have a kid, a 'baby'. We're going to be parents.

  I'm going to be a dad.

Jon’s P.O.V.

     I cuddle into Spence’s neck, and observe the lovely skin lit in the candle light. “I didn’t know you had a beauty spot baby.”

     “Bitch please, I am a beauty spot.” What the-

     I feel a small gust in my ear, as another, female, voice appears. “Truth to that. Runs in the family.” Whoosh she’s gone, dancing with Sam.

     I look up to the man I love, smirking a signature smile and eyebrow cocked into just the right proportion of sarcasm, humor and sass.

     Goddamn ninja… sarcastic… bitchy… ah, Smiths

Part Eighteen

Author’s Ramblings: So this is it! The part we’ve all been waiting for, our final explosion before the fall and the fallout. In other words, the shit hits the fan in this. But it’s good shit. I promise. Okay, so this is going to be when everything falls into place, all of our little pieces align and you find out what (or who) we’ve been hiding in a closet for so long. You’ll all have this mystery cleared in your little heads, and we can all get back to our lives (I would if I had one). Enjoy our baby, we’re going to miss it, and we really hope we’ve done a good job for you guys. Have fun! Also, hope all of you have an awesome Christmas. We love you guys!

P.S. Dedicated to every one of our friends, because they’re like our family and we wouldn’t want it any other way; dysfunctional, weird, and damn right hilarious.

Authors: conversekilljoy dn mothertruckin

Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )
P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st
Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plotlines.
Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets..

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Mikey’s P.O.V.

   Knock. Knock. Knock.

   I wish these people would just fuck off. I groan and roll over, hugging my pillow. They’ve been at it ever since I told Gerard what happened. For Christ’s sake, why can’t they just let me wallow in my own self pity? Urgh…

    Knock. Knock. Knockknockknockknockknock- “Michael James Way, I’m not leaving until you come with me, you little shit!” – Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock.

    “Frank, piss off!” I shout from my foetal position, “I’m not in the mood for this shit!” I can hear him kicking the door with those tiny midget feet of his and its doing my head in. “MIKE-AY WAAAAAY-AAAAAAYYYYYY!!  Move that sweet ass of yours and open the FUCKING DOOR!”

    “Frank, FUCK OFF!” He goes quiet for a second. Hmm, I think it worked.

    “… I’LL TELL YOU WHAT GERARD DID TO ME LAST NIGHT IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!”… He wouldn’t. No, he wouldn’t dare do that to me, the little-

   “Well, last night, Gerard came in with this-“

   Okay, that’s enough! I leap off my bed, sprint to the door and fling it open, to see a midget with a grin I seriously want to smack right now, and my oh-so-loving older brother, who has turned into a pile of sassy mush on the floor.

   “I’m glad you find it fucking funny!” I almost scream at them both. “I’m glad that you both think my heart being broken and pushing my buttons is hilarious! I used to think I had friends!” Oh my God, the bastards. I could just-

   “Mikey Way,” Frank musters in a fairly serious tone, “ever heard of shutthefuckupitis, you whiney little bitch?” Oh hold on now! What did-

   “Yeah, that’s right. I called you a bitch.” Frank stares with somewhat scary eyes, and I just glower. Fucking mind reader…

    When he seems satisfied that I’m not going to try and punch him in the face, he smiles. Wickedly. “Wonderful. Now Mikey Way, I want you to come with me, get changed, make yourself look beautiful, and then we have a surprise for you,” he chirps whilst he’s helping my brother up.

   “Frank, I’m not in the-“

   “BOB!” Both men screech, and I momentarily see Bob before I can’t fucking see at all.


   I can hear their sniggers as Bob picks me up bridal style and carries me off.

   People are going to die for this.

* * * * * * *

   Lights almost blind me, and I have to blind a fuckton before I can even partially see. Now, that I can see...

   We're on the sports pitch, right near the trees. Fairy lights and lanterns glitter the branches and make everything shine. Flowers, lining the edges of the orchard we stand in, colourful and fairly girly. I look at Gerard, because I don't know what the fuck is going on, and he just points towards the mass of people sat, smiling and staring at me.

   The entire school, absolutely everyone is say out here, watching us. I can see Greta with Butcher, dressed in a green floaty dress. Bob, Vicky T, Spencer and Jon, Bill, all of my friends, dressed smarter than they have ever been before. Pupils, smiling, are sitting among the staff, all looking up at me. What? I don't understand…

    My head turns to see seven people stood in a line, all grinning and holding a bouquet in their hands. Lily, red skinny jeans and a white blouse, complimented by her red highlights, next to Sasha, wearing a shocking cerulean gown, like water flowing off her, and blue roses on her hair. I spot Aimee, skirt and All Time Low shirt with a tie, smiling a soft smile. Then Sam, wearing a dress. An actual dress. It's black and it's silky, but that's nothing compared to the look on all of their faces. It's... it's like they are my sisters.

   The other three, friends of the girls. I recognise Peach, who stayed for Christmas, standing next to King Hipster, who wears.... are those sprayed onto his fucking legs? Damn, those jeans are tight even for me. Along with a mane of pure excellence and oh Christ, Phantom Menace dress shirt, he is the Internet. In a person.

    Last, I see who must be the famous Shroom. I mean, that hair.

    Oh wow, how long have I spent thinking about clothes?

     Well, I didn't think I was a stereotypical gay man.

     Pete’s standing up ahead, in what I recognise as Gerard’s old reverend costume. Why would… oh.

     He’s there. Standing, smiling, looking directly into my eyes. In a suit I recognise from countless after parties. To think, months ago we were worrying about picking up chicks at the Valentine’s Day dance, and now look at us.

     I should really thank Frank for making this happen. Devious little bastard.

     My legs move of their own accord, and my mouth just will. Not. Work. Oh shit, I need that to say things with. I reach Ray, and he takes my hands, turning us to face Pete. Our ‘reverend’ looks at me and I try to speak, but no words will come out. It just will not happen.

     Pete reads my mind or some shit and speaks. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Mikey Way, we’re here to get you hitched, not drabble on. Now, Ray Toro, as I am pretty sure our handsome boy here will indeed take you as his lawfully wedded husband, and pretty much had no other say in the matter, you may kiss your bride. And let me watch.”


    Did I just-

    A kiss, and I think I’m married. Married. To Ray Toro. Oh my God…

   Bassist powers deactivate, and emotion roars on my insides, louder than the congregation. I didn’t even know I could feel all of these things at one time. Love, passion, hope, joy, confusion, shocked, all of these things that flood me like a tsunami.

    And… and I’m fucking loving it.

    My legs spring and I wrap them around Ray’s waist (‘Love Actually’ style), my arms clinging on for dear life. Our faces collide again, and I’m never moving. I am never leaving this man, never never never.

    He’s mine. Finally, he’s mine

Part two of this chapter

Author's Rambling's:
conversekilljoy: It's beggining to look a lot like Chri-
mothertruckin: I'M NOT READY FOR THE C WORD YET!! 
conversekilljoy: Ergh, fine. Anyway, this is a side story that we've written together, in one night, for one of our very best friends, Peach. We call him this because he has a face just like a peach. Now, I've got a little thing to add here. He wouldn't let me get him a 'real' present, and I had a bit of a battle with him over this. Well Peach, looks like you've won. I didn't buy anything. So we wrote you this and took pictures instead :) And yeah, the rant? I've been wanting to say this for a while. And yes, there are references to you and me and Sasha in this story. We want you to know that we love you, you're one of our favourite people in the world, and this is our way of saying thank you (in the dramatic way you mock me for :) ) So personally, from me, I want to say thank you for being a complete and utter wonder to me, and for being incredibly funny. Also, for being sensitive and kind when I was talking to you. Thank you so much :) 
mothertruckin: And thank you for protecting me from... the Wottonator.
conversekilljoy: So enjoy Peach :) And everyone else who thought this was an innocent side story, think again! It's a Christmas present that we thought we'd post on here to show our love for our friend. Enjoy my darlings!

P.S. Dedicated to, shockingly, Peach. And Shroom, although he already has his Christmas present.

Disclaimer: Not real, but the characters are.

Warnings: Swearing

conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

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Sam's P.O.V.

“So, why are we in London again?” Pete turns around from looking at Brendon’s ass, and grins at me. “Well, I think that the curriculum needs this educational visit. We’ll be taking a look at museums, Wembley Stadium, plus all of those lovely interesting offices that I know you’d love to see.”


   “You got bored, didn’t you?”


   “Pretty much.” He shrugged, and walked off, leaving about 250 students to wander around the capital city of the United Kingdom. How we ended up with this headmaster, I don’t know. Oh wow, Blue Banana…


   I grab Sasha, Lily and Aimee, and we all head off to possibly a very wonderful, expensive dream that I might just wake up from. Mind you, it’s coming up to Christmas, and Ray asked me what I wanted… cooooonveeeeersssssssee…


   “Okay, I’ll take out the cashier, you three raid the store room, we’ll run, they won’t see our faces, we could have been anybody.” Sasha looks ready to fucking rob a bank, the crouching night stalker she is, and I can’t really believe that the London people aren’t carrying her off in a van. “Sash,” Lily takes her arm, as if talking to a very small child with a hearing problem, “we’re not allowed to take things from the nice people. And remember our talk on the bus, why can’t we take things?” She pauses, looking Sasha straight in the face with me and Aimee on standby in case she tries to bolt. Again. Staring into space Sasha replies with a disheartened voice.


   “Because it’s illegal and rude.” Ah, I knew we’d got her housetrained. Or, city trained. Not really sure how to class it. On normal people, common sense. On Sasha, a frickin’ miracle has taken place.


   “OH JESUS LORD, WE’VE DONE IT!” Aimee seems pretty damn happy that we’ve been able to make Sasha publicly acceptable, and we head into the shop. Oh wow, the holy land is now in my reach…


   Inside, we stay at the doorway just basking in the light of fabulousness before we can move our legs. Sasha heads straight for the Doc Martins whilst we just wander around browsing the loveliness. So many wonderful things. I wonder if I offered myself up as a slave would they-


   “OWWWW!” Oh my God, who did I kill?!? I spin around to see that I’ve just tripped up a boy about our age. He’s on the floor millimetres away from a display, with dark hair and… I swear I know that face… it looks like… a…


   “PEACH!” Dear God, it’s never Peach?! I basically power skid to the floor beside him and I’m smiling like I’ve just seen one of my best friends that I haven’t seen for years. Oh, wait. Anyway, I’m fucking excited. “Dear God man, where have you been?!?  We’ve missed you, you fucking douche! Why haven’t we been out anywhere, and where the hell have you been?!? We’ve just… I’ve missed you so much!” Ah, screw language. Despite his wishes, I pull him into a hug, because damn it, I’ve really fucking missed him. Me and Sasha haven’t seen him since we were in primary school, and we were like, best friends. It’s been years since we last saw each other, and now he’s HERE.


   After what may have been ten minutes, Peach pulls me off him, looking at me with that ever expressive smug face of his. “Well, I am pretty awesome, we’ve both agreed on that.” I laugh, because that’s what I do around him, and we both stand up under the eyes of the unimpressed cashier. “So, Smurf jizz face, what have you been up to since you left home?”


   “I’m at Pete’s school, the Decay Academy. My parent’s sent me there to look after my brother, and Sasha got to come too. Plus we met up with two other girls, Lily and Aimee. You remember them?”


   He contemplates for a second. “Aimee is Scottish friend?”


   “Yes, Scottish Aimee who isn’t really Scottish. But yeah, we’ve really missed you. Come find Sasha, she’ll jump you.” I drag him off to the Doc Martin section, where Sasha is about to achieve an orgasm. I go to shake her from her hunched over gremlin stance, when he stops me. From the gleam in his eye, I know what Peach has planned. Grinning, he produces a water bottle from fucking nowhere, and throws it at the Gollum that has become my best friend. She turns, hissing, holding a black studded boot in her hand.


   Peach just glares at her, head turned onto one sassy side. “That’s for four years ago, bitch.” Instead of smiling, she hesitates, glancing from side to side. Slowly, she looks up at him with a worried look on her face.


   “Did you… is he… is that… thing… Wotton with you?” Peach smiles and I think that maybe he’s going to produce the person that was basically our training for Pete for four years. But he doesn’t. “No, I left him in his cage today.”


   She relaxes. “Good.” Then she launches at him. Smirking at him whilst he is preoccupied with the limpet around his waist, I look all knowing. Am I fucking psychic? I think so…


   “So, where’s Shroom?” She asks. Shroom is a guitar GOD, and I’ve seen many a guitar battle between him and my brother. We’ve known him the same amount of time that we’ve known Peach, and he’s really the reason we were able to make music.


   “He’s off skiing, but I’ll let him know you miss him too. Obviously not as much as me, but it’s something.” Of course, it wouldn’t be Peach without the sarcasm. Or the vanity. Or everything else that makes me want to kill him, but make me laugh. Sasha unlatches herself from Peach’s waist, so she can see his face. Now, we can talk like fairly civilised monkeys. “Anyway, why are you down here? Pete’s brought us Christmas shopping,” I tell him.


   “Oh, I got bored of home. So I drove down to London in my badass Bentley.” He gives me a look, and I can say, this face, it ain’t impressed. “Peach,” I begin to say, “You know that lying is bad for your teeth. It’s why you wear braces.” Ah, the things that pisses him off.


   After a second, he breaks into what he would call on me a ‘Chinese laughing face’. “No, I got bored and took the train. Mum said it was okay so long as I can get home.”


   “So you’re finally allowed into the big bad world by yourself? Aw, sweet!” I seriously missed pissing this boy off. But I think I’ve lost my touch, because he’s laughing at me again. And so is Sasha. Whatever, I’m still a ninja. “Alright, enough laughing at the black belt now!” Not that this will stop them, because really, me hitting someone? Please…


   Once they’ve stopped making fun of me, I look at Peach again. “So Peachface, what do you want for Christmas?” Please don’t still be stubborn, please don’t still be stubborn…


   “Nothing, you know this.”




   “After all these years you’re going to be a stubborn bastard about this?” For Christ’s sake…


   “Yep, I’ll make you work for it, you fucking disgrace!” I burst into a fit of giggles, which makes him burst into a fit of oh so manly giggles, and in turn making Sasha do the laugh. The. LAUGH.


   “Okay, okay…” I say after another ten minutes, when we’re recovering. “We’re marching you up to Oxford Street and getting you a motherfucking present.” I shout to Aimee and Lily, and we drag Peach out of the shop, against much protest. “Sam, listen to me, I don’t want a present! I’ll have to get you one back, and I don’t like the guilt and-“


   “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” We both scream in his face, knocking him back. I look at Sash, and decide I’ll take this one. Stepping forward, I begin. “Okay Peach, you have to understand that we don’t want anything back from you. Not at all. You are a Christmas present in yourself, and we don’t want to receive anything that you have to offer us that you can buy with physical, actual money. We care about you, and we love you. We want to get you something because you’re one of our very, very best friends who deserves pretty things that we want to give you. You will be making us so. Very. Happy. By accepting this from us.” I pause for breath, and Sasha takes over, ending with a wonderful sentiment.


   “And if you don’t accept our present,” she prepares the voice, “Mama is going to show you a bit of tough loving with Mama’s Little Love Handle. ‘Cause you,” she caresses his face (I’m so proud), “are one of my favourite childrens. Understand, you little fuck?” …


    That should get the message across.


   Peach looks fairly shocked, but after a second, he’s on the floor. We just watch, expressions like those of the Faceless Ones. When he gets back up, he’s smiling. Fina-fucking-ly.


   “No, it’s not happening.” MOTHER OF ALL FUCKS!!!


   I contemplate what I could do, until I notice Sasha changing into a tartan dress with a black butterfly collar, and a leather jacket with a studded collar. I would say its weird, her getting changed in the street, but…




   “Sash,” I say questionably, “why are you getting changed?”


   She looks up, smiling. “Meeting up with an old friend. You’ll see.” Ah. As soon as she’s zipped up the back of the dress, she bolts towards a girl whom I recognise to be Miss Peacock, a friend of Sasha’s. She screams “BABYCAKES!” as she runs towards her, and jumps into her arms. I look at Peach, momentarily forgetting what we were talking about and walk over to join them. When we reach them, we overhear their conversation.


   “… missed you so much baby!” Leaning back from the smashing hug they’re entangled in, Sasha looks at her with a dazzling smile. Miss Peacock smiles back, and says something I vaguely remember from English. “Speak again, bright angel.” Oh my God, I should have remembered that she was obsessed with Romeo and Juliet...


   “You’re such a knob.” Sasha laughs.


   “You love me really.”


   “I really do.” By the blush on her cheeks, I know she really does. She always has. Sash turns to me, and is grinning like a fucking idiot. “Sam, I’ll meet you at the bus. We’ve got some catching up to do. Peach, I’ve missed you motherfucker. See you soon!” They walk off, hand in hand, and I can really guess the rest.


   “Wow… really?” Oh yeah, Peach! I turn to him, and just smile my proud smile. “Yeah, really. Anyway, you’re not off the hook! What the fuck am I getting you for Christmas?!?”


“I swear to motherfucking God…” He grabs the tops of my arms and shakes them. “Listen!” he says, and is about to say something else when we hear a far off call from the Spawn of Umbridge.


   “To yo’ Mama now!” We look down the street to see Sasha giggling her apple arse off. Seriously? Huhhh…


   Oh my God! I’ve just had an amazing idea! “Peach! Why don’t you come back with us?!?” This is going to be perfect! I look into Peach’s face, and he’s slightly confused.


   “Uh, what?”


   “Come back to Decay with us! Stay over Christmas! I’ll get Pete to persuade your mum, it’ll be like a family reunion!” Please say he’ll come, please please please?


   He considers it, and when I’m about to accept defeat, he breaks into the smile that has become one of my favourites. “Okay, let’s go!” WOOOO!!!! Like kids, we sprint towards the bus. This is going to be the best Christmas present ever!


(6 weeks later)


   “BYE PEACHY!” Brendon is screaming at the top of his lungs, and I think he may be about to cry. Peach has to go home, and I have to say, I really don’t want him to.


   Peach just laughs and we begin to walk to the gates, where Peach’s mum is waiting for him. Can this walk take an hour? Please time, just stop for a little while?


   Unfortunately we reach the gates, and we turn to face each other. I’m on the edge of tears, which is something that takes a lot to achieve. He looks tired and happy and relaxed and just like the Peach that used to push my things off the desk in class all those years ago. Memories…


   “So this is goodbye for now then?” I try to smile, and I manage, but the tears threaten again, so I look away.


   “Yeah, it is.” Peach is smiling, and I’ve realised just how much we’re going to miss him. I don’t remember it being this bad last time. He’s pulling the car door open, when I slam it shut, and drag him into a bone crushing hug. It knocks him back, and although he doesn’t hug back, I know he means well.


   Without crying, I manage a few words. “I’m really going to miss you, you know that right?” He laughs, probably at my dramatic goodbye, and just picks up a piece of my hair, which is good enough. I let go, and look him in the face.


   “Sam,” he starts, and he’s not being his usual self. This is his sensitive self. “Sam, I’m not going away forever. You’re both coming to see me in the summer, remember? It won’t be too far away.”


   “Yes it will.” I say sulkily.


   “No,” he says, “it won’t. It’ll fly. Now, I’ve got to go. I’ve had an amazing Christmas with you guys, it’s been a lot of fun. Thank you for my Christmas present.” I look up again and I see that smile which always makes me feel better.


   “No,” I start, sticking my hands in my pockets, “thank you for mine. You’ve made our Christmas by staying with us. I’ll see you soon, Peachface.” Without another word, he gets in the car, and I watch it drive away. I begin to walk, but, on old instinct, I turn, just in time to see a boy with a peach face and dark hair doing Gangnam style through the back windscreen. I smile, wave back, and mutter to myself.


   “Best Christmas ever…”
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Okay, so we decided that to make your Christmas just that little bit more enjoyable, we'd post some entertaining pictures of us on here. Peach, we got really bored and thought you might like these. So enjoy, and please don't laugh at us in reg, or whenever you see us next, so that you have something new to mock conversekilljoy for. Enjoy!

Me during the writing process

This is me, conversekilljoy , during the writing process. I had not started dying at this point, but I was fairly sure it was soon after.

Sasha during the writing process

mothertruckin, during the writing process. As you can see, this was a very productive thing to do.

Sash on a stool

She wouldn't get down. It was difficult.

Me and Sash #1

Me and mothertruckin, with Christmas Bear and Christmas Starbucks coffee cup.

Me and Sash #2

Us again, with me reading Skulduggery Pleasant (See Peach, see it?)

Me with Skulduggery

What I did whilst I wasn't writing...

Model it.

... and what mothertruckin did.

Merry Christmas Peach!

Merry Christmas Peach, we love you, as you can see from the crappy painting. Hope you guys enjoyed! 

One on final note, me and mothertruckin would like you all to have a very Merry Christmas, and that this will be the penultimate post before Christmas. The next part you will read is chapter 19 part 1, and the beginning of the end for our crazy universe. See you on the 24th December!

Part Seventeen 

Author’s Ramblings: It’s 10 months into the writing process, and Sasha’s laugh (mothertruckin) is getting worse. What the FUCK are you doing, with your life? Hi, mothertruckin here, and I don’t even know what’s happening with my laugh. It’s humiliating. It sounds like a chicken/seal/Gerard Way monster on vodka. Pretty much. But anyway, we’re on the second instalment of our letter writing, and I’m pleased to announce that we have an official release date for our last part. The anniversary of Decay, 23rd of January 2013 will be the day when me and my lovely co-author hit the send button for our weird and wacky world of the Academy for the last time. So enjoy us while you can, because we’re coming to an end. Enjoy part eighteen, and a little more is told to you, before our big ass truck load of ‘feels’ at the end. (Feels= Tumblr for ‘emotions’. In dedication to MT, who is an AVID Tumblr.)

   P.S. Recently we acquired some new readers, who happen to be male. MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, we finally have some readers of ‘the fairer sex of fanfiction’. They are our very good friends who we go to school with, and we love them very dearly. So, ‘Torine Boy’, ‘Prf. Shroom’ and ‘Peach’, we dedicate this to you, as you make us feel like whenever we talk to you, we’re at home. One thing though:

Torine: We know you love our story. Maybe a bit too much than healthy, but oh well. We thank you for being an absolute, utter fan girl for our mental world. You are king hipster. You have influenced many of our stranger lines in this story,

Prf Shroom: We’re sorry you got dragged into this. It’s your own fault for being too damn curious, but we thank you all the same for reading and accepting it as it is. We love you : ) Also, thank you for playing guitar for us. You are God, and we don’t know what we’d do without you. Probably fail dramatically.

Peach: (conversekilljoy) I really didn’t think you’d like this, but I’m glad you did. I know I’ll probably get mocked and such for saying so, but we think you’re frickin’ awesome (like you need an ego boost). We thank you so much for reading it, and once again, we love you. We hope it is up to your standards.

Okay, longest dedication ever. All three of you, we love you, thank you for joining us. There is no escape now. Oh, one more thing! I will be putting a reference to each of you in here, so be on the lookout.

Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )

   P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st

   Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plot lines.

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets..

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Gabe’s letter

S’up Mama!

                   I’ve been meaning to write to you for ages, but I’ve just not had the time. Too busy with children and whatnot. But anyway, I want you to know that your little pumpkin is okay, and that he’s found himself a boyfriend. His name is Bill, and he’s just pure perfection. You’ll probably remember him Ma, from our first tour? He looks exactly the same… remember when you and I used to dream about the day when I would get myself some man? Ah, good times…

   But yes, a few things I want to tell you. Me and Bill, we’re going to be coming to live in New York when we get out of this place! We’ve got this studio apartment in Queens (I know), and it’s so amazing. Perfect for us. We’re going to be so close, just like we used to before I went on the road. I really can’t wait to get back to you. I remember, you were always fussing about me, that I was catching pneumonia, that I wasn’t eating, that I was somehow going to get abducted by aliens. Do you remember that one time you made me put extra layers on, because I was going to ‘blow away in the wond’? I said to you “Mom, I’ll be fine, I’m not exactly skinny, am I?” and then you sort of howled – what the hell was that anyway?- and screamed at me “YOU’VE GOT NO CARTALIGE, YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK!”. I really do miss you Ma, even if I am an adult now. I’ll always be your baby boy.

   Next, we’re going to be taking a break from the band. I’ve been teaching boys for three years, I deserve a damn rest. Especially sports. You try teaching a group of young gay boys to play football, it’s horrendous! Seriously. But yeah, you’ll be seeing a lot of us from now on!

  Last one. You’re going to be coming here on the 15th. Don’t worry, I’ve sorted everything, you’ll be arriving at Bristol airport, and Bill will pick you up. You’ll know him when you see him. Don’t worry, just come, okay? Trust me.

         I can’t wait to see you Mama, I really can’t. It’ll be nice to have you in my hair                          I didn’t have it cut, I swear!). I’ll see you soon!

Lots of love,

Gabe x

Brendon’s letter

   Hi Mom and Dad.

                               It’s been a while. How long now, three, four years? Since I told you about Ryan, I haven’t really heard from you very much. In fact, the only thing to prove that you’re even alive is Sasha telling me so.


   I’m going to be honest. I didn’t think it would come to this, but I’m shocked you’ve taken it this far. Sending my little sister to come check up on me, ‘drive me back to the straight and narrow’? I can’t believe you. My choice has been made, it’s my life. You know that I don’t believe in what you believe in, and nor does Sasha. Before you go accusing me of corrupting her, I wouldn’t do that to her, not for the whole world. Even if she was like you, she’s my little sister, and I love her. She’s just like me, and I could not be more proud of her. She’s funny, she’s kind, she loves what she is, and I hope that it’s not too late for her to have decent loving parents. I don’t want to hear any excuses from you. You’ve just dug yourself a hole and thrown away the shovel.

   I’ve been meaning to write to you for a while now, partly for your audacity of what you did, but for some other things. When we finish up in the school, in a few days, I’m going to be staying here. I’m going to be living in Oxford, with Ryan. And Sasha’s going to be with me. I’ve spoken to her, and I have tried to make her go back, I’m not exactly the most responsible adult, but she’s happy, and she’s healthy. She wasn’t happy back in Vegas. So she’s going to be living with me for a while. I want to give her what she wants.

   Don’t be worrying yourselves though. It’s not like she won’t have any female influences or things like that. You remember Sam, she used to go to elementary school with Sash? Well, she’ll be with us too. Seeing as she’ll be finishing school, Sam got into a college placement at Oxford University. A scholarship in English Language. She can attend so long as she writes for them and works at the library there, but she didn’t have anywhere to go. So she’ll be with us. Her mom and dad are cool with it, so don’t even bother with trying to grass me up, and Ray will be nearby, so she’ll be perfectly safe. The two are like sisters, and I think it’ll do Sash good to have her around. She’s family. Also, she is just like Sasha. And I love them both with all of my heart.

   I recently got engaged to Ryan. He proposed to me a few months ago, and we’re planning the wedding now. You’re both invited to the wedding, and I would love to have Dad give me away. I love you both, you’re my parents, and despite all of the shit and turmoil you’ve put me through, I want you both there. Please, if not for me, for Sasha.

   One more thing. I’ve booked a flight to Bristol airport for you, and you’ll be flying here. Will is going to pick you up from there and bring you to the school. You know Will. There’s something that I want you to be here for, and it will make Sasha happy. Please don’t question me, just come. I really want you there. You’ll be flying with Ginger, Spencer’s mom. I think it’s high time you met her.

   I want to make things right between us, but I can’t do that without your help. I’ll be seeing you soon. I love you.

Your son,


Gerard’s letter

   Hey Mom and Dad!

                                  I can’t take very long; I have way too much to start doing. But I need you to listen to me. I need you to catch a plane from JFK on the 15th, and then you’ll arrive at Bristol airport. Will (you know Will) is going to pick you up and bring you to the school. I have something very, very special planned for that day, and I kind of need you to be there. And I want no questions, and I hope I can trust you not to want the answers. What was it a great man once said? ‘There is no better man to walk the Earth than a man who can walk without wanting’? Or was it something I read from one of Ryan’s students… anyway, it’s a good saying, so follow it. I’ll see you guys soon, bye bye!

Love from,

Gee xxo

Life at the Decay Academy (Part Seventeen)

Part Sixteen

   Author’s Ramblings: Alright, boys and girls, time for your 17th instalment of this trip-like world. I would like you all to know that the beautiful mothertruckin has helped me write this chapter, as in, been right by my side, not through computer land. Okay, this time in Decay, we’ve gone a little different. That’s right, first we gave you many different perspectives, then we threw a mystery person into the mix. After that, we gave you two student points of view, who spun our little tale somewhat differently. And now, just to mess with your minds even more, our lovely people will not be speaking to you, or me, or even themselves. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you one half of the archive of Decay letters home…

   P.S. A wedding present to the following people: Sasha, Harley. Harry and Brandon. Together they make Sharlarrydon. (These people are not actually married, just close friends of mine that decided upon this twisted thing. And yes, this is  Sasha we're talking about. Even as you're reading this Sash, you're going to regret it one day when we're famous and I announce this onstage TO. THE. WOOOOOOOOOOOOORLDDDDDDDDDDD!) 

   Authors:  and  

    Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )

   P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st

   Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plotlines.

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

   Frank’s Letter

   Dear the Iero clan,

                                Hey children’s, how’s it hanging in Jersey? I hope you’ve been keeping my seat warm because we’ll all be coming home in a few weeks. Or maybe I could make you all move to England? That could work…

   Anyway, I have a few things that all of you should know before I come back. Nothing to worry about, but trust me, things are gonna be a little different when I see all of your ugly smiling mugs again.

   First of all, Gerard and I are going to be moving in together. So yes Mom, I will finally get my stuff out of the basement and you can use it as your Jose room or whatever crap you like. We’ll be getting a house in Hoboken, it’s huge, and close enough for visits and stuff. So don’t worry your little socks, you can all come around for my excellent Casein cooking.

   Next, once I get back, I’m taking you all on vacation. Pete’s paid us all a metric fuckton of cash, so we’re going to Rome for a month. No one gets out of it, not even the vampires. We’re going. Plus, I’ll be bringing Gee, and some of the guys I’m working with at the moment. Trust me, we’ll have a blast.

   So, things have been crazy for quite a while now. We had a sport’s day thing, and I totally slaughtered Gabe at table tennis (Gabe’s coming with us. Not sure how it happened, but it did…). Oh, two of the guys got engaged around Valentine’s Day, and I have a feeling Brendon’s going to turn into Bridzilla.

   Hopefully I’ll have perfected some sort of vaccine for it then.

   What else… oh yeah, you’re all coming here next week. Don’t ask me why, no questions, but I need you all to be here. If someone could let Jamia know, that would be great too; she’s got a ticket for the plane. I need my best chic friend there. So on the 15th, get yo’ asses to JFK and everything’ll be ready for you. You’ll get to Bristol and I’ll get one of our guys to come pick you up and bring you here. You know Will.

    See you soon, my lovelies! Also, pack for winter. It’s England, mental weather.

                                                                                               Love you all,

                                                                                                                Xoxo frnk

   Sisky’s Letter

   Dear Momma and Pops,

                                         Hi! We’re coming home soon! I can’t wait to get back to Chicago, I’ve missed you all so much. I have so much to tell you. Momma, you’ll be so proud of me.

   I think these three years have done me some good; they’ve helped me grow up a little. I’m still quite nervous facing people sometimes, but I’ve done that onstage for years, I’m used to it. I’ve also made more friends, lots more! This girl, Greta, she’s really awesome, super nice to me. We’ve toured with her, with the band and stuff, but I never really got to talk to her a lot. Now we’re besties (I’ve learnt British!) and I really like her. But she’s getting married soon, so I guess I’ll get over her.

    All of the kids like me, which I’m glad for. I was really nervous with this whole teaching thing, science it tough! Also happy that Pete didn’t do anything to me (don’t worry Momma, Pete’s my friend) for giving the kids higher marks for underlining in colour. All of my students have passed though, which makes me proud. I never thought I’d be able to actually help people become who they want to be, but after a while, I realized that I’ve been doing that all along. It’s all down to you two really; you made me who I am. I love you both.

   One more thing before I go. I need you two to get on a plane and fly Bristol Airport on the 15th, I’ll tell Will to pick you up from there. You know Will. Please don’t ask me why, I want you to trust me. It’s important, and I need you both there.

                                                                                  Love you both so much!

                                                                                                     Your Sissybear xoxx       

   Spencer’s Letter


               I’m still a drummer, in case you were wondering. I’ve been teaching in England for the past three years. Maths, so no need to be worried about my academic abilities. I’m also with Jon, our bassist. I’m gay. Jon’s gay. We’re both gay. Together. Gay.

   You’re flying to England in three days, just to let you know. You’ll arrive – Hello Ginger Smith. My name. Is Pete Wentz. At the moment, Spencer is on the floor. I would like to tell you a few things about Jon. Jon Walker. Spencer’s partner. His boyfriend. His lovvaaa- Sorry Mom. That’s the headmaster. Pete. He’s Pete.

   He’s gay too.

   Anyway, you’ll get to Bristol Airport and - JON HAS A MASSIVE – Pete, stay the fuck out of my letters. I’ll break you.

    Alright Mom, meet Will at Bristol Airport when you arrive. You know Will.



   Part Eighteen

Decay Photo Shoots: Spencer


This is Spencer. You know him, right?

#1 Him

Of course you do. Spencer Smith, is often known as a 'bitch'. This is true, according to the very man himself:

#2 King bitch

See? Anyway, despite his reign as the bitch of the land, he can be caught off guard reading a nice, relaxing book. Don't let him see you watching though. You'll die.

#3 Surprised and reading

Don't get me wrong, he's just like a big old teddy bear really, and he traveled the world with his band, going to new places and making new friends:

#4 Soft side

But like every other teacher at Decay, he's got his serious side. Especially being a maths teacher:

#5 Maths Teacher

Spencer is in a relationship with Jon Walker, and despite Spencer being very, well, a bitch, they get on famously.

#6 Jon

Ain't that cute? Spencer is also a kick-ass drummer, and plays drums for Panic! At The Disco:

#7 Drumming

He also takes his look very seriously, and throughout various stages of his band, his fashion taste has changed too. First there was a Fever fashionista:

#8 Fever Fashion

Then a Pretty. Odd. poser:

#9 Pretty.Odd. Fashion

And finally, a Vices and Virtues extraviganza:

#10 Vices and Virtues fashion

Well, it's all a definite improvement from his and Ryan's baby days:

#11 Baby Pic

But you can't deny that face! No matter how he comes off though, Spencer loves his Decay family, and is always there when someone needs help or support. Kind of like a guru...

#13 Guru Spencer

Life at the Decay Academy (Part Sixteen)


   Part Fifteen

   Author’s Ramblings: Okay chaps, things are getting serious. It’s almost the end, and we need to get stuff sorted out into nice little piles and boxes with fancy ribbons and various other tat. What’s that, oh-so perverted mind of mine? One more fun, not serious instalment? Okay then, just one though. Today, we have some guests in the name of Lil’ Ry and Baby Brenny, it’s about time we heard from a different side of the tracks. So, we see you on July 15th, 10 days before the end of our story, and there’s a stir of excitement between our lovely boys…


   P.S. Dedicated to my wonderful co-author, the inspiration of this chapter, whose birthday was on the 5th, and to make up for getting her a pretty rubbish present, here you go, all for you!


   P.S.S. Anyone (apart from mothertruckin) that spots the Starkid reference will get love from me. And yes, I shamelessly did it to make myself happy, so go deal with it.

   Authors:  conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

   Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )

   P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st

   Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plotlines.

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Baby Bren’s P.O.V.


   Right, we have banners, we have hats and we have the infamous cake, which I watch Gerard and Frank guard with militant attention. Perfect! My party is going exactly to plan!


   “Okay boys,” my men glance up when I call to them, “we have an hour before the party. People are outside the doors, and it’s gonna get loud. I need you guys to keep the hoards quiet for me. I’m going to get Sasha and Ryan in fifteen minutes, so they need to shut the fuck up. You think you can do that for me?” With nods and steely eyes from both of my guards, I walk off to supervise Jon and Sisky preparing the instruments. Man, the guys we’ve got for tonight! One of the great things about our headmaster (one of the only great things) is that he has a lot of money, and lets us spend it how we want, with the right bargaining skills.


   Which turn out to be Patrick anyway, so it makes no odds what we want. We want, we get. Simple.


   ‘Okay,’ I run through my list of things I need to do. There are the streamers, the rest of the stage to set up and give out the hats. Oh, and there’s-


   Two warm hands run around my waist, encircling me into a very familiar embrace. “So, how’s it all running in the head of the party master, hm?” A calm yet seductive whisper (that definitely does not make my spin shudder) enters my ears, and my party monster form melts away into a warm, hyperventilating puddle on the floor.


   I’m an actor; I’m aloud to be melodramatic.


   “It’s going fine, thank you baby. Just a few more things, and then we’ll be ready to rock. Everything okay with your end?” I entrusted my boyfriend (boyfriend!) with rounding up the school without the knowledge of the birthday bunch. “Yeah, it’s all gone as smooth as your lips,” he says, and even through the corner of my eye, I see him smirking. He knows he’s earned himself a kiss.


   “Excellent work honey,” I breathe after the smooch, “now, I’m going to go get them, watch over things for me?”


   “Sure thing, I’ll make sure no one eats the cake.”


   “And you don’t get any either for looking after it.” Before my beloved can get his bitch mode on, I run to the doors, pull them open, scream “IN YOU GO GUYS!” and proceed to get the fuck out of there before I get trampled by the crowd dressed in the themed costumes.


   Oh, this is gonna be good tonight.


Lil’ Ry’s P.O.V.


   Wow, everyone looks so good tonight! It’s like an army of Rocky Horror meets steam punk! The girls look amazing, Lily in her deep purple lace skirt, with a long, ripped black shirt and various badges sewn on. Aimee, scarlet ball gown, Doc Martins, and those black lace gloves? Fantastic. Sam’s dressed in a black knee length lace skirt, burnt red converses, a delicate grey waistcoat and a plain red shirt underneath.


   All of the girls have black eyeliner, and red eye shadow, done by yours truly, but I can see some last minute personal touches. Aimee’s silver flicks, Sam’s unnaturally pale cheeks and Lily’s violet contacts can’t evade my eyes!


   The hall is spectacular, a gothic, Victorian style banquet parlour with a huge space in the middle for dancing. The tables all have blood red cloths and all along the walls are some things we found in the prop room, old art student’s projects, and one very strange coffin thing from Pete’s office.


   My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I grab it to read the words Be ready. It’s time. XxxxxxxxxxxxxxXxxxXxOOOXO on the screen. He couldn’t be serious for forty five minutes, could he?


   “Okay guys, they’re coming in two minutes! You know what you’re doing, right?” Pushing my phone back into my pocket after reading the text, I watch everyone nod with enthusiasm. “And Greta, you good up there?”


   “All set and ready to go!” Greta shouts from the balcony directly above the hall doors, bucket ready.


    I straighten my bowtie, pull down my cap to a suitably jaunty angle. Oh, I see some sexy people! “Jon, lights!” The lights kill, and a hush falls over the crowd for a few seconds before the door opens, five shadows in the light. Show time.


   The spotlight from the balcony lights centre stage, where I am standing, like a steam punk composer. I smile at the four shocked faces I see in the distance, and- damn, they look good!


   Ryan looks like he could have been plucked right out of Victorian London and put into a Gridestore shop, with the tails on the jacket, fire truck pinstripe jeans and black and grey shirt, as well as his golden eyes extenuated by scarlet eyeliner. Spencer in the button up shirt and scarf around the middle, as well as those damn hips in those sunburst black jeans, like a sassy pirate. Sasha in the burgundy skirt and black ripped shirt, and I did not know she could pull off heels, but she somehow manages it. Mikey, black skinnes, chain boots, red ripped waist coat over the prison stripped shirt. Not to mention the dark eyes contrasting against that skin.


   Alright, I know I’m gay, but this just takes the biscuit. Shaking off the fleeting worry, I nod at Greta to kick us off.


   Nodding back, she starts to sprinkle the four with glitter we stole from Gerard. The choir, lead by Gerard and Brendon begin with the backing vocals. I throw my arm up in the air, complete with composing stick (replica Dumbledore wand) to give the piano its cue. I gave the wave, and Patrick strides in, chained top hat and all, with the solo. “I’m just a poor boy!” rings out through the hall, “I need no sympathy!”


   Pointing at the left side of the hall, “Because I’m easy come,” swishing to the right, “easy go,” left for “little high,” and right again for “little low,” before Gerard comes in with a powerful yet still sass riddled “Anyway the wind blows! Doesn’t really matter to me!” and everyone for the final “to me…”


   As the piano continues to play, the awestruck foursome are led forward, greeted by smiles from everyone, reaching the four special chairs at the front of the stage, attended by the three remaining sisters. I wink at Lily, and she smiles back, her eyes sparkling. Billy walks out onto the stage for the verse, and I turn around to conduct the band. The stage lights flare, and the Fearless Vampire Killers are revealed, grinning like… like… well, fearless vampire killers.


   Halfway through the first verse, Billy leaps off the stage, and serenades all four of the birthday guests. Sasha, and Ryan blush furiously, and Spencer keeps his usual cool, showing a little bit of utter fangirl, but Mikey… Mikey seems forced. Well, we’ll get the party rocking! “Gabe!” I shout over the choir, and the second verse of the legend becomes a duet.


   Oh man, this is awesome! We kick arse, we really do. Right, time for the solo! Winking at Laurence, the epicness fills the hall, and even I’m feeling it. This is so cool!


   Just as we finish the first section, I spin around to face the crowd. Time for everyone to join in. I grab the mike from Gabe, and sing the first line of a super mega monster mama-jam. “I see a little silhouetto of a man!”


    “Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?” the choir reply, shocking the birthday bunch.


   “THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTENING, VERY VERY FRIGHTENING, ME!” We shout, and I watch the laughter start to show on even Mikey’s face. Oh, we’re just getting started!


   Brendon and Gerard leap onstage just in time for the next section, grabbing the microphone from me so I’m free to wave my wand. Brendon uses his falsetto powers to reach the notes.










   “GALILEO FIARGO!” They both yell, grinning.


   “Magnifico!” Everyone turns to the balcony, where Pete has taken over the mic for his ‘leading role’ (even though I told him we were all equal in this. He insisted on having a dressing room.) He continues, eyes crazy wide as he jumps. Off. The. 20. Foot. Balcony.


   “I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me,” I can smell the irony. Poor boy my arse. But on we go! The audience cry “he’s just a poor boy from a poor family! Spare him his life from this monstrosity!” Piano, piano, beautiful piano from the fabulous Vicky T, before I pirouette around to Gerard and Brendon who, both holding mics, are ready for the next piece in our magnificent (yet slightly trippy) show. Gerard takes a breath, and I could scream right now! Both men do a little dance move thing as they sing their two words.


   “Easy come,”


   “Easy go,” both turn sharply to the audience, me furiously conducting behind their backs, and grab hands for the next line, “WILL YOU LET ME GO?!” Sounds like a challenge. Audience?


   “Bismillah, NO!” they scream back, everyone so into it, I think a black hole may be created. We forge on with “We will not let you go!” and the duo onstage shout gleefully “Let him go!”


   “Bismillah, NO! We will not let you go!”


   “Let him go!”


   “Bismillah, NO! We will not let you go!”


   “Let me go!”  Fuck my life, this is tiring! Carry on, come on kid, keep going for them! Turning to the audience, pushing through Gerard and Bren, I point to the left side of the hall, who know their job. “Will not let you go” rings out, and I leap to the right side of the stage where the other half are singing “Let me go!” And back…


   “Never let you go!”


   “Let me go!”


   “Never let you go,” and everyone joins in at the “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” before screaming “No no no no no no no!” I sneak a look at the four in their chairs, to see Spencer holding Aimee’s hand beaming, and the other two girls being suffocated by Sasha. Fun times.


   Putting my arms around Bren and Gee, we all chime “Oh mama mia, mama mia,” and receive the roar of the crowd’s “Mama mia let me go!” Fitting in perfect time, Frank appears at the balcony, singing like some choir angel version of Marilyn Manson “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,” the choir joining the second “for me,” and everyone with “for MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”


   BOOM, moshing ensues, and Kier Kemp shreds the legendary solo, filling everyone with more magic than anything could ever bring. I ninja jump off the stage and grab Sasha and Mikey, pulling them onto the stage for some audience participation. I feel we need a more enthusiastic crowd… can’t believe I thought that with a straight face. In the seven seconds of the solo, all four birthday people are onstage, just enough time for me to scream “SING!” at Ryan before it’s time. Ryan begins with a purely epic, happy, confused “So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye!”


   I move to Spencer, bitch glint in his eyes singing into the mic “So you think you can love me and leave me to die!” complete with sassy eyebrow cock, of course. Sasha belts out a powerful “OHHHHHHH, baby! Can’t do this to me babeh!” like an absolute pro, and Mikey finishes with a seemingly happy “Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here.” Whilst more epic guitarness happens, and more moshing, I look at Mikey. Did he actually mean it; he ‘just wants to get right out of here’? Catching his eye, his dazzling smile falters and I can just see his head shake, saying this is not the time.


   I’m gonna have to talk to Gerard about this. I don’t want this to be a night he wants to forget. Come on sweetie, the little voice inside my head whispers, the show must go on. Okay, let’s kill this!


   As the guitar reaches a crescendo, the lights dim, filled with the glow from the lighters Pete has somehow smuggled everyone. (“Oh no, I threw them all out, I promise, no more are left!” Yeah, no more my arse…) A cheer of “Oo, yeah, ooo yeah,” echoes around, and as it comes to a close, the spotlight reappears, focusing on me and my baby, the birthday gang, Gerard, Brendon, Patrick and Pete, standing like a chorus line. I’m in the middle, and holding the last remaining microphone. Mikey looks like he could cry, but not just out of whatever has been troubling him, happiness too. I don’t think he’s been this happy for a while. Gerard glances at him, and places a kiss on his forehead.


   I feel so flooded with emotions, I almost miss the cue to sing. “Nothing really matters,” and Patrick takes over with “anyone can see,” adding a trademark flourish to his last note. We all gather round to be able to sing into the mic, holding each other like a true, loving family. “Nothing really matters.” We circle the four birthday bunch in a hug, getting ready for some crying to start happening. Singing “Nothing really matters…”, we back into the shadows, leaving Ryan holding the mic and all knowing what to do. Sasha tightens her hand around Mikey’s as they harmonise perfectly “to me…”


   Everything except the instruments fall silent, and I know that everyone has tears in their eyes, because damn it, I do. With the last final, unifying seconds of magic, everyone grabs a hand to hold and sings “Anyway the wind blows…”, and Pete finishes it off with a gong that he made appear.


   Well, that made somewhat of a shaking, crying emotional wreck of us all. Everyone and I mean everyone is sobbing; there is just so much love in the room for each other. I really don’t want to say goodbye to this when we all leave this place for good. We’re probably going to be in a heap in the corridor, weeping.


   Taking a moment, too aghast from what just happened, I watch little scenes of love happening in the same room. How can so many different species of love be happening in the same place?


   Mikey and Gerard are hugging tightly, like they’ll never letting go, joined by the rest of their sobbing band. Sasha is in a fit of laughing and tackles Aimee and Lily to the floor, a friendship so strong they don’t need blood to be sisters. Speaking of sisters, where’s- oh, I see her! Sam is wrapped tightly in the arms of a tall (and if I may say, handsome) boy, sharing a chaste kiss with him… whoa, I didn’t know Brian Rosenthal was our age!


   I witness brotherly love, sister love, the friendship shared between a band. They’re old relationships, new ones, and it’s just absolutely mental how much a group of people can care about each other so much. I feel fresh tears fall on my face, and I run to find the person who made all of this happen, and I crash into him. He catches me in his arms, and I can happily stay here for the rest of my life. Instead, I place my lips on the side of his neck, and mumble “I love you. You brought me a family.”


   Laughing softly, he nuzzles into my shoulder.


   “I love you too. Now, the Vampire Killers are going to play Fetish for the Finite, let’s dance.”  


* * * * * *


   “Speech! Speech!” Everyone is cheering for the four to make a speech. Through the mouthfuls of Candle Salad and Skittle cake (Ray made it work), the four head up to the stage, and blush. Seeing as she’s youngest, Sasha gets pushed forward first. Giving death eyes that even Spencer looks a little scared at, she makes a start.


   “Wow, this is certainly a shock. I mean, you are all mega fabulouso, but I just did not expect that you guys would be so good to us that you would make all this,” she flails, gesturing to the gothic décor of the venue. “I just want to thank the most amazing family I’ve ever had, you’re all in my heart forever, and I know it’s nearly time for us to leave, but I will never let you leave me. Thank you so much, you awesome motherfuckers!” Like a god she raises her arms, and gains applause. She’s about to walk off but runs back, grabbing the mic from Spencer and says “also, Ray, A-MAZ-ING cake!” Ray, at the back of the hall, receives woops from all angles.


   Spencer just says a quick and simple “You rule, thank you so much!” before running to join Sasha, who we all see pull him into a hug and watch his emotion unravel. Ryan takes up the microphone, attempting to make a song and dance out of it, but just starts crying again (I feel my baby beside me beam. This is all his doing, that emotion) and screaming “I love you all so much!”, pouncing and combat rolling to the embrace at the side of the stage.


    Mikey picks the mic up from the floor, goes to say something, but stops. Wait, what’s he doing? With bated breath we wait, and finally we hear an echo of “-all amazing, I love you.” He runs to join the others, and the band takes it as a cue to play Don’t stop me now, calling everyone to the dance floor.


   Okay, if I’m going to talk to Gerard, it’s going to be now.


   Almost crashing into Sam and Rosenthal, I try to catch Gee before he leaves, arms around Frank’s shoulders.


   “Hey, Gee!”

Part Seventeen

Life at the Decay Academy (Part Fifteen)

   Part Fourteen

   Author's Ramblings: Yes, I am a terrible updater. But it's here now! It's not long, and it's not the best, but it's here, and in true Decay fashion, it's a little bit mental. Seeing as the Olympics have just ended, I thought it would be fitting to have a Sport's Day themed entry. But remember, at the Decay Academy, nothing is as it seems at first. Enjoy, my darlings! Comments are lovely :)

   P.S. Dedicated to a group of lovely people who we will both be soon reunited with, and I've just recently realised how much I've missed them. It's so important to keep the people you love close, don't forget that darlings :) Barri houseplays, I'm coming to get you!

   Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

   Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (some student pairings, and a surprise along the way ;) )

   P.O.V. Switches throughout, 1st

   Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing but the arrangement of words and plot lines.

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like the kids, the boys somehow have music included in EVERY lesson, and some teachers have been hiding a few secrets...

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Jon’s P.O.V.

   “Alright boys, now this is serious business.” Lil’ Ry and Jam Jam are looking intense as fuck into each other’s eyes, like Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader. Harry Potter and Voldemort. Spencer and Gerard when they fight over the last of the eyeliner.

   Placing the camera back on the tripod in front of the battlefield (table from Ryan’s English room), I turn to the anxiously awaiting crowd, ready for the fight of the century. There is so much tension on the field, Ray could gather it up and fucking serve it for lunch. The boys sit, awaiting my say-so. “Three,” I whisper, adjusting my totally not fake moustache, “two… one… FIGHT!”

   Faces explode and I hear the cry from both warriors, signalling the beginning of this epic battle.

   “ONETWOTHREEFOUR IDECLAREATHUMBWAR!” Screams from the audience ring around the sports pitch of the academy, banners that Gerard and his classes made for the ‘sports’ day blow in the wind, and all eyes are on the two locked right hands of Mini Ryro and Jam Jam, thumbs battling it out for all time glory and the acoustic guitar prize.

   After a Godzilla shaming screech, Baby Ryan holds on to Jam Jam’s thumb and cries “ONE TWO THREE FOUR, I JUST WON THE THUMB WAR…” he stutters, the crowd pauses with baited breath, before mustering all of his homosexual strength and screaming “BITCH!”, slamming the defeated boy’s fist onto the table in style and rising a champion. Before I get a chance to hand him the guitar (complete with Nirvana strap and everything), he’s tackled, and without even looking, we all know it’s Baby Bren.

   Typical gay boys….

   But I can’t really say much.


Gerard’s P.O.V.

   Paint is fucking everywhere. Seriously, it’s all over the grass, on the kids, on me. Pretty sure some of it is on the soles of my feet but fuck knows how. Ah well, this paint war is fun! I duck, saving my self from a bomb of cerulean in the face, and run for cover behind what seems to be a smurfed up Sisky.

   “You okay, Siska?”

   “Yeah, I’m good man. You want to trade?”

   Considering my options, and checking to see which little bags of paint I have left, I agree. “Sure, what have you got?”

   “Let me see, I have aubergine, gold, scarlet and black. Oh, and I got a can of silver left, if you want it.” Ohmygod ohmygod OHmyGOD! Silver and black? Fuck to the yes. “Sisky, I will trade you all of my greens and my reds plus my mask, if I can have the silver and black. Please please please please please?!” I tear the mask off my face and thrust (okay, even I’m not mature enough to hold back a snigger) it into his hands, making my eyes go all puppy on his ass. Do I still have the charm...?

   “Hm…. ‘Kay, you can have them. And you can keep your mask; I’ll steal one of Ross’ scarves.”

   Ten points to Gerard.


   Bob’s P.O.V.

   BANG! I hit the deck as some guy (Gabe?) in a fake sumo suit charges at me. Avoiding his launch, he ‘flies’ above me like Superman after a McDonald’s diet. “FUCK YOU, BRYAR!” The tiny warrior shrieks as he face plants the grass, and I make a break for the trees, cackling.

   Cackling like a man. A man.

   When I hit the trees, I can’t stop myself from doubling over onto the ground. Gabe, a gay man, in a sumo suit, in the mud, his hair messed up. That’s just fucking hilarious. I mean, how many times-

   “N’YAAAAAAA!” What the fuck? Like a ninja, I turn around and get smashed in the face by what I’m pretty sure is Brendon’s best feather cushion. And, before I can react, I’m on the floor.

   “Avada Kadavra, Bryar!” Sam screams at me, and I see her, in full make-shift combat uniform, surrounded by the three other sisters, armed with pillows, highlighters and spray cans.

   What, what the, but... 



Pete’s P.O.V.


   In rabbit ears.

   Hopping in a sack.


   No Pete, he won’t let you… no.

   But maybe…


   Oh my.

   Mr Wentz, you devilish, handsome bastard.

Part Sixteen

Part Thirteen

   Author's Ramblings: Okay, I'll keep it short. I wanted to do a talent show one, so hear it is. See, short. If you want to know about any of the talents from students or teachers, I'm posting a page about them soon. For now though, enjoy!

   P.S. Dedicated to a new friend who I saw today, and he was rather lonely, so this is for him. Damnit Jennifer!

   Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (students, unsure of any others)

   P.O.V: Switches throughout, 1st.

   Disclaimer: No characters are owned by us, not ours blah blah blah... (I wish)

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like kids, the boys learn about music in EVERY lesson, and some of the teachers have also been hiding a few secrets...

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Ryan’s P.O.V.

   “…Jam Jam! Put the iron down now before I get Pete and cover you in Ray’s Candle Salad!” Jesus Brian Christ, what is wrong with that child and hot metal? I mean, if he’s so into it I could get him branded. Yeah, it’d be like a tattoo but with fucking burning iron! I slump in my chair and rest my head in my arms. Monday morning’s are not good for this textile shit, and with a hangover from Pete’s party? No. I don’t even think I drank anything but lemonade! What does Pete put in that crap? Probably illegal. I swear, I’m going to kill Pete if he’s turned Sisky into a drug runner. People these days.

   Glancing up at the computer screen (“It burns, it BURNS!”), I groan again, pretty much giving up on life before, say, next week? Urgh…

   “Ryan!” Say wha’? Spidey sense tingling, I scan my sewing room for the mystery voice calling me. Before I get a chance to see, I feel a piece of paper hit me in the back of my head. Dude, the hair? I pick it up, and read the crumpled note. ‘Turn around, Mr Ross.’

   Oh shit, I feel like I’m in a horror movie. Turning around to face the potential psychopath in my classroom, I’m desperately attempting to remember any piece of marshal arts I’ve seen in movies. Jackie Chan, don’t fail me now…

   Oh, it’s only Brendon. How did I not recognise the hearted ‘o’?  Fool.

   Although he’s crouching on a table like and owl and he has his skittle eyes on (dangerous for the kids), my fiancé is looking as beautiful as ever, tight jeans, pouting lips and all. And I think I may just need to take my place at his side? Legs?

   They seem to be moving in his general direction. Fancy that.

   “Hey baby.” I mumble through our crushed lips. “What’s up with the surprise visit? Did you bring me more Skittles?” Please, God no. I love the man, but I may actually die from Skittle poisoning. Apparently, my sweat tastes like the rainbow.

   “Oh, no, no Skittles.” His puppy eyes are momentary, before the squeal that usually precedes good news. “Yes! I have things to tell you!” I have to dodge the flailing arms that were holding me on Brendon’s lap, and I clutch his chest for support (thank the lord for long fingers). “Go on Brenny, what’s going on?”

   “Well, firstly I need help designing some outfits soon. And,” he exclaims, placing a finger over my lips, “it’s a surprise, so you’ll have to wait until we’re in here. Oh, and I need to measure you. All of you.”… That should be fun.

   He’s such a mysterious fucker sometimes (that I love). “Okay, well I’ll see what I can do. Anything else?” Strange. This year has been more eventful than before. I think Pete may have slipped crack into our food. Or more than before, if we were doped up the past three years.

   It would explain the missing week, and the time I woke up in the middle of a Beatles tribute.

     “Yeah, more! Firstly,” Brendon holds up one finger in my face just to punctuate his clear enthusiasm. “First, Gabe and Bilvy are putting on a talent show! Tonight! And we get to do things on stage!” Oh my God, I think Pete has finally gone… well, now that I think about it, I’m not actually surprised. Probably be holding a Jedi Sunday mass next or some shit.

   “A talent show? Really?”

   “YEAH!” More flailing. “And we have to do it, because Gabe will actually rape us if we don’t. And you know the Suporta scares me.” Brendon shudders, hopefully not from remembering an experience. Gah…

   Anyway. “Okay, so what are you planning to do, Angel face?” I can usually get him to use my ideas when I call him that. Makes his knees go weak. Oh…

   “Well, I did have an idea, but we’ll go with whatever you like.” Purr in the voice? Nose in shoulder blade? Fingers a-roaming? He’s mine… evil genius over here. I nuzzle, just to further prove my point. “How about… Aha!” Oh my Jesus Christ, yes!

   We are SO doing this shit tonight. Fucking hell, we’re gonna blow their freaking minds.

   “Brenny?” Please still have it, please still have it.

   “Yeah Ryro?”

   “Do you still have that pink satin shirt with the dragons on it?”

Pete’s P.O.V.

   Fucking hell… what is Ryan doing with that shirt on?

Gerard’s P.O.V.

   Franks hand is a little clammy as we sit in the school hall, waiting for ‘Bill and Gabe’s Talent Extravaganza’ to actually start. I don’t really know why, we’ve played Reading before, and that’s bigger than this. Plus, we’re not even playing. But I turn to him and smile, and the confident, happy Frankie I’m in love with returns. We both return our eyes to the awaiting, glittering stage, covered in what I’m sure is Ryan’s best shiny fabric (I’m a gay man, and even I think this is extremely Gay Flower. He’s not here is he?).

   Bam, darkness falls on the filled hall, and Bohemian Rhapsody blasts from the speakers on the ceiling. I can kind of make out a silhouette of Billy’s hair from the strobe that’s magically appeared. Drama queens. After about ten seconds, the spotlight lights up the two men centre stage, flamboyant and pinked up.

   “Welcome to the show!” Gabe screams into his microphone, gaining a cheer from everyone in the room. I think it’s his lipstick that did it. “Alright then!” Bill goes on. “As you’ve probably noticed, this is our talent show! And we’ve given everyone the chance to show off in front of their friends more than often, except just on a stage and with music and stuff. Anyway,” he flaunts over to a smaller curtain, covering something up, and turns towards us, grinning. “We’ve got some special guest judges, and you may just recognise them.”

   Big surprise Bill, I saw you and Gabe attempting to smuggle them in this morning.

   Gabe puts in, holding the other side of the purple fabric, “And since we’re better than all of those crappy reality TV shows, we have…” Dramatic pause fails “FIVE judges!” A totally real, not acted gasp from us seems to please them, and on they go, with gusto.

   “Our first judge, singer, father, once branded a man with a plastic poker… BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG!” Part of the curtain is pulled back to reveal Green Day’s smirking front man. The kids go mental (as do most of the teachers), and I wave casually, but let’s face it, who waves casually to Billie? He waves back, jumps on the table and bows, uproar assuring.

   Once they’ve got him sat down again, Gabe flicks his hair and introduces the next ‘surprise’ judge. “Next! The younger generation, unlike most of us, and has willingly been dragged here from his home. Please, welcome Mr. Alex. GASGARTH!” Screams, screams that should not be possible of any male apart from Brendon, fills the hall, and I’m now pretty sure that about eighty percent of the boys in this school have no testicles. Alex just smiles, remaining calm at the might of the terrifying fan boys. And they are much scarier than fan girls. To a gay man, anyway.

   I shudder involuntarily. Frankie, sensing my pain, squeezes my hand tight. Fan boys…

   After the fan boys shut the fuck up, I look at Mikey next to me. “Whatcha’ doing for the show, Mikes?” His poker face falters, his lips twitching. “Fuck off, I’m not telling.” Uh, unfair.


   “Shut it. You’ll see.”

   I hate my brother sometimes. Huh…

   “Okay!” Bill shouts “Next, our only beautiful lady judge of the evening!” Calamity from the kids. Silence from the teachers. Apart from Greta, but she’s cheered everyone, bless her. “Yeah, it’s Hayley Williams!” Hayley gets a standing ovation from us all, because we love her, but I may also want her hair dye. That fiery blaze…

   At this point, I think Gabe may just want to get on with the show, and pulls back the curtain to reveal Beirsack and fucking hell, Dave Grohl! We clap, and my hands now hurt, and Bill tells us all to shut up. “Okay, I’m going to go over what’s going to happen, and then we’ll get the hell on with it. Firstly, we have fourteen student acts,                 including the four sisters!” Cheers from the boys, four of who I notice blushing proudly. There shall be some explaining to do very soon, me thinks... “So, we will have one round, the final seven, and then the winner gets…” He gestures for Gabe to reveal an envelope (covered in my best glitter paste), “this mystery prize!” The kids are a typical audience, and Bill bathes in the glow of the ‘Ohhh!’ he gets. Eye roll from me. “Yes, yes, very exciting. The prize will be presented by our own Pete Wentz, and then for the teachers round!”

   Gabe jumps on the table (for no apparent reason) snatching the mic like a child from his unimpressed boyfriend. “All teachers, me and Will aside, had to enter, and they know what would happen if the didn’t.” He brandishes a whip, which I’m pretty sure belongs to Pete, and makes the air crack, with a following silence. Evil fucker. He smirks, the cocky shit. “Yeah, they know. Anyway, seeing as all of our teachers are in bands, they are not allowed to perform as themselves, and have to do something different. Also, as I have heard, many of our teacher contestants have decided upon the same acts, unoriginal fuckers, but I have been told that they will be good fun to watch. I believe that we have one singer and one magic act, and the rest are all to be revealed. So, without further ado, may we present the first of our student acts, Aimee Smith, with a drum cover of Guns N’ Roses Paradise City!” The two monkies leave, and we all smile at the sight of the younger Smith sitting at a cherry red drum kit.

   And let the night begin.

* * * * * * * * * *

   Sam takes a bow, and holds her beautiful guitar in the air, and we’re going crazy, pretty much like every act tonight. Man, my hands are going to be raw by the morning. And we’ve not even performed yet!

   She walks off, smiling and waving to the boys (one in particular). Will bounces on, looking like candy floss. “Sam with Under Pressure! Okay, thank you Sam. Next, we have Miss Lily Iero, reading her own poem… oh, with a twist!” He struts off, and Frank sweats pride at his little sister shuffling onto the stage, playing with the bracelets on her wrist. Who wouldn’t be proud of that? Absolutely beautiful. All of the girls, each different, but beautiful. Lily, small but pale skinned and the sweetest smile, despite her Italian background. Sasha, cheerful, her face lights the room. Aimee, a face that makes you smile no matter what, even if she’s trying to scare the shit out you. Sam, piercing eyes and wide smile, maternal even thought she’s just a kid.

   All, beautiful.

* * * * * * * * * *

   “Right, we have the final results here! Our judges have voted, and we’re ready to give out the prize.” Gabe swings his legs off the edge of the judge’s table, and Pete steps forward with the envelope in his hands. Will speaks into his mic, high as a kite. “Let’s remind ourselves of our finalists! First, we had Aimee and her drums!” Cheer. “Mr Shadow Guy and his remix of Teen Spirit!” A blonde boy steps forward, and a group of his friends scream his name. I smile, glad that he has friends in high school. “Sasha singing Hey Jude! Lily with her poem!” More screams, and damn it, from us this time. “Sam and her Under Pressure cover! Jam Jam and his stand up! And finally, Lil’ Ry and Mini Bren” I hear someone shout ‘We have real names too!’, but they are dismissed “With their Grease mash up!” We all cheer for that, because you do not go to a talent show and not cheer for Grease. And when it’s two gay boys singing? Yes.

   We settle, and Pete holds the envelope out. “The winner is… Sasha with Hey Jude!” Brendon almost faints with glee when his sister blushes and walks to get her prize, stopping to hug every one of her friends along the way. We all start the chorus of Hey Jude, and Sasha laughs. I’m glad she won, although I secretly had a soft spot for Lily. She’s going to be my sister in law one day, I had to. But hey.

   The kids go backstage, and the intermission starts.

   Time to get ready.

Spencer’s P.O.V.

   The darkness falls again, and from the side of the stage, we watch Gabe scream “Welcome Brendon and Ryan with their Charlton!” This should certainly be something to watch. I feel Jon’s hand creep up my spine, and we share a moment. The music flares, and we watch our two best friends do something that I will never forget for, oh, the rest of my life?

   …Is that Brendon dressed as a sailor girl?

* * * * * * *

   “Give it up for Jon and Spencer’s Viennese Waltz!” Easiest performance of my life.

* * * * * * *

   Oh my God. What did- What just happened? I am the bitch of the school, but this has gone and broke me.

   Mikey Way walks off the stage, a stunned audience silent for a spilt second before breaking into a sobbed applause. We’re all in tears, this is remarkable. How did he do that? Well, I mean, his brother, but still. I look at Jon, and we’re both utterly shocked and confused.

   Who knew he could sing like that?

   And who was that song for?

* * * * * * *

   “Okay, thank you Frank and Gerard for your Paso Doble! Next up, Bob and Vicky T with… Levitating 101!”

* * * * * * *

   It’s done. Over, we don’t have to dance again. I guess I’m sad, but I can make Jon dance anytime I like. Oh yes…

   “And now, the winner of the teacher’s round is…” Pete holds his hands up, shaking them about to create a tense atmosphere (he looks like a dickhead). He stops, walks along our line of tired teachers who need to work in the morning, and points to the end of the row. I don’t need to look to know who he’s pointed at.


   I have a feeling this is the start of something huge. And this isn’t the last of it.

Mikey’s P.O.V.

   Taking the envelope from Pete, I smile, but only I know it’s not whole hearted. I look to my left, down, down the line until I look away.

   Holding my prize, I turn to the kids, our kids, and think the only thought that’s actually wanted to make sense, but won’t now. It’s too late.

   I wrote it for you.

??????’s P.O.V.

   I tense up as Mikey looks down, and I try to catch his eyes. But no. He looks down, and so do I, I think. I can’t get his beautiful, pure image from my mind, can’t shake it.

   I don’t want to shake it.


Part Fifteen


   Author's Ramblings: Well, not really the author on this one. mothertruckin wrote this all by herself (I'm so proud!) and I just went through some spelling and things that are annoying and time consuming. So, credit to her, and I'm just the beta for this one :) This is the first of our side stories, and it's being posted in the middle because it doesn't really serve a huge purpose to the storyline. The rest, ones that are named now and others I decide to post, are going to be done after Decay has finished. If you are still reading Decay, read this, then finish Decay before reading the other sides, as they WILL give away spoilers. So, all that's left to say is enjoy, and thank whoever you pray to that we have twisted minds :)

   P.S. Althought she has not said so herself, I'm sure that we're going to dedicated this to our sick friend Miss Pickles. Get well soon! Pete will take care of you :)

   Authors: mothertruckin and (beta) conversekilljoy

   Pairings: Peterick

   Disclaimer: Not real, we own nothing.

   Summary: The famous trombone incident has come to life...

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    "Hey, baby?" Patrick purred against my neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin below my jaw. That fucker, he knows what that does to me! Oh god....I’m so turned on ri-... Oh, oh...so that’s what he wants....

    "Yeah, Patty cake?" I whisper as I roll over so that my body is plastered to his side and nibble on his ear lobe. Yeah, I’m playing dirty.

    "You know what we haven’t done in a while?" He scoots closer and then moves to straddle me in some kind of ninja sneak attack. Boo, he's stealing my thing! I open my mouth to reply, but Patrick has his mouth on mine before any sound can escape, our teeth clash and our noses bump, but that’s damn fine with me because there's a horny Patrick in my lap. Who says no to that? For once I let him control the kiss, just taking what he's willing to give. Which a fucking lot apparently.

    I spread my legs further apart to give him easier access to my dick. Which he isn't touching....why is this? I arch my hips off the bed to try and get some friction or you know, A Patrick on my dick? He doesn’t get it and seems content on just destroying my face. I’m totally gonna throw a pout at him for this. Damn it! I can't. My mouth is otherwise engaged.

    I finally get our shirts and jeans off and Patrick beneath me and just as I’m about to lower my body to his I remember that I was meant to show him that thing I’m practicing, Shit! I promised Sisky I’d show him tomorrow, but if I’m not good enough then he'll think I’m a big liar. Which I am because I told him I was a professional. But whatever!

   "'Trick, wait, wait...I have to show you something!" Before Patrick can answer I’m running out of our room and out of the door shouting at Patrick to follow me.

    "But we don't have our clothes on!" he protests.

    "Sure we do!" I reply cheerily, breaking into a gallop. Oh I love a good gallop, reminds me of when I was a kid....

    "Pete. How many times? Boxers do not count as socially appropriate clothes!"

    "I’m allowed! It's my school anyway, so there!" I may or may not have just blown a raspberry.

    "...Yes. Exactly. This is your school." I tilt my head in confusion. Didn't I just say that?

    Patrick huffs, "School. Where there are children."...I tilt my head again. What is he trying to say? Maybe if I squint a little...

    "Oh my God Pete! You can't run around a school practically naked. That’s bad, you get that? Against the law. Sexual harassment. Paedophilia." Oh! My eyes light up in recognition of the familiar words. I nod quickly and grab Patrick’s hand, if we run, nobody will see us.

    I do have logic.


    Patrick sits on a desk swinging his legs back and forth as I rummage in his closet muttering to myself, "Where is it...I had it just yesterday...Oh! Got it!" I re-emerge into the room brandishing a shiny trombone, grinning happily, 'Trick's totally gonna love this....

    "What are you doing?" he asks slowly, eyes wide. See. He can't wait!

     I hold the instrument up to my lips and take a few steps closer to Patrick so he can hear properly and get the full musical effect.

     I take a loud, deep breath and blow as loud as I can, my eyes scrunching up, cheeks puffing up and face turning red with strain and start to move the slide-y thing back and forth because I discovered that it makes the pitch change. I change to a faster tempo, bobbing up and down with the rhythm. I can see Patrick's mouth moving. It looks like he's shouting...but I can’t hear him over my beautiful music. I think he's trying to tell me something...'Stop', 'please', 'my ears'? What? Oh, he said my name! He must be saying 'Don't stop, please, the music you are making with that trombone is the most beautiful I have ever heard. This is why I married you Pete! Your so handsome and caring and an amazing fuck and now this too? I’m so lucky!'

    Or something along those lines......

    Patrick slams his hands over his ears, grimacing. Oh he must need a break from all this talent. I have that effect on a lot of people.

    I lower the trombone, grinning wildly at Patrick "Do you think I’m good enough to convince Sisky that I’m a professional trombonist?" Patrick drops his hands back to his sides and stares at me disbelievingly "I know," I continue "I can't believe that he thinks I’m lying either, I’m clearly some kind of trombone magician! Oh! look look look! I can dance and play too!" I’m vaguely aware of 'Trick waving his hand frantically at me and shaking his head, but I’m too busy being full of amazing skill as I shake my hips to the beat I’m creating.

    At some point I get too in to it and let go of the slide-y thingy and blow out one long note and I use the opportunity to wave my arms around frantically. Oh my god I should totally shimmy! I shimmy back and then toward Patrick. I am totally seducing him right now. I shimmy too hard though and the trombone goes flying out of my hand and smashes Patrick in the head. He slumps off the desk and falls to the floor

    "Patrick! Why would you all asleep when I’m dancing for you! I’m damn sexy!" He doesn't reply. That bastard! I huff and haul Patrick to his feet and place him back in the desk. I'll just play some happy songs to wake him up in a happy mood! But he keeps falling back off the desk. Aw, he's so cute, he can't hold himself up, that’s so cute! He's still a bastard though.

     I go through Patrick’s desk draws to find the duck tape I know he keeps in there to hold the tables together because some students like to use them as battering rams when a teacher isn't in the room. My 'Trick wouldn't stand for such behaviour and solved the problem soon enough. I pull out the tape and put on my wrist like a bracelet and skip over to my little sleeping Patty cake (still a bastard) and hoist him up onto the desk again, if I lay him on his back he'll be more comfortable when he wakes up to the sounds of high quality trombone playing. Just so he doesn't fall and hurt himself I use the tape to secure his wrists and feet to the desk, leaving his legs raised and apart because I like the view.

    I play a few tunes I made up myself, but he still won't wake up and I’m horny God damn it! I walk towards him, but I can't be bothered to put the trombone away so I just prod his stomach with that instead of my finger, "Wakey wakey Patty cake!" No reply. I prod his knee instead. No reply. I huff. I prod his ass cheek

    "Baby, time to wake up Patrick...sweetheart...c'mon Patty cake, time to go do the nasty...." I think I see two shadows by the door, but when I look over I only see what looks like someone being pulled away and I’m sure I can hear panicked whispers of "What the fuck was he doing!? Oh my God! should we help Patrick!?" But I can't see any one now.

     Oh well.

    I look back to the desk and my eyes are met with Patrick's blue ones, Wow, he's a lucky guy. Waking up to me, over him, grinning hugely and showing all my teeth, eyes wide and caring (though Bill said I look creepy when I try to look caring, but whatever) He smiles dreamily "Hey baby I-" His eyes find the trombone and he tries to sit up but he's still safely taped to the desk. He tugs at the restraints and his eyes go wide when he realises exactly where the trombone is positioned. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" Before I can open my mouth to reply, he's sleeping again.

   Poor thing. Maybe he should take a few days off work, he's probably getting sick. I'll take care of him.

  Part 2

    (Not) Author's Ramblings: So, sorry I missed last week, for anyone who's reading this as it comes. I have ben swamped, but I will try as hard as I can to get regular updates. Anyways, post comments if you read please, or message me, I will pass on any replies to my fabulous friend who is in fact producing this wonderful story. Enjoy people, and COMMENTS ARE LOVE!!

   "Just don't fall for it, please because I love you!" Mikey said embracing me into a tight hug.

   "Wait, what?!" I shouted pushing him away sort of.

   "I've put up with you telling me how much you love Frank and I wanted to say that I love you, Frank loves you too that's what he told me and I need to tell you how I feel about you. I love you, you're an amazing girl and the most down to earth person I have ever met and we were best friends since the first concert we ever went to and from that moment on I loved you, we were 13 now we're 17. Do you know how hard it's been for me, I love you" He said all basically in one breath, I honestly had no clue what to say.

   "Mikey, I love you too and did for a while but not anymore, if you told me a while ago I would say yes but I love Frank, a lot I'm so sorry. I sound like a bitch don't I?" I said almost breaking down into tears, but Mikey hugged me tightly.

   "You don't, I know you love Frank and trust me you guys would be great together and you don't sound like a bitch you're doing what most girls don't do. You're telling the truth." He said wiping away some tears on my cheek.

"Thank you Mikey, I love you for always being here for me and nothing will change in my perspective because you will always be my best friend." I said hugging him back, he was my best friend but I felt horrible for what I had just done.

   "Okay, I better let you get to English" He said pulling away.

   "Yeah, Mr. Keith will go crazy at me" I said laughing a little.

   "Yeah, on you go" He said as I walked away, he really was an amazing guy but I loved Frank, I hated myself for what I just done.

   I finally got to English to find no teacher just all the students, luckily.

   "Where the fuck have you been?" Sam asked as I took my seat beside her.

   "Long story." I said waving my hand at her, I really didn't feel like telling her.

   "Dawn, have you been crying?" She asked looking at my red rimmed eyes.

   "Yeah, but just leave it." I said wiping away yet again another tear.

   "No you will tell me, I want to help." She said obviously not backing down as per usual.

   "Mikey told me he loved me, I feel horrible because I told him that I loved Frank and he is an amazing guy and I did like him for a while about a year ago but he never said anything so I gave up and then we met Frank and I loved him." I said and Sam's face dropped.

   "Oh my god, he likes you?" She said sounding surprised.

   "Listen you can't tell anyone and if you do I will never talk to you again" I said sternly because sometimes she would just say everything that was on her mouth to Ray or someone like that.

   "Okay, I pinky promise." She said putting out her pinky and I shook her pinky with mine, if she broke this I would kill her.
We just sat and talked, she mainly talked about Ray but honestly I didn't mind, I would if I had Frank.

    The bell went for break, thank god!

   Me and Sam made our way outside to the music department doors were we always stood with everyone. Me and Sam were the last there, she went over to Ray straight away and as soon as I got there everything went quiet until Frank broke the silence.

   "Oh here's your music Jotter back." Frank said handing me my Jotter back.

   "Thanks." I said and took my backpack off and put it in. Mikey's eyes looked really red but Franks were full of happiness and some fear, tonight would be a night to remember not because it was a Fall Out Boy concert but what was going to happen at that concert.

   "So how's life?" Gerard asked breaking the awkward silence.

   "Good, looking forward to tonight." Frank said.

   "Yeah same here." I agreed.

   "Well let's get in the mood." Gerard said taking my iPod out of my pocket and taking my earphones out blasting 'This Ain't A Scene'. We all jumped around and sang to it, Gerard sang the loudest, me and Mikey danced together and Frank was pretending he was playing guitar, I wish it was always like this an there was no drama.

   Frank ran into me almost making me fall but he managed to to catch me and pull me to my feet. It felt just right, he was holding my arms staring into my eyes and I was staring into his but we were interrupted by Ray jumping on top of Bob and Bob falling flat on his face.

   "Oh my god are you okay?" Gerard asked running over to find Bobs lip and nose burst. Me and Frank pulled away instantly and ran over with Mikey to see if he was okay.

   "Yeah guys I'm fine." Bob said getting on his feet.

   "No I'm taking you to the nurses office." Gerard said

   "Yeah I'm coming too." Mikey said helping Gerard to take Bob to the nurses office.

   "Well I'm going to study graphics for the next five minutes." Ray said pointing to the study hall half way down the hallway.

   "Yeah I'll help him." Sam said heading off with Ray leaving me and Frank together.

   "So how are you?" Frank asked.

   "Okay, a little scared for something but it doesn't matter, you?" I asked him.

   "I'm good, scared for something too." He said.

   "Aw does a little Frank need a hug?" I teased.

   "Actually yes, a hug would be good right now." He said opening his arms for a hug.

   "Okay." I smiled and gave him a hug, it was a really nice hug and I never wanted to let go, it was amazing and I really did love Frank.

   "That was nice." Frank said once we pulled away.

   "Yes it was." I agreed.

   "So want me to pick you up tonight? Ray's getting everyone else." He said smilingly and scratching the back of his neck looking down at the ground.

   "Yeah sure." I said almost instantly.

   "Okay good, I'll get you at four so you have an hour to get ready for it." He said now sounding very happy.

   "Okay, I'll see ya' then" I said, the bell rang and we hugged again, I was definitely in love with him but I couldn't help thinking of Mikey and how much I must've hurt him.

   We made our way to music, I was in this class with Gerard and Frank luckily. We were the last to get there as usual but we always had seats left for us beside Gerard.

   "So how was it?" Gerard asked after Frank went away to get a guitar because we were playing our instruments today.

   "It was good, we hugged and he's picking me up for the concert." I said and Gerards face lit up with happiness.

   "Oh my god! This is so perfect!" Gerard said clapping his hands unable to contain his excitement.

   "Why?" I asked laughing a little.

   "It's so obvious! He's gonna make his move tonight."

Time (A True Love Story)

   Author's Ramblings: So this is a true event that has happened to me. It's real, so not really a story. All I can say is that I hope you can find someone as special as I have.

   P.S: Dedicated to her. My Summertime. That's all, she knows the rest.

   Time is the worst thing in the world. It manipulates, changes, and moves too fast for the stragglers, too slow for the accelerating stars of this world. But the worst thing, you can’t go back. You can sit forever wondering what if and why and if I could have. But you can never change it. And but wishing and wondering, you’re only wasting more time. So what’s the point in dwelling in the past?

   Sam never really liked time that much. She used to sit and watch the clock obsessively, waiting for the moment of success, love, something to strike, and get her out of her life and straight to the acclaimed world of the outcasts. Because that what she was. An outcast. But she liked that about herself, that was granted, she liked being different.

   But she was always too different.

   She never had many friends, Sam. She had peers, who she would walk about school with and laugh and joke with, but she always knew that she didn’t really fit in with them, the ‘quirky’ outcasts. She was too flawed, too out there. She had one friend, once, but she all too quickly fell for him, way too hard, and the hardest part with that was that she was stupid enough not to tell him and continue to live out a lie until they finally reached secondary school and drifted apart.

   No, she didn’t have many actual friends.

   But then that changed.

   Sam had always liked computers, and she’d always liked music. So it only made sense to join her favourite band’s fan site, right? Sam made an account, and just liked being in a place where people were nice and liked the same things as her. They were like a family.

   But she still felt… alone. Different. Too different.

   Then she met someone very. Very special.

   Writing was a huge passion of Sam’s, she loved creating worlds where she felt like she could fit in and escape to for a while. And she also liked to write about the people she idolised, just like her favourite band. And when she spotted a blog on the band’s website, asking for someone to write a joint fan fiction with them, well. Was she really going to ignore it?

   Of course not.

   A message was sent. The two girls got chatting, and Sam soon found that she liked this girl, they were both quite alike. The pair started writing, a war themed tale, although it was soon forgotten in the depth of conversation between them. They had so much to talk about, so much to share. For the first time in her life Sam felt like she had a real friend, an honest to God, proper friend. And she was really, really happy about that. It looked like things were looking up for Sam’s future.

   Well, karma seems to disagree.

   A few weeks after the girls began to talk Sam noticed a message in her inbox, just like she did every day. Nothing unusual. So she opened it up, scrolling quickly down the page, and then stopped.

   Sam read the words of the screen, tears almost overflowing from her eyes, and almost destroying her keyboard in her attempt to save someone that had become her best friend, even though the two had never met. She wasn’t going to lose another person, not again, not again. Sending her reply, Sam wanted to curl up in a ball and cry and scream and shout and disappear from the world, be engulfed in all of the fear, the anger, everything that was attacking her at that moment. But she couldn’t, she knew that she had to stay strong for her friend, had to be there to pick her up.

   And so, she stayed.

   Hours later, hours and hours of worrying and tearing herself apart, she finally got a reply. Her best friend in the world was okay, was going to be fine, and she had made sure of that. Sam had made sure of that.

   You never know how much you love someone until you come close to losing them, and even though Sam was a teenager riled up with hormones and stress, she had always been mature for her age, and more so than some adults around her. And she knew what love was. Oh she was sure she knew.

   Love’s a funny thing. It’s not an emotion, people are wrong about that. Love is a sensation combined with knowledge of something or someone. Things can be said and words can touch people in a way that make them want more, wish for more of that person or thing. Another thing about love is that you don’t have to be in love to love someone who’s not family, you can sometimes love your friends more than you love a boyfriend or a girlfriend. No, you can still be in love with people in a non romantic way. That’s one of the few things in the world that is true.

   Teenagers are also a funny thing. They’re treated like children and expected to act like children, and pretty much get the short end of the stick. What many people don’t realise, even though everyone is a teenager at some point, is that teenagers can love others just as much as adults. They’re often told it’s not love, but Sam begs to differ. Sam didn’t fall in love with her best friend, falling in love is romance. No, Sam kind of… created love for her best friend, just as strong as romance, but different.

    Not typical. Different.

   Like Sam.

   And so Sam continued to love her best friend, still does to this day, and she always will. She knows that her best friend is the most amazing person in existence, and wouldn’t give her up for the world.

   Sometimes Sam does get a little sad though, it’s only normal, but she often wonders what it would have been like if she had told her old best friend she loved him, maybe all of this would have been different. Maybe she would have had friends.

   But then she remembers that she did tell her best friend that she loved her, it was just completely different circumstances, and a completely different type of love. And when she gets upset, she tells her best friend, and Sam always feels better afterwards, because her best friend is truly the best. And she stops thinking about what ifs and I wonders. Because it’s a waste of time. You can’t change time.

   And quite frankly, I don’t think Sam would want to now.


   Part Twelve

   Author's Ramblings: Okay, so part thirteen. I fancied doing a little party piece because it would be funny. And it lead straight into a part that I had thought up a good while ago, so basically, stuff starts to go down tonight! Spot the BBT reference if you can, comment if you find it, comment if you don't, comments are love! So in a nutshell, enjoy guys, please let me know what you think!

   P.S. Dedicated to our Dad's this time, because they certainly know how to party, but they don't make us play spin the bottle. Don't panic.

   Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

   Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (students, unsure of any others)

   P.O.V: Switches throughout, 1st.

   Disclaimer: No characters are owned by us, not ours blah blah blah... (I wish)

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like kids, the boys learn about music in EVERY lesson, and some of the teachers have also been hiding a few secrets...

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Ray’s P.O.V.


   Erhg. I look up the clock on my wall, which is actually moving for once, the one fucking time I could do without it. I have no idea why Pete is organising another party, not a clue, but I’d rather keep my mind-fuckness to a minimum, for one day.

   I’m serious, if he has made more of his ‘special’ jello-shots, or tries to get me to play pot roulette again or just… any freaky shit that spews out of his mouth on a hourly basis, then he’s going to be walking around with a staple in his forehead. And I can’t be dealing with a hangover tomorrow; I have way too much shit to do.

   Why am I even going?

   Three O’clock. Wonderful, wonder-fucking-ful.

   Knock knock knock.

   “Come in!” Who could that be? I thought everyone was getting tarted up for this ‘party’? Why would anyone-

   Frank’s P.O.V.


   Into the jaws of Hell we stroll. I’ve actually not been this cautious about one of Pete’s ‘get togethers’ (attempts to form a satanistic cult) before now, but today feels… different. Maybe Pete used an Ouija board and contacted some murdered lawyer before we got here? Maybe Pete hired a voodoo priest to perform a ritual? 

    Maybe Pete’s a voodoo priest?

    Oh shit.

   Holding onto a slightly shaking Gerard’s (maybe it’s me, can’t really tell at this point) hand and force open the door, kicking off my tradition of destroying shit with the classic Gerard eye roll. Wonderful stuff, tradition. Wonderful stuff.

   “S’UP, TEACHING BITCHES!” I scream at into the staff room, heads turning to bask in our entering glory. Well, that’s what I’m thinking until I take a jacket (think its Ryan’s, I’ll see what I can do) and the room cackles with laughter. “Alright fuckers! Let’s get it started, we have indeed arrived.” I smirk, and Bob, who’s trying to act casual (trying as in utterly failing) around Vicky T. Who knows why, love is crazy shit. When I first fell for Gerard I once called up this hotline which-

   Whoosh and there’s lemonade in my hand. What just….  I scan for the obvious ghost in the room just in time to watch Spencer slip back into his seat next to Jon, grinning his face off. Nothing like a Smith at a party.

   I toast silently to Spencer, before handing my unopened can to Gerard, who seems slightly surprised at my generosity. “What?” I raise my eyebrow, “I can be a gentleman too, you don’t always have to be.”

   “I, I know, I just thought you liked being looked after.” Aw, isn’t he a sweetheart?

   “Well,” I reach up to peck my baby on the lips, looping my hands around his neck, “maybe it’s time I took care of you for a little time, yes?” I know it’s cheesy, but hey, I’m a cheesy dude. A cheesy dude who loves his boyfriend, so whoever doesn’t like it can fuck off.

   Another kiss and I think I’m quite content to stay like this for the rest of the night. Drifting into a nice warm little world of our own, falling together into oblivion.

   Except that I’m certain that’s not going to happen.

   “Come on motherfuckers, time for a classic!” I didn’t think so. Sighing I untangle myself from Gee, take his hand and lead him towards the circle which has formed in the centre of the couch area. When we’re all sitting down (Gerard on my jacket. Gentleman level three, fuck yes.) Pete produces an empty… fuck, is that an original Coca Cola bottle? Anyway, he holds it up, smiling creepily at us all, the effect muted after three damn years.

   “So, game players,” He’s making it sound like the Queen’s freaking speech, “we all know the rules of classic spin the bottle; I am firing anyone who doesn’t.” I notice Toro keeping particularly quiet. Good move. “Excellent.” He carries on. “Now before we begin, I would like to introduce you to my son, who is the cause of this very party. Everyone please welcome Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Fourth!”


   There are four of them.

   And I thought the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was a load of bull. I whisper to Gerard “Pack your bags, we run at three am. If I’m caught save yourself.” I get a smirk, despite the seriousness in my voice. The worst thing is that he thinks I’m joking.

   “Wait wait wait.” Ryan pipes up next to me, and I can feel Satan in my soul. “Is that who he is?” Ryan jerks his thumb over his shoulder, and we all look at a smaller version of Pete, except with blonde hair and that somehow makes him scarier. When he sees us he smiles, and the world explodes because that smile will now be slapped upon two faces. Heaven help us now.

   “Yes Ryan, this is my son.” Pete (headmaster) glares at him again, and I think he may spontaneously combust. But he doesn’t. “So, you’re Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, right?” At this point he’s laughing, and I don’t know why this is funny… it just is…

   “Shut the fuck up, George Ryan Ross the Third.” Okay, and that was creepy, and I just don’t know how. Ryan immediately shuts up, knowing the Wentz wrath all too well, and with two of the bastards in the room… no way is he getting out alive.

   “And you can keep your mouth shut too, Spencer James Smith the Fifth.” Pete IV calmly states, facing the fridge, completely oblivious to an open mouthed Spencer who has just had the shit eating grin wiped off his face. How did he even know that he was going to say anything? I stare in disbelief, because I’m kind of scared now. Psychic Pete’s are not good.

   “Right.” Pete III shakes us out of it, “My son is gonna come play with us, but seeing as I don’t want him kissing any of you fuckers, I’m inviting the sisters down to join-“

   “NO!” All four of us older brothers leap at that, because no fucking way am I letting Spawn O’ Wentz get anywhere near my little sister. And I am pretty damn sure that none of the others are either. “Pete, I will let my little sister play a kissing game with your son when Hell freezes over and the Devil gets frostbite and calls you for back up!” Wow, Brendon gets pretty protective over Sasha. I mean, I see his point, it’s Pete’s son.

   What other reasoning do you need?

   “Alright, keep your thongs on, I don’t wanna play. Dad, why am I even here? Actually, how did I get here?”

   “Pete that is a question most of us has asked and never had answered.” I mutter to myself, receiving sniggers from both my left and right flanks. Nice to be a comedian. “Fine, go drive home, take my car.” Teacher Pete smiles at his son, and throws him some very expensive looking car keys, and he waves, strolling out of the room like he’s God or something.

   Wow that was weird.

   “Alright! Let’s play the game! Me first.” Pete sits back in the place he started in, acting like nothing had happened at all in the past five minutes. The bottle twirls and twirls on the carpet, and I mentally bet that it will land on a certain Patrick Stump sitting next to Greta.

   The bottle halts, and big shocker.

   “Patriiiiiiick!” Pete opens his arms, welcoming his husband to jump in. Instead, he just crawls over, kisses Pete on the lips softly and shuffles back into place, evidently eager to continue the game. I wonder what Pete promised him to make him so keen?

   Patrick takes the bottle and flicks his wrist. We all shriek at the sight of Jon’s face when it lands on him and the little flush in his cheeks when Spencer pushes him towards Patrick. I can already tell it’s going to be a fun night.

* * * 

   “There was tongue! Tongue!”

   “Fuck off Supporta!” Man, there was tongue. I saw it, we all saw it, Vicky gave Bob tongue. Leaning in Gerard’s lap is the perfect place to be right now, great for watching the action unfold. Anyway, I can keep a sneaky eye on Mikey to see if he’s betraying his brand new fancy. Well, not like I can do anything about it, but hey, I will be successful in this!

* * *

    … Turns out Becket is a decent kisser.

* * *

   “OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL, OKAY?!?!?” Oh my Jesus Christ! No way, no fucking way in fucksville! No, no, it’s not funny… okay, I lied, and it’s hilarious! “Sisky, how old are you?” Spencer’s shit eating grin has returned, and in HD.

   Sisky is blushing now, furiously. “Okay, I’m twenty four, but it doesn’t mean shit, alright? It doesn’t matter! I’ve just been… waiting.”

   Gabe, predictably, pipes up, downing another pop tart. “Sisky, it’s okay man, I’m just glad I was your first.” Aw, man, Sisky got to kiss for the first time. Very sweet.

   I think I’m sharing Spencer’s smile now.

* * *

   Oh man, what’s the time? I glance around for a clock, and I make out twelve thirty on the wall clock. Christ, how long did I sleep for? Is it morning yet? A look out the window says no, and the fact that Gerard is stroking my hair is another indication that we’re not moving anytime soon. I quite like this. Hmm, maybe Pete’s parties aren’t all that bad…

   Slam. What the fuck was that? We both look up, and I think that was… Mikey? What just… I don’t know.

   I look up at Gee, who’s wearing a worried expression, which means something’s definitely wrong. Definitely, definitely wrong. “Baby? Do you want me to go after him?” I stroke his face, knowing that it calms him down. Most of the time.

   “No. No, I’d. I’d better go. Stay here for me?”

   “I’ll go back to our room in about an hour, take your time, okay?” I get up, stretching my legs and grabbing my jacket. It’s his favourite, and I know he wants to steal it.

   I put it on his arms and turn him around so I can kiss him. “Now you go. Go look after him, okay?” The look in his eyes are enough confirmation, and without another word he leaves, fingers twitching like they always do when he’s worried.

   I can only pray it doesn’t get any worse.

Gerard’s P.O.V.


   Knock knock knock "Mikey? Mikes, let me in." I try the handle to Mikey’s door, which has remained shut since I started knocking ten minutes ago. Locked. "Michael James Way, let me in before I get Bob to come break down the door." A few seconds later, it cracks open, and Mikey is standing there w- Oh. Oh God.

   His eyes are red and glassy, like he's been crying for hours. His usually steady hands are shaking madly, and I feel heartbroken. I swear to God, whoever has done this to my little brother, my Mikey... They're gonna pay. "Hey Gee." He tries to smile, but the crackle in his throat and the tears in his puffy eyes tell otherwise. I see it. Pain, utter fucking pain. Something that I've hardly ever seen in anyone let alone Mikey Way

     "Mikey. What, what?" I pull him into an embrace, my arms circling my baby brother from any more harm this fucking world can cause him. Kicking the door shut, I guide him over to his bed, still hugging him tightly, and sit him down, his stupid, bottling self. How in hell he keeps himself this calm, I'll never know. "Mikey, what happened, why did you run out like that?" That was fucking weird, what possessed him to run out of the teacher's lounge like that? Did we say something? I search for an answer in my head, and not really getting one. For God's sake, why can't I have psychic Spencer powers?

   No, this is Mikey time. I shake stupid superhero thoughts from my mind and return to Mickey’s pain. His breathing is stuttered, and I haven't seen him this upset since he broke up with-

   Oh. Oh God, no.

   "Mikey, Mikey tell me what happened." His shoulders are shaking, and holy hell, he didn't get this distraught when we were recording Parade, and that was a dark time. I, I don't know what to do. He has calmed a little, but I can still see those painful, hurting tears. "Bro-broke up." He whispers, pulling his knees up to his chest, and slightly rocking. No, this can't of happened, it can't.

   "Who broke up Mikes?" I say the words confidently, praying, just praying that I'm wrong. My arm wraps around Mikey’s head, pulling his mop of dirty blonde hair onto my shoulder.

   Instead of replying, I feel hot tears on through my T-Shirt, and he starts to shake again. "Gee, I- I don't know wh-what happened. We just. Just argued and, and it got tough and I- I." He looks up, tears streaming and catching in his messy fringe. I can feel the pain in his beautiful pure heart, and it's destroying me to see Mikey, the little boy who was scared of a swimming pool, heartbroken. "I- I got a r-ring."... no, not this.

   He reaches to the jacket slung over the edge of the bed, and pulls out a box. When it clicks open, I stare at it for a second. Then knock it to the floor, and slowly pull my brother's head to my chest, willing my heart to share the love that beats in mine at this second. The crackle is back, and I hate to hear it. "I- I'm in love Gee. B-but i-. It hurts to let go. I- I don't thi-think I can. Gee, I’m s-sorry. S-so so so-sorry!" He bursts into full on sobs of despair and heartbreak, and the only thing I can do is tighten my protective hold on him, sharing the hurt and letting a silent tear run down my face. 

   There is no way, no way in fucking hell that I will let this happen to my little brother. My sweet, strong brother, being torn apart by his own emotions. "Shh, Mikes. Just tell me what happened. I'm here, I'm here. It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

   So we stay there. Mikey’s head in my lap, sobbing his poor little heart out, and I listen, close to tears myself. My hands steady hands run over his smooth hair, and try so hard to make it all go away with every stroke. I refuse to see him like this and not be there with him every step of the way. I can't, I won't.

   As he tells me the story, every excruciating second of it, I begin to think. And, even though I come up with crazy shit everyday of my life, I think... yeah. Yes, this could work. Oh, if there's a God somewhere up there, then he's looking out for Mikeyway at this point in time. And I have to get started right away, if I can pull this off.

   But when I see Mikey’s beautiful eyes, I don't see him now. I see my little baby brother, seven years old and just open to everything in this world, hurtful or harmless, and it's up to me to shield him, if only for tonight. I smile a weak smile, letting him know that I'm here for the night, and I receive a weaker, sad twitch of the lips back. I watch his eyes shut, falling into what I can tell will be a restless sleep. I pull off his converses, and remove his glasses. Pulling the blanket over his skinny shoulders, I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling his curled body to mine.

   I stay there with him, counting the ragged breaths and determined to stay awake, protecting and watching him. I run over my plan in my head, searching for any flaws or traps my fucked up mind could have created to make it all fall apart. But... there isn't. I check every detail, every word that has to be said, and no matter what I do to try and screw it up, it just won't die.

   Huh. I smile to myself, and I know that I will put it all to an end soon. For Mikey, I'll make sure that this ends up right. But for now, I lay by him, radiating my warmth into his pained, amazing soul. I'll do anything to see that smile again. Anything.

Part fourteen

   Author's Ramblings: I wrote this in the heat of the moment, just now because I felt like it, and I think it's alright. I've always wanted to write one of these, so please tell me what you think if you read it, because it's my first one of these layouts. Enjoy lovely people!

   P.S: Dedicated to a friend of mine who I had a crush on for a solid four years, and never did anything about it. It might have turned out like this, I just don't know.

   Warnings: None.

   Disclaimer: I'm a human, I lie.

   Pairings: Frank/Gerard, implied Ray/Mikey

   Gerard didn’t make friends easily. He would sit in the corner of the school’s only art room, under the watchful and worrying eye of Miss Broughton, whilst all of the other children ran around the playground in their brightly coloured clothes and fighting over the good swing, Gerard would stay inside, getting red paint on his stripy black t-shirt and sometimes crying a silent tear of the solitude. Sometimes his teacher saw him. Sometimes she considered asking why he wasn’t outside.

   She never did.

   Frank had lots of friends. He was always the bundle of energy in the schoolyard, making jokes about the villain in the latest Superman comic, and impressing the adoring crowd with his new action figures. He never once stayed indoors, not even when it snowed for a week straight and he caught a nasty chill, only worse affected by his asthma. He didn’t care. He loved people.

   People loved him.


* * * * * * * * *

   Gerard didn’t want to go to his little brother’s seventh birthday party. No, he would much rather stay holed up in his bedroom, drawing vampire massacres and watching the horror movies he could smuggle from his parent’s bedroom, scaring himself gleefully silly. But no, he loved Mikey really, and he didn’t want to upset his brother. After all, was he really going to be affected by a bunch of jittery seven year olds running amongst his ankles? What chance was there of him actually getting judged?

   Not very much.

   Frank loved parties, he always had. So when he got invited to Mikey Way’s birthday party one year, was he really going to say no? Even if the kid was two years younger than him and probably didn’t have as many Star Wars figures as him. So on that Friday after school, Frank practically bounced up the road to the address scrawled hurriedly on his palm, best button shirt on, brand new Light sabre tucked under his arm. He tackled Mikey at the door, both boys shrieking in delight when the glowing green sword light up the hallway. Frank didn’t see a set of hazel eyes on him from the end of the hall, peering out from the kitchen, bright and shiny.

   Didn’t see until later, anyway.

    * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard hated dancing. He really did, and whenever Mikey tried to get him to dance with him in the living room, he would run to his mother’s arms in the kitchen, clutching tightly to her legs as she patted his head, worried that her eldest son would never learn how to be social. After a few minutes, she warmly smiled at her little boy, told him to run along, and he would apprehensively shuffle back into the party room, trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

   Until the next dance track anyway.

   Frank loved dancing. He would spin in circles, jump off of things, jump onto people, generally his friend Bob, and disco dance, anything to move to the music. It made him feel alive, truly alive. He wanted everyone to feel like this, because people who hadn’t ever felt the magic that tingled through his system when he jumped up and down to the beat, well, they were missing out man! And at one point in the party, he spotted a boy sitting in the huge armchair in the corner, absolutely still and hiding behind his long dark hair. Well, what was he doing? Frank immediately walked over to him, and knelt down, although he was already shorter than him. Resting on the other boy’s knee, he knew instantly that he was Mikey’s brother; they had the same star eye, the same cheekbones that jutted, even through the roundness of his face. Smiling, he told the scared looking boy his name, and pulled him up to dance with him, gripping his gloved hand. When he felt a pull of resistance, he simply smiled again, tilted his head and said “It’s okay. I’ll dance with you. If we both look silly, then at least we’ll be silly together.”


   Slowly, the boy stood up, and smiled when he gripped Frank’s hand back.

    * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard liked Frank. He liked him a lot, and was secretly glad that he pulled him up to dance in the midst to his living room, swinging their arms wildly to possibly the most fitting song in the world at that very moment in time. He didn’t know why, but he liked Frank more than he’d liked anyone, because he wasn’t scared of him. A lot of the time people ignored him because he was weird and didn’t bother to talk anyone else. But not Frank. Frank had spoken to him first, and he seemed to like him. So after the song had finished, he didn’t curl up in his chair out of sheer embarrassment and social reclusion. Instead he grabbed Frank around the waist and hugged him hard.

   He felt the other boys arms hug back.

   Frank liked Gerard. At first it was hard getting him to loosen up and let go, he was shy for a few minutes. But soon he was jumping and laughing as much as Frank was, hair getting in his eyes and completely blinding him, although neither of them cared when they crashed onto the sofa together. Instead they stayed in a fit of giggles for a full ten minutes, laughing at each other’s smudged face paint and messy hair. They were having fun, and Frank didn’t think Gerard had fun very much. So he leaped onto a confused Gerard and tackle hugged him, like he did with Mikey earlier in the evening. Except, this time, he didn’t want to pull away and get back to the party. He just wanted to stay, embraced in the other boy’s safe arms and comforting presence. So… he did.

   Gerard didn’t seem to mind.

    * * * * * * * * *

Gerard had always known he’d liked boys. Really, he always knew. Whenever he watched Snow White as a kid, he always thought that it would be so much cooler if two dwarves got together, and then Dopey would get with Prince Charming, because just because he’s a dwarf, doesn’t mean he can’t get with a prince, Jesus. He did find Snow White pretty, of course he did, it’s just that when he watched them kiss, it just didn’t seem right. One time he asked Frank what he thought of his Snow White theory, getting a reply of “Dude, they should have done that in the movie! Fight the power, right?” He just smiled, and returned to staring at the ceiling, continuing the comfortable silence they always shared after a zombie movie. He was kind of hoping… no, he was kind of wishing that Frank would take the hint. But maybe, he could just…

   Gerard wasn’t impulsive. Usually.

   Frank didn’t like boys. No, he liked girls, they were soft and giggled in a really cute way, and didn’t mind if you sometimes picked them up when they weren’t expecting it. And boys were arrogant, he should know, he was one, and they didn’t really like being swept of their feet, which often got the sweeper a punch in the face. So no, Frank liked girls, although it would have been a kick in the teeth for homophobic parents if the seven dwarves were gay together, that would have been awesome. But one time, when he and Gerard were lying in his room together, Gerard leaned over and kissed him. Dude, kissed him, on the mouth, out of nowhere. At first he had no idea what to do, just lie completely still. But after a few seconds, he started to… enjoy it, a little bit. So he kissed back. And it wasn’t like he was kissing a boy, not really.

   He was kissing Gerard. And he really, really liked it.

       * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard loved Frank. There was nothing else to it. He loved him, he had from the moment he saw him really. The little ball of energy that pulled him up to dance at the party, was the person he fell in love with, fifteen years later. Simple.

   Gerard was in love.

   Frank loved Gerard. There was nothing else to it. Frank loved Gerard’s eyes when he first saw him in that armchair, curled in a nervous ball, and gradually, he grew to love more of him, all of him. The small, reclusive little boy that he made smile all those years ago was the person he fell in love with, fifteen years later. Simple.

   Frank was in love.

       * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard didn’t think Frank would say yes. Not in a million years, but he had to try, right? So when Frank leapt at him and kissed him so hard, his smile and laughter seeping through the passion, he was absolutely shocked. After another kiss (and another, and another and another), Gerard pulled back, smiling into the face of the man he loved, had always loved, and he could feel his own smile forming. “So, that’s a yes then?”

   And another.

   Frank knew he would say yes. He knew from the moment he had found the receipt in Gerard’s jacket when it was his turn for laundry, a whole week before. But he didn’t even need a second to think about it. He simply smiled to himself, slipped the receipt back in the pocket, and carried on like nothing had happened, willing himself to wait and not explode. That night he showed Gerard what he knew would be the third greatest night of his life. The other two would come later, one for the engagement and one for the wedding night, but he wasn’t going to be pulling out all of his tricks until then. When Gerard proposed, he flew at him, his heart racing and his soul absolutely bursting with love for this one man, his Gerard.

   His Gerard.

     * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard took months to write his vows. Months. It was important, he wanted to get it right, because even thought no matter what he said it wouldn’t be enough; he wanted to make it as close as he could. Frank would sometimes catch him scribbling away in the night, but he pretended to be asleep, content with guessing. So on the day of the wedding, the most nerve wracking of his life, Gerard said the words he had sweated over for so long, all coming out and into Frank. He glanced at Mikey over Frank’s shoulder whilst he talked about the night they first met, all those years ago today, and smiled when he saw him take the hand of a curly haired man standing next to him when he said that no one would ever feel the love that they had together. He looked at his mother when he talked about how much he cared for Frank, and how he would for the rest of his days, no matter how hard or difficult it got, he would always be there, picking him up and holding him close. Finally, he looked into Frank’s eyes when he told him how much he loved him, and how he saved him from himself, and that his heart was his to take. He was his Prince Charming, and he was honoured that Frank would let him be his Dopey. Tears streamed from everyone in the hall, including Frank himself, and Gerard was just so unbelievably happy that Frank knew now.

   He knew.

   Frank didn’t write vows. He tried, he really did, but he couldn’t think of anything to say or write down, so he just didn’t. He really regretted it when he heard Gerard’s vows, they were outright beautiful, even his father was crying. Oh man, now it was his turn. Frank looked back into those shiny eyes, and suddenly he felt safe, not at all nervous, just… calm. Smiling, he told Gerard everything. Just everything he could think of, how happy he was to have pulled him up on the dance floor to that one magical song, how many years he had never thought he could love someone as much as he loved him, how his eyes inspired him to do every bit of good in this world, just absolutely everything. He didn’t once look away, and when he was finally done, he smiled up at him, beaming.

   Frank loved the way Gerard didn’t wait for the vicar to say the words before they kissed.

      * * * * * * * * *

   Gerard wanted to be alone with Frank, just for a few minutes. They’d cut the cake, thanked everyone for coming, received multiple hugs, danced their first dance. So, when everyone was jumping up and down to extremely loud music, he grabbed his new husband and led him outside to a candle lit portion of the field outside. This time it was his turn. Stopping in the middle of the candles, he turned to Frank, got his phone out of his pocket and hit a button before dropping it onto the grass. Slowly, wrapping one arm around his waist and grasping the other, he began to sway. Frank didn’t really know what was going on, he was still dazed from the party, but when Gerard whispered in his ear softly “My turn to get you dancing, Charming.”, he pressed his face into Gerard’s chest, humming soundly into the warmth of his new husband, completely and utterly in love.

   Now at least they had one thing in common.

Rec list!!

   So, lovely people, long story short, all of my favourite peices of bandom I have read in one place!! Feel free to add anymore you think I would like in comments, because I love bandom, and I love comments :) Love you guys!! Also, some will not be on LJ, so I will mark them in purple. Enjoy lovely people!

   Disclaimer: Other than those highlighted in red, I have not written any of these, all credit goes to their authors, not me.

My Chemical Romance


The Kids From Yesterday (G, hinted Mikey/Ray) - Very sweet, short, but I almost cried. I know, but it was sweet! Killjoys!!
Ghosts in the Attic (NV-17) - I love this story, possibly one of the best, but it's so very sad, and tragically written. Warnings: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, creepy materbation scene, more warnings on page.
Trick or Treat (G) - A very cute kidfic, and yes Frank, Halloween would be MY favourite day of the year too :)
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot (G) - About Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, whatever you call it, and I found this very nice, seeing as I'm Brittish and I knows about this stuff. Sweet too, like most of the things I read :)
New Shoes (G) - Nice little read to get you in the mood to go shopping and get yourself a man. Never worked for me, I must say, but hey, I've not tried to get army boots yet.
Don't Run (PG-13) - Sequel to 'New Shoes', I embraced and felt snuggly because of it :)
All Tied Up (NC17) - Not really needing to explain this one so much. Hot.
I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Clause (G) - I laughed, and I thought about what beautiful children they would have :)
Fallen (NC17) - Superheroes, and supervillans. I almost cried.
Touch (NC17) - Gerard has a thing for hands. Specifically, Frank's hands :)
Mr & Mr Smith (NC17) - Assassins, just loved it, bittersweet me thinks.
Ours (G) - Dogs!
Blood, Blood, Gallons of the Stuff (NC17) - Twisted, a little bit disturbing, not for anyone of a nervous disposition, but I liked it, because I am warped. Don't read if you don't like death or blood.
Man Flu (G) - Gerard's sick. Frankie has to look after him. And que sweetness... (I'm sick as I write this... FRANK!!)
(Not So) Secret Santa (NC17) - So, anyone seen the video of MCR getting Christmas presents? Well, this might have happened...
Let It Snow (G) - So Mikey wants to play in the snow...
My Watercooler Romance (NC17) - Office party, the morning after. Mmmm.
No Experience Necessary (Not sure, nothing outrageous) - Gerard gets a job. At a pizza place. With a young man named Frank. Three parts, lovely piece.
F Is For Frank (R) - I love this, absolutely adore it. Part two link is at the bottom of part one.
Between the Wish and the Thing (NC-17) - Three parts, totally worth your time.
The Summer House (NC17) - Right, I'm not kidding when I say this is the sweetest story I've ever read, not joke, it is. I want to marry this girl, she is a damn right GOD. Besides one, definately my favourite fanfic writer (and the 'besides one', you know who you are ;) )
The Way They Fly (NC-17) - Oh Jesus Christ, how can you not love this story? Huge twists and a tragic love tale which can only come to one of two paths. The best 80's story of today in my opinion. Two parts.
Vampires Will Never Hurt You (G) - This is horribly sweet, I wish this could happen :) A very short lead up to the next fic on this list, so if you read that, read this first so you get it.
You Only Hear The Music When Your Heart Begins to Break (G) - Sequel to the previous story, so very sweet, and I really think this could have been plausible, given the right circumstances.
Today is the greatest day I've ever known (G) - One I wrote in twenty minutes, and frankly I'm very happy with it. A little different from my usual style, but oh well.
Hold on tight and don't look back (G) - Right, on my journal, but not mine, just passing it on. Tissues at the ready!
Secret Santa (R/NC-17) - We all know about MCR's secret santa? Well, just take a look about what MAY have happened afterwards...
All Mikey Way Wants For Christmas (PG-13) - The fucking genius that is Mikey Way :)
Calacas (PG13, background Mikey/Ray) - So this is the third part of the Lush!verse, the other two are down in the Ray/Mikey section, and this is truly scrumptious :)
For You (PG) - A little heartbreaking, but I love it, very sweet and magically cliched :)
Goodnight Sweetheart (PG13) - So sweet I thought my teeth were going to fall out. I kid you not.
Why Mikey Way Is Not To Be Trusted (PG13) - I love MCR Christmases, I really do. I also love Mikey Way :)
You're My Star (PG13) - N'awww, nothing like a punch up to inspire some cliched love, right?
First Date & Forever Beach (PG13) - a very nice Killjoy!Verse, wonderful to read in the summer :)
The Beggining, Middle and End (of falling in love) (NC17) - Oh my Christ, why can I not have this story?!? Why?!?! Incredible, serious reccomendation.
Ten Things I Hate About You (R) - And, cue sweetness, and some utter hilarity, at one part. But all in all, gorgeous :)
How to save a life (R) - Two parts, I was in absolute tears during this, be warned. Parts are linked together. Beautiful.


To Victory (PG13) - Slightly heartbreaking, but just perfect, I love it. All of this verse will be posted, it's ALL Frank/Gerard. Now that's what I like to see :)

Dumping Ground (G) - Awww :) This makes me want to give them both a cuddle :) Who's with me?
New 'do (PG13) - How DARE the 'fro be cut?!
The Seventeen Year Old Virgin (NC17, side Frank/ Gerard) - First Ray/Mikey I've EVER read, and I absolutely am doing this to my little brother :)
Break The Walls (G) - N'awwwww :)
Cold Pizza (I say PG13) - I want this, I want this!
Fabulous Killjoys (NC17) - One of my very favourites :)
When We Meet Again (NC17) - Oh dear God, this one kept me up for HOURS. I literally read for twelve hours straight. Many many parts, definately worth it.
California King (PG-13) - Very chill, also very relaxing, just plain nice :)
Youngling (R, side Frank/Gerard) - Just plain gorgeous, plain sweet, and I want this to happen to me. Sadly, I am not a man, and I cannot have Ray Toro, nor Mikey Way. Sad times... Read it though!
Catching Peices of a Fallen Sky (R-NC17, background Frank/Gerard) - Pure and utter genius, I adore this, I find it very well thought out.
Dream Cream (PG13, background Frank/Gerard) - Part one of a 'Lush!verse', and quite frankly this makes me want to scout out every Lush cosmetics shop in the world and see if paralell versions of My Chem work there. Worth a shot? I think so.
Pow Wow (PG13, background Frank/Gerard) - The second story in the genius Lush!VerseI found, and I quite frankly agree with it thoroughly :)
Padlocks and Chains (NC-17) - Title pretty much explains it, not for the faint hearted. Warnings: Rimming.
Fading Memories (PG-13, past Mikey/Alicia) - Okay, so this is just... yeah, just yeah. A little bit sad on Mikey's part, but I like it all the same :)
You are perfect to me (NC-17) - Oh my God, this is so nice! IT made me laugh, it made me go 'AWWWWWW!', and it made me want to hear Ray speak Spanish!
The Rules They Make (NC-17) - Okay, kind of a killjoy setting, but not them as the killjoys, just 2019. I think it's twisted the way I see the two boys, but I kind of like it. I leave it to you to decide if you so chose :)
Hangover Cure (NC-17) - So Mikey wakes up on his lawn. And well, what can you do but go into your party trashed house and wake your boyfriend up with a nice early morning blow job?


The Fall and Rise of The Black Parade (R, ten parts in total) - Like the THROAM of the MCR world for me, I absolutely adore it, one of my all time favourites. Both Frank/Gerard and Ray/Mikey, Bob's there too!!
Memory of a childhood long since gone (G) - My story, first one, and I'm very proud of it. Have fun!

Panic! At The Disco


How To Fix Everything (R) - Twisted but wonderful, have tissues at the ready.
Too Many Scarves (G) - Damn right you can never have too many scarves!
Sumer sparrows and farewell past (G) - Just a nice relaxing story I wrote, the second one, and it puts me in a good mood whenever I read over it :) The crossover from A Fever to Pretty. Odd.
Voicemail (PG-13) - So the boys have a fight, and both are anchored by their phones. I promise nothing.
The back of a Gillikin Farmer's truck (PG-13) - Kind of confusing and weird, but one of my first, so it holds a place in my heart :)
Realization without absolution (or the world backwards and sideways) (NC-17) - Little strange, warped my view, but you may like it. I don't know, take a look anyway :)
Whore (NC-17) - NOT for the faint hearted, not at all.
Vases (G?) - So this is perfect for anyone who loves cryptic things (me) and metaphors (also me) and just sweet overall :) Amazing!!
Are you there, God? It's me, Brendon. (NC-17) - A three part boarding school fic, absolute genius, more pairings included which I can't really remember :)
Behind the Curtain (PG-13) - Wizard of Oz! I found it whilst looking for a different Wizard of Oz story, and I found this extremely entertining :)

Jon and Spencer Make A Porno (NC-17, side Peterick and Ryden) - Quite literally porn, still entertaing non the less, I loved :)
The Princes And The Peas (NC-17, side Ryden, Peterick and Gabilliam) - Another porno-fic, still like it, very hot in places.
Spencer Smith's Plan for World Domination (PG-13, side Ryan/Brendon, Frank/Gerard and mentions of Ray/Mikey) - ... Just yes.
And I Drew A Heart On Your Window (With My Blood) (Gonna guess at NC-17) - The first piece of fan fiction I had EVER read, and it's by far one of the funniest to this day.

Just Sleep (G) - Not really one for this pairing, but this was cute, so what the hell?


Spring to Winter (PG-13) - No pairings really, but a very, very clear message that I hope every reader takes away.

Fall Out Boy


Curious (It says NC-17, but I don't think so. Not at all) - Cute and sweet, Patrick gets a little curious...
First Times (PG13) - I love it, I love thse types of layouts. Read it, sweetness overload.
Sea sights through tired eyes (G) - Based on the 'What a catch, Donnie' video for Fall Out Boy, just something I thought of quickly.

General bandom (pairings in brackets)

Pete Wentz Is Dead (Ryan/Gabe minor, PG-13)- I liked it, entertaining, but still solemn.
   Part 1 here

   (Not) Author's Ramblings: Yay, part two! So, every Tuesday I'm gonna post my friend's story. There's already a part eight, so I know what's going to happen :) I hope you all enjoy, and let me know what you thinkg of it so I can show my friend because she is absolutely lovely and deserves to be told how amazing she is :) Enjoys guys! 

"You what?" I asked now feeling quite scared.

   "I forgot my homework for music can I copy yours?" He asked. I felt horrible, everything I hoped for was probably gone now. Fuckin music homework was not was I was expecting!

   "Um yeah sure give me two minutes so I can get It out my bag" I said taking my backpack off and sitting it on the ground unzipping it looking for my small music Jotter with the homework.

   "Here you go" I said handing him over a small red book covered in lyrics and drawings.

   "Thanks!" He said taking it and putting it in his bag "I'll do it in modern studies" .

   "Okay, see ya later" I said as Frank headed back to the group and I stood still, I couldn't believe it.
   "Well never keep your hopes up high Dawn they always fall." I thought to myself picking my bag off the floor and putting it back on just in time for the bell to ring. 

   I pulled put my small timetable once again not knowing what I was in. "Drama with Gerard" I said quietly and started heading down the stairs and the end of the white dirty hallway. 

   The bottom floor, well the drama department was always freezing for some reason. I was one of the last people in the class but as per usual Gerard was last and as per usual the only seat left was next to me in the class circle.

   "Okay class today is improvisation day!" Mrs. Hunter shouted enthusiastically the only people happy were the popular girls.
  "Great, let's do our theme of vampires and revenge" Gerard whispered laughing a little.

   "Yeah, thar would scare the shit out of them" I whispered back.

   "And Gerard no gothic themes they scare everyone, you as well Miss Carter" Mrs. Hunter said sternly to me and Gerard.

   "Great, now we'll need to do something else which will be all preppy" Gerard said sounding very pissed off.

   "Yep, I hate it" I said also sounding pissed off mainly because we were.

   "Now groups hmm" Mrs. hunter said clasping her hands together looking around the class.

   "Gerard and Dawn you two go with Ivy and Luke" She said pointing to a girl with bright red hair and a boy with hair exactly like Gerards and they both had on Nirvana t shirts. Finally a good group hopefully.
   "Come on" Gerard said lifting his chair and heading to sit beside them and I followed. 

   "So what you want to do?" Gerard asked.

   "We we're thinking like after three best friends com home from a Green Day concert and one gets murdered by someone and the drama is about the police trying to find out who did it, so basically it's like a modern version of 'Jack the Ripper'" Ivy said enthusiastically.

   "Sounds good" I said actually liking the idea.

   "Yep!" Gerard agreed.

   "See I told you it was good" Ivy said to Luke sticking her tongue out at him.

   "Okay, hats off to miss. Ivy Hamilton" He said getting up and bowing to her sarcastically which had me and Gerard laughing very much. 

   "Okay, who wants to be the murderer?" Luke asked still laughing a bit.

   "Me!" I said putting my hand up.

   "Okay, that's that who wants to get murdered?" He asked with a serious look in his eyes which I couldn't take seriously. 

   "Can I?" Gerard asked.

   "Of course so let's get started" Ivy said and we started our drama which in my defence wasn't that bad, well compared to the rest of the classes which were all about meeting Justin Bieber.

   "Can people not get a music taste?" I said quietly to Ivy.

   "I wish, seriously I think they should die" She said as the preppy girls drama ended, thankgod and now it was ours. Shit.
We started by having everyone except me walking down a road all drunk and singing 'American Idiot' and from then on, it was great in my opinion.

   "Well done guys, very original" Mrs. Hunter said clapping her hands but the rest all looked at us in disgust, as they always done.

   "So I forgot to ask but how did it go with Frank?" Gerard asked.

   "He asked to copy my music homework" I said and Gerards smile fell into a frown.

   "What?!" he said sounding angry "That wasn't what he said to Mikey!" Gerard shouted and immediately covered his mouth realising what he had just said.

   "What did he say to Mikey?" I asked happily but Gerard didn't answer he just kept his mouth shut and ran out the classroom as the bell had just rung.

   "What did Frank tell Mikey?" I thought to myself as I picked up my backpack and made my way to English, which I was in with Sam thankfully. 

   I took out my iPod and put my earphones in and put it up full. Fall out boy was blasting through my ears when I passed Mikey on the stairs and he pulled me to one side.

   "What is it?" I asked pulling out one of my earphones.

   "What did Frank say to you?" He asked sounding concerned .

   "He asked to copy my music homework, okay?" I said about to put my earphone back in.

   "Listen to me, don't fall for it please you're smarter that that" He said holding me still.

   "What?!" I demanded.

   "Just don't fall for it, please because I love you!"

..... :D

Decay Photo Shoots: Gerard


This is Gerard:

He's the art teacher at the Decay Academy, and it's been a lifelong passion of his, any types of art. Another passion of his, if not quite lifelong, is singing, and he is absolutely astounding at it. Plus, he looks like he belongs on the stage:

Gerard, much to both the disappointment and glee of many fangirls, is in a relationship with Frank Iero. They make a really sweet pair, and love each other so, so much:


Sweet. Mikey is Gerard's little brother, and they are the best of friends, always have been really:

Always. Gerard has dyed his hair a lot over the years, ranging from vampire black:

Angel Gabriel blonde:

And firetruck red:

But just before coming to Decay, he dyed it black and red, to remind himself of the Revenge days :

Gerard was a reclusive kid, nerdy, artistic, but still very cute:

And he still retains some child like qualities even today:

But, even through all the layers fans see, like , for example, hot:

Or cute:

Or serious:

He's just an art teacher (and global rock star):

And he's really very sweet, and won't want to hurt anyone if he can help it.

This is not from me. I was reading blogs on the My Chemical Romance website, and I saw this, it really, really affected me. This needs to be listened, please read all of this, I think this young man is seriously, seriously amazing and so right. Repost this wherever you can, Facebook, Twitter, I don't care, just get it heard. The young man made this his life, to help young gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people, and I think if he knows he's making and difference, he'll be even more determined to help. Please comment and tell me if you decide to repost, I want him to know that people care. People do care. Thank you.

I am writing this plea towards the band members of My Chemical Romance in order to beg them to consider doing my community a favor; a favor that, though they do not owe anyone, I sincerely hope they consider for the future.

I have been a devoted fan of MCR’s music since I was old enough to know what good music was (I’ll give you hint, good music doesn’t have anything to do with Justin Bieber or a women called Gaga). Since I was 11 years old I listened to MCR tracks late into the night. I still remember those hot summers; the oppressive heat and anxiety about the coming school year culminated together in a powerful way. Yet, it was fine since I had the only CD that enthused me to the degree that made me enjoy the lonely evenings.

As I listened to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, however, something inside me was manifesting. A something which would, in the coming years, become a major part of who I am thanks to the bigoted nature of modern society. I am, of course, talking about my sexual orientation.

I am Gay.

I am a gay, 19 year old activist working in whatever way I can with gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trangender youth. Though I do whatever I can to help my young community members there is only so much I can do. With the continuing spree of gay youth committing suicide I feel as though my efforts have been somewhat in vein.

Still, I trudge on though. I do so because I have a dream that one day all young people, regardless of who they love, will be able to freely express themselves. Helping me in this dream are many other people, organizations, and communities; artists, political activists, politicians, and even musicians are helping out the cause.

Contemporary artists such as Rise Against and Shinedown have both released tracks from their recent albums that deal with bullying and suicide. Yet, I do not see my favorite band, MCR, doing so: why?

I am incredibly pleased to see that Gerard and company have been progressive in their political efforts: when you refused to play concretes within states that supported the draconian anti-immigrations laws such as those put forth by Arizona I was glad to see that you were on the right side of history. Then, more recently, I see on this very website you have listed the phone line to the Trevor Hotline. From this I know that you support gay equality and from this I was joyful that my most favored musical choice had supported my community in that small way.

But still, where is the “in your face” action that is on the scale of your immigration stance? Where is the song that encourages young people to overcome their horrible bullying induced situation? As of now Tyler Clementi, Seth Walsh, Asher Brown, Billy Lucas, Raymond Chase, Zach Harrington, Justin Aaberg, Jamey Rodemeyer, and Jack Reece have all taken their own lives
because of the bullying they endured due to their presumed sexual orientation.

Shinedown has written “Bully,” while Rise Against has written “Make It Stop (September’s Children).” People such as Dan Savage have created the “It Gets Better Project” and grassroots groups have sprung up in support of these most vulnerable Americans. Do not get me wrong, I am immensely appreciative at your efforts to raise awareness about key issues as well as your protective stance, but there needs to be more.

I greatly enjoyed your track “Sing” because of its affirming connotations but, and forgive me for saying this, vague songs about being yourself is not enough for today’s belittled youth. They need a song which is there’s’, one that comes from a group that is on the cutting edge of musical activism: a group like you.

Gerard, in the band documentary Life on the Murder Scene, you spoke candidly about your experience as a disenfranchised young person seeking a way out of your crime infested town. You had said that when going through High School you were depressed because of how the “popularity circuit” ran; former friends disowning you in order to move up in the student food chain. You found the strength to carry on through comics and horror movies and eventually music yet there is something else which made you carry through till the end: your sexual orientation.

I do not intend to preach but gay teens face bullying and discrimination the likes of which their heterosexual peers know little about. They share the common burden of understanding their place in the world at a crucial time in their lives, but other than that they know very little about one another.

You were dismayed when such friends left you for the social scene yet you were lucky that is all that happened: could you honestly look me in the eye and say that you wouldn’t have been any more depressed, apathetic, or lonely had people been calling you “faggot,” “homo,” and urging you to kill yourself? I believe you would have been a mess, if I may so say.

Yet, this is the reality of school and youth life. On top of coping with the unprecedented changes in their bodies young gay people must handle the hatred directed towards them by their, often cruel, peers. Some find a way out through dropping out or moving… yet many do not.

For many youth, such as me, music helped prior to moving into night school. Music such as the brave tones of your first studio release. Though I was helped back than by your creativity, many youth today are not so lucky. They have not the fortuitousness or the means to struggle until the end.

Later in the same documentary you speak of your struggle with alcoholism and how it nearly claimed your own life. From this startling development I know you share the mindset that many depressed and lonely bullied teens have. This is why I believe you would be perfect for the role of writing a powerful, affirming anti-bulling and suicide song intended for mass consumption among the youth.

You writing such a song wouldn’t only be a personal favor to me and my community but it would show the world your stance on innocent kids unjustly marked for harassment. I hope with all my heart that you take this suggestion into mind and consider writing such as song. Trust me when I say that It would mean the world to many, many dispossessed youth searching for that little ray of acceptance.

Well, that is my letter. Due to circumstances beyond my control I was forced to post it here on the blog. I do not know if you will ever read my letter, if word of my plea will reach your ears. If I had a snail mail address I would mail it to you and do whatever it took to ensure that this letter reaches your eyes. There is a chance that you will never read my letter and though I hope the opposite is true, even if such happened, if this letter here helps just one person than I will be happy.


Curtis Cole.

Please guy. Help the world and change some lives.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.


Ray, Toro, amazing, stunning

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