Pete Wentz was used to late night hook-ups, drunken kisses, and getting on his knees. For anyone. Mikey Way was used to coffee cups, The Smiths, and hearing about his brother's boyfriend every second. So why Pete Wentz ended up writing Mikey Way a song and performing it at a house party was beyond everyone.

Patrick turns 18 soon, seems like no big deal right? Wrong. He has to choose a mate before nineteen or he has to give up his spot in the pack. So what happens when a loner is brought into the group? A loner who everyone is suspicious about and no one trusts. [This story includes; gayness, wolves, and offensive outbursts.]

It's the lake in November, and the move closer to the ocean, and Gerard's fixation, and Gerard's compulsions like tidal waves dragging him down, and Mikey's more distant than ever: like they're drifting out into the middle of the ocean, whereas Gerard's just stuck there: water turning to quicksand around him, drowning. And it's the letter; Frank finds it on the floor of the boys' bathroom on the first floor. It's dropped in accident, perhaps from a pocket or something, and it's drenched in what Frank hopes is tap water, and the words: scrawled in blue ink are difficult to make out as the words join together in a fuzzy inky mess. The only paragraph legible is the final one, and even still, it barely is: 'I've been underwater for a long time now, but I'm not drowning, I'm beginning to think I can breathe like this, but I can't, I'm gasping for breath, and I have to do this, Mikey, I have to end this myself. I'm going to the lake on the 1st of November, don't wait for me... I'm not coming back.' And the name signed at the bottom is little more than a smudged mess of blue ink, and there's nothing Frank can do about it, but he knows for certain that the one thing he can't do is ignore this letter, and he reminds himself of that as he folds it into his pocket. It's a suicide note, Frank's stupid, but not stupid enough to brush over that fact, and whoever this person is, Frank knows that they most certainly don't deserve to die. And Frank isn't going to let them. Because he's going to find this person; he's got time now at least, and he can save them, he will save them - Frank promises himself that. But one person in a whole school, it's like a needle in a haystack, but he's got time, it's November 1st in thirty days, and he can only hope that it will be enough. He's got one month: the date is October 1st.

"People are like leaves, they can't stay forever." Pete Wentz knows this. Someone tells him this everyday. Everyday Pete gets a letter from someone he supposedly doesn't know, or at least that's what they say. He knows basically everything about them and he wants to know more, when the letters stop coming. petekeyaf 2015 ©

(Idea I got at three in the morning. Gonna see where it takes me) Thrift Shopping: It's all fun and games until someone gets painted.

The adventures of 'pretty boy' and 'dyke'. The story of the boy with the boobs who can pack a serious punch, and the girl with a dick and her all mighty powerful butt, and just how the two happen to meet and perhaps happen to fall for one another. And the two's battles against dysphoria, the foes of the judgemental gaze of the outside world, and sometimes themselves, sometimes even each other, but in the end, they both know from that very first moment, the first eye contact: it's the two of them against the motherfucking world. (Trans AU, FTM Frank & MTF Gerard)

((Basically this is one big messy gay bandom AU, features just about every ship in the emo trinity and a few more)) Frank is the only gay guy he knows, stuck in the rather restricting and conservative world of Catholic school with his two best friends and their Catholic upbringings, where his daily adrenaline hits come from smoking behind the art block with Jamia, who he reckons is on her path to being the next Lindsay Lohan. But then, things really do change, because perhaps Jamia's matchmaking abilities aren't quite as shitty as Frank reckons, and perhaps this 'social gathering' he's dragged along to, does have some benefit to him after all. And perhaps, Frank will draw a face to the name of Gerard - Mikey's older brother, who really despite living in the same town, is worlds away from the reality Frank's stuck in. And on the subject of the unlikely, will Mikey ever finally figure out that Alicia Simmons really doesn't give a fuck about croquet?

[This fan-fiction is entered in the #Wattys 2014.] Patrick Stump had only wanted two things in the world. To have the looks of his best friend, Pete Wentz, and get noticed by his other best friend and who had to be the longtime girlfriend of Pete, London McKenzie. He had always degraded himself for being this chubby guy who only got noticed in the music industry with the help of Pete, and he had always wanted London to see him as someone more than a best friend. Patrick hated the fact that he was "rotting in the godforsaken hellhole called the 'friend zone'". After knowing about the abrupt end of Pete and London's two-year relationship, Patrick was tempted to make a move on her. He then realized that he would be crossing a line because he could ruin the friendship that he was sharing with the two. He didn't want that to happen. But with London going over at his place to cry over Pete, and with Pete admitting to him that he still had feelings for London, he didn't know what to do anymore. She wasn't even his to miss, anyway. *~* “It’s difficult to fall in love with someone you couldn’t be with because of certain circumstances.” “You? Having problems in getting girls? Oh, come on! You’re famous, talented, sweet and absolutely adorable! I’m sure that you can have any girl you want—” “But I can’t have you, can I?” © Daphne Reyes (conjurethemockingjay), All Rights Reserved 2014

I'm Mikey Way, the grand twenty year old virgin and general klutz when it came to anything vaguely romantic, with a twenty five year old hermit of a brother who only leaves the basement to visit his not quite boyfriend, Frank. I'm also an anti-social mess who's most definitely going to get kicked out of his English course at college by the professor who's more than a little convinced I'm a pyromaniac, unless by some miracle the guy I met at the comic store who wants to suck me off is actually a reincarnation of William Wordsworth. I think Pete may be one of the weirdest people I've ever met, I mean, there are not many people who find amusement in so casually involving blowjobs in their first conversation with you. Pete was a man whore, I thought man whore was a pretty weird term, but I guess Pete was a pretty weird person, so it just sort of fit, like pieces in a puzzle, or a dick in his mouth, apparently. Maybe things would end up with Pete being my friend, or maybe even something more than that, wouldn't that just be... odd? Puzzle pieces, huh? But things are never quite that straight forward, things just love to stray just off the key of reason.