Gerard was late, and it was fucking raining. He'd missed the bus and it was fucking raining, and he was totally going to get dropped from the play if he was late again and he was so fucking screwed, but honestly Gerard wasn't all that keen on it when he'd heard the only main part he'd managed to get in this damn theatre group was of a fucking crossdresser. For someone who was supposed to be in the closet, he was doing an awfully bad job of it. Frank Iero was Gerard's favourite punk ass skater dickhead, that he was currently working on eternally denying to himself the crush he had on Frank, which totally didn't exist of course, but Frank was really cute, and Gerard was really stupid; stupid enough to think that he could totally pull off pretending to be a girl in order for heterosexual Frank Iero to fall for him. Surely, this was truly the worst idea Gerard Way has ever had.

They were murdered, they were attacked and now they're dead. That's all Frank knows about his parents - gone before he'd even had chance to miss them, and it was fucking with his head. The police reckoned that moving away, to rural New Jersey with his grandparents would help him cope with the loss, but even Frank knew that they couldn't be more than wrong, because despite the dull sleepy atmosphere of the town, there was something unidentifiable yet impossibly unnerving about the place, and really, perhaps was safer in his parents home than he ever was here. And there's something physically wrong too - a figure that lurks in the smoke, fog, and shadows - a silhouette the deepest black he'd ever seen, the kind that brought an unsettling feeling to Frank's stomach, and really Frank's wasn't one to be overly twitchy about things like this, but from the moment he first met him, he could never shake the feeling that the figure was always following him. And perhaps, he was. (Vampire!Gerard)

don't ask

My random crackfic what am I doing with my life

Sherlock takes care of John when he is sick. ~WARNING~ XXX Smut, not for under 18s

John is devastated by his best friend and secret love, Sherlock's death. He copes by visiting his grave every day for sixty days. Will this be closure enough, or will John need more to know that Sherlock has heard his words?

Love is as simple as this. It's pain, hardships and deceit... but it's beautiful. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are the two boys who star in this story, who don't quite understand what love really is. Love isn't kind, it isn't selfless, it doesn't really care. But sometimes, it makes exceptions. Love is confusing, but it's the price to pay. Because not knowing love, is their innocence. *** #314 in Fanfiction 10/8/15