The Marauders are starting their fifth year at Hogwarts; Remus is starting with a massive scar across his face - a byproduct of the increasing severity of his furry little problem, which is a definite cause for concern despite his insistence that it it's fine. Sirius is starting with the memories of a certain morning at 12 Grimmauld Place in August: memories that he might not ever forget, yet is desperate to cloak underneath the facade that every is fine at home and that he and his parents just sometimes encounter minor disagreements. James is starting his fifth year, yes, but more importantly, he is starting phase five of his plan to woo Lily Evans: somehow his friends seem doubtful that he might succeed, but James, being James, is in no lack of confidence. And Peter, well, Peter is starting to wonder just why he puts up with these people, and if he should really be feeling sorry for Lily Evans, and maybe if he should have asked to have been sorted into Hufflepuff.

Best story ever 11/10

Frank is an emo piece of shit who needs to get a grip on life. Gerard is an edgy fuckboy with totally not infected stretched ears and an obsession with writing shit poetry, also all he listens to is Neck Deep and Front Porch Step because they understand his inner angst and how he really is, and all that One Direction on his iPod, totally his Mikey's. And of course, they fucking hate each other. And of course, they're paired up together in English for a class project on Romeo and Juliet. Mikey is a Larry conspiracy theorist, he would compare his need for Larry to his need for oxygen, and if given a choice between the two we all know which one he'd pick. He is however gay and very open minded and generally kind to everyone, except Gryles shippers, of course. Pete is Mikey's best friend. They're sweet little dudes, and have been best friends since they were about six. They're both equally in love with One Direction and Pete doesn't even mind when Mikey talks for like three hours about Harry's dreamy eyes. Pete, however, perhaps, maybe has this little tiny crush on Mikey, which he considers to be the end of the world, however it's not that which leaves Mikey ignoring him for weeks. It's not even his shitty youtube channel with about 6 subscribers. Brendon is openly gay, big foreheaded, and big headed in general. The guy also loves 5SOS, like seriously he's the worst person in the world. He's about seven thousand miles up his own ass and thinks he's Tyler Oakley. He's also totally not fucking Ryan Ross, like seriously, wow that Brian Moss guy? Brendon doesn't even fucking know him, and he already knows he's an asshole. Ryan Ross is straighter than like a straight line. Ryan Ross is the epitome of no homo, and he's totally not getting off with Brendon Urie, because like he doesn't even know that guy - who the fuck is Breadbin Urine anyway? He smokes weed and generally has such a hard life as a 'straight' cis white boy with a secret weakness for John Green.

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.

alright so before you call me a stealer i am NOT @PotatoYoghurt gave me this fic bc there was this whole poll thing and ya so basically i am continuing it get rdy kids

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.

Frank is twenty eight: he's mentally stable for the most part, and well nobody has to know about pills he takes twice a day, do they? He's normal now, he's a person now, he's a fucking adult with an office job and he fucking hates it and that's fine, because he got out of the mental hospital three years ago, and these past three years of mundane nothingness have been the best three years of his life. Ten years ago, or so, Frank was in love with a boy called Gerard with fiery red hair and the personality of a switchblade knife, and ten years ago that boy called Gerard had killed himself. Frank still saw him though: hallucinations, as he knew them to be now, and it took him years in a hospital he never thought he'd get out of to convince himself of his newfound sanity, but he was okay now. Twenty eight year old Frank Iero had been officially 'okay' since he was twenty five. He hadn't seen Gerard again, and he didn't even think about the guy - he was just normal, and he was almost painfully content with being the secretary to someone with a five figure salary. But of course, on one fateful morning in December, that has to go and change, doesn't it? (Technically a sequel to Summertime, but I wouldn't say you need to have read Summertime to understand and enjoy this)