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.

((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?

Gerard draws dicks for a living. Frank takes them. Gerard Way moves into a new apartment in a dodgy complex where he's bound to get beaten to a pulp after his old place is set on fire by those damned 'youths', and by a certain turn of events, his neighbour, the equally provocative, yet entirely in a different way, Frank Iero, ends up in his bed, and then, everything just really goes to shit.

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.

Frank is a hopelessly short, hopelessly desperate, and just generally hopeless highschooler, whose only friend is the amazingly tall kid with the 'fro: Ray Toro. School is mundane, school is just, well, school: Lindsey Ballato is a goddess, Pete Wentz is a MySpace whore, and Brendon Urie totally deserved getting kicked in the balls last summer, but then Mikey fucking Way turns up and before Frank knows it he's over at the Way household and swooning over an unfairly hot older brother who has totally just made out with an overly casual Lindsey Ballato. And that's not even to mention Gerard's past and sort of ex-boyfriend Bert McCracken who he kind of did, kind of didn't leave in the old town he and Mikey just moved from, but what is for sure is that Gerard Way can't help but stare at Mikey's sort of best friend, Frank, just a little too much. But Gerard is older and sort of world's away from Frank's league: he's like Lindsey Ballato - unobtainable and godly, and most definitely a member of the elite sex club that Frank reckons Lindsey's involved in. And this elite club of people who've seen Gerard Way naked? Let's say, Frank Iero wants in... to Gerard's pants. However Mikey thinks that it's less of a club and more of a support group.

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.

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)

*Co-written with MyChemicalRachel* Frank is a student at university of south florida, living in a dorm all by himself. on a hot sleepless night, frank decides to go on twitter and pass the time going through his feed. he notices the account of a comic artist from new york and decides to find out more about this guy. but what happens when he gets more information than he was ready for?

[This is the sequel to Tell Me I'm A Bad Man, it's not a necessity to read that first, but you probably should] Frank was under the impression that as soon as he'd graduated and moved to New York with Gerard, everything would be, well, perfect. Though he wasn't completely naïve - he knew that the presence of Gerard's apparently suicidal ex-boyfriend was going to make things difficult, but he didn't know that his intense distrust of the man would start to break down the relationship he'd tried so hard to keep. And then lies upon lies upon lies from everybody start to build, until nobody's sure of the truth anymore. Six months isn't long, but it's enough. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- [sexual content, may be triggering for some individuals]

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)