Frank Iero has just started work at Glenside Mental Institute, New Jersey. All seems easy enough, until he's assigned to the new patient, Gerard Way. [only read if you canstand chapters shorter than frank himself]

Frank Iero has been picked on everyday in and out of school since he first came in seventh grade. He gets called all the same insults that he did in Maine before he moved. 'Faggot' 'Retard' 'Sinner' it never changes, and neither does he. But.... What if his bully does? !!!!Trigger Warning!!!! Contains self harm and suicide attempts!!!!

Gerard Way was a hopeless writer who suffered through his job at a high school just to pay the bills. Then Gerard has accident, that may or may have not been an accident... He dies... Just not entirely... His life turns into one of his very own books where he's stuck in the little place between life and death, and Frank, a student from the English class he teaches, may be the only one that can help him get out of the in-between.

“Love’s like a bullet. It’s fast. It’s furious. Sometimes you can’t see it coming. You can run from it. But you can’t dodge it. Unless someone stands in your way…” Growing up, Callie Tollson had always admired her older brother, Clay, for being exactly who he wanted to be…despite the consequences he faced doing so. With their roles reversed, Callie had always been the one to stand up for Clay when he was in harm’s way. She always thought this was enough. She thought she was able to protect him. That is until he turned the tables and unleashed harm back on those who had done it to him. She couldn’t understand why, being the one who stood up for him the most, she was the one he picked as the receiver for the final bullet in his gun. Now she’s the most feared girl in school with a haunting family tie to keep her stuck in the halls of Riverton High. As she tries to survive the rest of her junior year as the sister of the boy who brought a gun to school, she soon realizes she owes nothing to the boy who turned on her and everything to the boy who saved her life.

A tribute of sorts towards a band that inspired thousands.

Alex is a troublemaker, yet he doesn't want to be. It's just that when people get too close, or too personal for his comfort, he snaps. Events of his past have left him afraid of almost any physical contact, and other people in general. He's trying to mend his broken life, and is offered a fresh start after being expelled from his last school. Jack, on the other hand, is depressed. He feels worthless, like a waste of life and space, and has just about the lowest self-esteem possible. He's searching for the affection and comfort he so desperately needs. The meet at a bus stop one day, but are torn apart when Alex has to suddenly run off, without even giving the boys a chance to exchange names. Half a year later, the pair is reunited, when Jack is assigned to be Alex's tour guide on his first day at Dulaney High. Their feelings for one another quickly grow, though they're confused about where, exactly, the relationship is headed. Can the two boys help each other? Are they enough?

Description: Frank goes to babysit Mikey one night. What he doesnt realise is that Mikey has a brother too. A hot older one at that... Frerard

If it wasn't for one faulty clasp, Jack Barakat and Alex Gaskarth would have been nothing more than another one night stand to each other. If Jack hadn't been rushing to college, they never would have met properly in the daylight. If Alex hadn’t had to get to work early, they never would have fallen for one another. If the pendant hadn’t caught the light, they never would have torn each other apart. But on that day, late January, that seemingly insignificant piece of metal did break. Jack was late. Alex was forced to be early. The sun shone at the right angle. And that made all the difference.

What is the best way to keep a secret? "Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding" - Lemony Snicket. It turned out that Snicket was painfully correct. By the time I reached P.E. after lunch on Monday, it was tipping over the edge of eighty degrees, and my red hoodie had been stuffed in the back of my locker since Brunch. I'd lost count of how many people had gaped at my arm with shocked expressions and open mouths, curious voices unsure of whether or not they wanted to know the answer asking, "Did you cut your arm?" By third period, I'd gotten so fucking sick of repeating the same excuse that my sarcastic asshole side had leaked out. So, I'd been responding to my classmates appalled questions with something along the lines of, "Yes, I cut myself." There was a kind of sick humor to it - technically, I was telling the truth. Not that anyone would ever know it. Cover cred to RazorbladeKissesx