Four years, many exes, a couple of albums, a band split and a band hiatus... a lot has happened since Ryan Ross walked away from Panic! At The Disco. Trying to get lost and forget his feelings for Brendon Urie isn't a walk in the park. So when he comes back to right some wrongs and hope to mend the bridges he burned, is four years enough time for them to make amends - or further their problems?

The story I'm going to tell you may starts a bit different than usual. It starts with a dead person. The poor boys heart just stopped beating. And at that young age, only 11 years old. The things he could've done in life, uncountable. At that age you don't know who you are, who you'll be and with whom. You can achieve anything you can dream of, write your book to its last page. This boy could barely write chapter one. No one should be in his situation. An innocent child, who's body wasn't even found. Murder? Suicide? An accident? No one knows it, except me. Because well, I'm the dead boy.

spencer smith gave brendon urie the wrong number, causing brendon to talk to someone and finds out who they are in two weeks. (yes i am aware than ryden isn't official i just think its cute and wanted to make a fic abt it) ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ⁴.¹.¹⁹ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉᵈ ³.²¹.²⁰

Twenty five year old cult leader, Ryan Ross is mystified when a lawyer named Brendon Urie comes over to his town, where he rules supreme and talks to him about being sued by a man named Patrick Stump. Meanwhile, Frank Iero and Gerard Way are attempting to get married in Rossville. They can't get married because they assume that it's because they're gay, it's actually because Ryan is a lazy asshole. Mikey is trying to help Pete and Patrick sue Ryan so that his brother can get married, Ryan would get fined, and he would have to leave. Then the town would have no leader and his brother could finally get married and get the fuck out of the house.

"you look lost." »»» pete takes a road trip across america for one reason and one reason only; to finally be alone. »»» "and, christ, it's raining..." »»» and yet, when he picks up a scrawny hitchhiker with a crooked smile and an impressive CD collection, he starts to change his mind. »»» "do you need a ride?" »»» but there's so much more to the story. »»» "hop in." #2 in PETEKEY #3 in FOB by wesley tyler (he/they)

1920s AU Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III is the leader of the famous mafia group "The Fall Outs". They are known for their attacks and murders on the higher class people, they are planning to become the highest, most feared gang of all time. Gerard Way, is the leader of the opposing group "The Black Parade". He needs someone to infiltrate The Fall Outs hideout. He has no other choice but to send out his own brother, Michael Way, out into the field. WARNING: Blood, Gore, Death, Suicide attempts, possible smut

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.

(written in 2016) 2016/01/20 Sunday. If you really want to know about me, this first thing you'd want to read is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and what my parents did in their spare time before they had me, and all that John Green kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you really want to know the truth. In fact, I'd much rather start of by saying that my name is Mikey Way and I spend at least 16 hours a day of my life sitting in a wheelchair. I'd also like to let everyone here know that they are under no obligation to read my blog but I am under obligation to write it. On account of the fact that my therapist thinks I'm John Watson or some crap. Regardless, here I am, pretending to have something to say about how my day went even though if anyone asked I would say that I was fine. Because that's just what you're supposed to say instead of saying that it's cold and miserable and if you died you wouldn't really mind. But I'll post this anyway while pretending to think that anyone will read it.

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