day forty-four.Tuesday, December 20
I was having a perfectly good time watching Tosh.0 with Pumpkin and Boo until suddenly, and I don't even know how this happened, Pumpkin and I got into another argument, and they left my house! They just walked right out! And they even took Boo with them!
They're just trying to deprive me of everything that makes me happy in my life. I know they are!
They just want to see me depressed. Well, that's just fucking fine! Because I am depressed! I haven't felt this way before in my life, and I don't know what to do! I need Pumpkin. I need Boo. But no, they both just walked out of my life!
I'm getting desperate.
Why does Pumpkin hate me so?
I thought they loved me. I love them.
Come back to me, Pumpkin.
Oh, and bring Boo back, too. I know she's fat, and it could be a difficult job, but I really want my baby kitten back.
Word Count: 161.
(OOC: Co-written with: sfregiato.)
The Box.People around the school knew Gerard Way as the creepy guy that dyed his hair a lot.The Box.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
His classmates knew him as the guy who sat in the corner and didn't talk to anybody.
His friends, you could say, knew him as the one that drew amazingly, who was going to make it far in the comic industry.
His brother knew him as the best sibling in the world.
I knew him as my boyfriend.
Notice I say "knew", as in the past tense of "know"?
Well Gerard killed himself a week before our high school graduation.
He, he said the bullying was too much. He said that it's been going on ever since he was fifteenthe year he finally felt proud enough to tell his parents and friends that he was gay.
He said he was glad that the bullying died down for a bit after the "I'm gay" news got around, but it started up again when he was eighteen, when he dyed his hair red.
I tried to tell him he shouldn't care what the others thought, just try to stay strong, and he seemed strong for a long time, but
Headache."I have such a headache."Headache.2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Shut the fuck up, Gerard," my little brother teases from the other side of the tour bus as he types away on his Sidekick.
"How about you stop telling me what to do and just continue sexting with your little boyfriend?" I laugh to myself and get up from the chair I was planted in for the last ten minutes. I sway over to the counter and reach for the coffee machine, but a hand slaps at mine. When I look up, I see Mikey Way.
"Why'd you do that for? Your big bro needs his coffee." I attempt once more to grab at the pot, but Mikey ends up pushing my hand away and knocking me upside the head.
"Your little bro says you drink too much coffee."
I scoff and dust myself off dramatically. "Your big bro says I don't drink too much coffee."
"Your little bro says you have a headache, because you drink too much caffeine."
"Your big bro says it's just caffeine withdrawal, retard." I push him out of the way, making his glasses go askew. I laugh at himall nasally
Creep - FrerardIt wasn't always this way.Creep - Frerard3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'm naturally drawn to beauty. It's something I personally find rare enough to put on a pedestal; that anything beautiful is meant to be examined and admired.
I'm also more curious than a normal person should be. I guess it's in my genes, and that's something I can't necessarily just wash out.
The first time was an accident.
He had to have known his curtains and blinds were wide open, exposing not just a window, but a huge bay window, on the other side of which was his bedroom. It always struck me as odd of someone to require such a large window in the room where the most private things are accomplished. I didn't dwell on it, though. It wasn't the window I found interesting, anyway, but what lay beyond; within, and what I saw.
I had been walking home from my friend Bob's house. It wasn't far from my apartment at all, maybe a few blocks. I usually rode the bus because Bob complained whenever I was late, and walking meant more distractions. T
Dear Gerard from Biology ClassDear Gerard from Biology Class3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Dear Gerard Way from my Biology class,
Oh my God,
Gerard Way, from Biology,
words cannot express my undyingI like you. Hell, I might even be inlove with
love for you
you. Even though I've only spoken to you four times this whole year.
I've been liking you ever since my eyes rested on your soft scalp,
which I have been gazing hopelessly at all year. It's pretty pathetic
Your scalp is beautiful.You're beautiful.
I blame you for making me fail Biology,
your God damn scalp...
I love the way you turn your head and gaze out the window in a drifting
daze, and start biting at your chapped, full lips with boredom.
I can'tEvery movement
blame you, Mr. Jefferson a fucking bore with everything.
is just, alluring.
And when in class, and those times you turn your head so I can see, your eyes
twinkle under the shitty excuse of high quality school lighting. (Ah, bless this
God for your angelic looks
Milk."I miss drinking milk," I softly admit, not wanting him to hear, but he does anyway, and he goes on to laugh at me.Milk.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Seriously, Poison? Out of all the things in the world, you choose to miss milk." He snorts and shakes his head, looking off to the side.
I sink deeper into the diner's roughly cushioned chair, a frown on my face. That's not all I miss, I want to say. I run my fingertips along the table top's surface, my hazel eyes clouding up with tears. One falls out my left eye.
I miss the old you.
Archery.Gerard Way's just a bit violent. That's why he likes playing croquet. He imagines all those little balls are his classmates, and the wickets are rings of fire that smother his peers when they pass.Archery.2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
So, he doesn't miss the chance to sign up for the newest class their private school offersArchery.
He knows he won't be that good at it, but it'll be fun to think about shooting sharp arrows into targets or his classmates.
The only problem is that he doesn't want to sign up by himself. That'll just make him a weirdo.
So, after the final bell rings, he walks out his Biology classroom and heads over to his friend's locker, knowing he'll be stuck in there.
Gerard has to kick at the white piece of shit before it opens, and it reveals his short friend sitting at the bottom of it, his phone in his lap as he taps away. Gerard hears him munching, and he suspects it's the bag of chips he hadn't eaten at lunch.
Gerard lightly knocks on the locker door. His friend doesn't raise his head. "Frank,
First Day.The first time Frank Iero fell in love was in the sandbox.First Day.2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He was only eight at the time, but he knew it was still love. Sure, his hands were covered with dirt, his face was scratched up, and his eyes were red from crying all day, but he knew it was still that wonderful, overwhelming emotion.
He was sitting in the sandbox at his elementary school, the sand and other materials covering him from head to toe. Maybe that's why he was crying, but it was so long agohe can't remember now.
It was late at nightwell, late to an eight-year-old, so it was only around five. It was chilly outsideit only being around twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and he wasn't wearing a sweaterand Frank trusted the sand in this small box to hold him through the night.
His parents had gotten mad at him that morning when they woke up and stepped in a puddle of puppy piss. They told him they wouldn't pick him up from school, because he was a bad boy for not letting the dog out last night. He
Wax.Frank Iero makes Voo-Doo dolls whenever he feels lonely.Wax.2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Today, he decides to make one of his ex-boyfriendthe stupid bastard that decided to cheat on him and knock a girl up. Frank recalls she was in a shitty band.
He stares at the surface of his desk and grabs a handful of melted candle wax. His ex always liked to burn candles when they were intimate. Frank liked that about him.
He smashes the pieces of wax together and shapes his former lover. It looks exactly like him.
He ends up making two more dollsone of the girl he cheated with and one of a little baby girl.
Later that night, he lights a candle and throws the dolls in. As they melt, he can hear little screams.
Frank wakes up the next morning to find the doll of his ex half-burnt, and he wonders why it didn't demolish completely. The others did. He doesn't bother it, thoughjust continues on with his day.
When he goes into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee, the doorbell to his little home rings. He begin
Frerard - RosesI was four years old when my parents took me and my brother to a party. It was for adults; There were almost no kids to play with, there weren't clowns, there weren't even balloons. Well, clowns anyway were scary for me. It was a little boring, since my mom had my little brother with her almost all the time, being a baby. I had to stay in a little place they had for kids, with some toys. It was then when another kid arrived. He looked like he was my age, and had hazel eyes too. His mother told him something, before she left him. He sat at my side, getting me confused.Frerard - Roses3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Hi" he said, with a smile. At least he was not shy, like me.
"Hi" I greeted back, and we stayed quiet a little.
"My name is Frank what's your name?" he asked me, and I could feel his curiosity in me as he looked at me with his always present smile. The music the adults had was a little annoying, but they seemed to enjoy it while dancing. My parents were talking and laughing with other people on a big table, though.
Drunk - FrerardRight now I'm at a bar after a concert my band, My Chemical Romance, had just finished. We all decided to go out and celebrate just because. Ray was chatting with Bob. Mikey was somewhere on the dance floor. And Gerard was at the bar, ordering alcohol, his weakness.Drunk - Frerard3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I smiled and decided to seat myself next to him. He's always funny when he's drunk. And it doesn't take much to get him drunk since he's such a light weight with it. Which is weird considering how much he actually does drink.
"Hey Gee." I said while plopping down on the stool next to him.
"Whoaaaaaaaaa...Hey Frankie baaaaaaby" He slurred putting an arm around my neck.
"Drunk I see?" I giggled.
"Pshaw, I'm completely sober." He emphasized.
"Sure you are..." I was trying to stiffle my laugh.
"Don't you sass me you...you elf."
"Elf?" I questioned.
"Yeah. You're an elf. I know because you're this big." Then he put his hand in the air showing me how tall he thought I was.
"I'm not THAT short." I said pouting playfully.
Squeak :Frerard: Squeak...Squeak :Frerard:2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Squeak. Squeak, squeak
"Geez, this f---king bed needs fixed or something, it's annoying!" Gerard muttered angrily to himself, changing positions in an attempt to become comfortable while doodling. His pencil trailed across the page, making dark lines that contrasted with the pure white of the page, "Ugh!" Squeak, squeak.
Gerard adjusted his position, now leaning on his left elbow. He erased a line quickly, making the bed squeak with the fast movements of his arm. He frowned, making a growling sound. The squeaky springs in his bed were becoming increasingly bothersome to him. How could he possibly draw something good when he was being distracted by that constant squeaking?
Gerard looked up, still frowning slightly, then let his expression lighten when he saw his brother standing in his doorway, "Yeah?"
Mikey pointed a thumb behind him, "Your boyfr
I'm in Love with a Skeleton.He looks very sickly.I'm in Love with a Skeleton.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
His once healthy glow of faint pale skin is now broken, fragile, and yet, still pale. His lips are thin and as white as his skin. They're dry no matter how long or often he brings his pink tongue across them. They're cracked nowlittle snippets of blood are dropping out of those fragile lips. The only thing that stands out from his pale face are his big, identical as mine, yet deeper, hazel eyes. They're bigger than usual, and they have a mixture of gray and purple shadows around the outline. The whites of his eyes are a fading yellow now.
His once healthy sandy-brown hair is gone. His pale scalp is now visible since his hair had fallen out a couple months ago.
His whole body is pale, just like his face and head. He's really skinnyI mean, he was before, but now it's just ridiculous. I shouldn't be saying that. It's not his fault he lost all this weight.
It's not his fault he got cancer.
My eyes travel down his thin body, seeing how each and every
All Was Golden in the Sky.There's a young teenAll Was Golden in the Sky.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
that goes by the name
He has a head full of long black hair that
makes him resemble a girl.
His parents are ashamed of his looks,
at how their only son should have been their only daughter.
So, they lock him up in his room,
make him stay on the balcony
while they host a party downstairs.
Frank's a bright boy,
and he figures out a way to get past his parents' ways.
He would climb down the wall beside his balcony
and sneak in the party that way.
He always dreamt of going to one of his parents' parties.
He had heard that they were glorious,
decorated in the finest of objects that could
make anyone gaze in awe.
Frank wants to see it,
and he's going to tonight.
So, he dresses in his cleanest dress clothes
just a simple white collared shirt,
a red tie,
and the black skinny jeans his parents loath.
He weaves up a colorful mask full of black feathers
to match his hair.
He holds it in two hands,
guides it to his face,
and jumps off the balcony.
He slips between
Tickle TortureTickle Torture2 years ago in Romance More Like This
I gripped his hand between my fingers. I was so nervous, my palms clammy, but it was worth having his touch. A smile brightened our faces as out lips collided, a kiss, soft and quick. My cheeks reddened anyways. We giggled at the tiny fireworks that filled our stomachs, they were just another thing we could share, another thing we had in common. I never wanted to let go of his hand. Maybe I wouldn't. I bit my lip in shyness, trying to hide my blushing face in my shoulder.
His hand cupped under my chin. "You're beautiful, Franky," he smiled. I felt my insides melt, a warmth drip into my insides. I tried to hold back my goofy smile, but it forced its way out while I crinkled my nose. He chuckled cutely, place a small kiss on my cheek. Oh god, let this last forever! He ran his fingers across my shoulder blade and up my neck. I felt tiny trembles. Then he did something weird.
"What are you doing?" I asked, soft and curious. He pouted slightly, looking at me. "You're not ticklish?" he asked
MCR: Gestures.It began with a gesture, and a rude gesture at that, to tell me that all of my previous thoughts had been wrong. I always figured that Frank Iero was a faggot. The clothes, the make-up, the way he acted around his friends well, it all screamed gay to me.MCR: Gestures.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Of course, high school boys will be boys, running around and acting like they're faggots to get a laugh out of everybody. Frank Iero was one of those boys. He was practically the main one they all went to, hoping to get a quick laugh out of the other students. Picking people up, holding them, humping their backs, and cupping their asses, well, Frank was an expert at that. So, it wasn't my fault he liked to mislead others; besides, I was one of his frequent victims of these random acts.
But, relying on my observations and my undeniable feelings, I went up to him after school, all the while trying to quiet down my beating heart. I leaned against the locker beside his own, staring at him, my bag over my shou
The Kiss - FrerardI was giving all my effort in my guitar, as usual while playing 'You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prision'. It was Ray's guitar solo at the moment, so I took a break from playing. Then I noticed Gerard strutting over to me and grabbing the back of my head, forcing me to kiss him.The Kiss - Frerard3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I was surprised, obviously, but kissed back right away. His tounge pushed it's way into my mouth, exploring it fully. I could barely battle for dominence, because he was winning. I wrapped an arm around his waist and let my other arm fall from my guitar.
And then I remember we were on stage. I stopped kissing him and he pushed me away from him, and continued singing like nothing happened. I shook everything from my head and went on playing.
----Fast forward to after the show----
We were all really sweaty because the show had just finished. It actually looked like we had just showered, especially me. I don't know why but I'm always the one to emerge the most drenched in sweat. Gerard was always second.
MCR: Perfect.MCR: Perfect.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He was told he wasn't perfect.
And after years and years of ridicule and judgment, he started to believe them.
He'd spend hours in front of the mirror, poking at the fatty areas on his stomach, the disgusting parts on his thighs, and the flabby skin on his arms.
He hated it all, and he couldn't understand why his imperfectionshis flawswouldn't leave him alone.
He'd done all the right things.
He'd, sorta, eat healthy. Well, healthier than he was eating before.
He'd purged at all the right times.
He'd known when to starve himself to the point right before his body went into starvation mode. He hadn't wanted that. He'd heard you actually gained weight whenever that happened.
He hadn't understood why he was being punished.
Had he done something wrong?
Had something made his techniques become ineffective?
He had wanted the answers, and he had wanted them now.
He had wanted to be perfect, wanted to be up to their standards.
He'd do everything they had
Notebook .:Frerard Oneshot:. I had always carried this notebook around with me everywhere. I kept it with me in case something interesting happened around me, or if I get a sudden urge to draw and I didn't have my sketchpad on me. This notebook could easily reflect my life in high school...although not all of it was just me. My best friend in the whole world, Frank would sometimes 'borrow' my notebook and make a silly doodle or write me a private message or something. Frank was the only one who ever saw my notebook's contents. Even my little brother, Mikey never read it.Notebook .:Frerard Oneshot:.2 years ago in Drama More Like This
But I had a different notebook that only I saw; a journal of sorts. It had my deepest darkest secret in it. There was no way in hell that anyone would ever read it because it was disguised as the novel Twilight. Not a single person that knew me would go within ten feet of that book because we all hated it.
Frank and I were practically joined at the hip. We wouldn't go anywhere without asking if the other could come along.
The Fun Of Math - FrerardThe Fun Of Math - Frerard2 years ago in Romance More Like This
He stares blankly at the empty paper, his brain having stopped functioning ten minutes ago, after wrecking his brain for at least twenty minutes.
His teacher had ordered the class to give their desk partners, a new math problem every day for them to solve, and then have them check if they got it right the next day and give each other grades. Probably just so she wouldn't have to give them any homework herself seeing as it would mean actual work, he thinks bitterly. They don't even have project week as her excuse is.
Luckily he is sitting next to his friend, so the pressure isn't as big if he fails to create a fairly hard assignment. The fact that he just so happens to be in love with his friend is slightly putting him off though, seeing as he would be too distracted by staring hopelessly at him, to notice what was happening in class. So he totally blames his friend for being bad at math.
Half an hour later his mother is helping him, so he could finally go to sleep.
The next day
Pajamas - FrerardSometimes, strange things happen around our tour bus.Pajamas - Frerard2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Living on tour is never boring.
Okay, yeah, sometimes it is boring.
But what I mean is it's interesting. The four of us each have our own respective personalities, and living together on a bus is like throwing those personalities into a blender on puree and then voila! You have a strange blend of zany, chaotic, activity and muddled body clocks, weird smells, and a lot of coffee.
It's difficult to have very much privacy or breathing space, no matter what bus upgrade we've earned this time around. For example, when someone (Ray) falls asleep on the couch in the lounge, there is absolutely nowhere to sit unless you fancy being sardined in your bunk for the time said person is snoozing the day away.
Then there's the bathroom, which is a toxic gas chamber, especially when the catering menu offers Mexican food. I swear it needs to be fumigated before I will ever go in there other than to take an emergency shower
Owl."Look! An owl just flew by."Owl.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He grinds my hips into the sand, pressing his mouth to my ear. His hot breath attacks the brim. "I swear I just saw it."
My lips tremble. "You're lying. They're all gone."
His tongue attaches to my neck, licking up the sweat. It swirls around my ear lobe as his hands lay on my sides, pressing my belly closer to the ground. "Why would I lie?"
My breath catches in my throat when I hear a small hooting sound come from above us.
Poison softly chuckles. "I wouldn't lie to you."
MCR: Broken Glass.A crash rang throughout the hotel. The four men in the room weren't surprised at all. They knew this sound too well by nowit was caused by one of their own, after all. A mousey-haired boy raised up his head, nose scrunched up, causing his glasses to press against the bridge of his nose.MCR: Broken Glass.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The other three nodded; no shock or disbelief was on their faces.
"Should we go check on him?"
The others shook their heads, lowering them. One nibbled on his lip, narrowing his eyes. He found the fact that nobody was going to check on the other quite angering.
"We have to help him."
A blonde looked over at the one that had spoken, a look of confusion on his face.
"Why? He did this to himself. We don't have to help him at all."
He glared at the blonde, rolling his eyes. "I'm being serious, Bob."
"I am, too."
"He could you know."
Bob looked over at the other, shaking his head. "He's not gonna die, Frank. God."
"I never said he was going to. I said he could. Learn to listen. God."
Gym ClassGym Class3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Frank Iero screamed as the red ball flew towards him, he heard the mocking voices of the other gym students, the snickers; these were the noises he'd been followed by his entire life. As soon as the foam ball hit his chest, he knew something was wrong. The ball was stuffed with rocks. Some jerk had poked a hole in the dodge ball, and took out the original soft insides, replacing them with heavy pebbles.
The breath was knocked right out of him and he was knocked to the ground where he lay gasping, the ball a deadweight on his chest, pinning him down, completely at the mercy of the other teens in the gym. Frank squirmed, but found that he still couldn't get up, and he felt tears running down his cheeks as the face of the coach loomed next to his and the teacher growled, "Get up, fag."
He whimpered and tried to get to his feet again, failing miserably.
"Fine then, Iero, guess I'll just go and get coffee now, hmm?" The coach sneered and walke
Frerard- Paper TonguesIt started out simple enough. He was just that kid on the bus, riding to God knows where doing God knows what. Well, I say kid, but he couldn't have been only three years younger than me.Frerard- Paper Tongues2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Every day, bright and early, I'd get on the bus and there he was, big skeleton hoodie, lip ring and black hair. At the time, he was a pretty average kid. He probably was to everyone else too- how should I know?
I never asked where he was going. Never asked if he was a student, if he had a dog or a home, a cute girl. None of it. And he didn't ask, either. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard him say a word. For the most part he just listened to his iPod, loud enough for me to hear every curse and every guitar solo. I'll admit, he had taste.
Whatever form of relationship we had, saying it was a little awkward would be an understatement. At least, in the beginning. Once we had a sort of routine down, one would smile at the other and we'd sit next to each other. But... Beyond that? Nothing. Zip. Nada.