#Happy fuck you gerard friday

[cloama]

MMATA covered the song from Freaky Friday on their new album. It's cute. The lead, Edith Victoria always has lots of personality but she needs some harmony help in these verses. Why we gotta wait for the chorus to get harmony? ETA: Iwas listening to this on headphones that were about to die. The quality was terrible. This song sounds great upon a second listen. I heard lots of background work. Sorry, babes.

The whole album is really fun and cute. It is full of breakup songs. Wasn't expecting that.

Love the bridge of Say it(to my face). She sounds like a punky lil angel there. It's also fun to see them get back at haters with an undeniable hit song.

The chorus of Kool is so chaotic. Why are you saying it like that?????? But the song with its very obvious Brainstew influence is just fun. They're wild for that one. Also Edith showing yall that she actually a mf vocalist. Bc that chorus be taking my lungs out. Yes, by the end I was singing it too. Very fun. Very silly.

Tea plays her ass off but I'm not hearing the shredding as much in this project. She's really restrained here but the parts shes writing a good. So solid. I kind of want her to compose for others. Similarly, Ava's feet aren't as heavy on the pedals this go round. It seems they've made a choice. It's fine. They get to do that. But choosing to leave that calling card off an album that's 50% breakup songs is a choice. Tea used to be fucking it up in the background. Just shredding her way through the verses which worked because there aren't a lot of bg vocals. Not singing backup as strongly, her playing made up for that. I miss it. I also miss Ava's heavy ass drumming. It's all really different on here. I need to find some interviews about this project. Need to know what went into these choices. I still really like what theyre doing. Young adult audiences should be in love with them.

After all that fun up top the albums takes TMI and Same Language into what I call the Frustration Break. A couple songs about mfs working on your nerves. They're cute songs but feel like a lull. It works because the choruses are so good and you feel relieved by the end of that chunk of songs. Also a-capella handclap breaks are my weakness.

A Few Tomorrows is the bittersweet midtempo song about how it's not goodbye, only a "see you later" which is placed in the right order because literally the rest of the album after this track is backloaded with breakup up songs.

Need Me(my favorite track of this album) is an upbeat breakup bop. Cute. MMATA has a gift for making songs you want to sing along to. Lyrics tho. The simplicity is good but I've seen the pen push harder.

This is where I noticed their hardcore influence is not present at all in this album. Poof. Gone. Aww.

It's Over for Me is another breakup song. Track sequencing is winning big. Love when songs are in correct order. This track is not as strong as Need Me. I would have left this one off the project.

Thx for Nothing is the last breakup bop in this chunk of songs. This girl is going through it. Very 5sos. I say this as a 34 year old who barely knows what a 5sos is. Oh and that main guitar part sounds like what i can only describe as family reunion music. Real ones know.

Rocket science is another optimistic bop taking us to the end of this album but the song is full of phrases from those Hang In There posters. It's cute. It's giving Disney Knees. Edith who usually enunciates to a fault just stops doing that. "Everything is possible" turns into "ennythahggihhhpohhhiiiubbboool" and I cant state enough that I loved that. The Gerard of it all.

King of Everything: lament about life being so unnecessarily hard and wanting a do-over. Hard relate. Don't love the melody as much as the others. Not a happy ending to the album but a resolution for sure. I think the last two songs should have been switched but they said what they said.

3.5 out of 5 stars to Meet Me @ the Altar for their sophomore long playing album. The sequencing of tracks is so strong. A lost art these days. The tracks work together to take your through a bunch of highs and lows then sticks the landing with that final track. The album is good at exactly what it set out to do. That's all I ask. Miss that hard playing tho. I'm sure the live shows will fill that gap.

[kaizsche]

the klena theatre au! no one asked for

happy friday! here's another klena wip of mine, inspired by continuously watching the phantom of the opera's point of no return.

Today was supposed to be a good day. A great day. 

Well, at least, according to that fortune teller they’ve visited last week, Elena’s going to have her big break in the coming weeks. She never believed in tarot reading or anything about divination. It’s her fault she allowed herself to hope that finally her talents would soon become recognized by the Director.

“This is bullshit.” Caroline squints her eyes, blonde curls in a frenzy as she weaves past the other members of the company. Trailing after her is Bonnie, who’s clearly not in a better mood than their blonde friend. A skittish Elena is close behind, head hung low and mentally preparing herself for the worst. 

At the front of the board is Hayley Marshall and her minions, gaping, worshipping, praising and congratulating her for snagging the role of Christine Daaé–yet another big role in her long list. Their chatter stops short however, at the sight of Caroline Forbes glaring fiery daggers at the white sheet of paper glued on the bulletin board. 

Groaning, she flips the pages over and over again. “Seriously? Again?!” 

“An understudy. Is this a fucking joke?” Echoes Bonnie beside her. “Didn’t Director Lockwood promise to have you cast as Christine?”

Elena remembers waking the girls up late at night, screaming at them over the phone and gushing about how Director Carol Lockwood told her that she’s considering her for the role but instead, her name’s right next to Hayley with the word understudy emphasizing the change. 

“‘S okay,” Is Elena’s sound of defeat, though she tries her best not to show it too much, waving her hands wildly in the air, “It wasn’t guaranteed that I’d get the role anyways.”

As if to flaunt her win, Hayley’s cronies exclaims in unison,“Hayley!!!! I know it’s your dream to get casted as Christine, I’m so proud of you, congratulations!” Followed by another obnoxious gasp, she deliberately jabs a finger at the two lines above her, “And OMG! You’re partners with Klaus Mikaelson and Stefan Salvatore?!”

The Phantom of the Opera……………Niklaus Mikaelson(*) Understudy: Marcel Gerard

Viscount Raoul de Chagny……………Stefan Salvatore(*) Understudy: Tyler Lockwood

Caroline makes a show of bunching her sleeves to her shoulders when the stars of the show appear, Klaus and Stefan walking side by side clearly in the know of their casting, sparing not so much as a glance at the list but Stefan does pause in his steps to stare at the commotion and finding Elena in the midst of it all lifts a hand to wave at her in greeting.

Making use of the situation, Hayley inserts herself in between the duo, hand outstretched to offer a polite greeting. “Hi, Stef!”

Klaus looks up, his clear blue eyes boring into her own. He studies her wobbling lips and her clenched fists. A deep frown decorates his features as he shifts his gaze towards the bulletin board and back at her, taking a step forward if not for Hayley’s interference.

“Hey, Nik.”

Elena turns, tugging Caroline and Bonnie by the cuff of their shirt and whisks them away from the scene. He watches as the doors swallow her inside, his mind churning before inevitably and quite regretfully acknowledging Hayley.

“Klaus will have to suffice. I believe we are not well acquainted enough for nicknames, Miss Marshall.” He gives her a forced smile, shoving Stefan forward to resume their conversation leaving behind a seething Hayley.

[ieropilled]

I just think its funny how

[newtonsheffield]

Anthony in Good girls picking Neddy from school? Can we see it?? Pleasee?

Hmmmm I'm just in a good girls kind of mood

Kate Bridgerton wasn't an idiot. Despite what Edwina would have you believe. She knew that her husband... even before he was her husband had always been a little... hot. He was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. His arms were tight bands of muscle, his chest broad, long hair, the scruff of his beard, an air of self confidence that tied everything together in an absolutely... delicious package that honestly had Kate very glad she'd scooped him up when they'd been eighteen and so unsure of themselves. She wasn't actually sure she'd have been able to do it now.

Everything about him made her spiral out of control until she found herself dragging him from the room until her hips locked around his waist and his teeth nipped at her throat and his name was on her lips and it was... insane. And it had only gotten worse since they'd had Edmund. She'd thought she'd found Anthony attractive before, she knew she had, but jesus. fucking. christ. Seeing Anthony with their child made her burn for him.

From the second he'd been born Anthony had fallen so deeply in love with their child, with her all over again that it caught in her throat. She saw him go to work twice a week with Neddy strapped to his chest, saw him gently holding his hand, crowing delightedly as Edmund ate his swede and carrot mash Neddy you are going to be such a big strong boy! Princess! Neddy's the best eater there is I'm sure of it! She couldn't take it. Everything about him standing in his leather jacket, the floral shirt open nearly to his navel, his dark sunglasses covering his eyes, ripped jeans was so absolutely fucking... daddy. And she wasn't the only person who noticed it.

Wasn't the only person who noticed that Anthony loved his son, and it seemed to have a certain... effect on women, well, honestly, anyone interested in men. And obviously she noticed the slight sigh that her son's daycare teachers gave when they noticed her walking through the front door with a wistful Say hi to Anthony for us. And of course, Anthony had no idea.

Smiling happily as he brought Edmund home, "Everyone's so friendly!"

And it wasn't even that Kate was jealous, truly it made something ridiculously smug settle in her chest that Anthony truly didn't notice anyone else's attention. As far as he was concerned, Kate was the only woman who found him attractive at all, and she was perfectly happy to keep it that way. But it was awfully funny.

"Hi Kate." Debbie sighed a little sadly as Kate knelt beside Edmund, kissing the top of his head as he let out a shrill Mummy!

"Did you have a good day sweetheart?"

Neddy nodded, his hair falling in his eyes as he settled on her hip, so much like Anthony as he settled his chin on her shoulder.

"Hey, Debbie, hope he wasn't too much trouble today."

And whatever Debbie had been about to say was cut off by Gerard in the background Oh My god! Daddy Bridgerton's here!

"Neddy! There's my boy!" Anthony's voice boomed through the daycare, rushing forwards, completely oblivious to the eyes that followed him across the room, to the sighs several of the mum's standing around let out as he perched his sunglasses on top of his braided hair, grinning brightly as he wrapped both Kate and Edmund in his arms for a long moment.

"Papa!" Edmund crowed, giving his father a high five sending Kate's heart hammering.

"Bud, did you have fun today?"

"Yep! Are we gonna get ice cream on the way home?"

Anthony pretended to think about it, kissing the top of his head before whispering, "Of course we are, don't we always on Fridays?"

"Yes!"

And as they walked out smiling at Edmund's teachers as Jessica sighed God she is such a lucky bitch.

Kate couldn't really help herself from winking over Edmund's head at them, "I know, hot as fuck right?"

and truly the fact that Anthony looked a little bewildered and said "It's november." Made it all the better.

[strawberryblondebutch]

Holy shit yeah, I was at riot fest too and it was so crazy that you could actually visually tell that this was a lot of people's first festival and they were all really so young that it worried me quite a bit. I have to say that Gerard really tried his best to try to go above and beyond what he could do to keep the crowd safe though. But I can't help but shake the worry that I feel for some of the younger crowds.

Besides the worry, I do have to say I encountered quite a lot of kids who were TOTAL dicks, this was inevitable but also made me question why the fuck they would decide to go to a fucking festival that celebrates a COLLECTION of bands and bash on bands that aren't MCR, like buddy if you wanted to only see them they're literally touring right now, no need to glare at me for fucking shouting out Passing Through a Screen Door, it's a song to be belted and I won't have a high schooler who just got their license a week ago glare at me.

I was far enough back during MCR's set that I didn't see a lot of the craziness until after the fact, I just heard Gerard trying to settle down the crowd, and over the course of the weekend I started getting more frustrated with people who were clearly there just to see MCR and hadn't prepared for the realities of an outdoor music festival.

I was with my parents (like a total dork, but let's be honest: they were in the Philly hardcore scene before I was born, and they still go hard as fuck), and it was pretty easy to pick out the first-timers. The shoes were the deadest giveaway: some people were already stumbling in their big leather boots by noon, when we got there on Friday. Wear what you want, but it's outdoors. In a park. For eight or more hours. I switched between my old Adidas and Vans with the insoles, because the first lesson of hardcore is to wear what's comfortable, not what's trendy.

I've been bitching for a while about kids not knowing concert etiquette. My frustrations actually came to a head in April when I saw grandson at Union Transfer. I tried to stand in the middle back area, away from where the circle pit would form, but I kept getting crowdkilled by kids in braces, and halfway through the show I had to go and hang out by the bar with the other olds. I get that everyone has to start somewhere and that concert etiquette is learned, but holy shit, please learn sooner. I'm more patient with kids than I am adults (sorry not sorry to the guy I laid the fuck out at a La Dispute show a couple years ago), but my patience is wearing thin. Everyone just needs to learn the same couple rules: 1. Every human being has a designated minimum amount of space they take up. 2. You cannot spontaneously generate more space by pushing. 3. If someone falls down, pick them the fuck back up again. (4. Don't throw full beer cans, cough cough Touche Amore fans)

From where I was at the Wonder Years set (at the rail, to house right/stage left) I had a good time, but that was not the case for Taking Back Sunday or Alkaline Trio. I was already annoyed with the people who acted like my existence at TBS was interfering with their lives when they didn't know any songs (also, who the fuck doesn't know Cute Without the 'E'?!?), and it really didn't help when I went online afterwards and saw 1) a picture of a kid fully reading a book during TBS's set and 2) multiple people referring to Alkaline Trio as "some other band that played before MCR".

I don't want to bash MCR. They're great. I went to their set. But you know who else is great? Sincere Engineer, Hot Mulligan, The Wonder Years, Mothica, The Get Up Kids, the Menzingers, Bad Religion. Fucking Sunny Day Real Estate was there! I've been waiting just as long for Sunny Day to get back together as I have MCR!! At the end of the day, I can't tell if I wanted the kids who camped out at the Riot Stage to actually get out and explore the festival, or if I was happy that they weren't at Radicals grumbling about all my favorite bands.

This rant got long, but I've seen way too many people throwing out the baby (a crowd crush confined to one band) with the bathwater (a fucking awesome festival with so many cool bands).

Side note: Passing Through a Screen Door was when I lost my voice for the day. "I don't want my children growing up to be anything like me," specifically.

[robinrunsfiction]

It’s A Love Story - Part 2

Part 1

When Saturday arrived, (YN) had been so excited for her and Mikey’s birthday party, but the noise had been going on for what felt like ages and she needed a break. It wasn't like many people were talking to her, apparently Gerard's threats were even more intimidating with him in the corner keeping an eye on everything as their mom left him to chaperone while she stayed up in her bedroom, away from the teenagers. 

(YN) slipped away to her room, flopping back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling when she heard a knock on the door frame. She sat up with a start and found Frank looking amused in the doorway.

"Avoiding your own party?" He asked.

"And I'll cry if I want to, or however the song goes. I dunno how Mikey got all of the outgoing genes in like the entire family. It's not really fair."

Frank laughed and nodded. "You and Gee do have that in common."

(YN) nodded. "You can come in ya know."

"I dunno what rules your mom has about boys in your bedroom," he said, padding across the floor to sit next to her.

"Oh you know you only got Gee and Mikey to be scared of," she replied, shaking her head. "What brings you up here anyway?"

"I got you a present," he said.

"Really?" (YN)'s eyes lit up and a grin formed on her face.

"Yea, umm, here," he said, pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket.

(YN) stared at it for a moment before carefully unwrapping it. Inside was a necklace with a blue sapphire charm. "Oh wow," she whispered.

"The lady at the store said it was your birthstone, but I didn't know if you'd like it," he trailed off with a shrug.

"I love it, it's so pretty!" She said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "Thanks Frank."

"Of course, happy birthday (YN)," he replied, returning the hug.

"I'm gonna guess you didn't get Mikey the same thing?" (YN) laughed as she put the necklace on. 

Frank laughed. "Nah, I got him a CD," Frank replied before pausing, seemingly lost in thought. "It's kinda shitty how him and Gee scared off all the guys from you."

(YN) sighed. "I just wish they would have asked me how I felt about it first. But," she paused, drawing up every ounce of courage she could find, "as long as the guy I like keeps talking to me, it's fine."

Frank nodded before his eyes went wide and (YN) couldn’t help but laugh a little at the realization that had clearly just hit him. 

"And I seem to be the only guy that's ever talking to you."

"So that would mean," she trailed off, her cheeks burning.

"For real?"

"Yea, sorry," she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I mean, I like you too, (YN)."

She was surprised, but couldn’t help but grin. "It's dangerous to have a crush on me, ya know."

"I like to live dangerously," he smirked, and (YN) had to keep from melting on the spot as the air hung thick between them. 

"So what do we do now?" She asked softly.

“Well, I really wanna kiss you," he said, sliding closer to her, his hand on top of hers.

“Gee and Mikey will kill you,” she whispered as they started to lean in together.

“Then I’ll die happy," he whispered back.

“See you at your funeral,” she replied as Frank reached up and touched her cheek gently before closing the distance between them. Their lips met and (YN) had to try not to sigh, it was everything she had hoped it would be. 

When they pulled back, Frank was smiling like she'd never seen before. "Was that good?" She asked.

Frank furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yea, it was really good. Wait, was that your first kiss?"

(YN) nodded and bit her lip, her cheeks going pink again. "Yea."

A smile spread across Frank's face. "You wanted me to be your first kiss?"

"Duh," she laughed lightly. "Is that weird?"

"No, it's," Frank looked like he was trying to find the words to describe what he was feeling. "Fucking awesome," he finally replied.

(YN) smiled and shook her head, before looking down at the necklace she was now wearing. "Thanks for making this a really memorable birthday."

"You deserve it," he nodded. 

"We should probably go back downstairs before someone comes looking for us, or starts to suspect something."

"Yea," Frank agreed. "We'll talk soon about… us?"

"Sounds like a plan," (YN) nodded.

Frank leaned in, giving her another quick kiss before getting up and leaving her room.

(YN) sighed and flopped back on her bed again before letting out a squeal of utter glee.

~

The following week of school felt like the longest of (YN)'s life, all she wanted was for it to be Friday night. She and Frank had decided they were going to skip the weekly movie night with her brothers and Ray, and instead have their first date. When Friday evening finally arrived, (YN) couldn't get out of the house quick enough. 

"(YN) are you still in for movie night?" She heard Mikey ask behind her. She froze, wincing, hand inches from the doorknob.

"Oh, no sorry," she replied, turning to face her brother. "I'm going to Marie's, she's having some boy problems and wanted someone to talk to."

"Oh," Mikey shrugged.

"What's going on?" Gerard asked, walking into the living room.

"Guess it's just us and Ray tonight," Mikey explained.

"Where are you going?" Gerard asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Marie's. No Frank?" She asked, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"He said he's not feeling good, stomach thing," Gerard explained.

(YN) nodded. "That sucks... Well, I'll see ya later," she said before hurrying out the door, afraid they'd somehow see through her lies.

The walk to Frank's house was quick, she'd made it countless times before, but never before in this context, which added an extra spring to her step. By the time she arrived at the door, her heart was pounding.

"Hey," he said, immediately pulling her into a hug when she walked in. "I ordered a pizza a little bit ago, is that cool?"

"Yea, of course," she nodded before kicking off her shoes and dropping her purse by the door. "Umm, so did you tell your mom that we're," she trailed off.

"She's not home yet, but yea, just so she knows not to bring it up around the guys for some reason,” he said, leading the way into the kitchen. 

“That’s good,” she nodded, taking the soda that he offered to her.

An awkward silence hung between them as they stood in the kitchen. They normally would have been bantering easily, but there was now so much to talk about that neither seemed to know where to begin.

“So, umm-” Frank started, but before he could get any more words out, the doorbell rang. “Oh, hang on.”

(YN) nodded and made her way to the living room, plopping down on the couch.

"Thanks man, see ya Monday," she heard Frank say before walking into the living room with the pizza.

"Who was that?"

"Tucker. I didn't know he got a job delivering pizzas."

"Me neither, but no one tells me anything anymore," she laughed.

Frank laughed as he sat the pizza down on the coffee table in front of them. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Whatever you want,” (YN) shrugged as she picked up a slice of pizza.

Frank hummed as he perused his movie collection. “Got it,” he nodded, pulling one off the shelf, and putting it on. He settled onto the couch next to (YN) as he started the movie. After they both had their fill of pizza, Frank put his arm over her shoulder. "Is this ok?"

"Yea," she smiled, sliding over so she was resting against his side.

They sat in silence as the movie continued to play, but (YN) was only halfway paying attention. She was too busy thinking about Frank's hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the material of her shirt. She had just turned her attention back to the movie when a jump scare made her yelp and bury her face against Frank’s shoulder.

She heard the sound of the movie stop and Frank wrapped both his arms around her. "Shit, sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's ok," she replied, pulling back from him enough to look up at his face. He was definitely concerned, and it warmed her heart.

"Do you wanna watch something else?"

"No, no, it's ok, we can keep watching this," she insisted. “I was just startled.”

"Ok, he replied, pressing play again, but she stayed curled up against him and he kept both his arms wrapped around her, holding her tighter than before.

"There's another jump scare coming up," Frank said a few minutes later.

(YN) whined a little and turned to hide her face against Frank's shoulder again when he caught her chin and she looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed her while the suspenseful music blared from the TV. (YN) smiled into the kiss as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders and he pulled her closer. Tentatively he deepened the kiss, and she tried not to get too excited that she was finally, truly, getting to make out with Frank.

It wasn't until the end credits were playing that they came up for air.

"I really liked the movie," (YN) laughed.

"Me too," Frank grinned. "And I really like you."

"You'd mentioned something about that before," (YN) smiled coyly, but couldn't help but blush a little. “Umm, so can I ask something?” Frank nodded so she continued. “When did you realize that you liked me?”

Frank scrunched up his face for a moment as he thought. “I think it was kinda gradual. When we started the band and you started doing your own thing with your clothing designs, I thought that was so cool.”

“Really?”

Frank nodded. "I don't always know who or what you're talking about, but it's cool seeing you be so excited about it. But," and then winced a bit. “If I’m gonna be totally honest, umm,” he trailed off.

“What?” 

“Please don’t think I’m a scumbag like Adam, but umm, at the pool party, I mean,” he rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re hot!” He finally blurted out and (YN) began to laugh.

“I don’t think you’re a scumbag, because I know you’re not gonna try to take advantage of me or anything,” she replied.

“I never would, you mean too much to me to do anything that would make you feel bad," he replied sincerely.

(YN) smiled. “That’s why I like you, ya know.”

“Hmm?”

“You always make me feel better about myself, even when I'm struggling through math class or whatever. And because when Gee or Mikey are being obnoxious and picking on me, you would always take my side," she smiled. “Plus you’re really cute and I really like watching you play guitar because it’s so cool.”

It was Frank’s turn to grin. "So are you gonna start coming to watch our practices?"

"I dunno, I don't wanna just seem like a groupie,” she laughed. “Or worse, raise my brothers' suspicions. I don't want them to freak out and kick you out of the band or something," she said, starting to pick at her nails.

"Hey," he started, taking her hands as she looked up at him. "I know you do that when you’re nervous, but whenever you're ready to talk to them, I'll be there. Until then, we'll keep things between just you and me."

"The secrecy is kinda fun, forbidden romance and all that," she smiled.

"And when it's not secret, it will be even better, because then I'll be able to do this whenever I want," he said leaning in and kissing her.

(YN) got completely lost in the amazing sensation of kissing Frank until the front door opened. They jumped apart as Frank’s mom walked into the house. She peeked in the doorway to the living room with a smile. “Hi Frank, hi (YN), don’t mind me!”

They both greeted her, and (YN) checked the time. “Ugh, it’s getting late, I should probably get home,” she said, getting up.

“Do you want me to walk you back?" Frank asked, following her to the door.

"Probably shouldn't risk it. You're supposed to be sick, remember?"

"Oh yea," he replied, sounding a bit forlorn.

"I promise I’ll try to figure out how to tell them soon."

Frank nodded. "Like I said before, whenever you're ready, I'll be right there with you. You're my girl."

(YN) felt her heart flip and her knees go a little weak as she threw her arms around Frank and buried her face against his neck. He held her close until she pulled back, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Let me know when you get home safe," he said as she headed out the door.

She waved over her shoulder, feeling like she was practically floating

Part 3

[rosy-cheekx]

“It’s cute that you tried to protect me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” with jon and anyone??

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062798

Sooo, here’s the thing. Along the way it became “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” The premise is the same but things sorta got out of hand. Either way...Happy Birthday Rye!! This is for you 💕��

Tim was exhausted. He’d been up late the night before pouring through books on historic architecture, trying to find anything referencing Robert Smirke and his…unique building practices. While he wasn’t usually the one to take work home with him, this statement Jon had recorded, one about Leitner and Gerard Keay and the tunnels underneath the Pall Mall struck a chord with him. It felt just wrong enough to be related to Smirke. So he had been up at all hours, researching Smirke and any associations he may have had with Pall Mall. He had been successful, at the end of it, but had fallen asleep near five and gotten barely four hours of sleep before he was dragged to wretched consciousness again by the sun streaming through his window.

Normally, Tim would grab a coffee on the way to work, but honestly he was nearing a little too close to hand-to-mouth living as it was, especially with their paychecks not being due til next Friday. There was a coffee maker in the Archives breakroom, sputtering as it was. Coffee was coffee and coffee was what Tim needed. It was half eight, a little earlier than most of his crisp, just-late-enough-to-piss-Elias-off-but-not-enough-to-get-called-out-for-it 10:15 arrivals, but it didn’t matter. If he was lucky, no one else would be there.

-

Jon was in the Archives. When wasn’t Jon in the Archives? They were his Archives after all.

Jon blinked and peeled his cheek from the cool metal of his desk, wincing at the ghostly impression left from the heat and oils of his skin. His neck and spine protested in clicks and pops as he straightened himself up, wincing at the angle he had allowed himself to sleep in for so long. It was just after nine, according to the ever-ticking clock above the door to his office, the only door, the door he left propped open unless he was certain he was the only one there. (No one needed to come knocking for him.) He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but it had definitely been past midnight, after even Elias had left his office and the hum of The Institute faded to a strangely comfortable silence, nothing but Jon and his files and statements. Just one more statement, he had thought to himself, wearily regarding the ever-growing stack of “To-Do” files in the box on his desk. One more and then I can go home and rest. One more now is one less Elias can ask after, the acknowledgement of Jon’s failure in his voice. Jon wasn’t sure if he had turned the tape recorder off or if he had just run out of tape-did they even run out of tape? They never seemed to. On investigation, the faint snuffling sounds he heard when he played the tape back proved he had forgotten to tur-

Wait. What was that?

Jon frowned and rewound the tape a few minutes, listening intently. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps, faint but definitely there. Was someone in his archives? Jon pursed his lips and glanced again at the clock. Just after nine, even Sasha wouldn’t be here yet, the punctuality of her 9:25 arrival something you could set a clock to.

Jon glanced around, not really sure what it was he was looking for. Something to defend himself, maybe? He wasn’t sure when he’d decided to identify the source of the sound, but something in his gut had shifted. He settled on grabbing a crutch resting in the corner of his office, abandoned from his recovery after the Prentiss attack.

Armed, Jonathan Sims crept to the door of his office. The automatic lights in the hallway flickered on as he slowly peered down both sides of the hallway, curly hair a mess and swinging unhelpfully by his cheeks. No one. The hallway was empty, no shadows to be seen sweeping menacingly around the corner.

God. He was probably being stupid. It was probably the statements getting to him. But still, something urged the back of his mind. He couldn’t shake the notion he wasn’t alone in the cold, lonely basement.

Cautiously, Jon crept down the hall, holding the crutch first by the handle, then clumsily turning it over to hold it by the base towards the ground. He didn’t make a habit of watching American baseball, but he imagined he looked rather like the players at bat, the rest of the crutch resting on his shoulder, elbows cocked uncertainly.

“Sasha? Martin? Tim?” His voice was somewhere between a croak and a shout, halfway between cowardice and curiosity. No answer, not that he really expected one.

Jon listened intently as he reached the bullpen of the archives, where Tim, Sasha, and Martin’s desks were arranged. It took him a moment to register what was bothering him about the room before he realized it with a start: the lights were on. These were also automatic; Jon knew this from the number of times Tim, Sash, and Martin had burst into laughter and cacophonies of “no!” and “guess we’re done!” whenever they sat still too long, engrossed in their work. Jon had privately wondered if it had been set up to keep them from being productive.

But the lights were on. That meant someone had been through here. And recently. Jon was paralyzed for a moment, wondering what he should do. Call 999? Or Elias? If it was supern—strange, police wouldn’t be able to do much anyways. Furthermore, if he was imagining things, he would never here the end of it from Elias. What if he asked him to step down from the position? No, Jon could handle this. Of course he could. Whatever it was, he needed to see what was happening and could make a decision from there.

He heard a shuffle from the break room, a scuff of shoe on the worn lino. A thief who just decided to stop for a cuppa and sandwich? Well, the breakroom was next to the records room…what if it was a thing here to steal a statement? A thing like Jane Prentiss, or-or a vampire, or, god forbid, Michael?

Jon felt woozy with fear and nervous energy as he crept forward blindly, twisting the crutch in his hands as he approached the open doorway to the breakroom, the light to which was off. This bulb wasn’t auto, unfortunately. As Jon stood in the doorway, he let his eyes adjust the darkness of the small room, blinking nervously and sweeping the room with his eyes desperately, looking for a clue.

There.

A darker blackness in the black, making up a vaguely humanoid shape, standing motionless by the cupboards. Jon tried to speak, to address it, but his voice was barely a whisper, caught in his throat.

“W-Who are you?” No answer. Jon could’ve sworn it shifted towards him, the thing that looked like a head bobbing slightly.

It would take maybe six steps to get there. The light switch was by the fridge, at the other end of the room. Was it worth it? Jon could probably run and flip the switch but the creature would definitely know he was there. Maybe it was better to just run.

Jon was suddenly struck with a terrifying thought as the creature seemed to shift again, shuddering to itself. What if it was Jane Prentiss, lying in wait for Martin any one of them to come back?

He had to attack. Jon steeled himself, tightening his grip on the crutch.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Gahhhhhhhh!” Jon ran forward, swinging his makeshift weapon towards the creature. He watched the shape in the darkness shifted and seemed to compress and duck out of the way of his swinging, in slow motion but all at once. His crutch struck the countertop, and Jon vaguely registered a shattering as something hit the ground

“Jon!”

“…T-Tim?”

The shadow in the darkness shrunk and Jon blinked at the sudden brightness as the light came on, finally recognizing the creature as Tim, eyes wide as he surveyed his boss in front of him, hair mussed from sleep and wielding a crutch like a cricket bat.

“Jon, what the hell?” Tim’s voice was somewhere at the intersection of confusion, anger, and dazed humor, hard to pin down. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you—It’s nine in the morning! How did you get in?” Jon felt all the adrenaline leave his body at once, and he dropped the crutch to the Formica counter he seemed to have chipped, shoulders sagging.

“I-coffee!” Tim gestured to the shattered ruins of a Derwent Water mug, an orange kayak in two distinct pieces as a coffee spread across the tiles slowly. Jon’s face must have shown the incredulity he was feeling, because Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t sleep, figured I’d be more use here. Didn’t feel like making a Costa run. That’s second to the real question, though, which would be: Why are you trying to kill me?”

Jon scrubbed his hands over his face; of course it was just Tim. He had been so terrified and it was just Timothy fucking Stoker. “I-I’m sorry, Tim. I heard something on my tape, and I thought there was someone in here…a-and there was. But I mean, someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. I-I did call out, b-but no one answered.” Jon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought maybe you were a vampire. Or Michael. Or Jane Prentiss,” he admitted after a moment, voice quieter.

Two beats of silence, three, before Tim’s raucous, barking laughter finally broke the silence.

“Were you going to kill a vampire with a walking crutch?” Tim managed between chuckles, doubling over. “Just-” he makes a sweeping motion with closed fists over each other, “with a bat, like-like a piñata?” He was taken over by giggles again and Jon was left staring blankly, trying valiantly to figure out what was so funny.

“I-I dunno, maybe? I didn’t want to just do nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t be laughing, it’s-” Tim straightens and gestures at Jon, composing himself. “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know? You’re not exactly physically menacing.”

Jon stared. “I wasn’t trying to be menacing, I was trying-shit.” He felt warm liquid seeping into his socks-how did he just realize he wasn’t wearing shoes- and stumbled back, grabbing for the paper towels on the table. “I was trying to save my own ass. And I’m not that short.” Another snort from Tim, acknowledging and rejecting his argument. “Sorry about your mug,” Jon continued, dropping to a squat to sweep up the milky coffee and ceramic in a bundle of sopping paper.

“Meh, worth it,” Tim shrugged, dropping next to him and spooling towel into his own hands. “Yep,” popped the p. “The image of you baring your teeth at me like a wild dog is totally worth it. Besides, now I have an excuse to ask Sash to buy me a coffee from the posh place near her flat.”

“Oh, no, please. I should buy you something from the Costa down the street. I-! need to get some anyways.” Jon glanced over his shoulder at the doorway to the now unlit bullpen, trying to pretend he didn’t obviously look like he slept here.

“Yeah, no, you look like shit. No offense,” Tim added absentmindedly, pretending not to acknowledge the fact that Jon did not, in fact, drink coffee. “Did you sleep here again?”

Silence as Jon gathered the coffee-soaked towels in his hands and rose, tossing them in the bin by the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just nodded off. I was recording statements and lost track of time.”

“Ohh, so you heard me come in?”

“Kind of. Heard it on the tape—”

“Hello?” Martin’s voice called out as the bullpen lights flicked on. “Oh, hey Tim, Jon! You two alright?”

“Heya, Marto. Jon and I were just about to hit up the café. Want something?”

Tim got a caramel latte. Jon got a chai. Martin and Sasha got muffins, a very good story, and a lightly blushing (and smiling, though he would deny it) Archivist.

-

Tim was grateful to Jon for never asking why he had stood so long, in silence and dark, staring at his cup of coffee as if it wasn’t even there. He never asked why his shoulders had been heaving and why his eyes were as baggy as they had been. Jon did offer more often, though, to get coffee with him, in the odd mornings that they were both there absurdly early and battling their own demons. Tim always said yes.

[bandficsbyh]

Gerard way x reader where they like work together in cartoon network studio or something???? Idk thought it was cute

Watercooler Romance

Gerard way x Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/n: ok so I got a bit carried away with this one, so it’s a little long hehe. It’s just such a cute concept!! Hope you like it 😊

Cartoon Network. Holy shit. All those years spent cooped up in your room drawing finally paid off. Finally, all those hours spent convincing your parents to let you go to art school had come to fruition. Only one problem, you were insanely nervous.

You had been told you would be sharing an art space with a guy that was around your age at the front desk. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like as you wandered the hallways trying to locate your new space. Would he be nice? Cute? Rude? You were so distracted with your thoughts you almost missed the sign with your name on it.

Gerard Way

(Y/N) (L/N)

Cartoonists

Woah. This is real. You thought excitedly. Then you noticed the name of your coworker. Gerard Way. Neat name. You could be famous with that name.

Suddenly the reality of where you were came crashing down onto you. The job of your dreams was just on the other side of the door. Holy shit.

You tried not to seem too enthusiastic as you opened the door. Last thing you wanted was to startle whoever this Gerard was and make him ruin a project. Much to your surprise, he didn’t seem startled at all.

“Hi! You must be (Y/N)...” The boy at the first art desk said with a smile. You couldn’t help noticing how cute he was, with his shy grin and baby face. He was a little chubby, but it only made you feel a strange urge to cuddle him, despite having just met him. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you caught yourself staring at him.

“Uh, yeah...yeah that’s me...You must be Gerard.” You said, shaking your head a little to regain your composure. Gerard nodded and extended a hand for you to shake. “Nice to meet you.” You said, shaking his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, too! If you ever need anything just let me know.” He beamed, before turning back to his work.

You had been working at Cartoon Network and sharing an office with Gerard for a while now. You loved it. You even had scored a pitch for one of your cartoons in a few days.

Which is why it came as no surprise when you had your first rough day.

Your alarm clock had broken without you realizing it, so if it hadn’t been good your neighbors’ dog barking at a squirrel you would’ve been late. Then, your car wouldn’t start. And for a cherry on top the bus ran late. Needless to say by the time you burst into your office, you weren’t happy.

“Woah! You alright, (Y/N)?” Gerard asked, jumping from his spot at his desk. You sighed and nodded as you hung up your jacket. “Yeah, just a rough morning.” You groaned, flopping into your seat and flipping through half finished sketches. You almost cried when you couldn’t find your pencil.

“Here.” Gerard said, smiling sympathetically and handing you a spare pencil. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” You sighed in relief, not noticing the twinge of pink that covered his cheeks. “Not a problem.” He said, clearing his throat a little and going back to his work.

Around noon you realized you hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast when your stomach growled loudly. You blushed and prayed Gerard hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately for you, he had.

“Uh...do you...” He started, losing confidence and trailing off. You tilted your head and looked at him questioningly. “Uh...” This time it was Gerard’s turn to blush and look down. “Do you maybe wanna go grab lunch? It’s around our lunch break...” He asked quickly, clearing his throat and meeting your eyes again.

You blinked. Did Gerard just ask for a date? You blushed and nodded. Gerard looked visibly relieved and grinned. “Great! Let me just finish this and we’ll go...” You giggled and nodded, still caught off guard by his nervous request.

You and Gerard getting lunch slowly became a regular event. The longer you spent with your charming coworker, the harder you felt yourself falling. Little did you realize Gerard felt the same way.

The fact he reciprocated your feelings was a well kept secret by Gerard. Well, that is until he finally got the courage to ask you out for dinner.

“Hey, (Y/N)? Can I, uh...can I talk to you for a second?” Gerard stuttered, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot and picking at his nails.

“Yeah, of course! What’s up?” You asked, trying not to sound too happy to see him. You’d had a hard time hiding your feelings, and were scared he’d notice despite his oblivious nature.

“Uh...well, I was wondering...” Gerard started. You noticed the blush forming on his cheeks and suppressed a smile. “Well...would you maybe wanna go out for dinner sometime? I completely understand if you don’t. Please don’t feel pressured or anything, I was just wondering....” He rambled. You couldn’t control the smile that quickly formed upon hearing his request.

The look of surprise and happiness on your face surprised him. He had been trying to ask you out for dinner so many times, he was amazed you hadn’t seen it coming.

“Yes! I mean, yeah sure. Sounds fun.” You said, desperately trying to keep your cool and not be too excited. Gerard beamed at you. “Great! Great. Uh, tonight, eight o’clock? I can pick you up or we can meet somewhere if you’d prefer?” He said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Sounds great! Here’s my address, I’ll see you at eight!” You giggled, scribbling down your address and handing it to him.

“Awesome! I’ll uh, I’ll see you then!” Gerard giggled, backing out of the room and beginning to close the door. Suddenly he stopped and reentered the room.

“Wait! Uh, where do you wanna eat?”

Quitting time came and went before you knew it, the excitement of your date was almost overwhelming. You practically ran home so you could get ready in time for Gerard to pick you up.

By seven thirty you were almost ready to explode. Constantly standing in front of the mirror, searching for any imperfections or out of place hairs. Unbeknownst to you, Gerard was doing the same thing...

“Mikey! Have you seen my hairbrush?” Gerard yelled, searching the basement in a frenzy. The younger Way brother looked at him, almost in shock.

“It’s in the bathroom...why? Do you have a date or something?” Mikey asked almost suspiciously. Gerard tolled his eyes. “Yes, actually I do. And if I don’t hurry I’m gonna be late.” He huffed, jogging to the bathroom and quickly doing his hair.

“Do I look okay?” Gerard asked, posing in front of his brother nervously. Mikey chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, you look good. Have fun.” The younger man said. Gerard nodded and bounced up the stairs.

“Don’t forget to use a condom!”

“Fuck off, Mikey!”

You sat by the door, fidgeting nervously with your phone. Much to your relief, the doorbell rang at exactly eight. You stood up and took one last look in the mirror before opening the door.

Gerard cleaned up nicely, with his shirt tucked into his jeans and his hair fixed to perfection. You had decided to go for pizza thankfully, so you both were much more comfortable the way you were than having to dress up.

It took him a minute to notice you, as he was looking off down the street, but when he did it was noticeable. His mouth opened a little but no words came out as he checked you out, like you had just done to him.

“Wow, you look good.” Gerard said, scratching the back of his neck and blushing a bit. You smiled and blushed. “Thanks! So do you.” He giggled a little as he led you to his car.

The date went better than either of you could’ve hoped. You had so many things common you talked until the owners closed the pizza parlor. You pouted, not wanting the best date you’d been on in months to end. Gerard sighed, obviously not wanting it to end either.

Neither of you could think of anything to say on the car ride back to your apartment, but it was a comfortable silence. Gerard even mustered up the courage to hold your hand over the console between you.

When you pulled up, you both sat in silence for a second, just admiring each other. “Can I walk you up?” Gerard asked, looking down for a second as if he was expecting to be rejected. “Uh, yeah, that’d be great.” You stuttered for a second, suddenly very nervous.

Gerard quickly got out and walked around to open your door for you, bowing for dramatic effect. You giggled and thanked him, mimicking a curtesy before leading him up to your front door.

You smiled sheepishly when you turned back around to face him after unlocking your door. Gerard giggled and smiled at you sweetly.

“I had a really great time tonight, Gee.” You said softly. He blushed a little at the nickname. “I did too, (Y/N). Maybe...wanna do it again next Friday?” He asked shyly. You nodded and took out a pen.

“Here,” you said, gently grabbing his hand and writing your number on his palm. “Call me sometime.” You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. Gerard grinned and nodded, putting his hands carefully in his pockets.

You turned around to head inside, when Gerard called you back.

“Wait!” He said, jogging back up the steps he had previously descended. He very gently cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours. You froze shocked for a second, before melting into it.

Gerard pulled back slowly, and smiled at you. Both of your faces were practically on fire. You giggled a little.

“Night, Gerard.”

“G’night, (N/N)”

[ablogwithoutacoolusername]

I'm Carving Pumpkins (It's Almost Halloween)

From July-ish until now, I have been watching one horror movie a day to make a list that nobody will see. Did an "out of 10" rating system that was meant to be for how much they scared me and nothing else, but things got a bit skewed if the movie gave me good characters, plot, acting, visual techniques, etc. Anyways... here are the movies and happy Halloween!

(PLEASE be safe if you're planning on watching any of these and look for trigger warnings. Doesthedogdie.com is a really good site to use for a multitude of warnings)

1/10 - Why did you make this?

Delirium (2018, dir. Johnny Martin)

Escape Room (2019, dir. Adam Robitel)

Brahms: The Boy II (2020, dir. William Brent Bell) - dog dies

2/10 - Better than nothing

Christmas Evil (1980, dir. Lewis Jackson)

Dead Alive (1992, dir. Peter Jackson) - dog dies

Ghost Ship (2002, dir. Steve Beck)

Freddy vs. Jason (2003, dir. Ronny Yu)

Hide and Seek (2005, dir. John Polson)

The Cabin in the Woods (2011, dir. Drew Goddard)

It Follows (2014, dir. David Robert Mitchell)

3/10 - At least you tried

A Blade in the Dark (1983, dir. Lamberto Bava)

Re-Animator (1985, dir. Stuart Gordon)

Chopping Mall (1986, dir. Jim Wynorski)

Identity (2003, dir. James Mangold)

The Grudge (2004, dir. Takashi Shimizu)

The Skeleton Key (2005, dir. Iain Softley)

Hatchet (2006, dir. Adam Green)

The Inheritance (2011, dir. Robert O'Hara)

No Solicitors (2015, dir. John Callas)

Don't Breathe (2016, dir. Fede Álvarez)

Wounds (2019, dir. Babak Anvari)

Velvet Buzzsaw (2019, dir. Dan Gilroy)

4/10 - Some things right

Stage Fright (1950, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - dog death implied

The Fog (1980, dir. John Carpenter)

Maniac (1980, dir. William Lustig)

Beetlejuice (1988, dir. Tim Burton)

What Lies Beneath (2000, dir. Robert Zemeckis)

Wrong Turn (2003, dir. Rob Schmidt)

Secret Window (2004, dir. David Koepp) - dog dies

[Rec] (2007, dir. Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza) - implied dog death

The Stepfather (2009, dir. Nelson McCormick)

The Thing (2011, dir. Matthijs van Heijningen Jr.) - dog dies

Bite (2015, dir. Chad Archibald)

The Gift (2015, dir. Joel Edgerton)

Crimson Peak (2015, dir. Guillermo del Toro) - dog dies

The Bye Bye Man (2017, dir. Stacy Title)

Clinical (2017, dir. Alistair Legrand)

The Raking (2017, dir. Bryan Brewer)

The Possession of Hannah Grace (2018, dir. Diederik van Rooijen)

5/10 - Average

Psycho (1960, dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

The Innocents (1961, dir. Jack Clayton)

Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (1981, dir. William Asher)

Happy Birthday to Me (1981, dir. J. Lee Thompson)

Videodrome (1983, dir. David Cronenberg)

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986, dir. John McNaughton)

Casper (1995, dir. Brad Silberling)

The Mist (2007, dir. Frank Darabont)

Insidious (2010, dir. James Wan)

Bird Box (2018, dir. Susanne Bier)

Doctor Sleep (2019, dir. Mike Flanagan)

Sputnik (2020, dir. Egor Abramenko)

6/10 - Getting interesting

The Wicker Man (1973, dir. Robin Hardy)

Halloween (1978, dir. John Carpenter) - 2 dogs die

Sleepaway Camp (1983, dir. Robert Hiltzik)

Intruder (1989, dir. Scott Spiegel)

The Sixth Sense (1999, dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

Shutter (2008, dir. Masayuki Ochiai)

Mama (2013, dir. Andrés Muschietti)

The Conjuring (2013, dir. James Wan) - dog dies

The Witch (2015, dir. Robert Eggers) - dog dies

The Boy (2016, dir. William Brent Bell)

Gerald's Game (2017, dir. Mike Flanagan)

1922 (2017, dir. Zak Hilditch)

Winchester (2018, dir. Michael and Peter Spierig)

Relic (2020, dir. Natalie Erika James)

7/10 - Pretty good

The Birds (1963, dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

Friday the 13th (1980, dir. Sean S. Cunningham)

My Bloody Valentine (1981, dir. George Mihalka)

An American Werewolf in London (1981, dir. John Landis)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, dir. Wes Craven)

Misery (1990, dir. Rob Reiner)

Scream (1996, dir. Wes Craven)

The Others (2001, dir. Alejandro Amenábar)

28 Days Later (2002, dir. Danny Boyle)

Cabin Fever (2003, dir. Eli Roth) - dog dies

The Descent (2005, dir. Neil Marshall)

Saw IV (2007, dir. Darren Lynn Bousman)

The Woman in Black (2012, dir. James Watkins)

Poltergeist (2015, dir. Gil Kenan)

Lights Out (2016, dir. David F. Sandberg)

8/10 - Very interesting

A Clockwork Orange (1971, dir. Stanley Kubrick)

The Last House on the Left (1972, dir. Wes Craven) - dog death implied

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974, dir. Tobe Hooper)

Alien (1979, dir. Ridley Scott)

The Silence of the Lambs (1991, dir. Jonathan Demme)

Candyman (1992, dir. Bernard Rose)

Evil Dead (2013, dir. Fede Álvarez) - dog dies

Hush (2016, dir. Mike Flanagan)

The Ritual (2017, dir. David Bruckner)

Slender Man (2018, dir. Sylvain White)

9/10 - Scared enough my heart stopped

The Wizard of Gore (1970, dir. Herschell Gordon Lewis)

Hostel (2005, dir. Eli Roth)

10/10 - Holy fucking shit that was terrifying never again (presses replay)

1408 (2007, dir. Mikael Håfström)

Martyrs (2008, dir. Pascal Laugier)

Antebellum (2020, dir. Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz)

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 14

Chapters: 14/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

One night, in the middle of a shift, Gerry gets a pounding migraine and goes to the back to have a cigarette. He knows it won't help, but he smokes it anyway and considers things as he paces the back room.

He's terrible at being sick, and it makes him miserable to be around. Still, the pain makes him ache for his partners, and he can't help picking up the phone to call Jon. It's close to midnight, but Gerry hopes that it won't be the one time Jon has gone to bed at a reasonable hour.

"Hello, Gerard," Jon answers the phone with an ocean of warmth in his voice.

"I miss you." Gerry presses his forehead into the cool window, seeking some sort of relief from the agonizing pressure in his head. He whispers the words like a confession, smokey breath fogging up the glass before him.

"What's wrong my love?" Just Jon's heady, seductive voice provides the emotional support Gerry was seeking, and he wishes he could sink into the words, the feelings behind them, and leave his fracturing body behind for a while.

"Nothing. Not feeling well is all. I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds pale and washed out, even to himself.

"I'm still at the library, I'll come by and haunt you until your shift is over." Jon makes the offer very casually, although that fussy part of his personality that enjoys mothering Gerry and Martin shines through a bit.

"On a Friday, Jon? You should be home with Martin." He can't help but chuckle at his sweet idiot, even through the pain.

"Martin is out with Sasha and Tim for the evening, remember? I was hoping to stop by and tempt you over to mine tonight anyway." Far from being chastised for his workaholic tendencies, Jon injects all his fond affection into his tone. "Would you be interested in spending the night in a handsome man's bed?"

"Fuck yes. Obviously."

"Oh Gerry, my Gerry." Jon sing-songs into the phone. "Always saying just the right thing to make my heart skip a beat."

Gerry takes a moment to consider his state. He can barely see out of his blurry eyes, and the pounding in his ears makes him feel vaguely underwater. His forceful personality makes it hard for him to admit, but he knows he shouldn't be working like this, and that he'll be much better off with his lover than alone in his own flat.

"I'm going to beg off the rest of my shift, will you come fetch me?" He desperately tries to keep his words easy, but he comes off sounding rather plaintive.

"Yes, Gerry, of course." Jon is frowning audibly now, but he leaves his concern be for the moment. Gerry can hear him moving about, probably packing up his things. "I'm leaving right now, I'll be there soonest. Gerry?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Gerry squeezes his eyes shut tight. "I love you too, Jon."

*

Jon takes one look at Gerry's drawn, pale face, and calls them a cab.

Gerry doesn't offer even one argument, and a pit of concern opens up in Jon's stomach.

"Do you want to go back to your place, after all?" He asks, sliding his hands up Gerry's arms to rest on his shoulders. "Maybe you'll be more comfortable in your own space."

"No, let's go to yours." Gerry draws their foreheads together, standing out in the cool air of the street. "I like being in your space, with your energy and your things. Besides, how can I resist an invitation to your bed."

"Yes, all the cuddling we've done there must really make your heart skip a beat with lust," Jon responds drily.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Gerry tells him firmly.

The taxi arrives and they climb in. Gerry is several inches taller than Jon, but he manages to scoot down enough to lie draped over the smaller man. Jon notices with some amusement that Gerry has adopted a rather Saturn-like posture, curled around him like an extremely large cat in the limited space.

They arrive at Jon's building and trudge up the several flights of stairs and through his door. Jon drags Gerry firmly by the hand, worried that without the right forward momentum, he'll lay down on the floor and pass out. Jon, under no misunderstanding about his physical prowess, knows that once his lumberjack-shaped boyfriend goes down, he certainly won't be getting him back up.

They go straight to the en-suite, and Gerry strips down to his briefs, Jon encouraging him to wash his face and half-heartedly brush his teeth. Halfway through, Gerry lets out a startled chuckle.

"What?" Jon asks from nearby, changing by his armoire.

"I own three toothbrushes." He tells him in an airy, disconnected tone. "Don't you think that's kinda silly?"

"No, Gerry, what would be silly was if you only had one and you carried it everywhere you went because you weren't sure whose bed you might end up sleeping in that night." And indeed, the multiple toothbrushes solution had originated from them unexpectedly sleeping over at each other's flats with no planning- and no toothbrushes.

Gerry giggles again, and Jon begins to worry about what kind of bizarre migraine he might have. Having suffered through a fair few in his life, he is more used to them presenting like all-consuming misery than like some kind of weird foggy drug trip. Gerry could be unique that way, though.

"I never thought I would have so many bed options that it might be an issue," Gerry whispers, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Changed into his sleep clothes, Jon goes over to stand behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. It's normally a Gerry or Martin posture, since Jon is smaller than them, but there's a different kind of satisfaction in having Gerry relax and settle into him, sighing with something akin to relief.

He looks at their reflection in the mirror and even with Gerry looking haggard, eyes sunken, 5 o'clock shadow coming in, hair thrown haphazardly into a messy bun, Jon can't help the swell of contentment that fills him. How did he, Jon 'walking disaster waiting to happen’ Sims, manage to get this right?

"Then I suppose it's a good thing my bed has been waiting for you all along," Jon eventually responds. "Come on, let's get you into it."

Gerry allows himself to be tucked in, although he refuses food and is only convinced with great reluctance to take two ibuprofen. His eyes remain stubbornly open, but the moment Jon finishes his own nighttime activities and slips into bed with him, Gerry curls around him, and promptly passes out.

*

The next morning, Gerry sleeps far longer than he normally would, even though he went to sleep several hours before his typical bedtime.

When he surfaces, approaching midday, he's groggy and stiff and feels rather hungover. Gerry thinks maybe a hangover would be better- at least then he would have had a good time to compliment his current misery.

Despite that, as he blinks his eyes open, the strains of gentle piano music drift through the flat, and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. It’s not particularly loud, and Gerry is incredibly soothed by it. In fact, when he says he likes being at Jon’s flat, this is why. He often sits down to play in the softest moments, if Gerry and Martin are around. Any normal, oft-repeated, potentially boring activity could be made delightful and atmospheric if Jon is sitting at the piano.

Jon had once confessed that he vastly preferred playing when one or both of them were around to hear it.

"At least half of the joy of music is in the audience," Jon had confessed quietly to them one day. "And you two are the best audience of all."

Now, as he wakes gently to the sound of his partner making music, Gerry can’t help but feel special and treasured. Never before in his life had he picked up the phone in a crisis with the complete certainty that there would be a loving voice on the other end. He had not even realized he was lacking such reliability until he had come to be able to depend on it, but now that it exists, he shies away from even the thought that he might lose it again.

He takes a moment to consider the current reality of their relationship. He obviously loves them, has always loved Jon, from the moment he growled at Gerry in the literature section of the library when he was seventeen-years-old. Now Martin fits with them both so well, Gerry wouldn’t know how to breathe without him. They’re it for him, he can see that clearly.

He can see it in the way that pain and illness drove him straight to Jon like true north and the way he managed to care for him through it perfectly.

He can see it in the way that Martin never seems to be less affected by finding Gerry in his bookstore, and the way Gerry’s heart feels hot and heavy in his chest every time Martin finds him still and focused and takes a moment to braid his hair in one way or another.

He can even see it in the way he immediately self-destructed when he thought he was going to lose them, pushing every part of his life into immediate turmoil at the thought of being alone again. Family-less. Without his Jon, and his Martin.

And he can see that he’s it for them too, in the way they clung to him to keep him together when he almost sunk the whole thing.

They are, he can see now, as essential to one another as breathing.

Gerry suddenly wishes that this could be the home that they all share. He wishes that every time one of them came home to him, they never had to leave to do laundry or water plants. He wishes, most of all, that this music could fill his house and his heart every morning, and that he would never again have to wake up trying to remember whose bed he was in - because they all shared the same one.

He hopes, desperately, that one day that will be their reality. Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, he’s confident he can convince he’s partners to stick around for good.

Until then, he’s content to be so loved that he needs three toothbrushes.

*

Gerry thinks maybe he drifts off again, because the next thing he knows, Jon is gently kissing his hand to wake him, a cup of tea in his other.

“Hi,” Jon whispers, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“Hey there,” Gerry offers in return, slowly sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “How are you today?”

Gerry takes the tea and sips it gratefully, finding it sweet and herbal. Camomile, he thinks, but wouldn’t swear his life on it at that moment.

“How bad could I be?” Jon asks, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I have a beautiful boy in my bed and I think I’ll keep him there all day.”

“Does this stunning nocturnal visitor get a say in the matter or…?” Gerry manages to offer a slightly dimmer version of his flirtatious grin.

“Maybe, if he makes it worth my while.” Jon teases, before sobering a little. “How are you though? You seemed in a pretty bad way last night.”

“I think I’m fine now, I guess it was just a fluke.” Gerry stretches, joints popping.

Jon picks up the tea to take a sip.

“It’s not as good as when Martin makes it.” He mutters to himself, grimacing.

Gerry finishes stretching, rather like a cat again, before shifting up onto his knees to hover slightly above Jon, as is his preference. “Maybe, but it’s still my favourite kind of thing because it's something you made for me.”

Jon reaches up, wrapping a hand around Gerry’s neck and pulling his lips down to meet his own. It’s gentle and dragging, and they tangle together enjoyably for several minutes. Gerry pulls away to kiss Jon’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead. Eventually Jon giggles and pushes him away, handing the tea back over in an effort to distract him.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Jon queries.

“Not just yet. Maybe a shower?”

“That sounds like a good plan. You should take it easy today.” Jon pauses, considering his next suggestion. “And maybe I could convince you to take tonight off from the bar too? Then we can all spend the evening together.”

"Yes, I think I could be tempted to do exactly that."

*

Gerry lingers in the shower, letting the water work out his stiffness and lift the fog hanging pervasively over him.

He washes his hair with Jon's shampoo and hopes the scent will linger on him. He decides not to shave, feeling too loose and lazy to handle any sharp objects.

Jon force-feeds him after, and then he braids Gerry's hair to keep it out his face.

"I can't believe you never braided your hair before you met Martin," Jon says as his fingers move through his hair rhythmically.

Gerry shrugs. "There was never anyone to teach me on myself, and my mother was bald for my entire formative life, so I couldn't learn from her."

Jon hums in acknowledgement.

"Speaking of Martin, where is our errant lover?" Gerry asks buoyantly, bouncing slightly.

Jon laughs at him, "Apparently he was out all night and then crashed on Tim's couch. He's going to come over later when he's managed to disinfect himself."

After, they move back to bed to read their books and rest, basking in the simple comfort of each other's presence, waiting for their third.

[mychemicalficrecs]

Hello! I was wondering if you have any Frerard set in the ‘Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge Era’, or around that time. Thank you! Also, I just wanted to tell you, I’ve discovered some of my favourite fics and authors because of you! 🥺 👉👈

Thank you so much for telling me, anon, that’s super awesome! I’m so glad you found works and authors you like through this blog 😊

Revenge Era Frank/Gerard

I'm Not Sleeping (Trust Me) by Dira Sudis (dsudis), 12k, Explicit. They didn't get any sleep while they were making the "I'm Not Okay" video.

Price Of Pretty by ladyfoxxx, 16k, Explicit. Set on the night of the 2005 MTV Video Music Awards. The one where Gerard gets spanked for all the compliments he gets.

Sucker Bet by autoschediastic, 3k, Explicit. Since Frank's currently got a sloppy handful of Gerard's hard-and-getting-harder cock, oops kinda seems like an understatement. But Frank's a practical kinda guy.

you weaseled your way into my heart (and ferreted out my feelings) by akamine_chan, 5k, Mature. You gotta watch out for those bands with umlauts.

Postscript by brooklinegirl, 12k, Explicit. "How about you wait for it?" Frank's not sure where that comes from, but now that he's said it, he really wants it.

Kicked In The Balls by ladyfoxxx, 4k, Explicit. Baby's first bandom fic. Of course it's all about the stagegay.

Wipe Off That Makeup by SeraphStarshine, 2k, Explicit. Frank just couldn't seem to get his makeup right, so he asks Gerard for some help, and blowjobs ensue.

Up In Smoke by Ms_Chem_Queen, 3k, Explicit. Gerard and Frank get stoned on the tour bus after a show and all the other guys are out at parties. One thing leads to another.

Use Your Hands And My Spare Time by SeraphStarshine, 3k, Explicit. Frank cracked his eyes open slowly, expecting to see Gerard peering down at him, or maybe reading a comic book, and the sound he had heard was Gerard squealing over a particularly exciting action scene, but no - what met Frank's eyes was something entirely different. Or the fic where Frank catches Gerard getting himself off while he thinks Frank is sleeping.

...That's Romance Too by charmlesstrans, 6k, Explicit. A series of firsts. But not really.

Payback and a Microphone by MizErie, 3k, Explicit. Payback's a bitch. And Frank is hell-bent on making sure Gerard remembers that from now on.

the one where gerard gives frank his coat by forallthegodsdeparted, 2k, Mature. Inspired by that one pic of Frank and Gerard with take-out and a fan in a hotel lobby, where Frank is wearing Gerard's coat. There was gonna be sex, then both the characters and I got tired and decided to nap instead. Pointless fluff and confusion about veganism ensue.

Behind the Scenes by ViciousVenin, 4k, Explicit. On the set of the Helena video shoot, Frank and Gerard find some mischievous ways to pass the time.

If Love Is Blind by findingsaturn, 13k, Explicit. When Frank had dreamed about going on tour...well, he knew it would be perfect in its own way, but he never imagined it would be perfect quite like this. // or // Frank isn't particularly great at putting on his own stage makeup. One night, when he goes to Gerard for help, he gets a little more than he bargained for.

Gerard, meet shampoo. Shampoo, meet Gerard by Kyuko, 2k, General Audiences. Gerard has pretty hair, really. If only he fucking washed it. Basically, Frank forcefully washes Gerard's hair because I've got nothing better to do on a friday night.

Thank You For The Venom by Headfirst_for_helena, 53k, Not Rated. It's 2004 and My Chem are on tour. It should be a happy time, and yet Gerard finds himself spiralling, caught in a toxic relationship and addiction. The only people that can seem to get through to him at all are his bandmates, but that's becoming complicated too, as he's accidentally fallen in love with one of them.

[christinesficrecs]

Happy Friday!! Playing catch up. Once again! 

Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 15.9K 

“Stiles, I’m serious, I need a favour.”

“That sounds like a trap,” Stiles Stilinski muttered sleepily into both his pillows. “You know,” he continued when the man in his room made no move to leave, “you’d think I’d be used to this. My dad, coming into my room, smacking my ass to get me out of bed, waking me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“It’s almost one.”

The man who’s gonna marry you (make you feel alive) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) | 4.2K

Only Finstock could marry the wrong people. Only Greenberg could fill out the papers wrong, but Finstock didn’t even check. It was like he wanted Stiles to be married to Derek Hale. And no one would want that, except maybe… Stiles.

Those Red Lights Keep Bringing Me Around by gryvon | 9.8K | Explicit

Stiles moves back to Beacon Hills after his father retires, hoping for somewhere quiet where they can both relax. His first day as a paramedic for Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital lands him in the midst of a werewolf-hunter war that he knows nothing about. Oh, and his childhood friend, Derek Hale, wants nothing to do with him. That jerk!

These Stars Will Guide Us Home by anodyneer | 9.9K

Derek fell for Stiles from the first time he saw him in a crowded planetarium, and the feeling was definitely mutual. For as well as they got to know each other over the weeks that followed, Derek still couldn't help feeling like a piece of the puzzle was missing - namely, the piece involving Stiles' home life. When Stiles disappears just before Thanksgiving break, Derek learns the truth about his boyfriend - and it's crazier than anything he could have imagined.

5 ways cosmo can help you win your man by stilinskisparkles | 5.7K

prompt from jen: where derek never had to work to get a date, he always had someone pursue him or ask him out. but when derek sees stiles, he waits and thinks stiles will stroll up and ask him out. everyone of his past relationships started that way, until stiles doesn’t. and derek is left with the horrifying possibility that he will have to make the first move and dare he think of it, flirt? and attempt small talk. and it turns out, he’s really bad at it. maybe he even tries cosmo tips and calls his sisters, both of whom are like 100% trolling him

A Bro's Guide to Surviving an Assassination Attempt by TuppingLiberty | 30.8K | Explicit

In college, Stiles stumbled into a gig on YouTube as an activist for supernatural rights. Now in his early twenties, he loves the work he does - that is, until someone wants to kill him for it.

Enter Agent Derek Hale and his team, who are trying to catch a killer, and keep Stiles safe.

Will be trying to update once a week. Tags will change. See chapter notes for relevant tags for each chapter. Please note that the E rating is for violence as well as smut, although there will be plenty of smut.

Love of a King by Dexterous_Sinistrious | 23.4K | Explicit

Stiles finds himself in the middle of Gerard's schemes and falls in love with the King.

Detective Stiles Stilinski and the Case of Derek Hale’s Mysterious Mate by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) | 5.5K

Mates are a thing. A werewolf thing. Which is fine and shit, but finding out that Derek fucking Hale has a mate? That gets to him. And seeing as Derek won’t tell him who it is, well… Guess that means this is a job for Detective Stiles Stilinski - if he’s not too distracted by his traditional banter with Derek.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Ripped Jeans and Greasy Hair (Part Three) - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: Hi, your blog is awensome. Can you do part 3 of Ripped Jeans and Greasy Hair? It's one of my favourite. And maybe this time with more Patrick and Joe and other MCR members? Word count: 2 371 A/N: I want to apply to a semester at another university (if I get into my first choice, I’ll be so fucking happy), and I just wrote the application, and my mum suggested I also tell them I write fanfiction. So now there’s deadass “Writing shortstories for readers online” in that fucking document. Holy shit. Dear person who decides on this matter, don’t ask me irl about this unless you’re the prof who used fanfiction to talk about genres (I’m willing to bet five bucks he’s written fanfic (probably for Buffy) himself). Also: the beginning of this story is weird, but I had it in my head and it made me laugh so… yeah.

“When I told you-“

“When you told me-“

“No, when I told you…”

“Yes?”

“What did I tell you?”

“Exactly! You didn’t tell me shit!”

“Oh fuck!”

You laughed hard at Joe’s reaction, when he realised he had forgotten to check in with you for the birthday party he had started planning for Patrick. He had started organising stuff, but doing it for such a huge party alone was a lot of work, so he had walked up to you at your locker to complain about you not helping. Only that he had not told you anything, and you had assumed the birthday party for Patrick would be a small one, like the last years; just his closest friends, some cake and star Wars.

“Okay, calm down, so what do you have so far,” you offered, while searching through your locker for your math book.

“Um, my neighbour works at this sorta venue thing, and somehow he can give the whole room to us for the entire evening, and he said if he can come to we don’t even have to pay anything, so there’s that-“

“Which venue?” Your eyes widened when Joe told you. That hall was certainly big enough for a party with a hundred people. “Dude, what do you have planned?”

“Trouble in paradise,” a familiar voice mocked, and a moment later an arm, dressed in smooth leather, got wrapped around your shoulder.

“Joe organised The Night Hall for Patrick’s birthday,” you explained, turning your head to give Gerard a quick kiss on the cheek, which made him blush.

You had no idea why, but even after several months of dating and kissing, he still blushed when you surprised him with an affectionate gesture. But then again it was no different the other way around.

“Oh, big party then,” Gerard nodded, a grin spreading over his face, “I’m in!”

“Sure you are,” you laughed, and slammed the locker shut, “the other question is whether Patrick is in.”

“Sure I’m in,” Patrick’s cheerful voice surprised you from behind, “in on what?”

“Lunch, dude,” Joe quickly made up, “I saw there’s potatoes on the menu today, and we thought we don’t want to poison ourselves, so the plan is to go for pizza.”

Patrick nodded enthusiastically, and adjusted his trucker hat.

“If it’s pizza I’m double in,” he announced, making everyone laugh, and together you walked to class.

You had to admit, since you had gotten together with Gerard, a lot of things had changed. Your former group of three had extended, and now that you and your friends also hung out with Gerard, you had gotten to know his brother, and his best friend Ray. The six of you often spent hours talking about movies or playing your favourite records, sometimes you went out to a concert or spent an entire evening cooking a meal with several courses.

Before Gerard had saved you from your bullies that one Friday, you had often spent time with Patrick and Joe, and you had always felt like you were friends. But now, you spent even more time together, which was weird because you had assumed, you would have to split up the time between your friends and your boyfriend. Luckily it turned out that Gerard got along with the two perfectly, and after hanging out with them, Ray, and Mikey, he often came over to your place, or you to his, and you spent the late hours of the evening hanging out. All in all it did not only feel like you had made more friends, but as if you had grown closer to ones you had already had.

It turned out that it was a lot more difficult to help Joe organise Patrick’s party than you had imagined. Because you were spending almost all the time together, you had to find little moments in between, when Patrick was out of the room, to talk about what you still had to discuss. And just in time for his birthday you had finally arranged everything. Joe had invited a few people from outside of school, mostly musicians he and Patrick knew from the local scene, there were some classmates, a couple of friends from Patrick’s old school, and all the people these guests would bring along. Luckily the hall would not be full with all of these people, otherwise catering, which had been your task, would have been hell to organise. This way you had found a bakery that had offered a good price for small backed goods and sandwiches, and Joe had told people to bring drinks themselves.

The most complicated thing was to keep Patrick unsuspecting, until you had him standing in front of the entrance of the hall. The entire day you had pretended to have nothing planned, and you had even started to panic mildly, when Patrick had told you that his parents were planning on going out for dinner with him, but Joe had luckily managed to have them go out before the party started.

It was needless to say that Patrick was slightly overwhelmed by the effort Joe and you had put into the party, but luckily he agreed to go in none the less, something you had been worried about the entire time. You knew Patrick easily got anxious about big events, and especially when he was the centre of attention. But now he seemed happy and faltered as all the guests cheered when he entered the hall. Soon you left the birthday boy’s side, and found Gerard, who was haning out at the buffet (where else?), together with Mikey and Ray.

“So, he actually came,” Gerard joked, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if it was the most natural thing on earth,

“He did,” you laughed, and linked your thumb into his back pocket, “he was actually happy.”

“Told you he would be,” Ray grinned.

“Yeah, yeah,” you giggled, “you were right, we know.”

Ray rolled his eyes playfully at your mocking, and grabbed another sandwich.

“So-,” Mikey looked between you, his brother and Ray, “what’s the plan for the rest of the evening?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “what do people do at parties, other than eating all the snacks?”

Underlining your comment you grabbed a breadstick, and started munching on it.

“Dancing, I suppose,” Gerard suggested, and nodded to the group of people who had already started moving to the music in the middle of the big room.

“Let’s be honest here, we all suck at dancing,” the comment came from Joe, who had snuck up from behind, surprising you. He was followed by Patrick and a guy with deep brown eyes, and dark hair.  You recognised him from one of the concerts you had been at with the guys. What was his name again, Pete?

“Then let’s dance all together, so we don’t look so stupid on our own,” Gerard shrugged, stealing the half eaten breadstick from your hand, causing you to gasped in fake shock.

“That’s a sight nobody wants to see,” Patrick laughed, but just like the others he seemed not quite as reluctant as you about the suggestion.

“You just gotta pretend you know what you’re doing,” the guy behind Joe explained, “then nobody will care.”

The group slowly moved into the direction of the improvised dance floor, in the middle of the room. If you were being honest, you had never been good at or a fan of dancing, and it surprised you the others were so keen on it; that was until you saw what they understood under dancing. It was as if all of them had silently agreed that their attempts at trying to be sexy (or whatever people were doing on the dance floor) would end in absolute embarrassment. They all were jumping around to the upbeat music, reminding you of the concerts you went to sometimes.

Gerard grabbed your hand and spun you around a couple of times, until he caught you in his arms. You giggled, feeling a suspicious burning in your cheeks as a blush worked itself onto your face. Even with the upbeat music around you, Gerard swayed slowly to the music, holding you close, not caring about the chaos of your friends jumping around you.

Smiling softly you reached up to his face, and brushed a strand of his black hair out of his eyes, making him smile as well. As if the playlist Joe had created for tonight had known how much you wanted to dance slowly with your boyfriend, the next song that came on was a slower one. You felt how Gerard let go of your waist where he had placed his hand, and instead wrapped it around your back, pulling you into him, his other hand gently holding yours. It never ceased to amaze you how different his hands were to yours; his hands elegant, but calloused, so carefully taking hold of yours, while you felt rather clumsy using your own. If he had ever noticed, he had never mentioned it. Now his warm, dry fingers closed around yours; sometimes moving slightly, brushing over the back of your hand. Your other hand, like a reflex, found its place on the back of his neck. Slowly, playfully, you wrapped strands of his dark hair around your fingers, and you grinned when you remembered how intimidated you had been by him in the beginning, you had been outright scared.

“What?”

You could hear the insecure smile in Gerard’s voice, and looked up from the button with the band logo he was wearing on his shirt.

“Nothing, just…” you took a long look at him.

It was weird. He had come across as so confident and careless the first times you had met him, and even when you had gotten together, you had sometimes wondered where he took all that confidence from. But the better you had gotten to know him, the more you had realised that, just like Pete had said, he was faking it and nobody doubted he was in it for real. It had been a slow realisation that had started just a couple of days after your trip to the beach. It felt like a wall had started to break down, a wall he had already kept thin around you, but the more he started to trust you, the more he fell for you (and you could feel him falling for you more and more each day, just like you fell for him), the more he broke down that wall, revealing the same doubts and insecurities that you did not know how to hide.

You knew he was scared you did not love him. You knew he was worried you would realise one day that you deserved more than the school punk. He did not want you to feel that way, but he was scared of it anyway. You knew because he had told you, just the other week. In the beginning you had been hurt, thinking you were not good enough at expressing your emotions for him, which were as strong as they had never been for anyone, and since it had been a late Saturday night, and you were already talking, you had immediately shared that thought with him. Which in turn had made him worry again. But in the end you had come to the conclusion to just try to stop doubting your own self-worth, and to be honest with each other, and now that you remembered how insecure you had been about him, and he had asked, you decided to share it with him.

“I just remembered how scared I was by you in the beginning,” you confessed, gently brushing over his neck, and weaving your fingers into his hair.

“Scared,” Gerard echoed, a surprised look on his face.

“Yeah, you were pretty intimidating, with your leather jacket, and the ripped jeans, and your black hair,” you giggled, gently tucking on said hair.

“You think ripped jeans are intimidating,” the insecure smile on Gerard’s lips turned into an adoring, yet amused one.

“Nah, just you in general, always getting in trouble, never smiling…”

“I do smile,” Gerard protested.

“You didn’t smile at school,” you corrected, “I’d like to think that changed.”

Gerard furrowed his brows.

“Oh my god, I was like Mikey,” he realised, making you laugh.

Indeed the younger Way seemed less expressive, but when you turned your head, you found him goofing around with Patrick and Pete by the side of the buffet, accompanied by a young boy you knew was from New Jersey, and had just moved here recently.

“Ah, look at him now, he can smile too,” you joked, and nodded to the four boys.

“Seems like it,” Gerard agreed, “I think smiling suits him.”

“Happiness suits everybody,” you reminded him, “oh, and I was really uncomfortable when I found out you knew where I lived.”

“When I brought your book over,” Gerard remembered, “yeah, you looked uncomfortable. And I was so embarrassed when you didn’t know we were neighbours!”

“Trust me, I was probably more embarrassed,” you grinned.

“Oh were you now,” he giggled, and brushed his nose against yours.

You just hummed in response and kissed him, relishing the familiar smell and taste of his soft lips.

“Get a room you too,” Joe shouted. The people around you laughed, but Gerard just let go of your hand, and flipped him off without breaking the kiss, making you smile.

You spent the rest of the evening joking around, and dancing with your friends. Pete introduced the boy from New Jersey as Frank, and all eight of you, Pete, Patrick, Joe, Mikey, Ray, Frank, Gerard and you, made absolute fools of yourselves jumping around to the music, but it was fun and you did not want it any other way. Sometimes all of you were dancing together as a group, Patrick tried to dance a waltz with you to a rock song, which worked surprisingly well, Joe spun you around until you were so dizzy you had to sit down for a couple of minutes, and all the time you knew Gerard was watching you with the same love-struck glimmer in his eyes as you were watching him.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240

MCR: @deadlovers

[lilahlefae]

An Open letter of sorts to MCR

My name's Mircalla and I've been meaning to write this out for a while.

I've had acquaintances who had recommended your music for years before I ever started listening. I finally actually took the advice about a year back. I had recently broken up with my abusive girlfriend, and just cut all contact with her. Cutting her the fuck out of my life was the right decision, but it had also entailed for simplicity’s sake leaving her figurative custody of our friend group. For the following months I was alone. I felt so empty and isolated and quietly miserable. So one year back, my tumblr dash is crazed for The Umbrella Academy, so I curl up and watch. Why not? 

And I love it. So I think to myself Fine. Fuckit. If Gerard Way wrote a source material that adapted into something this good, that band he was in is probably pretty fucking good too.

So there is where I start. In mid February, very alone, pretty depressed, and giving a new band an honest go. And it finally clicks. It feels like the music was always there, waiting just for me, for me to be hurting and needing something to make things feel better, or something to remind me to feel.

So I listen, and the music resonates with me. Your music reminded me that it was okay to be angry, and helped me remember just a little bit of how to be happy. 

Cut to a few months later, I mourn that old taped shows are the closest I can get to being there, seeing these songs live. Also the inability to find copies of The Black Parade on cassette for my car, but that’s a different matter. I write my common app essay on your music, the pleasure of singing for myself and the process of healing. It eventually pairs nicely with my grades to get me into some schools

Fast forward one month to October. Halloween to be exact. I always love Halloween. My scummy ex came near to spoiling last year’s, but this is différent. She’s gone and graduated, my Lydia Deetz costume came out better than I’d hoped, and I’m gonna get together with a pal for candy and movies after my therapy session. And then the news hits. It's incredible. I’m excited. Ridiculously excited. So amped my first reaction is to describe it as Like an anxiety attack, but in a good way. My friend is courteous enough to remind me that’s just being excited. I'm not sure. I can't remember ever being this excited about anything 

The Shrine show comes. I make an instagram account just to watch it streamed. The night before, I can barely sleep, it feels like what the capitalist narrative surrounding christmas tells us christmas eve feels like. I'm so excited it’s hard to go to sleep, I just need it to be tomorrow.

And tomorrow comes, it’s the last day of school before my winter break and everything feels perfect. 

And then it is.

Due to my inability to make LA, Japan or the UK, I hope, desperately hope for a North American tour. And my hopes are answered. There’s a show. A show in a neighboring state. I’d hoped for something nearer, but beggars can't be choosers here. 

3 and a half hours that's the drive from where I’ll be this fall to Tacoma

So the fateful Friday arrives. I sit in front of my computer for hours waiting for 12. I rewatch old videos and reread My Immortal while I wait it out. I’m not the first in the line, but I manage to pry a ticket to the Tacoma show from Ticketmaster’s irritating clutches. It’s absolute nosebleeds, but it doesn't matter, I’m so ridiculously happy 

So, yeah. I meant to write this then, but I just didn’t. Having this go out valentine's day is a kind of happy accident. I guess what I want to say, simply speaking is:

Thank you for having been, and for indirectly helping me through a really dark place.

And thank you for coming back. It means the absolute world to me.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 4

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.The dogs in the story play a minor but key role.

Word count: 2.8k

Part 3 <<< >>> Part 5

MASTERLIST

                Peter had had an entire argument, from start to finish, with himself over whether or not to do what he was currently doing, and he wasn’t too sure who won in the end, but the fact remained that he was now climbing down the side of Emmeline Gerard’s building to get to her balcony, and possibly scare her to death.

                He knew it wasn’t his most brilliant idea – it wasn’t even a good idea – but he didn’t know how else to hear from her. He had met her now, as himself, and not just Spider-Man. He technically could have asked her if she was alright, but that wouldn’t have worked. Most people don’t just confide to near strangers. She had had a longer conversation with Tessa than him after all.

                And why would he ask her that? He wasn’t supposed to know anything happened to her. It would make her suspicious. It would maybe scare her off and she would never speak to him again.

                Peter didn’t want that. Peter wanted to sit next to her in class once he grew the courage, and he wanted to ask her if she’d like to have lunch some time.

                Instead, he was hanging outside her window, watching her read on her couch, legs tucked under her, Bella lying on her back next to her, foot twitching in that way it did when a dog was dreaming.

                He knocked on the window and she frowned, looking at the front door. He knocked again, seeing her look at the window this time and dropping her book in surprise, slamming a hand over her chest.

                She got up, Bella in her wake - she woke up when the young woman cursed loudly upon seeing Spider-Man outside her twenty-second-floor window.

“What in the goddamn hell are you doing here?” she hissed in a whisper as she slid open the window and stepped onto her balcony.

                Bella, who must have remembered him as being there when her mistress had been attacked, growled until Emmeline shooed her off, approaching from the dangling silhouette.

                Peter expected a warmer welcome but then again, he was technically trespassing, so…

                He let go of the web and landed on the tiled balcony, standing up slightly taller than her. She wore blue slippers with fluffy pom-poms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Just checking in,” he told her.

                Emmeline stepped back. He had caught her in a moment of relaxation at home, she was wearing sweatpants and probably no bra and stiffly held her robe closed over her chest. When he said that, she looked taken aback.

“Oh.” She seemed to realize she had just verbally attacked her savior for no reason at all and embarrassment tainted her cheeks. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect-“

“It’s nothing,” Peter assured her. “I’d freak out too if a dude wearing tights hung outside my window upside down.”

“Glad we agree on that.” She nodded with a little smile. “So, uhm, I’m fine. Thank you again for what you did.”

“Are you sure?”

                Emmeline stared at her feet and wiggled her toes inside her slippers.

“I- yeah, yeah I’m good. Nothing happened in the end, you came before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’m not gonna talk to you about my problems, that’s what therapists are for and surely you’ve got more important things to do than listen to me.”

“I just finished my day.” He shrugged, deciding to sit in one of the iron chairs around the small round table that stood on the balcony. “I have nothing else to do.”

“It’s almost midnight, sleeping would be a better activity.”

“I have my morning off, I’ll sleep in to catch up,” he countered.

“I don’t, I have class in the morning.”

“You weren’t sleeping when I arrived,” he argued, watching her narrow her eyes at him.

“Don’t play smarty pants with me. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I’ll treat you any different than other men.”

“Ouch!” Peter clutched at his heart but stood up still. If she didn’t want to talk, then she didn’t want to talk. “I’ll leave you alone if you do me a favor: talk about what happened to someone. A friend.”

“Blackmailing me, are we?” She raised a brow and clicked her tongue inside her cheek. “Fine. But I decide when I’m ready to talk about it. No time limits.”

“No time limits.” Peter shot his web upwards to climb up again. “By the way, Bella doesn’t count.”

                Then he disappeared, right when he saw her open her mouth to argue.

 *

                 Ned gaped at his friend when on Monday, in their Introduction to Mechanics and Biomechanics lecture, Emmeline smiled and waved at Peter. Both of them looked behind them to see who she was smiling at but saw no one. It really was for Peter!

“What was that? Since when do you know her?” Ned questioned, watching Peter smile back like a total goof and wave slowly as if he couldn’t believe she noticed him. “Didn’t she yell at you’re the last time you looked her way?”

“Ugh, I guess you could say we turned the page,” Peter said with an enigmatic smile and a shrug. “We had a chance encourage this Friday.”

                He ended up explaining everything to Ned since he kept insisting on getting all the juicy details because “wow Peter, this is major! You’re finally on speaking terms with the girl you’ve been pining after since Freshman year”.

“I haven’t been-“ he started to deny then saw the look Ned was giving him. “Fine, I may have noticed her, but it’s nothing crazy, I’m not forgetting myself whenever we’re in the same room. You’re always making me sound so lame, dude.”

“That’s because you are. Like, no offense, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a hopeless romantic and all your brain cells drop dead whenever she looks at you.”

“They most certainly do not!” he objected, sounding so much like Tony that he had to take a second and reflect on his life.

“Sure,” Ned said, clearly not believing a word of it. Then he proceeded to mimic the way Peter had waved at Emmeline, dumb smile and all.

“Okay, yeah, maybe I get a little awkward around her, but who doesn’t? Even teachers get all fidgety when she speaks in class.”

                It didn’t happen often because she rarely raised her hand, but he really had seen grown adults get nervous around her. Of course, back then, he didn’t know she was the mayor’s daughter. Neither did Ned. He didn’t share a lot of classes with Ned, they had chosen different specialties.

“That’s because she’s the mayor’s daughter, they all think she can get them fired if they say something wrong,” Ned told Peter. “And the biochem teacher doesn’t do that. She gives zero craps about your girlfriend’s pedigree.”

“She’s not my-“ Peter groaned and threw his head back, closing his fists in frustration. “Forget it. You’re right, I’m the lamest guy in this whole city, and we’ll probably never move past speaking terms, so can we drop the subject now?”

                Ned hadn’t meant to upset Peter, but the truth in what he had said stung all the same. She was the mayor’s daughter, she was out-of-this-world pretty, and she was smart and intimidating. She was great with dogs too apparently, and while it could have played in his favor to have something so close to their hearts in common, it was ruined by the fact that his dog running away was literally the reason why they had shared a conversation the other day. At best she thought him clumsy, but it was more likely that she thought he shouldn’t even own a dog if he couldn’t do something as simple as go on a walk without losing her.

                He didn’t have a single chance with this girl, he was deluding himself.

                Just when his thoughts were getting darker, the lecture started.

 *

                 Three days after that eye-opening moment, when Peter had accepted that his little crush was a dead-end, she had waltzed into his life again. Peter was sitting at a table in a nearly empty library this early Thursday morning when someone dropped a pile of books next to him, even though the long table was entirely void of people.

“Hey, can you-“ he began before setting his eyes on the person standing behind the chair to his right.

“Can I what?” She smirked, pulling back the chair and sitting down. “Can I fuck off and find an empty table?” She laughed.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Peter objected, already mentally cursing himself. “I swear.”

“Oh, I know,” she assured him. “You’d have said it way more politely.”

                Everything Ned had said and every self-deprecating thought that had bloomed in Peter’s mind since Monday resurfaced and he didn’t know what to say. Say something Peter, just say whatever comes to mind, but don’t just sit there with your jaw hanging, he admonished himself.

“Don’t sweat it,” she added when Peter finally opened his mouth. “I’m not going to bother you, I just thought it’d be silly to sit at the end of the table when you’re right here. Is it okay if I stay and study with you for a bit?”

                His heartbeat slowed down a bit and he felt slightly better. That was the problem with putting people you didn’t know on a pedestal: you end up having wrong ideas about them. Emmeline undoubtedly had a strong personality and wasn’t afraid to say things as they were. But she wasn’t haughty or trying to intimidate anyone.

“Sure, I was beginning to feel lonely anyway,” Peter told her.

“I never realized you came here this early too. I like to walk my dog when there’s few people outside, so I come here after, since I’m awake anyway,” she explained, flipping the pages of her manual to find the right chapter.

“I get nervous where there are too many people around me, so…” Peter shrugged and only then realized what he had just said. Holy f***, he was socially inept. Quick Peter, change the subject! “M-maybe I’ll meet Bella one of these days.”

                Emmeline looked up and frowned.

“How do you know her name?”

                Shit, shit, shit, shit. Today wasn’t his day.

“You- uh, you mentioned it last time, when you found Tessa.” A big fat lie! Hopefully she wouldn’t question it.

                Her expression shifted to one of acceptance and she nodded with a little hum.

“Are you studying for the exam next week in Differential Equations?” he asked, deeming it a safer conversation topic.

                It was an advanced class with only a handful of students, and she was in it too.

“Uhm, no. I’ve got that covered, I think. I’m here to finish the assignment in Molecular Genetics.”

                Peter didn’t have that class, he took Microbiology.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to help me she chuckled.” She must have seen the panic on his face when he realized he wasn’t in that class. “But if you need me to help with D.E. I can.”

                He didn’t miss the mischievous air about her when she turned down his help but offered hers. Peter had to smirk to himself, feeling like she had somehow won this conversation if such a thing was even possible.

“Noted,” he said, accepting defeat – this time.

 *

                 Without thinking much about it, they had both developed new habits since that day Peter had saved her from her assailant.

                Ned was wrong, Peter had to believe it. He had to believe that she wasn’t so far out of his league that she wouldn’t even look his way, because she did. Emmeline Gerard looked at him, talked to him, laughed with him. And he could feel himself get deeper in deeper every time he saw her stunning dimpled smile.

                The other side of the coin was his visits as Spider-Man. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see a side of her that she didn’t show to Peter Parker, or anyone else for that matter. Somehow, she didn’t treat him any different than she did when he wasn’t wearing a mask, but she acted a little different.

                He could tell she told him things she wouldn’t share with anyone but Bella – who had grown accustomed to Spider-Man’s random visits and now accepted pats and ear scratches from him. Perhaps she thought her secrets were safe with him because she trusted him after he saved her from sexual assault, or perhaps it was because he didn’t have any motive to spill them, Peter didn’t know. But she did confide in him nonetheless.

                He knew that her father bought her this flat when she was got her bachelor’s degree. What a gift for a barely out of high school teen! She had taken it as a not-so-subtle way of being kicked out of the bigger and much fancier penthouse he shared with her mother.

                She had never felt much like home there anyway, so she came here and adopted a dog. She was an Aries; she didn’t like coffee; she couldn’t stand horror movies; she was allergic to cats; she read poetry in her spare time; she made an impeccable impression of Gollum and had a broad knowledge of obscure Lord of the Rings lore.

                Peter Parker didn’t know most of those things, but Spider-Man did. And as days and weeks went by, he was starting to feel he might be stagnating in his relationship with her. She didn’t open up and bare her soul to him the way she did to Spider-Man when it was near midnight and they were both sat on her balcony (she never let him in) and talked like old friends.

                Peter felt as though he was in competition with himself. Peter feared she might like his other self better than his actual self.

“So,” Peter started, sitting Indian style on the tiles, rubbing Bella’s belly now that she liked him well enough to roll on her back and show him her most vulnerable part. “Did you talk to a friend, like we agreed you’d do?” he inquired.

                He hadn’t forgotten her promise, even though it has been two months now.

“I haven’t forgotten but I-“ She paused and rubbed her arms. It was late November; it was starting to get too cold to have these chats outside. “I just don’t know who to talk to. I don’t have this kind of friendship with anyone.”

                It hurt to hear that. Peter tried not to show it.

“No one at all?” he pressed her on, hoping she would say his name, his real name.

“There’s…” Emmeline sighed, looking skyward and deploring the lack of stars here. Of course, she knew the stars were there, rationally. But after not seeing any for a while, she began to wonder if they were here at all. “No, there’s no one. No one I would share this kind of personal stuff with anyway.”

                He didn’t seem happy with her answer, she noticed.

“Isn’t it enough that I tell you? You only made me promise that because you didn’t want me to bottle up my feelings after all.”

“I see the way you act with me. Like I only exist to you when I’m here and not outside of this balcony,” he told her, and she couldn’t have missed the sadness in his voice if she had tried. “You talk to me the same way you would write in a journal you intend to burn once full.”

“That’s not tr-“

“It is, even if you haven’t realized yet,” Peter insisted.

Maybe it was wrong to come here twice a week to check in on her, to hear about all the things she did not tell him during the day. All the things that she didn’t tell him, period.

                It felt like cheating. When he talked to her as Spider-Man, she told him things that she didn’t want to tell Peter Parker, and it was wrong of him to listen to these secrets.

“I won’t come back after tonight,” he announced, having decided to leave her alone. He had to do this right if he really liked the girl – and he did, God he liked her.

                She didn’t even attempt to argue, further confirming his sentiment of not even being real to her. 

“Oh.” She looked disappointed but that was it. “Alright. I guess you couldn’t have come here forever.”

                No, he couldn’t have. He only wished he had realized it sooner.

                Spider-Man was a mask, and Peter had allowed himself to forget it because it allowed him to be close to the girl he liked. It was easier than being Peter Parker, awkward nerd who had set his eyes on a girl who was out of reach.

“You’re a nice girl, Emmeline,” he told her, refusing to use her nickname. “You might think nobody cares about a rich girl’s problems, but I’m sure you have friends who would listen. Just have a little faith.”

                Have a little faith. It was a solid piece of advice that Peter was committed to follow too.

.

.

.

Reblog to save a writer

[pentanguine]

Songs Asks

1: A song you like with a color in the title                 Blue Dahlia, by The Gaslight Anthem

2: A song you like with a number in the title August 17th, by The Spook School

3: A song that reminds you of summertime Don’t Let It Break Your Heart, by Coldplay

4: A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about Stalemate, by TSSF; Mock, by TSSF; Solo, by…TSSF…you know what, the entire self-titled album does it for me

5: A song that needs to be played LOUD House of Wolves, by MCR (or anything by MCR, honestly)

6: A song that makes you want to dance Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya, by The Dropkick Murphys

7: A song to drive to Cliffs of Dover, by Eric Johnson

8: A song about drugs or alcohol It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You, by The 1975, which also happens to be one of my favorite love songs

9: A song that makes you happy Elle me dit, by Mika

10: A song that makes you sad This Hunger Strike cover by Chris Cornell and Chester Bennington

11: A song that you never get tired of Know Your Enemy, by Green Day

12: A song from your preteen years Well…having just used up Know Your Enemy, by Green Day, I suppose I will out myself as a big fan of Rockstar, by Nickelback, which I used to listen to while playing Wizard 101.

13: One of your favorite 80’s songs I think I’m the one person alive who’s not super into the 80s, but I do love Walk of Life, by Dire Straits.

14: A song that you would love played at your wedding I suspect Heterosexuality is a Construct, by Onsind, would be considered a confrontational choice and not go over well with my family, so…Don Quixote, by Coldplay? Because it’s mostly sweet and upbeat, and part of it was used in another unreleased track called Wedding Bells.

15: A song that is a cover by another artist Going to California, by Amy Lee (Led Zeppelin cover)

16: One of your favorite classical songs Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, because I don’t actually listen to classical music but I do love the Trans-Siberian Orchestra

17: A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke Uh…Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart, by Against Me? A Part of Me, by Neck Deep? They’re both breakup songs but I can’t think of anything else.

18: A song from the year that you were born God of Wine, by Third Eye Blind

19: A song that makes you think about life Dear Future Historians, by Enter Shikari

20: A song that has many meanings to you Lisbon, by Wolf Alice. I honestly wasn’t sure what to put for this one, but Lisbon always gives me such a confused tangle of emotions, so I guess that’s having “many meanings”

21: A favorite song with a person’s name in the title Donnie Darko, by Let’s Eat Grandma

22: A song that moves you forward Animal Arithmetic, by Jónsi

23: A song that you think everybody should listen to Harlem Roulette, by The Mountain Goats

24: A song by a band you wish were still together I feel like I’ve already mentioned all the bands I’d usually talk about (MCR, The Gaslight Anthem, The Spook School), so I’ll go with Far Too Young to Die, by Panic! at the Disco with their Brendon/Dallon/Spencer lineup. I know they’re technically “together,” if by together you mean Brendon Urie is still using the name, but it’s just not the same.  

25: A song by an artist no longer living Werewolves of London, by Warren Zevon

26: A song that makes you want to fall in love Home, by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

27: A song that breaks your heart Dasher, by Gerard Way

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love Sour Breath, by Julien Baker; everything by Julien Baker is incredibly fucking sad, and nowhere is she more anguished than the end of Sour Breath.

29: A song that you remember from your childhood We Will Rock You, by Queen; the first song I ever loved

30: A song that reminds you of yourself Friday Forever, by Trophy Eyes