#+ and this is leaving out msi's long and storied use of the n-word

[gogetyrshovel]

i want it to be understood that i (woc) do not think lynz way is like any more racist than the average white liberal gen x-er but like. the amnesia lately around the weird shit she's said and done by white mcr fans is strange. yes it was largely misogyny + parasocial stuff that made people call for their divorce or whatever. "i want to stay in an ashram by the ganges" is not something i can unread tho lmao

[sw33tsuccubus]

You

frank iero x reader

desc: You had no reason to think that your boyfriend was doing more than playing shows - per usual - until your friend shows you a video.

genre: angst

inspired/requested by: myself

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i wrote this to channel out some pent up emotions i've had for a while | i envisioned this as an aftermath of the events that took place during ProRev. i do not ship frerard/grank or whatever you people call it | i named the friend after a friend of my own (she doesn't like MCR so this is a jab at her)

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn't suspect anything. To be fair, you had no reason to.

Frank was off on tour with the band, and you were stuck at home, continuing work. It was perfectly fine; you called and texted everyday, updating each other. You didn't normally have much going on, but his stories were always interesting.

Little did you know, he wasn't telling you everything.

Yes, he was playing onstage with the band. But there were other things he was doing onstage and offstage he wouldn't tell you about. He avoided the very topic of those events, not wanting to hurt your feelings.

You were going to get hurt anyways.

You knew Frank and Gerard were close, but not that close. Close enough to watch movies together and confide in the other in their darkest of times. Not close enough to make out with each other on stage and then proceed to do some things.. off stage.

You were just so happy for your boyfriend that his band was basically number one. They were talked about everywhere, they were being invited on tours, and their latest album was a huge hit.

You were excited for him to get back home. There was only a month left; you could wait that long. It wasn't like one of the tours they used to go on, where they had to leave a week after they got back.

~~~

y/n: so mikey's not gonna be back for the rest of tour?

frank: no, he's off in la la land with alicia. can't believe he took off the whole tour just for a wedding and a honeymoon.

y/n: maybe this means they will be together for the rest of their lives.

frank: yeah, maybe.

frank: did you have a good day at work?

Just as you were about to send a response, you got another text.

mari: hey, y/n?

y/n: yeah?

mari: remember i snagged that ticket to a my chem show?

y/n: oh yeah! yes, i do.

mari: it's in two days!! do you want me to take pics for you?

You smiled at the thought of it. Frank had been growing out his hair, and you weren't one to deny it. He looked good.

y/n: that would be nice.

mari: i got you.

You started to put your phone down when you got another text notification.

frank: y/n?

y/n: oh, sorry. it was good. how's tour been?

frank: well, today we got to hang out with msi. they're pretty cool.

y/n: that's great!

frank: i miss you, you know. i wish you could have come.

y/n: i couldn't have. sorry babe, work requirements.

y/n: now goodnight. i want energy for tomorrow.

frank: goodnight. sweet dreams.

~~~

Hearing a knock on your door, you paused the TV and walked towards it. Upon peeking through the peephole, you found out it was Mari behind the door. Finally, you thought. She had only waited two days to come to you.

"Where have you been? I've wanted to see the pictures you took!"

Mari stepped inside, although she didn't say anything. She walked into your house, dropping down onto the couch and looking up at you.

"You okay, Mari?"

"Just.. you'll see. These pictures.. I took a video too. I thought you would enjoy the song. Boy..."

You were struck with confusion as she pulled out her phone. What footage did she have? Thrashing, as usual? That would explain her worry. Most people would think that he hurt himself.

Taking her phone, you looked through the photos, trying to contain a smile. You were right. He looked hot with long hair. As his partner, you approved.

Only when you got to the video did you have a feeling of uneasiness. You didn't know why; it was just a song.

Boy, were you wrong.

Halfway through the video was when it happened. You felt as if your insides had been flipped, like a pancake.

There Frank was on the screen, making out with Gerard. His best friend. His bandmate. Your friend.

Feeling her eyes on you, you turned to Mari. She had a look of sympathy pasted on her face.

"I'm sorry Y/n. Especially that this is the way that you found out."

You shook your head, trying to ground yourself. There was no way your boyfriend would do this. Right? Surely it was just to excite the fans.

But you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on.

You could always wait for him to get back home so that he could tell you, but.. you wanted to know as soon as possible. You couldn't wait that full month.

~~~

Your boss had let you skip out for the month, or however long you were going to be gone. You made the excuse of a dead relative and that you were extremely close to them. He sent you home with greatest regards, saying he knew how you felt.

Right now, you were currently backstage at a concert venue, unknown to a certain boyfriend of yours. Who happened to be onstage.

You were watching the movements of both him and Gerard, trying to connect dots. But you didn't need to. They did it for you.

You weren't sure how it happened, but it did. Gerard was kneeling at Frank's side, an arm around him, when Frank started humping him. It went on for a few seconds before Frank walked away, leaving Gerard there to sing.

You, on the other hand, felt sick. You turned around and went to the bathroom, sitting in the farthest stall. You only left a few minutes after you heard the music stop.

You showed up at the dressing rooms, and you had to make a decision. There was your boyfriend, who you didn't even want to see right then and there. There was Gerard, the one Frank was most likely cheating on you with. And then there was Ray, who hadn't done anything wrong. You would talk to Ray, but.. you couldn't help yourself. You needed just a glimpse of Frank on his own, to make sure he was still him. The Frank you knew wouldn't ever hurt you.

You turned the knob to Frank's dressing room as silently as possible, opening it just slightly. And that was when you felt your heart shatter.

Two men, both in their underwear, making out against the dressing room vanity. There was no audience for them to entertain. What were they doing?

You closed the door, trying not to cry. They shouldn't know you were there. You weren't sure why. You could have marched in there and yelled at the both of them, but you didn't have the willpower.

Turning around, you ran out of the venue, looking for a taxi. To hell with all of them. Sure, Ray didn't do anything regarding their activities. But he could have told you.

~~~

You had ignored every text sent to you. Frank, Gerard, Mari, Ray, hell, even Mikey was messaging you at this point. They all got worried when you started missing every single one of Frank's calls. Mari was just worried in general; you had told her your plan and she had wished you luck, but she hadn't heard from you since.

Getting out of bed, you walked to the kitchen to make yourself coffee. You hadn't gone back to work yet, afraid you wouldn't do things right and make others mad.

While waiting for the coffee to brew, you checked the calendar nailed to the wall. If you had the coffee at that moment, you would have dropped the mug.

Frank was supposed to be home today.

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You couldn't face him. You weren't ready. When you heard the coffee maker go off, you grabbed a mug and poured yourself some of the liquid. You took a sip, burning your tongue.

You poured the rest of the coffee down the drain, taking your mug with you to the living room. You sat down on the couch, taking sips and staring at the wall. You needed a way to approach the subject in a way that wouldn't hurt Frank.

At that thought, you furrowed your eyebrows. Why should you worry about his feelings? He destroyed yours, so why have mercy?

No. You wouldn't be like him. Maybe he didn't use words to hurt him, but actions speak louder than words. To be fair, nothing you could say could counterattack what he had done.

Suddenly, you had a plan. You grinned to yourself, knowing tomorrow wouldn't be the same. But were you ready for that? You shared friends.. but Frank was the one who had messed up. Surely they would be more on your side than his.

~~~

Frank was excited. Sure, Gerard had gone and broken his heart. But he could see his other lover, Y/n. Along with excitement, he felt worried as well. Y/n wasn't answering anyone's messages. Were they okay?

He grabbed his key from his pocket, unlocking the door. He grabbed his bags back up and walked inside, dropping the bags in the foyer. Stepping into the house, he saw it was clean to perfection. He hoped it was because Y/n had just cleaned and not because they hadn't been home for a long time.

"Y/n, babe, are you home?"

"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen!"

Frank grinned and ran in the direction of the kitchen. He had missed his partner very badly.

Upon spotting you, Frank stepped towards you and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You played along, kissing his cheek and giving his hand a squeeze.

"How was the travel back?"

"It was kind of boring. But I knew it would be okay since I was coming back to you!"

He smiled at you, and you felt your insides churn. Would you have fallen into his trap if you hadn't known? You shot your eyes open, feigning sudden remembrance and pointed to the refrigerator.

"Oh! Frank, could you get the milk from the fridge?"

He nodded and walked to the fridge, grabbing the milk. And then he saw it. He grabbed the small box from the fridge, behind where the milk was.

"Babe, what's this?"

He walked towards you and placed the milk beside you, holding up the box. It was the kind that would hold a ring. Wait; were you proposing?

"It's a present, Frank. Open it up."

Seeing the smirk on your face, he responded with a cheeky smile. Opening the box, however, caused his smile to be replaced with a confused look. Instead of a ring, there was a carefully folded piece of paper.

"When did you take up origami?"

"Just for this. I hope you like it."

"I do! It's beautiful."

"Unfold it."

He quirked an eyebrow before looking at the creases. He observed for a moment before unfolding, doing his best to not damage the paper.

When he read the message, he felt like the floor had been yanked from under his feet.

'I know what you did, cheater.'

Frank took a ragged breath before looking back up at you. He regretted it. You had anger in your eyes, and your face just looked like you had seen someone get murdered. Fear, pain, and anger. Such a strong combo of emotions.

"I loved you, y'know."

"I love you too, Y/n. Listen, it was just a misunderstanding. We did it for the fans!"

"So fucking in your dressing rooms, where no fan is allowed, is for the fans?"

Frank winced. How did you know? Did - did you visit and see them?

"I hope you're happy with Gerard, because you clearly weren't satisfied with me."

You started walking away, and Frank felt his entire world slip from his fingers. This couldn't be happening. He loved you more than anything. More than Gerard, even. But Gerard was out of reach too.

"But.. Gerard got married!"

You turned back to face Frank, eyes widened, and he felt a small shimmer of hope. When your eyes narrowed however, he felt a pang of guilt. Not a pang; a tidal wave.

"Good for him. Hope they're better for him than you. Pack up all your things and get out of my house."

There were tears streaming down both of your faces by this point, and Frank hadn't even gotten to say what he wanted to.

"Y/n.. it wasn't my fault! I missed you, and I couldn't wait-"

"Do you think before you speak? Must you blame everything but your doing?"

"But, Gerard-"

"Frank, shut the hell up. Listen to me."

He stood still as you walked over to him. He flinched when you poked at his chest.

"You. You are to blame. You did this yourself. You, you, you. Do not blame Gerard. Do not blame anyone but yourself. Okay?"

Sniffing, Frank nodded.

"O-okay."

"Now get out. Ray will most likely help you. And you better tell him the truth."

Frank sighed, nodding sadly. He hurried up to the shared bedroom collecting his things, before moving to the bathroom. He grabbed everything of his belonging and walked back to the door, grabbing the bags he had brought on tour.

"Y/n? I truly am sorry."

"Save it, Frank. Get out of here."

Frank closed the door behind him, walking to his car. He was now glad you two had separate cars. After throwing everything into the trunk, he climbed into the drivers seat and wiped his eyes.

He drove to Ray's house, knowing that he could offer some sort of sanctuary. When the man opened the door, he was taken aback. There Frank was, tears running down his face, bags beside him.

"What happened?"

"I..."

Ray watched as Frank sniffled, wiping his eyes free of tears. Of course, they streamed back down his face right after, but it was something to do to stall.

"I fucked up."

[laceymorganwrites]

The damn jacket

Word count: 2,210

Pairing: none rlly

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, like a sentence of Mötley Crüe slander xD, um bad structure??

A/N: this is a mess. modern AU, kinda character analysis, idek but it was fun. Inspired by @pirate-shrimp  (if any of u catch the MSI reference I will marry u on the fucking spot)

Kid had bar vibes. He was the kind of guy you found sitting in the corner of your local pub, just far away from the others not to be forced into a conversation but also not far away enough to seem lonely.

He was the local phenomena of the man you didn´t want to get close to but whose story you wanted to know at the same time. The guy who pushed people away because he was more scared of hurting them than being hurt.

Hell, he doubted he could get hurt anymore at this point, over the years he´s lost so many friendships, been betrayed so much by the people he considered the closest to him, it was laughable.

Maybe that was why he didn´t let anyone get close anymore, why he always seemed so distant, his thoughts stuck in a past long gone or perhaps a future he knew he´d never have.

A good for nothing college drop out, those were the hard facts he had to face every day.

It wasn´t because he was dumb that he quit, far from it. Kid wasn´t thrown out, he quit himself because college was too restricting for him. There were some classes that were nice enough, but working towards exams really wasn´t his style, he wanted to do something, anything really.

People like him didn´t have it easy, society measured your worth in degrees and results. But what if the way was so much more fun than the end result?

Kid had a lot of jobs to make a living, never staying in one though, he got bored so easily. How could anyone expect anyone to keep doing the same routinized thing for over 40 years? It was insanity. To him anyways.

Being punk, never fitting in, living the life of sex, drugs and rock n roll…. It all seemed so much more fun than it really was.

Kid´s band was a bad ripoff of Mötley Crüe, though some might argue that the band itself was.

Yes, he fit into some stereotypes that he was so sick of hearing: playing in a band, being that eccentric lead singer that caused too much trouble for his own good, though the second part wasn´t true anymore. Lately he just wanted people to leave him alone.

It was nice being a small town band, the bonds with your audience were so much stronger, it felt like hanging out with friends rather than playing a show for money. Kid never wanted that feeling to end, he never wanted to end up like those big bands who lost their spark, who lost that glimmer in their eyes, their racing heart when Killer counted and initiated their first song, the immense feeling of belonging whenever the crowd would sing his words back to him.

This.

This was what he was made for. Passion. That was what was missing when he was studying, he needed to do things, be that sketching or tinkering with his car or writing everything down that was going on in his head.

In truth Kid started writing because it all got too much, too many fake people around him, too many people acting like his best friend and leaving him cold the next day, too many people telling him they loved him and then spitting at him, gossiping behind his back.

A part of him missed the times when he cared, when he was shocked and hurt by this. By now it´s become so common, like the energy drink before work.

Kid didn´t have the dream rockstar life, not the one where people looked so cool shooting up in those movies, that shit was fucked up and society was sick for portraying it like that.

He only had bad experiences with drugs, living in a small town like this he saw the addicts everywhere, sad creatures who couldn´t support themselves anymore, who got dependent on things that destroyed them because nobody would help, because nobody gave a shit about them. Why would they? They were good for nothings who couldn´t work ten hours in some shitty job that didn´t pay them enough to pay rent.

The system wasn´t corrupt? Yeah, bullshit.

The problem he faced was that of a fleeting society, a society that sped up so much, never once slowing down and looking around to see what was out there. They never thought about expanding their horizons.

Schoolings were looked down upon, but at the same time cheered for. It was so strange… the craft was dying but also needed.

Nothing held value anymore, nothing lasted, nothing strove to.

Kid was happy with his life as it was now. He hated being selfish and arrogant but learned that a certain amount was needed to survive, you needed to look out for yourself before you could look out for anyone else. A local rockstar, frequent bar visitor, the best mechanic in town. All those fit him so well but at the same time he looked the part, oh how he hated it sometimes. The acquaintances he made because of his looks, because people spread rumors about him, making him more myth than man, it was pretty tiring.

Especially when they all were disappointed by the rather bland truth.

Not that Kid was bland in any way, it was just that people expected so much more from him, they wanted him to be this rebel, this punk, this heartbreaker.

Expected him to have tattoos and piercings but the truth was that he had such a low pain tolerance it was embarrassing. Yes, he bore every punch and kick he ever got without any complaints because there were parts of him that told him he deserved it, parts that hated him more than anything else.

Just try it…. there´s nothing you can do that I haven´t already done myself, you can´t hate me more than I hate myself.

Ah yes, the typical phenomenon of this generation: being way too soft and overly sensitive.

That was it, they weren´t more considerate and aware of their mental health and other people´s wellness, of identity and morals, of things that got swiped under the rug because ´it was always this way´. Why the fuck would people so desperately try to keep something misogynistic, racist and homophobic up? Just because it existed the majority of time doesn´t mean it was a good system.

Fuck, it never was.

And Kid was sick of everyone playing down those things. So what if he was a fucking crybaby and didn´t get humor? He wouldn´t take this shit anymore, yeah it mostly didn´t affect him but he got angry beyond belief for the people it did affect.

It wasn´t fair.

He couldn´t do anything? It wouldn´t matter anyway? It wouldn´t make a difference? So fucking what. He´d never know if he didn´t try.

Just now Kid finished up his work at the garage, closing up shop for the day. It was a busy day, many people who were driving through came to him to do a check up, others came by for their regular reparation. He loved that busy meant fun in his world. He was so fucking happy that he could do the things that brought him joy, that burned like a fire in his heart. And no, he didn´t care how cheesy that sounded.

Washing his hands and closing the door behind him he called Killer to let him know he was done. Killer was also just now finishing up his shift at the record shop. Now was their time to rehearse, band practice was always the best part of the day, though quite honestly most of the time it was just the guys hanging out and having a good time. And they wouldn´t have it any other way.

Kid grabbed his jacket and locked the doors before making his way to his car.

The jacket. That damn jacket.

It was where it all started. He bought that old thing from his first ever pay at the garage, his boss told him to spend it on something nice for himself, something that´d make him a man. He didn´t ever ask what he meant by that, his boss said weird things at times. But this was true, at least in a sense.

It was the first time Kid ever stepped foot inside of a second hand store and it was like heaven revealed himself to him, it was pure paradise. Just going through the aisles, finding treasures like no other, it became one of his favorite things to do.

The jacket was the first thing that ever caught his eye, the firs thing he purchased. The black leather with the yellow and dark red details, the skull on the back… it was calling to him. Those were his favorite colors, he didn´t even have to think about it before he bought it.

But what about it made him a man? It was just a jacket after all. But that´s where you´d be wrong.

It was so much more than that.

The very next day he started wearing it religiously, he noticed people staring at him at the streets but this time it wasn´t because he was a loser, it was because he looked fucking cool. The jacket boosted his confidence immensely. And it showed.

His boss complimented him and said that from this day on his journey was only beginning, and how right he was with that.

It was the day he reconnected with his high school friend Killer, he didn´t even know he was back in town, let alone working at his favorite record shop and searching for a band to play drums for. So Kid got his first guitar and played it to death, jamming with Killer and searching for others, thus meeting Heat and Wire, the coolest guys on earth.

He grew so much, finding more and more passion in his life, only his jacket stayed the same. He decided that it was time to change that.

Kid went to the crafts store and bought red leather protectors with a quilting pattern, sewing it to the shoulders of the jacket. He also decided to pimp the skull, making it his own personal jacket in painting on the goggles he wore at work, two knives as a cross because it was edgy and of course: his hair. His untamable hair that would never hold up so he got used to wearing any sort of silly glasses, sometimes even the goggles from work. Hair gel was a lie to him, so was hairspray.

He painted bright red flames in homage to his dyed hair, yeah, it wasn´t just a phase.

Everything was coming together.

He grabbed his stupidly large square blue sunglasses that made him look like a dad. Yes, Kid had a dad style. He loved second hand shirts more than anything, not the boring ones, the ones with the stupidest prints, he wore dad shoes like no one´s business and he was proud of it. He was the cool dad, the cool dad with the big car and puns that were so bad they somehow got good again. But damn, did he have talent with words. Screw not being able to formulate shit in speech, that man could write like a god, or rather the devil. Because, let´s be real, the devil sounds so much better on the mic.

Starting the engine, he drove home to at least make some room to sit for his friends, on the way he shopped for groceries too. Now that he was home he got the snacks, drinks and notebooks ready as well as the tons of pens where he never knew which one worked but never threw any away because somehow he thought he´d exchange the mines. Yeah, as if.

He threw on a black shirt and some black joggers before tying his hair up into a tiny ponytail, still his bangs fell in his face as always. It was annoying so he clipped them back with some black hair clips. He didn´t care if he looked stupid with that, at least he could see clearly now.

But getting a hair cut? No way, he looked too cool for that.

Kid opened the door when the others came and sat down on the couch with his acoustic guitar, lately they decided to play around with reimagining their songs after supporting and motivating Kid to sing rather than growl. He had such a nice guttural and gruff voice, these imperfections when singing, the edges just made the song that much more genuine.

Listening to Kid you just couldn´t help but get mesmerized, the way his biceps flexed when he held the guitar, the emotions in his eyes, the way he frowned and squinted whenever the lyrics got emotional and close to home, it made you want to protect him, to keep him happy, to keep this alive, this wonderful world he created for himself.

The others also scribbled down ideas and practiced new melodies, tried out new lyrics and solos. After a while work mixed in with private chats and the night faded into distant, nostalgic laughter and the crinkles around Kid´s eyes that showed how much it all meant to him.