#and i will always find a reason to post about gerard

[starstruckbyacomet]

On the Break-Up

Tarlos vs Tevan

People had mentioned that Tevan's break-up is similar with Tarlos', which may indicate a reunion in the near future. The only similarity I can think of is that both happened because one half of the pair wanted to move the relationship forward, while the other half was reluctant. On the other hand, I find several differences between the two which are quite alarming:

1)) Rafael Silva was/is a main cast. He wouldn't go anywhere. Lou is just a guest star.

2)) Tarlos is the only queer couple on Lone Star. 9-1-1 OG has already one queer couple: Henren. So far, I haven't found any shows marketed towards the general audience, which have more than one queer couples who got a happy ending.

3)) Both Tim and Oliver agree that Buck is always a bit promiscuous. This trait is even deliberately shown when Buck was tackily eyeing a woman in the middle of his anniversary dinner with Tommy! Neither TK nor Carlos has this trait. During 5 seasons of their up and down relationship, neither TK nor Carlos has ever shown attraction to other people. Tim also posted a video in his Facebook page about how a character shouldn't change so much on a TV show. It could be an indication that he has set Buck as an eternal bachelor, who was destined to always search for love, while bedding multiple love interests until the season finale.

4)) Tarlos' break up didn't feel out of character. Although it happened off screen, and the reason was disclosed much later in the storyline, the explanation made sense. On the other hand, Tevan's break up is out of character for everyone involved:

Tommy used to be very mindful about other people's feelings. In 7x04, he was aware that he had created a wedge between Buck and Eddie, so he visited Buck to clear the air. This Tommy wouldn't get into a relationship, if he knew he couldn't move to the next step.

Buck who had always been clinging and pursuing people who had left him (Abby, Maddie), would not let Tommy go without fighting for their relationship.

Bobby who has said Tommy was good for Buck, and Henren who have questioned Tommy about his intention with Buck, would not standby watching the break up without saying anything to either Buck or Tommy.

5)) Although in the middle of a break up, there was a sense of continuity in Tarlos' love story. We saw both TK and Carlos struggled with the break-up. We saw people around them were concerned and questioning, as if they want Tarlos to be back together. This doesn't happen in Tevan's break up. The only sign that Tommy has been struggling is #TommybubblesBuck. We see mostly only Buck is struggling, while people around him indicate that they want him to move on (by hiding his phone instead of encouraging him to talk to Tommy like an adult!). It feels like the purpose of showing how much Buck has been struggling is to remind the audience that Tommy is as important as Abby for Buck, because Buck was also struggling when Abby left.

6)) Buck didn't even seem struggling while he was interacting with his team or Brad on episode 8x08 "Wannabes". This is different with TK and Carlos who carried their feelings almost all the time during their break-up period.

7)) Overall, the way Tarlos' break up was executed more thoughtfully indicates that it is an important milestone in their continuing love story. Tevan's break-up seemed poorly written and rushly executed, as if just to put a lid on a box. It seemed that the way Tim viewed Tommy is similar like he viewed Gerard and Ortiz: as loose ends from the prior season which need to be tied up asap, before being discarded like used tissues. Tim even preferred to give more attention to Brad Torrence, his shiny new toy. This was not happened in Tarlos break up.

Despite all the discouraging signs, I couldn't put off the tiny hope which is still flickering in my heart. I love Tevan too much, and it feels like I have been fighting more for their relationship than for my own 😅. With all the above signs, I'm afraid that the only chance for their love story to continue is by:

keeping the rating/viewership low until Tevan reunited on screen.

[cuffmeinblack]

Military Seb just reminding me of the best music video of all time.

[awsugar]

speaking of questions that exercise very mcr specific muscles in your brain. i was perusing mychem tumblr the other day and came across a masterpost about the SS/mayo blog frerard lore (i’m aware frerard is not PC these days thanks obama). i’ve been a dedicated fan for over a decade now and my brain is an mcr lore bank but i had literally never heard of this. do you know about it and if you do what are your thoughts

omg yea. ss/mayo is crazy. and unfortunately a lot of it has been lost to time and its not even saved on wayback. theres some stuff thats convincing, theres some stuff thats not.

so like lets preface this by saying that the ft willz myspace? confirmed to be frank. and obviously the stuff posted on skeleton crew, those screenshots of ft willz works that look like theyre on burnt paper? yea so those are confirmed and those are real fully frank no questions.

i personally am a skeptic of other accounts that claim to be ft willz. like the tumblr? i do not think thats frank. and i think that came at a time when people had already really speculated or figured out that ft willz WAS frank. so like i think the tumblr is honestly just someone who was pretending to be frank and managed to sort of emulate his style but yea i don't think it's him. i think the reason some of the stuff hits so hard in a frerard sense is because that was intentional by the person writing it. you know.

anyway ss and mayo. there were two blogs on blogspot started in 2007 i believe that fans thought were frank and gerard. well it started with mayo (its-mayonaise.blogspot.com). that blog is still up and so are a lot of the posts but i think a lot of them have been deleted as well, and not saved anywhere on wayback. im sure theyre on someones hard drive out there but i haven't seen them. then a blog appeared called iamthemodernprometheus.blogspot.com. some of those posts are still up but most are gone. that was ss/sss/shitsubou shita/frank (allegedly). ss started interacting in the comments on mayo's blog. and i think i may have read some mayo blog posts back in the day but i haven't been able to find them to answer this one. i just remember when i joined the fandom most people thought it was gerard.

now here's a couple things of evidence. THIS is a blogspot comment thread where people who have saved some of ss' blog posts put them in the comments. and yes obviously it could be an elaborate hoax by two fans who were invested in frerard. but like these things were being posted as it HAPPENED. you know? idk i wasnt there in 2007. but 2007 was when the fanfic took off and we really informed a lot of our perception of what happened with frerard on things like ft willz/stuff that happened on stage/and a lot of these posts really fit into the timeline. i would recommend reading that because its kind of hard to believe its like. a teenager pretending to be frank. it really just SOUNDS like frank. and he's really writing blog posts. basically to gerard lol. it gives the impression that they were on tour together (projekt rev) and doing the Thing but like there was def tension going on behind the scenes and we already know that thats true. frank didn't like eliza and thought gerard was moving too fast, the imnotokay.net post came from someone in mcr's camp that ppl thought was frank (or maybe brian) and then tbh its happening again?? just months later? it makes complete sense that if frank thought gerard was moving too fast with eliza that he DEFINITELY thought he was moving too fast with lynz getting MARRIED to her backstage just a couple months? after breaking off his engagement with eliza. anyway just read the comments. its very easy to believe its frank.

and then the other peice of evidece i found in this reddit thread: x comment in particular by u/ReallyKapu. they say that they have always gone by Kapunua online and that they met frank at a lm show, gave him a hat with the inscription 'sss' inside and later on he thanked them for it on the blog.

sure enough:

from what i've read it seems like the blog was actually a community. there were people who followed it and made friends in the comment section. and it does seem implausible but it looks to me like frank saved all of his gifts from tour and then made this post specifically thanking people for them. the person who claims this is them also says that they don't think mayo is actually gerard but that frank thought it was.

and i've seen stuff saying that if it wasn't gerard it was probably someone close to the band because they had like information that was posted on the blog that wouldn't come readily available (or make sense) until the show the next day.

anyway, i wasn't there for this. i was on the forums and twitter and tumblr for a LOT of mcr history but this was a little before my time and i think if i had been there OR if the blogs had actually been preserved in some way that i might be able to form a better opinion. i think theres a lot of evidence for frank, not sure about gerard. but i won't claim that it's true either bc we really don't know and this one i don't think we ever will!

[theboombutton]

Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data

WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .

----

You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.

You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)

But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.

Bad Fictional Data

Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.

Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.

I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.

For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:

Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.

Now check out the last ten names:

Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.

My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.

Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.

Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.

We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?

What the fuck?!

(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)

My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.

My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.

These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:

What if it's on purpose?

Fictional Bad Data

There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?

If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?

There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:

Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.

Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.

Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.

Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.

Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.

Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!

And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?

One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)

But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.

Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.

My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence

Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.

They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?

----

* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.

[otherone12]

I Don't Need a VIP Pass

Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Heyy!! This fic was quite short, but I really think it turned out well… anyway, I don't think there was any reason to extend it. Hupe u enjoy it!

(Plz sand me requests! Literally anything... )

Summary: You are a non-public Gerard's partner, 'because you never really cared about put this under the spotlight, 'cause you love each other and thats enough for you. He invited you to see MCR's concert, but you didn't found him anfter the show. Looking for him, you went to the "meet & great" area, but you haven't a VIP pass.

- Word Count: 900

- Warnings: None :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

The crowd’s cheers still echoed in my ears as I maneuvered backstage, a mix of adrenaline and nerves coursing through me. MCR had just put on an epic show, and all I wanted was to be with Gerard, like we always do after shows. 

Our post-show meetings are practically a ritual. Right after the show I meet him backstage, then we go to the hotel and enjoy some of the quiet time we have during the tour. When there's a meet-and-greet, it's customary for us to see each other beforehand, and I stand nearby waiting. But this time I couldn't find him anywhere.

- Did anyone see Gee? - I called out, trying to maintain my composure as the backstage chaos unfolded around me. It was usually easy to find him, everyone here knew I was his girlfriend, and I never needed any pass or else. But tonight, the backstage area felt like a maze, and I was losing my sense of direction.

- Good luck finding him! - Frank joked as he rushed past me. - He’s probably off kissing some fan or something.

- Ha, very funny, - I shot back, rolling my eyes. But my heart raced with a mix of annoyance and concern. He always made it a point to find me right after the show. Why was this time different?

I made my way toward the meet-and-greet area, where fans buzzed with excitement, but my stomach twisted when I couldn’t spot Gerard’s familiar bright-red hair in the crowd.

A couple of girls, probably around my age, stood near the front. They looked like they knew everything going on so I approached them casually.

- Hey, have you seen Gerard? - I asked calmly - I’ve been looking everywhere for him.

One of the girls immediately gave me the up-and-down, zeroing in on my neck.

- You don’t have a VIP pass. - she said, in an affronting tone.

- Yeah, I know, - I forced a smile, tryng to keep calm - I don’t need one.

I kept my eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

- Well, we paid for ours, so we do need one. - Her friend snorted and rolled her eyes. - If you don't have a pass, you're not supposed to be here.

Her voice dripped with that Karen-level smugness, making my skin prickle.

- I’m not here to meet the band, I’m just looking for Gerard.

 I said, trying even hard to keep calm. My patience was wearing thin.

She crossed her arms with a mean smirk.

- Well, too bad. If you don’t leave, I’ll get security.

I took a deep breath, again, forcing myself to relax, though anxiety and frustration gnawed at me. Where the hell was he?

- Look, I don’t want trouble, -  I said, my voice tight. - I just need to find Gee-

- SECURITY! - she yelled, cutting me off.

A wave of exasperation hit me like a truck. Great.

A large security guard lumbered toward me, parting the crowd with the sheer size of his presence. 

- Where’s your VIP pass? -  he asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

- I. Don’t. Need. One. - I clenched my jaw.

- Why do you think you’re so special, huh? - The obnoxious girl made a loud scoff, apparently trying to get as many people as possible to look at the whole scene

I was about to open my mouth and replace her. The things running into my mind to say that weren't friendly at all, but when I saw Gerard, weaving through the crowd, with that cute smile I loved so much and his hazel eyes sparkling under the dim lights, relief flooded me.

- Gee! - I called, waving at him.

- Sugar! - His face lit up when he saw me. 

 He practically ran over, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

- There you are, - he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. - I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

- So was I,- I said with a grin, running my hand along his cheek and pulling him in for a proper kiss. 

His lips met mine slowly, sweetly, in that overly dramatic way only Gerard could pull off. And, of course, I made sure the smug fan saw every second of it.

When we finally pulled apart, I glanced at her. The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth agape, disbelief painted across every feature. I couldn’t resist shooting her a wicked grin.

- That’s why I don’t need a VIP pass, - I murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

- What? - Gerard blinked, confused but amused. 

- Never mind.-  I held his leather jacket, pulling him for a kiss again, smirking against his lips before pulling away. - But next time, babe, can you make sure I get a VIP pass?

I know that wasn’t nice for me to doing this, but damn it was so fun. I made sure to get the most touchy possible while we’re talking, hands under his jacket, hugging him.

- Why? - He raised an eyebrow, grinning.

- Because I really don’t want to have to punch your fans. -  I wrinkled my nose playfully.

- You wouldn’t-

- Oh, I would,- I teased, cutting him off - For you? In a heartbeat.

He let out a soft whine, squeezing me tighter. 

- But they’re not like groupies… just enthusiastic fans, babe, you know that.

I gave him a sly look. 

- Sure, Gee. Whatever you say. - I packed his lips one last time before we walked away together.

___________________________________________

~ Soo that's it! Lemme know if u liked it! <3

[twistedastrology]

- Cancers at their worst -

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

i just saw an ig post (no shade to the original poster) that said a cancer's dark side was everything they are stereotyped to be (extremely emotional/sensitive, are way too kind and always think people are judging them) and as a cancer that may be about to go neurotic again rn im gonna tell you from my personal experience what a cancer's dark side is actually like.

like i said though im going off of mostly just my experience so if this doesn't resonate, my bad- i did my best 🙏😔

to understand the nature of a cancer at their worst, you have to actually understand water and its potential volatility.

remember when i talked abt cancers and rage and how i said cancers are fire-coded (cardinal) water? keep that in mind for just abt this entire post.

fire is pure energy, and so is water, water just has more space to hold said energy- where fire burns out quickly, water doesn't dry out that fast at all especially if you have an ocean specifically.

people who say cancers (or really any water sign honestly-) are crybabies and switch moods every 5 seconds do not understand what water really is and this topic makes me a little livid sometimes because those are the same people that made me not like my rising sign for a long time.

to understand a cancers rock bottom, think about what water can do.

tsunamis can kill hundreds of thousands of people if they're big enough.

hurricanes, and sometimes tornadoes, form over water when the temperature is right.

the pressure at the bottom of the ocean can crush almost anything in an instant except for what has specifically evolved to live down there.

rain can lead to insane flooding (fellow floridians remember hurricane ian 2yrs ago 😕)

we have explored less of our ocean than the space around us, can you imagine what oceans on other planets would be like? especially the planets or moons that are almost Entirely water?

water represents emotion, yes, but when we boil that down to water signs being overly emotional, it doesn't make any sense and it makes some people, at least the ones that are like me, ashamed of their water placements because our society loves to say "emotion = bad." when obviously that is not true.

But if we wanna talk about the actual dark shit, aka my jupiter in scorpio's favorite shit, u gotta strap in.

Cancers feel more rage than anything.

i talked abt this specifically in my cancers and rage post, but it's true for this as well.

to use myself as the example, whenever i feel depressed or upset for some reason (like today), it's never just that sad feeling, it is always accompanied by a distinct anger because i get pissed that i feel like shit.

but if that rage doesn't get its way, or worse, gets too much of its way, i can succumb to a state of misery or, at my worst, neurosis, where multiple god awful things happen.

im not one to stay down for long, the last and first time i went neurotic, it only lasted for a week until i snapped out of it, but it was still very damaging.

cancers at their worst will feel an urge to self-destruct that may or may not be uncontrollable depending on other placements in the chart and of course how shitty they feel.

they will find something detrimental to do and if they genuinely can't, they will instead just mentally rip themselves open and daydream about what it would be like to just completely lose control and fall into a self-destructive spiral.

that's what happened to me when i went neurotic. one wrong decision and, having no access to anything that would take a toll on my physical body, i ripped myself to pieces in my head and almost fell in love with the act.

like gerard way said, there's something very romantic about it.

cancers can get moody, yes, but at this point they'll go mostly numb and tearing at their soul is the only thing they enjoy.

and then the pain will catch up to them.

once that pain catches up to them, two things will happen.

they will begin to realize what they've been doing and how pointless it is, and they will activate a duality within themselves of the desire to hurt and the need for pain relief.

they will tear at themselves even more, knowing they shouldn't be doing what they are, but it's a vicious cycle.

this will happen, and then the potential for redemption begins to boil over.

after being in the dark, blissfully hidden depths of their own mental ocean, they will realize they can't breathe anymore, and they will either suffocate themselves or snap their eyes open and swim up until they see the light they deprived themselves of for however long.

once they've made it to the surface, they gasp to catch their breath, their tears being of the need for pain relief winning against their desire to hurt.

now the water is not a personal vice, but a cleansing presence that makes them feel understood. the water gets it. the water would never judge them for what they did.

after being in the dark embrace of the depths of the ocean for so long, the light finally hitting your eyes makes color seem so much more vibrant.

- 🌙 -

all this to say that, at their worst, cancers can succumb to self destruction like no other, but they have the drive to keep them going to even them out.

they don't just cry all day or switch moods 24/7, they fall into a vat of water that, the deeper they go, reveals more and more of their very soul.

it's the deepest level of shadow work, it's the pain no one wants to go through because it's the pain of losing your personal momentum and then having to find it again in an instant before it's gone forever.

OR i could be totally wrong idk But this is my experience!!!! ✨💞💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨ God belsls!!!!!!!!

my bad that was real dark and poetic writing now i gotta balance it out Uhhhmmmmm Legalize nuclear bombs. 💥

[theslowestpoke]

Appreciation Post for Noah Stilinski and Chris Argent

Teen Wolf is accidentally a show about shitty parents. In all of Beacon Hills, Noah and Chris are the exceptions to the rule of bad dads.

Rafe McCall

Alcoholism

Domestic violence

Abandoned his family

Bullies his son's best friend re: his own father's alcoholism, aka

Superiority complex

Actively endangers multiple people because he can't listen to his son for five minutes

Derek's Dad

Does he exist?

If he existed at some point, he fumbled Talia, so

Mr. Martin

Shows up to Lydia's parent-teacher conference and immediately assumes she's making trouble and has bad grades, indicating he has never bothered to get to know her

He does come to the hospital after Peter mauls her, but the risk of nearly losing her doesn't change his behavior, so this is performative at best and manipulative at worst

Coach Lahey

I mean, do I need to explain?

Physically and verbally abusive to at least one of his sons

Threatened a kid who nearly drowned at his house because

He let a bunch of teenagers drink underage at his house

I have a feeling Isaac getting a job at the graveyard wasn't a choice or a paying gig, but it's definitely not OSHA compliant to have one person under 18 on the night shift by himself and operating heavy machinery for the exact reason that we see happen in Omega

Peter Hale

He can be forgiven for not knowing about his kid for 16 years because that knowledge was literally stolen from him (a point against Talia Hale, don't come for me) but

Once they both know about it, he continues doing his creepy villain bullshit and nearly gets said kid killed multiple times

Gerard Argent

Seriously

Not even touching his bad grandparenting,

Militarized his children with dangerous, xenophobic rhetoric which he has deliberately misconstrued to serve his own means

Could not give a single shit if either of his kids die in the line of duty, whether it is avoidable or not

Manipulated his daughter to such extremes that she groomed and sexually assaulted a child in order to murder his entire family

Decided it was fine for his son's first solo mission to be an arms deal with the literal Yakuza, supernatural elements aside

His big endgame plan was a betrayal of every ideal he ruined his children with and he was going to just carry on acting like that was fine

Elias Stilinski

Guess what, another asshole

Verbally and physically abusive to his wife and son

Continues to be verbally abusive and emotionally manipulative during moments of lucidity from his dementia

Chris and Noah are not perfect fathers, but they are <b>good</b>, which is what matters.

Noah has been dealt a bad hand in life, losing his wife while their son was so young, and he's tried very hard to break the cycle of violence while learning how to be a single father. He did have issues with alcoholism in the past, although we only hear about that from other people talking shit or when Stiles is poisoned with wolfsbane, so the true extent may be exaggerated. He almost always handles Stiles' neurodivergence and propensity to get himself (and others) into trouble with patience and understanding, unless it puts someone in danger.

Chris also broke the cycle of violence, trying his best to shield his daughter from the dangers of the hunter lifestyle until she was old enough to make a choice for herself. When that protection was forcibly removed and she was manipulated by everyone else in her family, he never stopped trying to help her see reason, including joining forces with his lifelong enemies to bring her back home. He also recognizes the missing pieces Isaac needs when he starts hanging around, so he pulls that kid under his wing, too, a remarkable show of character growth from his handling of Allison's last boyfriend. He did kind of forget that Isaac isn't legally his and then abduct him across international waters, but everyone grieves differently, I guess. Unless we find out explicitly what happens to Isaac in France, I'm going to assume the best and that Chris didn't just abandon him there with no resources.

Anyway, fandom talks a lot about Melissa McCall and, obviously, she's doing an amazing job, but she's not the only one.

[jerseymuppet]

This is a bigger, more nuanced issue than most people will be capable of handling but I’m so tired man. I’m not saying you need to find Pete Wentz innocent or even like the guy, I’m just asking you to think critically and acknowledge that there might be a reason why this is happening to one of the only black men in the scene.

And before anyone says ‘I didn’t know he was Black’ or ‘that’s not common knowledge’ I need you to know that I see you. I see you jokingly call him other black celebrities names (because that’s always so funny) and I saw you when you shared a link to a article that used uncomfortably racist language in reference to him as proof (cushioned lips?? Call him mammy why don’t you?) or when he wore his hair natural and people called him a monkey. I saw you. Me and all the other brown people here. We saw you. I’m not stupid, I know you know. I’m done letting the schrodingers nigger shit slide, I’m not gonna let you guys claim him as white when it’s convenient for you to be excused of racism. Your words about someone who looked like us made our little baby selves—bright eyed and so happy to find somewhere we belonged, same as you—hate ourselves. I hated looking like Ray Toro, because he was princess fro fro and you all said it in the most derogatory way possible that even he thought he was ugly. And I hated looking like Pete wentz and I hated looking like travie mccoy and I hated being black and I hated being myself. And it was this scene, that’s supposed to be for outcasts and the people that didn’t fit in but god forbid you don’t fit the mold of white with Christian/catholic trauma.

I’m a victim of grooming myself, and I understand that sometimes you don’t have evidence or you don’t want to talk about it and that’s okay! But I’m also black, and I remember being a kid and watching everyone and I mean everyone throw Pete Wentz under the bus because he was an easy target. Everyone did it. He was one of the biggest names in the and he was mentally ill and black and spiraling. This whole situation hasn’t sat right with me from the beginning. No one talks about brendon urie being a predator, and I see plenty of ryden shippers on my dash still. No one talks about Gerard way and Eliza cuts. I know you people don’t actually care about this poor girl. This is all just clicks and clout and notes for you, and it’s so obvious considering all of the people I’ve seen posting negative things about Pete are self confessed misandrists and Lynz stans and waycest shippers.

But what do I know.

[drinkpisser]

HOW IT CAME TO BE, CHAPTER 6 !! 🛸👽⭐️

so,, hi!! :3 I know I went on a whoooole tangent last time about how I was gonna take a break but for some reason every time I do that I end up becoming even more motivated to post/write and this chapter was basically made in almost record time ( ・д・) aaaaneewayz,, I've figured maybe the way to go is to write slightly smaller chapters so I don't burn out so quick 🙏 BUT YEAH!!!! ENJOY AND THANK YOU FOR READING IF U DO !!! <3333 :D🫶

READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER !! 🪐

begin reading chap.6 under the cut ‼️

CHAPTER 6: WE'RE NOT JUST DREAMERS

Gerard, Ray, Jamia and Frank had decided to meet up on a brittle Autumn's day. Tragically, they soon came to learn that Gerard being the oldest meant he was the only one able to drive without legal measures obstructing their stride.

What did this cause, you ask?

Well.

"Gee, pick us the fuck up! We're freezing out here!" Frank yells down his cellphone, wind muffling his voice.

Gerard, already exceeding the speed limit, hits the pedal with his foot twice as agressively than before.

"I just got offa' my shift, dude, wait!" He screams back with a struggle.

Thrusting towards the sidewalk with a "skrrrt!" of the car's wheels, Gerard manages to find Frank and J (a nickname acquired for Jamia) waiting outside the local burger joint, munching away with cold hands from holding their XL shakes. Almost instantly after they pile into the back, the car shoots off. J shrieks, a good half of her burger flopping onto her jacket, now glued together with artificial cheese.

Mikey, hiding under his hair, clears his throat as though he is intimidated. Pushing up his cracked glasses and sniffling, he shuffles around in the car seat.

"You okay, lil' brother?" Gee asks, noticing his timid mannerisms.

Mikey nods, "I still don't know these guys very well is all," he sheepishly turns to them.

Frank and J are now kissing passionately in the back of Gee's shitty Golf GTI. Frank briefly sideyes his poor witness, pulling away from J considerately.

"Yo," Frank grunts. J smiles. Mikey waves.

Gerard hits a sudden and sharp stop, turning to the rest of his companions- Mikey nearly flies out of the window, thank god for seatbelts.

"Where's Ray?" Gerard wonders.

"Not at a fucking gas station." Frank stares directly at the camera. What? There's an imaginary camera representing the audience?

"I swear I haven't seen him, since, like, last week. When we went to the skate park." J adds.

"Well, I walked him home and stuff after that but he hasn't said anything about cancellin' on us today," Gerard observes, "I think I'll drive to his house cause he ain't here." He points to the outside of the café where Ray had supposedly arranged to meet about half an hour ago. Gee zooms off once again.

Zoom!

Ray's house can only be described as modern- like your average, run of the mill family home. He hadn't moved out yet, unlike Gerard, so chances are if something is wrong, then his parents will answer the door; Ray always rushes to the door when he knows Gerard is behind it.

Gerard shuffles along, hauling his ass out of the car in a slight panic. Gee knocks three times.

"Coming!" A voice chirps from behind the door. Thank goodness, It's Ray. Opening the door, he whistles unknowingly.

"I totally forgot about meeting up, sorry I'm late! Uh-" Ray stumbles on his words.

"What's goin' on?" Gerard quizzically stares, tilting his head slightly.

"You see, erm," Ray gently grabs Gee by the collar, ushering him inside like its some secret operation that they're gonna go out and get cookies after this.

Gerard wide-eyedly blinks, going along with it.

"Yknow, everyone's in the car." Gerard suggests passively.

Ray opens his bedroom door, kicking away some clothes blocking their entry.

There sat two extraterrestrial beings on his unmade bed. One angelic, however animalistic, and the other slightly grotesque- similar to a guard Gerard had seen on the mothership. Somehow, Ray didn't see the resemblance and just let them right in to his home.

"I made some friends today!" Ray exclaims with joy, clasping his hands together.

Gerard stands gulping in petrification.

"Th-th-the the-" Gee shakily points a finger, as though he is about to detonate.

"What? They're just people, Gee! They asked about you, actually. Rico and Sly ring a bell to ya'?"

"Sly's one word for it," Gerard squints in speculation, "but it don't ring no bells to me." His fear shifting to anger, he stares deadpan at the two aliens who's gazes increase in sincerity.

"Rico" appears to be analysing Gerard's every move, from the way his mouth awkwardly jerks to the left as he speaks to the delayed seconds between each blink of his eye. They've met before. That blinding, white aura radiating off of her skin screams familliar to Gerard like a kettle on a stove. The absence of light makes it easier for Gerard to distinguish her features, just plain old missable stuff- like her blank third eye resting on her forehead, or the scales running down her body. Despite the intimidating presence she gives off, she could easily be percieved as attractive, unconventionally.

All at once, he remembers.

This is a face only he'd see again when his time was due to leave planet Earth.

But why? Why today? What about his friends? His little brother waiting in the car?

"They said something about you needing to go with them? I dunno, family-friend emergency?" Ray informs.

Gerard, his lips beginning to tremble, shakes his head repetitively.

"I can't go yet." He persists through suppressed tears.

"I just can't. Why don't we-"

"There's no need, Gee. Just go." Ray had suddenly begun to act odd, or had Gerard just suddenly noticed?

The more he thought, the more that dawned on him.

Ray isn't this gullible, right? Letting total strangers in, (in our case, aliens) and believing them when they want to whisk Gerard away somewhere unknown? Ray couldn't ever endanger his best friend like that.

"You need to go with them." He adds.

The doorknob behind Gerard had started to insistently creak, before opening with a hustle. Behind said door, entered a paradoxical sight. Another Ray, wearing Gee's striped scarf that he had lended to him, cozied up in his winter coat and his hair tied back under his wooly hat. Behind him, stood Frank, J, and Mikey, who had come along in pure bewilderment.

"I was INSIDE the cafe, dumbasses! It's freezing out there!" Ray exclaims.

"What the fuck... Am I seeing double?" Gerard questions, double taking back and forth between the two Toros, beginning to feel lightheaded and faint.

The three quickly notice the absurdity of this situation, gasping and shrieking at the cloned Toro. Cunning as they are, the aliens always have an instant, emergency resort to being caught. Dissapearing, making Gerard out to be some fool.

The Ray that had lured him into the house begins to disintegrate, it's skin reducing itself to nothing but sands of atomical matter. All that remained of it was an anatomical skeleton hanging on the wall.

Likewise, Gee also begins to dissapear, losing consciousness upon the uncanny sight of his best friend's face melting off, and he flops face-first onto the carpet.

Momentarily, his surroundings cannot decide where they are. Shifting, like a cracked chromatic abberation. Perhaps it's the underlying fear of waking up on that damned ship, lying next to the guilt of unfinished interactions and sayings of goodbyes. Of course, this didn't happen. He just remained. On Ray Toro's carpet.

Without allowing himself a minute of recuperation, he sits up with haste.

"You all saw that, right?!" he pleads.

The three had sat around Gee in a huddle, as though they were whispering away their conflicted thoughts.

"Hello?" he sneers with slight annoyance.

"I told you all that he wasn't lying. I believed him since the beginning!" Ray defends, rushing over to his drawer of handmade tinfoil hats and conspiracy magazines and waving them around enthusiastically.

"Yeah, well, I dearly apologise for not wanting to be involved in some body-snatching shit!" Frank snaps.

"Maybe we should be more concerned as to where he went," Jamia intervenes.

Huh?

Gerard rubs his eyes, soon finding that he was watching from a screen. He struggles to grasp hold of any materialised items, before ripping a virtual headset off of his eyes. The room, if it is one, is dark. Darker than the nights at summer camp, especially without the radiance of the moon keeping him company. Registering the slight malice of the unusual spying eye machine, he tosses it against the solid void, hearing the crash which allowed Gee to confirm the precise proximity of this ambiguous area.

Something taps him from behind, holding a flashlight, visualising the essence of a metal door blocking Gee from uncertain freedom. He hastily turns around in apprehension, before momentarily losing his tension.

"Oh, Lola, it's you," Gerard fails to hold back a slight smile, "You've grown quite a bit."

Lola, who now is less pint-sized and more adult sized, stands up from their sat position, towering over Gerard. Of course, it isn't intimidating at all- moreso, it feels protective and almost reassuring.

"But-" he pauses, growing in upset.

"That means they didn't keep to their fucking side of the deal!"

Lola shakes their head, as though they themself had realised something was wrong with the establishment they'd grown up in. Unsure of any other method of interacting, they open their arms for a comforting embrace.

Gee, disoriented, slowly lies into Lola's thick, fuzzy fur, clinging. Lola truly is the alien-critter depiction of a teddy bear, if there isn't already one. Residing within the two laid an innately strong sense of trust, and by the lonestanding fact that they'd been imprisoned together, it was made clear that their bond was about to strengthen even further.

Tears well up in Gerard's eyes semi-automatically, grateful for Lola's presence but resentful towards the cliffhanger he'd been pushed off from, not being granted a chance to leave the way he had anticipated or had been promised. All he wanted was to say goodbye, leave things in tact. Now, to him, it's all destroyed. Pointless; every friendship that he'd lived around had hit an iceberg eroded by exasperation- and he couldn't even do his usual, futile act of overexplaining the strange phenomena revolving around it.

"Goddamnit," he sniffles, eyes puffy and words slurring, "why can't it just be okay for once?" Gerard weeps into Lola's shoulder.

With their soft paws, they stroke Gee's fluffy ginger head of hair and hold him tighter. They sit together for a little while, not speculating or discussing a plan of escape, but adjusting to eachother's company. Close, but wary. Friendly, but not quite friends yet.

Lost in thought, but on their guard. Perchance they'll escape, or maybe they won't. For now, it's a waiting game. Nonetheless, Gee can't help but wonder from here on out:

How is it going to be?

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

seeing as you are a fellow mcr enjoyer i have a question for you of the utmost importance: do you think mike wheeler would like mcr or not

OHOHOHOHO YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE ASKED ME THAT. you just need to know beforehand before i am doing the answering of this uestion that i am ooo osooooo normal about this topic. trust me. the most normal

ok.

he absolutely likes mcr are you kidding me look at this man

he's struggling with his mental health, he's struggling with his sexuality, he's idolising a dude with long hair, piercings and pronouns, he's trying to be more metal. it's right there. plus the fact that he is just like me fr fr so i am going like this

and giving him all of my interests + autism (BECAUSE I SAID SO)

so. the question is, what's his favourite album. what's his favourite song. which one of the members does he have a crush on. does he read the killjoys comics. does he listen to summertime at 4am and cry and think about will. ("the song as a whole is about those people you meet who pull you out of your sleep, and make you wake up to real life, the good, beautiful things...")

i think mike would have a contentious relationship with bullets, it took him a long time to get as into it as the other albums, one week its his favourite, one week he hates it etc etc. his all time favourite album is three cheers and he actually told me that himself so idc. black parade is a very close second though, and disenchanted will always make him feel feelings.

favourite songs from all the albums: Our Lady of Sorrows and and Honey This Mirror and Headfirst for Halos (<< ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME IT IS SO HIM) and a smidge of Demolition Lovers. as a treat.

Give Em Hell Kid (BFFR!!!!), The Ghost Of You (another one that makes him feel The Feelings and will get an emotional reaction always. UM SEASON ONE??) and Cemetery Drive.

I Dont Love You, Disenchanted, and Teenagers absolutely. (are you fucking kidding me??? the most mike wheeler songs EVER and i will die on this hill nobody TOUCH ME),

Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back (his self sacrificing instincts are showing), S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W (at first he hates it, but after he reads up on the lore and the whole TTLOTFK thing he gets way into it), and Planetary, for no reason other than it sounds great 👍

EDIT: Conweap his favourite overall is cw5 and his fav songs are Burn Bright, The World Is Ugly and AMBULANCE

he absolutely looked at gerard way and said i need that man's gender RIGHT NOW and was just absolutely in awe of all his tour outfits and woke will up in the middle of the night to show him a video of cheerard with a flamethrower. that was a big 'wait i can dress less masculine if i want to??' thing and helped him find his personal style i think. and i also think. he has a n eeensy weensy teeny little crush. on gerbar. shh.

also.

look at this dork.

this absolute cringefail loser.

this nerdy nerd nerd.

the absolute second that mike finds out there's a comic that inspired danger days, he s p r i n t s to the local bookstore and cleans them out immediately. he binge reads them for like two nights straight and wakes will up constantly because look look LOOK WHAT HAPPENED WILL NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY-- he then spends the next month entrenched in killjoy lore and ends up with posters up all around his and will's apartment like this

trying to figure out the universe. (he also writes fanfiction but nobody tell 🤫)

anyway. this is a. bit of a long post and as you can tell from my introduction i am so so so so normal about mike wheeler, mcr, and my precious little headcanons.

tldr: yes he would love mcr and no one can take that away from me.

[thewordworrier]

'Til You Sometimes Come And Tug My Sweater

[It's a bit more of a... Character Commentary piece than anything, I think. A reflection piece.]

Shelly's not the only one who thinks she suits a sweater.

Word Count: 4,400 words. Notes: ~ Title from "Fortnight" by Taylor Swift, feating Post Malone. ~ new Taylor music means a new piece inspired by it somehow - you know the drill by now. ~ OH LOOKIE HERE! ;) ~ I'm a little -wriggles hand- about a few parts of it, but not totally unhappy. But I can't keep looking at it.

~#~#~#~

Shelly Sketcher liked sweaters. She liked thicker ones in the winter and lighter ones during those weird, between season weathers. She liked to pair a cardigan (normally in some shade of pastel) with her ‘work wear’ - it gave her a much gentler appearance than a blazer did, and sometimes that worked well in her favour. Of course, sometimes only a blazer would cut it - it gave off a different impression. So, she’d wear a blazer if she had to, but for the most part, she really did prefer a sweater of some description.

It quickly turned out that she wasn’t the only one who thought she suited a sweater. Frank would often make comments about her sweater-covered chest - something about sweater puppies - but he would be so charming about it all that Shelly couldn’t find it in herself to really mind too much. Plus, her and Frank’s relationship was just flirty and playful like that. She never felt… Weirded out or… Icky about the way Frank flirted with her. If anything, Shelly felt comfortable and safe with him. Which is why she never minded when she felt him playfully pawing at her sweaters until he got her attention. 

He would also unzip her hoodies and act like he was going to zip himself into them with her. That amused her a bit - though she knew that he’d never actually do that because it would stretch out her clothes. But he would often threaten to do that, just to mess with Gerard. Even more so once Shelly and Gerard actually got themselves together. He found it funnier, for some reason, to do it after the fact.

Frank was especially grateful for her sweaters when it was colder and he was sick, because when he was sick, Shelly was especially attentive towards him; double and triple checking his temperature, his hydration levels, whether or not he’d taken his meds, if he was hungry or thirsty, and if he was tired, she would often sit with him and encourage him to nap. If he was good, if he did as he was told, he’d get to nap against her shoulder, chest or in her lap. And that was especially comfortable if she was wearing one of her sweaters; because she didn’t dabble in scratchy ones - oh no. All her sweaters were always so soft. And they always smelt really good; either like her perfume, like they were freshly laundered or like one of the fabric sprays she had for their clothes.

Lux was the next one to like her sweaters. 

Once the girl had learnt that Shelly was safe, that all Shelly wanted to do was care for them and protect them, that she always had their best interests at heart and wasn’t there to judge them, only then was Lux much more amicable to opening up to the older girl. Especially when the younger of the two wasn’t feeling so great - she would end up standing closer to Shelly, and would hold onto the hem of her sweater. Mostly, because Shelly’s hands were normally busy with her phone or dealing with one of the guys, but also because a gentle tug as Lux gently gripped the waistline of Shelly’s clothes was much less obvious than Lux just approaching Shelly and verbally asking for affection and/or attention. 

This actually worked for Lux, because sometimes she still found it hard to show her feelings, and she found it especially hard to ask for help. She found that using little signals such as small gestures, seemed to work better for her. They did at first anyway. Back in the beginning. As she grew more comfortable with her position in the band, and observed how freely Shelly gave out her affection and attention, the more confidence she had in asking for attention and affection for herself. 

Because Shelly was very generous with her affection; Lux didn’t think that she’d ever seen Shelly ‘reject’ a request for affection from one of the guys. Even if she was on the phone, she would often give them a “hold on a minute” signal, and they’d get what they wanted when she was done; but until then, she would go and run her fingers through their hair, or she’d hold their hand or squeeze their shoulder or something until her call was done. If she could, of course - sometimes her calls didn’t allow her to do that; sometimes she needed to be near her paperwork, or she needed to be away from them. So, she would have to delay what they wanted, but Lux hadn’t seen her outright deny them affection.

While this observation easily boosted Lux’s confidence, she still found it much easier to go and gently hold onto Shelly’s clothing as a quiet way to say; “hey, I’m here, and, when you’re not busy, can I borrow you?” Even when Lux was very settled in her permanent role as MyChem’s drummer and as Shelly’s “littlest/youngest kitten” - she still preferred to ask for affection that way. It had quickly become… Almost like a secret signal between the girls. Something that just Lux did. In fact, sometimes Shelly would use the signal on Lux, but more often than not, it was the other way around. And they were both more than okay with that. 

Shelly loved feeling that gentle, slightly shy pull on her clothing, only to turn and see the girl from Arizona in her line of vision. Most of the time, Lux would let go of Shelly’s sweater and step back, but sometimes, she’d keep ahold of the fabric, sticking close to the shorter blonde. Shelly would always make giving the requesting band member their attention/affection her next priority. And she wasn’t always subtle about it. She’d just be all “wait no, I have to do something else first” and then go and snuggle or cuddle with whoever had wanted it. Lux kinda admired that.

Much like Frank, Lux would seek Shelly out when she wasn’t well, though normally she’d seek the blonde out more when she was dealing with the female aligned afflictions, especially when the guys were being especially annoying. That was easily done when hormones were all over the place and even one of them breathing could grate on a last nerve though. Shelly understood, she felt that way sometimes too. In addition to that, sometimes it was just nice to settle in the ‘office’ at the back of the bus with Lux, or for them to lock their hotel room door, and just… Be girls. Be girls without boys a few feet away, possibly listening in.

Shelly considered herself very fortunate that she didn’t often have a sick Frank and an unwell Lux wanting her attention at the same time. It had happened once and while she had managed to handle them both (she had two arms for cuddles after all) she much preferred focusing her attention on unwell charges one on one. But if she had to “duel wield” then she would - and more importantly, she could. So that was that. 

She liked the fact that people wanted to come to her when they felt vulnerable (because being sick or sad was a vulnerable state), that she was considered warm and soft and safe - and doubly so when she was wearing a sweater. Because she’d always considered sweaters (though, being British, she called them jumpers) a symbol of comfort, of home, of family. She remembered her grandmother’s shawls, her mother’s cardigans, her grandfather’s jumpers; paired with cups of tea (or hot chocolate when she was younger) and sometimes soup. She couldn’t remember the name of the type of pattern on her grandfather’s jumpers though. Was it a cable knit? Her grandmother would know - she was the one who made most of the knitwear Shelly vividly remembered from her youth. She had her own fond memories of being given a pink striped cardigan with buttons in the shape of white hearts. 

She couldn’t remember how old she’d been (maybe about eight?) but she did know that her grandmother had made it, specially for her, because she remembered going with her to pick the wool for it, and spending too long looking at the fun buttons in the haberdashery section. She remembered sitting in the family room for a little bit before bed, reading - either on her own or with her mother or grandfather, with the soft click click click of her grandma’s knitting needles in the background. She remembered her grandmother hand-finishing the cuffs, the hems, adjusting the edges, and sewing on the buttons. 

Her grandmother with her knitting, her mother with her baking, her grandfather with… Whatever his hobbies were at the time - they rotated with the seasons most of the time, and then, Shelly with the way she cared for people; being hands on, being touchy feely was very much in her bloodstream. She often found herself mirroring behaviours from her childhood - especially when it came to comforting those she cared about. Right down to the wearing of sweaters, even if the ones she wore weren’t homemade.

While Lux and Frank were just as touchy feely back with her as she was with them, Gerard on the other hand, was much less hands on when it came to the admiration of her sweaters. Obviously he was pretty much silent about it back in the beginning of her career with them. Back in the start, he tried to focus on how pretty she looked in one of her cardigans; the colours she chose to go with her pencil skirts or whatever she paired them with. He tried not to think about how soft they looked and how they’d feel. He tried to focus on how the colours suited her and not… How she looked. Like, the cut or the tightness of them or anything.

But, the longer he knew her, the faster she made his heart beat and his mind race as his feelings for her grew and developed - the harder it was to focus on the more… Innocent aspects of her sweater wearing. It didn’t take him too long to copy Frank’s not so subtle mindset - especially once Gerard realised, “oh. Actually, I like this girl. Like, really like this girl.” Because that was true - he really did. 

Though it wasn’t just his heart-eyes and soft feelings talking when he said that that girl even looked good in a tacky, ugly Christmas sweater. Although he had a suspicion that Lux and Frank had picked the least ugly one they could. She did have professional standards to keep after all. The sweater they’d picked for her had been a pretty shade of baby blue with sparkly snowflakes and it had made her look even softer than she normally did. Plus, it had been a V neck, which had sent his brain… Elsewhere. It had just been a shame (for him) that she’d kept her t-shirt underneath it when she tried it on, because he would’ve had a little, sneaky peek of her cleavage otherwise. (Afterwards, he had felt pretty bad about the fact that his brain had gone down that path, but ultimately that had been pretty tame.)

Gerard did like it when she wore their hoodies though - those could be put in the sweater category, if you squinted. At first, it started out as “their” as in, the band’s; as in, their merch. Then it was “their” as in, their personal clothing. That itself had started as Frank unzipping one of his hoodies and wrapping it around her shoulders because she was cold and the weather had turned slightly. Gerard had been thinking about offering her his one, but had hesitated for just a bit too long. He didn’t make that mistake again though; successfully offering her his hoodie the next time he thought she was cold. Insisting, when she verbally checked that it was okay, twice - because that’s just what she did. And then, feeling a little bit… Almost smug when, after helping her into it, she zipped it up. She hadn’t done that with Frank’s, even after she’d eventually put it on properly and not left it draped around her shoulders.

And that was before they’d gotten their acts together and confessed their feelings to one another. After that, and after they’d told the band, Shelly was more than happy to keep stealing Gerard’s hoodies, and he most certainly didn’t mind. Though, she was careful about wearing them where she could be seen - at least until they went public with their relationship. He didn’t mind that either - there was something… Something that just scratched an itch in his brain, seeing his girl on the other side of the room, or the bus, or whatever, wearing his clothes. Also, that feeling just increased when everyone knew about them and she then wore his hoodies in public. Again, that was his woman, wearing his clothes. And the whole world knew! It was delightful. Although, once they were actually together and out to not only the band but also to the fans… He swore that her sweaters got a bit tighter. Maybe he just spent more time looking at her, longer looks now that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if he got caught. So maybe he was just noticing now. But they certainly felt like… Well fitting garments when he had his hands under them.

Shelly enjoyed that - having his hands under her sweaters. Sometimes he would sneak his hands under her clothes just to touch her waist or hips. Just to hold her, just to touch her skin, and she kinda enjoyed that. Just the fact that most of the time, all he wanted was to be close to her, was just to touch her - if he could. Most of the time, he’d try and find a way of being close to her, even if he couldn’t touch her.

When they got to the “staying with each other” part of their relationship, outside of touring, Gerard had a habit of standing behind her while she was… Normally doing things in the kitchen, and wrapping his arms around her waist - under her sweaters in the colder seasons, and under her t-shirts in the warmer ones. He’d slide his arms around her, under her clothes, and hug her tightly against him, pressing a kiss to her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. And she loved every single second. Even if the innocent hug did end up with him sneaking a little bit of a feel sometimes. A lot of the time. She didn’t mind that either. And that never changed, no matter how long their relationship lasted.

The longer their relationship lasted, the more Gerard’s thoughts developed. Though the first time he thought about her in a soft, fluffy sweater and pregnant - it took him truly by surprise. It hadn’t been the first time his thoughts had strayed into the family way but… At this point they were starting to get a bit more frequent. Not that he’d tell her about them, at least not at the time he was having the thoughts, and he wouldn’t go on to tell her about them until after they were engaged at the very earliest. And, he got his wish - he got to see Shelly (his wife!) looking very cute wearing a soft, snuggly sweater with a visible baby bump. Three times.

Shelly enjoyed, during the pre-pregnancies era of their relationship, wandering around their shared abode - first an apartment, then a house after they got married, in oversized sweaters. Oversized sweaters that came down to her mid thigh and/or that slipped off of her shoulder, tiny underwear and, sometimes, thigh high socks. The first time she’d wandered past him dressed like that, he’d looked up at the wrong (or maybe, incredibly right) time and almost choked on his coffee.

“Miss Sketcher.”

Shelly pretended to be very interested in something on a shelf, keeping her back to him so he didn’t immediately see the smile that she was trying (and failing) to keep off of her face. “Yes, Mr. Way?”

Gerard hummed, staying seated and looking her over for a moment. Until she took a step back from the bookshelf and bent to look at something on a lower shelf. He exhaled slowly before pushing himself to his feet.

She knew what she was doing, of course she did. Shelly heard his hum, bent to look at the shelf and silently counted to herself - she didn’t hear his exhale but she did hear his brisk footsteps across the floor before she felt his hands on her waist as he spun her around and backed her against the shelves she’d been looking at. She barely had time to giggle before he was grabbing her face in both of his hands to kiss her, hard.

“Hi,” she said, quietly and breathlessly, smiling and nuzzling the tip of her nose against his when he pulled away.

“You…” Gerard huffed a bit. “Ma’am.”

“Hmm,” Shelly grabbed a handful of his shirt. “I much prefer it when you call me Miss…”

He swallowed slowly, smiling. “Hmm, well Miss - I think you might be asking for it…”

Shelly was fully aware of the way his hands were scrunching up her sweater; each time he closed his hands, he’d pull it up a little more. She had the feeling that he thought he was being sneaky, but she could feel the sweater inching up her legs.

“Asking for, what, exactly?” She gave him the most innocent look she could muster, looking up at him as she patted his chest, smoothing her hands over the material of his shirt.

Gerard watched her hands for a moment, humming slightly. He did enjoy it when she put her hands all over him, even if it was in a relatively innocent fashion like that. Though it never really stayed innocent when she started touching on him like this.

“Well Miss Sketcher,” he said, his voice low and almost gravelly. “You’re clearly asking for a good seeing to. Wanderin’ around half dressed, bendin’ over in front of me like that. Wearing thigh highs, which you know I like, combined with one of your comfy sweaters. That you know that I also like.”

“Mm hm,” Shelly giggled quietly. “I do know that you like that. Both of those things.”

“And,” he continued, hiking her sweater up another inch. “Not wearing a skirt, or pants. Showing off a flash of skin between the top of your thigh highs and the hem of your sweater.”

“There’s something else you’re gonna be ‘mad’ about,” Shelly said with a small smile.

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that?”

She hummed softly for a moment, ‘scuffing’ the toe of her sock against the floor and focusing her eyes on her hands, still smoothing over his chest. All in all, attempting to look as innocent as possible.

“Well,” she said softly. “I am wearing very pretty underwear…”

“Hm,” Gerard pretended to think about this. “I can believe that it’s pretty. Is it a set? Or are you just wearing panties?”

“A set,” she smiled a bit more.

He hummed, exhaling slightly, and when he spoke, his voice almost got caught in his throat.

“A…” Gerard swallowed to try and get his voice back. “A matching set?”

“Well, duh,” Shelly nodded. “Matching underwear is kinda one of my things.”

He huffed. “And you’re always wearing pretty underwear. I’ve only ever seen you in pretty underwear.”

“I like picking out cute sets,” Shelly admitted, glancing down as she felt the sweater slide down her legs a bit - it turned out that Gerard had let some of it go. “I really like underwear shopping.”

“I like the results,” he grinned at her.

Shelly laughed and leant her head against his chest for a moment, giggling. Gerard smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“Mm hm!” She looked back up at him. “I know you do!”

“I don’t mind funding your underwear shopping either,” he kept one hand resting on her hip, using the other to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking little circles.

“Is that because you normally get a little show afterwards?”

Gerard tilted his head as he thought about it, a smile appearing on his face. “Mm, maybe. Maybe also because you’re more than willing to indulge me and let me pick a set for you to get too.”

“Mmhm, of course! It’s fun to see what you wanna see me in.”

He kissed her gently for a moment, feeling her smile against his lips.

“But, you were saying that you had something else that I was gonna be quote unquote mad at?”

“Mm,” she nuzzled the tip of her nose against his. “So, not only am I wandering around half dressed, I’m wearing a long slouchy sweater, that you like, I’m wearing thigh highs, that you like, I’m bending over in front of you -”

“Which I also like,” Gerard admitted, dropping his hands back to play with the hem of her sweater.

Shelly nodded. “Mm, so on top of all of that -”

He huffed slightly as the cogs in his brain ticked too fast.

“Let me guess,” she said with a smile. “You’d rather be on top of me? Or you’d rather I was on top of you? Something along those lines?”

Gerard blushed. “Mmm.”

Shelly giggled more. “But! As I was saying! If you’ll stop interrupting me -”

“Sorry,” he whispered, grinning guiltily as he realised that he’d just done it again. “Carry on.”

“As well as the previously listed things,” Shelly eyed him, raising an eyebrow so he didn’t interrupt her again. “I am wearing a very, very pretty, matching underwear set. And I’m pretty sure that you haven’t seen it yet.”

He hummed. “Oh???”

“Because I only got it a few days ago,” she nodded, failing to hide a smile at the curious look on his face. “It’s very pretty.”

“All your underwear is.”

“It’s very girly. Very…” Shelly paused on purpose. “Not sure there’s an awful lot to it, really…”

Gerard exhaled slowly, trying not to think about that.

“And it’s kinda…” She paused again, grinning now as she watched Gerard’s face. “Very lacy.”

He practically growled at those words. “Lace is my favourite.”

“I know baby,” her eyes dropped to his hands - he was sliding his fingers, just up to the knuckles on his hands, under the hem of her sweater. “I know it’s your favourite. It’s one of mine too.”

“Double bonus points,” he murmured before lifting her sweater to peek under it.

Shelly watched this with raised eyebrows and an amused look. Until he dropped her sweater and looked at her with such a hungry look in his eyes… She found herself biting her lip. She wasn’t scared, of course not - she’d never been scared of him. If anything - that look excited her.

“Right,” his voice had dropped in volume and pitch and oh. “Right…”

“Right?” Shelly straightened up a little, although she was sure that she was holding her breath.

He was silent for a moment before he rolled his shoulders and just… Picked her up. Shelly squeaked and grabbed onto him, giggling as he tightened his grip on her - so he didn’t drop her.

“Right,” he repeated one more time before starting to haul her to their bedroom, her giggling the entire way. “You, little lady -”

“Who me?”

“Mm hm! You’re definitely askin’ for it.”

Needless to say, she didn’t protest in the slightest, and, as soon as he put her down in their bedroom, her sweater was tugged off of her, over her head, very quickly. 

For the longest time, that was Shelly’s favourite type of sweater tug - any kind of call for any kind of attention from her boyfriend (then her fiance, then her husband). She honestly, truly loved the way her kittens tugged on her clothes to get her attention, (and even Gerard could be included in this sometimes but for the most part, this really only applied to Frank and Lux.) But…There was just something different about the way her soulmate tugged on her clothes to ask for her affection. It didn’t matter if the attention that he wanted was something spicier or whether he was after something softer. (Although, the way he tugged on her clothes in order to undress her. That just… Hit differently. So, so very differently.)

It wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone if (or indeed when) they found out that was her favourite and, more to the point, Shelly didn’t think Frank and Lux would be offended. If anything, they’d be more… Surprised if Shelly said that it wasn’t her favourite. And, again, for the longest time, it was.

Until a new pair of hands learnt how to tug on her hair, her clothes and most definitely her heartstrings. A much smaller pair of hands than even Lux’s and her own. That is - until she became a mother for the first time. And the second. Then again for the third.

Even if they were gentle little tugs from a little munchkin who wasn’t feeling very well; a small pull on her clothes accompanied by a little voice saying softly “mama?” - because it was always their mama they wanted when they were sick after all. Shelly didn’t mind that. She liked those gestures too. Maybe it was because she felt useful, that she felt needed. Maybe it was just because, even when they were unwell, a tug on her sweater meant that someone wanted comforting, and they’d chosen her to go to for snuggles. (And when that munchkin was her oldest daughter, who was very much a daddy’s girl, Shelly felt especially special.)

Every single time one of her children approached her and pulled on her clothing - whether or not they had teeny tiny hands, or slightly bigger ones. Every request for attention from her mini her, her mini Gee, or later on, their perfect mini mixture, caused her to fall even more in love and just cemented the fact that these were her favourite tugs.

Everyone in her life seemed to universally agree that sweaters were not only symbolically comforting, but actually physically comforting too. Or, they enhanced any comfort that was given while someone was wearing one. 

And everyone in her life agreed that Shelly Sketcher suited a sweater.

[gerardpilled]

this is kind of off topic so i hope you don't mind the ramble i'm just passionate about this stuff. i for sure agree with you - it's even gone full circle if you look at the evolution of trap and internet rap and playboi carti's whole deal rn if youre familiar with it at all. him and his record label have taken heavy inspiration from early britsh punk rock and post punk acts + even nu metal in music, style, and even in their live shows; nowadays you won't see a single rap show without moshing. their fans are all doing liberty spikes and dressing in all black and styling themselves in tripp pants. again this is straying off topic, but i just find it kinda fascinating

Noo I think it’s on topic and I definitely agree with you. I’m not gonna say I’m the most knowledgeable on this stuff but I have seen people talk about the more goth roots of a lot of rappers today. I think that’s a mix of the fact that the two genres of rock and rap aren’t as different as you’d expect and the younger generation being brought up in a more culturally diverse climate when it comes to the arts.

There’s also a reason why Gerard said in mid 2000s interviews that the best reception within the industry largely came from rappers and hiphop artists lol. Jay-z referencing mcr in a song. A bunch of these rappers revealing they’re mcr fans online. These scenes have always been interconnected and I think a large part of that comes from song writing style.

[practically-an-x-man]

Get ASKED

(For this ask game)

For Desert song;

4, 23 and 25

For any fic you'd like;

11, 15 and 20

Thank you so much!!

Normally I put the link to the ask game here but since you linked it up top... here, I'll just give you the Crown of the First Ask 👑

For Desert Song:

4. If the fic required it, what did you research in order to write it?

I didn't actually do a whole lot of research for this one!! A lot of the more complicated subjects were areas I already had knowledge in, like anatomy and forensics, and the rest I just made up on the fly lol.

I think the main research I did was for how to write Quinn's disabilities. Many of her experiences with chronic pain and joint problems are pulled from my own life, but the circumstances that led to that (being very different from my own) took a bit of research. Plus, I haven't experienced hallucinations the way she does, so I looked into blogs and posts from people who have experienced them to try and convey them in a realistic, respectful way.

23. How did you come up with the title?

The title is from the My Chemical Romance song called Desert Song, which is given the tag of (Previously Unreleased) on some deluxe albums. It was a song that wasn't meant to be on the album - written when Gerard Way was suicidal, performed while he was drunk, it's incredibly powerful and incredibly rough.

I knew from the beginning that I wanted this fic to be themed around music, particularly punk, metal, and alt rock songs like the type Quinn would listen to. Desert Song in particular worked for the title for a few reasons:

The main setting is the desert, with the airplane graveyard that the ghosts use as their home base. The fic is the song of the desert.

A lot of the lyrics line up with Quinn's experiences - "did we all fall down?", "I can see you awake any time in my head", "from the Earth to the morgue", etc.

The circumstances of the song, like I said above, also echo Quinn's experiences (particularly at the start of the fic, where she's alone and in pain and still grieving her former life)

25. Share your favorite line

Really it's just this last line, but it's only impactful if I share the context too

“Not really.” they admitted, “I mean, I tried. But I guess there’s just a lot about me that tends to… scare people off.” They weren’t going to shy around it. It was the punk-ness. It was the trans-ness. It was the disabled-ness. And maybe it was the fact that it was not just one or two but all three, and that tipped the scales just a little too much. Were there people out there who wouldn’t care? Without a doubt. That was simply statistics. And she wanted to believe the world was good at heart. But she’d just happened to fall on the unlucky side, as she always seemed to. If there were people like that out there, she’d never been lucky enough to stumble across one of them. All she’d managed to run into were… the others. The not-so-greats. The Wait-So-You’ve-Got-A’s and the Can’t-You-Just-Walk’s and the You’d-Be-So-Pretty-If-You-Just’s. It was a lot like the physical therapy, really. After a while, she just gave up on it. Billy was silent for a moment. Finally he squeezed her hand, his fingers warm around her own. “Haven’t scared me off.”

First of all... a lot of this is pulled straight from the heart for me. I am trans, and punk, and disabled, and a lot of Quinn's fears here are the same things that worry me whenever I think about trying to find a partner somewhere out there. It's a really painful passage for me, but also really comforting when we get to Billy's response. A lot of this fic is a reflection of how I wish I could be cared for, and this is one of the more explicit allusions to that.

And even within the fic... I think it shows a lot about their relationship. Up until this point, they've been mostly trying to pretend things are still like they always were - and in some ways they are, but there are also a lot of things that will never be the same, and they can't just ignore that forever.

This line is an admission from Billy in two ways: first, he's admitting that he cares about her on this incredibly deep level, and second, he's acknowledging her disabilities and the way things have changed, while also promising to her that those things aren't going to push him away. It's a really powerful line, especially when he's the type of guy to take so few things seriously most of the time.

____

And honestly I'll just answer these other three for Desert Song too XD

11. What was the most challenging aspect of writing it?

Hm... pacing. I want to keep things moving enough that the action doesn't fade, but I also don't want things to move so fast that we lose Quinn's bonding with the team and her learning to get comfortable with herself. I love writing Quinn and her relationship with Billy so much, it's hard not to get lost in it lol

15. Talk about the characters’ struggles & how you decided on those

I've said it before, but a lot of Quinn's struggles are a reflection of my own. There are differences too, of course: she's transfem and I'm transmasc, her joint problems are much more severe and developed after a single traumatic event while mine are chronic and progressive, and while her learning to cope with her disabilities is very much a reflection of my experiences as a very active kid and teen (I even briefly trained for American Ninja Warrior!) now dealing with progressive health issues, I'm definitely not a pickpocket or parkourist. But she's trans, she's disabled, she's hardcore punk, and so am I, and I use her story almost as a journal to get some of my own feelings out.

As for how I "decided" on those... I was writing Nom De Guerre (my first 6 Underground fic with an entirely different OC) when I came up with the idea of a character who was in the parkour crew with Billy, fell with him, and didn't get lucky the way he did when it came to injuries. That was the first spark of Quinn as a character. The other details sort of fell into place from there.

20. Did you work with a beta? How did that affect the finished fic?

Nope! I have never actually had a beta writer, on any of my fics. No Beta We Die Like Six, or whatever

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Keep in mind that this is a Modern AU, Voltron never happened. All characters are around 21, except for Pidge (18) and Shiro (26).

Also, I SWEAR this is not Kallura.

———————————————————-

4 years. That’s how long it took for Keith to officially open his self-owned tattoo business.

The parlor was his pride and joy, and the only things more important to Keith were Shiro and Kosmo.

Keith had even managed to make a few friends along his path to tattoos, most notably a woman named Allura who been his emotional support throughout art school.

They had met via tinder. Keith, of course, had been completely humiliated to find that she was girl when they first met.

Explaining his sexuality to a stranger was quite awkward. It was worth it, though. She was his best friend now. Of course, she had always been friendly, likable, and social. Three things that Keith absolutely was not. But it made him happy to see her happy around other people.

(Lance)

Lance would follow Allura anywhere. He no longer hosted his initial embarrassing crush on her. Now, she was an older sister to him, someone he idolized.

This was a little too far, though.

Everyone stood outside of a tattoo parlor, dubbed “Marmora” by the flashing neon sign above the door.

Allura was holding a bouquet of blood red poppies.

Apparently her edgy tattoo artist friend had a soft spot for them.

The only reason Lance hadn’t turned tail and ran yet was that it was over a hundred degrees out, and Lance would rather not have a heat stroke.

Suddenly, Allura gasps.

“Oh no! I forgot food! I’ll be right back, guys. I need to find acceptable sustenance for Keith. Go on ahead, I’ll catch up!”

They reluctantly filed into the shop.

Lance was pleasantly surprised. Sure, there was MCR playing softly throughout the speakers, but the place looked homey. The dog, however, is what won Lance over.

It ran over, yapping excitedly. Also, was huge and probably very huggable.

Right when it looked like it was about to tackle Lance, a voice sounded from the next room.

“Down, Kosmo.”

Kosmo immediately settled down and padded over to the new figure.

Lance almost started staring at the tattoos covering the man’s arms, but he was distracted by the guy’s hair.

“Is that a mullet? What are you, sixty? And anyway, it looks like you don’t have any space left on this ink stained noodles you call arms, so why are you here?”

Ok, so Lance came off a little mean, but he had a habit of speaking his mind. Especially around wannabe Gerard Ways. The guy’s ears turned red. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something when the front door opened. In bustled Allura, with two bags of takeout hanging from her arms, and the flowers cradled close to her chest.

The looked up, his gaze softening.

“Oh, hey ‘Llura.”

Lance realized with horror who this was.

“Keith! Darling, it’s been much too long! Here, I have peace offerings for you! You know, in exchange for you not killing Lance because I see you giving him one of you death glares, and wow, I’m rambling, aren’t I.” Everyone stared in shock. This was Allura’s “absolutely adorable friend?”

—————————/////—————————

I’m 80% sure that the next post will be a part 2 to this. Or maybe I’ll loose interest and do something else instead. What do you guys think?

Part 2

[littleststarfighter]

I hope this doesn't come across as entitled or condescending - - I just really love your MCR art and I hope more people will find it. Have you considered tagging it #triple r? I don't really know why, but it's a newer term used for Frerard. Another thing you could consider is posting the art without text below it (and then add your text commentary in a reblog). For whatever reason, this fandom gravitates to art with minimal captioning. These are all small tweaks that could help because I really don't think your art style is incompatible with what the fandom likes the most!

Oh no! it's not condescending at all. It's very helpful thank you. I had no idea about that tag. I've always known it as Ferard and just Gerard/Frank. So that will come in very useful. I did look at others' art and they were very sparse with their text. Something I'm definitely not lol I always tend to come up with small stories to my art and try to fit it in. So I'll try the reblog part if I have those extras to tell.

I love drawing MCR and Frerard so much that I hope people find it too, as I would love more people to share it with. I don't know too many folks in MCR apart from my friends over on Instagram. I’d like to know more people here. So thanks for all the helpful tips ♥

[angstics]

it's always been interesting to me that the only thing seemingly "separating" the transgender truthing from the homosexual truthing, in terms of legitimate proof that someone who only knows gerard way through interviews and stage performance could provide, is the history of open gnc-ness. which doesn't really correlate to any kind of transgender identity but obviously i know why people choose to interpret it that way. (even then, the offstage dude kissing could and usually does fill an identical role in other peoples interpretation of gerard as being secretly gay so. shrug). but this time TRUST ME his performance art in solidarity with an oppressed queer group is ACTUALLY him being secretly trans. i try not to engage with any mass discourse events and find the she/her pronoun usage distasteful and just personally uncomfortable, so i dont directly encounter many people who even orbit this kind of discussion lol. im curious what you think about this comparison! and i apologize if anything was worded unclearly :)

this is a big can o worms! i like hearing your thoughts. there’s sooo many different readings on his identity and how the outfits factor into that.

it’s invasive but it’s not the same ethics as theorizing about a friend. understanding an artist is important to people. it’s part of being an artist which is normal but heavily contested. im always reminded of siken’s response to the student who wanted to learn more about his life to understand his poetry lol (he wasnt nice). why would it matter? authenticity, connection, need to label? there’s no universal or moral answer

anyhow back to gerard. the shift from homosexual to transgender truthing is funny! people didnt give up, they just concluded he’s unlabelled gay 😭 not from the on/off stage kissing (which were all performative) but from the tweetsss. “when people try to define your sexuality [morrissey picture]” and “why would i hide it if i was a Homosexual”. the affair conspiracies and gay music themes and general stereotypes probably aided that. whether the assumption is true or false makes no difference. the reasons behind why ppl even make the assumption are so intriguing to think about… but this is already too long.

the “trans truthing” is complicated bc it’s more personal to ppl. im not gonna create a boogeyman. ive seen all of this, some i align with some i dont. putting them in a list cuz it’s easier to read

ppl in my corner of the fandom are comfortable with calling him queer, nb, trans — from most to least common. all as umbrella terms. all to mean not-cis. justification is good ol FLAGGING. like getting an undercut to tell girls yr a dyke without needing to come out. i can expand on this thought process if wanted. ive seen this kinda labeling for YEARS

a lot of ppl i follow stop at gnc because that is the only visibly obvious option. and it’s the term The Advocate used for him in 2018 (tho we gotta note that he didnt self-id — the writer used the same principal of gnc being about presentation over id). the term is treated as if it were between cis and trans. or more accurately, not-cis not-trans.

ive noticed that old/ex fans or outsiders under my 30k cheerleader gifset see the dress as a coming out…? people of 1 and 2 chalk it under that history of gender nonconformity. it’s surprising but makes sense. i think that’s the function of said history

all the egg talk ive seen is on twitter among transfem ppl and tumblr posts in the wild. i searched “gerard way trans” and got so many tweets referencing kurt cobain. that is transfem business, not mine 😭

all this to say that i havent seen anyone in these circles insinuate he was Secretly trans. it’s the same as the gay assumption. it isnt about proving what reality is. just whatever individuals accept as their truth. lots of 1 ppl have said that if he suddenly came out as cis, their perception wouldnt change. i take that to mean bc the performance itself is the person and the performance they see is transgender.

i dont see how art and artist can be separated in performance. what other version of the artist are you getting? i dont know if anyone round here is talking about the couch sitting gerard way. like why would we 😭 even if one does, it’s under the perception of the performance we know. if we werent talking about the performance, we wouldnt even be talking about it. you wouldnt imagine your loved one watching tv. youd sit next to them. look at them. talk to them. YOU KNOW? like this whole debate on whether it’s invasive goes NOWHERE. we arent talking about someone who could be known. we are barely talking about the real person.

and he knows this because anyone with a Name becomes this. the real life person doesnt need defending. he needs respect. to me that means not harassing him, not digging into his private life, not speaking for him. the rest is what feels ok for me. if the environment is uncomfortable, all i can do is share why. which is why talking about it is important.

ill say, im fine with she/her-ing him. i know those arent his defined pronouns. i know i use them as a term of endearment and character-dedication. i know when to avoid them. i personally dont believe in rigid pronoun use. i don’t believe in there being a handbook of rules of what is or isnt rude (not to say there arent general rules). you learn person to person.

goes back to the Pursuit of Universal Morality. god i remember last year getting so mad at the trans labelling id leave tumblr to complain on twitter. but ive changed my tune to seeing the non-cis ambiguity. not because of Evidence but because i found comfort in that connection. i wasnt wrong then, am not wrong now.

it isnt really about him, it’s about what he says and does. which IMO he’s likely to accept as an artist.

so yeah. TLDR: posts that are like “how can you say he’s [cis/trans] if X?!” are really just stating their own perception. even if they uncritically believe what theyre saying is reality, it’s THEIR reality. there is no difference btwn “his performance art in solidarity with an oppressed queer group” and “him being secretly trans”.