#it’s not a side effect of the cocaine ??? FUCKED UP PATRICK

[tombstoneswerewaiting]

i actually need fall out boy to stop singing fall out boy songs when i’m not there

#I WANNA HEAR HUM HALLELUJAH LIVE #WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN #ALSO #it’s not a side effect of the cocaine ??? FUCKED UP PATRICK #unfair actually #fall out boy #fob #pete wentz #patrick stump #andy hurley #joe trohman #infinity on high #hum hallelujah

[earlgreytea68]

Hi! Anon again from yesterday following up on Petes comments re people wanting the 8balls to be cork tree!

Thank you for your wonderful well thought out response, i can't believe we had that discussion of Pete still feeling the dark and uncertainness of playing the deeper stuff and then Patrick comes out like "hey Pete its ok we can play these deep cuts, this is for us and the kids that matter and fuck everyone else" and plays side effect of the cocaine. Like the intro of "maybe 2 of you will know this, the deepest of cuts, a never played" he really went out there being like 'hold my beer, I'm gonna show you that this is ok now Pete".

Your comments and interpretation were right on the money! Patrick there to lift him up when he needed it, just like Pete does for him. 😭😭😭😭😭

YES. I WAS TOTALLY GOING TO COME BACK HERE TO SAY EXACTLY THAT.

Like, the night before Pete got in his own head about people only wanting to hear Cork Tree and Patrick came right back the next night with a deepest of deep cuts, he wasn't scared, he did it and he survived it and the crowd sang along in joy and delight, and they also added Homesick at Space Camp to the setlist, like, Patrick was like, "We are not scared of this AT ALL, these are our kids and they love us and I'm going to remind you of that." I find it very difficult to believe that those choices were just coincidental after Pete's comment the night before.

And then he sat down at the piano and reminded all of us, btw, Pete writes those words you're shouting along with him, those are all Pete.

#fall out boy #fob #peterick

[notevenyou]

really fucked up pete requesting a song and calling him love and then patrick last minute doing It’s Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Think It Must Be Love

WHAT THE FUCK

#“i'm coming out” #patrick that was a crazy declaration #p2 when I fucking get you

[hellimagines]

Fake Characters -- Patrick Hockstetter

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: "Patrick headcanons for him having a girlfriend who's really preppy and innocent until he finds out one night how demented she actually is and she's actually crazier than him and his heart Z O O M S" - @saea

Summary: Patrick gets assigned to a project with you, and slowly finds himself trying to pick you apart.

Warnings: explicit drug use (cocaine), light sexual themes, blood, violence, and lowkey murder

Pairing: Patrick Hockstetter x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,700+

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late, but honestly, are we surprised? Anyways, this isn't how I usually write things, it's a really long imagine rather than HC's, and it doesn't follow the request entirely (sorry lmao). Also, we don't do Consistent Tenses in This House and we're not gonna talk about the ending. Enjoy lmfao

Patrick Hockstetter didn't care much for you or your 'type'. He, as well as the rest of the Bowers Gang, had a tendency to steer clear of the preps and the populars: too much attention and too much hassle in the long run. He liked the girls (and the occasional boy) who were quiet, kept to themselves, and wouldn't be noticed if something were to... go wrong. So, when Patrick decided to randomly show up for his AP Lit class one day (a class he didn't belong in but was in anyway), he instantly regretted it. — Only a few seconds into class and the teacher had already set his demeaning eyes upon Patrick, an eyebrow arched in distaste. "So glad you decided to show, Mr. Hockstetter," he says, walking to stand in front of Patrick's desk. "Today's the beginning of our new read, and we'll be doing the project in pairs."

Patrick doesn't care at first, he figures he'll be stuck with one of the nerds in the front, trembling in their seats with sweat dripping from their forehead. He typically manages to scare them into doing the work for him if the project that's being assigned doesn't interest him.

"Mr. Hockstetter, you'll be working alongside Ms. (Y/L/N) for this project."

Patrick wants to slit the teacher's throat then and there. He knows he can't get away with threatening you to do all the work; you have too many friends and too many allies willing to make his life difficult if he fucks you over. It's only when you saunter up to him, slamming a copy of The Odyssey onto his desk (Patrick swears he chokes on the dust), does he really know he's fucked.

Despite your harsh actions, you're staring down at him with a gentle, yet anxious, gaze. "My parents are gonna be at a banquet tonight. So, we'll start on the project at my house, five o'clock. Don't be late, Hockstetter- I'm not doing this on my own," you sigh, nervously tugging at the bottom of your sweater (nervous of him or the thought of doing the project on your own, Patrick isn't sure).

"Yeah, whatever." Is all he offers you before he's snatching the book off his desk and leaving the classroom, the teacher shouting loudly behind him as he goes. — When Henry finds out Patrick is going to be spending the majority of the month in class and alongside you, he isn't happy about it. Before Patrick can even begin to justify his reasoning or explain that he'd still be around, the ash-blond git is tackling him to the ground. Patrick's unlit cigarette flies out of his hand as he's slammed to the asphalt, but he doesn't have time to grieve its loss. Henry instantly begins to pummel away at his back, trying to smash Patrick's face into the street beneath him, effectively tearing up the taller boy's face, arms, and upper body. Patrick lays there, complacent, for a few seconds, before violently jerking his body and throwing Henry off of him. Vic and Belch stand beside Amy, watching with worried eyes as the dominant teens fight out their frustrations. It takes a while, but soon enough their fists are bruised and their mouths are bloody, both of them kneeling over as they gasp for breath.

"I'll still be around you winy piece of shit. I've just gotta handle this crap."

"Fuck you." — Patrick shows up at your house at exactly 5 o'clock, blood staining his shirt, and a cigarette hanging from his busted lip. His face is destroyed, to say the least: covered in scratches, bruises, and dry blood. The rest of him doesn't look any better.

You squint at him, "Please don't get blood on my carpet." Before leading him to your room, refusing to ask any questions or offer any medical attention. He's not your problem.

Patrick is only slightly suspicious that you don't question his injuries or tell him to put out the cigarette, but he shrugs it off and obediently follows you to your room. Your house is large and sparkling clean- the kind of clean that makes it seem unlived in, and Patrick feels wrong calling it a 'home'. But once he gets to your room, he can only shake his head with a quiet chuckle at the sudden contrast- your room is clearly not like the rest of the house. Patrick shuts the door behind him and lets his backpack thud to the ground, before turning to find you unexpectedly holding out a dish to him. It's stained grey due to all the ash inside and is littered with used cigarette buds. Patrick raises an eyebrow but accepts it without question, slumping himself into your desk chair while you sit on your bed.

You instantly begin digging around in your backpack for the materials needed for the project, and Patrick takes the chance to look around and further judge your room. Crystal-white Christmas lights are hanging up, bordering your ceiling and illuminating the room in bright, unnatural light. You have pictures of your friends, family vacations, cheer meets, and other mindless things scattered along your walls. Posters of people Patrick doesn't recognize are pinned in random areas as if you didn't care where they were placed. Your bed is made and void of any debris (probably the only thing that resembles the rest of the house) but your floor is scattered with clothes, school books, pencils, and a water bottle here and there. Patrick isn't surprised to find your room has character, but he doesn't entirely believe it's your character being shown.

"How long are you planning on staying?" you ask, causing Patrick's eyes to zip back to you and away from his surroundings. You're staring at him with attentive (e/c) eyes, waiting for an answer as you tap your fingers against the books in your lap.

"Dunno. 'Til you kick me out 'suppose," he shrugs, leaning back into the chair with a bored expression. He'd forgotten all about his cigarette during his wonder-filled daze, so he takes a long drag after speaking- not missing the way your eyes linger on the filter caught between his lips.

Your voice is soft, "Won't your parents want you home?"

Patrick's smirking now, "Nah. Didn't come home for a few weeks once and they didn't blink an eye when I finally walked in the door lookin' like the personification of Hell."

"Where'd you go?"

"Sewers."

You seem to take the hint and drop the conversation, rolling your eyes at his bluntness while tossing your backpack to the side. "My parents won't be home until tomorrow. You can stay if you want."

"You askin' me to sleep with you, babe?" Patrick takes immense satisfaction in the way your cheeks flush and your eyebrows furrow, your mouth gaping for a retort.

The books in your lap nearly slide to the floor due to your sputtering. "No! I'm trying to be friendly!" you shout, incredulously.

Patrick shakes his head and flicks his cigarette against the ashtray. "Don't need a friend. I need to get this fucking project done so Henry gets off my damn ass." He takes another long drag after that, eyeing you over the orange glow of his cigarette as his fingers subconsciously run along a cut on his jaw.

Your eyes scan over his injuries once more, as something seems to click inside your head. "Just because Bowers doesn't care 'bout school doesn't mean you have to follow."

Patricks scoffs on his exhale, narrowing his eyes when you don't move away from the smoke. "Don't need a therapist either, babe." He's met with an eye roll, but you leave the conversation alone. Patricks likes the way you don't prod at things that he clearly doesn't want being picked at. You begin to explain the details of the project that Patrick had missed after he had left class, your voice free of scorn or annoyance. He doesn't know what your angle is yet, but he feels like you should be yelling at him by now. Instead, your voice is almost... understanding.

"Mr. Higgins said it's due March 14th. So... about six weeks. Plenty of time," you finish, handing him the paper with all the rules, materials, and extra crap for the project. Reading the book, analyzing it, putting together a poster (and stealing the materials), working out a presentation, plus all the in-class work wasn't gonna be as quick as he hoped. He had to work at the same pace as the class, which was something that made his jaw tense and his fingers squeeze the cigarette to the point it almost broke. Henry was gonna kick his ass. Again.

"I don't wanna waste six weeks on this crap. I can get it done in four- on my own," he growls, taking a quick puff of the cigarette before angrily putting it out (he didn't need it accidentally dropping on your carpet from his anger).

"That's not how projects work, Hockstetter," you sigh, voice annoyingly patient. "I can get it done that quick, too. But then we'd be bored the remaining three weeks. A handful of coked-out all-nighters isn't worth that. Besides, we have the work to do in class, and if we read ahead or any of that, it'll mess shit up."

Patrick practically perks up like a dog. "You use?"

Your breath hitches and your eyes widen. "What? No, what makes you say that?" You speak too quickly and once again, your hands are fumbling with your sweater. A nervous habit, Patrick notices.

"Firstly, babe, you're a terrible liar. I never said what you use. Secondly, people wouldn't say a 'coked-out all-nighter'. A simple 'all-nighter', or some caffeine related shit would've done the trick," he smirks, leaning forward to stare you down. He had known there was something about you the second you had opened the front door, and now he had you trapped, ready to find out everything.   "It's just a saying, I didn't mean anything by it," you stumble, (e/c) eyes searching his murky ones in a panic.

Patrick shakes his head in false pitty. "Relax. I'm not gonna tell anyone," he scoffs, leaning back in your chair and kicking his boot-clad feet up onto your desk.

Your body slouches in relief and Patrick's smirk widens, watching as you busy yourself with handing him sheets of paper and a pen, trying to seem nonchalant. You weren't who you claimed to be, and Patrick was gonna figure out your real character. The universe was challenging him, and boy did he love a good challenge- especially a cute one. — As the week wore on, Patrick found himself spending more and more time at your house and beside you in class. You two were sometimes seen outside of class, but not often, silently agreeing to keep your two worlds separate. Patrick didn't want Henry baring down on you and being an ass, and you didn't want your clique scrutinizing and sticking their noses up at Patrick. Henry and the boys were getting bitchy about his absence, sure, but he had a job to do and he wasn't gonna let Bowers' profound jealousy fuck it up.

It was roughly a week and a half into the project when Patrick became tired of trying to manipulate and coax secrets out of you. You seemed immune to his words and his tricks, and after your last slip up you had become tight-lipped, refusing to see that satisfied smirk on Patrick's face again. So, becoming fed up with your soft words and nervous fiddling, he nabbed a hundred from his mom's wallet and had Belch drive him out to Augusta. He was going to get you to admit your imperfections no matter what it cost him (or his mom).

Your filthy rich parents are always gone because of work and socialite activities, leaving you home alone constantly, and to your own devices. Meaning, Patrick isn't suspicious anymore when you allow him to smoke inside your house or when you don't question his bloodied body being dragged through your doors. Today's no different.

After Patrick knocks on your front door, you lead him through your house, speaking nonsense to him about your day, despite Patrick's obvious disinterest (he's got other things on his mind). Once you've brought him to your room and he's shut the door, he can't hold back the wicked smirk from his face any longer. Patrick's quick to pull a cigarette from his pack and extend his arm, catching your attention, succeeding in shutting you up. He isn't stupid, he knows you smoke but have refrained from doing so around him (and others no doubt). But the way your eyes widen and a slight gasp leaves your mouth is priceless. It takes you a good 30 seconds of flicking your eyes back and forth, from him to the cig, before you're snatching it out of his hand with a shaky breath. You have it in your mouth without realizing what you've admitted to, but Patrick can tell you don't care as you furiously pat yourself down in search of a lighter.

"Here." Patrick snaps open a silver zippo, the flame flickering against the cigarette, as you instantly inhale, making sure it catches. Satisfied with himself, he kicks off his shoes and tosses his backpack on the bed before throwing himself beside it, getting comfortable. You stand in front of him, anxiously smoking, while looking anywhere but him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask after a few minutes, the cigarette beginning to dwindle down between your fingers.

"Why'd you try and hide it?" Patrick shoots back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"If anybody found out I smoked, I'd be kicked off the team. Everyone else does it, yeah, and the fucking captain does it, but I got on the team because the other chick... got in an accident. I can't risk anything." Your voice is shaking again, and now Patrick has another fucking secret to discover.

"An accident?" he asks, fingers twitching at your words while his eyes roam over your tense body. "Yes." Your answer is short and your eyes are narrowed, lip curled in an unconscious snarl. Patrick grins wickedly but says nothing more as you hastily put out the cigarette and collapse beside him on the bed.

He can't help himself, "What other secrets you hidin' from me, babe?" he hums, tugging on a strand of your hair, making you whimper in shock.

"Nothing, Hockstetter. Let's just get this project done," you growl, shoving his hand away from your silky hair.

'Nothing my ass', Patrick thinks, although proud of your sudden hostility.

The two of you work without incident for the next few hours, Patrick waiting patiently for his time to strike. He's sure he resembles a viper or a panther or a wolf or some other threatening animal ready to pounce, but you don't look the least bit threatened. You simply refocus his attention every few minutes, scold him when he's being an ass, and make sure things are getting done. He's getting tired and beginning to think his moment is never going to come; but when you yawn around 9:30, Patrick practically shouts in victory.

"Tired, babe?" he says, voice surprisingly smooth for the way his eyes light up and his fingers twitch.

"Not your babe," you hum, refusing to answer his question.

"You always could be." You answer with another yawn, turning your head so he can't see you proving his point. "Let's pull an all-nighter, hm? Just this once," Patrick knows it won't be just this once, "and then you can get your well-deserved break from me. We can get a few days, possibly a week, worth of shit done tonight, and you'll be free to be with your friends again."

The way you look at him, your lip tucked between your teeth and your eyes so soft, Patrick knows he has you before you do.

"What makes you think I wanna get rid of you, Hockstetter?" Or maybe you have him.

Patrick doesn't let his shock show though, and only shakes his head with a chuckle. "C'mon, babe. I'm constantly trailing blood in here, messin' up your sheets and your homework, and keepin' ya from your friends and your pretty little cheer uniform. I know that short skirt misses you almost as much as I miss it," he purrs, running the back of his knuckle over your cheekbone.

Patrick doesn't care about any of that stuff (save the skirt), and he knows you don't either. He sees the way you roll your eyes when you get phone call after phone call from your friends, begging you to hang out. The way you clench your fists when you hang up the phone, before turning and smiling at him brightly. He sees the way your eyes linger on his fresh cuts and bruises, and how you purposefully run your fingers over his damaged knuckles when handing him something. Your eyes and touches filled with longing. He knows you haven't washed your sheets in the week and a half he's been over, messing them up to piss you off. He knows they smell (reak) of him: cigarette smoke, blood, stolen cologne, and chaos. He knows how your cheer uniform is tossed carelessly in your room, not minding if it gets dirty or ruined, whereas you have a hidden leather jacket hanging up in your closet, void of any injury and no doubt in pristine condition.

You haven't told Patrick any of these things, but he knows.

You don't flinch away from his knuckle as it's run along your cheekbone, instead, you sigh softly, causing Patrick to smirk in victory. There's a war going on inside your head, he can tell, but as long as he wins, he doesn't care what you're thinking.

Finally, you nod, "Yeah, alright. I'll go grab some snacks and coffee-"

"Won't need that, babe."

It takes you a minute to process his interruption and it's meaning, but he grins once it hits you. "Patrick, you didn't!" you cry, and he doesn't admit how the sound of his name being spat out of your mouth turns him on (even if he has to shift on the bed to hide his hard-on).

"Sure did."

He reaches into his backpack (the one he brings to school and now he's laughing at the horror on your face) and pulls out a tiny bag of cocaine stored inside a CD case. He fishes out a dollar bill and a credit card (that is definitely not his) from his pocket before plopping the items in front of you. You don't say anything for a few minutes, and Patrick doesn't push. But, he does begin emptying out the coke onto the case and using the card to cut it up. You watch him quietly, the horror fading slowly as the powder becomes thinner and a few lines are formed.

"Bills have germs," you finally speak, and Patrick almost scoffs, but stops himself in the name of money.

"That so, babe? You got a straw then?" he asks, knowing damn well you more-than-likely do. You wouldn't have said something if you didn't. He watches you get up and walk to your underwear drawer, where you dig around for a second before pulling out a ziplock bag. Inside he can see tiny bags of blow, straws, cards, and other crap he can't make out.

"You have a fucking cocaine kit?" His voice is full of judgment, but he's shifting his hips against the bed, his cock aching, knowing you're too busy pulling out two straws to notice. You don't answer him, but you do hold up a middle finger before you return to the bed. Patrick's already cut up four thick lines and is grinning wildly at you, impatiently flicking the card between his fingers.

He nods to the straws, "Better?" He's smirking now and all you do is roll your eyes while tying your hair up into a ponytail.

Before Patrick can blink or offer any more witty remarks, you're bending over the case and snorting all four fucking lines in one fucking go and Patrick nearly chokes on his own goddamn tongue and practically cums on the spot. Two of those rails were meant for him, and he's pretty sure he poured out a little less than a half onto that case, but fuck, he's not gonna scold you. You seem to know what the fuck you're doing, and he's not the babysitter type anyways. When you pull back, fingers covering your nostrils and inhaling deeply, Patrick can't keep the smile off his face and the hearts out of his eyes (but if anyone asks they weren't hearts bc that's just not how he rolls).

"You're fucking staring, Patrick," you grumble, voice weak and airy from holding your breath.

"Yeah, because that was fucking hot and not what I expected. Granted, you took my lines, but whatever," he mumbles, still staring up at you in awe.

You look down at him when he says that, eyes wide in shock. "Oh fuck, my bad."

"So many secrets," Patrick's snickers, before busying himself with pouring out and cutting up his own lines (exact same as yours because he'll be damned if he lets you one-up him in his own fucking game). You hand him his own straw, but Patrick simply grins before snatching the one you had just used out of your hand. You shout in protest, but it's too late, he's already bent over and snorting the case clean. Patrick lifts his head with a dopey grin, sniffing noisily as you glare at him. Both of you split the residue on the case, silently rubbing it against your gums before Patrick shifts himself to lean against your pillows. You follow suit, instinctively laying beside him with a satisfied hum. Patrick had managed to not only unlock two of your secrets, but he also got you to perform them, and the thought caused his fingers to jump at his side, his grin spreading. Plus, he had also found another secret in need of unlocking, just waiting to be heard and discovered.

"What're you so happy about?" you sigh, your words rushed and airy as you turn on your side to stare at him. Patrick copies your position, allowing his fingers to run over the side of your face once more.

"Finally cracking you open, (Y/N)."

"Sure, Patrick," you laugh, and Patrick's eyes flutter shut at the sound.

The next few hours are spent contently working on the project, with the frequent bump and line to push you guys forward. As Friday night begins to turn into Saturday morning, Patrick finds himself melting into your bed and no longer wanting to pick up The Odyssey or anything else for that matter. He can feel you curled up against his back, the book tucked into your arms as your eyes scan the words lazily; he's sure none of the information is registering with you and you'll have to re-read most of it in the morning, but you don't seem to care. The coke had been put away roughly two hours ago, nearly three, and Patrick was trying his best to disregard the comedown washing over him in waves. 

"We should try and sleep," you finally declare, noticing the soft, warm light beginning to peak into your room from your curtains. It wasn't going to be easy to fall asleep, but it was a decent option with your current states.

Patrick only grunts, not wanting to have to walk home with his heart racing the way it is and his throat aching. His limbs feel like Jell-O and his eyes burn, but once you remove yourself from his side, he forces himself to sit up. As he begins to sluggishly slip on his shoes, your hand on his shoulder stops him, and he looks up to see you pouting.

"The fuck you poutin' for, babe?" he sighs, turning back to his shoes.

"Stay, Patrick. You've been up all night and you're dealing with a come-down. Besides, I don't wanna be alone."

Patrick is positive you don't care about being alone, but your pouty lips and tug on his shirt magically coax him back into your bed before he can realize it. He slithers under the covers with you beside him, tensing up when you bury yourself into his side. He wants to push you off, tell you to go fuck yourself and hug your pillow, but he doesn't. Instead, he drapes an arm over your body, loose and hanging, and lets his eyes slip shut, willing his heart to calm down and his body to sleep. — Patrick and you had managed to achieve a few days worth of work during that night, and Patrick kept up his end of the deal- he didn't bother you at school and never offered a glance your way. But, he could tell his absence was bothering you, and it made his smirk widen each time he caught you looking at him. Patrick didn't show up for class during those few days, purposefully leaving you hanging with the class work, and it only took two days for you to seek him out.

"Patrick!" you shout as he's about to clamber into the Trans Am and speed off to god knows where. Patrick and the boys turn, Henry beginning to stalk forward at the interruption. However, Patrick grabs ahold of his shoulder and yanks him back, waiting for you to continue. "We have more work to do for the project."

'No we don't,' he laughs to himself. Patrick smirks and flicks a dismissive hand at the boys, ignoring their shouts and insults as he walks to your side and throws an arm over your shoulder. "Miss me already?"

"Shut up." -- It's been three weeks and Patrick isn't any closer to figuring out the dubbed Cheer Secret. He gets you to smoke around him constantly, and the two of you go through a few grams when you can afford it, but you don't utter a peep about the chick who had the 'accident'. Sometimes you'll rant about your friends and your family to him, things Patrick doesn't necessarily care about, but he listens to you anyway in hopes of a slip-up. But, no matter how high or drunk you get, that secret stays hidden within you and Patrick is over it. You rile him up in ways nobody else has before, and he wants nothing more than to make you his, but he can't without figuring you out. So, he works out yet another plan, one he isn't sure is even going to work.

Patrick makes sure he gets into another major fight with Henry before going to your house that day. It's a pretty bad fight, one that leaves his lip split, a cut on his eyebrow, gashes on his forehead, cheekbone, and his jaw, and many more hidden injuries beneath his bloody clothes. He knocks on your door, leaning heavily against the doorframe and waits for you to answer. When you do, you're actually shocked at his state- he hasn't looked this bad in weeks, and you can't contain the gasp that falls from your lips.

"Won't get blood on the carpet," Patrick murmurs while stumbling into the house, mindlessly walking into the direction of your room. The fight was more severe than he had predicted, and fuck, was he hoping more than ever his plan would work. Even as blood seeps from his body and his head swims with lost thoughts, Patrick still needed to know your secret.

You follow him into your room and help lower him to your bed. "What happened this time?" you ask, gingerly lifting his shirt up to inspect further damage. Patrick doesn't stop you.

"Henry was bitchin'. Gave 'im a piece o' my mind, and he gave me his. Pretty sure I left 'im bleeding out by the fuckin' river," Patrick slurs, wincing when you press against a cut on his side. Blood drips out at the contact, and you're instantly swiping it away, frowning.

You look up at him, "You just... left him there?"

Patrick nods silently, laying back on the bed with a huff. "Not my problem if he fuckin' dies. He shouldn't have opened his damn mouth." Your grip on his arm tightens, and Patrick sighs quietly. At least you weren't running away. "You gonna rat me out, babe?" he sneers, but even he can tell his voice is void of any true malice.

You scoff, "No, Patrick. I'd be a hypocrite. I have no right to do that- besides, I'd miss you too much."

Patrick laughs before he's coughing and groaning in pain. "Hypocrite, huh? Whatcha hidin' now? Don't wanna die on a cliffhanger," he coughs, lifting himself onto his elbow to try and subdue the pain and look at you better.

"Don't worry about that right now." Is all you say and Patrick is groaning again because 'fuck, I was so fucking close'.

You begin to tug at his shirt, and Patrick complies with letting you take it off. It sticks uncomfortably to his skin, but you eventually manage to peel it away with only a few grunts and hisses of pain. Patrick allows you to spend the next hour tending to his wounds, trying to rethink his plan over and over again. You're gentle and careful with him when all Patrick wants is to uncover your dark and rough side- the side he knows is screaming to be let out. By the time you've finished, Patrick's torso is scattered with bandages, and his face has been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected.

"Don't let this happen again," you say to him while putting away all the supplies you had needed.

Patrick watches you quietly for a minute. "It will. That's how me and Bowers work, if he's still alive. If you've ever been in a fight, or even dealt with the life we do, you'd understand." You still at that, and Patrick smirks.

'There it is.'

"Don't... don't say I haven't lived that life," you whisper slowly, standing up and turning to stare him down.

"How can I not? I don't know a thing about you, babe," Patrick says, resting a hand against his side as he looks up at you.

"I'm on the cheer team, straight-A student, AP classes-"

"Shut the fuck up," Patrick interrupts, scoffing loudly. "I'm not talking about the fake shit, (Y/N). I'm talking about you. The real fucking you. The leather jacket in the closet, the longing for my bruised knuckles, refusing to rid your sheets of my smell, accepting my smokes and my blow- that's the real you. And she's amazing. She's the person I wanna sit in here with, not whoever is looking at me now. So drop the god damn act already." He wasn't supposed to rant and go on a tangent, but once he started he just couldn't stop.

You stare down at him, your (e/c) eyes slowly losing their softness. Something almost akin to relief replaces it, and you collapse next to him with a quiet laugh. "I don't know if I want to cry, scream, or hit you."

Patrick grins, "Why not all of it?"

"Nobody was supposed to find out... ever. All of it was supposed to stay a secret until I got out of this shitty town. I... god, I don't know how you've figured me out in three weeks but I applaud you," you hum, resting your head in your palms. Patrick lets the comfortable silence that follows wash over you for a short while, before growing impatient. "Tell me about the girl." It's not a question or a plea, but a demand. You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed before you sigh in defeat.

"I fucked up."

"We all do. Talk to me." Patrick doesn't like the gentleness of his tone, but he can't do anything about that now.

You take a minute before sitting up straight. "She was the weakest link. I needed on the fucking team for college, and she was my way in. It was the few days of tryouts, and it had come down to me and her, but I could tell they were favoring her. She just... fit right. And I couldn't have that. So... I did what I had to. Lured her to the quarry with the promise of a drug deal, before pushing her over. She died and everyone thought it was suicide. I was let on the team and the rest is history." Your voice didn't waver throughout the story, and at the end, you look up at Patrick with a simple shrug, showing no remorse.

Patrick looks into your eyes for a minute, taking in their apathy, before he strikes. He places his hand against your cheek and pushes you back against the bed, kissing you roughly. You cry out in shock, hands immediately shoving at his chest to push him away.

"I killed someone!" you shout in disbelief, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Patrick smirks, "I know."

Patrick dives back down and kisses you once more, maneuvering his injured body above yours. You whimper quietly in defeat and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you. Patrick growls in satisfaction- you're everything he expected you to be, and he couldn't be prouder at having figured you out. Now that you were wrapped around him, literally and figuratively, Patrick wasn't letting you go any time soon.

All Writing Taglist: @teageowen @mads--world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss

Bowers Gang Taglist: @kaitlinlexiexx @darth-stetter @admiralsixx @ssstutteringbbbill @scckzy

#patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter imagine #patrick hockstetter imagines #patrick hockstetter x reader #bowers gang #bowers gang imagine #bowers gang imagines #bowers gang x reader #drug tw

[hellofanimagination]

Masterlist as of 3/11/19

~Notes On My Writing Encourages Me To Write~

Headcannons

Drabbles

Taglist

Bold=Contains Smut

Italics=Just Angst

(^)=Male Reader

($)=Threesome

(!)=Multiple Current Relationships (With the reader)

(+)=Basement AU

(*)=Punk AU

(@)=Danger Days AU

(%)=High School/College AU (or implies that they are younger)

(-)=Vampire AU

(&)=Parent/Pregnancy AU or involves kids (such as  Bandit)

(#)=Self Harm TW

Fall Out Boy:

Patrick:

Eternal Summer (%)

I Am Beautiful With You

Bad Trip, I Couldn’t Get Off

I Got Troubled Thoughts

I Would Sing You To Sleep

Lullabye (&)

Moan For Me

Blue Bubbles

^Part 2

Kisses on The Necks Of “Best Friends” (%)

Cause It’s Just Trust

Allie, I Was So Good Back Then

Take This To Your Grave

Cinderella She Seems So Easy

Pete:

It’s Not A Side Effect Of The Cocaine (^)

Call Me Maybe

Andy:

Moving Pictures (&)

My Chemical Romance:

Gerard:

Urie’s House, 11 Tonight (%)

Don’t Go

I Need You

Please

Doctor Way

First Time (+)

Interview

^Part 2

Nicotine Kisses (*)

Hold Me

Study Date (*) (%)

Love Will Kill You (*) (%)

Too Fast (+)

Don’t Save Me (@)

Beautiful

Kiss Me You Animal

I Hate The Ending Myself (@)

Thief (@)

The Boys And Girls In The Clique (+) (%)

^ Parts 2 and 3

Not So Secret (@)

My Friends Blur (+) (%)

^Part 2

Dance, Dance (@)

You Belong To Me I Believe

Marry Me

Playground Eyes (#)

Blow Me..A Kiss (+)

They’ll Say It’s Not Worth It (+) (%)

Reinvent Love

Right Down To The Blood (*)

In A World Of Bad Dreams (-)

^Part 2

My Perfect Stranger (&)

Mama

In A Bullet’s Embrace (#)

Sounds Of Love-Notes

We Are The Dream (&)

Do It Now And Do It Loud

Young And Loaded (@)

A Love That’s So Demanding

^Part 2

What Are We Waiting For?

My Best Friend’s Brother

I Don’t Do ‘Parents’ (%) (*)

Remember When You And I Would Make Things Up? (&)

Protect Me From The Troubles Of My Own Skin (^) (#)

Hot For Teacher (%)

I Don’t Believe In Luck ($)

The World’s a Broken Bone (%) (+)

The World Is Ugly (#)

Everybody Wants To Know (%) (*)

It Was Always You (+)

Birthday Touches

Burnt Waffles Made With Love (&)

Don’t Bless Me Father For I Have Sinned

Blink Back To Let Me Know (%) (Fem!Gee)

Fight Me (Knight AU)

^Part 2

Tattoos Of Heroes Without Capes (@)

This Is How We Met, Cause We’re Fucking Nerds

We Will Stumble Through Heaven

I Can Make Your Heart Slow

Being Blue Is Better Than Being Over It

^Part 2

We Can Be Heroes (+)

I’ve Always Held My Doubts So Close To My Heart

Well There’s No Way I’m Kissing That Guy (-)

I Never Said I’d Lie And Wait Forever

^ Part 2

This Is A Love Song In My Own Way

I’ve Got An Uncommon Love ($) (@) (!)

Can You Feel My Heart? (+)

In The Morning It Will All Be Better (+)

This Is The Best Day Ever

Bachelors For Bad Luck Girls (%)

I Want You In My Life

Only You (Asexual!Reader)

Dirty Little Secret (+)

I Promise You This

Lips Pressed Close To Mine

Sleeping Beauty

Without A Sound

If You Look In The Mirror And Don’t Like What You See (+)

Tell Me I’m A Bad Man ($)

Keep Running (@)

Cold On This Inside (^)

Such A Happy Mess

Throwing Stones At A Glass Moon (@) (&)

Follow Me Down (%)

We Spark and We Fade (Vampire Hunters AU)

Thin Line Between A Good And A Bad Idea

The Pros And Cons Of Breathing (#)

I Found The Cure To Growing Older (%)

Houston We’re Going Down (@)

Until You’ve Had Yourself A Hurricane

Spooky Scary And Drunk AF

Unashamed (^)

Comback Of The Year

Hesitant Alien

^Part 2

This Is How I Disappear

Don’t Wanna Fall In Love (*)

Shut Me Up

Fantastic Bastards 

Hand Of God 

Victims Of Love

Lightning In A Bottle

Frank:

Sweet Fun (@)

Hold A Lover Close (*) (%)

A Kiss And I Will Surrender

Say I Like You, And We Can Get Out

Promises That We’ll Make

I Don’t Believe In Luck ($)

Let’s Get These Teen Hearts Beating. Faster, Faster

Back To The Street Where We Began

I’ve Got An Uncommon Love ($) (@) (!)

Sometimes We Take Chances

Bruises On Your Thighs

Imaginary Wedding Gown (&)

Tell Me I’m A Bad Man ($)

Can’t Help Falling In Love

^Part 2

Up Against The Picket Fence

Mikey:

Stressed Out

Kiss And Tell

All My Feelings Exposed (^)

Let Me See Your Moves

You Can Have My Heart

Summer Time (^)

Adore

My Heart Is Yours (%)

Something My Soul Needs (^)

Ray:

They Say Quitters Never Win

No Pairing:

Takes One To Know One

Untitled (Submission)

Not Another Boy Band (Genderfluid!Gee)

Hesitantly Me (Reader is Gee’s sister)

Lost Boys (mcr are fucked up and homeless, reader helps them) (#)

Panic! At The Disco:

Ryan:

I’d Do It All Again. I Think You’re My Best Friend

Milkshake Smiles (%)

^Part 2

I Just See The Sky

Girl, I’m Just Impressed With Your Face (Artist!Ryan)

Where Can I Go When I Want You Around (Prince!Ryan)

Nearly Witches

Another Observation (Agender!Ryan)

It’s Nice To Think You Are Always Wanted

Shh…It’s A Secret

You Rattle My Bones

She Had The World ($) (!)

^Part 2 ($) (!)

Film The World Before It Happens (!)

Free Form Poem (RyanxReaderxJon) (Submission)

Supernatural:

Dean:

Bear Bottles and Gun Shots

Beach Trip

Promise?

You’re My Dream

Chocolate Kisses

Game Over

Nothing To Write Home About (%) (!)

Sam:

5 Seconds Of Sam (%)

Mad At Nothing (!)

Sleep, Love

Castiel:

Learning

Let’s Just Pretend

Other

Midday Naps (%) (Kellin Quinn Imagine)

Emo? Emo. (%) (Dan Howell Imagine)

Young Love As Sweet As Can Be (%) (Dan x Reader x Phil)

More Than You Bargained For (Dan x Reader x Phil)

Zero To Hero (Tyler Oakley Imagine)

Magic In The Midnight Sun (Brandon Flowers Imagine)

You Stole My Head (Dallon Weekes Imagine)

Hey, Baby I’m Not Your Superhuman (Except That I Am) (Spiderman Imagine)

Screaming Daydreams (Submission (Poem, no ship)

I’m Trying My Best (Submission, William Beckett x Reader)

#masterlist #mcr #mcr imagine #my chemical romance imagine #my chemical romance #fob #fall out boy #fob imagine #fall out boy imagine #p!atd #p!atd imagine #panic! at the disco imagine #panic! at the disco #bandom #imagine #im srry there isnt many new ones #im also srry it wont let me add a read more and idk why so ya srry

[transsexualfrankiero]

Fanfic rec?

Ooh that's a rough one. I'd honestly need more specification but I'm gonna assume that u just want any and all so

BEFORE THE CONTINUES I WANT TO SPECIFY I DO NOT CONDONE SHIPPING OF REAL PEOPLE IN PUBLIC SPHERES. DO NOT BRING UP SHIPS TO PEOPLE INVOLVED. DO NOT POST ABOUT IT ON SOCIAL MEDIA THEY INTERACT ON. LEAVE IT FOR TUMBLR (unless they're on here) AND UR FUCKING AO3. IF A PERSON INVOLVED SAYS THEY'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT, DON'T FUCKING MENTION IT. PSA OVER

My Frerard pics:

Unholyverse (obvs)

Like sleep to the freezing (it's actually lynz/gerard/frank and is like post apocolypse)

Skin of the canvas (frank is a nude model. Enough said)

Truth on the airwaves (probably my favorite, desolation row au)

Through the trees (it's a werewolf AU so it's bound to be dumb but it's fun to read so)

Feels like drowning (mermaid au!! MERMAID AU!!!!)

The science of sleep (I actually got this one from a fic rec a few months back. It's like if danger days canon intersected with irl)

Public enemy (heehee hoohoo cops and robbers au)

The anatomy of a fall (honestly I only remember liking it I have no idea what the plot is. Description says high school au / ghost au. It's 104k words have fun)

Peterick ones I like include:

The kids aren't alright - (this is teacher/student which I don't approve of but I think the storyline is sweet) (the writing is kinda shit tho)

It's not a side effect of the cocaine - (uhh it's basically just "what if pete and patrick were famous but for different reasons but it's pretty good?? I've never finished it but I've gotten pretty far in)

I have forgiven jesus - (I lied. This is my favorite. I've read it 3 times and it's still good everytime. Patrick priest au. It talks about racism and homophobia very heavily cw)

Pretty in punk - (essentially van days fob but it's the 80s and if I remember correctly the ending is sad and hiv cw)

Time after time (how many times do I have to recommend this goddamn fic before people start reading it. It's beautiful. The author is amazing. I haven't touched it in 2 years but I saw the name in my history and I had flashbacks. Go read it.)

And I'm currently reading it all tastes the same in the dark which is a matty/George (the 1975) fic that I don't really know how to describe? Like it's just an au. I'm pretty sure the end goal is that the four main boys end up being in a band together it's just in different circumstances than real life. Idk but if I finish it I'll get back to u on it.

All of these fics are on ao3 btw. If u want wattpad fics, send me another ask for it because that's a whole other deep dive and I'm probably gonna have to reread a lot of them cause what I thought was good in 2014/15 is probably shit.

#asks #fic rec

[ramrodd]

Could the case be made that because he started the War on Drugs, Richard Nixon was a worse president than George W. Bush?

The case that GW Bush is America’s second worse president, behind Pontius POTUS, is facial in nature.

COMMENTARY:

The Joe McCarthy Conservatives who have been the dominant coalition in the GOP since Reagan came to town with the champagne, cocaine and Cadillac cars of the Hollywood, Miami and Wall Street mafia fucked up Nixon’s presidency by the same sort of Trickster bull shit Roger Stone just got convicted of. Roger Stone actually got on the GOP Shadow Agenda gravey train with Reagan and was not a founding member of the Plumbers, but he fit right in when he wormed his way into the Nixon campaign. He’s a post Kent State-pro-war draft dodger: he turned 18 the year the draft more or less ended. The Woodstock Nation was the dominant social coalition on the American campus and GWU would have been a nightmare for a congenital white supremacist, what with Black Power and the left-wing dialectical small talk excluding him and similar white male ammosexuals and Born Again shock troops from the sexual revolution pretty conclusively. i mean, at a time when Little Feat and Bruce Springsteen are getting real traction, people like Roger Stone are inventing CPAC so they can have some fun with people like them. I mean, it’s part of the success of AmWay is their employment of the community as a capitalist tool, a sort of ComicCon for the John Birch Society.

And it was people like Roger Stone that not only fucked up Nixon’s presidency by all things Watergate, but have been committed, as ideologically bound Joe McCarthy Conservatives, to blowing up Nixon’s foreign and domestic policies and Eisenhower’s 1956 Presidential Platform so that they could transfer as much wealth out of the American middle class and public treasuries to people earning $50,000/year on an accelerating curve of benefits to the top 1% - 3% of the economic pyramid, which is the whole point of the Tory Socialism of Reaganomics: the rich are divinely appointed to get richer and the poor are always with us.

I mean, Betsy DeVos just drips of that attitude, the self-righteousness of Oligarchs in the conduct of class warfare they rationalize as either Social Darwinism or scriptural, depending on their favorite version of their Ideal Self, the great Romantic Hero, unyielding in the face of desparate odds and spitting in the face of the tyranny of the rule of law for poor people and their Social Justice/liberation Gospel terrorists.

So, Nixon’s response to any recreational drug without an alcoholic base with the War on Drugs was a residual impluse from the need for moral perfection through social engineer represented by the 18th Amendment. The 21st Amendment is the evidence that the US Constituiton establishes a self-aware cultural milieu for a society that can learn from its mistakes and fix them.

The War on Drugs is the evidence that political expedience can sabotage that dynamical quality, either out of ignorance, a congenital inability to learn from experience or, as Grover Norquist’s “starve the beast’ agenda and Steve Bannon’s agenda to dismantle the administrative state and Newt Gingrich’s politics of violent revolution demonstrate, are policies deliberately undertaken for craven appetites and mercenary intent, such as the Pro-Life heresy and all things Joe McCarthy Conservative.

Marxism and the 18th Amendment are established on the same fallacy and violation of natural law, that is, the suppression of market forces in the human condition. To legislate against human nature, as Marxism does, is an act of violence, in and of itself. The US Constitution legislates in favor of human potential and determines a progressive process that allows the American body politic to become increasing self-aware and systematic in its own self-government. This is totally within the ideal and intent of Romans 13:1 - 7, which is the legal reasoning for Jesus’s Heaven on Earth, the ethos of secular humanism and the Aristotilean (emperical) English common law as the proper basis for a system of justice based on a balance in favor of equity over property and natural law emerging from metaphysical knowledge as opposed to divine interpretation.

The War on Drugs was (and is) a useful moral club for achieving transactional political purposes and Nixon was a practical politician. My cousin Woodie’s cultural reflex was to consider Jim Crow Laws as self-apparent divine necessity, a craven attitude shared by the white supremacist conventions of the Joe McCarthy Conservatives who instinctively cringe at #BlackLivesMatter. The evidence is that R.L. Lee went South to protect his property, with the defense of Virginia being a convenient convention to sustain his conceit of Honor, as in “Duty, Honor, Country”. “Honor” has always been a wiggle word for applie equivocation, as the difference between John McCain’s and Mitt Romney’s version of Honor versus the Republican vote on Impeachment and the “Honor” of Don Corleone, where treason is just the continuation of Capitalism by additional means.

Nixon set two processes in motion:

internationally, he established a diplomatic aspiration with the Soviets and the Red Chinese to enable the Soviet-Sino Marxist economies to begin a transition to something like the experiment in Free Enterprise Marxism being conducted by Vietnam. I call this diplomatic aspiration Peaceful Structures;

domestically, he and Daniel Patrick Moynihan devised a legislative design to transform the Military-Industrial Complex to the Aerospace-Entrepreneurial Matrix necessary to catch the global synergies wave from Apollo 11 and create the 100 year economic trajectory necessary to support a permanent moon colony beginning with a NASA-Soyuz lab on the moon by 2001, just like the movie. I call this domestic economic agenda “Affirmative Action” and it is the precursor mobilization to what AOC intuits as the Green New Deal and Paul Krugman more or less illustrates, chapter and verse.

Since 1972, the political agenda associated with the Joe McCarthy Conservatives has been committed to blowing up Nixon’s presidential legacy. Roger Stone may have Nixon tattooed across his shoulder blades, but. like Newt Gingrich, Steve Bannon and Grover Norquist, he is up to his eyeballs in a transparent domestic conspiracy to sabotage the presidential critical path, an agenda CPAC is celebrating as I write this.

As for the War on Drugs, if anyone set out to deliberately design a national policy of class warfare based on white supremacy and systemic racial suppressing, it would be difficult to improve on this on-going Holocaust perpetuated by both sides of the ailse for pretty much the same reason: it has been politically expedient in spite of the example of the relationship between the 18th and 21st Amendment.

George W. Bush is a creature of the Joe McCarthy Conservative agenda. His dad had the last Republican administration dominated by the adult leadership of the Eisenhower-Romney Republicans who helped Nixon and Ford implement Peaceful Structures and Affirmative Action. Bush didn’t really become President until he fired Rumsfeld and replaced him with Bob Gates, another member of the adult leadership generation of Eisenhower Romney Republicans. Until then, he was Special Presidential Assistant to Richard “Dick” Cheney, America’s favorite war criminal. The 2008 mortgage crises is a direct result of the Reaganomics the Joe McCarthy Conservatives have been committed to replacing for Affirmative Action.

John Bolton’s foreign policy agenda is the anti-Peaceful Structures element of the Joe McCarthy Conservative America First Copperhead appeal to the Tea Party ammosexuals, white supremacists and MAGA hat bigots and it produced Bill Kristol’s and Robert Kagan’s Project for the New American Century, which is the moral justification for “regime change” and America’s descent into an outlaw nation status with our invasion of Iraq. The incursion into Afghanistan against al Qaeda was at least as diplomatically proper as Jefferson’s scourging of the Barbary pirates, but the invasion of Iraq was based on a pretext with less substance that Pontius POTUS’s claim of the “perfect phone call” and treason as a capitalist tool.

So, in the moral scales of history, does the fact that Nixon initiated a policy of class warfare based on white supremacist outcomes but presented as a moral imperative outweigh Good Old “W”s reduction of a cosmopolitan society to the stone age in order to satisfy Cheney’s rain making for his Houston Big Oil patrons but defended with a pretext of a national emergency as empty as of substance as a Rush Limpdick coronaconspiracy mind fart?

After he became President in 2007, he and Obama actually collaborated in what can only be termed as a spectacular aversion of a profound economic disaster and a resulting economic recovery design that, until the effects of Brexit began to hit Wall Street with this coronavirus meltdown, was manifestly a successful foundation for whoever inherited the economy in 2017. Obama and Clinton doubled down on the outlaw status they inherited from Bush-Cheney in the assassination of Ghaddafi, but the Iranian Nuclear Deal began to ease America back into the Peaceful Structures column, which, of course, Duckass Donny immediately began to dismantle to satisfy the Mercers conditions for bankrolling his campaign and Steve Bannon’s global anti-constitutional agenda.

Vietnam created the conditions for the collapse of the Soviet Union and Nixon leveraged those conditions to establish a coherent global impulse to generalize the lessons learned from the success of American-British constitutional capitalism, internationally, and join in a common aspiration to get to Mars.

GW Bush established America as the most dangerous nation in the world, betraying his father’s service and his own oath to protect and defend the US Constitution by adopting The Project for a New American Century to replace the Marshall Plan that had defeated Stalin’s Marxist expansionism in 1947 for the benefit of Cheney’s big oil patrons.

I think, to the extent that the Joe McCarthy Conservatives have been to actively sabotaging Nixon’s presidential legacy since 1972, they have been, collectively, engaged in constitutional sabotage, political treachery and treason, the case can be made that GW Bush is America’s second worse president, behind Pontius POTUS.

[ryankpowell]

Email To Bar Counsel To “Go F*#k Yourself!!!” Surefire Way To Attorney Discipline (Even In New Jersey)

Like voluntarily sticking one’s head into a lion’s den, communicating with Disciplinary Counsel can be a risky proposition.  Whatever the reason for the communication, attorneys should be mindful not only about what they are saying but how they are saying it.  This is not a difficult concept for most to grasp, but the Bar expects attorneys to conduct themselves in a certain way.

The expected way is to treat Disciplinary Counsel, as well as their staff (including attorneys and investigators who work for Bar Counsel), with a level of dignity and courtesy that evinces respect for their office and the power that Bar Counsel has over those members of the profession who value their law license.

And then there is Michael Rychel’s way.

Mr. Rychel, a New Jersey attorney, learned the hard way that there are some things you should never, ever say to Bar Counsel (and certainly not in writing).  And an email telling the chief Disciplinary Counsel of the state where you are licensed to “Go Fuck Yourself!!!!!” is, well, frowned upon.   See In re Michael E. Rychel, Dkt. No. DRB 16-250 (Decided Apr. 10, 2017), ordered, Dkt. No. D-125 (N.J. Feb. 9, 2018)

Mr. Rychel’s unfortunate situation arose not because he was the subject of an ethics investigation.  Rather, Mr. Rychel himself had filed a grievance against his former employer, another lawyer.  Mr. Rychel’s grievance was lodged with the New Jersey Supreme Court’s Office of Attorney Ethics (OAE), which is tasked with investigating such matters and, where appropriate, filing ethics charges against attorneys.  That office is headed by Mr. Charles Centinaro.  As such, Mr. Centinaro is the highest ranking attorney ethics official in The Garden State.

During the course of the investigation, Mr. Rychel sent an email to Mr. Scott Fitz-Patrick, an OAE investigator who works for Mr. Centinaro.  In that first email, Mr. Rychel wrote:

Hi Scott: Given my spare time I went through my evidence files. I had discovered something that I did not share with you, but may have some relevance if in [sic] the event you’re looking to do justice. Attached hereto you’ll find a memo that was circulated around the office post JH’s alleged “going crazy.” Take note that they make fun of this guy because he opposes/es [sic] “State Offenses, …. Insurance Fraud, and “Ethics Violations.” Do me a big favor and tell Director Centinaro, THANKS FOR THE BACK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really appreciate his f*****g lack of concern. THIS IS A F*****G ATROCITY THAT AN HONEST LAW ABIDING ATTORNEY SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS S**T!!!!!! TELL CHARLES CENTINARO THAT I SAID TO GO F**K HIM SELF [sic]!!!!!!!! QUOTE ME IN YOUR REPORT!!!!!! NO OFFENSE AGAINST YOU, I KNOW YOU’RE A DECENT HONEST GUY. mIKE RYCHEL

A few minutes later–and apparently wanting to really make sure that the top ethics attorney in the state of New Jersey received his first email, Mr. Rychel wrote a second email.  This time, Mr. Rychel cut out the middleman and sent his email directly to Director Centinaro:

Hey Charlie, here’s an example of what you’re [sic] f*****g AMBULANCE CHASING attorneys and their minions do to honest hardworking attorneys who comport their conduct to the RPC’s, 2C and the IRS code. Thanks so much for the back up [sic]. Look personally between me and you GO F**K YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mike Rychel

As a result of these two emails, an ethics committee of the New Jersey Supreme Court (the Disciplinary Review Board) filed a disciplinary complaint against Mr. Rychel.  The complaint charged Rychel for violating N.J. Rule of Professional Conduct 3.2, which states a lawyer “shall treat with courtesy and consideration all persons involved in the legal process.”

The Review Board found that both emails were unethical in that they contained “vulger, highly offensive language, directed at a significant official in the Court’s attorney discipline system.”  The Board explained that “[d]isrespectful or insulting conduct to persons involved in the legal process leads to a broad range of discipline, ranging from admonition to disbarment.”  Indeed, the Board’s opinion was replete with citations to other New Jersey cases in which counsel were disciplined for uncivil and unprofessional conduct.  See e.g. In re Geller, 177 N.J. 505 (2003) (reprimanding attorney who characterized judge’s orders as “horseshit”; referred in a deposition to two judges as “corrupt” and labeling one of them “short, ugly, and insecure”; called his adversary “a thief”; and the opposing party “a moron,” who “lies like a rug.”).

In a split decision, the Review Board in Rychel’s matter found that his conduct warranted a reprimand–which is by no means the worst penalty an attorney could receive.  See In re Vincenti, 152 N.J. 253 (1998) (disbarment for attorney with five prior disciplinary violations and who was described by court as “arrogant bully,” “ethically bankrupt” and a “renegade attorney”).

The Review Board also made clear that it “matters not that respondent did not direct his vulgarity and ire to a judge sitting on a bench or to an adversary while in the courtroom.”  Indeed, the court made clear that it expects “all attorneys will interact professionally and respectfully with all persons involved in the administration of justice, regardless of whether the interaction occurs in a courtroom or simply in the context of a legally disputed matter.”

On February 9, 2018, the Supreme Court of New Jersey issued an Order (here) accepting the Review Board’s decision and reprimanding Rychel for violating New Jersey Rule 3.2 by failing to treat all persons involved in the legal process with “courtesy and respect.”

Hat tip to Legal Profession Blog for first reporting this decision.

Civility At The USPTO

The rules of civility and professionalism embodied in the various states’ codes of professional conduct also find parallels in the USPTO’s ethics rules.

As we discussed in our post (here), entitled USPTO Suspends Attorney for Six Months for Derogatory Patent Filings, attorney Andrew Schroeder got himself in ethical hot water for accusing a patent examiner of “drinking scotch and whiskey with a side of crack cocaine” while he examined patent applications and suggesting the examiner was mentally challenged.

In another office action response, Schroeder questioned the patent examiner’s competence based on national origin and compared an examiner to “athletes who participate in the Special Olympics [who] might initially make the same mistake after a wild night of cocaine and strippers in Las Vegas.”

These opinions serve as stark reminders that the duty of “zealous advocacy” has its limits.  And the practice of law can be extremely stressful.  But controlling that stress and channeling that anger is critical to effective representation.  Indeed, many of the finest attorneys I know are filled with rage–but they have done an extraordinary job of not letting the other side (or the tribunal) know exactly how they might feel.

On the other side of the coin, telling Bar Counsel to “Go Fuck Yourself” or suggesting a Patent Examiner is a “retard” is not advocacy.  It is, quite simply, bullying tactics and demonstrates an utter lack of impulse control.  Such tactics are sure to backfire; they will not help your client or you.

Avoid The Angry Email

Many of the situations described in the cases that demonstrate lack of civility and unprofessional behavior can be traced back to the ease of sending emails without thinking.  Psychologists offer the following tips (see article here) for how to avoid the “angry email”:

Don’t hit send at all.  Talk to the person if you can.

Wait.  Emotions are short-lived.

Have the email read by someone else.

Be professional.

Be emoticon free.

Think.  Ask yourself why you are sending the email.  Will it achieve your desired result? If the point is just to vent, it is probably better not to sent the email at all and find some other way to exercise your anger.

source http://www.ipethicslaw.com/email-to-bar-counsel-to-go-fk-yourself-surefire-way-to-attorney-discipline-even-in-new-jersey/

[philipmgonzalez]

Email To Bar Counsel To “Go F*#k Yourself!!!” Surefire Way To Attorney Discipline (Even In New Jersey)

Like voluntarily sticking one’s head into a lion’s den, communicating with Disciplinary Counsel can be a risky proposition.  Whatever the reason for the communication, attorneys should be mindful not only about what they are saying but how they are saying it.  This is not a difficult concept for most to grasp, but the Bar expects attorneys to conduct themselves in a certain way.

The expected way is to treat Disciplinary Counsel, as well as their staff (including attorneys and investigators who work for Bar Counsel), with a level of dignity and courtesy that evinces respect for their office and the power that Bar Counsel has over those members of the profession who value their law license.

And then there is Michael Rychel’s way.

Mr. Rychel, a New Jersey attorney, learned the hard way that there are some things you should never, ever say to Bar Counsel (and certainly not in writing).  And an email telling the chief Disciplinary Counsel of the state where you are licensed to “Go Fuck Yourself!!!!!” is, well, frowned upon.   See In re Michael E. Rychel, Dkt. No. DRB 16-250 (Decided Apr. 10, 2017), ordered, Dkt. No. D-125 (N.J. Feb. 9, 2018)

Mr. Rychel’s unfortunate situation arose not because he was the subject of an ethics investigation.  Rather, Mr. Rychel himself had filed a grievance against his former employer, another lawyer.  Mr. Rychel’s grievance was lodged with the New Jersey Supreme Court’s Office of Attorney Ethics (OAE), which is tasked with investigating such matters and, where appropriate, filing ethics charges against attorneys.  That office is headed by Mr. Charles Centinaro.  As such, Mr. Centinaro is the highest ranking attorney ethics official in The Garden State.

During the course of the investigation, Mr. Rychel sent an email to Mr. Scott Fitz-Patrick, an OAE investigator who works for Mr. Centinaro.  In that first email, Mr. Rychel wrote:

Hi Scott: Given my spare time I went through my evidence files. I had discovered something that I did not share with you, but may have some relevance if in [sic] the event you’re looking to do justice. Attached hereto you’ll find a memo that was circulated around the office post JH’s alleged “going crazy.” Take note that they make fun of this guy because he opposes/es [sic] “State Offenses, …. Insurance Fraud, and “Ethics Violations.” Do me a big favor and tell Director Centinaro, THANKS FOR THE BACK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really appreciate his f*****g lack of concern. THIS IS A F*****G ATROCITY THAT AN HONEST LAW ABIDING ATTORNEY SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS S**T!!!!!! TELL CHARLES CENTINARO THAT I SAID TO GO F**K HIM SELF [sic]!!!!!!!! QUOTE ME IN YOUR REPORT!!!!!! NO OFFENSE AGAINST YOU, I KNOW YOU’RE A DECENT HONEST GUY. mIKE RYCHEL

A few minutes later–and apparently wanting to really make sure that the top ethics attorney in the state of New Jersey received his first email, Mr. Rychel wrote a second email.  This time, Mr. Rychel cut out the middleman and sent his email directly to Director Centinaro:

Hey Charlie, here’s an example of what you’re [sic] f*****g AMBULANCE CHASING attorneys and their minions do to honest hardworking attorneys who comport their conduct to the RPC’s, 2C and the IRS code. Thanks so much for the back up [sic]. Look personally between me and you GO F**K YOURSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mike Rychel

As a result of these two emails, an ethics committee of the New Jersey Supreme Court (the Disciplinary Review Board) filed a disciplinary complaint against Mr. Rychel.  The complaint charged Rychel for violating N.J. Rule of Professional Conduct 3.2, which states a lawyer “shall treat with courtesy and consideration all persons involved in the legal process.”

The Review Board found that both emails were unethical in that they contained “vulger, highly offensive language, directed at a significant official in the Court’s attorney discipline system.”  The Board explained that “[d]isrespectful or insulting conduct to persons involved in the legal process leads to a broad range of discipline, ranging from admonition to disbarment.”  Indeed, the Board’s opinion was replete with citations to other New Jersey cases in which counsel were disciplined for uncivil and unprofessional conduct.  See e.g. In re Geller, 177 N.J. 505 (2003) (reprimanding attorney who characterized judge’s orders as “horseshit”; referred in a deposition to two judges as “corrupt” and labeling one of them “short, ugly, and insecure”; called his adversary “a thief”; and the opposing party “a moron,” who “lies like a rug.”).

In a split decision, the Review Board in Rychel’s matter found that his conduct warranted a reprimand–which is by no means the worst penalty an attorney could receive.  See In re Vincenti, 152 N.J. 253 (1998) (disbarment for attorney with five prior disciplinary violations and who was described by court as “arrogant bully,” “ethically bankrupt” and a “renegade attorney”).

The Review Board also made clear that it “matters not that respondent did not direct his vulgarity and ire to a judge sitting on a bench or to an adversary while in the courtroom.”  Indeed, the court made clear that it expects “all attorneys will interact professionally and respectfully with all persons involved in the administration of justice, regardless of whether the interaction occurs in a courtroom or simply in the context of a legally disputed matter.”

On February 9, 2018, the Supreme Court of New Jersey issued an Order (here) accepting the Review Board’s decision and reprimanding Rychel for violating New Jersey Rule 3.2 by failing to treat all persons involved in the legal process with “courtesy and respect.”

Hat tip to Legal Profession Blog for first reporting this decision.

Civility At The USPTO

The rules of civility and professionalism embodied in the various states’ codes of professional conduct also find parallels in the USPTO’s ethics rules.

As we discussed in our post (here), entitled USPTO Suspends Attorney for Six Months for Derogatory Patent Filings, attorney Andrew Schroeder got himself in ethical hot water for accusing a patent examiner of “drinking scotch and whiskey with a side of crack cocaine” while he examined patent applications and suggesting the examiner was mentally challenged.

In another office action response, Schroeder questioned the patent examiner’s competence based on national origin and compared an examiner to “athletes who participate in the Special Olympics [who] might initially make the same mistake after a wild night of cocaine and strippers in Las Vegas.”

These opinions serve as stark reminders that the duty of “zealous advocacy” has its limits.  And the practice of law can be extremely stressful.  But controlling that stress and channeling that anger is critical to effective representation.  Indeed, many of the finest attorneys I know are filled with rage–but they have done an extraordinary job of not letting the other side (or the tribunal) know exactly how they might feel.

On the other side of the coin, telling Bar Counsel to “Go Fuck Yourself” or suggesting a Patent Examiner is a “retard” is not advocacy.  It is, quite simply, bullying tactics and demonstrates an utter lack of impulse control.  Such tactics are sure to backfire; they will not help your client or you.

Avoid The Angry Email

Many of the situations described in the cases that demonstrate lack of civility and unprofessional behavior can be traced back to the ease of sending emails without thinking.  Psychologists offer the following tips (see article here) for how to avoid the “angry email”:

Don’t hit send at all.  Talk to the person if you can.

Wait.  Emotions are short-lived.

Have the email read by someone else.

Be professional.

Be emoticon free.

Think.  Ask yourself why you are sending the email.  Will it achieve your desired result? If the point is just to vent, it is probably better not to sent the email at all and find some other way to exercise your anger.

from McCabe IP Ethics Law http://www.ipethicslaw.com/email-to-bar-counsel-to-go-fk-yourself-surefire-way-to-attorney-discipline-even-in-new-jersey/

[pkmntrainergreyze]

The Emo School (Chapter 3)

Previous

Chapter 3: Modern Day Pain...

I didn't fail the test, I just found 100 ways to do it wrong. -Benjamin Franklin

09/14/01 FRIDAY

D A L L O N   W E E K E S

"Cocaine is God's way of saying you're making too much money, now that's just bull-f*ckin-sh*t Robin Williams, debunked"

I don't know how I got my hands on a 1000 funny quotes book, I don't know why I'm even reading it. Life sucks, that's how it works.

I'm contradicting myself am I? No? Okay, let's keep it that way-

"Dallon have you seen my cra-" he stopped my destructive train of thoughts that will have me go psycho again.

"No Brendon, ask Pete" I replied with a blank stare

"Uhh... no thanks"

Sycophant

Now, I guess that's my hypocrite self spitting venom. To think that I actually managed to slack off this shift made me wanna throw up. Just anxious stuff, sounds like a blog name, if I had access to blogs and not MySpace would have done things like that a long time ago.

(we have Tumblr Dal— oh wait, this is the early two thousands lel)

I'm think I'll the pink slip anytime soon, I can't help it, those lingering devils are going to be the death of me. I mean, once I enter the class I feel like choking myself for a trip to the clinic.

I sound like a really problematic guy, but then again, almost everyone has bigger problems than me. I just need to thank God I'm not in Pete's shoes.

I promise I'll do much better next Monday.

Seriously.

But then again, the students here are already talented and intelligent, sure with some exceptions nevertheless I'm still frightened by them.

"Are you just going to sit around inside the faculty Dallon? I think your students are worried. You don't have to worry about Miss Flack you know she regretted being the rebellious stage"

Snapping my head to the direction of the voice with a bit of distraught, I sighted Tyler with a box of cereal.

"Hello Tyler"

"Hello to you too Dall-"

"Salutations!"

There popped Josh with his trendy hat on, newly dyed hair, no care, like he didn't interrupted a conversation earlier, but I didn't mind and Tyler didn't seem to be upset either, they're friends after all.

"Have you seen Brendon?" "Yeah, asking for the same question here as well"

After Josh spoke, Tyler indeed raised his hand like an average student. I remained in my position before answering their very opposite toned questions "Yeah, he was just here a while ago before you entered, he probably went back to find his wee- lunchbox"

Josh smiled while Tyler's eyes furrowed a bit, questioning me with a hint of concern. "Thanks Dal, see ya later!"

With that, I was left in the room with an awkward situation with Tyler.

"U-Uh, see you later as well"

Thus, they both left the scene.

Tyler seems a little less confident today, a little more perplexed. Oh well, it is Tyler Joseph.

Sighing a bit, waiting for Brendon to get in trouble later on; I opened the book once more, licking my fingers, before entering page three hundred and ninety-four.

●-----------------------●

"Guys can someone name all the borders Egypt has-"

Riiiiiiiiing

"A-alright I'll see you all next Tuesday"

I didn't even notice the clock, oh well. Maybe I'm not fit for a History Teacher. I'd sometimes wish they could just find a replacement so I could retire and not feel bad about it.

I could hear the continous rumbling noises from the students' side of the room once they dragged the chairs out to stand up and leave. It did took me a while to understand the salty aftertaste it left on my mouth. Instead of complaining I just readied myself for the next class to enter and... Probably chew gum and place another batch underneath the tables... Our poor janitor's been through a lot today.

Chewing gum isn't cool or the janitor won't have fun in school.

That... It reminds me of Dad...

●-----------------------●

"How can you say sorry to a man who's probably high on drugs?" Ryan pondered as he took a sip of milk through a white and red stripped bendy straw.

I stared at his looking-through-space form.

"You're the philosopher and a very known substitute science teacher here, I'm pretty sure both things go well if you're a pro, you tell us"

Silence.

Then it hit me

"Wait— is that why Brendon's not here?"

That childish man-child wouldn't stop doing weird things huh? Yesterday he texted me saying stranger things with the lines of "quitting pipes", making me look like a very guileless teenager who just learned what methamphetamine means.

What—of course I knew what drugs are!

What do you mean Brendon sprinkled 'magical coke' on me, coca cola isn't a very solid material—

"Yeah, I told him to fuck off yesterday, I was really pissed off when he told me to put back the white cheese in the grocery shelves"

Of course that would happen.

"I don't know Ryan, treat him like a human being-" he gave me a mini glare, oh shit I didn't mean for it to sound... Nevermind.

"s-since some people think stoners don't have a life" I added to make it sound more... decent.

How do you control men at their age of 27? Exactly, I don't get the appeal on doing it as well, let them run around, do weird crap that'll get them fired.

Actually, don't do that.

I wonder if Brendon's interested in things like the 27 club-

No Dallon, bad thoughts Dallon. Bad thoughts.

"Just say sorry or something, give him space when he avoids you a bit too much... "

That advice sucks so bad, just like the way Ryan eats his cheese whiz.

I hope Ryan doesn't blame me if everything went downhill

"I'm blaming you if everything went downhill" He laughed after saying such playful words that make me shiver "You're too easy to read Man-Tree, and yeah, I know, it's okay if you didn't have any idea what to give for an advice"

At least he took a hint on not doing what I said.

Wait did he just compare me to a tree, I feel sorta honored—

From the corner of my left eye; I saw Patrick sprinting away confused and scared of Ryan's words.

"Eh, now I understand why Patrick would start to avoid me" "You can say that again"

●-----------------------●

I'm still unsure how to feel about Miss Williams' presence in the cafeteria. I mean, sure, she's known for being a great librarian and she also teaches in the senior building but still...

I'm still not used to seeing her here rather that seeing her inside the library, reading somethings I don't understand.

"Geez Dal, is it really weird for me to buy food here?"

"Yes Hayley, it just is"

She laughs and put down the tray on top of the cliche tables. The clock strucking on twelve would make sure that break's over.

"Well, get used to it. I'm tired of waking up early to make lunch, and besides food here is amazing" Her laugh has always been familiar for everyone. The Juniors considers her a cool and casual teacher that they'll love to learn from... Wish I could be like that, not complaining though, I love Dadlon.

"Hey, I'm not saying you shouldn't eat here and all"

"I know Dal"

●-----------------------●

"I feel like the electrolyte in a battery terminal"

"Why so Frankie?"

"Please don't call me that Dallon" Frank cringed before rubbing his shoulders while it shook. Seems like only Gerard can get to call him that, what a shame.

"I just got here, what happened?" I threw the plastic from the burgers straight down the trashcan, he just watched and waited until I come back.

"Welp, two of my rad students just roasted one another and now teachers are pretty much asking me things I don't even know" He sighed, stressed.

"I mean, how am I supposed to know what's the cause of the problem?" He flipped his hands and shrugged, as of to look clueless and annoyed.

"Don't you roast people?"

Okay, why did I say that.

"..."

"...Oh yeah I get it, whatever. I'm proud of my students, if I we're the principal I'll let them graduate" His comment of self awareness isn't making things better.

●-----------------------●

"Hey Brendon you alright?"

Brendon's been pulling his hair for a straight minute, he's bent over while sitting on his chair like he's going to break any minute, of course he's not alright.

"I-I can't take it"

His eyes looked puffy from both crying and a side effect of something I wouldn't wanna know.

"Shh, it's going to be okay" I tried removing the hands he used to cup his face but he appears to be much stronger than me.

He curls up, knees now covering his eyes and his arms strengthening the force that defends his pride.

"What happened?"

"Re-relapse? I don't f*cking know. I've been trying to make myself think that I won't be smoking but it always ends up like this Dal"

"Shh, shh, I'll tell Pete you're sick, I'll substitute"

Okay, wrong move, I don't know how to deal with students. But for Brendon... I wouldn't mind helping... He's a great friend after all, even though he's kind of a dick.

"T-thanks..."

"Anytime"

●-----------------------●

"It gets tiring honestly" I sipped on a new batch of coffee I prepared just two minutes ago while Ryan speaks gibberish, well, genius gibberish... That's not a thing I know.

"Sometimes people just forget that they should know who's worth their time and happiness or not, and they'll often use destructive emotions to get into the way of their relationship until two sides wouldn't dare speak with each other while one is hurting" He continued as he licked on the spoon of Cheese Whiz, gliding the cheese up to the tip of the spoon.

"Tell me Dal, have you given up a friendship?"

"Well, I don't think I have the guts to" I spoke with honesty "—but I should do that"

"Wow, that's kind of not conforting my situation right now"

"Oh sorry"

"But in all seriousness, I just hope he makes up his damn mind and if he ever says it's over then he should just keep it like we're strangers."

"Geez, you sure are quite frank with this. Have you lived through a rough path or something?" I successfully lightened up the mood, I can see Ryan smiling fron the corner of my eye.

"Well, you can't trust people easily who knows, they might steal your cheese" I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

"Ryan, no one says that"

"I did so deal with it Dallon"

●-----------------------●

"Hey there Mister Way" Micheal looked from his behind to see me greeting him "I've heard you've been visiting the music room with Mister Toro, what instrument are you interested in again?"

"More like forced by my brother and Ray, they want me to play the bass" Sounds about right.

"I could help you, you know?"

He shrugs "Thanks"

That blank stare would be the death of me, he looks like that one hero in an action movie that does Karate and that has bad temper.

Why is the Way brother's so complicated?

●-----------------------●

"Joshuuuuaa"

"Tyleeeeeer"

I witnessed one of those amazing scenes a human eye could record.

It was the miraculous handshake that the bestest friends does whenever they had the chance. Yeah, it may not be that rare of an action but it something that keeps me going.

"Woah, that's so cool guys!"

That was a big mistake.

Tyler hissed and threw his arms around Josh's neck while he tried hard to carry his odd friend. "Woah Tyler!"

"He. Just. Witnessed. Our. Secret. Handshake!" He hissed once more, emphasizing on each word. He added more stress on it than any normal person would.

"It's not that big of a deal—" "Of course it's a big deal Josh! That was something special to me! To us!"

Can I compare Tyler to a cat by now?

Seriously, he sounds like a cat thats been impaled with a knife to the gutter.

... Don't ask me why I know this.

●-----------------------●

"Okay Brendon, truth or dare?"

"Uhh... I'd say truth"

"If Ryan, Dallon or Spencer were to be hanging at the edge of a cliff, who would you pick?"

Brendon smirked as he continued to share a gaze with Spencer, who's shaking his head with the similar curved line plastered in his face.

"We all know the answer would lead to some four-thousand long *ss fanfiction"

What does he even mean by that? What's a fan fiction? Whatever it's probably Ryan. Although he wouldn't talk about him since...

wait

"What happened with you and Ryan?"

There was this prolonged silence that shouldn't have been that long if Brendon decided to speak early but he decided to go against the idea. He just stared, a little empty, like the time he was pranked

"He's having emotional mood swings inappropriate for his age, is all"

Well, I wouldn't call it a mood swing.

I mean, Ryan just love cheese, it's not like he's actually addicted to it like people joked around, right?

"Not true babe, I remember him using Cheese instead of cucumbers for therapeutic purposes" He emphasized on Babe and Therapeutic Purposes just to lace a sarcastic vibe on the topic about Ryan...

....

Nah, not true.

"Well, suit yourself"

I don't know why I'm easy to read.

"Because you're saying things out loud Mister Weekes!" The british transferee answered in such amusement. Spencer choked on his drink as he attempts to stiffle a laugh while the others, such as Josh and Frank (Iero, getting tired of correcting what Frank am I talking about with how many Franks are there) did not show any shame.

"Am I really saying it out loud?" Murmurous was the way my voice behaved. Patrick frantically nodded "Hells yeah"

"Hells yeah? Mister Stump says Hells Yeah?" Pete chimed in, slipping a seat next to Patrick and Tyler. "For the record Patrick, I am not letting you forget that, it's just historic- oh Mister Sheeran can you please hand the books you used to Miss Williams? It's been a week. Thanks"

As soon as the last student left for such 'delivery', the sounds of students seems to be getting farther and farther; with the exception of those who stays to wait for their service/school bus of course.

"What's up?" Pete joined the party.

"Nothing much, just our traditional Truth or Dare Friday, Brendon's turn to ask" While Joe—who just finished his class at Grade Twelve—spoke, Pete sips into his starbucks coffee.

"Cool, continue Brendon"

"You in?"

"Nah"

"Pay for view."

Joe's small joke sent Pete a payful glare at the Trohman-Fro man. "Later", he answered.

"Well, Gerard" there was this sparking tension once Gerard's responce came knocking "Yes?"

Brendon's face turned rock solid, like some action movie interrogation is about to happen as he stared at what seems to be a "punk criminal" at the moment and he was Clint Eastwood. Gerard didn't even flinch or look fazed, but rather reserved. "Do you believe in aliens?"

The fuc-

The question made him flinch real bad, some shocking news right? Brendon smirks, but no laughter was heard from him, rather the other players—plus Pete—in the game.

"I-I-uh..." Gerard pushes the stray locks of hairs behind the back of his ear, odd enough, I could now feel his nervousness. What, is he an alien or something?

"I-I'd say I'm a little too hesitant to answer that"

"Boo" Pete's response made others laugh along, although Gerard did glare at him.

I never thought a mysterious—and almost nefarious—character like him woulf sound nervous and look sweaty at that moment, "it's like that moment came from somewhere else"

"Agreed" Spencer replied in approval.

I'm speaking out loud again am I? Is this because of my lack of sleep? Yeesus— I mean... Yeah.

"Imagine if Gerard's an alien" The thought was bothering me and I have to say it, sorry "I mean, he looks like he could be one— I mean, he loves the scent of drugstores"

The conversation carried on with Frank adding details and the others consistently listening to his talk about Gerard's secret origins fron Reprise, even made a narration out of it

"And he's the artist who would get out of a planet called Reprise since he's so f*cking lonesome— Oh let's give him a acquaintances" Frank glances at the others with cheeks puffing from the breath he's beginning to hold, Pete laughs "How 'bout an alien space companion?"

"Oh! How about a pink masked alien-"

"no" Gerard blocked but Spencer's muffled laughs is still heard.

"-named Lola!" Josh's voice has audible enough and Gerard-proof for everyone to hear

And thus, this ship about an imaginary alien and a grumpy teacher was born

●-----------------------●

"Are you sure he didn't say that in a more normal way? Are you sure this story is real? I mean, it's a bit too descriptive if you ask me that's kinda skeptical—"

"No, he said it in a Gerard Way, of course he's weird Dallon. All the teachers here are way too young and talented Dal, they say and do weird things" Pete said, pathetically laughing at his own joke. He didn't mind though, he's too happy to even care. "And incase you forgot students here are as talented as well, only this time they're quite well known, and you're special too Dallon, you're a well known bassist not only in town you know? So hearing a story about a drunk comic artist isn't that odd if you know where to go"

"I... I just don't believe he would go around and say Easy Peasy Pumpkin Peasy and stuff like that..."

"He also said Pumpkin pie motherfucker in case you forgot" He added in such delight, I swear if this is some japanese cartoon there would be flying sparkles everywhere.

I stayed behind because I have to prepare myself for upcoming Summative Assessments and since I already noted Pete that Brendon won't come he said I should do his work for tomorrow. Welp, this is what friends are for, some are worth doing examinations for.

"Well, you haven't heard of Brendon's campfire stories back then haven't you?" Pete asked with a small smile, I shook my head to say no.

"No, I haven't"

I just came to this school last year, in November so I missed the month.

"Eheh, he should be doing that soon, our camping is in October after all, shame you didn't git to attend last year too" He teased "—he loves to freak kids out. I remember that one time he told the story of... What was that? LA Devotee was it? Oh, he doesn't only do horror, he actually tells some funny ones... He'd act drunk and tell history stuff just to mock the old history teacher"

I bet you all twenty bucks he was drunk, and about the history thing....

Looks like I'm not looking forward to that.

"Aww, don't be Dal" He pouted as he placed the globe on the top shelf "He just love to tease the guy so much, gosh I couldn't remember his name"

"Looks like you're old enough to retire" Joe chimed in with a small joke that had Pete to glare at him.

"Not yet Joe"

"Heh, my bad"

"I haven't heard of the old history teacher"

"I think his name was Briar or something, we're not that close" Joe shrugged as I almost wanna place my grabby habds to his hair. "He never really came back since he had to take care of something"

"Oh, I see" I just hope Brendon doesn't make fun of me at camping

"Oh dear, you're about to see how things go down in history at October. Some retirees would visit the school at the month" Pete smiled once more before snapping his fingers "Oh yeah! Last time we had Mister Tre to roast the kids' marshmallows"

"Yeah and he almost burned his clothes"

"It was pretty dope to see him roll around" Joe added more to his statement before chuckling loudly.

Our twittering didn't last long, like it usually does. Pete heard a call from his phone in the office, wow, he sure has some very nice hearing.

"Woops, be right back!" He left the room after he pointed his index finger to us.

"Bet you ten bucks it's his father"

"No need Joe, I already know it's him"

"I really love the way Pete still loves his Dad even though he just let him control one school, unlike his siblings" I chortled this time "welp, I think his father's just testing him. I think he's still new for a Principal"

"Yeah that's true, seems like only yesterday we'd jam out into Green Day and Misfits" He reminisced over the past memories.

"Wait, are you guys almost at the same age?"

"Yeah, Pete isn't that old as he looks. He's so fuckin' immature back then you know? God, his hair sucks so bad back in his emo phase"

"I HEARD THAT!"

Joe frozed but then the ice melted away when I snickered at the newfound look

"BUT ITS TRUE!"

Haha, yep. I still wanna teach at this school.

I looked around the office once more and found something pretty odd. It was a picture frame with four veey familiar figures.

"Is that..." I pointed at the object as Joe tilted his head lightly before snapping.

"Oh, that picture? Yeah, that was when we were to take a picture for an album we never really released"

"Really?" "Yes really"

"Then why does Andy looked like he's been edited to the picture?"

Joe snorted

"Andy always poses in that semi-sideview way, he's really there when the picture was shot. I swear" He said in all seriousness to stress on his words. I rolled my eyes.

"I doubt that"

"Oh why wont you ask Andy" "Wont be be offended though?"

"How would Princess be?" Joe stared with sincere confusion "He'd probably laugh cause it's true"

"Would he? That's more like your thing Joe" I muttered lowly but hoped for him to hear the words at the same time.

"... Yeah you're right kiddo"

I picked it out, thumbs onto the front frame and the others to support it. It was filtered in a light blue shade. It was Pete, Andy, Patrick and Joe from left to right. The names were written in beautiful fonts and were printed nicely, although seeing "Peter" and "Joseph" still makes me uncomfortable.

Joe was right, Pete's hair does suck so bad.

"Ouch, you guys are teaming up on me now? Jesus" Pete soon entered without me noticing, eh, I don't care if he heard my thoughs anymore.

"Hey, don't say his name in vain Peter" Joseph scolded with a small smirk when he said his name.

"Don't be a hypocrite Joseph, remember Senior Prom?"

"Oh I remember your geeky dance very well Peter" Joe laughed as he got coffee from the machine. Pete laughed as it seemed like the plan of bringing back awkward memories backfired.

"Whatever Joseph Roughman"

"I'm pretty sure the announcer at that time was kinky as hell" Joe and Pete continued the conversation, forgetting my presence. I don't mind, it's funny to watch them being so comfortable.

"Ah, didn't Patrick had this tied hair to the back that time?" "I think so, although nothing can defeat Brendon's forehead"

"Ye-yeah, right" Pete slyly hid his with his hair with a crooked smile. "Right..." He reassured himself, Joe smirks larger than earlier.

"Welp, we sure had good times with the band huh?"

"Yeah... I miss screaming"

"Eh, I miss Patrick's soul voice more than yours"

Pete glared at Joe as Joe defensively raised his two hands high. "Just sayin'! Just sayin'!"

"So... What was the name of the band?"

"Not was Dallon, it's kind of an underground band but we're Fall Out Boy"

"So you guys still a thing?"

"If you meant in a four-some gay relationship hell no, but sure why not?" Joe winked as Pete shivered in disgust

"Joe you disgust me" "I could tell that myself Pete"

"Don't mind Joe, but yeah, we still are. It's just that we're on a break for a while now" Pete grabbed Joe's empty cup into the trashcan as he asked for. "—I mean, even Ryan and Spencer was in a band with that Brent guy"

"Brent? Like Brendon?"

"Nope, Brent is a different person from our beloved B-den"

"Oh, never really knew about him" I sighed then placed the picture back at the table to which I saw it first. Pete gasped once it processed.

"Wait, you haven't heard of it yet? They'd use to play as Slight Anxiety or something, but Brent left and all. They're pretty well known in Nevada, New Jersey and Chicago. You probably heard of them from Mister Gioia as well" After Joe stated it I just brushed it for now, I should ask him that tomorrow.

"Nah, not really"

"I should lend you my copy of the cds sometime. Although don't forget, the titles are really wordy" His offering made me smile. Joe did the same. Wow, they're acting like a very supportive family, I might get my Dad vibes on.

"Oh, thank you. I'd love to hear it— I mean it's not like I'm doing that cause you're my boss or something but—"

"It's okay Dal. No problem" He understands.

#panic! at the disco #fall out boy #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #joe trohman #brendon urie #dallon weekes #ryan ross #spencer smith #jon walker #my chemical romance #gerard way #frank iero #the emo school #TES #green day #billie joe armstrong #tre cool #mike dirnt #I sometimes wonder why I wrote Tre as a brilliant scientist but then I remember his fab hair... could have been Billie too but naaaah #good luck reading for next chap of campfires and drunk history with breadbin urinal #thank gosh not one student from class reads my stories #should i add imagine dragons or somethin? #hayley's in the next chap I promise #*(I promise)

[hellofanimagination]

Masterlist as of 4/9/17

~Notes On My Writing Makes Me V Happy~

Bold=Contains Smut

Italics=Just Angst

(^)=Male Reader

($)=Threesome

(!)=Multiple Current Relationships (With the reader)

(+)=Basement AU

(*)=Punk AU

(@)=Danger Days AU

(%)=High School/College AU (or implies that they are younger)

(-)=Vampire AU

(&)=Parent/Pregnancy AU or involves kids (such as  Bandit)

(#)=Self Warm TW

Fall Out Boy:

Patrick:

Eternal Summer (%)

I Am Beautiful With You

Bad Trip, I Couldn’t Get Off

I Got Troubled Thoughts

I Would Sing You To Sleep

Lullabye (&)

Moan For Me

Blue Bubbles

Kisses on The Necks Of “Best Friends” (%)

Cause It’s Just Trust

Allie, I Was So Good Back Then

Take This To Your Grave

Cinderella She Seems So Easy

Pete:

It’s Not A Side Effect Of The Cocaine (^)

Andy:

Moving Pictures (&)

My Chemical Romance:

Gerard:

Urie’s House, 11 Tonight (%)

Don’t Go

I Need You

Please

Doctor Way

First Time (+)

Interview

^Part 2

Nicotine Kisses (*)

Hold Me

Study Date (*) (%)

Love Will Kill You (*) (%)

Too Fast (+)

Don’t Save Me (@)

Beautiful

Kiss Me You Animal

I Hate The Ending Myself (@)

Thief (@)

The Boys And Girls In The Clique (+) (%)

^ Parts 2 and 3

Not So Secret (@)

My Friends Blur (+) (%)

^Part 2

Dance, Dance (@)

You Belong To Me I Believe

Marry Me

Playground Eyes (#)

Blow Me..A Kiss (+)

They’ll Say It’s Not Worth It (+) (%)

Reinvent Love

Right Down To The Blood (*)

In A World Of Bad Dreams (-)

^Part 2

My Perfect Stranger (&)

Mama

In A Bullet’s Embrace (#)

Sounds Of Love-Notes

We Are The Dream (&)

Do It Now And Do It Loud

Young And Loaded (@)

A Love That’s So Demanding

^Part 2

What Are We Waiting For?

My Best Friend’s Brother

I Don’t Do ‘Parents’ (%) (*)

Remember When You And I Would Make Things Up? (&)

Protect Me From The Troubles Of My Own Skin (^) (#)

Hot For Teacher (%)

I Don’t Believe In Luck ($)

The World’s a Broken Bone (%) (+)

The World Is Ugly (#)

Everybody Wants To Know (%) (*)

It Was Always You (+)

Birthday Touches

Burnt Waffles Made With Love (&)

Don’t Bless Me Father For I Have Sinned

Blink Back To Let Me Know (%) (Fem!Gee)

Fight Me (Knight AU)

^Part 2

Tattoos Of Heroes Without Capes (@)

This Is How We Met, Cause We’re Fucking Nerds

We Will Stumble Through Heaven

I Can Make Your Heart Slow

Being Blue Is Better Than Being Over It

^Part 2

We Can Be Heroes (+)

I’ve Always Held My Doubts So Close To My Heart

Well There’s No Way I’m Kissing That Guy (-)

I Never Said I’d Lie And Wait Forever

This Is A Love Song In My Own Way

I’ve Got An Uncommon Love ($) (@) (!)

Can You Feel My Heart? (+)

In The Morning It Will All Be Better (+)

This Is The Best Day Ever

Bachelors For Bad Luck Girls (%)

I Want You In My Life

Only You (Asexual!Reader)

Dirty Little Secret (+)

I Promise You This

Lips Pressed Close To Mine

Sleeping Beauty

Without A Sound

If You Look In The Mirror And Don’t Like What You See (+)

Tell Me I’m A Bad Man ($)

Keep Running (@)

Cold On This Inside (^)

Such A Happy Mess

Throwing Stones At A Glass Moon (@) (&)

Follow Me Down (%)

We Spark and We Fade (Vampire Hunters AU)

Thin Line Between A Good And A Bad Idea

The Pros And Cons Of Breathing (#)

I Found The Cure To Growing Older (%)

Houston We’re Going Down (@)

Until You’ve Had Yourself A Hurricane

Spooky Scary And Drunk AF

Unashamed (^)

Comback Of The Year

Hesitant Alien

This Is How I Disappear

Don’t Wanna Fall In Love (*)

Shut Me Up

Frank:

Sweet Fun (@)

Hold A Lover Close (*) (%)

A Kiss And I Will Surrender

Say I Like You, And We Can Get Out

Promises That We’ll Make

I Don’t Believe In Luck ($)

Let’s Get These Teen Hearts Beating. Faster, Faster

Back To The Street Where We Began

I’ve Got An Uncommon Love ($) (@) (!)

Sometimes We Take Chances

Bruises On Your Thighs

Imaginary Wedding Gown (&)

Tell Me I’m A Bad Man ($)

Can’t Help Falling In Love

Mikey:

Stressed Out

Kiss And Tell

All My Feelings Exposed (^)

Let Me See Your Moves

You Can Have My Heart

Summer Time (^)

Adore

My Heart Is Yours (%)

Ray:

They Say Quitters Never Win

No Pairing:

Takes One To Know One

Untitled (Submission)

Not Another Boy Band (Genderfluid!Gee)

Hesitantly Me (Reader is Gee’s sister)

Panic! At The Disco:

Ryan:

I’d Do It All Again. I Think You’re My Best Friend

Milkshake Smiles (%)

^Part 2

I Just See The Sky

Girl, I’m Just Impressed With Your Face (Artist!Ryan)

Where Can I Go When I Want You Around (Prince!Ryan)

Nearly Witches

Another Observation (Agender!Ryan)

It’s Nice To Think You Are Always Wanted

Shh…It’s A Secret

You Rattle My Bones

She Had The World ($) (!)

Film The World Before It Happens (!)

Supernatural:

Dean:

Bear Bottles and Gun Shots

Beach Trip

Promise?

You’re My Dream

Chocolate Kisses

Game Over

Nothing To Write Home About (%) (!)

Sam:

5 Seconds Of Sam (%)

Mad At Nothing (!)

Sleep, Love

Castiel:

Learning

Let’s Just Pretend

Other

Midday Naps (%) (Kellin Quinn Imagine)

Emo? Emo. (%) (Dan Howell Imagine)

Young Love As Sweet As Can Be (%) (Dan x Reader x Phil)

More Than You Bargained For (Dan x Reader x Phil)

Zero To Hero (Tyler Oakley Imagine)

Magic In The Midnight Sun (Brandon Flowers Imagine)

You Stole My Head (Dallon Weekes Imagine)

#masterlist #fall out boy imagine #mcr imagine #my chemical romance #panic! at the disco imagine #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #fob imagine #p!atd imagine #gerard way imagine #frank iero imagine #mikey way imagine #ray toro imagine #patrick stump imagine #pete wentz imagine #ryan ross imagine #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel imagine #youtuber imagine #dan howell imagine