#and I have party poisons jacket and their mask I made

[arthursfuckinghat]

Having more than one fixation is so fun like do I want to dress like a cowboy today? A detective? A pop punk freedom fighter? The choices..

[tacticalspider]

drugs, gimme drugs, gimme druuugs ;)

image descriptions under the cut - too long for alt

[Image number 1 shows a redraw of the poster for the DC movie Birds of Prey, in which the characters are all replaced by members of the Killjoys from My Chemical Romance's fourth album.

In the center, taking up most of the picture is Party Poison, dressed in part as Harley Quinn. They have pale skin and bright red hair, which is styled in two small space buns on the top of their head with several strands hanging down around their face. They have a bright yellow mask across the top half of their face, which has dark diamond shapes across the eye holes and a blue gem on either end of the mask, as well as one on the forehead portion. Just below the bottom edge of the mask, we can see a small heart on their left cheek. The beginning letters of "PARTY" are written on their neck, dissappearing into the collar of their jacket, which is a dark blue-purple, with white stripes around the chest and red, white, and blue stripes on the arms, along with a small red and white patch on the left breast, the details of which aren't visible. Party's jean shorts are dark blue with black stripes going up and down the center part and red stars on the sides. There are several tattoos on their thighs, including a row of black and red diamonds, Party Poison's symbol of a pill with an X below it, a heart, and the words "poison + ghoul," all of which are upside-down, indicating that party did them themself while looking down at their own legs. In their right hand, Party holds a bright yellow gun by the muzzle and is propping it up on their shoulder.

In their left hand hand is a chain, connecting to the neck of Bob Briar, MCR's drummer, who is taking the place of Harley's pet hyena. He has red hair swept over one eye in the iconic emo bangs, the beginnings of a red mustache and beard, messy black eyeliner, a cursive necklace that says "Hyena," a black t-shirt, and blue jeans. He is on his hands and knees. Behind him is The Girl, taking the place of Cassandra Cain. She is a child with medium-brown skin and curly brown hair. She's wearing a black helmet with a small red stop sign on the front, red flowery sleeves and a black top underneath a blue collared vest with red and yellow cap sleeves. The Girl also has a funky red and blue layered belt made of a bunch of little circles over black pants and boots. She's got one arm pulled to her chest and the other is punching outwards towards the viewer. To her right and on the far left side of the page is Fun Ghoul, taking the place of Reneé Montoya. He's got light skin, short black hair with one buzzed side dyed red, though it kind of looks like blood o be honest, and tattoos on his hands. He's wearing a long-sleeved yellow shirt with a patch on the left shoulder under a dull green cargo vest. He's got a bright green ray gun in a brown holster which is slung across his body like a messenger bag, grey-green pants, and dark brown shoes. He looks sort of angry, has bent knees, and is holding his hands to his chest, like he's about to bare-knuckle box with someone. Very small and flying above the Girl's head is the Kobra Kid, taking the place of Huntress, aka Helena Bertinelli. He's got a red jacket over a yellow shirt with black squiggles on it and grey pants. Also, I thought it would be funny to make him look like Mikey from around 2004, so he's got loose brown hair and rectangular nerd glasses. His left arm is up and bent in half, while his right arm is extend and is aiming a red ray gun at something off of the page.

Finally, on Party's left and the far right of the page is Jet Star, taking the place of the Black Canary, aka Dinah Lance. He's got a curly brown afro, medium brown skin and a determined expression on his face. He's wearing a black jacket with the edges of an American flag on the back, though I appear to have forgotten which direction it's supposed to go in when I was drawing it, and dark grey pants with black shoes. Both hands are wrapped around the handle of a dark blue ray gun, which is being pointed at something off of the page. Above his head in blue pen, is written "can they keep The Girl safe?" and below his feet "tactical spider" is written as a signature. Along the bottom of the page, DANGER DAYS is written in large, light pink block letters. The letters are stylized in the same rounded way as those on the Birds of Prey poster and, instead of having holes where it is normal to have holes in letters, there are a variety of symbols on the letters, including the black Danger Days spider, Fun Ghoul's green ghoul face symbol, the letters P J F K, Kobra's red snake face symbol, Party's pill symbol., and Jet's blue star symbol. In smaller blue block letters, MCR is written above the letters. Below, in black letters, it reads "THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS" with way too many lines on the E's, little sparkle diamond symbols on either side, a heart over one of the I's and an extra long tail on the final S. Behind the characters are colorful fireworks and at the very top, the names of all the real life people are listed: Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Ray Toro, Frank Iero, Grace Jeanette, and Bob Briar. This was drawn on white paper. End ID]

[Image number 2 is just the regular Birds of Prey poster, not redrawn or anything. It's there as visual reference for sighted folks and if you used the first image description, then you've already got all of the necessary information. All of the normal Birds of Prey characters are spread out in the same formation - the only difference is that things are professionally photographed and edited, instead of being hand-drawn by a nineteen year old. End ID]

[anystalker707]

On the same side (1/2)

Pairing: Party Poison x [gender neutral] Reader Word count: ~ 1 750 Genre: Comfort Summary: Only a small mistake was enough to have you, a famous scarecrow, in the hands of the most famous killjoy group.

Requested by anon "so my request would be a Party Poison x male reader in which the reader works for BL/ind and is currently on a mission (dressed as a Scarecrow)(...)"

MASTERLIST

          That was just great. Poison had, for the first time, actually listened to Jet and Kobra, and they caught the damn Scarecrow that had been after them. None of the Scarecrow’s subordinates—just some useless Dracs—were left alive, so they didn’t think there would be any problem soon.

The way Poison wrapped their arm around the Scarecrow’s neck so tightly made them pass out, hence their only real trouble was getting it in the car and then out of it, finding a strong chair to tie them down to. Maybe the Scarecrow could be useful. The Fabulous Four had some questions that they would enjoy having answered, not to mention that, if they were lucky enough, BLI would be willing to do something significant to have that Scarecrow in their hands again.

          Your head hurt as you slowly came back to consciousness. That place smelled... bad. It was nothing like the halls of the headquarters that always had citric notes and spotless floors, unlike whatever you looked at right now. The ground looked somewhat gross, and the shoes that stood there just a few feet away from yours were far from being clean. Where were you even?

A groan escaped your lips with curses as you tried to lift your head, slowly blinking as the colorful blurs turned into people and the restraints that limited your movements became more evident. Shit. Were those killjoys?

“Scum,” was the first thing you muttered, immediately prompting sounds of reproval to come from the said killjoys.

They didn’t seem very happy either. One of them, specifically, had their arms crossed and approached you with judging eyes through the eye holes of their mask. That red hair, though—you didn’t need to think a lot before recognizing who they were, and who that group was. Out of all the people who could’ve captured you, of course, it would be the Fabulous Four. No other killjoy group was that strong, or at least tactical.

“Well, well, well,” Party Poison chuckled, “look at who we have here... I thought you were better than that, (y/n).”

“You only caught me because of a mistake,” you mumbled, breathing deeply in an attempt to get rid of the sharp pain piercing your skull. “Don’t think it’s something great because I—”

“You better start spilling everything you know.” Party’s voice was low, breath fanning over your face as he held you by the collar to pull you closer. Okay, then.

“—Because I’d rather die than tell something to pieces of trash like you.”

One of them hissed a little with the response as if it had caused him physical pain, and despite not wearing his traditional red jacket, that bleached hair was clearly Kobra’s. He gave you that lousy grin, uncrossing his arms as he stepped closer. He had a wrench tool, patting it against the palm of the hand that didn’t hold it.

“Well, I wish you actually listen to us,” Kobra said, “because we would hate having blood on the ground we just cleaned today.”

Oh, so they’re playing good guy and bad guy?

“Cleaned today?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking around with a scoff. White equipment—your equipment—sat on the table, including the gun and radio. That small guy was munching on one of the cereal bars that you had in your pocket, the Ghoul one. “Someone better teach you how to do it, then. This looks way worse than the lost streets of Bat City.” The scowl on their faces made a grin appear on your face, remaining there despite the tight grip on your shoulder and how close Poison leaned in.

“You aren’t in your territory, you’re in ours,” Party said, their voice, quiet with that fake calmness. “I would be very afraid if I were you because you’re damn hopeless here.”

You chuckled. “And what? I’d rather die than tell you anything, you know that, right? I’m better than any of you! Desert scum! I don’t care what happens to me! Do you think I’d betray the Industries? I would never—” Your rant turned into muffled sounds as a cloth was wrapped around your head and slipped between your teeth to shut you up.

“If dying is what you want,” the one who had gagged you said, stepping in front of you. Damn Jet. “...Then we’re keeping you alive.”

          It had been a whole week. You were allowed to go to the bathroom and eat, but going outside that place—apparently a diner—was something that didn’t happen. They never left all four at once, so there always was someone to keep an eye on you even if you were just chained to some exposed pipe or to the refrigerator.

Being out of your routine was uncomfortable. No showers, no human food, no meds... The lack of the meds you took in the morning surprisingly didn’t give you the headaches that BLI warned it would, so it was weird, but there wasn’t much to think about. You had already accepted death would come, and it was honestly better than going back to the boring routine you had with BLI. As much as being a Scarecrow was something admired by many, the routine could be quite tiring, even more with all the procedures that BLI was always making you go through. Having a break from them was good, at last.

“Mx. Scarecrow,” Party Poison walked into the main room, where you’d been handcuffed to the refrigerator for the day while the other three were away. They were the one who mainly bothered talking with you. Something probably due to how they believed none of the others would do a job as good as them, from what you’d heard while they argued. “Good day? You barely asked for any food today!”

“I’ll be lucky if I starve to death,” you yawned, leaning back against the wall and trying to make yourself comfortable against the wall. Poison raised an eyebrow and shrugged, sitting next to you anyways. You looked at him with a sigh, observing it as he worked on fixing a radio. “Why do you even bother?”

Party paused and looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Fixing a radio. You can just buy a new one in the city.” You scoff.

Party rolled their eyes, shaking their head. Their face was far more delicate than you’d think it was under that mask, despite the scars and sunburns. “I wouldn’t be able to find one that nice.” They motioned to the colorful outside that seemed handpainted. “And why would I bother if it’s just a small thing that is broken?”

“Silly thing,” you mumbled with a sigh, shaking your head. “You could live a lot better inside the city.”

“Living here in these conditions is better than living trapped,” Party mumbled through gritted teeth as they continued messing with the radio.

“Why are you a killjoy? Why are you always risking your life, doing your best like this?” You raised an eyebrow. What could possibly go through the mind of someone like that? The desert’s life was far from your reality. You’d never spent so long in the desert before, only having been there for missions to eliminate those damn rebels.

Poison blinked and stopped as they looked over at you. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not only fighting for my life but also fighting to give everyone out here hope for a better future. People believe in the Fabulous Four.” They sighed and observed you for a moment. “What made them choose you to be a Scarecrow? Are you a droid or something?” Party had about your knowledge about another life. Being born and raised in the desert, not knowing what was going on inside the city firsthand.

You scoffed at their question. “Choose me? I fought hard for that!” You shook your head. “I was just some recruit, but now... Now I am a great Scarecrow, and I am proud of it.”

“Why would you fight hard for something like that? Just to kill people who want freedom,” Party scoffed, looking away.

You raised your eyebrows. “Don’t underestimate it. I am also fighting for freedom. I am actually thankful you didn’t return me to BLI. I would rather die than have my memory wiped away. Turned into a droid or something of the sort.” You looked at the ground. “I already saw many of my friends being turned into droids or being reset by the Industries. I don’t think that’s living, as much as that’s just the Industry’s normal procedure whenever you commit a mistake... Hell, I don’t even know if I’ve been reset once! The thing is, I believed that maybe if I worked hard enough, I would be able to get to a high rank and change that, but...” A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the wall again. “I’m not perfect, obviously. All that hard work...”

Party was frozen, observing you with such wide eyes.

“What’s it, fire-head?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you for real?”

“Why would I lie?” You rolled your eyes. “I mean, I have no reasons to lie. I already said I’d rather die than anything. If you hand me back to the BLI just because I told you that—”

“We aren’t that bad,” Poison cut you off immediately. “That’s the whole point. We are not the bad guys. Can’t you see? Maybe we have the same objectives, but it’s placed in different backgrounds.”

“No.” You scoffed. “You guys just want to ruin the city and turn everything into a mess. Me and the others, however? We want to improve the city. Freedom to slide away from those damn standards BLI pushes into us.”

Poison’s lips curled into a small smirk. “I think you just don’t know us good enough. We’re fighting for freedom, to get a good life without BLI’s dictatorship. Do you understand? We’re fighting for our lives. We wouldn’t be here in the desert by choice.”

You were too tired to argue, or at least try to. You’d been there for a long time already, and maybe all of those were starting to make sense, as much as you didn’t want to believe that. You had to repeat and believe so much into the killjoy being on the wrong side of the story that maybe you had actually started just believing into it without questioning anything because, after all, you needed to go up in ranks.

“Maybe,” you whispered, “just maybe, we’re all fighting for the same thing.”

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

part two

[lucero-is-here]

DRIVES OVER IN A CAR WEARING A FACE MASK, WITH FRANK, JONES AND NATHAN IN THE CAR

ALL ABOARD! LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND FOLKS! I AM YOUR HOST WHO IS NOW SICK, LUCERO MOONE! AND WE HAVE NATHAN PANDIT!

So kindly requested by:

LET’S GET TO THIS SILLY MAN! WHOOHOO!

- he’s best friends with Grace. They are always discussing the most gruesome things they see, and they are always having little tea parties.

- bisexual.

- loves snakes so so much-

- HE LIKES KIDS A LOT- HE WANTED TO BE A DAD SO BADLY-

- he has pet fish. After he got that one fish that could kill people in that one case, he began obsessing over fish and now has a pet angel fish he named: MK

- He obsesses over gruesome and gory subjects for some reason. He finds them so intriguing and loves everything about them.

- he has absolutely amazing spice tolerance. He can eat so much spicy it is amazing.

- he likes nature. Goes on nature walks every Sunday

- weapon of choice is a frying pan.

- he doesn’t know how to download videos in his phone. He just- He just can’t for some reason. And it’s funny.

- he can do a handstand, and hold it for like 1 minute if he tried hard enough.

- really bad stamina- he can’t run for too long, or do anything for too long, or he’s going to be panting and gasping for air.

- he likes flowers a lot. He thinks they are absolutely beautiful and loves everything about them. Especially poisonous ones. Those are usually the most beautiful.

- he likes the colour pink. He wears a pink t-shirt to work every Wednesday.

- he hit someone with a chair. They were just being a horrible person, so he hit them with a chair.

- Nathan doesn’t get pronouns all the time. He just goes: Well (person) likes going by (insert whatever pronouns you like)…and if (person) is happy, why not?

- he likes eggs…And hot sauce. Eggs on toast with cheese and an insane amount of hot sauce-

- he wears a lab coat or a white jacket everywhere. He thinks they look amazing, and love the look they give him. He feels like a mad scientist sometimes.

- he had this science kit as a kid, and he loved it so so much he still has it to this day before he died at least

- tried doing ballet once. Fell down.

- he can talk so fast it’s remarkable- they made him speak a tongue twister once and he did really well-

OKAY NOW THAT IS ALL- YES I AM ACTUALLY SICK- AND YES I WILL MAKE A PART 2 IF I THINK OF MOREEEEEEEEEEEE

[milimeters-morales]

i just had a dream where there was a mechanical magical shark that kept eating people so it was up to Spider-Man (Peter, i was controlling) to destroy it somehow but MJ finished the job because the shark took his leg (another hc i have) and he couldn’t fight for a long time, and then the dream did a timeskip of 8 years later, where it was giving me a tour? kind of i was the camera and just a random person also walking around on last day of a huge school i went to (it was the layout of my old kindergarten to 5th grade school but sized up and changed a little) and there were TONS of spider-people there but only 4 miles’s (each with wildly different lives despite being around the same age and wildly different personalities) and also cosplayers (and the bayverse ninja turtles for some reason?) and there were a bunch of parties so i kept running into this one pair of girls and they thought i was following them so started arguing a WHOOLEEE bunch i was genuinely getting so angry and then we started to physically fight and i don’t remember how that ended. but then my old friend who i don’t talk to anymore came up and mediated afterwards. but i was also in the spider-man suit i give Miles with the little heel and skirt, and i was missing the jacket and mask so i spent like an hour looking for it!! it took forever and there was a countdown so i only ended up finding the jacket and made plans to buy a new mask instead. at this point i actually WAS Miles, and i ran out the school and into a grocery store i’ve only ever went to twice because i got food poisoning from the apple tuna sandwiches and a very pretty woman and guy led me out of there bc i got lost ^_^ they were actually old cookie run ocs lol

[cityan1mal]

I'm going to a con tmmr. Just finished my mask. I'm going to be Party Poison and the mask is going to be glued to my face (using eyelash glue) It's like I think the biggest con I've ever been to. Like. Johnny Yong Bosch and Tara Strong and like Half the cast of Chainsaw man are there. like the ppl from Bluey are there. I hope someone will recognize me cus the face is the only canon thing here.

I should have done Milgram cus I have a black leather jacket buuuut people will confuse the two regardless. I also already made a buncha killjoy themed accessories

[justmanic03]

Amethyst - Chapter Thirty-Three (Clyde's Story)

(Probably my longest chapter yet!)

My heart was pounding at a million beats an hour and my body was shaking as I frantically pulled my Rotom phone out of my jacket pocket, unlocked it, and began bashing my fingers against the keypad to text the Gym Challenger's Group Chat.

Y/N: Guys... I have some bad news.

Danny: Don't tell me you lost to the rock lady. Slowpoke 😝

Lisa: Shut up Danny 🤬

Mackenzie: What's going on, Y/N?

Y/N: It's Harp Girl. I found out who she really is. It was Flossi all along!

Danny: No way! I don't believe you. Champion Flossi was one of the sweetest people to have ever existed!

Lisa: You're telling us that the Champion of all people has been corrupting Pokemon to try and destroy the League?

Mackenzie: Now that you mention it, that explains why she always wore a mask everywhere she went. It was a disguise.

Y/N: She's plotting something really sinister. I saw her just outside the League just before I went in. She's around here somewhere.

Lisa: Don't panic Y/N. I just texted Crystal. She's onto it.

Mackenzie: Was she doing anything suspicious?

Y/N: No, she was just being her usual, obnoxious self. Mocking the Elite Four and the Gym Challenge. But I did show her the psychic badge, and she got really angry.

Before I got chance to read the next message, my Rotom phone began buzzing. I immediately clicked the answer button when I realised it was Buzz.

"Hey Y/N. Good little detective work out there. Seems like we've pinned the culprit." He said.

"Yeah well it's not over yet. We've got to catch her. What if she does something dangerous, like tries to attack the building?!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. My body still hadn't stopped shaking and my heart was still pounding as I feared for my life. "What if she sends that big Epsilon monster after me?!"

"Y/N, I know it's a lot to ask, but please try to calm down. Crystal is aware of the situation and has deployed a bunch of guards outside the League." Buzz attempted to console me. "CCTV is in operation. You're safe. No harm can come to you. You're in one of the safest buildings in Taldourse."

"So what can I do?" I queried.

"Just continue what you're doing. Go into the Fairy Suite, Clyde is in there waiting for you. Crystal said she wants everything to continue as planned."

"But what if Flossi tries to hurt someone in the meantime?"

"Lisa, Danny, Mackenzie and I are going to take a flying taxi up to Opaquia to see if we can locate where she's based. You can join up with us later. In the meantime, go and load up your party with as many poison and steel units as you can. Clyde's fairies are no joke."

****

"Y/N! Good to see you again, even if the circumstances are a little hairy-fairy," Clyde chuckled, waving jazz hands.

"I'm surprised you're still in the mood for puns, what with all this serious stuff going on," I smiled, as I stepped into the infamous Fairy Suite. The walls were decorated with fluffy pink feathers, and the ceiling was entirely covered in glitter.

"Where would we be if we couldn't make the best out of a bad situation, hmm?" Clyde retorted, tossing his luxury Pokeball up and down. "Oh and by the way, if you get hungry mid battle, there's a candy floss machine just over there," He pointed further down the hall close to where a fire extinguisher was located. "You know, there was one upon a time where even Flossi used to appreciate my puns."

"How do you feel now, Clyde, knowing that she's been here all along?" I enquired.

"Like I'm the one that's been the butt of the joke the whole time," he sighed. "Anyhoo, I do believe some fairy magic is in order!" He rubbed his hands together vigorously after changing the subject.

"Yeah, good idea." I nodded my head. Before entering, I had made sure that Lily had learned TM Poison Jab and TM Poison Powder in readiness for taking on Clyde. I had also switched out Medicham for a Magneton that Danny had gifted to me.

****

You are challenged by Clyde of the Elite Four!

Clyde sent out Wigglytuff!

Go! Lily! I know you can do it!

Wigglytuff used Sing!

Lily grew drowsy!

Lily used Poison Jab!

Despite landing a supereffective hit, it did not sap much of Wigglytuff's HP. I groaned a little as Lily's eyes fluttered closed and she fell asleep. Clyde only chuckled triumphantly. "Hey, let her get her beauty sleep!" I began scrambling around in my pocket, searching for an awakening. To my chagrin, I had none, so I just decided to give her a full heal.

Lily woke up!

Wigglytuff used Hyper Voice!

Lily moved in time via your shout!

I smiled as the heart appeared over my Pokémon's head.

Lily used Titanium Glade!

Although Titanium Glade was only moderately effective against the opposing fairy, I was able to substantially lower Clyde's speed.

"Nice moves, kiddo. Who needs wands when you can create your own custom moves?"

I smirked confidently. This was one of my most impressive qualities as a Pokemon trainer.

Wigglytuff used Hyper Voice!

A critical hit!

~ Fast forward ~

Clyde was proving to be a troublesome menace, throwing in a dad joke every time his Pokemon managed to deal damage. It took Lily substantially longer to topple his Wigglytuff than it had all my previous battles, yet regardless, she did it.

"That little Gladimax of yours is giving me a run for my money!" Clyde joked as he proceeded to twirl around and prepare his next Pokeball.

Clyde sent out Sylveon!

Lily was taken down by Clyde's Sylveon rather quickly, and I decided that Stalagus was next in line.

"Oh wow, the battle of the Eeveelutions!" Clyde marvelled. "Always my favourite kinds of battles!"

Sylveon used Dazzling Gleam!

I began to regret my decision rather quickly as this sharp attack once again reminded me of how weak ice types were defensively speaking. However, the tides were back in my favour as Stalagus managed to land a critical hit using Icy Wind.

Sylveon was frozen solid!

"Well I suppose it's better than a burn," Clyde scratched his head.

Sylveon thawed out!

Stalagus used Ice Beam!

Sylveon fainted!

Clyde's eyes widened in horror. "Did that just happen?!" To which I just nodded mischievously. "You won't tell Crystal about that, will you?"

"I won't need to. There's cameras everywhere!" I teased.

~ Fast forward ~

"Time to extrapolate this fairy power!" Clyde clutched his ionisation chip, as I retrieved my own, and both Pokeballs projected themselves vertically in unison, as the entire suite lit up.

"Should've invested in those fancy sunglasses from Pollux," Clyde commented.

His newly ionised fairy giant was something I'd never set eyes on before. It was called Zerculon, and was a deep violet colour. Although it possessed a long dragon-like tail, it had an odd fluffy-pink mane growing at its neck.

"I'm sorry but what is this?" I pointed at the Pokemon.

"It's a Zerculon, my friend! Found it in a cave when I went legendary hunting with Kossi a few years back."

"Oh... I've never seen one before," I said nervously, upon realising that the ionised Zerculon towered over my ionised Magnezone.

This was it. Our final Pokemon. It all came down to the next moves I made.

Magnezone used Electric Wave!

Zerculon was paralysed!

Zerculon used Moonblast!

This move proved a devastating blow against the spaceship Pokemon, reducing his HP bar into the yellow zone. I mentally cursed at myself for not opting for a steel move. I was fairly confident I could've one-shotted him.

~ Another Time Skip ~

CRASH!!!!!!

"Oh wow!!!! Someone blew up the circus!!!!" Clyde chuckled as the ionisation energy spurted out of the Pokeballs of the fainted Zerculon and victorious Magnezone.

"W-well, you did it!" Clyde broke out into a huge grin, and proceeded to tip his hat.

You defeated Clyde of the Elite Four!

****

"You sure made a circus outta me, my friend!" He commented, patting me a little too roughly on the back.

"Ouch! Steady on, Fairy Master!" I chuckled.

"You're the real master here, Y/N. I'd love to say Flossi doesn't stand a chance against you, but I'm not so sure about that." He shrugged his shoulders doubtfully.

"Did you know her back in the days she went by Freya? In Team Moon?" I queried.

Clyde nodded his head slowly. "Yeah. We go back. She was a completely different person before she met Kossi. And it seems like she's become a completely different person after his passing too."

"If she changed her name to get away from Team Moon, why do you think she reverted back to her original name after Kossi died?" I questioned.

"She changed her name to Flossi simply because it sounded like her husband's name. She built her entire new identity around him. I always thought that was a little odd, but I couldn't begin to understand why she's doing such terrible things now. Although, I must say, I do understand where a lot of her pain comes from."

"You came from Team Moon too," I said, to which he nodded.

"I was just nothing more than a practical joke back then..."

~ Flashback (Clyde's POV)

"Let's pin the tail on the village idiot!" A young boy smirked as he clutched his Scream Tail ready to throw at me, as I stood there, a laughing stock in front of all the Team Moon youngsters, on the stage that I had been instructed to stand on.

"No I've got a better idea! Let's get a bucket of Pokemon droppings and throw them at him!" Another youngster piped up. I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was that I had to provide the other kids with some "entertainment" whilst the grown ups did their cult duties. I had no idea that this translated into public humiliation.

"Look at him!" Another girl jeered as she pointed at me. "He's got pink hair like all the other fairy dweebs of the Galactic Division! He looks like a Jigglypuff!"

"Nah, he's more like an Igglybuff. He's weak and useless when it comes to actual battles," one of the guards joined in.

Great, I thought. Now that the adults were in on this charade, I realised that I only had myself. That was, until an unfamiliar female voice spoke up from within the crowd of gawkers. "What the hell is going on here?!"

I immediately recognised the teenage girl as Crystal, one of the daughters of someone in one of the higher ranks of Team Moon. She was fierce, and no kid ever messed with her.

"We're just having some fun with Clyde..." One boy spoke up sheepishly. Crystal crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. There was no fooling her. She pondered for a second and then spoke up, "Look, why don't you kids go battle in the courts or something? I've got stuff to take care of over here."

The group looked one another up and down for a few moments before dispersing, leaving only Crystal and I. "What a bunch of clowns." She said.

"I think I'm the only clown here," I responded, still reeling from the public humiliation.

"Don't pay any attention to them," She said, stepping up on the stage to face me directly. "They'll eventually get bored of you and move on to a new target. Take it from me," She placed a hand atop my shoulder.

"How do you know it'll just blow over?" I queried.

"Because it happened to me, too," Crystal responded. "Why don't you stick with me? They won't pick on you so much."

I nodded. She felt like a breath of fresh air, so different from everyone else in the cult I was living in. I explained to her how my parents had written me off as being useless in battle, and in machinery. None of the other kids took me seriously, they had always given me a hard time over my pink hair and affinity with fairy-types. To my surprise, she did not interrupt me once, nor did she question my actions, or try to judge me. Instead, she just knitted her eyebrows and listened intently to everything I had to say.

"I wish we could just find a way out of here," I expressed.

"We will. We just need to bide our time." Crystal responded.

~ End of flashback, your POV ~

"What about your pink hair? How did you get it?" I asked.

Clyde only chuckled. "It all started as part of a prank. The kids at Team Moon put bright pink hair dye in my shampoo bottle. I hated it at first, it gave them yet another reason to pick on me, but the other three... they persuaded me that it suited me, and that it could be my 'look'. It took a while but... I decided I could make it work!" By the time he had finished speaking, a proud grin flashed on his face. I couldn't help but smile too at the confidence he had gained simply from this small change.

"Yep. It's definitely a look," I smiled. "You are the Fairy Master, after all!"

"Haha thanks, Y/N. I've been really losing a lot of hope lately, what with everything going on with Flossi. But today, you've given me something to laugh about, even if you did completely toast me in battle."

"No problem, Clyde. I sure hope Crystal's ready for me," I smiled confidently before making my way to the door that separated the Fairy Suite from the Dark Suite.

"No matter how tough life gets, laughter should never stop for anyone."

[mcbirdface]

I know it's been a hot minute since you posted this, but I went a little overboard. Here is a broad overview of literally everything that happens in the comics and the music videos as well as character overviews and popular headcanons/fanon. Beware, major spoilers for the comics and music videos ahead!

Setting- Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys takes place in a nonspecific desert in southern California, presumably the Mojave desert, though there (to my knowledge) has been no real statement placing exactly which desert Danger Days is set in. An (at the time) future post/apocalypse in a place known as ‘The Zones’ The Zones are a stretch of many miles of desert surrounding a large metropolis known as Battery City. The Zones are separated into seven different areas, Zones One through Seven. The Zones have layers like an onion where Zone One is closest to the city and Zone Seven is the furthest away, though only the inner six Zones are habitable as Better Living blew up Zone Seven with a nuke known to The Zones as a Pig Bomb during the Analog Wars.

Characters-

Fabulous Killjoys- Four Killjoys who are well-known terrorists of Battery City. They are pretty much public enemies numbers one, two, three, and four, in no particular order. They have a passion for fucking up whatever shit that Better Living has planned, and they’re damn good at it too. They were the primary caretakers of The Girl until their collective deaths in 2019 during a raid on Batter Living to retrieve her from the City.

Party Poison- Leader of the Fabulous Killjoys, portrayed by Gerard Way in the music videos made for the album. Party Poison has bright red hair, a blue leather jacket that bears the logo ‘Dead Pegasus’ and is portrayed both with a yellow domino mask and an animal head that is made to be a copy of Battery City’s toy mascot, MouseKat. Within the Danger Days fandom, Party Poison is almost exclusively referred to with they/them pronouns, though you’ll always find a fic or two where they use other pronouns. They are commonly shipped with Fun Ghoul, though I speculate that this is mainly because of the shipping of their actors within the larger community of the My Chemical Romance fandom. Many Danger Days fans belive that they are related to the Kobra Kid due to their actor’s brother, Mikey Way, portraying Kobra Kid. Party Poison ran with the Fabulous Killjoys until their death in 2019, as seen in the SING music video. 

Fun Ghoul- A member of the Fabulous Killjoys, portrayed by Frank Iero in the music videos made for the album and known for his expertise with handmade explosive devices. Fun Ghoul wears an army green vest over a black and yellow striped tee-shirt and wears a purple and green plastic mask. He also has a prominent scar on the right side of his face that extends from the edge of his mouth and tilts downward. Fun Ghoul is mainly referred to with he/him pronouns, though you will also commonly see it/xe pronouns used to describe him. He is mainly shipped with Party Poison, though I speculate that this is mainly because of the shipping of their actors within the larger community of the My Chemical Romance fandom. A popular headcanon within the Danger Days community is that Fun Ghoul is D/deaf or Hard of Hearing, probably because of his constant exposure to large explosive devices and the lack of any kind of hearing-protective measures*. Fun Ghoul ran with the Fabulous Killjoys until his death in 2019, as seen in the SING music video. 

Jet Star- A member of the Fabulous Killjoys, portrayed by Ray Toro in the music videos made for the album. Jet Star is known to be an impeccable shot and is popularly headcanoned to be a sandpup or a person who was born and raised in the desert. Something notable about his character is the eyepatch that he wears in the SING music video as it does not appear in the Na Na Na music video, and fans commonly speculate that something happened during the clap at the end of Na Na Na which caused him to lose his sight. Jet Star is referred to primarily with He/him pronouns, though there are several fics that play around with his gender, specifically gender-fluid or transfem. Jet Star ran with the Fabulous Killjoys until their death in 2019, as seen in the SING music video. 

Kobra Kid- A member of the Fabulous Killjoys, portrayed by Mikey Way in the music videos made for the album. Kobra Kid has multiple specialties. He is seen hacking a vending machine in the Na Na Na music video as well as using a kind of device on his hand that is able to incapacate his enemies. Fans call this his Power Glove. Kobra is also seen with a motorcycle and reading a Murder magazine. Popular headcanons surrounding Kobra are that he is semi-verbal, autistic, and occasionally tourettic. Kobra Kid ran with the Fabulous Killjoys until his death in 2019, as seen in the SING music video. 

Doc’s Crew-

Doctor Death-Defying- Dr. Death-Defying, Doc, D, Dr. Death, Dr. D, Death-Defying, Death, and pretty much any other combination of his name is a DJ in the Zones. He runs the radio station WIKL 109 and is well-known for being a reliable news source and for playing a lot of pre-war music. He is a close personal associate of the Fabulous Killjoys. The Doctor is in a wheelchair and lost the use of his legs during the wars. He lived past the fabulous Killjoys and into the sequel comic, where he was shot by Val Velocity. Dr. D is portrayed by Steve Righ

Show Pony- Show Pony is a pretty small part of Danger Days in both the comics and the music videos. They are only featured for a combined few seconds and are recognized by their rollerskates, polka dot tights, and helmets. They roll with Dr. D and are typically considered his right-hand person during the music videos. Pony is typically portrayed with They/them pronouns, though occasionally, they will be seen with neopronouns. Show Pony is absent in the comics, which leads many to believe that they have died in the span of time between the videos and the comics. They are played by Ricky Rebel.

Cherri Cola- Cherri Cola is not featured in the Danger Days music videos, though he is shown in the comics to live with Dr. D and help him get around. Cola is a former wavehead and is very, very good with a gun, though he is a pacifist and doesn’t enjoy fighting. When he is asked to teach The Girl to fight, he claims that it goes against his morals. He is said to be an even better shot than the Killjoys, and he had been asked to go with them to storm Better Living, though he declined due to his intent not to injure or kill. His mask is neon pink, along with his gun, and he wears a set of dog tags around his neck. He has brown hair that has a greyish-white stripe in it. Cherri Cola dies in a firefight towards the middle of the comic.

DJ Hot Chimp- Hot Chimp is a part of Doc’s radio crew and is seen for about three seconds in the SING music video, though she is portrayed in the Twitterverse by The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, California co-author Shawn Simon. She is portrayed by Grant Morrison’s wife.

Korse- Korse is an exterminator at Betterliving, one that had been specifically assigned to the case of the Fabulous Killjoys. Grant Morrison portrays him as wearing a frilly, gray coat and is bald. He kills Party Poison by shooting them in the head from under their chin. Twelve years later, in the comic, Korse finds love with an unnamed man whom Better Living disposes of because Korse isn’t allowed to feel emotions like love. Korse turns on BL/ind and, with the help of The Girl and DESTROYA, kills the Director.

NewsAGoGo- NewsAGoGo was never shown or written in the comics, though she did make an appearance on Twitter (now X)

The Girl- The Girl is the main character of The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, California comics, and is in charge of the Fabulous Killjoys until their death in 2019. The Girl is said to have the power to destroy Battery City, hence why Better Living wants her under their control so badly. In the comics, she is shown to have a cat who travels with her wherever she goes. 

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S/- Specially trained Better Living supersoldiers. They remain in Stasis when not being used.

Dracs/Draculoids- Mindless Better Living soldiers. They are people who have been caught doing something wrong and are offered a choice, as shown in the comic, to die or be masked. The mask works to distort reality to show a person’s fears, causing the Drac to react out of pure instinct to kill whoever is trying to ‘attack’ them, even though that might not be what is actually happening.

The Director- The Director is a complex character. In the music videos, she is shown to be a prim and proper woman in a suit and skirt. However, in the comics, she is shown to be in spandex. When Korse fights her, he finds himself confronting multiple versions of her, and he seems outnumbered until The Girl and Destroya take out the power systems and Korse finds the Director to simply be a shriveled old woman who begs him to kill her, though he refuses.

The Girl’s Mother- The Girl’s mother fought with Dr. D in the Wars, though she was masked (forced to become a drac) while pregnant with The Girl. She gave birth to The Girl while being a Drac, who is assumed to have given The Girl her powers. Once all the Draculoids are free at the end of the comic, she finds The Girl, though with no recollection of anything, and they are implied to travel the desert together.

The Phoenix Witch- The Phoenix Witch, or as she is commonly referred to, the witch, is a deity in the zones and a canonical Goddess as she appears to the Girl midway through the comic to tell her her fate. The Witch is a tall figure covered in black feathers, and her arms and legs are heavily bandaged. She floats just barely off the ground, and she has a white mask. She goes from mailbox to mailbox, collecting the souls of dead Killjoys and transporting them in her shopping cart to the afterlife.

Destroya- Destroya is the god that the ‘Droids in the city believe in. They say that one-day Destroya, who is a robot that lies in the sands of the Zones, will rise and free them from Better Living. Destroys is huge and bronze and eventually assists the girl in destroying Better Living.

Red- An outdated unit of Pornodroid that is chipping and cracked and unable to keep a charge. She lived with Blue, and eventually, the two attempted to escape the city together, although Red was unable to make it. She has red hair.

Blue- A unit of porno-droid who works the streets of the Lobby attempting to make ends meet for her and her [relationship not specified, but I assume to be lover or friend]. Eventually, the two leave the city together, though only Blue makes it out to the desert, where she finds Destroya and commands him to ‘free them all’ referring to the droids of Battery City.

The Girl’s Cat-  Actually a camera to spy on The Girl and keep her as far away from Bat City as possible.

Tommy Chow Mein- A savvy businessman who markets his wares to Killjoys through all the Zones. He is known to be cranky and stingy. He is in the comics only.

The Ultra Vs- Led by Val Velocity (boo), the Ultra Vs are pretty much the Anti-killjoys. Their crew consists of Val Velocity, Vaya, Vamos, Volume, Vinyl, and a sixth, unnamed character. The Vs meet up with the Girl in the comics and are the side characters.

Val Velocity- Val Velocity appears only in the Fabulous Killjoys comics, where he runs with The Girl and his crew, the Ultra Vs. Val is originally shown with white hair, but after the death of his crewmate, Volume, he dies his hair red, saying, “I’m gonna show everyone how things should be done, and they’ll forget Poison even existed. When they see red they’ll think of Val Velocity. I’m taking his color.” his paranoia also increases tenfold after Better Living destroys his hideout and kills Volume. About midway through the book, Val kills Doctor Death-Defying, claiming that Doc was a Better Living spy. Val continues to be a bitch and cause problems until the very end of the comic, when he realizes he was wrong and gives the Girl Poison’s mask back.

Vaya- Popularly seen with Vamos. Vaya has pink hair and loves fashion.

Vamos- Popularly seen with Vamos. Vamos has teal hair and loves fashion.

Volume- Dies.

Vinyl- A member of the Ultra Vs

Mad Gear and the Missile Kid- A rock band in the Zones. Everyone and their mother knows Mad Gear and the Missile Kid. They even have some of their own ‘music’ as an EP by My Chemical Romance.

Comic V.S. Album- The comics and the album are set twelve years apart. They are set in the same universe with a few of the same characters, though a majority of them rotate.

Dictionary-

Killjoy- A term that The Fabulous Killjoys originally coined, though after their martyrdom, the entirety of the desert adopted it.

Plus- Batteries that keep droids running

Wavehead- Someone who gets high off of the sun’s radiation

More- This is a good dictionary compiled on the Archive because I can’t think of any more terms right now

Plot (Album)- In the storyline following the album by My Chemical Romance, we are placed in the year 2019, and we follow a group that calls themselves the Fabulous Killjoys. As seen in the music videos, the group consists of Party Poison, Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul, and Jet Star, and their honorary member, The Girl. Draculoids are constantly hunting the Four and have a main base at a decrepit diner that is missing the letters N and R on the sign. In The NaNaNa music Video, we see that the Girl is kidnapped, and Korse (for some reason) lets the Killjoys live with the warning “Keep Running.” The exact meaning of this message is unknown, though this act of possible mercy allows the FOur to retrieve The Girl from Better Living, as is shown in the SING music video, though they give their lives in doing so. Doc is shown in both videos, as is Show Pony, and a brief glimpse of Hot Chimp is seen in SING.

Plot (Comics)- The Comics follow The Girl, starting with a broadcast from Doctor Death-Defying stating that it had been twelve years since the actions of the music videos. She and her cat companion run into the ultra Vs and get into a clap together, and she kind of sticks with them after that for a while before hiding in the eye of a giant metal robot in the desert (Destroya) and being found by Cherri Cola and taken to Doc D’s where she learns to shoot. While this is happening, we follow a parallel plot that follows Red and Bule in the city as Blue tries to secure more Plus for Red only to get her put on the list of defunct Droid for Better Living to collect and repurpose. After finding this out, the two decide to run for it despite rumors of preventative measures being put in place by Better Living. Only Blue makes it out. About this time, Cherri and the Girl get into a clap where Cherri is killed. Then The Witch appears to talk to the girl and tells her her destiny to destroy Battery City and also that he cat is a bomb. She leads a group of Killjoys to the city only to surrender. While this is happening, Blue is leading Destroya to the City, and at about the same time he arrives the people in Batt City attempt to Mask the Girl, at which point she spontaneously begins floating in the air and exuding a lot of light. This fucks up the battery that powers Battery City (I think), and all the dracs are freed. Val Velocity realizes that he’s a terrible human and gives her back Party Poison’s mask, and The Girl and her mother reunite. The End.

Mini Stories-/Special feature 

A boy stays up past bedtime, and the mother gets kidnapped by better living and replaced by a parental droid who can do a better job.

Two Killjoys find a droid-turned-satellite and are apprehended by Better Living.

That's all I have, but you're more than welcome to add anything or point out any mistakes I made!

i am attempting to understand the danger days lore but it is confusing me so if anyone wants to reblog/reply and talk about danger days at me please feel free

[frolicking-cat]

«𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞»

This is probably my first time posting my face on here but I'm just very proud of how this cosplay turned out and I wanted to share it and also I love this character???

Might delete later because of my insecure ass

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[rozeoverdose-main]

Here's my answers!

1. I love all the albums about equally, but my favorite is Danger Days! I'm really attached to the Killjoys California comic so it's not much of a surprise i don't think lol

2.

Bullets - Honey, This Mirror...

Revenge - You Know What They...

The Black Parade - House Of Wolves

Danger Days - Planetary (Go!)

Convention Weapons - Tomorrow's Money

3. I am absolutely in love with Mad Gear And Missile Kid EP. My favorite song of those is Mastas Of Ravenkroft!

4. Nothing beats the Welcome To The Black Parade mv, but i love Na Na Na mv too, obviously.

5. Honestly, i prefer the LOTMS version of Ghost Of You. It feels even more like raw emotion. Plus, the screams are awesome!

6. I like a lot of Billy Cobb's mcr covers. My favorite is a very impresive acoustic cover of Helena.

7. I made a Black Parade t-shirt and buttons, Party Poison's mask, and i have a battle jacket with a lot of MCR stuff, mostly killjoys-themed.

8. Out of the three, my favorite solo work is Frank's. I absolutely love Blood Infections, Dear Percocet, I'm A Mess, Losing My Religion (which, btw, i didn't know was a cover lmao, i have a story about that) and many others. I listen to them all the time.

From Hesitant Alien, I really like Juarez, Maya The Psychic, The Bureau, and How It's Going To Be (that one hits me in my feelings, i can't even really explain why, but it does). It's a good listen from time to time.

I don't really listen to Remember The Laughter, it's just not up my alley. Sometimes i listen to Isn't That Something though, if i'm in a particular mood.

Anyone wanna chat about MCR with me?

1. What's your favorite album?

2. What's your current favorite song from each album?

3. What's your favorite off-album song?(b-sides, EPs, etc)

4. Favorite music video?

5. Is there an alternate version of a song you like more than the album version? (live, demo)

6. Do you have an MCR cover you like? (cover of an mcr song by someone else, not mcr covering a song)

7. Have you made your own merch?

8. If you listened to them, what are your thoughts on Gerard's, Frank's and Ray's solo albums?

I'll read and respond to all answers :D

[tacticalspider]

aight so i listened to a podfic (read by giveemhellkidd) of "the science of sleep" (written by chimneythunder) while cleaning my closet a few months ago and basically it rewired my brain chemistry enough that i drew TWO seperate posters for it...and will probably draw another as my art abilities continue to grow and develop. the first one posted here was finished literally this morning and the second one a few weeks ago (idk when exactly). i couldn't find tumblr blogs for either the author or narrator but i hope fate intervenes and they see this anyway. their creation has impacted me so.

image descriptions in alt and under the cut

[image number one shows a colorful drawing of a poster, done mostly in marker. "the science of" is written in large yellow letters at the top of the paper, and "sleep is written in even bigger letters at the bottom. Behind the letters, there's a zig-zigging silvery line bisecting the page. on the left side, the background is blue, showing mikey way in the back wearing a grey shirt and a red bandana. he's got light skin, small rectangular glasses, straight brown hair falling into his face, and is smiling. to the right and a little bit further down the page is gerard, with light skin and dark hair falling into his face, which is partially hidden behind a sketchbook with blue colored sketches on one page. he's also smiling. even further down the page and to the left is ray, who has slightly darker skin and a curly golden brown afro. he's smiling and is wearing a black misfits shirt. the other side of the jagged line has an orange background and the aforementioned people are mirrored on this side, only as the danger days versions of themselves. mikey has his red kobra kid bomber jacket on and is pointing his red ray gun down and to the left. his hair is bleached and he has black sunglasses on. gerard has the yellow party poison mask, dyed red hair and blue bomber jacket. his bright yellow ray gun is being pointed above his head. ray is in side profile, facing towards the center of the page with his blue ray gun being held parallel to his face, both hands on the hilt, pointing it up. he's wearing his black jet star jacket, but it's partially obscured by two grey rectangles made to look like strips of tape, with red words on them reading "a novel by chimney thunder." this is right above the final E and P of "sleep." finally, at the very front of the page, his comparitively giant face bisected by the big jagged line, is frank! he has light skin and black hair and his eyes are closed. on the left side of the line, his whole closed eye can be seen and his eyebrow, which has a piercing in it, since his hair is cut very short. his ear is right in front of ray. on the right side of the jagged line, his hair is long and falling into his face, covering his eye. we can just see the side of his nose and bits of his cheek. finally a tagline is written on the poster. on the left side is written "good morning frank..." and on the right side "have you taken your medication today." finally, the signature "tactical spider" is written across gerard's head on the left side]

[image number two is pretty much exactly the same as the first one, only this one is mostly done in colored pencil and therefore the colors are bit lighter and less blended. the orange background on the right side is an ombre that gets lighter as it goes down. instead of being grey, mikey's shirt on the left side is black and is meant to have duct tape on it, on which it reads "arts and crafts." the bottom of frank's nose can be seen on the left side and we can see a small nose ring. also, there are two small slashes through his left eyebrow. the red words above the word sleep have no background and are much harder to read, though if you can read them you'll see they say "based on the novel by chimney thunder." finally, the "tactical spider" signature is written along gerards arm on the right side. end id]

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Prologue) | Tom Holland

Summary ↠ There’s just something about Tom Holland that makes your blood boil. He walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. You can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. Everything changes following an explosive evening at the Oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR... fake dating au; enemies to lovers; actor!y/n.

Word count ↠ 4.6k

Warnings ↠ Alcohol, paparazzi, swearing, discussions of misogyny and the corruption of fame, Tom and Y/N are both very petty, dramatic assholes.

A/N ↠ Ahhh it’s here! I was really shocked by how many people responded to the announcement post for the series -- I hope so much that this doesn’t disappoint anyone lol. This series is my baby, and I’m very excited to share it with you all. Before we dive into the fake dating, we must first explore a very critical evening for Tom and Y/N... hahahah. This was a lot of fun to write. Please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts! :D 

(Tom’s in the FFH premiere outfit because I’m still in love with that fit, and the jury’s out for whether or not the actual Tom needs glasses to see; this version of him just uses them as a fashion statement lmao)

((The biggest thank you ever to V, mischiefandi, for being this series’ no.1 supporter and proofing this -- love you mate))

Series masterpost

ZERO: The Oscars (Y)

The atmosphere at Vanity Fair’s Oscars after-party is electric.

The soft boom of the latest pop tunes seeps into the air, mixing with the warm lights and the sounds of clinking champagne flutes. The room holds Hollywood’s best, and it seems no matter which direction you tilt your head, your eyes find themselves settling over a familiar face. You’re walking amongst legends tonight, and as you throw back your third glass of champagne of the evening, you let a small smile unfurl across your lips. 

It isn’t your first time attending the Oscars, but it is the first time you haven’t felt utterly out of your depth surrounded by people of this calibre. When you’d first started in the acting industry, you’d found it incredibly unsettling to enter a room full of Oscar-winners. Even now you remember how your hands had felt slick with sweat as you’d nervously been introduced to Meryl Streep and Viola Davis, and how you’d felt imposter syndrome on a scale you’d never imagined possible. Time and experience have brought you many things, but most importantly, they have gifted you confidence. You’re 24 now, and the string of achievements and nominations tied to your belt is so impressive that they deem you no longer an outsider at the Oscars; instead, it’s as if you’ve been accepted into the fold. 

But for all the enjoyment of the lavish after-party, you can’t stop your mood from plummeting. It’s all fun and games until your eyes sweep the room and settle on a smirking figure standing in the corner: 

Tom Holland. 

Just the sight of him makes your nostrils flare. 

You think it must be true what they say: once you start to dislike someone, it’s as if every single thing they do irritates you. This is how you feel with Tom. Even the smallest, most insignificant details about him somehow manage to annoy you. You cannot stand the smell of his hair gel, and you detest the way he stubbornly refuses to mend his phone screen. Your teeth grit together every time you see that smug smirking grin hanging from his lips, and you get worked up by the way he always seems to swagger around as if he owns the room. The grievances fall into several categories: his aesthetic choices, his generally smug demeanour, and his irritating personality, and it all fosters your deep, unyielding disapproval of the man.

Tom infuriates you beyond belief - beyond words. And he’s standing across the room right now, staring at you over the rim of his wine glass with a teasing smirk hanging from his stupid lips. 

You try to ignore him at first. You lick your lips and return your attention to a conversation with some of your co-stars. You know better than to try and approach anyone else tonight. Your reputation, as your PR team likes to put it, is ‘fragile’ at the moment. A string of uncomplimentary ex-lovers and a few disgruntled directors have shattered your pristine public image, making you regarded as both a rising talent and loose cannon by the media. There’s been a common trend recently of news outlets dragging your name through the mud, and the desperate words of PR as they’d begged you not to cause a scene tonight drift through your mind as you contemplate wandering over to Tom. 

You know it isn’t in your best interests to engage with the man - no matter the occasion, your conversations always end explosively - but Tom is just standing there, staring at you persistently, and you just can’t help it.

Your tongue flicks out across your lower lip as you feel his hot gaze trailing around your made-up cheek. His eyes are intense - holding power over you, to the point where you have you excuse yourself from your conversation. An exasperated sigh slips past your lips as you turn around, preparing yourself for your encounter. Your stare finds him, and it follows Tom as he strides across the party towards you, one hand hanging easily from his trouser pocket as the other clasps an intricately engraved wine glass.

The frown on your lips deepens the nearer Tom gets, and as more details of his figure draw into focus. He’s got his chestnut waves slicked back tonight, with a few stray strands hanging out across his forehead. It makes him look dishevelled, but in a devilishly handsome sort of way - which makes sense, given you’re reasonably sure he must have some kind of relationship with Lucifer himself. Stretched across the wide expanse of his shoulders is a deep burgundy suit, and it cages him in tightly, leaving little to the imagination. Your lips curl into a poisonous grimace as your eyes finally fall on the glasses perched on his nose; you’re sure Tom doesn’t even need glasses, and it riles you up to see him parading the frames as a fashion statement. 

But perhaps the thing about his ensemble that annoys you the most is the fact that you can’t look away. No matter how hard you beg yourself, you can’t drag your gaze away from Tom’s swagger, or the tight hold he has on the stem of the glass, or the way his eyes dance with a dark, mischievous glint as he falls to a stop in front of you. Tom is many things to you, but it’s undeniable that you find him attractive, and that fact often keeps you seething well into the early hours of the morning. 

“Y/N,” Tom greets, his voice dripping charm. “Lovely to see you again.” His thin pink lips twist up into a smirk, and you find yourself clenching your fingers into fists around the tender stem of your champagne flute.

“Tom.” You step forwards, and your lips catch at his cheek as you press a firm, unwavering greeting to his face. You feel his warm hand slip from his pocket, and it grazes across your hip as Tom holds you closer. “You look to be enjoying yourself.”

When you pull back, you linger near him, allowing Tom to return the gesture by pressing his hot mouth to your cheek. He smells of rich, overpowering cologne, and you scrunch your nose up as his lips burn against your skin.

“It’s quite the party tonight,” he returns, stepping back. Tom’s beady little brown eyes run across your figure, taking in the long designer gown and the decadent sparkly necklace hanging from your neck. He graces you with an approving nod. “Are you having a nice time?”

“I was.” You pause to take a long sip of champagne, finding comfort in the way the bubbles pop against your tongue. You hope the alcohol will help to take the edge off the way your heart has started to pound against your ribs. “It’s a shame you had to come over here and ruin my mood.”

“Couldn’t help but notice you were staring at me, love,” he says, “Thought maybe you had something you’d like to say to me.”

You feel a hot spike of irritation as his lips curve effortlessly around the word love. Tom has always been a fan of pet names. The ease in which they roll from his tongue in that smooth, accented voice never fails to charm the room, and though you like to think you’re immune to his allure, you can feel the word spinning around your head like a broken record.

“Not really,” you return coolly, maintaining your composure with the poise and precision of a seasoned actress. You even manage to flash him an apologetic smile. “No big award for you tonight, though? Must be heartbreaking.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Are you really still caught up on the BAFTA?” He asks, his voice lower and harder. 

The mood between you dips, and instinctively you find yourself moving away into a quieter corner of the room. As you drift away from the hordes of celebrities guzzling champagne, it’s as if the facade between you breaks down. Your smirk becomes harder, your eyes less forgiving - and in return, Tom’s smile sours into a grimace, and he holds himself straighter. The masks you wear come off, leaving you both bare and exposed. 

“No,” you respond darkly. You’re tucked away in the corner of the party, with your back almost against the wall as Tom lingers in front of you. Both of you have discarded your drinks glasses. “I couldn’t care less that you won the BAFTA, Tom. If the jury decided you were worthy, then you were worthy. I would have to be very unreasonable to disagree with the committee.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Y/N.” Tom tilts his head to the side, flashing the tips of his shiny white teeth as his mouth loosens into a wild smile. 

“Fine.” You give him an excessive sigh, and you let your eyes drift towards his mouth. “I don’t buy it, Tom.”

Tom’s suit jacket breaks out into wrinkles as he crosses his arms across his chest. “You don’t buy what?”

“This act.”

Tom almost rolls his eyes again. “And which act are you referring to, Y/N?”

“The Mr Nice Guy Act, Thomas.” The way he flexes his jaw makes you lean nearer and smirk. “Everyone here thinks you’re such a wonderful man, but I see right through it.”

It’s hard to know precisely when your feelings towards Tom became so hostile, but you like to pinpoint the night of the BAFTAs in 2017 as the day you surpassed the point of no return. You were younger then - both of you - and things quickly got out of hand. You know Tom likes to pinpoint your ‘jealousy’ following his win and your snub at the awards show as the catalyst for your tumultuous relationship, but both of you know that night was the product of several cumulative events.

Your best friend had worked with Tom’s mate Harrison, all those years ago in 2016. You knew Harrison through her, and you got on well enough with him, so when the BAFTA academy had nominated both you and Tom as contenders for Rising Star, Harrison had orchestrated an exchange of phone numbers. However, given your packed schedule and press engagements, you had failed to respond to all of Tom’s attempts to contact you. 

One thing led to another. Tom assumed you were dodging his texts and started bad-mouthing you to Harrison. Word travelled to you that this guy - the competition - was throwing shade to your name, and so you might have made a few choice remarks about him on Ellen and suggested that Tobey Maguire was the best Spider-Man. Whatever. It was all so petty and childish, and it’d escalated to boiling point on the night of the BAFTAs when Tom hadn’t been able to shut up and thrust his win right into your face - quite literally. You can still remember the way he’d clutched the trophy as he’d shown it off in all its grandeur.

Ever since then, your relationship has been poisonous. A case of miscommunication and petty jealousy turned hostile, and now you’re in far too deep to even think about mending the fractured dynamic. 

“I am a nice guy,” Tom tells you. His eyes skim across your face, and you don’t miss the way they drag across the curve of your lower lip.

“As if.” You ponder which anecdote you should fall back on to prove your point, and it takes a while to select one: the pool of Tom’s past mistakes and moves against you is vast and wide. “Would a nice guy conveniently forget to invite me to Harrison’s birthday party?”

Tom winces, and something almost like regret flickers out across his face before he meets your eyes and hardens up his gaze. “I’ve already told you that was a case of miscommunication,” he says slowly, patronising. “I doubt you would have enjoyed it anyway, Y/N. Wasn’t exactly your type of party.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Your hand finds your waist, gripping firmly at your flesh to stop your fingers from shaking. The way Tom looks at you so intensely makes you feel strung-out and bare, and it’s almost as if he can see straight through you.

“It was a small, intimate gathering. From what I’ve been hearing, you’re a fan of the larger, more explosive parties, aren’t you?”

You could throttle him. You could really, truly throttle him. You know with certainty that Tom’s referring to the latest smear the media had run against you, which had placed you at an illegal rave in Downtown LA and cost you a role in a film you were passionate about. 

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the tabloids, Tom.” 

“Maybe not.” Tom’s closer to you now. You find your back brushing up against the wall as he steps nearer yet again, his shiny leather shoes sparkling beneath the light curving out from the chandeliers. “I’d like to think I know you quite well, though, Y/N. We have known each other for several years.”

“I’d use the word ‘known’ very loosely if I were you. I think it’s more like, ‘been plagued by’, but you do you, Tom.” 

He laughs, and this time the noise is lighter. You feel a little woozy from the champagne - or maybe it’s his cologne - and you let your hand wander up to rest on the top of Tom’s suit. You drag your fingers across the smooth material, marvelling at how soft the designer garb is to touch.

“Do you like my suit?” Tom asks, his voice lower than before. There’s a strange charge to the air between you, and you find yourself nodding.

“I disagree with the glasses, but your suit is decent. I have to admit that this colour looks flattering on you.” The bold burgundy tones bring out the warmth in his eyes, even if the stupid thin frames of his glasses obscure them. You watch as his pupils widen and feel the warmth of Tom’s breath as he inches in closer. 

“Thanks,” he says. Tom’s hand winds around your waist. “Your dress is very nice.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling dry. You briefly wish that you had another glass of champagne to keep you occupied because you find your other hand joining the first and finding purchase on Tom’s shoulder. He’s very close to you, and there’s nowhere left to move because you’d backed up against the wall. Fleetingly you wonder what it must look like, to be hidden away at the back of the party and caged in like this, but you decide that the flurry of heated emotions passing through his eyes and the way his thumb pads over your waist is worth it.

Neither of you says a word, but you watch through wide eyes as Tom’s gaze flickers out across your lower lip. He inches in closer, almost painfully slowly, his demeanour radiating a shaky confidence as he tilts the angle of his head. You watch the hard lines of his mouth dissolve, and his smirk melts away into something like a smile as his eyes flutter shut. Now Tom is very close - so, so close - and the gap between your mouths narrows by the second.

He’s going to kiss you. You know he’s going to kiss you. Why is he going to kiss you? Why are you going to let him kiss you-

“Y/N! Hey, congrats on the film. I saw it last week with my wife, and she loved it-”

Tom springs back. You gasp a short breath of air as your eyes widen, and the film of scattered emotions that had temporarily disarmed you shatters. Tom’s cheeks are bright red, and he doesn’t seem to know where to look or what to do as he jams his hands into his trouser pockets and stares at the floor.

“-Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?”

Your throat tickles as you shake your head, looking up to see Mark Ruffalo standing there, his expression relaxed but growing in confusion as he drinks in the awkward tension rippling between you and Tom.

“No,” you say immediately, a bite to your voice. You refuse to look at Tom. “You weren’t interrupting anything.”

Mark releases a breath of relief and launches back into his speech, complimenting you profusely on your performance. You become distracted as you listen to him, but not enough to forget about the way Tom had leaned closer and brushed his thumb across your side almost gently. After a few moments of conversation, you can’t stop yourself from glancing over towards Tom, only to notice that he’s slunk away elsewhere. His absence makes your heart twist.

Another hour slips away, and you find yourself returning to the Moët for release. You can feel your composure gliding away from you with each fateful sip. Tom seems to have vanished, and you find yourself questioning if he’s so embarrassed by your moment in the corner that he had to leave. You wonder if that would be better than him staying.

But eventually, your eyes seek him out, as they always seem to do. And you catch him chatting with a woman, his arm around her shoulders and his lips brushed against her ear. Tom seems to feel your gaze on him, and his deep brown eyes meet with yours. He raises his eyebrows and whispers something into the woman’s ear that makes her laugh, and it sends something whipping down your spine.

It isn’t just jealousy - it goes deeper than that. It’s the realisation that you could never get away with this behaviour. You know that if the roles were reversed and it was you who had been seen getting close to two men in one night, you would be assigned a whole host of derogatory names. The double standards that exist in this artificial world of cameras and headlines make you feel sick to your stomach. You are not jealous of the woman beneath Tom’s arm, though you will admit it makes you feel uneasy - it’s the hypocrisy of it all that makes you seethe. 

“Excuse me,” you mutter to no one in particular. Tom’s eyes slip away from yours as you put down your empty glass and turn, heading in the direction of an exit. You wander the vast, glittering ballroom for a few moments before spying a door embedded in the back wall that leads out into a dark alleyway.

When you step out onto the street, the cold February air seems to bring your tipsiness to the forefront of your mind. You giggle softly to yourself and wrap your arms around your chest, your fingers rubbing rapid fiery circles across your exposed flesh as you try to drum up a heat.

You lean back against the wall and stare up at the vacant sky. LA is too polluted to see the stars, but you like to imagine they’re staring down back at you. In the distance, you can hear the sounds of laughter coming out from the hall, and out at the end of the alley you can see the street, cloaked in dark paparazzi vans and dim amber street-lamps, but tucked away up here alone, you feel at peace. 

“Cinderella runs away from the ball, yet again.”

You scowl. Your eyes move away from the dark blanket of clouds to see Tom. He’s ditched the glasses, but you can see the legs sticking out from the pocket sewn to the top of his suit.

“Joined by her ugly pumpkin.” You screw up your nose at your own words, cursing your fizzled mind for messing up the tale. “That’s not right, is it?”

Tom approaches you, his cheeks full of a rosy tipsiness. “Dunno,” he murmurs. “Think I like it better than being called your ugly sister, though.”

“Ew.”

You share a loud, unruly laugh with Tom, your voices mixing almost melodically. When you sigh, you lean further against the wall. 

“I hate it in there,” you find yourself admitting. “So many people were talking about me behind my back. It’s like they think I can’t tell that they’ve just been discussing me when I walk over and the conversation falls silent.” You slot your fingers together and play around with your thumbs. “Everything is so fake. It’s like a game to them.”

A cool breeze floats down the alley, and you find yourself shivering.

“It is a game,” Tom says slowly, all whilst slipping off his suit jacket. He holds it out to you, raising an eyebrow when you shake your head. “It’s cold, Y/N. I know you’re stubborn, but neither of us wants you to freeze out here.”

The mood between you feels tender, and you let yourself accept his warm jacket. You throw it across your shoulders and feel the warm embrace of his suit, and the husky traces of cologne nestled to the fabric, but Tom’s looking at you with an intense gaze, and the sight of his golden browns draws you back to the scenes from inside the party. 

“Saw you chatting with a woman inside,” you say, words a little sharper. “Trying to see how many times you have to try it on before someone bites?”

Tom flinches. The air fills with the sound of him clicking his tongue as he rubs his hands together. “You are so fucking petty, Y/N.”

You raise an eyebrow, responding to his clipped voice with surprise. “Hit a nerve, have I?”

He groans softly. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I shouldn’t swear at you. You just get under my bloody skin.”

You shrug. “You’ve said worse.”

“So have you.”

“Only because you deserve it.”

Tom’s bearing in on you again, but this time you feel more at ease. The scent of his cologne mixes with the sweet champagne that lays fresh across your palette, and it makes you feel delirious. You can’t stop yourself from reaching up and draping your hands across his shoulders, bringing him nearer.

“You drive me crazy,” Tom admits. His voice is husky, his eyes dark and intense. In the slight breeze, strands of his hair waft across his forehead.

“I can’t stand you,” you return. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as his hands dig into your waist. The rough render on the building behind you digs into your back as you loop your arms around Tom’s neck and bring him in closer.

“Neither can I, darling.”

It’s like magnetism - some sort of invisible force pulling you in before you can even fathom it. One moment you’re staring at Tom, scepticism in your eyes and anxiety thick in your chest, the next he’s surged forwards and captured your lips in a messy, sensational kiss. You gasp into his mouth, and your fingers tighten against the short hair at the nape of his neck as you kiss him back harshly. Your noses bump and your teeth collide as Tom grabs at your sides with fervour, and having him clutching at you is so hot that it takes your breath away. The kiss is messy and hurried, and it seems to melt down all the built-up tension and frustration you’ve been nurturing for years. It makes your head hurt, and all you can focus on is how crazy it is that you are kissing Tom Holland - and, horrifyingly, how much you don’t seem to hate it. 

It comes crashing down when there’s a round of flashes, and you hear the telltale sound of paparazzi photographs.

“Shit!” You push Tom away from you immediately, your breath hitching as your head snaps down to the end of the alley. Unbeknownst to either of you, you’ve been spotted by the men with those large, invasive lenses. The flashes continue, and you turn away, your actions almost in slow motion as you feel a wave of nausea travel across your chest.

“Y/N!”

“Tom, Tom!”

“Are you dating?”

“Having a bit of fun tonight, Y/N?”

A chorus of cataclysmic yells come racing down the alley and the howls of the paparazzi mix with the loud sound of camera shutters.

“Fuck.” Tom grabs your arm, and he pulls you away from them, bringing you both back into the party. There’s a tightness in your chest as you gasp for breath, walking in dizzying strides as you card your fingers through your hair anxiously. 

“No, no, no,” you mutter to yourself. You can hear the calls of the paparazzi ringing in your ears, and you dig your fingers into your temples for relief as you snap your head to glare at Tom. “Why did you just kiss me? What’s wrong with you?”

Tom looks pale, and his eyes are round with shock, but he still manages to stare at you incredulously. “You kissed me too?”

You bury your head in your hands. “This is it - this is the last straw. They’re going to have a field day with this.” You peek out at Tom through gaps in your fingers, laughing humourlessly. Your chest burns as you take in his disarmed expression and his deep chocolate eyes. “This is the end.”

“It… It was just one kiss.”

You shake your head furiously. “They’ll run with it. They’ll make a spectacle of us.” Your nails dig into the soft palms of your hands. “You are such an asshole.”

Tom’s mouth, a little red and puffy, twists into something of a snarl. “You kissed me! Why is this my fault?”

“It’s always your fault.” You pause and shake your head. You can’t help but fall back on the naive thought that this truly is all Tom’s fault. You’d been fine before him. You’d been looking into the starless sky. You’d been at peace. He’d just had to waltz on out and trick you into his lips. “Well, I hope you enjoy the end of your career.”

He raises a thin eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve been associated with me, which is the equivalent of getting a big black line scored right across your name.” You reach up and jerk his jacket from your shoulders, and roughly shove it back into Tom’s hands.

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“Really?” Your gaze hardens. “This is all just a game, Tom, don’t you see? We don’t get to decide who stays on top.” You laugh humourlessly, your tongue tasting sourly of champagne. “We have fucked up.”

Tom sets his jaw. One by one, he stuffs his arms through his suit jacket and tugs it back around his body, sinking into it forcibly. He pulls his glasses from the pocket and places them back on the bridge of his nose, balancing them crookedly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom remarks, his voice cold and sharp. You briefly wonder if he understands the magnitude of the situation, and as he sweeps away without so much as a kiss on the cheek goodbye, you realise he probably does.

Without yet wholly understanding it, one drunken kiss has sealed your fate. As you stand there, twiddling with your thumbs in the back corner of the Vanity Fair party, your mind races. You know with absolute certainty that things will never be the same again, but not even your wildest dreams could compare to what is about to come.

buckle up bc I’m about to take us on a ride and a half. may as well have ended this with an ellipsis lmao.

↠  next part

any thoughts?! I am actually dying to know what you’re thinking lmao!! my askbox is open :D

taglist can be found in the series masterpost, which is the pinned post at the top of my blog

masterlist linked in my description 

[autisticvenomsibs]

you know if you ignore the masks, Fun Ghoul arguably has the least color variation of all the Killjoys (even Jet Star has the flag on his back)

picture him as the guy who’s slightly more Emo Classic than the others and less inclined to be flashy, like he probably showed up in some beat-up Desert Storm-ish duds and then added the yellow patches as a concession to the Group Aesthetic (and also, let’s face it, because I am not going to be the only one benefiting from camouflage while my three friends walk around with targets on their backs, give me those reflector strips) and when he goes to dye his hair he dyes it black so the general feeling among the others must be “lol he doesn't appreciate our vibe”

but he does

and it works so well on a character level bc like—we said he’s the one who’s most here for the people first and the ideals second, and the colors are part of that, the whole point is that color is the ideal, that color is life and meaning and emotion, that it’s the way we show those things and see those things and so if you’re dedicating your life to those ideals of course you’re going to splash as much color on yourself as you can

but if you’re in it for the human connection, that’s not really the important point, so you use it to express that connection to the people who matter most to you

you care about it bc you care about them and they do, and yeah bc it’s a rebellion and fuck the system… but mostly bc the system says you can’t have friends, says that family starts and ends with blood, that you can’t find new family, choose new family, that emotion should be stifled instead of expressed loudly at every opportunity, that you shouldn’t tell your friends—your family—how much they mean to you

he loves the colors because he associates them with his friends

if his friends dressed like the Black Parade he’d probably love that instead

so yes he hates the monochrome ugliness for itself but on a deeper level he’s looking around in this landscape and going “where are they”

(also the hair thing makes him the perfect foil for Party Poison who has to have been playing dangerously-recognizable-color-scheme chicken with Kobra Kid until one day he just made his entire head look like it was on fire and Kobra Kid was like “I give up man at least I can take off this jacket and sprint if I wanna”)

[swarmfly]

The fact that I got to see MCR live is just so fucking mind blowing to me. Like I remember being 12-13 years old having sleepovers with my friends and watching old concert videos so we could pretend we were really there in the crowd. I remember my 13th birthday party being revenge themed and how every event my friends and I went to we'd make some mcr themed costumes or find a way to slip a reference into our outfits. I remember making a party poison cosplay out of a cheap blue leather jacket and some coloured electrical tape and I remember wearing that thing until it smelled like garbage and fell apart at the seams. I remember crying on the phone with my best friend at the time when the breakup was announced and making my entire group of friends "black parade jackets" (again, more old jackets with white electrical tape for the stripes bc I was literally like 13) and we all wore them to school on the last day of 8th grade and it was so much fucking fun. I remember trick or treating dressed as Mother War, gas mask and all, with my group of friends dressed as other BP characters and then coming home to watch shitty horror movies and jam out to their music. Every time a new Killjoys comic came out I'd beg my mom to take me to the comic shop to get it and when I'd find the new issue I'd get all giddy and excited, and then I'd go home and read it and scream to my friends about it. And through the darkest, most terrifying and traumatic years of my life those songs and comics we're the first thing I would reach for to find comfort. I have always said that they are a massive part of the reason I'm still here today and I'm so fucking greatful for that, because I love who I've become and I love being alive.

Now here I am like a decade later, still processing the fact that I was in that crowd on oct. 3rd. I might have had to cross a fuckin border and drop more money than I ever have on anything in my life, but the experience was so fucking worth it. MCR is at the root of most of my favorite memories and is just such a huge part of how I became who I am today. They are the reason I picked up a guitar and learned how to play, they are the reason I started writing my own music and what got me so excited to make art. Fuck, the first experiences I had really questioning my gender and coming to realize I am trans were all because of how good I felt dressed up like them. Thanks to them, I've made so many beautiful connections and memories and I've discovered so much about myself and just fallen in love with life. I really don't want to die anymore, I'm so greatful to be here and to be alive, I'm excited and hopeful for the future and to make more memories like this.

Basically what I'm trying to say here is that this band and their art is so deeply important to me and it's something that makes me think that being alive is a good thing and something I wanna keep doing for a very long time.

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy

Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.

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In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”

Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.

But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.

In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.

With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.

In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:

The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.

Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:

No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!

But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:

[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.

In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:

The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.

In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.

Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.