#what fucks me up is when someone comes into my life and shows me their ugly sides and i dont judge and i try to be there

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[samandcolbyownme]

FIC MOMMA I NEEEEED MATT STURNIOLO IDC EHAT I MEED HIM

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, toxic relationship, arguing/fighting, name calling, kissing, rough unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, biting, scratching, creampie filth

Word Count: 2.5k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You couldn’t deny that the chaos in your relationship with Matt drove you insane. But the sick and twisted park inside of you loved it.

It loved the toxic chaos, the wreckage and it especially loved the make up sex that followed and falling in love with him all over again.

It was a cycle.

A dark and twisted cycle, but you couldn’t let him go.

“What the fuck, Matt?” You huffed, “You’re drunk, again?” You paused your tv show and sat up from the couch as he spoke, “Even when I’m drunk, you’re my my only type.”

“What does that even mean?” You ask, tilting your head as you hear familiar chatter in the background, “Are you at that fucking club again?”

“Nothing is happening, y/n. I just..” he groans, the sound getting quieter, “my friends hate seeing me so down.”

“Maybe if you wouldn’t be such a fucking asshole, you wouldn’t have to be so down.” You roll your eyes, “I said I was done and I meant it that time.”

“Come on, baby. You and I are like Bonnie and Clyde. If you’re done, I can have two grave sites dug later tonight because I’m not letting you go.”

“You literally called me a fucking crazy bitch for getting pissed that you flirted with the waitress right in front of me.”

“I wasn’t flirting, see.” He laughs, “I was being fucking nice, what do you want me to just be a fucking dickhead to everyone I come across?”

“You’re a dickhead to me so what the fuck does it matter?” You scoff, “I can’t.. I can’t do this.”

“Not fight any more?” He laughs slightly, “Yeah, same. So what do you say to a little.. make up sex? Hmm. I can come over right now.”

“No.” You say quickly, “I told you, I’m done.”

“Oh my god, y/n. You hate my guts, but then five minutes from now, you’re going to say you love me, fuck, I’m not-“ he sighs, “You can’t tell me you don’t love me. You posted those pictures of us, but you just cropped me out.”

“Yeah, because I looked good.” You roll your eyes, “I’m hanging up now. Have fun with your little one night stands and whatever the fuck it is you’re drinking.”

As you pull the phone away from your ear, Matt’s voice gets louder, “I love you, I love you, please.”

You shake your head, hitting the red circle.

You throw your phone down and take a deep breath as your phone chimes on the cushion next to you. You close your eyes, kicking your own ass for even looking at his texts.

I’m missing you baby

Is it someone new?

Y/n, please just tell me did you move the fuck on already? I mean, I guess you know what they say, can’t stop a running from running so go do what you need to do and I’ll be here when you come running back okay

You scoff, your thumbs moving at the speed of light as you text him back,

There’s no one fucking else Matt you fucking control my life, my everything. I’m trying to move on because your love is not fucking love and it’s all just a big fucking mess.

I said I’m done, and I mean it. Leave me the fuck alone or I swear to god I’ll slash your fucking tires

You grip your phone, your hands shaking with both rage and regret. You see his chat bubbles pop up and laugh at his response,

God

You’re actually crazy

I love it

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you try and figure out what to say back, “Fuck, Matt.” You sigh, shaking your head again before typing

I love you, Matt… but please, just let me the hell go we’re only hurting each other, and that’s not helping anyone in any way that is good

You set your phone down, hands moving to cover your face, “What the fuck. What the fuck.”

Your phone chimes again but you ignore it.

It chimes again, you ignore it.

It chimes again, and finally you huff, snatching your phone off the couch and standing up as you walk to your bedroom. You glance down at your screen, quickly skimming over his messages,

We can make it work, I can change we can do this

please don’t say that please

Let me come over let me see you please baby

As you’re typing, another message comes through and you can’t help but let out a laugh to hide the fact that it’s like a knife through your chest,

Fine I’m done with you

Bye

You throw your phone on your bed and close your door, turning to walk back out to the couch and click play on your paused show.

Two hours later, you decide to grab your phone. To your, not so much surprise, you see a text from Matt,

Hey

You roll your eyes, sitting down on your bed. You stare at the text, taking a deep breath before you start to type.

A knock on the door causes you to stop and you let out a sigh as you stand up, “I swear to god.” You walk out to the door, “Matt. If it’s you I’m-“ you open the door and there he stands, a smug smirk resting on his lips, “You’re gonna what?”

You roll your eyes, “close the door.” You go to close it and he stops it, holding it open enough to slip in before closing it, “No you’re not.”

“Leave.” You cross your arms, “I mean it, Matt. We can’t-“

“What? Can’t what? Be in love with each other? Because I hate to break it to you sweetheart, we are.”

“Matthew.”

“Y/n.”

You tilt your head back, eyes closing as you gather up all the patience you have, “Why are you here?”

“I said I missed you. So I did something about it.”

“We broke up.” You look at him, “And I meant it this time.”

He squints, leaning against the counter, “So then, what was.. mm, two nights ago?”

“Break up sex.” You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“The night before that?” He tilts his head a smirk on his lips and you shrug, “I don’t kn- I don’t know!”

“Mm. Okay.”

“I believe, I told you that I was leaving right after and you fought me on it.” You roll your eyes, “And guess what, I was gone when you woke up, both times.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, you still talked to me, called me-“

“Correction. I answered your calls.” You point at him and he chuckles, giving you a shrug, “Same difference.”

You shake your head, “Not really, no.”

He laughs, walking over to you. His hands slide over your hips and pull you in, “Come on, ma. I know you missed me, too. Can’t do a day without anything.”

“I can, you just never give it any time to see for yourself.”

He tilts his head, “Tell me you don’t think about it.”

“Think about what?” You look up at him, “If you’re referring to-“

“You.. face down, ass shaking, as you beg for me to fuck you. Telling me how sorry you are. How much you miss me, how much you miss how good I make you feel.”

“Shut up.” You look down and he tilts your chin up, “Eyes don’t lie, baby. I can tell you miss me just as much as I miss you.”

“Must not be a lot then.” A smirk toys with your lips and he smiles, “Mm. Keep telling yourself that.” He dips his head down, his lips connecting with yours for a split second before you push him away, “No. no. We’re not..” you sigh, “Not doing that.”

“We can be better, for each other, ma. Come on.” He walks over to you, “I promise, I’ll try harder.”

“You said that the last few times and look at where it’s gotten us.”

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“I want to actually be treated like a girlfriend. Not an option, or a.. a place holder while you look for something.. someone else.” You shake your head, “You know what, I’m not explaining it anymore.”

“I know, you’re done. But let me prove to you how sorry I am, ma. Please. I’ve been needing you, non stop thinking about you.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at the floor, “It just.. feels like we breakup just to make up, you know?” You look up at him, “And that’s just.. I don’t know, lately I’m exhausted.”

“So let me take care of you.” Matt offers, “Please. I really..” he tilts your chin up, “we’re like.. Bonnie and Clyde, baby. I’m willing to die for you.”

“Sure as fuck doesn’t seem it. You’d probably be too busy looking at another girl to even see the bullet coming at me.” You push his hands off of you and go to walk away.

He grabs your arm, pinning you up against the wall.

You wanted to fight him, push him out of the door, but you just couldn’t, “Matt.”

“You’re who I want, I was dumb, stupid.” His lips trail up your neck and you let out a small sigh as he continues, “I’m trying, y/n.” He kisses up to your lips, “This is me trying.”

You reach up, laying a hand on his cheek, “I don’t know if I want to slap you, or choke you out.”

“I’ll let you do both if you’re on top of me naked.”

You look up at him, your hands pulling him in by the neck, “We scream when we fuck, we scream when we fight..” you shrug, “So why the fuck not.”

His lips are on yours. His hands travel down your body as he slides them down to lift you up.

Your left wrap tight around his waist, his hand tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as his lips move with yours.

He walks you over to the couch, laying you on your back as his body stays hovered over yours. He wastes no time slipping his hand into your sweats, his fingers circling your clit.

You moan, body arching off the couch.

He groans against your neck, “No one can replace you, just like no one can replace me.”

He sucks a hickey into your skin, earning an even louder moan from you, but they continue flying from your lips as his fingers slip into your achy cunt, “Fuck, oh my god, Matt.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes rolling back as his fingers curl, “Fuck, yes, yes.” You whine, walls squeezing his fingers, “Oh fuck, fuck.”

Matt kisses up your neck, “Keep them comin’ ma. Wanna hear all you got for me.”

You moan louder at his words, your nails dragging down his skin as your body tenses up and jerks beneath him, “I-I’m co- fuck, I’m there, I’m there!”

Matt’s fingers work you through your high, listening to your loud moans and whines as you come down, “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes!”

He pulls his fingers out, moving his hands to take off his white tank and you push your sweats down, kicking them off before you remove your shirt.

Matt stands up to kick off his clothes and he sits down, reaching over to pull you into his lap.

You immediately sink down onto him, head tilting back as you feel him enter you fully, “Oh shit.” You slide your hands up his shoulders, leaning forward as you look down at him.

His hands grip your hips, urging you to move, “F-fuck.” He groans, “Move, fuck, move.”

You move your hips, moaning louder and louder the faster your pace builds up. His hand slides up, taking your hand to move it to his neck, “Do it. Use me to get it all out, ma.”

You smirk, your lip pulling between your teeth as your hand tightens around his neck. He tilts his head back, moaning out as his hand returns to your hip.

Your mouth falls open, moans repeatedly flying out as you stare down at him, “You’re so fucking hot.” You tighten your grip and he moans louder.

Your eyes stay locked on his, your head tilting back as you slam your hips down, “Fuck, Matt! Fuck, fuck!”

His hands guide you up and down, his grip just as tight as your hand on him. You lean down, your lips connecting with his as your hands slide around his neck.

You grip the back of the couch, moaning loudly into Matt’s ear as you cum, “Fuck, fuck, feels so good, so fucking good.” A string of moans and whine follow, and suddenly you’re on your back.

“So fucking good.” Matt moans, his thrusts fast and intense as he guides you through, “Fuck, I love you.”

You arch your back, your nails creating welted lines as you drag your nails glide over his skin, “I-i love you, I love you, oh fuck, d-don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”

His lips land on yours, your moans mixing together which cut the kissing short. Your eyes roll back and close as your legs hold him tight around the waist, “Oh my god. Matt, Matt, fuck!”

“Feels so good.” He moans out loudly, “Fuck, ma. M’gonna cum.”

You open your eyes, staring up at him, “There’s no one else but you.” You pull him down, lips planting onto his, “I can’t let you go, either.”

He nods, groaning as his thrusts quickly turn sloppy. You tighten your legs and moan as you feel his cock twitching inside of you, coating your walls with his cum.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He moans, head tilting to the side as he slowly pushes in deeper, “Fuck, ma.” He looks down at you, giving you a slight smirk as his chest rises and falls quickly.

You undo your legs and lift your head, “Oops.” You smile and bite your lip as he pulls out, “Just couldn’t help myself.”

He shakes his head, “You know what this means right?”

You roll your eyes as he sits up, “I’m yours.”

“Mm, what else?” He bites his lip, smirking as you laugh slightly, “This pussy is also yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He leans in, pecking your lips, “So.”

“So.. what?” You stand up, your legs shaking slightly and Matt smiles as he notices, “Well first off, I think I did a good job, yeah?”

You slip on your panties and put your shirt back on, “Yeah, like always.” You laugh and sit back down next to him, “So..”

“Oh yeah.” He looks over at you, his head resting back on the couch, “You going to be here when I wake up?”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head with a smirk, “Maybe.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much. I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[murrpa]

heart wrecking angst⇩

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In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.

Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!

All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.

Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.

Logan: Wade?

Wade: Yeah?

Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.

Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?

Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.

Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.

His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?

Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.

No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.

He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.

Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.

Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.

Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.

But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.

Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…

Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.

Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.

But Wade protests.

Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.

He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.

Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.

Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.

Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.

Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.

Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.

(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)

[bedsyandco]

♡ 𝆬 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝓹airing , quinn hughes x leilani tocchet

quinn doesn’t know what he’d do without his brothers and he hopes he never has to find out. him and jack have a habit of meeting at the lake house kitchen when quinn feels like the ground is about to swallow him whole. (wc ; 1.2K )

꒰ 𝓷ote , this is the first piece of my new au (sweet nothing). It’s a prologue of sorts. I am already completely in love with this universe, dad!quinn and everything that’s coming. this takes place before the ‘23-‘24 season. please feel free to drop by the inbox and tell me all your thoughts about quinn, lani and ro ꒱

quinn doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting at the kitchen counter, counting the drops that are falling into the sink from the leaking faucet. considering he’s counted to 600 something each time, 4 different times before losing count again, one might say a little too long.

drop , drop , drop . . .

the longer quinn stares at the sink, the more annoyed he gets. what a perfect analogy for what his life has been looking like the past few years. problem after problem dropping into his lap, like those drops in the sink, and he’s just supposed to figure out a way to solve them all.

except, much like the leaking faucet he still hasn’t fixed, quinn can’t seem to get a moment to catch his breath before another thing gets added to the long list of problems and responsibilities he has.

the latest wrench thrown in his plans showing up as a 6’2, green eyed Australian whisking his child’s nanny away down under. quinn lets an amused sigh escape, rubbing a hand down his face, and taking a long sip of the warm beer from the can he took out of the fridge hours earlier.

it’s not like this was totally out of the blue. the nanny and the Australian have been dating nearly three years and got engaged last summer. surely quinn should’ve anticipated this move. but for some reason, probably all the other things clouding his brain on a daily basis, he didn’t.

and despite the 2 month head start she gave him on replacing her, quinn still hasn’t found a suitable replacement that meets his standards.

a shadow moving on his left catches quinn's attention but before he can even give a reaction a fist is flying towards his face and hits him square in the jaw, sending his head rearing to the other side.

"what the fuck?!" jack yells, laying a palm flat on his chest, right over his erratic heart, looking at quinn like he was the one who threw the punch, and wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

"jesus jack. the fuck are you doing?" quinn grumles, rubbing his palm over his jaw, the rough hair against his fingers reminding him that he needs to shave.

"what am I doing? what are you doing? sitting here in the dark like you’re contemplating all your life choices,” jack half-jokes, sending his older brother one of his signature grins, but when quinn only releases a sigh as a response jack’s demeanour immediately changes and he pulls out the chair next to quinn’s at the breakfast bar, letting them both bask in the silence for a few seconds.

“last time we had a little bro-to-bro meeting in this kitchen at 4A.M. was when you told me about Rowan. And look, Ro is the best thing that ever happened to this family, but if you’re about to tell me you got someone pregnant again I’m really gonna freak out. I love being an uncle but you gotta learn how to wrap it up—“

“I’m not having another kid Jack. I can barely cope with the one I do have as it is,” quinn mutters, sending his brother an annoyed look that his mind would even jump to that conclusion. Not that he could blame him.

“Thank God. Besides my bet is on Luke and Vi having a kid next. Those two go at it like rabbits, at least now that Luke’s gonna be in Jersey it’ll lower the chances you know?” Jack says and Quinn lets out a soft laugh at his little brother’s disgusted tone.

“Let’s not put that out into the universe,” quinn jokes and jack hums in agreement.

“so if there’s not another little quinn on the way, what’s keeping you up this time of night Quinny?” jack asks softly, bumping his shoulder into his brother’s and Quinn lets out a shaky breath as he meets jack’s worried, blue eyes.

Maybe it’s because those blue eyes remind him so much of his mom’s that Quinn’s resolve melts away immediately as he tells his brother about the latest predicament he found himself in.

“well just start start up interviews again when you get back to Van. Ask some of the guys on the team who has kids, maybe they can recommend you someone they trust,” jack suggests as if quinn hadn’t already thought of and done that himself. jack must have seen the expression on quinn’s face because he doesn’t even let him get a word out before he speaks again.

“I don’t remember you being this selective when we were younger,” jack mutters and quinn scoffs

“yeah well I’m not choosing what toy to play with or who share my snacks with on the playground jack. this is my child’s happiness and safety on the line, I’ll be as selective as I damn well please,” quinn snaps, and jack puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“it’s gonna be okay. I’m sure you’ll find someone before the season starts. and if you don’t, and it comes to that, i’m sure mom and dad will fly out and be there as long as you need them,” jack suggests and quinn can’t help it as the feeling of panic settles in his chest and wraps around his throat at the idea of his parents rearranging their lives because he can’t get his own together.

he’s the oldest brother. he’s the captain. he’s the dad. he’s supposed to be the one looking after people; helping them figure things out and supporting them, not the other way around.

the thought of burdening others with his problems, physically made him ill. or maybe it was the thought about why he needed a nanny at all. the fear that he wasn’t present enough in his own son’s life. that he was an absent father.

with a mother that couldn’t get rid of him fast enough and a father that couldn’t even put him to bed every night. quinn was bound to screw his kid up for life.

jack’s face comes into view as he twists quinn’s chair, forcing him out of his deprecating thoughts.

“hey , no matter what happens. we got you, okay? someone’s gonna be there. mom, dad, me, luke, someone will be there if you need us quinn. I don’t care if I need to take a leave of absence from the team for a few weeks and be babysitter while you figure some stuff out. If that’s what we need to do, we’ll do it. And we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get there. I don’t say it nearly as often as you deserve to hear it but you’re a good brother Quinny, and you’re a great dad, and you’re about to be the best leader in the league,” jack says and quinn struggles to swallow past the lump in his throat

“crosby’s not retired yet you know,” quinn replies to the “best leader” comment and jack sends him a grin

“I know. My big brother’s always gonna be the best at everything in my eyes tho,” the words slip past jack’s lips and he laughs as quinn shoves him away slightly

“now you’re just trying to make a grown man cry and it’s mean,” quinn says and jack squeezes his shoulder one more time before going to grab a glass out of the cabinet. the original task he was coming down here to do…

“go to bed. i’m sure Ro is gonna wake up any minute and be looking for you,” jack says

“he’s passed out between luke and vi actually,” quinn says, grinning cheekily as jack laughs

“well that’s one way to keep them quiet.”

[shappobunny]

Stan Says Goodbye

I have never posted to tumblr someone pls tell me if it is abnormal to post a text this long.

Word count: 1764

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“Stanford, you can’t keep hiding away in that cabin forever. Ma’s memory is fading and she’s not going to be around for much longer. Don’t you want to say goodbye?” 

Shermie had left a million messages on the Shack’s phone. Each one a mirroring plea of the last call, begging Ford to come see their mother before she passed. 

But it was Stan listening to these messages, not Ford. He had no right to go see her.

The last time he had seen his ma, he had been hiding behind a curtain and a pillar at his own funeral. He nearly blew his cover when he saw her. Her hair was greying, and she was standing a little less tall than she used to, but it was her nonetheless. Those warm eyes that used to come down to level with him and the smile she would give him when she called him her special boy — all of that was the same. 

He didn’t think his mother would show up, not after ten years. He knew she had no way of knowing where he was, but he thought she felt the same way everyone else did. That he was the fuck-up of the family. The no-good son that ruined their one chance of having a better life. Who could think anything else? 

And now he had pushed her other son into a portal, forsaking him to some unknown world without knowing if he was alive or not. He couldn’t face her until he brought Ford back. 

He had to watch as she cried over his casket and it damn near killed him the way it broke his heart. 

But he had promised that day that he would bring Ford back soon and drag him along to ma’s house to show her that he was alive, and Ford was alive, and that they got along… Just like in the old days. They would sit in the kitchen and finally have tea with her — maybe even let her read their tea leaves once they were done. He would have saved Ford’s life and the family would gather again. For the first time in years, he wouldn’t be the fuck-up; he’d be his mother’s free-spirited Stanley. 

Things didn’t quite work out that way for Stan. As they usually didn’t. 

After 25 years he still hadn’t succeeded in bringing Ford back. After 25 years of sleepless nights and lonely desperation, he had nothing to offer to his ma in reconciliation. 

Now he was sitting on his couch pressing through message after message from Shermie begging him to come see her one last time. 

“Whaddya want me to do Shermie…” Stan muttered, folding forward to put his head in his hands. 

Did he want him to lie to his own mother on her deathbed? Or to tell her that her other son was most likely dead and gone somewhere they’d never even find his body? 

Stan wondered if Ford would have even gone to see her. The way he was the last time Stan had seen him, it was like the last thing Ford wanted was to see anybody. 

The phone rang again and Stan let it ring. The answering machine beeped and Shermie’s tinny voice came through the speaker. 

“Stanford I’ll be away from the city tomorrow to get a few things in order for ma’s funeral… You’ll get a break from my calls at least,” Shermie paused for a long while, and Stan thought that maybe that was the end of this call until he said, “She keeps saying your name, you know. Yours and Stanley’s… She‘s waiting for you,” he sighed. After a beat of silence, Stan heard the click of the phone hanging up. 

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

Stan watched the shadows of the pine trees dancing across his ceiling. What did his father used to say about the men in the Pines family? 

He closed his eyes and listened to the wind outside his window. He could almost hear the sound of gulls and the crashing waves of Glass Shard Beach. He could picture Ford, red from being sat in the sun all day scribbling away the plans for their boat. 

That Ford would want him to say goodbye to ma. 

In his memory, Ford smiled up at him as he ran over and they raced towards the waves, letting them pull out their little bodies to the water. 

Stan finally fell asleep.

The next morning he closed up the shop, and put on his cleanest suit. He wore Ford’s glasses, and found some six-fingered gloves lying around to slip on. Nothing fit quite right. The glasses were a little too loose, and Ford’s jacket was a little snug around the arms. 

Looking up in the mirror, he looked like his brother. 

When he got in the car he sat there for a long while. Not having the courage to turn on the ignition until the sun came at just the right angle to blind him. He finally began the car and started driving. 

What would he say to ma? What would Ford say? Probably something smart, and then he’d invent the machine that would save her life. 

That damn know-it-all, showing him up even in his own damn mind. If it weren’t for Ford trying to send him away 25 years ago, maybe they would have made up. Maybe they would have taken ma in when she started feeling unwell. 

Maybe Stan wouldn’t have to say goodbye to ma alone. 

Damn it. Was he crying? 

He wiped at his eyes with his sleeves, steeling his nerves so he could drive straight. 

He picked up some flowers at a shop down the street from the home she was in, and he checked into the home using Stanford’s name. Stan stood in front of her door for a long time, listening to see if anyone else was in the room. The silence was almost worse. He had no excuse to turn tail and run. He had to go in there and say goodbye to his mother. 

He knocked, a quick three raps. 

“Who is it?” His mother’s voice asked, as strong as ever. 

Stan smiled and opened the door. “It’s me ma, Stanford!” 

“Stanford?” She looked up at him from her spot on the bed, her eyes narrowed like she couldn’t see him quite right. “Sit down over here so I can get a good look atcha.” 

Stan set the flowers on her bedside and settled into the seat next to her. She was wrinkled and all grey now, but her brown eyes were still the same. 

“How have you been doing, ma? Shermie’s left me a million messages saying you’re on death’s door!” 

She smiled. “That Shermie can be even more of a nuisance than you are, Stanley.” 

Stan froze for a single second before smiling. “Ma you’ve got the wrong twin. It’s me, Stanford.” 

She reached a shaky hand to pat his. “Stanley you think I wouldn’t recognize my own boy?” She smiled. “You must think so little of your old ma.” 

He took a deep breath to compose himself. Her memory isn’t right, that’s what Shermie said. She’s just misremembering. 

“Ma Stan passed away twenty five years ago, remember?” 

It took everything in him not to choke on his words. 

“And Stanford didn’t show up at all?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t scam your old mother, Stanley, I taught you everything you know. Stanford would show up at your funeral. That boy isn’t as cold as he thinks he is.” 

He couldn’t answer. 

His mother pat his hand. “Oh, there, there, sweetie.” 

It took him a second to realize she was comforting him because his vision had begun to blur. He felt the damp trail of tears on his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. 

She tugged on his hand lightly so he would lean in, and he did. She put her arm around his shoulder as best as she could and gave him a weak squeeze. “Whatever fight you and Stanford have going on now, you’ll figure it out, sweetie. Ya always do...” 

Stan tried to stop himself from shaking so hard in his mother’s embrace but he knew he was failing. He held on a little tighter to his mother’s hand. 

“My sweet Stanley… You’ll figure it out.” 

“Ma what if he doesn’t come back?” Stan asked shakily. 

“Your brother is stubborn as a bull, he’ll come back just to prove you wrong.” 

Stan laughed at that and pulled away a little, to look into her eyes again. 

He missed her. So much. 

“Your breath is awful,” she said, grimacing. “Did I not teach you to brush your teeth?” 

Stan burst out laughing. “You don’t even have any teeth left, ma.” He didn’t want to tell her that he didn’t either.

“I’m on my death bed, what do I need teeth for?” 

A loud knock came at the door and Stan turned away, making sure to wipe his tears dry. He stood when the person entered. 

It was Shermie, holding a binder in one arm and a coat in another. 

“Stanford!” He said, his eyes widening in surprise. “You came.” 

Stan cleared his throat. 

“Uh… yeah, I couldn’t not come. It’s just been so… busy.” He tried to keep his voice low, hoping Shermie had forgotten what Ford sounded like at this point. 

“Well I’m glad you came,” Shermie looked over at their mother in her bed. “Aren’t you glad Stanford came by?” 

“Why would I be glad that this little brat ignored me for years just to say goodbye?” She asked gruffly. 

Shermie laughed. “Same as ever, ma.” 

Stan took the lighthearted mood as his means of escape. He began walking towards the door but took one last look back at his mother. 

She smiled warmly at him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He wanted to burn this image of her in his mind, sitting tall and confident, reassuring him that things might turn out after all. 

When he found Ford, he would tell him about her on this day. How she knew without hesitation, how she made all of his loneliness melt away, and how she gave him the hope to finally bring him back. He would tell Ford that she loved them both until the end, just as much as she did the day she brought them home. 

Ford would cry with him 

“I’ll be back, ma,” he said with a smile. 

She winked at him before saying, “Doncha dare come back!”

[wilcze-kudly]

Suyin wasn't "coerced" to commit a crime, neither did she want to take herself out of the situation. She wanted to get her friends out of paying for their crimes because she's spoiled and entitled.

She didn't "have" to travel the world, she was sent to family members to take her away from a criminal and endangering environment, and she decided to escape because she's too much of a pick me girl to stay with the so called family "that didn't show her affection". To be honest, you speak of her as some kind of adult avatar-styled Rapunzel, instead of a teenager who deserved to be reprimanded.

She did turn her life around, and kudos to the creators for showing that. No one can say that her story and background is boring by any chance.

She, however, is not the most likeable character out there to a big part of the fandom, but I seriously doubt someone is taking it as seriously as you seem to do. Just chill.

Istg this happens almost everytime I post something mildly touching on the fact that Suyin deserves compassion too. Though you may be the same anon who blew up my inbox a while back so it might just be you.

I've always found the disdain we have for "troubled teens" upsetting because usually, when a teenager "acts out", there's more of a reason behind it that just "ooh they're spoilt or entitled".

[Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal ideation mentions]

Like, I was a very difficult teen back in the day. I argued with my parents, even got into physical altercations, skipped school, ran away from home at night. I was also going through a severe depression, dealing with a shitton of childhood trauma, cutting on the regular and making multiple attempts on my life. Hell, if my parents had brushed me off as "a kid who needs to be disciplined" I probably would've killed myself at 14. It doesn't excuse me for punching my dad in the stomach when he was just trying to stop me from running away into the night but it doesn't mean I didn't deserve help.

[End of Trigger Warning]

These two things can be correct at the same time. Suyin can have done a shitty thing that deserves reprimand and that she needs help that she seemingly had to find on her own. But like, guess which of these two is almost exclusively focused on.

And I mean, it's totally not like the Avatar fandom has a habit of expressing extreme hate towards young girls (especially young girls of colour) making sub optimal choices or just beind "annoying". I've just never seen that before.

Suyin grew up with Toph, who Lin herself has described like this:

Suyin : No, no. My children are a blessing. Lin: Yeah, mom used to say that too, but she never meant it.

Which btw, still an incredibly hillarious thing to say in front of Suyin's children: "Hi kids I'm your aunt Lin and your mother is lying about loving you"

While Suyin has, as a child, expressed doubt that Toph would even care that she's skipping school. And as an adult, she has described her childhood with Lin as "competing for their mother's affection" and still has doubts whether or not her mother is happy with how either of them turned out.

Hell, even though Su and Toph have been said to have made up, Toph still maintains a heavy layer of distance between them, seemingly dissappearing for years at a time!

It's honestly sad how Suyin hugs Toph and puts up statues of her everywhere in Zaofu and yet Toph still just fucked off to the swamp when Opal was probably less then ten and did not contact them.

I mean, sounds like there's not a lot of motherly affection going on there, dude. Idk what to tell ya. We know there were no fathers around either.

And Lin was also a victim of this environment, so I don't really want this to come off as me blaming her for the way she acted towards Su. But Lin is hardly what I would call affectionate.

So of course Suyin would put so much stock in her relationships outside the house. And her friends happened to be fucking criminals fucking hell. And of course Lin, being a kid too did not know how to approach this situation properly, so she inadvertently just pushed Suyin closer to them by insulting them and making her feel defensive.

Because that's what all fucking teens do. The internalise things, they rely on their peers to form their perception of things and they want to be independent. So when someone, especially someone who isn't a parent tries to control them, guess how they'll react? They dig their heels in. Especially a teen like Suyin who has virtually no reason to listen to her older sister other than a vague "I know better than you" type of vibe which really pisses teens off. That's like the time when talking down to them is the worst thing to do.

And fuck off with saying getting arrested and screamed at by your sister in the middle of the road isn't a stressful situation that you wolud wanna get out of. Lin punched a car so hard it dented! (Especially that Lin has already been confirmed to use her status as a police officer against people she has a vendetta against, like when SHE TRIED TO THROW PEMA IN JAIL FOR STEALING HER MANS like how tf did we brush over that)

What I always find interesting in this scene is the front that Su puts on in front of Lin, which slips up a few times, particularly when Lin can't see her expression. Because Suyin is, of course being a fucking brat and taunting Lin, but you can clearly see that she's stressed out.

Suyin also describing the reason she helped her friends as a getaway driver is something I find interesting:

Suyin: I didn't steal anything. I just drove the car. I owed my friends a favor. It's not a big deal.

Of course she's scared and minimising her involvement but the usage of "owing her friends" could very easily imply her not exactly being too hyped about this, as well as her insistence on not stealing anything.

Because the thing about Suyin is that, especially in the flashbacks, we see her only in Lin's PoV. We don't see her relationship with her friends, what led up to the robbery, anything. Which makes sense, because the flashbacks are supposed to be Lin's. But that means we're viewing Su with the inherent bias of Lin, who clearly has an agenda against Su.

Lin clearly blames Suyin for Toph leaving policework, despite us later seeing how burnt out and cynical Toph was about being a cop. Its more likely that Su's arrest was a wake-up call for Toph, but she left due to the buildup of stress and disillusionment and Lin, who has been idolising her mother and her mother's career blamed it on Suyin in her head.

Hell, even they made up, Lin still immediately pivots to accusing Suyin of being involved in the Red Lotus' attack. Despite the attack placing Suyin's life, the lives of her sons and the lives of her guards at risk and Suyin going out of her way to thwart it.

And Suyin's life is just a fucking mess after this point like: betrayal by close friend, daughter kidnapped by terrorists, anarchy in the kingdom, leaders of 2 foreign governments trying to pressure her into subjugating the people in the name of a monarch she doesn't support, betrayal part 2; child boogaloo, the country she lives in being declared a dictatorship, city under literal siege, threat of attack in 24 hours, the fucking Avatar doing fuck all to help, a desperate attempt at assassinating the leader, getting caught and placed in questionably humane restraints, having to watch her daughter be forced to flee, PUBKIC HUMILIATION, the arrest of her non combative son and husbandd, INHUMANE JAIL CELL...

Do I need to go on? Like the moment the Krew came to her gouse her life just started to fucking fall apart its actually kinda hillarious.

And calling Suyin a "pick me" is just... unfounded? Who's she trying to get picked by? Her mom who doesn't love her? Girlie just wanted a family she literally said so in the show, put your listening ears on, babes.

I understand that Suyin isn't the most likeable character to people. I can understand why they dislike her. She can be annoying, hypocritical, rash, the poor structuring of the episodes around her and Lin makes it so she gets unearned favour from the writers etc. People who like Lin and Kuvira, two extremely popular characters in the fandom have an easy villain in their faves' lives if they just tweak Suyin a bit.

But that doesn't mean I'm obligated to dislike her too or that I'm not allowed to post about her in a way that doesn't allign with the fandom's narrative of her. You're not obligated to read it, hun, you can block the #pro suyin beifong tag if it makes you that upset to see me

I want to appreciate parts of Suyin which aren't highlighted by the fandom and I'm allowed to do that. Just because it doesn't fit with your clearly overtly negative opion of the character well, tough luck. And hey, I gladly take the opportunity to talk about Suyin, but I've also made a ridiculous amount of posts around har and have probably addressed almost every single fandom complaint of her at some point so I'm starting to get a little tired of repeating myself lol.

And I'll be the first to admit, my own teenage years probably heavily affect how compassionate I am towards Suyin, particularly in her younger years. But I know how much people hate "troubled teens", how little compassion thet are given.

The narrative that if a misbehaving teenager just gets deisciplined and reprimanded enough they'll stop being "spoilt and entitled" or acting out is wrong and harmful. It hurts tons of teenagers by not getting them the help they need and it would've fucking killed me.

Also hun, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I tend to use hyperbole a lot. I'm a dramatic bitch. Like did you also think I was serious when I said I'd shoot myself if I saw another ad for Amazon's shit lotr wannabe show?

Tbh everytime I get an ask like this I vaguely consider doubling down and commiting to the bit of being the fandom's "Lin Beifong hater". Though I feel like a lot of people wouldn't realise its a bit and think I actually hate her for real lol.

[alexisnotstraight]

My Chemical Romance for Kerrang, by Tom Bryant and Catherine Yates. 25/09/04

My Chemical Romance will be massive if only Gerard Way can keep it together long enough.

It was in Kansas City that Gerard Way cracked. My Chemical Romance's frontman woke up and wanted to end it all. He'd forgotten how many times he'd woken up depressed in the weeks leading up to that moment, he'd forgotten how many times he'd gone to sleep on a a cocktail of alcohol and pilis and he'd had enough.

Soon after he was in Japan, backstage at Tokyo's Summer Sonic festival. He'd been vomiting in a bin for 10 solid minutes, the result of a sake binge. His band were standing around him not knowing what to do, not knowing how to get through the show, not knowing how their best friend had got himself into this state without them noticing. Then, three days later back in their hometown of New Jersey, the band sacked their drummer, Matt Pelissier. From the outside it had locked as if nothing could stop My Chemical Romance's rise. Their sensational new album, 'Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge', was a culmination of everything they had worked for, a desperate gamble that was paying off phenomenally. Then, suddenly, it all came apart and unravelled dramatically night in front of them.

Today, in New York, Gerard Way is sober and has been for 12 days. He's dressed head to toe in black and he smells bad. It's a potent mixture of the cigarettes that permanently hang from the comer of his mouth and the sweat from yesterday's show. He knows it too.

"You know when it's really bad," he says with a smile. "It's really bad when you disgust even yourself."

He cuts a strange figure, almost as though he doesn't belong inside his own body. His cherubic, baby face is framed by lank, black hair. His shoulders are hunched over a result of a slipped disc and a problematic spine condition-giving him the appearance of a brooding, camp history professor. He looks both too young for his 27 years and too old for them also. His face puts him at roughly 15 years old, his body and strange charisma give him the air of someone who has lived a long life full of weirdness. It's hard to put your finger on him-at times he's stunningly honest, at others he can clam up. He is, though, enormously likeable and naturally intelligent. He also likes to be in control.

"Control is important to me because musically we're so out of control," he says "This band is so on edge that I want everything else in my life to be controlled. I need it to stay sane."

He also worries a lot- "it's the curse of the Ways", he says. Right now he's worrying about that day in Kansas City and what lead him to that state.

"I have the potential to be a fantastic alcoholic," he states bluntly. "I could be really, really good at it. You have to be careful in a band-you can become an alcoholic really quickly, then the booze leads to the pills, the pills lead to the coke and so on. it's all interconnected."

This is a Gerard Way who's turning over a new leaf. For months he'd been hiding his depression and drinking from his band. Today, in front of them, he's happy to talk about it openly to anyone who asks him, it's almost as if just speaking about it is making him feel stronger, making him feel in control of it. It seems a strange condition to have got himself into though, given the potential of his band.

"I hope this doesn't come across as an excuse," he says. "But I think at times people want you to play the part of the fucked-up drunk singer. So you start playing it for a while and then suddenly you realise you're not acting anymore you are that horrible person. That's what I realised in Kansas. I'd been drinking heavily before shows to get myself up and I'd drink more to stay high after the set. Then I'd mave onto pills to bring myself down again. I was constantly trying to artificially control my brain - I thought I could get a real handle on it. Then occasionally I'd start dabbling in other garbage - nothing major but just enough so that I'd got to that point where I was standing on theedge. That's where I was that moming in Kansas."

All the while he is saying this he is looking at each band member. They occasionally look up at him but mostly gaze at the floor - this is painful for them, too. But this is not a shameful admission, instead it's one that Way feels is setting him free, is helping him identify where he went wrong.

"I woke up that moming and I felt completely desperate, I wanted everything to stop I wanted it all to be over. I wanted to freak out, I wanted to smash things and I wanted to hurt myself while I was doing it. I was entirely depressed, suicidal and all that garbage. I warned it all over, all of it... everything."

He phoned a friend who taked him through it, who said that if he could just make it through to Japan then he could come home, he could go back to the therapist he's been seeing for years and could think about rehab. Then he went to each member of the band individually and told them everything.

"We knew he drank too much," says guitarist Ray Toro. "I don't think we realised the full extent of the problem, though. We felt I like, 'What did we miss? Could we have done something sooner?". But don't think Gerard would have listened if we had, I think he had to do it for himself"

"I needed that support," says Way, who did go back into therapy but chose to go cold turkey rather than head into rehab "I'm still scared, though, I worry it could happen again and I could end up dead. When this band started, it saved my life. I got saved, then I went off the rails again and the band come to to my rescue a second time: I hope it's now an excuse to keep stable, because it's all that I have now."

The spirit within in My Chemical Romance is perhaps stronger now than it's ever been. Perhaps it has something to do with Way's honesty towards them, a feeling that they know he can confide his deepest problems to them and that they can be there for him. Perhaps it's because they know that they have written one of the stand-out albums of the year. Either way, this is a band full of confidence, who have no fear of making statements.

"This album gives us a shot," says Way "This gives us a chance to stand up against some really big bands and ask them if they can compete, if they can push the envelope and bring some new ideas."

Their self- belief is phenomenal, but for now it it doesn't doesn't crass into arrogance.

"I don't think we could ever be arrogant," says Toro "Our backgrounds will keep us grounded. We're al working class and I don't think it's in our nature to go that way. I still live at home, my mom still yells at me for playing my guitar too loud - that will tend to keep you grounded."

"But that doesn't mean we don't think we can achieve anything," says fellow guitarist Frank lero "To get to this point means we must be doing something special. I've had a feeling recently. It feels like this dream-the dream of being in a great band has come true through luck, hard work and persistence. If that's possible, then all my other dreams are possible, too."

"Without sounding completely out of my mind," adds Way, "I believe that anything is possible."

It's perhaps this confidence, this belief in their own ability and their ambition to take things further that spelled the end for ex-drummer Matt Pelissier. The band are tight-lipped about what exactly happened.

"I don't want to make things public," says Toro, "We know why we made the decision and we hope he does too. But, from our end, it will stay between Matt and us."

It's not the route Pelissier chose to take. He instantly went on to the band's messageboards. Parts of this post give some reasons as to his departure, but you sense they don't tell the whole story.

"They told me I'm cut of the band because they are uncomfortable with me onstage and they're afraid I'l mess up," he wrote. "I've had some whoppers on a few occasions - I'll never deny I'm human, but we all make mistakes... Do I think I've been shafted? Yeah. What happened to the five brothers that loved each other more than anything else on Earth? I gave up everything for each one of them."

My Chemical Romance don't want to get into a sanging match with their ex-bandmate, but what Toro will say is that, "Musically we know we are stronger now". Then, perhaps more tellingly, "We can look each other in the eye and feel love between us. That's definitely true now".

"If I'm going to say anything about anyone being fired," adds Gerard Way, "then it's that this band is about giving a a shit about each other, about looking people in the fucking eye and knowing you care about them, that they care about you and knowing that's the truth. That's not directed at Matt, that's directed at the whole band."

What it has meant is that the band are on even more of a high, that they finally feel as if all the cogs have fallen into place. Watching them. play at Irving Plaza later that night is a revelation, lero whirls around the stage manically, spinning into amps, mic stands and collapsing on the floor. New drummer Bob, who looked nervous and perhaps felt out of place during the interview - is all smiles. Gerard's younger brother Mikey - the youngest meriber of the band ("He needs a bit of looking after," laughed lero earlier. "I once caught him going into a shower with an electric heater!") - beams at the crowd. The real chemistry live is between Toro's brutally eloquent guitar-lines and Way's all-encompassing charisma.

The frontman stalks the stage like a Southem preacher, goading the crowd, getting in their faces, calling down a hail of fire and brimstone. Toro Is behind him reinforcing his sermon with alternating violence and calm. To watch them here, in their natural habitat, in front of what is virtually a hometown crowd, is to watch a band who will soon be too big for venues like this. A band whose latest release mixes it with the biggest around.

And, providing Gerard Way can keep his head together, a band who might just go all the way.

Written by Tom Bryant

The band of the moment seal their claim to greatness.

If the creative and the commercial don't always have to be mutually exclusive agents in music, then no-one has told yourcodenameis:milo. Fresh from their K! Awards glory, the Newcastle quintet have been a post-hardcore buzzword for a while now. Fine in itself - for those fond of tortuous intricacy and ever more obscure, jarring arrangements, they hit atonal paydirt in style. But their angular contortions make for a dour spectacle that leaves you wondering just how long their new-found major label tenure is going to last.

My Chemical Romance have no such qualms. The final night of their biggest UK tour to date is the hottest ticket in town and it's easy enough to see why. Subverting emo's plaintive self-absorption with a crash and burn bloodrush of black humour and cinematic verve, this New Jersey quintet are a hair-raising breath of blistering immediacy - so much so, that with barely a week in the sales rack, the crowd are hollering out the lyrics to new album 'Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge' as if they were decade-old classics.

Chances are they might stand such a test of time, too. Accessible without being empty, intelligent without the need to

advertise, and able to summon the full metallic KO on demand, they swiftly outmanoeuvre any crude screamo/Goth-punk tag with an exuberant flourish that suggests their sights are set on greater things.

Much of this of course is down to the antics of singer Gerard Way. It's not as if MCR are thin on character, but the frontman makes for compulsive viewing. Clad in a shabby black suit, his eyes smudged crimson, he flails and pitches like an overcranked, clockwork ghoul exuding a freakish yet magnetic charisma. It is, he announces, his 20th show sober, although he infuses the unashamedly teen-core frenzy of 'I'm Not OK (I Promise)' and 'Helena''s bolt -gun swoon with such unhinged theatre you can only wonder what he was like before he nixed the booze.

Though the truncated set (due to the last minute replacement of drummer Matt Pelissier) means their white-knuckle ride runs its course inside of 40 minutes, it's enough to convince most here tonight that this will be a romance worth pursuing.

My Chemical Romance frontman pays homage to metal gods in London boozer.

My Chemical Romance frontman, Gerard Way teamed up with Canadian riff- rock duo Death From Above 1979 at an intimate secret gig at London's Crobar on September 14.

The vocalist hot-footed it to the bar moments after the New Jersey mob's sold-out show at the Mean Fiddler, joining the Toronto twosome onstage for a spirited cover version of Danzig's 1988 classic 'Mother'

"Someone said it would be a good idea to do two shows in one night," explains Death From Above 1979 bassist Jesse F Keeler, who opened for My Chemical Romance on their recent headlining UK tour. "We've been hanging out with them for the last four days and thought it would be cool to do a cover with Gerard."

"We were all talking about how fucking good the jukebox is at the Crobar," Way tells Kerrang! "They've got Danzig's first album on there, so it made sense to do one of his songs. It's been my dream to sing a Danzig song onstage and I loved it."

As well as bonding over a mutual love of the diminutive former Misfits/Samhain frontman, Way, Keeler and DFA drummer Sebastien Grainger have connected, somewhat unusually, over hairdressing.

"The hairstyle Gerard sports is my doing," laughs Keeler. "I'm not a hairdresser by trade, but hairdressing is a bullshit art. Once you know how to do it, it's not difficult. I've dated hairdressers and have cut hair for a decade."

"I love it," says Way, the satisfied customer. "It was a drag to care for. Split ends and everything! It's one of the best haircuts I've ever had. I offered them some beer, but they had plenty."

Written by Catherine Yates

[jacquiarno]

It’s Bisexuality Visibility Month (also Suicide Awareness Month), and the biphobia has been constant and intense, even in our own bi spaces, mostly from fellow LGBTQIA+ people.

Bi women have been told they are tainted for being with men, that we are dirty and dick obsessed. We’ve been told we are perverted fetishists by both cis and trans lesbians, with even gay men joining in on the insults, with one even threatening violence towards bi women if they come near lesbians. We even got told we deserve to be abused, raped, and murdered by our male partners because that’s what we deserve for dating men.

Bi men are being accused again for being HIV carriers, with gay men saying they are only good for sex because they will end up leaving them for women. One trans man said he would kill himself if a man started dating a woman after him, not leave him for one but just start dating again and that person being a woman.

I haven’t seen insults directly about non-binary bisexuals, but I’m sure there would be and a lot of hate lumps us all together. All this hates stings me but I can’t imagine the pain of all this for non-binary, trans women, and trans men dealing with it all, and it makes me so disappointed and angry that fellow trans people in this community are hurting them.

Pride Month a lesbian wrote “I wish god would eradicate all the bisexuals” while another wrote “For Pride Month let all the bi people disappear” with both having thousands of likes and comments agreeing. Now during Bi Visibility Month, a non-binary lesbian with feminist in their profile posted “Happy bi visibility month, I hope they find a cure soon 💖”. While continuing to mock us after.

Our allies and so-called LGBTQIA+ advocates have been silent and have even participated in bierasure, laughing at us when we point it out, saying “It’s not that serious.” “Lol the bis are getting upset over nothing again”. Only the bisexual advocates and pages have spoken out against the hate.

The B in LGBTQIA+ is suppose to be for bisexual but this community says and treats us as awfully as the bigots do to all of us. Bisexual is the sexuality that is attracted to two or more genders, that we have the ability to love anyone regardless of their gender. But we’re treated as greedy, perverted, hyper sexual, unfaithful, which from bigots you understand and usually brush off, but from those within the community who go through similar prejudice and should understand, sharing the same ignorant mindset.

These spaces are suppose to be our safe havens as well, but are just as dangerous. We try making our own spaces and even that is invaded by these people, we are beyond exhausted. We need the other members of the community that aren’t biphobic to speak out more and shut these people and this hate down. Because the lack of empathy from this community is frightening and all this in-fighting will allow the bigots to pick us a part more easily.

[coridallasmultipass]

Just wanna remind everyone that it's NEVER okay to tell someone to die.

You don't know how hard they're fighting to stay alive every day. Or if they don't even want to fight for that any more.

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic 

[tamagotchikgs]

last post ended up deleting my tags so im continuing them here

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

the eternal question: is scheduling w friends as an adult That Hard or am I just bad at it

[bibiana112]

Girl are you okay? Cause you've been looking through the "My lesbian experience with loneliness" tag again

Well the short answer is no :D

[actually-eldritch]

It's all me it's aaaaalll me it's all people all the way down you know my best influence my strongest influence comes when I don't mind not receiving credit and my second strongest influence comes when I'm not afraid but the problem is that I'm always terrified and most of all, I'm starving.