#i really dig this comic every time I work on it

[psychonauts2000]

Other influence to MindWarp comic: Aeon Flux

[vintagegeekculture]

Someone deeply influential in a subterranean way to comic book culture passed without comment this week: female bodybuilder Lisa Lyon, who was 70. Even if you've never heard of her, I guarantee you've seen her image, or a takeoff of one of her images.

If she seems familiar in some way, there's a reason.

You see, every single artist in the world has it drilled into them that an art swipe (tracing from figure studies or other artists) is unethical, but here’s the thing:

Every single working comic artist does it!

Is it really cheating if everyone does it? Artists love to mock Rob Liefeld for his art swaps, but it is possible to do the same if you dig into the art catalogue of nearly any comic artist, even today. Nowhere else can I find a better example of the old quote that "hypocrisy is the tribute vice pays to virtue."

In any case, there’s no better figure at the center of this than Lisa Lyon, who in the 1980s, was a female bodybuilder who was the center of an enormously influential series of sophisticated physique study photographs by superstar photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. It sounds almost quaint to remember now, but Mapplethorpe was so influential that he was the first photographer to be called to congress for obscenity in the 1980s, based on his male nudes and study of the gay BDSM scene, in a moral panic that sounds extremely familiar. He was also the first photographer to get a video game, the Flowers of Robert Mapplethorpe on CD-I, which was essentially just an image gallery set to muzak, famously reviewed by a completely baffled Angry Video Game Nerd and his sidekick.

Mapplethorpe’s favorite subject was Lisa Lyon, and his photographs were so widespread that they were essentially traced and used for art swipes over and over by comic artists that need a study of a muscular female physique.

So at different points, photograph swipes of Lisa Lyon were the model used for Wonder Woman, She-Hulk, tons of fighting game characters....it's impossible to list all the times a Lisa Lyon photograph was swiped. We may never find them all. Most importantly of all, she was not only swiped but was the physical inspiration for the appearance of Elektra.

Frank Miller always had a foot in the fine art world, and like his mentor, Philip Jose Farmer, was also interested in the theme of how violence is often a substitute for sexuality in the lives of adventure characters. Miller was always fascinated by BDSM (which to me, explains a lot of 300), and explicitly said in many interviews he based Elektra physically on Lisa Lyon and was a great fan of Mapplethorpe.

[cecilioque]

The Submas Designs are a lot more clever than you thought.

First lets look at the Submas overall design.  We know that the original design was intended to make the Subway Bosses look like clowns and kind of creepy (that backfired); hence the comically large shoes and exaggerated expressions. Let’s start to break down each part of the design. 

To begin, The Submas extreme expressions are a possible reference to the symbol of theatre; the mask of Tragedy and the Mask of Comedy.  The mask of tragedy is commonly portrayed frowning ( not necessarily cry) on a black base mask while the mask of Comedy is portrayed smiling on a white base masks. Sometimes these masks are gold or split black and white color.  The masks together represent the two extremes of the human psyche. Definitely the contrast we see between Emmet's smile and Ingo’s frown.

Next up, the coats.  These are obviously designed to look like train tracks.  The vertical grey lines representing the rails, the red brown the tie (the wood connecting the rails), and the buttons are the spikes that secure the track.  You can see the pattern best on the back of the Submas coat.  Looking at it you could laugh and say “I guess that makes the Subway boss themselves the train”, and you know what? You’re right.

This brings us to the most interesting part of their design, the color and pose.  Yes, there is an explanation to the silly pose too.  It’s so silly that we can just brush this whole design off as being another funny Pokemon character design; but unfortunately it’s actually thought out.  

The Submas themselves are the New York Subway. Or at least they are the personified version of it.  Let’s look at the colors again.  Black and White.  Very fitting for a game literally called Pokemon Black and White.  That alone brings us to some interesting comparisons with the game themes and pokemon.

Kudari or (Emmet in the English version) wears all white. He values routine and rules and is ultimately pretty point blank.  We can easily make that conclusion that  Emmet represents Reshiram and truth. If we break down his name we see that in Japanese it means something along the lines of “down train” or moving away/going down hill.  The different translations usually mean the same, except the name “Emmet” is a bit out of place.  A lot of people say the Submas names in English are most likely to be puns of “Ingoing and Emitting”.  But my crazy self did more digging and found that Emmet means “truth” specifically universal truth.  This name goes back to old German, Irish, and even Hebrew. All looping back to Reshiram and themes of the game. (On a funny side note, Emmet is also the Cornish word for ant; so Emmet having a Durant is really funny. ) 

Next up is Nobori or Ingo who wears a black coat and appears frowning. Despite that , his is very encouraging and excited about moving forward. This makes sense since the name Nobori in Japanese more or less means to move up/forward ( specifically up a mountain).  That’s why a lot of people believe that the poor man was eebie deebied for the pun because Warden Ingo works on Mt. Coronet. In English, Ingo is thought to be a shortened version of “Ingoing” which also aligns with not only the Japanese name but the character’s reoccurring theme of progress, moving forward, and ideals. In this sense Ingo very much represents Zekrom and ideals. 

Truth and ideals, Reshiram and Zekrom, Tragedy and comedy, white and Black.  All very good interpretations and symbolism for two funny train men. I would be satisfied with just knowing that, but no; the Submas are also a funny gijinka of the New York Subway.  This is the part the has me laughing at how simple it is and yet we just easily accepted that they were just a bit strange.

Take a look at this. This is a Zebra Board.  

Yep, it’s black and white. And do you know what? This MTA sign only appears in the New York subway.  What does it do?  These are used by conductors to indicate safety and that the train has lined up in the station. Every time the subway comes into the station, the conductor has to physically point at this board/bar to indicate that it is safe for the doors to open. The action is called "point and call" or "point and acknowledge".  This practice is used in a few other train/subway stations (such as Japan), but the black and white board is New York specific. The pose of the submas suddenly makes a lot of sense.

Other Important notes observations.

The Submas face represents the front of the train.  So their eyes are the lights (hence Ingos glowing eyes in PLA), their side burns are cow catchers ( see graphic), and the Medalion on the hat is round like a train number plate.  Another interesting thing is that the Submas use airline Captain Pilot hats like Japanese train conductors use.  The only part of their outfit that confuses me is the arm bands.  This is more of a police uniform element and not a train conductor thing.

so to conclude, the Submas are basically a reference to in game themes, Reshiram/Zekrom, Trains, and literally the New York subway

I am not an expert. These are just my observations. I could be completely wrong.  Take and add what you would like to.  If you have more to add about the design, feel free to reblog that info. I would also like to see your interpretation.

[imagine-silk]

Hello! May I request fallout 4 companions (Nick especially) with Sole who shares the bare minimum of information about themselves? Not because Sole doesn’t trust them, they really enjoy theirs companions company. Perhaps they busy themselves so they don’t have to think about all the little and big things they miss. (I bet Codsworth would find pristine things that Sole would miss (like a favorite movie, vinyl, or comic?))

Sorry if its not something you’re interested in doing right now. The ask kinda came out as a ramble, I’m lacking sleep haha. Thanks again for considering my request!

》Honestly one of my favorite kinds of characters.

【Cait】 She doesn't appreciate it. Her contract was traded to some random weirdo who barely says anything. It took three days before the topic of your name came up. And two weeks to know what you were looking for, who. But in return you don't ask what she does on her own time or what she's done. It feels like you don't mind rather than you don't care and that makes her feel seen. It stays between you unsaid in her eyes.

♡If romanced she doesn't push for any information. You'll tell her if it's important. People think it's weird the two of you to not share about yourselves like normal people but you're happy, that's all that matters.

【Codsworth】 It's just like it was before. He, unlike the others, already knows you. He knows you very well. Not only did you do an intake for daily preferences but he also served you for a few years. While you're out and about you'll do something or say something that sounds like no information to others or out of context and he'll answer, "Just as I was thinking as well." While you camp with some of the other companions he does chores the way you like without needing to ask, making comment on recent events, which makes them jealous for sure. He digs up things from the house he preserved or found and fixes them up brand new before presenting it to you. Songs you liked or wanted to hear. Movies and shows and comics. Clothes pressed for you and the furniture is redone the way it used to be. He knows you and wants to keep it that way.

【Curie】 Low-key doesn't care. She has one thing on her mind and that's her own goal to better medicine. Finding things to do that is all she needs of you. When she goes to be a synth her feelings overwhelm her and you guide her through that. She's never ever asked about you. She'll tell you about what she's feeling but never thinks to ask what you feel. In her defense, is doesn't understand the nuance of social interactions. And to her credit, it works for the both of you.

♡If she's romanced she realizes she wants to know what you feel and if it's the same as her. She's mostly interested in what you feel now rather than what your opinion is in the past or isn't currently relevant.

【Danse】 Right away he doesn't care for it. A mercenary who talks very little can be dangerous. But you followed orders well and are a damn good shot. The way he asks is more like demanding. It was all for a vetting process but still rude. After the intake he didn't care about your lack of openness. Didn't matter to him personally. After BB he suddenly regrets not knowing you. He was so rude and dismissed you as another faceless soldier and you saved him, from the Brotherhood and himself. Now he wants to know you.

♡If romanced he makes effort to know you, like really know you. For a long time he refused individuality so his own sense of self is not great. But you know yourself and make no attempt to hide it. You are so sure of yourself you don't need to explain. That's one of the things he loves about you.

【Deacon】 He thinks you're like him, that you want to hide in plain sight. As much as he gives that to you he's nosy as fuck and takes every chance to learn about you, mostly from afar. It doesn't take any time at all for him to realize you'll just tell him. Most of them are one word answers. It takes him even less time after that to realize you'll comment on things from before the war especially.

♡If romanced he goes out of his way to show you stuff. Old posters and toys. If you follow my headcanon that he's pre-war, he makes old references and generally adds comments on things to bait your answers.

【Hancock】 He thinks it's pretty cool. "Oh, tall, dark, and handsome/beautiful." He does play twenty questions with you 24/7 and is very happy with your half-answers because an answer is still an answer. Plus he knows at least two other people like you. He is the one who figures out that you just don't have the time or think about talking about yourself rather than purposely keeping secrets the fastest. He knows people so he knows better.

♡If romanced he plays with it. You want a kiss? Tell him what's your favorite color. He'll get on his knees if you tell him what you like about your new home. But honestly he'll do it anyways. All he needs to know is that you want him like he wants you.

【MacCready】 He was more concerned about you putting a bullet in his head while his back was turned. Everyone in the Commonwealth was looking out for number one. So imagine his surprise when you were looking out for your number one and it wasn't you. Not only were you looking for your son but you stopped to help every person who asked for help. Your actions spoke to him in a way your words, he figured, couldn't. You didn't need to help him but you did. You didn't take the caps back. And you killed the gunners the second they turned their guns on him even when they said their beef wasn't with you. It was what you did, not what you told him.

♡If romanced he will ask things. Basic ones are like, "How was your day?" Normal questions that are the peak of domestic life. Then the more personal things. Some sound silly, "What's your favorite color?" But most build off of a quick thing you said in passing, "Wait, you've been to California? What was it like?" He trusts you'll tell him the truth.

【Nick】 As a private detective this simply won't do. He gets it at first, you just need him to find your son, it's business. However, you want him to stay with you after that. It confuses him because you made no indication you like him in the slightest way. He's the second fastest to realize you're not keeping to yourself on purpose. As one of the only ones who are pre-war he's able to get things the others can't. He'll talk about things and give his options and bait you into answering it. That was a common way to get people to talk back then when you were trying to be polite and keep up the conversation, even if the conversation stays a bit thin.

♡If he's romanced he makes fun of the fact you forget to say things about yourself. Don't get it wrong, he makes it clear you don't need to share. He's just poking fun.

【Piper】 This simply won't do. She asks as many question as they come up but she gets depressing short answers. You either give one word answers or say you're not really in the mood, on some occasions you admit you don't know, you never thought about it. It takes a long time for her to stop and that's only because the questions start getting old. And you still feel like a mystery even though you've told her everything.

♡If she's romanced she realizes how much you've told her and pushes it. What is your type? How do your lips feel? Why do you look so good? It becomes playful and light, never serious.

【Preston】 In the beginning he didn't realize he didn't know much about you. He took your help selfishly to get him and his people back on stable ground but you told him you were happy to help. So he takes time to learn about you and give you everything he could possibly help you with. In hopes you would share by yourself he gives things to you without any prompt. It doesn't really work most of the time.

♡If romanced he asks things with hearts in his eyes. He is so lovesick he takes all of your half-answers and files it away in his mind. It hardly matters at that point.

【X6】 It wasn't his mission so he didn't care. You owed him no explanation or justification. Doesn't mean he doesn't question you. He asks why you helped someone, why you stopped for a distraction. And of course you give short answers like, "They needed help." or "I wanted to." Later, after the Institute is gone, he sees how you carry yourself and tries to copy it. Obviously he can't so you help him too. You showed him he can figure himself out by himself and he didn't need you. So he held the same opinion; he doesn't need to know you like that.

♡If romanced he's still comfortable with you keeping things to yourself. It's only after months of being together do you realize he's never asked you a personal question, that you've never shared anything that personal. When you bring that to him he tells you that hardly matters. But seeing you make the effort after that gives him a feeling he can't describe. It's a good feeling he thinks.

[honey-flustered]

can i request mirror sex with eddie and wayne hears banging and barges in and talks to you guys about protection

A/N: Apologies for the long wait, love. But I’m here and slowly getting my writing mojo back. I hope you enjoy!

Wrap it Up! (MDNI+18)

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: smut, mirror sex, graphic language and descriptions, sex standing up, getting caught, creampie (cum gets everywhere), awkward conversations about (sex, pregnancy, protection), Eddie & Reader 18+, some humor, fluff

Despite Eddie’s lean frame, underneath that hellfire club T-shirt was all muscle and you have the perfect advantage to study every ripple and bulge. You’re eyes are hazy but intense as you stare at the image before you in the full body mirror: Eddie’s back, slick with sweat, flexes with every stroke into your sopping core as he fucks you standing up. The muscles rippling in his cute little ass was enough to pull one hand away from his hair to cup it.

Wayne invited you over for dinner as he did every night. And sometimes on the days when he’d have to go shopping for groceries, Eddie would occasionally stay over to “prepare the ingredients” but really it’s just an excuse to have you over his place earlier so that the two of you could fool around. Hence, why now you were in this position discovering your new mirror kink.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whine in his ear then bite on the soft lobe.

“You feel fucking incredible, baby,” His hoarse, raspy gasp into your ear causes you clench tighter around him and he hisses. “You’re killing me.”

“Want you to cum in me. Please, daddy.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said says knocking against the magic button within you. “You’re on birth control now?”

“No. But I can take a Plan B. I just want to feel your cum in me. Want it dripping down my legs.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” His nails dig into the soft, plushness of your ass as he pounds into you harder and faster, the sounds of your wetness and bodies colliding fill the room. It’s loud and so were you as you groan a throat-tearing groan at being filled so deliciously over and over.

He bends a little at the knee, throwing you up in his arms enough so that he can get your legs in a position where your feet are beside his ears, the anklet he’d given you on your first year anniversary dangling near the left one. The new position allows him to drill into your greedily suctioning pussy deeper and you thought you were loud the last time. You were screaming as if you were in a goddamn horror movie and he’s just staring you down fiercely wanting to elicit more sounds out of you. Your eyes dart back to the mirror nearly cumming at the sight alone.

Feeling himself about to reach his climax, he climbs into the bed on his knees with him still nuzzled inside you for the final strokes. The backs of your knees now hooked around his shoulders as he curls into you enough to bounce you in his lap and suck and twirl a tongue around one of your hardened peaks.

“Oh my god,” You whine. With one hand still across your slick back guiding you up and down his length, he brings the other between your bodies to massage your swollen clitoris. “I’m gonna fucking cum for you!” Sobbing with legit real hot tears streaming down your face, your orgasm slams into you like a fucking bus and your gushing all over him and you. His unruly public hairs matter down by your creamy arousal. He intensifies your high, slamming into your g-spot and not once giving you a break to cope. You dig your nails into him, the whites of your eyes are all he could see.

“Gonna cum, baby. Ready to take it.”

As if you could speak! You babble and cry out in response. He slams you down once…twice…three times and just as he’s about to fill you up—

“Edward Munson, you know how to work this damn pho-Jesus Christ!” Wayne Munson, coming home from a long trip to the store, expected to walk into his nephew’s room seeing him do anything from playing his guitar to reading one of his comics. What he hadn’t expected was not only had Eddie not set up the table for dinner but he finds Eddie doing you.

Eddie’s horrified that despite thinking that the intrusion was enough to stop his climax it was already too late. His orgasm raked through him forcing himself to bite on his lip to keep from whimpering as he spurts ropes of his warm cum into your inviting gummy channel. But you jump out of his grasp as fast as it happened, forcing his essence to coat anything in close proximity.

Wayne has long averted his eyes before this point, raising his hands out over his face. “Dear god! You could’ve at least put up a sock or something, boy.”

“Oh my god!” You find a throw blanket beside you to bury yourself in.

“Wayne!” Eddie shouts, shoving his exposed cock down between his legs. “What the hell are you doing here so early? Didn’t you have to run like a bunch of errands and shit?”

“I just needed to get some wine and cigarettes, ya nut. Just gather yourselves whenever you’re ready.” He blindly searches for the doorknob and shuts the door.

“Holy shit,” You throw the blanket off of you, standing to go in search of your clothes around the room. “How am I going to face him now after he’s seen us like that?”

“It’s not like he doesn’t know we’ve been having sex.”

“This is different! This is him actually seeing it for himself. I can never look him in the eyes again,” You reach for your panties thrown on his dresser, hoisting up and over you. “I should go home.”

“No, please stay. We can act as if nothing ever happened.”

“How? I’ll be burning up with embarrassment the moment I see him.” You groan and flop down on his bed, your face down on his pillow.

“Long as we don’t speak of it, it’ll blow over,” Eddie says, looking down at the trickle of his cum between your legs and the mess he made all over himself. “We don’t say a word about this even outside this trailer.”

You chuckle, wanting to lighten the mood. You ran a finger on one of his painted thighs, scooping up the thick white substance. “I don’t know. I think your friends would love to hear about your little mess even after getting caught.”

“You’re a menace.”

————

Throughout, preparation of the dinner neither you nor Eddie said anything. Not even to each other. Simply, hanging your heads low while he prepares the table and you spiced up the sauce for the pasta. Wayne is also occupied with his own chore of tending to the pasta and making no efforts to speak as well, avoiding all eye contact. It was an overall awkward affair for all parties.

At the dinner table, the three of you ate in silence. Eddie, rubbing a hand on your knee as you continued to blush profusely and hang your head low.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it since we’ve already found ourselves in this awkward position,” Wayne says, throwing down his glass to break the silence. “In the countless times I’ve had to clean up your room, never once have I noticed a condom wrapper. So my question is, do ya wear protection?”

Eddie chokes on his drink. “Dude!”

“What? It’s a valid question. As my responsibility as your legal guardian, I should’ve had this talk with you long ago. So, it’s on me. But if the two of you are going to engage in these…activities, you should at least be safe,” Wayne says, carrying the tone of a concerned parent. “So how do ya do it?”

“Do what?” Eddie asks in hesitance, dreading the upcoming next set of questions.

“Prevent pregnancy. Birth control? Morning After Pills? Pull out method?” Wayne probes.

“I cannot believe this is my life right now.”

“Don’t shy away now, Eds? You’re a man now and you’ve gotta have these grown man conversations.”

“Mr. Munson’s right, Eddie,” You speak up, bringing your eyes up for the first time in the entire night. “We have been a little…risky.”

Wayne nods. “Having a child is a huge responsibility. I would know. I took Eddie in when I was pretty young myself. And you’re starting university soon, Y/n. On a full-ride. I’m sure that’s not something you see for yourself as of now. This isn’t to come down hard on y’all. Again, I was young once. But please for the love of God, use some form of contraceptive and learn to lock a goddamn door.”

“Okay, yeah we will.” Eddie affirms.

“Yes.” You agree.

“Good. Let’s shake off the tension now. I’ve already erased whatever that was from my memory so you two can stop acting like you’re walking on eggshells.”

The three of you join in laughter and move into conversation aside from the embarrassing moment. Although, later on that night while you were busy collecting the plates from the table, in one instance of a proud uncle moment, Wayne secretly gestures Eddie for a fist-bump. Eddie mischievously smiles and obliges.

[kairiscorner]

ok but like when you get angry with him and you're a whole foot (or two) shorter than him, it gets comical.

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"you're haphazard, you don't think before you act–face it, you're a liability. even mayday's got more discipline in her little pinky than you do in your whole body." he said as he crossed his arms over his chest as he glared down at you with an unamused face. you scoffed and smiles sarcastically at him.

"i'm haphazard? a liability? i'm literally one of the best ones on the team, you're gonna accuse me of being a screw up?" you asked him as miguel pinched his nose bridge and sighed. "your methods were uncalled for, they were messy and crude. your mind is stuck in kindergarten it seems, you're so immature." miguel muttered through gritted teeth, and that was the final straw for you.

you were sick of not being taken seriously by him when everyone else was cool with you, you knew miguel wasn't here to make friends, and you didn't care, you were okay without being his friend. but when he's out here nitpicking every little thing you did and finding faults in all your hard work. "listen here, you..." you seethed as you walked over to him and pressed your pointer finger against his... abdomen.

you sighed as you went over to the corner and picked up a chair, it was slow since you had shorter legs, but you refused to let miguel have his way. you came back in a huff as you set the chair down and got on top of it, now able to dig your finger on miguel's chest.

"...i have been working just as hard as you and everyone else here has. i pick up my own slack and make things work when your way is clearly not the best way all the time. now i'd appreciate it if you'd just shove your insults up your ass for once and take me seriously!" you exclaimed angrily, heaving once you were done.

miguel eyes you up and down, with you still much shorter than he was. "so you really had to get a chair to prove a point?" he asked you condescendingly as he raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes not leaving his gaze on you once. you groaned and started stomping your feet on the chair out of frustration, muttering angrily how miguel was such a patronizing, self-absorbed bastard. miguel grabbed your cheeks with his hand and gently moved your head to make eye contact with him.

"you really are immature. but certainly... witty with your plans on how to get your way. this was a very adorable act of defiance, muy bien. chiquita." he said with a smirk as your eyes got bigger and a flusteredness filled your face at the sound of miguel... praising you for your stubbornness. he really liked you this way, and you being much tinier than him made him way too fond of you despite you not being the most organized or put-together member of the team.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @arachnoia @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0

[techlove-1999]

ok, so… securitrons move around with One Big Tire. while it gives their design a pretty memorable Staple, its… well, realistically it would be TERRIBLE 4 balance…!!! while a big tire like that on its Own could probably balance just fine, we of course have a Big (Cute) Bulky Robot that’s gonna be Fucking with its Center of Mass, kind of like a heavy unicycle!! so i have 2 wonder how they do it so well ingame…!! obviously it could be explained through cartoon physics or something like that… but i wanna dig a bit Deeper than that. i love securitrons too much 2 just write it off anyhow…^_^ so lets solve the mystery of how these things can balance so good!!!

now.. it could be that securitrons are specifically coded 2 know how 2 Balance themselves, or have some kind of mechanic that keeps them from Toppling Over every time they want 2 stop moving or stay Still. it could be possible that they have a sort of special Locking Mechanism that keeps their tire from making them roll away…? however this does Not solve the problem of the robot’s center of mass!! because even if the tire is locked in place, the Weight of the securitron’s body will still, well… make it tip over!!

so i propose an Idea. what if the securitrons center of mass. is actually a lot Lower than it may seem from their build. stay with me here, ok…? ok…

obviously house is too much of a Haughty Smarty Pants or something like that 2 just have written off or ignore this issue. in fact- the way securitrons ingame can effortlessly balance is a testament 2 this fact!! so what did he do 2 let the securitrons actually balance…?

its is My Opinion that securitrons must have their center of mass Lower in their bodies. this would make it Much easier 4 them 2 actually balance themselves as we see in new vegas!! if i had 2 guess where Specifically, i’d say somewhere as shown in This Simple Graphic…

since the part housing the Screen is the bulkiest part of the chassis, you would Typically expect that 2 be the center of mass… however, with it being So High Up on the body, it would cause the robot 2 fall over!!! crash!!! ow!!! @_@

however… if the center of mass is Below that part, in the “waist” area per se, then the robot won’t have as much of a discrepancy in weight distribution. it wont be as Top Heavy, allowing the entire machine 2 stay standing!!

now as 4 How exactly the center of weight would realistically be in the waist area, i’d have 2 say its probably something 2 do with how the Functions of the parts affect how theyd be Built, if that makes any sense... the lower waist area is where the Wheel connects 2 the rest of the body, so the part where it connects is most likely More Fortified so it doesn’t Come Apart, especially considering the amount of Movement that part would have 2 put up with, so it should there4 be using Stronger/More Material so it doesn’t Wear Down so easily. perhaps the material in that area is pretty thick, making it heavy!!

as 4 the part Above that however… we can see its made up of the same material as the Arms, and from securitron movement and idle animations, we see its somewhat Flexible from the way it Bounces!! perhaps theres a comically large spring inside? or perhaps a multitude of springs that allow the chassis 2 Bounce in the way it does? (leaving that outside bit as the only thing letting it bounce would be a bit Stupid, really… there would be Zero support 4 the chassis and it would just always be Crushing the thing…!!!) so perhaps those springs are quite heavy, as they’d have 2 be Strong and there4 pretty Big and Thick so they dont snap inside of the body!

of course this is all just Speculation, as we dont 4 sure know what the inside of one of these cuties looks like. maybe one day we’ll get a good look at the inner workings of a securitron, but until we know that, all we have 2 rely on is the power of Headcanon!! so i could be spot on, or i could be way off. who knows!! maybe theyre powered by cartoon bullshittery 4 real!!!

id really love 2 hear Other People’s ideas and thoughts on this too… i am not an Expert on Robotics by a Long Shot, even if i do love them with my Whole Heart… im just some sillyguy giving its two cents on a cute robot!! so if anyone has different or cooler interpretations on how securitrons can balance, i would love 2 hear them!!

also… thank you 4 reading my speculations as well in the First Place… it honestly means a Whole Lot 2 me whenever people enjoy the stuff i put out here 4 fun, so thank you thank you Thank You 4 taking the time 2 enjoy my silly little works...!!! (seriously everyone leaves the sweetest stuff in the tags and it makes me want 2 Cry Tears Of Joy. who let you all be so kind and wonderful.)

[the-descolada]

Spoiler-Free Advance Review:

Exordia by Seth Dickinson

I could not put this book down, my god. Staying up super late multiple nights because I couldn’t stop reading is such a great problem to have, and Exordia gave me that problem more than any book I’ve read in a few years.

This is a very different book than Baru, but Seth’s evocative prose and dark humor is familiar from page one, and the laser focus on defamiliarizing real world injustices is again the core of the work. Despite being far more immediate (Exordia is set during the Obama administration in our world, with an alternate history beginning from the moment the book starts), the heaviness of the topics never gets overwhelming. There’s some incredible (and extremely fitting) tonal dissonance here, with every perspective character having their own sense of disaffected humor about the apocalyptic situation they’ve been thrown into.

I described this to my friend after just starting as “if the Books of Sorrow were written with Gideon the Ninth’s tone and just straight up in our world,” and I think that remains true throughout. There’s a huge amount of references peppered in, and it helps maintain that lighter tone to balance the despair of what is essentially a doomsday clock ticking down throughout the book - and it helps keep things grounded, honestly. I never felt it took away from the gravity of things, or was unnatural - after all, if I, an early 21st century sci fi nerd, was thrown into some fucked up alien bioweapon mystery, it’s hard to say my first thought wouldn’t be “oh shit, this is just like the Andromeda Strain!”

Having seven (eight?) different protagonist (or deuteragonist, I don’t know which they qualify as) PoVs is pretty wild but works perfectly here. Every character has such a unique outlook that you can instantly figure out whose head you’ve popped into even before any identifying names or things are mentioned - Seth’s mastery of the tonally cohesive PoV shifts was something I had loved in Tyrant, especially, and they’re equally impressive here. The characters are lovable, hatable, and everything in between - and each as mentioned is so distinct and compelling that I can’t say there was a single character who I was unhappy to get into their head. And that’s saying something, given who some of these characters are, but I’ll leave the specifics a surprise. Predictably, my favorites were the dysfunctional autistic butch-femme lesbians, but I really loved all of them in the end.

The base premise is almost comical in how small it starts to how much it escalates - a cynical, disillusioned Kurdish genocide survivor, Anna Sinjari, meets a terrifying (and yes…very hot. I’m a simple woman) alien in Central Park, and this seemingly chance encounter sees her roped into a small group of scientists, soldiers, and her own mother in a desperate countdown to solve an otherworldly mystery and save their world. The twists and turns of the plot are intense, so engaging that I was bouncing up and down at times (there’s plenty of sci-fi insanity that I absolutely eat up), and tightly paced.

Seth seems to really enjoy writing ethical dilemmas to great effect, and Exordia is ruthless in that area, taking the base concept of the trolley problem and the moral justification for what someone would sacrifice for the greater good and carving it apart for narrative weight. What greater good does the sacrifice serve? Is it actually good? Who gets to make the choice, and do they have a choice but to make it? There’s a lot to dig into here, and Exordia is a four course meal.

One aspect of this simply taking place in our world, rather than being an alternate universe like Baru, is that the defamiliarized commentary is even more on the nose. Whereas Baru is a commentary on empire and homophobia as a whole, transparently pulling from primarily American history of genocide and imperialism to shape a culture unlike our own in many ways to defamiliarize this moral exploration, Exordia is just literally about real world American imperialism and enabling of genocide in the MENA region, primarily the ramifications of the military industrial complex’s usage of drone warfare and the extremist regimes armed and encouraged by “counterterrorism.”

All this sets the stage for the question of what happens when a bigger fish arrives, one just as hell bent on empire building and justifying its own atrocities. The sci-fi intervention into this banal evil is at the same time a reflection of that evil, and asking if the world has the capacity for resistance to both. Exordia’s answer is profound, and far from easy, but entirely fitting for the ethical dilemma that runs throughout the book, creeping up on you slowly as you start to recognize what shape it takes in this story.

The central material conflict of the book, a locked box mystery of sorts that you piece together with the characters, is fucked up and fun and scary, a reality shifting threat that treads the line between body horror, meta-narrative, and lovecraftian math. It’s extremely cool, and I think it’ll be right up the alley of fans of The Andromeda Strain, The Locked Tomb, The Books of Sorrow and other parts of Destiny lore, and a lot of other SFF stories where ethics, horror, and mystery mix together.

I don’t want to say too much about the climax and the ending - going into this book without knowing too much was an incredible experience that had me on the edge of my proverbial seat - but the ending left me asking myself some very similar questions as I had at the end of Traitor, and I cannot wait for a reread when the physical book is in my hands to see what little foreshadowed things I can pick up on.

I don’t think people are going to be quite as completely emotionally Destroyed at the ending of this one as Traitor, but…it is very much a Seth Dickinson book, and they have quite the talent for making every thread tie together at the end to make the reader feel every emotion at once and realize that this could never have gone any other way. I cried, I laughed, sometimes simultaneously, and a book that can do that to me is entirely worth the experience - and what an experience this was.

Absolutely fucking incredible, I want more of these characters and everything they’re wrapped up in, 10/10.

I received an ARC of this novel from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

[pisspope]

been writing this off and on for about a month and now im finally... finally finished

Waffle House Hashbrowns (Smothered & Covered)

reiner x reader

cw: afab reader, fem reader (wears skirt, gets called a good girl) softdom reiner, spit kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, mdni

"You want me to what?"

"You heard me. I want you to spit on me next time we have sex."

Reiner is bamboozled, flabbergasted, stupefied. Him? Spit on you? The person he loves most on this earth? Why would he do that?

"You must be joking."

"No, I'm not. I think it'd be really hot."

Reiner blinks twice, slowly. This makes no sense. "But why would I do that?"

You sigh, sit up on your shared bed. "Because I want you to and it's sexy? If it makes you uncomfortable we don't have to."

Reiner swallows hard, feeling backed into a corner of his own creation. He wants to please you in every way possible, and that means never degrading or disrespecting you. But if the only way to please you is to degrade you, well, he can't exactly say no. He touches your arm, gently keeping you in place. "No, I'll do it. I'll do it for you."

You laugh lightly, move your other hand to lay on top of his. "You don't need to be so serious about this, Rei. It's supposed to be fun!"

"Sorry," he says, hanging his head. "Just have trouble. You know I never want to make you feel lesser. You... you mean everything to me."

You pout a little without thinking. He's so sweet sometimes it borders on saccharine. You turn to him, bring all of him that will fit into your smaller frame into a tight hug. "I know how you feel, baby. That's... kind of why I want to try this with you. Because I trust you. I know you won't do anything I don't feel comfortable with."

He digs his chin into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his cheeks burning. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, let you know without a doubt that he's wrapped around your finger, but the second you reciprocate he's a mess. "I said I'll do it. No need to make me cry about it."

You chuckle, knowing that's not just an empty threat. Ever since he confessed his feelings, he's let everything show right on his sleeve, letting you into his inner world without a second thought. "All right, start getting hydrated." You pull away, run a hand through his hair. "I just know your spit is salty from all those peanuts."

He looks shocked, face in a comical 'o'. "What do you mean? I've barely touched the container in the pantry."

"Yeah? And what about the empty one in the trashcan?"

You watch the blush rush up from the line of his t-shirt to his cheeks. Busted. He looks away, defeated. "I'll go fill up my water bottle."

---

It was your normal weekend routine: wake up, run errands that couldn't be done during the work week, come home and get ready for your date night, have a great time with your man, profit. Only your profit margins tonight? Exponential, unprecedented gains.

Reiner's hands are exploring every inch of you the second the front door is closed, keys flung to the floor, leftovers all but forgotten on a side table.

"Can't wait to get you in bed," he murmurs, breath hot on the bare skin of your shoulder. "Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

You almost want to giggle, because this is so unlike him, to be so domineering and borderline possessive, but you're too into it to break the tension. He's trying something new for you, and you're as grateful as you are turned on. Before you can encourage him to keep going, he's swung you back into his arms fully, head close enough to his chest that you can feel the erratic beating of his heart.

And Reiner's nothing if not a man of his word. He picks you up bridal style, one arm doing most of the heavy lifting around your shoulders, while the other grips firmly into the meat of your ass. He ascends the stairs to your shared bedroom on muscle memory, his eyes too busy drinking you in to give mind to much else.

"So beautiful," he whispers, like he can't help himself. He hesitates on the top step, bringing you down to rest your bottom on the bend of his knee. He uses the added support to lean his head down, catching your lips in a deep kiss. "And all mine."

It only takes a few more steps before you're at the foot of your bed, and Reiner hesitates. He chuckles nervously, dances from one foot to the other. "I, uh, forgot to take my shoes off," he breathes, and you realize you're in the same predicament. "Just got too caught up in it."

Before you can assure him that it's fine, it's okay, his mouth is on yours. He's kissing you like he's starved for it, hands dancing excitedly at your waist, your shoulders, your breasts, anywhere he can touch. A well-timed squeeze of your inner thigh forces a small moan from your throat, and he takes that opportunity to plunge his tongue into you, tasting and exploring further. His knee pushes your legs open while he attacks your mouth, grinding lightly against you, just enough to tease.

You look up at him and laugh lightly, adjusting in his arms to kick off your shoes. The two of you had gone to a local restaurant in nicer outfits, but it certainly wasn't a black tie affair. Blouse and skirt for you, button-up and jeans for him. He lays you down gently, toes off his loafers and pushes them under the bed, always the gentleman.

"Sorry," he mutters, wasting no time in clambering on top of you. "Don't want to track mud in the house."

He breaks the kiss to come up for air, a trail of spit connecting your mouths. He glances at it, then smiles at you, eyes hooded. "This what you were talking about?"

You nod up at him, too love drunk to speak. "More," you manage to breathe out, hands snaking up his arms to rest on his shoulderblades, familiar and comfortable.

His smile morphs into a smirk, and those deep golden eyes go dark. "Greedy," he whispers, face impossibly close. He brings a hand to your cheek, caresses it with a feather light touch, before bringing his thumb to your lower lip and pulling your mouth open. "You'll take what I give you."

He leans down like he's going to kiss your open mouth, but instead he sucks in his cheeks, puckers his lips, and slowly lets the spit that coats his mouth drool into your own. With his lips in your mouth and his thumb holding you open, you have no choice but to take it, its warmth pooling and spreading into every corner of you. It's not spitting on you per se, but it is unbearably intimate. Exactly what you'd expect from a man like Reiner.

He breaks away again, taking that same thumb and hand to force your mouth closed. "Swallow," he orders. You comply without a second thought, throat bobbing as you take it all into you. Reiner can't help the little moan that leaves him, seeing you so obedient and hazy-eyed from just the taste of him. He's gonna lose his mind. He can barely huff out a "good girl" as he's unbuttoning your blouse.

And for someone who usually relinquishes all control to you in the bedroom, Reiner is remarkably good at this. Blouse removed, he pulls up your bra and dives for your breasts, licking and sucking and making lewd noises you seldom hear from him. His hands circle around your back, unhooking your bra with the dexterity of a professional. Which, with how much he lavishes over your boobs, may as well be the truth.

Without thinking you respond in kind, bringing your hands up to his collar and working your way down. His blond chest hair peeks out around button four, and you have to resist the urge to grab him by it and pull him close, to devour him in even more open mouthed kisses.

Not tonight. You remind yourself. He's in control.

Breasts now fully freed, he takes one in his mouth and brings his hand to play with the other. He's always been good at this, knows when to pinch and suck and fondle and which spots hit just right, but tonight is different. He's using his tongue more, applying pressure to your nipples and taking as much of you in his mouth as he can. Leaving large open mouthed kisses up and down your chest, pulling away and leaving circles of spit in his wake. He's not just giving your breasts some extra attention; he's smothering them in his saliva, marking them as his own.

And apparently this is something he intends to rectify immediately. With one hand still massaging your breast, the other lifts up the hem of your skirt, revealing your lacy underwear that you had worn just for the occasion. "Oh, baby," he coos at the sight. "Did you get all dolled up just for me?"

The realization alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, but when he works his way back up to plant a kiss on the shell of your ear and call you his pretty girl, well. You can't help the desperate whine that escapes you. He pulls back to look down at you, lips red and puffy from overuse.

"That good, huh?" He says, voice cocky but expression still so gentle, still so him. "I haven't even touched you yet. I mean really touched you."

You nod, trying not to blush at his honeyed words. He's always loved to praise you in bed, to call you pretty and sweet and all manner of compliments, but the tone tonight is so different. It's not the kind affirmations of an attentive lover, it's the reading of your rights, the growl of a predator circling its prey. And maybe if it were someone else it would scare you, but with Reiner all it does is send a fierce heat straight to your core.

Gently, delicately, he hooks two fingers around the middle of your panties and brings them down, and he can't suppress his groan when he feels the slick that coats the inside. "You're so wet for me. How long have you been like this?"

You look away, embarrassed. "Since we left for our date. I've kind of been looking forward to this."

He chuckles at your confession as he slides your underwear the rest of the way down. "Well," he starts, stowing your panties away in the back pocket of his jeans. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze. "You have so far."

"Good," he says firmly, pulling your legs apart farther with both hands. "Let's try to keep up that momentum."

Without another word, Reiner ducks down to the heat of your cunt, flattening his tongue and licking a thick stripe from your hole to your clit. You moan at the sensation, bring your hand to his head on instinct. But he isn't having that, and swats your hand away with a growl, the low rumble vibrating in all the right ways. He brings his head up, eyes dark and serious, the stain of your precum already wetting his beard.

"No, princess," he says it with stern authority, but makes it a point to bring his right hand to intertwine with yours. "I'm in charge."

He returns to eating you out with an animalistic hunger, working his tongue in between your folds while the sharp bridge of his nose keeps a constant pressure on your aching clit. One hand is still laced in yours while the other rubs small circles around your labia, running up your inner thigh and back down. Reiner is pleasuring you, make no mistake, but the moans that leave his body as he ravishes your insides with his wet muscle assure you that the feeling is mutual.

"Taste so good," you both hear and feel him say, the prickle of his facial hair equally ticklish and arousing. "Want you to cum on my face."

He brings his fingers out of his mouth slowly, with a wet pop, looking annoyed. "I'm sorry," he says sarcastically, leaning down so his head hovers above you. "I thought you wanted my spit, sweetheart. Are you sure yours will do?"

He pulls away after that, causing you to whine at the lost contact. How were you supposed to do what he asked under these conditions? But then you see him take three of his own fingers in his mouth, licking and sucking on them like they're heavensent.

"Reiiii," you whine out, missing his touch. "I can do that for you, c'mon. Lemme taste you, pleaseeeee."

You nod quickly, just wanting his familiar heat back, his taste, his touch, anything. And maybe Reiner's too soft on you, but he relents, sliding those same fingers in your mouth and letting you have your way with them. You take them in greedily, the taste of his skin and spit melding in your mouth deliciously. He should probably do something now, praise you for how good you take him or rub small circles on your clit, but all he can do is stare. At you, so blissed out on just the taste of him, eyes closed and enjoying every sensation. This must be love, he thinks.

Satisfied, you release his fingers from your mouth, pretend you don't notice his eyes boring into you. "Thank you," you breathe, moving his sopping fingers to the bud of your clit. "Please."

Since you asked so nicely, and also because he wants to, needs to touch you, he does as you ask, massaging that bundle of nerves in a way that makes you writhe. A wanton moan leaves your lips, a sound that he can't wait to snatch with his own mouth, kissing you deeply as his fingers dance in perfect rhythm. You can taste yourself in him, can feel the moistness of your own pre on the itch of his stubble. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating.

Soon, you feel that same hand start to drift lower down, two fingers circling around your hole teasingly. You squirm under his delicate touch, a motion that causes him to break away from the haven of your mouth. He looks down at you, eyes dark and analytical, thinking. Maybe this is where he's supposed to punish you for being so bad, supposed to degrade and deride you for your naughty behavior, but he just can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he furrows his brows and ducks back down to your heat, licking around your entrance and peppering your thighs in tiny kisses. And just when you're about to beg for more, for him to just give you what you need please, he plunges two fingers and his tongue deep into you, working everything he has in tandem to bring you to an insurmountable high.

"Reiner," you breathe, a whispered plea to the man below you who is making you come undone with every thrust of his thick fingers, every pulse of his tongue. He's just so fucking good at this. "Reiner, I, fuck, so good."

He hums in approval, stares you down over the slope of your mound, looking hungry and desperate. "C'mon, pretty girl," he growls into you, the pace of his fingers increasing rapidly. "Cum for me baby."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue returns to your core, fingers curling and hitting the spot that makes you scream every time. He's finger fucking you at a breakneck pace, the wet schlick, schlick, schlick sound of his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy licks and sucks of his lips and tongue. The lewd noises are all you can hear, all you can focus on, and it sends you careening towards your release. You cry out, feeling yourself clench around his thick fingers, vision going white. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, mouth glued to the lips of your heat, slurping and moaning as he swallows every last drop of your cum. Your head lolls back as you work through every sensation, lost in the depths of unadulterated pleasure.

When you finally get back down to earth, you're almost sent back into the stratosphere by the sight in front of you. Reiner, with his lips pursed, eyes wide and dark, chest heaving, gripping onto your knee with one hand as he undoes his belt with the other. His skin is beaded with sweat, his golden chest hair clumping and curling up in places where your cum has dried, his beard hair glinting with more of the same. He looks like a Greek god, honey eyes raking over you like you're his concubine, his sacrifice.

You sigh, taking him all in as he unbuttons his jeans and shrugs them off along with his boxers. His cock springs out like it's fucking hydraulic, slapping against the bare skin of his stomach and leaking precum onto his navel. It looks so damn needy, the tip so red its verging on purple, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle a moan just at thought of it being in you.

He looks down at you, mouth still closed, and it leaves you a little confused. Shouldn't he say something right about now, about how he can't wait to fuck you stupid, can't wait to feel you cumming around him? It's only when he leans over you, lining up at your entrance, and spits your own slick onto your stomach that you realize why. "Oh, fuck, Reiner," you groan out, completely involuntarily. He smirks at the exclamation, rubs a hand over the wet spot, covering you further in his spit and your cum.

"You like this?" he asks, already knowing the answer. "You like being smothered in my spit? Like being marked? Like, ugh, knowing who you belong to?" He slides into you slow as he speaks, still gripping one of your knees to keep himself from falling apart, from just letting himself go and pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Yes, fuck, God, yes, I do," you reply, hoping it'll motivate him to keep this going. It's so rare for him to talk to you like this, so possessive and so filthy, it never fails to drive you wild. You claw your hands into the sheets as you take every thick inch of his shaft, ecstatic at the feeling of him bottoming out, tip already brushing against your cervix. "Feels s' good Rei."

"Good, good," he drawls, trying to respond but overcome by the waves of pleasure starting to thrum around him. He leans down, rests his head into the crook of your neck and starts rocking into you slow and steady, suckling at your neck gently. "You feel good too baby. Can't believe this pussy is, mm, all mine. Can't believe you're all mine."

His eyes go wide and he smiles, pure and genuine. "Oh, thank God," he sighs, sitting up and immediately pulling your legs up to his ears for better access. "I figured I should wait for you to beg but I need you so bad honey you have no idea."

He keeps this pace for a while, gives you space to breathe between every determined thrust, holding your head in his hand while he gives you a hickey that will be impossible to cover up. His stomach slides against yours as he pushes into you, causing the spit and slick to crust and dry, a reminder with each movement of the way he's marked you. And it's unbearably hot, practically a fantasy come true, but you need more.

"Reiner," you murmur, waiting for him to retreat from the comfort of your neck to look you in the eye. "Fuck me? Please?"

He absolutely fucks into you after that, setting a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. He uses one hand to hold up one of your legs, the other pushed into the mattress beside your head, taking every bit of leverage he can to fuck you as hard and as deep as possible. The whole bed groans and creaks under the pressure of his thrusts, and you sympathize with moans and cries of your own. You reach a hand out to Reiner, hoping to ground yourself with his touch, but he shakes his head, opting instead to push your knees up and thrust into you even deeper than before.

"Look at you," he huffs out, every word punctuated by another jab of his cock. "All fucked out for me. You really are all mine, aren't you?"

Finally grabbing onto his arm, you whine and bob your head, already knowing what he's going to ask. "Go ahead," you rasp out, trying to keep it together. "Cum in me, Reiner."

You nod, tears prickling at your eyes from the rampant pleasure washing over you. You don't trust yourself to speak right now, you know all that will come out are broken cries and pleas for him to keep going. Instead you watch him with hungry eyes, rapt attention all on him as his thrusts become sloppy and messy, his own golden eyes struggling to stay focused.

"I-" he swallows, trying to keep composed through it all. "I've made you mine, marked you every way I can. Except one."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He presses into you hard and fast, chasing his high with cries of your name, a sound so filled with need it sends you tumbling towards your own release. You feel his white hot seed shoot into you in spurts, every rope of his cum a sign of his possession of you, inside and out. It's ecstasy.

Eventually, his hips still, and he looks to you, mouth open and eyes wide. "Was, uh," he breathes out, trying to collect himself. "Was that what you were thinking of? Did I do okay?"

He smiles, brings your other hands to his lips and catches your knuckles in a chaste kiss. "I think," he pauses, trying to find the right words. "I liked it too."

You laugh despite yourself, because of course it was okay, it was way better than okay. You bring him close to you, both of you soft and pliable after the workout, and he quickly gets comfortable with his head on your chest.

"That was amazing, sweetheart." you say, kissing the top of his head, fingers playing in the loose strands stuck to his forehead. "Thank you so much."

You snort, a little derisive. "You came a lot for someone who only 'thinks' they liked it."

Reiner blushes, buries his face in-between your breasts. "Okay," he says, muffled. "I liked it a lot."

He beams at you, absolutely fucking radiant, like you hung the moon and the stars, then scoots up to kiss you once on the lips, deeply. "I love you, Y/N."

You smile wide, feel it stretching the corners of your cheeks. How dare he cum in you like a dog in heat and then immediately act like the cutest dopiest baby in the world.

"Hey," you mutter, blushing at the way he looks up at you. "I bought you more peanuts."

"I love you too, Reiner."

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Cat’s 3K Series

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Part Three

By the end of the week, the hero was an expert in stitching. It was a lot of work.

On the outside, the villain didn’t look that bad but once the hero removed their clothing, the amount of cuts and bruises was scary. Their whole body was full of them and the hero had to use a lot of thread. There were also smaller wounds which the hero covered up with band aids.

Unfortunately, they only had coloured ones with comic animals (their niece had wanted those a while ago) which at first, had made the villain protest again. However, the hero had somehow managed to convince them that the colour of those band aids had absolutely nothing to do with their functionality.

One time, the hero caught them trying to escape again, limping, they’d aimed for the door but the hero had pulled them back, pressing their bodies against each other, hands on the villain’s chest. Handcuffs were useless, the hero had decided. Maybe that was a good excuse but the hero also had seen the marks those handcuffs had left on them.

Slowly, the week passed and slowly, all of the villain’s wounds were stitched and cared for, even those which reopened frequently thanks to their great struggling. The hero placed the last band aid on the villain’s jaw.

“You know,” the hero mumbled. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

The villain’s eyes jumped to the hero’s.

“No dirty joke?” the villain asked.

Yeah, no dirty joke. With the villain around them 24 hours a day, it was more than a little complicated to play a role. Either that and crying themselves to sleep every night or walking around like an exhausted ghost all day. They’d decided on doing the latter.

The agency had urged them to file a report but the hero had called in sick. They knew they couldn’t do this for eternity.

The hero didn’t answer them.

“Your stitches are awful,” the villain said. “They look horrible.”

“You’re mean.” The hero looked at one of the stitches, slightly uneasy now.

“I didn’t ask you to treat my wounds.”

The hero didn’t say anything.

“Still don’t get it why you do all this shit. The agency is bad, I get that. But they’re heroes. Can’t be that bad.”

The hero stared at them, something close to a murder stare.

“You know nothing,” they said. They pushed the flashbacks into the corners of their brain. Deep down so they wouldn’t have to dig them up again. “There are some leftovers in the fridge, take them if you want to.”

The hero stood up and looked down at their shaking fingers. They breathed in, breathed out. But it didn’t go away.

Usually it did but with the agency right behind them, asking for mission reports and more work, psychic evaluations and health check ups and another mission, they couldn’t even fall asleep anymore. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring the villain here. Maybe they were better off alone.

“I don’t wanna eat your trash food.”

“You know what?” The hero turned around with a burning face. “You’re a massive fucking asshole. I saved your life, more than once by now and you do nothing but insult me.”

Anger and exhaustion mixed together, creating a poisonous soup the hero was more than ready to throw in the others face.

“I know my cooking isn’t the fucking best, alright? I know it sucks but I’m trying really hard to keep us both alive.” The hero’s hands formed into fists and they dug their fingernails into the palms of their hands. “Fine. Just leave if you want to. Leave.”

The villain had the audacity to actually look surprised. A little shocked too. What a joke.

“I won’t drag you back into this apartment. Leave. Escape. Whatever. I don’t care. I have better things to do.”

Blinded by overwhelming emotions, they grabbed their suit and walked out of the door. They accepted the mission the agency had given to them on their mobile phone.

Turned out, irrational decisions were the worst. The hero had suspected that with bringing the villain into their home but now, they were certainly sure this was their end.

Apparently their opponent’s evaluation was ridiculously wrong. The information the agency had sent to the hero had described them as “insufficient” and “negligibly violent.” They were anything but.

Within five minutes of the fight, the hero already had a broken rib and a sprained ankle. Ten minutes in and the hero had turned into prey that got hunted. The hero tried desperately to hide, to block where they could but it didn’t get them far. They got hit, could barely escape, got dragged back into the whole mess. Their opponent wasn’t enormous in size but they were quick. Focused. Agile.

The hero wheezed when another strong hit went to their stomach. They felt the crack and the pain, felt how tears formed in their eyes.

They made a noise, a horrible noise and broke down.

“Nothing personal,” their opponent said, voice deep. The hero fought for air but nothing filled up their lungs. Not fair. Not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Their tears fell to the ground and they gasped for oxygen which eventually found its way into their lungs.

They hadn’t made dinner yet. What if the villain really didn’t like the leftovers? But they’d eaten yesterday…

They squeezed their eyelids together. What were they even thinking about? The villain had probably left the house already, licking their wounds like a hurt dog in their lair.

What a thought. The apartment would be so quiet…

With time, they managed to breathe evenly. But weren’t they tired of fighting? Weren’t they just so, so done with everything?

“Who sent you?” the hero asked.

“I sent myself,” they said. “Wanted to see how strong those little heroes have become. Wanted to experiment a bit with you.”

Experiment.

“Please,” the hero begged.

Their throat went dry. Their breathing changed, breaking, crumbling in their control. They knew they couldn’t afford this right now but god it had never been this bad before. They grasped their suit, gripped the fabric stretching over their chest. It was hot. It was way too hot.

Tears streamed down their face. Experiment.

And then, suddenly, they felt a hand on their shoulder.

“This one is mine.” The hero looked up, finding the villain’s eyes easily. They wanted to cry out of happiness but the building panic attack prohibited it.

The opponent tilted their head, their eyes jumping between the villain and the hero.

“Where have you been?”

“I kidnapped them, they escaped,” the villain lied. Their fingers combed through the hero’s hair and they shushed. “Mistake on my part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the opponent asked. Slowly, the hero got a grip on reality. This wasn’t the end. It wasn’t the end, wasn’t the end, wasn’t the end—

“They became attached to me accidentally. I didn’t know if you’d approve,” the villain said. “I wanted them for myself.”

The hero saw the tension in the villain’s jaw, how they swallowed forcefully. They knew each other.

The opponent watched them carefully, suspiciously.

“Fine with me. Make them your puppy.” They looked at the villain intensely. “But don’t forget about my puppy back at home, will you?”

The hero didn’t understand the threat. However, when the villain carried them to the hero’s car, they understood that the villain had come to rescue them.

[thatgoblin]

New Witch in Town Part 1

Summary: Things were going great till you received a promotion at work. Then everything went downhill. Your long-term boyfriend cheates on you, your job had to close down for a week, and you have to look for a new place while sleeping on your Ex's couch and listening to him boink his new girlfriend. At least you didn't have to sleep on his (your) couch too long. You didn't look too close at the house, where it was, or how you'd get there, but you'd have four new roommates that were gone a lot for work. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Right?

Warnings: cheating (not by our heroes, narcissistic ex, not really anything big happens this part. Will update with more as they come.

Moving sucks. I have always been of that opinion and are still. Especially since I was looking for a place after my boyfriend of 5 years and I split. I thought marriage was on the horizon, especially with my promotion at work and with how things were going so smoothly, but instead he wanted to get to know the yoga instructor that had moved in across the street. It was almost comical to think that I made up every excuse in the book for him when my friends and family all called him out on being narcissistic and manipulative, but the moment I saw my new neighbor in the downward dog in MY bed with my boyfriend one afternoon, that was it. The satisfaction of kicking him out would have helped me heal, but I had been the one that moved in with him and so I was the one that had to find a new place.

After looking for a week while sleeping on the couch, I thought I got a break. A large six bedroom house with a finished basement, a garden in the backyard, and four roommates in need of a fifth as they worked a lot and wanted someone home to take care of it when they had to leave for work. It seemed too good to be true. I knew it was four men living there as well, but that didn’t deter me. In fact I thought it was perfect. Roommates meant no feelings. I thought that when they were home they would be too busy going out and seeing girls or guys or whoever to even bother trying to sleep with me or date me. The last thing I wanted or needed (mostly needed) was to have a rebound or get in a relationship with a roommate. 

Sending a message to the person who posted the ad in the paper, I arranged to get moved in quickly. There was no talk of rent or contracts or anything other than my move in date. It should have been a red flag, but I was desperate enough to get out of my Ex’s place that I didn’t think twice. Getting a moving van and packing up all my things, which was actually not that much since I wanted to just get out of there, I was quick to leave. The new place was gorgeous and I instantly fell in love with it when I pulled up. Yes, I also had not seen the place. My judgment was clouded because I needed to leave my Ex’s place quickly or end up in jail for murder.

Parked, I hopped out to knock on the door. Before I could rap my knuckles on the massive, dark stained door set, one opened to reveal a built man with a mohawk. We stared at each other for a moment, caught off guard by the timing before I shook myself. “Hi, I’m the new roommate,” I said, smiling as I held out my hand. 

“Hello,” the man said, smiling back as he shook my hand. He was incredibly warm, literally. It felt like I was shaking hands with a heating pad on full power. “I’m Johnny, but everyone calls me Soap,” he said, pulling me in for a quick, bone crushing hug. 

“Nice to meet you,” I grunted before he let go. 

“Here, let’s get you moved in, yeah?” He said, walking over to the moving van. 

“Here, I’ve got the key for the lock,” I said, digging it out of my purse. But Soap already had the back open with a small grunt and a quick lift of his arm. I was pretty sure I had locked it, but he was already in there and moving things to bring in.  

“Hi, you must be the new Roommate, I’m Kyle,” a voice said, catching my attention from Johnny, who had started to unload what looked like four large boxes at a time. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, turning to look at him and smile. The man was leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. His eyes scanned over my body as I stood there in worn out clothes I didn’t mind ruining. A brow raised as we locked eyes, followed by a smile. The scent of rain in the forest floated from him to envelop me and coax me closer. Stepping towards him, I looked to the sky to see the gray clouds getting dark and moving faster. “It looks like it might rain, so if you can help unload-”

“Almost done!” Johnny called as he suddenly ran out of the house. Wait, when did he get inside? Also, why was he saying he was almost done? 

“Johnny is enthusiastic about moving as well as helping people, eating, sticks, chasing cars-”

“No! You said you’d stop that joke!” Johnny yelled, stopping Kyle as he walked by with the last of my stuff. 

“Wow, that was fast. Are you sure you got everything?” I asked, moving to look at the back of the van. “Holy crap, you just moved like twenty boxes from my van to the house in just a few minutes? What?” I must have been really distracted or Johnny was really strong and fast. Maybe both. 

“So, a few things to go over,” Kyle said, putting an arm around my shoulders to guide me away as Johnny shut the back of the van. “Rent is due on the first of the month, so Price likes to have it at least a week before then. No parties, if you want friends over, make sure it’s when we’re not home, don’t go into our rooms, and don’t go into the basement.”

“Okay, your rooms I get, but the basement?” I asked, frowning as we stepped inside. The house was gorgeous, Victorian style with dark colors. It made me think of a less gothic Addams family home. The first floor was open with hardwood floors and gorgeous crown moldings in black, but the furniture didn’t match. It looked very worn and used, almost as if it was all on its last leg, and all the curtains were drawn everywhere. There was no sunlight to be seen, but that didn’t mean that the room was dark. There were lamps and overhead lights that lit up the place, making it easy to see around in the warm lighting. 

“So, the basement is storage and with how Price likes his order, it’s best to just stay out of it so you don’t accidentally touch something he might pitch a fit over,” Kyle said, keeping us moving to the stairs. The same dark wood carried us up a story as he kept a firm hold on me to keep me from wandering. Which was odd given I was living there and I would need to know where things were. “Here are our rooms. The one at the very end is Price’s, mine is right here, next to yours and on the other side is Simon’s and Johnny’s.” Each door was painted black and had an emblem engraved. Johnny’s had a crescent moon, Simon’s had an Ankh, Kyle’s had a star with seven points, Price’s had a ram’s skull with big horns, and mine. . . 

“So, since I live here now, can I carve something fun into my door?” I asked, looking at the blank space and trying to think of something cool to put there. Everyone else had one and I wanted one too. 

“That is not up to me,” Kyle said, brushing it off. “Now, if you want to, you can meet Simon and Price. We actually leave in the morning for work and will be gone for a few weeks because of work.”

“Okay,” I said, following him without a second thought. “So, what do you guys do for work?” I asked, following him like a happy puppy with no fear in their heart. 

“We’re in the military and go on work trips a lot. We figured that if we had someone here, then at least we would be less likely to be burgled or gone up in flames.”

“Well, I am pretty hyper aware of my surroundings when I’m alone and constantly check candles even if I’ve never lit any, so it should be good,” I said as he showed me back down the stairs to the living room where three men were waiting. One was Johnny who was nudging a man in a skull mask and giggling, the man in said skull mask who looked like a teen who found Hot Topic and bought every skeleton piece of clothing they had as well as eyeliner that was messily applied and smeared, and a man who looked like he knew the most and had the most authority of the group. Dressed in a long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, similar to Kyle’s, he also had trimmed mutton chops and mustache as a cigar burning between his thumb and forefinger. “Hi!” I said, waving with a grin and trying to put as much friendliness into my voice as possible.  

“Right,” Kyle said, turning away before gesturing to me. “This is our new roommate. I gave all the rules and such as well as letting her know we’ll be gone soon.”

“Kyle said you guys were in the military and would be gone, so no worries on anything. I already promised no parties and no snooping,” I said, rocking on my feet as I put my hands on my hips. “So, who are these guys?” I asked Kyle, pointing to Skull man and Cigar man. 

“I’m John Price,” the man with the cigar said as he stood up. A plume of smoke billowed out from his nostrils, his blue eyes were bright to the point I swear they were glowing. “Pleasure to meet you. We’ll be out of your hair in the early morning.” He held out his hand for me to shake with a soft smile. I probably came on a bit strong, but that was okay. Grabbing his hand, I shook it firmly. He, like Johnny, was incredibly warm to the touch, but there was something else. Like an electricity to him that had my hand twitching to grip his hand harder.

“That’s Simon,” Kyle said, pointing to the other man who waved from the sofa as Johnny poked at his face. 

“Hi!” I said, marching over to take his hand that was not offered in any way to shake it. He tensed when I touched him, going still and flexing so I couldn’t actually move our hands. “Oh wow, strong,” I said, giggling nervously before letting go. “Well, I guess this is it. Thanks for the bed and furniture by the way. I didn’t really have anything when I moved out of my last place.”

“Furniture?” Price asked, raising a brow at me. “I thought you were bringing everything.”

“There’s not a bed?” I asked, suddenly feeling my mood take a dip. “I thought I saw in the ad that there was a fully furnished room.”

“No, I didn’t put that,” Kyle said, shaking his head. 

“Right, sorry, that was probably something else. It’s okay. I can just sleep on the floor,” I said, forcing a smile to smooth things over. I needed this place even if I didn’t have a bed yet and I didn’t want to upset my new housemates. 

“Don’t be daft,” Kyle snorted. “You can have the sofa.”

 Better than the floor.

“I’ll be real quiet, I promise,” I said as John sighed and Ghost chuckled. 

“No, no. We probably have something for you to use so you’re not on the sofa,” Price said. 

“She can share my bed!” Johnny chimed in. My eyes went wide as Kyle groaned and Simon slapped the man on the back of the head. “What!? Nothing weird! Besides, I have the most normal room and it’s really fucking comfy.”

“Then you’ll have no problem taking the sofa for the night while our new friend takes your bed,” John said, smirking at him. Johnny began to protest when Simon covered his mouth. 

“You can sleep in my room, Soap,” the man said, his voice gruff and low. “There, we’re situated.” 

“I’ll show you where everything is,” Johnny said as he got up. I followed him, feeling an unfamiliar heat drop in my belly when I passed John. I glanced back to see him tip his head with a wink before I was led upstairs. Shaking myself to keep from thinking about it too much, I watched as Johnny opened the door with the crescent moon to let us in. While in my mind I had built it up to be this amazing, whimsical thing, it was very much a regular bedroom. 

The boxspring and mattress were on the floor with fluffy pillows and blankets and sheets that were twisted into a nest of sorts in the middle of it while a dresser sat off to the side with knick knacks on it. The walls were a warm creamy color with posters of movies and football teams, as well as a few framed pictures of what looked like family. A writing desk was on the corner, holding a PC and two monitors as well as a small rack of gaming controls. A headset hung on one of the monitors while an en suite bathroom already had the light on. It had a toilet, a sink, and an old clawed bathtub that held a shower head. I was starting to wish I had checked my room to see my tub situation. 

“Feel free to use the room while we’re gone till you get your bed in. Price has a bunch of stuff in the basement he’ll probably lend you when we get back, but I know a bed isn’t down there,” Johnny chuckled. “Shower works like a shower and hot water is plenty. All I ask is that you clean up and don’t leave things lying around.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate this. I swore that I saw there was furniture listed on the ad, but my head’s been so muddled lately that I probably combined two posts into one,” I said with a chuckle. “Oh well, at least there’s a back up plan. I promise I’ll make sure nothing gets messed up while you’re gone and it’ll be spick and span when you guys get home.”

“You’re not our house maid, just clean up after yourself,” Johnny snickered, ruffling my hair. It was an odd feeling, something someone would do with a person they were familiar with and while I had only met Johnny that day, I was pretty sure he would become a very important person in my life. All four of them really. 

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. The rest of the evening was calm, everyone gathering for dinner at the big dining table by the kitchen. Kyle ordered take out from a local Chinese place for everyone so dishes weren’t needed. Simon skipped dinner, opting to watch a footie game that was on. Conversation was good, they learned more about me, that I was a librarian at a local college and was on vacation that week because renovations were being done, that I liked animals, and as Kyle put it, always seemed to be a ray of sunshine. 

“Simon doesn’t like the sun,” Kyle teased. “He’d melt like the Wicked Witch if he went outside during the day.”

“Shut it,” Simon growled, flipping him off from the living room as we ate at the table. 

“Behave. I don’t want to sit on the plane tomorrow with you two bickering like children,” John said with a grumble.

“So where are you guys going?” I asked, getting more noodles on my plate.

“Classified,” Johnny said between mouthfuls of food.

“Well, do you know what you’ll be doing?”

“Classified,” Kyle said, snatching the last egg roll.

“Okay, do you know if-”

“Sorry, Love, classified,” John said, giving me an apologetic smile. At least he was nice about it. 

“Alright, well, I hope it goes smoothly and quickly and safely,” I said. “Whatever it is you do.”

Despite trying to help, I wasn’t allowed to clean up after dinner. None of them would let me. Each of us went to our rooms after a quick ‘good night’ and it was starting to feel like home. Even if I wasn’t in my own room, I was in a clean bed (that had the very distinct smell of a dog despite there not being any evidence of the animal being there) with comfortable pillows and blankets, making it better than when I was at my Ex’s on the couch. In bed with my eyes closed, I found that I couldn’t fall asleep. I’d be on the cusp and then my body would jolt me awake as if some unseen threat had nearly grabbed me. The whole night was like that. It was when the guys left that I finally passed out from exhaustion. I had no idea what it was or why it was happening, but I at least was on vacation. 

There was no return date for them that I was given, so I tried to keep busy with getting things I needed. Like the bed. It was hard to pick one and each salesperson I worked with seemed just as pushy as the last one. If I didn’t say no to all of them, then I would end up with ten beds. At least Johnny said I could use his. By the end of the week, I was finding myself feeling worse than when I was at my Ex’s on the couch. I was lonely and tired and emotional and just wanted someone to hug me and pet my head. Neither of those things were going to happen, so I tried to march on. At the mattress store, trying one last time, I was laying on a rather comfortable one when I heard a familiar voice. 

Sitting up, I saw my Ex with the girl he left me for. They were hugging and touching foreheads and smiling while picking out furniture. He and I were supposed to renovate a room to make it into a library, but there he was with someone else and I was bedless. Worse, I didn’t have anything I wanted. I had unpacked my clothes into a closet, but all my pictures and decorations and bigger stuff were still at his place and I couldn’t bring myself to ask for them back. The tidal wave of emotions hit me, making me apologize as I speed walked out of the store before he could see me. 

Back home, I changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed cold pizza to eat before turning on Titanic in the living room. I needed to cry and get it out before I turned into a hysterical nut job over a mattress. There I stayed for the weekend, crying over 1998 Leo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet because while their love was brief, it was intense and lasting despite the years of separation. That was how the others found me Monday afternoon. I was given a half day as a water pipe burst, kicking me out of my building again, so back to Titanic with tears and pasta. 

“I’m flying, Jack. I’m flying,” I ugly sobbed as I held my arms out with Kate and Leo. The others were damn near silent as they stood by and watched my misery. 

“Should we do something, Cap?” Kyle asked. They were in ear shot, but I ignored them as I ‘doo doo doo’d along to the score. 

“I don’t know if we can,” John said. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Johnny said, dropping his bag before coming over to me. “Hey there, what’re you watching, hen?” He asked, his voice soft and gentle as if he were speaking to a scared animal.

“Titanic,” I whimpered. 

“How many times have you watched it?”

“It’s almost four hours long because it’s the extended edition,” I said. “I’ve had it on repeat since Friday.” Johnny was quiet, looking at me wide eyed before looking back to the group. That was clearly too many times. 

“How about we turn this off for a bit, yeah?” John said, coming over to pick up the remote. 

“No, don't touch it!” I shrieked, grabbing the remote from him. John jumped back like a wild animal snapped their jaws at him. “I’ve had a bad week and I'm still out of work because the building is old and hasn’t been kept properly for so long and they’re finding more things to fix. . .”

“You’re sad about work?” Kyle asked, coming closer, putting his arm around me. His rainy, earthy scent swirled around me, calming my tense muscles. John shot him a dirty look, but didn’t say anything. 

“Not really. I mean, I haven’t taken a vacation in nearly 6 years because I love it. So a break is nice, but I tried to go mattress shopping this week and I felt weird every time I tried one and the last store I was at had my ex-boyfriend, Dirk, with his new girlfriend buying a writing desk,” I said, getting choked up. “We were making a library in our house and that was the last piece. Then I caught him in bed with his new girlfriend and now I’m just a loser in a big, empty house with no mattress who watched Titanic over 15 times!”

“It’s okay. We all go through bouts of bad luck,” Kyle said, rubbing my arms.

“But this isn’t bad luck!” I cried, pulling away to look at them. “I’m cursed! It has to be it! I was with Dirk for nearly 5 years and we didn’t canoodle once! We were planning on starting a radish farm in the countryside and raise sheep as a side project! Then right after I got my promotion, my boss gave me a whole gift basket of knick knacks, because she knows I love knick knacks, the same day I came home to find Dirk in bed with our neighbor! Then I had to sleep on the couch and listen to them boink till I moved in here, leaving behind so much stuff because I just wanted out of there, and then he finishes our projects with HER!? That’s being cursed.”

“How much stuff?” Simon asked, breaking the awkward/stunned silence. 

“Like, I sold a lot when I moved in, but the bigger stuff was mine. The TV, the sectional, the bar cart, all the plants-”

“Suffice to say, you still have a lot over there, yeah?” John said, cutting me off. I nodded with a sigh, wiping my face with the sleeve of my fuzzy bathrobe that probably needed to be washed. I hadn’t showered or changed all weekend, having doused myself in deodorant and dry shampoo to make it through the day only to have it backfire when the pipe burst and drenched my clothes. So back into depression pants it was. 

“Right then, looks like we have a mission, boys,” John said. “Gaz, get us a decent sized moving truck, Soap and Ghost, move all our shite out and clear the areas.”

“What about me?” I asked, looking at him with big eyes, full of confusion. 

“You have the most important job of all, Love,” he said, resting a hand on my shoulder. Warmth bloomed in my chest as he looked at me with a soft smile. “Go take a shower.”

Well then. 

“Are we not going to touch that she said ‘boink’ and ‘canoodle’?” Simon asked.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

After a shower, with Soap coming in to make sure I didn’t still smell sad several times, I was deemed fit to join the mission of getting my stuff back. Kyle had found a moving truck easily with the day going late, so he and Simon rode together while John, Soap, and I rode in Soap’s jeep. “Is this the place?” Soap asked as we pulled up in front of the cottage like home that used to be mine. 

“Yeah,” I said with a soft whine. “I mean, maybe we should come back tomorrow. He might not be home and I don’t want to walk in on him and her doing the horizontal tango again.”

“Listen,” John said, turning in the front seat to look at me. “You can’t just ignore things and let people walk all over you. You need to stand up to him and take back what’s yours. It isn’t right that he keeps so much while you just accept the bare minimum. Especially if it was yours to begin with.”

“It’s okay to take up space and speak up to keep that space,” Soap said, turning to look at me as well. “You’ve got back up in this, too. We won’t let him walk over you.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at them. 

“Really,” Soap said with a nod.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, letting out a big breath. Stepping out of the jeep, I led the two men to the front door. Knocking quietly, I waited only a second before turning around. “Okay, he’s not home, let’s go.”

“No, you are going to stand your ground, Lass,” Soap said, catching me before I could even walk away. “You’ve got this.”

“And we’ve got you,” John said with a firm nod. 

After nodding and taking another deep breath, I turned back around to knock louder on the door. 

“Maybe a bit more ‘umph’ if ya could,” Soap said. Raising my hand, I slammed it down on the door as hard as I could three times. “Jesus, taking the door off its hinges,” he snickered. 

It did the trick though, Dirk opened the door with a very bewildered look on his face to see me and two men of different heights, but equally big muscles. Dirk himself was tall, almost 6’7”, and had shoulder length brown hair that he kept up in a bun. He had recently shaved off the beard he’d been growing since we started dating as well, giving his once round face a more sharp angle.

“Peaches?” He said, looking at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I want my stuff back, Dirk,” I said, but my tone made it a request rather than a statement. “All of it.”

“What do you mean? You took all your stuff with you,” he said. In true Dirk fashion, he was trying to gaslight me and the others. I knew that most of the stuff in the house was mine and so did he, but he had made sure everyone knew it was ‘ours’ when they came to visit. 

“No, I still have stuff here. My pictures, my decorations, my sectional and tv and appliances-”

“Look, I know you think you need that stuff, but you don’t. You’re good without it. Otherwise you would have taken it with you from the start,” Dirk said, giving me a soft smile. One that used to make me melt as he pulled so much nonsense right in front of me. 

“Or, she didn’t have help to move it, so that’s why we’re here,” Soap said. “So, if you’d let us in to grab her stuff and go, that would be grand.”

“Whoa, whoa. I can’t just let you in here to take what you want,” Dirk said, holding up his hands. “I’ve got my stuff too and for all I know she could say it’s hers when it’s not. Obviously you’d believe her over me, so I can’t risk that. Look, Peaches, you can come back without these guys and I’ll help you get your stuff tomorrow, okay? I’m kind of busy and can’t stop what I’m doing.”

“Dirk, what’s going on?” A voice called. Walking out from the old office, the yoga teacher looked confused. She was in leggings and a sports bra, covered in paint. 

“Nothing, Darling, go back to painting,” Dirk said with a dismissive chuckle. “So, how about after 3PM, hmm?”

Seeing the Yoga Teacher in her outfit, covered in pea green paint, and knowing she was painting over the Italian Vista Yellow of the Library that I had done triggered me. Dirk had clearly replaced me with ease and he was replacing everything I had done without a second thought.

“Dirk, give me back my stuff,” I snapped, looking up at him with a fury. 

“Look, Peaches-”

“Shut up! I’m taking my stuff back and if you try to stop me I will bite you!” I growled. “Now move your stupid lanky, Jack Skellington body before I make good on my promise.” 

“Whoa! Pe-”

“Stop calling me Peaches! That’s not my name and I don’t even like the fruit that much!” I snapped, pushing him aside. “Come on in guys. I don’t want to stay too long and get the smell of lies on everything.”

“I don’t know about that, but okay,” Soap snorted as he and John came in. Everytime Dirk tried to interrupt, I’d snap at him about how I kept all the receipts for everything big I bought and I did indeed own it. Yoga Teacher had left promptly, telling Dirk she’d be back later. Simon and Kyle were quick to help as well, Dirk giving Simon a weird look after telling him to go ahead and come in. Simon had cracked his neck and while I couldn’t see it behind his mask, I could tell he had a wide grin underneath. 

It took maybe an hour to get everything from the sofa to the tv to the dining room table and all my small stuff. Once it was packed up, Dirk stood at the threshold of his home with his arms crossed while glaring at me. Soap just flipped him off while blowing a raspberry as we drove home. 

Unloading was just as easy, the guys carrying everything inside quickly without even breaking a sweat. I knew active military people kept fit, but this was even a feat for them. 

“Looks good,” Kyle said, seeing how everything seemed to magically match the house. Gone were the torn and taped furniture and in was the almost new items that really spruced up the home. 

“Thanks,” I said, looking at them. “All of you for everything. I thought that I would be miserable for a much longer time than I was.”

“You’re welcome,” Soap said, ruffling my hair again. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the display of affection. It felt nice. 

“One problem,” Simon said from the sofa, having turned on the TV. “You still don’t have a bed.”

“Damn it.”

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing your bed with me?” I asked John after grabbing some of my own blankets. 

“Of course,” he said, opening the door to his room. Like Soap’s, it was clean and orderly. Everything in its place. He had bookshelves full of paperbacks and hardbacks that lined one wall, a desk that looked like it belonged to a lord or duke that was huge and had intricate carvings on it, and his bed was huge. I figured it would be a queen like Soaps, but it was a king with the softest, silkiest sheets I’d ever felt. The blankets were light and the pillows fluffy. It was going to be a dream come true to sleep there. “Make yourself comfortable on the bed. I’m going to take a quick shower then join you,” he said, giving me a smile before disappearing into his bathroom.

Soap wanted his own bed and while I would have been fine sharing with him, the look Simon gave me was warning enough. Kyle made an excuse that he was cleaning his room and didn’t want guests over, so that left me with Price. I didn’t mind so long as he didn’t. Pulling back the covers of his bed, I made a small nest to give us a barrier of sorts. It felt polite to designate our spaces given we barely knew each other. 

Comfortable and laying in bed, I closed my eyes as the sounds of John’s shower lulled me to sleep. But like last time I tried to sleep when the boys were home, I jerked awake like I was either going to be grabbed or about to fall. Sucking in a breath through my nose, I looked around to find it had only been about 10 minutes since I laid down. John was coming out of the bathroom in just a towel to see me sitting in bed, looking around in a slight panic. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming over to my side of the bed.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “I was asleep and then I just. . . I don’t know. I woke up suddenly. . .”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, sitting next to me. Looking at him, it didn’t even occur to me that he had just a towel on. I was distracted. His body was built and toned, but nothing like a body builder. Short curls covered his chest and trailed down his belly, his legs and arms having a generous amount as well. While I got that with a glance, it was two large, dark scars that ran down either side of his spine from the middle of his shoulders to the middle of his back that drew my attention.

“Had surgery on my back,” he said, pulling my attention from the marks. “I fell out of a helicopter about 5 years ago and broke my back as well as my pelvis. It took nearly 15 hours of surgery to put me back together after getting med-evaced out of there.”

“Wow,” I said softly, worrying my blankets between my fingers. “It doesn’t hurt at all now?”

“No, not really. I forget they’re there since I never see them,” he said with a soft chuckle. “There’s much smaller ones too, we all have them.”

“Is that why Simon wears a mask?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, nodding. “Poor guy would get more stares if he didn’t wear it and he hates attention as is.”

“I’m sorry you were put in a position to get them. I know it’s naive and childish, but if only we could all get along,” I said.

“The world would be much better off,” he nodded. “I’m really proud of you today. That took a lot of guts. From just the small interaction we had with that prick, I understand why you wouldn’t want to confront him.”

“Thanks,” I said, chuckling. “I had help, but I’m glad I did it too. Not sure what I would have done without you guys.”

“Still be watching Titanic, I’d say,” John snorted. Scoffing, I nudged him with my foot as I rolled my eyes. 

“It’s a good movie and pretty stinkin’ accurate,” I said.

“Eh, it has its moments. I don’t remember the third class passengers being locked behind doors, but Guggenheim was pretty spot on,” John said, holding my foot to absentmindedly rub it. 

“You think? I mean, no one can say for sure about the doors or Guggenheim, but they tried to stay true to it and made it a lot more. . . Real, ya know?” I said, relaxing as he worked his way up my ankle with warm fingers pushing and working my tired muscles. 

“No one ever thought it had really split besides a few of the survivors that said so, but then again, who listens to us?” He said.

“‘Us?’ Look, I know you’re in your late 30’s but you’re nowhere near old enough to have been on the Titanic. My great-grandmother, maybe, but you’re not even regular old,” I said. “You’re barely middle-aged. Then again, I heard we’re getting quarter life crises now.”

“Thank you,” John laughed. “For not calling me old. But you don’t know. I could be an immortal demon that just likes to spend time with humans because they’re so fascinating.”

“Well, you’re an especially nice demon, if I say so myself,” I said, smiling as he switched feet. 

“Don’t tell the others, they’ll start using it against me,” he said with a wink. 

“Oh, I think they know already,” I giggled. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. They know how to twist my arm to get what they want,” he said. “Okay, lay on your front.” Setting my leg down, he patted my thigh to encourage me to listen. I didn’t ask or bother trying to. Doing as I was told, I moved to lay on my belly with a pillow tucked under my head with my arms curled around it. 

John moved, straddling my rear before pushing my sleep shirt up. Before I could protest, his fingers were digging and rubbing into my tense back. My words died on my lips as a moan came out instead. 

“Looks like I found the right spot,” John hummed as he kept working that spot, earning more noises between whines and hisses and grunts till the knot was gone and he moved on to the next. It felt amazing and painful as he worked my body into submission. By the time he was done, I was goo beneath him. 

“That felt good,” I mumbled into the pillow, feeling like I was in no way going to be able to move. John must have known his powers as he moved me over a bit and tucked me in. He left me for a few moments before coming back in pajama pants and a tee. “Were you just naked on top of me?” I asked.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, climbing into bed next to me.

“No, just an observation,” I said, finally falling asleep and staying asleep. 

Instead of jerking awake, I had dreams filled with debauchery that would make Benjamin Franklin blush. All of it was with John, too, which made waking up to find a mess of arousal in my pants all the more embarrassing. John was already up and out of bed by the time I was sitting up, luckily, so I went ahead to shower then get breakfast. By the time I came back with a coffee and bagel, John was busy in my room.

He had found a bed frame in the basement that he said was perfect for me. It was a canopy bed made from wood with a dark finish and gauzy lavender curtains. 

“I didn’t even know that I had this,” he said, showing me after setting it up. “It’s a king size, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate the space.” John had also pulled up a matching dresser and side tables as well. “It doesn’t go with the paint job, but you could do that in your own time.”

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” I said, turning to hug him tightly. He tensed for a moment before relaxing. That heat I had felt before came back, settling heavily as he held me. 

“You’re welcome,” he said softly into my hair. Pulling away, feeling drawn to him still, I had to look away or I’d stay there longer. Soap and Kyle were waiting on me and I couldn’t put it off any longer. “You better go before they start hunting for you. I’ll unpack these few boxes for you and set them on your dresser and nightstand for you to place where you want later.”

“Thanks, again, John,” I said with a nod. “I really do appreciate this.” He turned to give me a smile before waving. Waving back slightly, I hurried down the stairs to where the two men were waiting on me.

“Someone looks flushed,” Kyle purred with a smirk. 

“What? No, I just ran down stairs, shut up weirdo, let’s go get me a mattress,” I said, waving him off before walking outside. Were my cheeks red? I didn’t think there was much to it. It was just a HUG for crying out loud. I didn’t need or want to like my roommates like that. Eugh. 

“So what size of mattress do you need for your new bed frame?” Soap asked as he drove. 

“John said it was a king size,” I said, looking at my bank account. Which did not look good. I was paid for the first week off, but the second week was going to be paid as if I worked half days. “Which I’m now regretting that I said yes to. I was ready to buy a full size mattress. It’s just me in it so it didn’t need to be big. Heck, I was going to go for a twin.”

“You are not getting a twin bed,” Kyle said. “They are for children and grannies, of which you are neither. A full size is okay under circumstance, but you need at least a queen bed. Also, because Price put together the bed frame already, you have to get a king size. He won’t take it down and won’t let any of us touch it.”

“I know, I feel bad, but a king size is going to be over a thousand pounds and I don’t have that kind of money,” I said with a sigh. I hated letting people know that I didn’t have much. It felt weird and embarrassing. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll buy it for you,” Soap said. 

“Wait, what? No, you can’t. I won’t let you?” I said, confused because he was so calm about it. 

“Think of it as payment for your stuff replacing our old stuff,” Soap said with a shrug. That made sense. Pulling into the parking lot, it wasn’t long before we were looking at a sea of mattresses and all of them looked the same. 

“Okay, so where should we start?” Kyle asked. I sighed and shrugged, but then Soap took the lead. Pulling me over by the arm, he picked me up like a doll and tossed me onto the bed as I yelped. “Not what I meant, but that works.”

“What the heck, Soap!?” I cried, bouncing on the bed. 

“Is it comfortable?” He asked, hopping onto next to me.

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Then on to the next one,” he said, dragging me off the mattress. Each mattress I tried, I was thrown on by Soap like a dog tossing his toy in the air to catch. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, clawing myself away from Soap. “If you throw me again, I will barf on you.”

“Duly noted,” he said as he sat up. “So, did you really spend 5 years with your ex and not have sex?”

“Why? Why are you bringing this up?” I asked, looking at him wide eyed. 

“Well, it’s curious, is all,” he said with a shrug. “You slept in the same bed, but never did anything? Not even hands?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I said, standing up to go to another mattress. 

“Hen, wait,” he called, hopping up to follow me. “It’s just. . . He slept with your neighbor, but never with you and he lived with you. That’s odd.”

“Okay, I get it, I’m weird for not sleeping with my live-in boyfriend,” I huffed at him.

“No, I meant that was odd for him,” Soap said. “You didn’t suddenly find yourself wanting to fuck someone after years of celibacy. It’s weird for him.”

“Okay, so you think something else happened?” I asked, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Well, you said your boss gave you knick knacks and then everything went to shite,” Soap said. “It sounds like a curse to me.”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you there. Curses aren’t real, I was being dramatic,” I said. “My ex just decided he was over manipulating me and doing what he wanted while using me.”

“Did he ever do anything like that before?” Soap asked. “I mean, anything out of character that suddenly?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “I don’t think so. Johnny, what’s the deal with this line of questioning? It’s not a mystery to be solved. Dirk was a narcissist that was using me and made it so I didn’t see his intentions. That’s it.”

“I don’t think it is,” he said, shaking his head. “You said you went back to work and had to leave the same day? What are they renovating?” 

“This is getting a bit weird for my taste, so let’s get back to mattress shopping,” I said, turning away quickly. The way he was pushing for something made my stomach twist. There wasn’t a grand conspiracy going on. It was just stupid things happening at the worst times. 

It was another half hour before I found the bed I wanted. It was comfy and cozy and until I broke it in, I could put a pillow topper on it. With the purchase made then loaded up, we went home. Soap and Kyle were quick to move the pieces in before we realized I didn’t have any sheets. Of course. 

“I’m just going to run down to the shops and grab some. I really want to sleep in my own bed tonight with my own pillows and covers,” I said. 

“Here, take the jeep,” Soap said, tossing me the keys. 

“Thanks,” I said, catching them. 15 minutes later I was browsing through the home goods store, trying to decide what colors I wanted. While browsing, my mind began to wander as Soap’s words came back to me. Curses weren’t real. They were just made up like fairy tales to keep people from messing around with dead things and not to be awful to each other. But he was right. Dirk had changed that day I got my promotion. We hadn’t been intimate because he wanted to have a slightly old fashioned relationship. I didn’t mind because I didn’t really think about that stuff because I was usually so busy with work. 

He was still the bad guy, his gaslighting had been happening since we met and it wasn’t like his cheating was out of the blue. I had thought he’d been seeing someone else before, catching him kissing a girl from his work. He explained it away as they were in a play, which made no sense as he worked as a salesperson for compost. Soap’s words shouldn’t have been eating at me so much, but maybe he was right. Maybe I was cursed and I needed true love’s kiss or something to break it. Except, no one loved me and I didn’t love anyone. Not like that at least. That connection with someone where you can almost read their thoughts, that you can feel what they feel, and while sometimes you fight, it doesn’t tear you apart. It brings you closer. 

No. I didn’t have that and I was starting to think I never would. 

Just as I was about to grab the purple jersey sheets, lost in my thoughts, my hand landed on someone else’s. 

“Oh, sorry,” I said as I pulled away. Looking to the right, a man with sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes had reached for the same set of sheets.

“Oh, no, go right ahead,” he said, his voice dripping with a Southern American accent. Chuckling, he stepped back to wave me on. “Sorry about that, I didn't realize someone else was grabbing for the same set.”

“Sorry, I was in my own little world, but thanks,” I said, taking the sheets to put in my trolley. “You don’t really strike me as a purple guy.”

“I’m usually not, but I was wanting to branch out a bit and, well, I need some new sheets anyways,” he said. “I’m Phillip, by the way.”

“Hi,” I said, giving him my name. “You don’t really get many Americans around here.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” he said, nodding. “Are you a local?”

“I moved here a while ago, so I’m basically a local now,” I said. “How long have you been here?” 

“Not long. A few months really,” he said, leaning against his trolly. “I’m with the military and so I’m used to moving every few years.”

“Oh? My roommates are military too,” I said. “I have no idea what they do or what their ranks are, but they’re in the British military.”

“You don’t say? You wouldn’t happen to at least know their names, do you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Uh, John, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon,” I said, a little perplexed. Maybe Phillip worked with them recently or they worked together in the past.

“That wouldn’t be John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, and Simon Riley, would it?” He asked, coming closer as he kept his eyes locked with mine.

“Wait, yeah. Do you know them?” I asked. My stomach began to twist again, like it did with Soap before. Something in my brain was telling me to run away, throw things at him and get out of there as quickly as possible. The air around us didn’t feel right, It was suddenly stagnant and warm versus the cool and moving with the fans on. 

“I sure do,” he said before my phone went off. It was John. Phillip’s eyes finally left mine to look at my phone in my hand with a smirk. “You should probably answer that.” Frowning, I answered it as I stood there with Phillip. 

“John?” I answered, my voice shaking as I looked back up at the blond. Phillip stepped closer, cornering me to keep me from slipping past him.

“You need to get home, NOW,” John said. “I pulled out all your things and set them up like I said, but there’s something wrong. Something is very wrong.” He sounded agitated, almost out of breath like something had chased him. 

“John, I think you’re right,” I said. He paused, hearing the tremble in my voice

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, the call getting staticy. 

“I don’t know,” I said. Phillip sighed, holding his hand out for my phone, gesturing for me to give it to him. “John.” My back hit the wall of items, a few of them fell, but that was the least of my problems.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, firmer.

“Do you know Phillip Graves?” I asked. John cursed as Phillip rolled his eyes, yanking my phone away. “John!”

“Hello, John, it’s been a while,” the man cooed. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, turning to look for help. It hadn’t been that long since I was in the store and it wasn’t nearly closing time, but the entire store was empty save for me and Phillip. Even the employees were gone. “You know what we want. It’s an easy decision to make and I’ll make it even easier on you.”

“What?” I said, looking around again, seeing the windows blacked out. It had been bright with sunlight not five minutes ago. “John!” I cried, getting scared. Turning back to Phillip, he didn’t look the same. His eyes glowed red as black smoke rippled off of him. Screaming, I tried to rush past him, but he easily tripped me to send me to the ground. I didn’t have time to scramble as strong, smoking hands pulled me to my feet. 

“Don’t hurt her,” Phillip said, his skin turning a pale, purple color. “Not yet at least. The ball’s in your court, John. I just hope your new roommate doesn’t mind being killed over a rock. I mean, you’ve let dozens of other people die over this, so what’s one more, hmm? You know where to find me when you’re ready to hand it over. Buh-bye,” he said in a sing-song voice before hanging up. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

Masterlist

New Witch in Town Masterlist

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Taglist: @birdstoprey @sebbytheraccoon @pricescigar @alwaysshallow @sae1kie @sleepydang @lexi-zsy09 @ghostlywhiskey @ghosts-cyphera

[sugarsnappeases]

WHO UP LILYROSEKILLING THEMSELVES?!

if yes, i have (unedited, be nice to me) snippetty-snip ❤️

When she turns to look at them again, inevitable really, a sort of irresistible pull - she’s curious about them, fascinated for some reason, inexplicably drawn to them - they aren’t in the booth anymore. Instead, her eyes find them out on the dance floor, which has filled considerably in the couple of hours since she’s been here - she’s sure it must be after midnight by now, and the whole place is bustling. There’s still quite a bit of space on the dance floor though, despite all the people, and the two men aren’t using any of it; they exist entirely in each other’s personal space, hands everywhere, dancing, or grinding really, so close together that they almost look like one conjoined creature.

The blond has his hands in the jeans backpocket of the lanky one, who has his face buried in the blond’s neck, folded over him in a way that should look comical but is making Lily blush a little. It’s just - intimate, they’re entirely in their own world, clearly obsessed with each other, devoted, and Lily thinks that’s something that she would really quite like to experience for herself. Maybe James had been obsessed with her, the way he chased after her for years, but she thought that he had probably been more obsessed with the idea of her than who she actually was, not that she really allowed anyone to see who she actually was back then, but anyway these two, out on the dance floor, are obsessed with each other in a way that ran deeper than appearances and expectations. 

They’re obsessed with each other down to the very marrow, cutting each other open and revelling in, revering, every drop of blood that spills, she thinks that they would probably let each other be messy and selfish and angry and cruel and awful and that they would look at the rot that lived inside the other, the knives, the imperfection, and still never let them go, still worship the ground they walked on. Lily didn’t actually know them, but looking at them - the blond one’s hands moving out of the jeans’ pockets and moving to slide under their waistband instead, the lanky one bringing a hand up and running it through the blond one’s hair, pulling his head back to lock their lips together - she’s sure that she’s right.

She’s also probably jealous, and projecting, and delusional. 

And drunk. 

It’s the last of these factors that makes her think fuck it, maybe she doesn’t need to try and forget about them, maybe she can down her drink, leave the guy who’s name she still can’t remember at the bar, and head out onto the dancefloor. 

More than the alcohol, she’s also promised herself that she’s going to try new things and do what she wants without waiting for permission from some impossible higher power, and what she wants right now is to slide herself in between these two men and hope that they’ll decide to worship the ground that she walks on too. 

It’s something visceral, the way she wants them, something she doesn’t think she’s ever fully felt about a person, or people, before, that kind of instinctive hungering that makes her want to dig her fingernails into their skin and never let go, makes her want to become a part of their conjoined creature, to make a monstrosity - a freak, Petunia would say, but Lily likes the sound of it this time, because she is feeling a little freaky, and maybe there’s nothing wrong with that. 

She isn’t entirely sure how she manages it, what with the way they’re plastered against each other, with the way they’re dancing and kissing and clinging to each other, there shouldn’t be room for anything between the two of them. Maybe they see her coming and separate slightly, or maybe she forces them apart and works her way in herself, but either way she ends up standing between the two of them, the lanky one behind her and the blond in front of her. The top two buttons of the blond’s shirt are now undone and it’s making her feel a little weak in the knees as one set of hands settles on her hips and another wraps around her waist. He smiles at her, bright, white teeth, and his eyes, level with hers as she stands in her heels, are a piercing blue, that same curiosity mixed with something a little more feral. 

“We were hoping you’d come over,” he says, and if the three of them weren’t pressed together so tightly she thinks she might have fallen over then, because that’s an entirely unfair thing to say to her. As it is, the lanky one is draping himself over her in the same way that he had been draping himself over the blond earlier and really, if they felt her sway a little in their arms she was sure she could just pretend she was dancing.

It’s a little overwhelming, how immediately connected she feels to them, in the way those blue eyes are staring into hers, and in the way there are hands holding her like she’s something precious, a treasure, and in the way there’s a chin resting on her shoulder now; the two men welcoming her into their dynamic like she was made to fit there, in between them. She thinks she could get addicted to it, obsessed with it, very easily - it might even have happened already.

She leans back against the chest of the lanky one, turning her head to try and get his face in her line of vision. His eyes are a greenish sort of hazel, glinting with that same intensity that seems to exist in everything these two do, and she smiles at him as he moves his head to look at her better. 

“I kinda wanna kiss your boyfriend, if you don’t mind,” she says, smile turning into a grin, once again thinking fuck it and turning back to face the blond one before the lanky one can reply, lifting her hands to tangle them in his hair, mussing it up more, pulling his face to hers and pressing their lips together.

[fadelion]

I'd really dig a Duke solo run right now. Or rather, a Duke focused run that shows off Gotham during the day again and has minimal appearances from other bats and established heroes. Something that shows how he runs things when it's just coming down to him. And brings the old Robin Crew back.

I admit, I feel like the curing of his parents was kinda anticlimactic. Like, if Metamorpho can synthesize a cure for Joker Gas, that guy needs to be on speed-dial. (Is he probably busy and hard to reach like every other hero trying to do this full time while maintaining a personal life? Probably? Would I offer him some of that Batman money to make some time every few weeks or so to examine all the various toxins and such used by multiple Gotham villains? Absolutely.) So, maybe that cure didn't work. Not permanently. A rare misread from Metamorpho, something that he could've and would've fixed ifnhed seen it. Maybe that gas mutates the victim over time, and if they stay dosed long enough, they start to relapse, even if cured. What if Duke's parents just have the occasional fit of mad laughter. Just an incident here, once or twice a month or so. But they seem to get longer each time, and then they start happening once a week. Twice a week. Every other day. And Duke is starting to freak out, running himself ragged on his off time to try to figure out what went wrong.

At some point, he recalls a case he was on that he never really got a chance to fully close out: The White Market. This place (seen in Batman - Case Files: Signal) was a whole villian swap meet, full of interesting gear, tools, spoils, and inventions, all hidden on a whole other wavelength that most people can't even see. Maybe some other villian has a cure-all for this kind of thing, or just something useful until Metamorpho gets free (the man muttered something about a "Danger Street" in one of the quickest phone calls Duke ever had, and Black Lightning and Katana are probably still on the same kind of stuff they were doing when Jason ran into them a few months back). Maybe, after some time has passed, they feel comfortable opening up a Gotham access point again, now that the heat seems to have died down.

Of course, there was a whole other half to that incident. Mainly that a Riko and Dax, somehow empowered by a tech billionaire, showed up to work the same case, Riko leeching Duke's powers to match the wavelength necessary to get into the White Market in the first place. Yeah, it ended with a blown cover and Duke getting beat bad enough that they were able to confirm he has a healing factor, but it's still unfinished business, and going toe to toe and blow for blow with people that used to be friends can't leave a good taste in his mouth. And it's not just Duke trying to figure it out. After all, you don't throw money like that into a project, and then scrap it, especially one of the steps in your plan is to jump a Bat (the new, daytime Bat, but still a bat). So they have to be still looking, right? If he can find a way into that tech guy's system, maybe he can get hold of some information he missed.

So, Duke has with a conversation with Tim about what Duke plans to do (because anybody else is busy (Nightwing running the Titans/League, Red Hood... "recovering"), out of the city (I think Batman is off world in comics at the moment? There's a current running comic about it. ), or might try to stop/join him (Oracle, Black Bat, and Spoiler, who have a Birds of Prey thing running right now, IIRC, and Robin, who's probably helping hold down the night shift). And Tim is all for it, willing to cover some things for him as long as Duke is sharing information and doesn't get himself killed. Duke makes sure Tim has Izzy's contact info and vice versa, and maybe emergency Hatch access, and he's out in the streets the next day, trying to find an access point for information on the place where he might find a cure for his parents. Only instead of a Bat over his shoulder, he's got Izzy in his ear and just his own skills in the field against assorted villians, another billionaire, and whatever he's still gotta deal with in the day to day to even have the time for this.

And all the while, there's a part of him thinking that maybe he can get the old crew back together instead. If they don't beat each other senseless on sight first, anyway.

Or maybe after. A win is a win.

[chipper-smol]

2 for the artist asks! :>

2. 5 favourites of your own work?

ough this one is going to make me go digging so give me a second.

My dragon AU design for Hornet. I just love it so much that i'm probably going to re-use this eventually for an original project if it'll fit in it.

My married husband ocs, Trotter and Cygnus, lovin' on eachother. (Cygnus is a black hole and he's floating. Trotter has no concept of personal space)

I need to draw them more. Little Chip made them in highschool and was so valid.

This was for my hollow knight space AU I had with Paya. We had a FUCK TON of good ideas adapting the lore to a futuristic setting. I just didnt have enough energy to flesh them out in art.

But space Quirrel genuinely makes me happy every time I see him. It's just a very good design.

this one i made in a feverish state of hyperfixation in under 5 hours

i have no idea where my mind went, but when I came back this was on my screen

This one was just really fun to do and came out really well. The designs are satisfying, the posing is engaging and dynamic, and it encapsulates both universes equally.

my aroace girls :3c

This was originally gonna be posted like my usual comics (frame by frame) but the page composition turned out REALLY NICE and honestly makes me want to do comic pages more frequently

also im surpremely proud of Macaque's face and the bottle

look

the legs, the hesitant hand, macaque's ears over wukong's heart, the grass, the tree leaves shading, the grass, the colors-

im just really really really really happy with this one and might end up making it my first print (along with another piece im proud of but can't post yet)

There's 7 pictures here BUT THERE WERE SO MANY I PASSED BY

[luthwhore]

I want to preface this by saying that I haven't read every comic in which Lex has ever appeared, and most of what I've read has been from the last two decades or from the Bronze Age; I am still working my way through most of his post-crisis/pre-flashpoint content.

These are also recommended based on how much I personally enjoyed them, so there is a bit of subjectivity here. However, if I think a comic is particularly important to Lex’s canon and/or objectively well-written, I will try to make note of it, even if it doesn’t suit my own tastes.

Stuff listed as “further reading” is content I have more mixed feelings about or that features Lex less prominently, but still think is worth a read if you want to dig a little deeper.

There are a few things I recommend avoiding unless you really, really want to read it for historical reasons (often because the comics include triggering content), and I've tried to make note of these as well.

⭐️ = most important for current continuity 💜 = personal favorites

Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid ⭐️

Generally considered the definitive retelling of the Superman origin story, and the comic that reintroduced the idea of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor growing up together in Smallville to the mainline canon after it was written out during Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Further Reading

↳ Superman: Secret Origin (alternate telling from Birthright) ↳ Action Comics Special #1 - "The Last Will & Testament of Lex Luthor" ↳ Superman: American Alien (Superman origin story that actively contradicts Superman: Birthright, but has some fun Lex moments)

Lex Luthor: A Celebration of 75 Years 💜

Not a single comic, but rather a historical account of Lex through the ages. Rather than featuring entire arcs, it tends to feature a single issue that showcases the Lex of each era, so it's a good read to figure out what versions of Lex you personally enjoy. Some of the stories in this collection are included elsewhere on this list.

JLA: Rock of Ages by Grant Morrison (JLA 1998 #10-#15)

Lex and the Injustice Gang take on the Justice League! I really like Lex's characterization here because it really shows how Lex thinks, and it does a great job showing that despite being a villain, Lex does have standards and tries to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

Salvation Run by Bill Willingham & Lilah Sturges 💜

A villain vs villain story, featuring most of the DCU's villains being stranded off-world together and comparing Lex's style of leadership with the Joker's. Probably one of the best examples I've ever read of exactly how competent Lex is, and seeing him go head-to-head with the Joker is a delight.

Superman: The Black Ring by Paul Cornell (Action Comics #890-#900)

Might be a little hard to follow if you're not familiar with Green Lantern lore, but the arc does a great job with balancing Lex being villainous with still feeling fun and flawed and human. Not a lot of interaction with Superman until the very end, but there is a lot of Lois in this one. (Sort of. You'll see.)

Further Reading

↳ President Luthor: Secret Files and Origins ↳ Superman's Nemesis Lex Luthor ↳ Lex Luthor: Man of Steel ↳ Superman: Last Son ↳ Superman: Unchained

Forever Evil by Geoff Johns ⭐️

The start of Lex's "hero" arc, which spans from the end of n52 until 2018. Functions as a bit of a reset for his character and sets the tone for everything from here on in Lex’s continuity. It gives some insight into Lex’s relationship with Lena post-reboot, and has a very sweet take on his relationship with Bizarro.

Justice League (2011) by Geoff Johns ⭐️ (Lex appears in #30-52, though you can start at #24 if you’re interested in the setup for Forever Evil)

Follows up on the events in Forever Evil and kickstarts Lex’s several years’ long time as a formal part of the Justice League. I really enjoy his dynamics with each of the Trinity here, particularly with Diana. I would recommend the Darkseid War arc in particular (especially if you’re a Clex shipper), but the whole thing is enjoyable. Lena also appears here! Read Justice League: The Darkseid War - Lex Luthor between #45 and #46.

Action Comics: Path of Doom & Men of Steel, by Dan Jurgens ⭐️ (#957-962, #967-970)

Continues on with the “Super-Lex” arc teased at the end of the previous Justice League arc. This is also where Jon Kent (Clark & Lois’s son) is introduced. There’s a lot more Clark & Lex interaction here than most of the other comics in Lex’s hero era, and you do get the sense that he is genuinely trying to do the right thing, even if his motivations for doing so are a bit…self-centered.

Superman: Imperius Lex, by Patrick Gleason & Peter Tomasi ⭐️ (#33-36)

The end of the Super-Lex arc, though not technically the end of Lex’s time as a hero. Make sure to read the n52 Justice League: Darkseid War arc first, since it references the events heavily. Great Clark & Lex content, including a scene of them being stranded on a red sun planet together.

Justice League: No Justice, by Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, & Joshua Williamson

The official end to Lex being a hero and a member of the Justice League, as well as the setup for the Legion of Doom & Year of the Villain arcs. Imo, his reason for becoming a villain again is pretty contrived and frustrating, but it does set up what will end up becoming a very important dynamic between Lex and the Martian Manhunter in the next arc.

Further Reading

↳ Action Comics #23.1 - Bizarro ↳ Action Comics #23.3 - Lex Luthor ↳ Superwoman (2016) #1 - #8

⚠️ Note: Superwoman (2016) issues #1-8 feature both Lex and Lena and follow up on what was set up in Forever Evil and Justice League (2012), but the writing around Lena’s disability is extremely ableist. It does feature a lot of Lena and expands more on the backstory set up in Forever Evil, and there are a few good character moments for Lex, but Lena's treatment is pretty bad, so read with caution. ⚠️

Justice League (2018) by Scott Snyder & James Tynion IV (#1-39)

Lex’s return to classic villainy, along with the Legion of Doom. The arc is a little weird in places and I’m not crazy about some of the choices made, but his dynamic with the other villains is fun, and I enjoy his relationship with the Martian Manhunter. I personally like both Snyder and Tynion as writers enough to power through the general weirdness of this arc, but your mileage may vary. It’s pretty dense and hard to follow at times and I felt like it didn’t really hit its stride until about issue #8, so you might need to power through a bit at the beginning.

Year of the Villain: Hell Arisen by James Tynion IV

Follows up the “Year of the Villain” plot set up in Justice League. It’s weird as hell but it does have some good character moments for him, and more importantly, features the conclusion of the arc.

Further Reading

↳ Justice League Annual #1 ↳ DC’s Year of the Villain Special #1 ↳ Year of the Villain: Lex Luthor 💜 (Features an alternate universe where Lex is married to that universe's Kal-el. No, really.) ↳ Dark Nights: Death Metal ↳ Action Comics #1000 (special anthology issue)

Superman: Son of Kal-El (Annual #1) by Tom Taylor

I don’t have strong enough feelings about Lex in Son of Kal-El for me to recommend the whole series for him alone, but his interactions with both Clark and Jon in the annual are very enjoyable. (If you like the annual and you enjoy Jon, Lex is a recurring character in SoKE, and the series is a pretty quick read.)

Batman: The Abyss, by Joshua Williamson 💜 (Batman (2016) #118-121)

Technically a Batman story, but a very short one. Superman is currently off-world, so naturally Lex needs to find another hero to menace. Williamson is the current writer on the mainline Superman book and imo he is THE best Lex writer at DC. He really captures the way Lex earnestly views himself as a hero while doing the most unhinged bullshit you have ever seen. Worth a read if only to watch Lex take Bruce on the worst date of his life.

Action Comics #1050, by Joshua Williamson, Philip Kennedy Johnson, & Tom Taylor ⭐️

Provides context for the current Superman run. You could technically skip it, but with Williamson as a co-writer, I have no idea why you would want to. Lex is truly a mess in the most enjoyable way here.

Superman (2023), by Joshua Williamson ⭐️

The holy grail, the crown jewel, THE comic to read if you’re a Lex fan. The comic is only a few issues in as of writing this list, but Williamson really hits the perfect balance of making Lex funny and charming while still kind of being an asshole. (Updates monthly, though July-August won’t have new issues while the Knight Terrors arc is coming out.)

Further Reading

↳ Superman: Son of Kal-El ↳ Superman: Kal-El Returns ↳ Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen (2019) ↳ Lazarus Planet: Assault on Krypton ↳ Action Comics: The Rise of Metallo

The Last Days of Lex Luthor, by Mark Waid 💜

Written by the same author as Superman: Birthright. This comic is a Black Label comic, which means it’s not part of the mainline continuity and is more “adult oriented” than the mainstream books, so the writer has significantly more freedom and it shouldn’t take a lot of prior knowledge. In this comic, Lex is dying, and Superman is trying to find a way to save him. (The comic will be 3 issues long, released every other month.) I would strongly recommend reading Superman: Birthright first, though it's not mandatory.

Smallville: Season 11, by Bryan Q Miller 💜

The S11 comic is a little bloated with random cameos from other DC characters and the art is pretty inconsistent at times, but there are some really nice moments in it if you want more Smallville Lex. You can skip the Titans & Lantern arcs if you’re not interested in the extended Smallville universe, but the rest of the comic features Lex pretty heavily. Prepare yourself to cry over Otis. If you read nothing else, read Smallville: Alien, particularly if you're a Clex shipper.

Batman: Last Knight on Earth, by Scott Snyder 💜

A post-apocalyptic/dystopian future story, following Batman as he attempts to make his way back to Gotham. Lex only appears in issue #2, but Scott Snyder really loves his villains unhinged and psychosexually obsessed with their heroes. Lex’s fate in this might make you tear up. ⚠️ Character death warning. ⚠️

Clark & Lex: A Young Superman Graphic Novel, by Brendan Reichs

Young Clark Kent enters a competition to win an internship at Luthorcorp, where he meets and befriends a young Lex Luthor. Heavy Smallville influence is present here! This novel is marketed as the first in a series, so we'll hopefully see more in the future.

Further Reading

↳ All-Star Superman (widely considered one of the best Superman stories ever written, but I would not recommend if you’re new to Superman) ↳ DC Bombshells ↳ Injustice: Gods Among Us / Injustice 2 / Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent (would not recommend these if you’re new to DC)

Prior to the changes made to Lex's lore in the wake of "Crisis on Infinite Earths", Lex had been a mad scientist first and foremost, and had generally been portrayed as fairly human and flawed. This version of Lex grew up in Smallville alongside Clark Kent, though in the 80s and beyond this would be written in and out of his continuity several times.

These can be a little campy and goofy at times, since the comics were still being marketed toward children and were largely episodic, but there are some truly excellent bits of characterization for Lex within the pre-crisis canon, and it really is a treasure trove of Clex content if you're into that.

How Luthor Met Superboy, by Jerry Siegel (Adventure Comics #271)

The original story of Lex and Superboy (Clark) meeting for the first time. Eventually retooled slightly for Elliot Maggin's "The Luthor Nobody Knows" and then massively overhauled for Superman: Birthright, but this is the original, and while a bit corny and dated, some parts of it still hold up!

The Showdown Between Luthor and Superman, by Edmund Hamilton (Superman #164)

Lex and Superman face off on a red sun planet in an attempt to prove once and for all which of the two of them is stronger. The start of the short "Lexor" arc wherein becomes a hero on another planet.

Luthor Unleashed!, by Cary Bates 💜 (Action Comics #544)

The conclusion of the Lexor arc (mentioned above). Lex has a wife and child on Lexor, and considers that he might even be able to let himself be truly happy there. Unfortunately for him, his obsession with Superman wins out.

The Luthor Nobody Knows, by Elliot S! Maggin 💜 (Superman #292)

This story is somewhat of a retelling of "How Luthor Met Superboy", but told via flashback from the perspective of Superman. It's a bit more introspective than the original Silver Age story, with Clark reminiscing on his relationship with Lex.

The Einstein Connection, by Elliot S! Maggin 💜 (Superman #416)

Long before Smallville decided to make Lex an Alexander the Great fanboy, pre-crisis Lex uphold Albert Einstein as one of his heroes. A great character study on pre-crisis Lex, and in general a great example of the more "frenemy"-esque dynamic that Maggin wrote Clark and Lex with.

The Ghost of Superman Future, by Elliot S! Maggin (Superman #416)

A story set in the far future, with an elderly Superman recounting his life, including his friendship with Lex Luthor and all of its many ups and downs and complications. Contains the first-ever reference to the idea of Lexcorp, though it would not be fully incorporated into the mainline canon until post-crisis when Byrne revamped the character. ** If you like this story, I would strongly recommend reading Elliot S! Maggin's short story "Luthor's Gift", as it delves further into the dynamic between Clark, Lex, and Lois and presents a very bittersweet story of the end of Lex and Lois's lives. **

Further Reading

↳ Luthor -- Super-Hero! (Superman #168) ↳ Lex Luthor -- Super Scalp-hunter! (Superman #282) ↳ The Parasite's Power Play (Superman #286) ↳ Seven-foot-two... and Still Growing! (Superman #302) ↳ Welcome to Luthorcon III! (DC Comics Presents: Annual #4)

There are some I would personally recommend only reading for historical purposes, as they do not have a lot of connection to Lex's current characterization and have largely been retconned. These contain some pretty triggering content and I will try to warn for it where appropriate.

Superman (1986) and The Man of Steel (1986) by John Byrne

John Byrne was tasked with rebooting the Superman franchise after Crisis on Infinite Earths and made a lot of sweeping changes to the Superman lore at the time. One of the changes made was to switch Lex from a mad scientist who grew up in Smallville and was friends with Clark Kent as a child to a corrupt billionaire who grew up in Metropolis. A lot of the emotional complexity and depth of the pre-crisis version of Lex was stripped away into making him more unambiguously villainous. The Lex of the Byrne era is... to put it delicately, very predatory and abusive to the women in his life. John Byrne is also a far-right conservative and his politics in general bleed through a lot into his work, so I don't recommend it on... pretty much any level.

Lex Luthor: An Unauthorized Biography by James D. Hudnall

This comic contains Lex's Metropolis-based origin story, which would be his accepted origin from Crisis on Infinite Earths through the publication of Superman: Birthright. On top of lacking most of the aspects of Lex that most people who like him actually appreciate, this comic continues the Byrne-era trend of Lex being sexually predatory and physically abusive to the women in his life. You've been warned.

[wreckingtickles]

Bakugo's Overdue Class 1-B Apologies (SFW)

A short sequel of this drabble.

When Shoji and Deku finally give Bakugo a breather, he just. Conks out.

They let him rest. Shoji's satisfied, and besides, he looks kind of angelic when he's not talking. Or yelling. Or awake.

But if Bakugo thought his nightmare was over...

Because Kirishima hasn't received his apology yet. And who does he call to help him cash it, if not his good friend from 1-B Tetsutetsu.

Yes, Class 1-B is now a part of this as well.

Bakugo wakes up in pretty much the same predicament as before, with the two knuckleheads at either side of him.

They pretend they're praising his growth and muscle definition, but really, they're just tickling the shit out of his upperbody: pecs, abs, other muscles that give them an excuse to just make Bakugo lose his mind first thing in the morning.

They both reflexively target their own worst spots first: Kiri goes for his armpits and Tetsu for his chest.

Anyone other than Bakugo would find it comical how they sometimes reach for the same spot at the same time, getting in each other's way.

Instead of doing top-bottom half like the others, Kiri takes the left side and Tetsu the right, so at one point they're both digging into Bakugo's pits and ribcage at the same time.

Yeah, he loses his mind.

If the night's rest regenerated his stubborness, he's quickly breaking again.

Naturally he apologizes, but Kiri doesn't really care, he's just giving his bro a workout.

That may be why he breaks out his Quirk and his claws on Bakugo's armpits are just torture.

And Tetsu lets him take care of that spot while he works the rest of Bakugo's upperbody over.

If anyone thought Kirishima would be nice to him... no, he's really enjoying pushing him to his limit, making it an "extended training session".

They only stop when it's clear that Bakugo's stamina has been depleted. But this is far from over.

Kirishima actually prevents anyone from entering the room to give Baku a breather.

When he resumes cursing at everyone (he really doesn't know what's best for him), Kiri lets the next batch in.

It's a friggin' trio: Tsuburaba, Kaibara, and Shinsou.

Now, Shinso may have brainwashed the former two, but I don't think he needed to.

And they come in with a plan, for they have consulted with Deku.

Shinso goes for one of his own worst spots: Bakugo's feet. Kaibara takes his ribcage. Tsuburaba takes everywhere else, skipping from spot to stop, starting at his abs but eventually settling on alternating his underarms and thighs.

Now, when his classmates paired up on him, their Quirks made it feel like there were more than two people wrecking him.

But one of the three people currently intent on breaking him has a devastating Quirk of his own: Kaibara's spinning fingers.

And once they hone in on Bakugo's ribs, it's over. GG Bakugo.

Granted, it's not as bad as Shoji + Deku (nothing will ever be as terrible), but it's an extremely effective Quirk in his death spot, and the other two are going after his other worst spots.

Oh, and did I mention that Kirishima's turn has left him super sweaty, so he's that much more sensitive?

Fortunately for him, this group isn't as into making him pay as some others, so excruciating though it is, it doesn't last too long. In part because everyone is getting hungry.

So everyone leaves to have lunch, but before they do, Awase uses his Quirk to attach electric toothbrushes to every single one of Bakugo's most sensitive spots. He'll get a break if the batteries run out before they're back.

So they just leave Bakugo like that, enjoying a loooong lunch.

Now, everyone is actually for cutting Bakugo loose at this point, but one person protests: he hasn't gotten his turn yet.

When Bakugo sees Monoma darken Kirishima's doorway, he goes straight to apologizing, he just can't take anymore.

Too bad Monoma only wants to see him suffer, and the fact that he's already broken makes it even more fun for him.

Naturally, he's borrowed Deku's notebook so he can reference it at any time. And guess what 3 Quirks he's also borrowed? The obvious ones: Kaibara's, Tokoyami's, and Kaminari's. And he tells Bakugo before he proceeds to make him cry for well over an hour.

Bakugo is voiceless by the end of it, he can't even struggle anymore. And while he will eventually begin to plot revenge, he will be a lot nicer to everyone in the meanwhile.