Prompt 27.
/////
Superhero lost his powers. Supervillain visits.
/////
“After awhile, they all stop visiting, don’t they?”
Supervillain sat in Superhero’s armchair and kicked his legs onto the ottoman. From his spot on the couch, Superhero eyed him, but made no motion to move from his drunken slump. He held his beer by its dew-slick neck and took a long swig before speaking.
“Sidekick texts. Sometimes.” He muttered into his glass.
“He’s getting picked up by [Other Superhero] next turnout.” Supervillain picked at the chair arm and flicked off a bit of debris.
Superhero’s slouch shifted a bit. He squared his shoulders, lifted his head, and turned toward Supervillain, eyes washed through with a clarity Supervillain hadn’t seen in months.
“No, he can’t. Not after….not after,” he whispered. The beer in his bottle sloshed in tandem with the tremor that took his hand. Quieter, he mumbles, “I trusted him.”
“I don’t waste my time with lies, [Superhero].”
“No,” Superhero leaned back and closed his eyes, swallowing down a panicked breath, “you just waste your time here, even though I can’t give you anything, the way I am now.”
Supervillain followed the roll of Superhero’s Adam’s apple, down then back up to the open tilt of Superhero’s jaw. “You can,” he paused, “one day, you will give me what I want.”
Still trembling, Superhero set his beer onto the coffee table, next to a second and third empty one. “Well you should take whatever it is already. So you can go and leave, like everyone else.”
“I can’t take it yet, that’d ruin the fun.” Supervillain smiled, slantwise and wicked-sharp.
“Don’t toy with me.”
“I wouldn’t. This matter is important and I’ve been very,” he rose from his chair, “very patient.
175 notes
·
View notes
probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
61K notes
·
View notes
As someone who’s living with a middle school social studies teacher, all the posts along the lines of “why did we never learn about this historical event in school” just make me go “because your teacher was supposed to cover all of US history in one year, and they didn’t get to the Revolutionary War until Halloween because they were urged to slow down the progression of the lessons because a more senior teacher was running behind, and they didn’t get to the Civil War until Valentine’s Day because the school kept scheduling every special event during social studies because there’s no end-of-grade testing for that subject, and they didn’t get to WWI until May because they were sick for a few days and the substitute couldn’t do much more than babysit, and now they’re having to do the entire Cold War in two days, so that’s why you didn’t hear about the lesbian inventor of the circus peanut. They would have loved to tell you about the lesbian inventor of the circus peanut!”
32K notes
·
View notes
if i had a nickel for every time netflix released a show about a diverse group of teenagers who become a found family while dealing with ghostly shenanigans that received critical acclaim and developed a passionate and loyal fanbase in spite of little promotion only to unceremoniously cancel it after one season for nonspecific reasons, i would have
four
goddamn
nickels
874 notes
·
View notes
he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
5K notes
·
View notes