#my useless superpower

[zazter-den]

This is giving me Shiggy day-collar vibes

[Shop]

[uncanny-tranny]

On the topic of hormones, the people who say that women, notably, are inherently weaker or less competent/competitive than men (especially physically) because of their estrogen are the same types of people to have said that women shouldn't run or ride trains because their uteruses would fly out of their bodies.

[aliensurvivalist]

Oh my goodness gracious

[raineandsky]

The World’s Most Useless Superpower

#17.2 (part 1) (part 2)

The agent passes the civilian an earpiece. She’s still in the stark black suit, but she’s finally taken the glasses off. Her eyes are a striking earthy brown, and he’s finding that it takes a lot of effort to avoid staring into them in awe.

“We’ll point you in the right direction,” she tells him sharply as he takes it from her. The superhero is standing next to her silently, staring at a computer screen at the desk. “Don’t worry, you’re in our domain. You’re completely safe from them.”

Them. The villain, sitting just in the other room – an interrogation room, probably one they’ve been seeing pretty regularly in recent times. The civilian can’t imagine making much of an impression on them, but he’s not here to impress. He’s here to get a fuck ton of cash.

He glances at them through the one-way mirror, watching them tug heartlessly at the handcuffs keeping them at the table as the agent carries on.

“We just need them to tell us who they work with and where we can find them.” She idly follows his gaze to the opposite room. “Anything else would be a bonus.”

He nods as he slips the ear piece into place. “It shouldn’t take long, I hope. People tend to go really downhill really fast.”

“That’s what we’re betting on. You can go in when you’re ready.”

The civilian heaves a deep breath to steel his nerves. “Good luck,” the superhero says rather suddenly, and the civilian gives the man a wonky, unsure smile in response before letting himself out of the observation room and into the fire.

The villain barely moves as he pushes the door open. They barely grace him with a moment's long glance, tsking in disappointment before their gaze drops back to their restraints. “They’re just letting anyone into the agency now, aren’t they?”

“Oh, I’m– I’m not a hero. They thought you might be up to talking to someone more normal,” he lies quickly, and from the way they quirk an eyebrow he can tell they don’t believe him.

“Sure. Let's talk, normal guy.”

“How’d you get caught?”

The villain tuts, turning to the one-way mirror. “You didn’t tell him?” they ask their reflection. “Botched bank robbery. Wasn’t expecting the hero that came. Caught us a little off guard.”

“That sucks. You should get better at robbing banks.”

They huff something of a laugh. “I’ll have to practise before I do it next time. Know any banks around here with a good bit of money in them?”

“Oh, I work minimum wage. I wouldn’t know,” he counters with a sigh.

“Sounds like you need to rob banks more than me. You can come along next time.” The villain smiles brightly, though the action is followed by a slight frown. The civilian knows exactly what that face means – he’s seen it in every conversation partner he’s had since the beginning of time.

“Keep at it. You’re doing great,” the agent pipes up, and he flinches. He forgot she was there.

“Ah, they’re talking to you, aren’t they?” they ask, bringing a hand as high as the cuffs will let them to point to their ear. “No amount of people talking in your ear will stop you from being bad at interrogating. You haven’t even tried to get anything out of me yet.”

Their hand falls back to the table a little heavily, but the civilian doesn’t say anything. “Too bad I have to interrogate you then, isn’t it?”

The villain is sporting a deep frown now, seemingly more annoyed than anything. “I’m kind of lightheaded,” they comment. “Can we do this another time?”

“Keep going,” the agent urges.

The villain leans their forehead against their hands with a groan. “I think the nasty prisoner food here has finally given me food poisoning. I feel kind of…”

“Drunk?” the civilian finishes with an innocent smile, and the villain’s expression turns sour. They look back up at him, squinting slightly against the harsh overhead lights. 

“What’d you do to me?” they demand, but the coldness of their tone is lost to the slight slur in their words.

“Nothing, really. Just making a guess.”

The villain points at them accusingly, and the action makes their sway in their seat slightly. “Bullshit,” they say, and the single word almost comes out in one sloppy syllable. “You… ugh…”

Their hands return to their forehead supportively. “You strike me as a depressed drunk,” the civilian continues. “Something bothering you?”

“Here is bothering me,” they say a little too quickly, and the words jumble together. “[Supervillain] would be mad if he found out I was here.”

“Keep them going,” the agent says carefully.

“Why?” he prompts, and they scoff tiredly. “Are you important to him?”

“He couldn’t live without me.” They go to spread their arms, but the cuffs stop them halfway. They huff in genuine disappointment, dropping their hands back to the table with a dull thud. “He doesn’t appreciate how much I do for him. Maybe my being here will finally make him see.”

“Couldn’t anyone else do what you do?”

The villain lets out a sharp “ha!” as if the mere notion is an insult. “They wish they could replace me. One of the other guys tried, fucking… V, I think it was. She thought she could take my place but she can’t do anything for [Supervillain]. She just follows him around like a lost puppy.” They lean back in their chair in a slump, tutting. “Pathetic.”

“V…?”

“Another villain we have on our watchlist,” the agent interjects. “This is good. Keep at it.”

“What is–”

“I’m a god compared to them,” the villain continues without thought. “At least you lot appreciate that I’m actually something worth catching. It’s nice to be seen, even if it’s by the heroes.”

“Wh–”

“Well, only the one hero really. They’re kind of hot, aren’t they? [Hero]?”

“Oh my god, they are a talker. This is so good,” the agent exclaims a little unprofessionally.

The civilian needs to intervene. “Uh, I–”

“They are, right? I know I shouldn’t but boy, what I wouldn’t give for a night with them.” They laugh shortly, the sound a little more violent than a sober person would make. “They’re pretty fierce in the streets. I wonder if they hate me enough for the sheets.”

How the villain is still talking this openly is beyond the civilian, even under his influence. He’s blushing, and he’s not even part of this. Their eyes are lidded by now, their fingers fiddling tiredly with the metal on their wrists, their face flushed – though whether that’s the drunkenness or the conversation he can’t say.

“Okay, that’s definitely something we can use against them,” the agent continues, clearing her throat to retain her steady voice. “Let’s get something about their friends out of them.”

Gladly. “[Villain], are y–”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like them. They’re an ass. But that makes them kind of…”

“[Villain]–”

“… hot, I guess? It’s not often you see someone so passionate. The blood stained look suits them and all.”

The villain sighs dreamily and he sees an opportunity. “[Villain], who’re you working with?”

“Oh, a bunch of dicks.” They laugh at their own joke despite the fact it’s not really a joke. The civilian can see an opening for blackmail, no matter how crude it might seem to the moral police watching them. “Why?”

“Every name you give me I can guarantee you five minutes with [Hero].”

“We never–” the agent starts, but she doesn’t get the chance to finish before the villain is listing people off as fast as their drunken daze will allow them. Within a minute the agency has the names of every villain in the network and the villain has two hours promised with the hero that they won’t remember getting by morning.

Taglist: @skys-fantasy

[pup-pee]

my chuunibyou dc oc that no1 knows about

AKA IM REDESIGNING LANDFILL AGAIN

[beaft]

i don't know whether it's my medication or my metabolism or what, but for some reason i have an uncanny resistance to almost all forms of psychedelics. every time i take LSD or magic mushrooms, the people i'm with will be full on hallucinating and i'll just be sitting there like :) might bake a cake later

[r-18g]

Your ability to find a doujin based on a vague description is incredible

thank you! ^-^

[mugzymiik]

THIS IS THE SECOND TIME I'VE REMEMBERED SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED EXACTLY A YEAR AGO

this was the first time:

[monkee-mobile]

see neftoon zamora is a weird book with an ending that kind of undermines a lot of the ideas presented in the book, but i love it a lot and i feel like a lot of people were turned off by it because they find it odd that mike made himself the main character and i just have to say… they’re not… their sp… one of their main special interests is not mike nesmith’s entire fucking past… they just think of him as the random monkee guy who invented mtv… so they don’t get it… they don’t get it like i do…

[pancake-breakfast]

Why do my favorite characters always die? I'm not allowed to have nice things, it seems. 😭

[jarognieva]

.

[thenightisland]

i will say that conference very literally paid off bc my job paid for all the stuff like hotel and gas and they gave me quite a bit for food each day way more than someone my size and appetite needs esp when the conference was also feeding us and then i won a big gift card in some raffle so even with all the book shopping i did while i was there i literally made a couple hundred dollars in profit going on a trip to a place i like lol. gonna count that as the first and only win of this year so far

[bythequeenmargaret]

I was listening to When a Demon Defiles a Witch by Whitechapel earlier, and while this is probably a testament to my uncanny ability to stretch anything in order to fit the Lancasters, I noticed that specific parts of the song fit Henry IV and Henry in relation to the death of Mary de Bohun. Especially this part:

Burn the bed, burn everything

It's a lie anyway

There's nowhere left to run

There's nowhere left for me to be

Without you by my side

How could the world take you from me?

They all deserve to burn with me

[astriiformes]

Wait, hang on, you're telling me there was an actual "I always dress for the occasion" Doctor Who TV movie joke in the most recent episode less than a week after I made my stupid Belos goop possession one. Did Flapjack Owlhouse die to appease the dodgeball of prophecy. It has been 26 years.

[hearts-hunger]

stumbled upon an up and coming boy band trying to bring back classic rock and thought “oh you know what, they're kind of cute and their music isn't half bad” and the first thing i found out about them is that two of them are twins. why does this always happen to me.