#plus i really like powerful's comics

[vulturemimic]

@egpowerful's scugpup bebbles, my beloved <3

such a wet eyes pathetic little guy, my adored <3

[oozeandgoo-art]

[seaofreverie]

Delivery day!!!!!!!

[nyankoizumi]

victim fans stay away I’ve done ATROCITIES to their character /j

[tobiasdrake]

I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

[nazkarcito]

Saiki has a little sister au, part 3: telepathy [FULL COMIC UNDER THE CUT]

part one

part two

Kuriko seems meaner because this is from kusuke's perspective, and because she deserves to be mean sometimes idk.

somewhat ooc i know, i'm good at art but writing is a whole other deal. i wanted to go in a more absurd route like the source material and the results are... mixed.

Anyways, i thought it would be fitting for kuriko to have a few tricks under her sleeve even if she doesn't have powers. at first i thought it would be cool to make her able to completely negate psychic powers, but that would be too op, plus it would make kusuo's life too easy. For her to be just smart and silly enough to find a work-around kusuo's telepathy is way funnier i think.

In a longer version of this comic i was going to explain that, yes, she just makes her internal voice so small kusuo can't hear it [everyone can do it, but it's really difficult], and that he never noticed because he thought she would just... space out sometimes and not think of anything for 30 minutes or so

thanks for the support you have given me until now! it's been ages since a drawing of mine got this much love, i love this fandom

[brucewaynehater101]

I think it would be really funny if Tim kept up one very specific connection he made during Young Justice. One that no one but Tim and his team know about. One of the most dangerous beings in all the Universe.

Lobo The Space Biker.

The Main Man Himself, who has either tied or beaten Superman in a number of different comics *and* shows. When he showed up during the Justice Leauge Animated show, the entire JL (minus Clark) had to work together to just *barely* keep him in line and even *then* they did not command full authority nor respect from him. He is a top tier threat almost everytime he is spotted.

And I can only think of one person who he canonically will do basically whatever they say.

Tim Drake.

Tim managed to reign Lobo in multiple times during their adventures together, and no I don't mean the weaker clone. I mean The Real Actual Lobo (who had been turned into a teen by Klarion at the start of their friendship but *still*) does what if asked of him by Tim Drake, up to and including *walking away from unfinished fights*. Evidence by the time Tim got him to not fight the Space Cops right before The Baseball Game and got him and Big Bear to stop fighting when both wanted to continue.

All this to say, some kind of all hands on deck happens and the JL needs some back up for some kind of invasion and Tim says, "I have someone who owes me a few favors and it pretty strong." And makes a phone call. All the JL can hear is Tim as he says, "hey, Lil- I'm cashing in a favor... Yeah there's an invasion about to happen... Yes, you are the first person I call for Cracking Skulls, of course.... yes well, with or without you it's happening in an hour. Get here sooner and after we can have an extra meeting... of course I'll make the usual tea, plus Lavender and Rose cookies~... yes I know you very well.... see you in 25 minuets Lil." And he hangs up.

30 minutes later, Lobo breaks into the Watch Tower and the whole JL is like "WE DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS DAMN IT." until Tim walks past them saying, "Lil! I got some cookies, they're chocolate chunk." And Lobo simply replies, "you know me so fraggin well, Runt."

Tim gets placed on Lobo's shoulder and they start talking about where Lobo will be so he can Crack the most skulls.

I don't know enough about Lobo (so thank you for the explanations), but I am all for Tim's friendship powers.

I don't know how he does it, but he's constantly nestling himself into villainous or morally grey characters' soft spots. Is there a list out there of folks that, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't like Tim but got bedazzled by his friendship charm?

Anyways, I'd love a 5 plus one fic of Tim being like: "Oh? We've got this problem? Hold up. I know a guy." Then he just calls up someone he definitely shouldn't be friends with. They act like the best of buds, too.

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3

You weren’t a powerful Overlord nor were you the weaker ones to have their souls owned by other demons to survive in this hellhole. You’re merely capable enough to get by your everyday life. Like always, you’d stay clear from any of ongoing battles or powerful demons that were out and about. Your keen 6th sense to pinpoint potential dangers was always your go-to during your outings

You kind of treated Hell as your paradise to shut-in in your room and read all the comics you want plus watch all the TV shows you want. You were one of the rare demons that get connection to the Earth realm where you can enjoy the guilty pleasures you spend your days doing. Of course, your death was a suicide as you saw no life ahead of you

But you really really should have stayed in that day. It started out as any other day in Hell and you were on your way to the usual supermarkets for the junk food and drink you love. Normally, it was uneventful, until you caught sight of a dying demon, no, ‘wounded’ would be the right word since demons would only demon by angelic blades, even you knew that. Still, the demon was heavily wounded

It must have been a good few minutes since you caught weaker demons attempting to take advantage of the weakened demon as easy prey. You immediately took out your notebook, scribbing a phase before tearing it out and blow on it lightly. The page turned to white sparkles before taking shape of a row of angelic spears around you, it launched at the weak demons before they could do anything to the wounded one

You took went to the wounded demon quickly as your spears faded to nothing after doing its damage. You held his limb hand and closed your eyes, visualizing your cozy apartment and the ground swallowed the two of you up. In the blink of an eye, you were back home, sighing in relief

Not even a moment, you were knocked to the ground and pinned down by your shoulders and thigh. You struggled a bit before you realized it was the wounded demon that was pinning you down with radio dials for eyes

Without thinking, you reached into your coat pocket and took out a piece of paper, slamming it onto his face and blew at it. The paper faded to nothing but sparks then the demon stilled before closing his eyes and slumping forward onto you. Unconscious. But you invited someone you shouldn’t have into your home

This had to be Alastor, the Radio Demon

You grimaced, eying Alastor on top of you sleeping like a harmless deer. You thought of throwing him back out into the streets, but you didn’t exactly have the heart to. You came to the conclusion of healing him as fast as you could then sending him on his merry way! Yes!

Noooo!!! Why is he still here!?!?!?!?!?!?!??????!!!!!

“My dear, you really should be taking more care of your diet. This is hardly filling or healthy for you.” Alastor eyed the cup noodle you were about to open up like you were holding trash “But it’s fast and gets my hunger sated.” You eyed back, “It’s not like I’m feeding you this. I cook for your meals anyways…” You continued roaming around the kitchen, rubbing a fork, and setting a timer for your food. Ignoring the closeness of Alastor. “As long as it doesn’t concern you, it’ll be fine. I’ll treat you better since you just healed up. These are my own indulgence.” “And I appreciate your hospitality, dear, truly, I do. The matter at hand is your consumption!” Alastor grabbed your precious cup noodle lunch away, “I shall take over your meals from now on.”

Yes, you have fully healed Alastor and he’s back to full health. No, you didn’t tell him to stay. In fact, the moment his wounds were all healed, you showed him the open door, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t exactly let you make him leave. He said he was staying to repay your kindness, but all he was doing was inserting him into your afterlife and really making it Hell

At first, he praised your unique power to summon anything you write with a gentle blow, especially the part where you put him to sleep the first time. Then he urged you to make a name for yourself, but you really just want to shut yourself in your room and indulge in your time-wasting hobby. You told him off and shut yourself in your room, but he would just appear through the shadows and apologise, saying he’d leave the matter

When that whole business was done, Alastor got worse. You’re positive some other demons would love to be treated this way, but you’re just weirded out. It started out small, Alastor making meals like he said, shifting your schedule to a healthier one. Then taking care of your needs whenever you are about to do something. Even as simple as getting a glass of water

Then it escalated to touches. A handholding here, maybe he’s lean into you while reading. Or he’ll lay next to you in your own bed. Shift closer to you while on the couch. Stare at you while you were busy reading manga or watching animes and shows. Plus you could feel him staring at you while you sleep from the shadows even though you told him not to

But the most unnerving thing was when you would go restock on your food and other supplies. Alastor being the gentleman would carry and pay for your stuff. That you’re used to and didn’t care since either way, you had your methods. It was what happens during the two of you walking

“Alastor…” You hugged your coat tighter as your lips pressed together tightly from the scene, your eyebrows furrowed from the tense situation you were in. You had just left the shop to get new books and volumes, only to be met with such a sight. “What…” “My darling, your timing is perfect.” Alastor threw away the torn body of what used to be a demon. The street was covered with a layer of thick red and black blood. Hellborns and sinners alike were all brutally ripped away by the fearsome Radio Demon. “These pest dares to look at you wrongly, surely they deserve a good, limb pulling.” He walked over to you with his ever-present smile, offering his clean hand. “Shall we head home, My Doe?” You feel yourself tense as you firmly told him, “Just because they stare at me a little long and spat out rude remarks, it’s not an excuse or reason to torture them like this. I’m… I don’t exactly mind unless they attack.” Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, “Dearie, why give them the chance to harm you when I can prevent it? You can name and point fingers, I’ll be your killer.”

Trapped was what you felt at home and anywhere, as long as Alastor was there, you didn’t like it. Those sweet romantic gestures and attention from him that you would only see in your books and shows left a bad taste in your mouth. 

At the 4th year, however, something changed. Alastor sold his soul to you as the ‘last’ act of pure devotion and loyalty to you. Since the contract was all by your rules, you made use of it

Limit Alastor’s powers because it scares you how much he could do and the destruction he could cause. Forbid him from devouring or owning souls because he does it so easily when he thinks you were wronged in any way. And most importantly, forbid him from disobeying your words, whatever they may be, that way, you can finally have peace

How Alastor was still able to be this unnerving, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. Somehow, the contract was something like a declaration that the two of you were romantically involved with ecah other? If it made sense. It didn’t, really

Alastor still stayed with you because he had told you a long time ago that his home was destroyed in a brutal battle, hence why you found him that battered. So you offered yours. You did manage to set some firmer ground rules with the contract’s help. Like no entering your room or throwing away your junk food

Though Alastor still plays a big part in your life just because. You had wanted a lover before, but Alastor had proven how bad a relationship could go, and you two didn’t even established anything! You love fiction, fiction is life or afterlife. You can just drown yourself in the world of fiction and never leave

That’s the basis of your power. It’s like summoning through writing and the faint blow from your lips. You have to be aware of the components though, the hardest to summon was definitely the angel spears. It was the day after extermination and a spear was stuck into a demon, you were curious and took it back with you. You studied it and tested it out, knowing its strength and limitations before actually attempting to summon it. Works well enough, since it was easy to study

In the blink of an eye, 7 years had already passed. While Alastor was out on buying new ingredients for your celebration dinner of surviving another extermination, you caught the Princess of Hell and her promotion on the ‘Happy Hotel’. A place that welcomes anyone, a place that gives anyone a chance. It sounds lovely, but you didn’t have the mentality and energy to help out

A foolproof plan came to mind. You could, no, should send Alastor there. He loves entertainment! He wouldn’t be bored there! The hotel is much bigger and there’s more people there for him to hang out with. Plus he would definitely get a room there since he’s going to be staying. Even when he disagrees, because you just know he would rather stay by your side, you can use the contract as a last resort

“My dear!” Alastor greeted the moment he came back from his little shopping. He gave you a peak on the crown of your head when he walked past you, then headed to the table to place the bags of items down. “Did you hear about that ridiculous plan the Princess told in the picture box? Hahaha! It’s sure to fail! No way in any universe would just a silly and childish thing happen! No, sir!” “I want to help her with it, it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than annual exterminations.” You spoke while coming over to check the things Alastor brought. “But you know I’m more of a home person and not the go-out and help-others type.” “Exactly, dearie, we need not care for such fantasy.” Alastor nodded along. “That’s why you’re going in my place.” You stated firmly without blinking or shifting in your spot, at the growing static, you looked up to see Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dial. Very rarely are those directed at you since he swore he’d never do you harm or wish you harm. “You’ll go and help the Princess to make it a success.” Alastor’s eyes shifted back to normal, narrowing as he asked, “Till how long, my dear?” You had to control yourself to hide a smile as you spoke, “For as long as it takes of course. You can’t rush redemption, right? And it’s the first of its kind too.” The static grew again, you knew Alastor was getting annoyed with such a wish (order) from you. “But this would take a long while. I’d be returning to check on you, yes?” “Oh, no. Can’t interrupt your work.” You said, carrying your pile of snacks to your little comfort corner and dropping it with huff, there was a skip in your step as you returned back to the table. “You can’t come back here nor see me when in the service of the Princess. Well, you can see me when I’m the one to approach you or call for you, that’s the only exception.” Alastor would have a frown on by now if it weren’t for his insistence on the power of smiles, “Who would take care of you? Who would watch over you? Who would tend to you? Who would protect you while I’m gone, sweetheart?” You laughed, “Don’t be so dramatic. I can handle myself. It’s just like before I met you,” You didn’t miss the radio crackling like it broke connection, “But this time, I have you as a backup should I need.”

Making Alastor leave you wouldn’t have been possible without the contract and the fact that his soul was yours to control. Very pushy but you had to do what you had to, it was all to regain that quiet and isolated shut-in life you love. Never have you missed the silence in your home and the void of a watchful gaze all around you

You squealed and smiled brightly, “Time to chill and laze around!”

Oh how the Radio Demon was fuming as he made his way to that ratchaed hotel. He shouldn’t have let you know of such a news. If that inferno picture box was broken, then you wouldn’t know. No, you have your phone, so that makes no difference. Maybe it was the fact that that cannibal chef was gone that Charlie had time to promote that idea of hers? 

This would be his first appearance since 7 years ago. He kept his presence gone from the public eye just to hide his connection and fancy towards you. If demons knew you had his soul, who knows what danger you’d be in? He can’t let that happen to you. No, you were the kind soul that saved him and gave him a place to belong. Truly belong

Never had he felt such a sense of comfort around someone so lazy and chill. The fact that you were average but powerful in your right that you humble yourself to blend in with others. To live your afterlife as you please and like without a care in the world. So long as your interest was sated

He just couldn’t help but want to be yours. You deserve it, after all

But now. Now he had to provide his attention and care to some princess’ dream! What joke is this?!

Were you sending him away because he wasn’t strong enough? You limited his powers to see if he could still be as strong as before. Was that the reason? What other demon held your attention? As far as he knew. You have no interest in forming connections. He was the first one you actually cared for and hosted your home for! You don’t even own other souls and you’re strong!

He was your only one. Only!

In front of the hotel, he knocked rhythmically, waiting patiently for the door to be opened and for him to introduce himself. He’ll show you. “Hel—” The door closed shut in his face before it opened again, “-lo!”

His ears twitched as he heard the ruckus inside. These souls don’t deserve your time and attention spent on them, he’ll deal with the problem like always and return to your side. He’ll show you just how powerful and cruel he is and can be

The door opened again and he introduced himself with his plan in mind. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, princess. Quite a pleasure!”

Note: I really really didn't mean to do this so long... I could have put it into 2 parts, but I was too lazy to. There was actually some more I wanna add, but then it will be a literal essay. Anyways~ How you like this one?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

[uzukibeans]

lots of speculation over how round 7 between luka and till will turn out! and its had me thinking about the presence of recurring motifs and how the main ensemble are foils of each other.

i know that many people like to joke about how sua and ivan are genderbends of each other/basically siblings... but in my honest opinion, i think the parallels between the two (similar hair styles and having the more subdued personality of the pairing) are to throw us off about what we know about hyuna and luka lol.

sua and ivan's similarities are to emphasize their situational differences, highlighted by the comic where ivan expressed envy over sua not being in an unrequited love situation (yeah i know that's literally what the definition of a literary foil is, but hear me out LOL). so in that sense i feel that they're not really as similar as it seems?

i personally think that sua has more similarities to luka than she is with ivan, excluding her relationship with mizi. both in terms of their upbringing as being treated like dolls and how their resting face is kind of empty when they're not with mizi/hyuna respectively lol. plus their listless acceptance of the lethal circumstances they exist in

tbh even the childhood dynamic between mizisua and hyuluka (before the hyunwoo thing...of course...) is pretty similar, with mizi/hyuna dragging sua/luka around

i think by emphasizing the similarity between luka and sua, it reframes the events that happened in round 5. while luka probably was purposefully exploiting mizi's grief, it does come to question how much of the cutting shots between the two was mizi seeing sua in luka.

so how does this relate to round 7 between till and luka? there's a lot of speculation that luka will demolish till by pulling the same schtick he did with mizi -- and conversely there's a lot of speculation that vivinos and qmeng will subvert expectations by having till somehow overcome his depression by becoming numb to luka's tricks.

here's a third idea i haven't seen being brought up: luka seeing hyuna in till. i propose this idea because i think we can make some comparisons between till and hyuna. both of them are the most rebellious of the ensemble, both had a tendency to roughhouse as children, and both's choice of music genre is very high-powered with a heavy emphasis on the guitar (i want to say they both have that rock and roll vibe but unfortunately music isn't my forte and i don't want the genreheads to get on my ass LOL).

and now suddenly it feels like the random tidbits we get about luka's interactions with till feels like they're hinting towards something:

[yakichoufd]

I got that issue thinking I would have a fun read and it was interesting but so disappointing too. There will be a of lof of spoilers here, so don't read my post if you want to enjoy that story first. It will also become an illustrated "fanfiction" cause I had to draw few things haha! I liked that Scott and Alex's parents survived their plane crash and both boys could have a normal childhood. The story is from Alex's point of view which is quite interesting. He barely remembers the plane accident, but Scott does (even if he never talks about it, but him remembering that event is important). Alex doesn't really know where he belongs since his big brother is "great at everything". Scott is great at school, sport, he has friends, he cares for his baby brother etc... and Alex feels like he is living in his brother's shadow. Then Scott get his mutation and get a personnality switch. Even if he controls his beams, he still freaks out and panics most of the time (which is fair, his power is very destructive after all). Then the story takes a direction I did not enjoy, so I won't talk about it. I will just explain what I would have liked to read instead. I would have loved for the two brothers to bond over what Scott was dealing with. For once Alex's big brother needed help and support. Alex could have been there for his so "perfect" big brother. It could have reversed their roles and boost Alex's confidence. It could have create a deep relationship between the two brothers.

Scott is traumatised by the plane accident. He has a nightmare seeing aliens looking after them when their plane hit the ground. It is during that nightmare that Scott's power manifests. Maybe him freaking out about his powerful mutation is linked to that traumatic event. Maybe he is scared of destruction since their plane got hit by alien's weapons? Maybe he thinks the aliens did this to him? I don't know but he is a very scared kid who is cclearly afraid of that attack. Scott could have talk about that to his parents. They are very supportive and caring. That story could have grown their family bond stronger. Plus both brothers have a destructive mutation, that could have made them closer than ever. Continuing with that alternative universe. Xavier gives up on Scott a bit too fast (which makes little sense imo) but I would have find it interesting that a less awkward Scott meet Warren, Hank, Bobby and Jean. He could have joined the mansion still as a lost teenager but his social understanding would have been so much better.

I do not think he would have fall for Jean like he did in the comics. Maybe he would never have fall for her since he was popular back home. I think comic Scott always fell for Jean because she was so perfect and he was a lost kid who had nothing but a lot of love to give. Or he could fall for her once he is more mature. I love that HC that Scott is a bisexual bean, so he could have had a boyfriend back home. Bobby could have understand himself a bit faster seeing Scott with another boy.

Scott being in a loving family he would be at ease with his sexuality and he and his family's popularity in town made everyone accepting everything easily. However Scott still being afraid about his mutation, he wouldn't have tell anyone why he went to Xavier's mansion. Whcih would confure his mutant friends a lot. Scott could still have trouble with accepting who he is and how his loved ones see him which will be his personnal dilemma.

(Todd is the OC boyfriend haha) Warren and Scott could have been close friends and maybe more. Angel is a very caring character too and he would have understand Scott's scasred mind. I think Scott could still have being brainswhased to become a child soldier (which would terrified his parents) but it would have helped Scott to accept his power. He could still become an amazing field leader but I do not think he would have stayed under Xavier's manipulation long. He would have take his own path eventually. He has the confidence and his years with the X-men would have created his network. I think that AU has a lot of potential and it didn't need to become over dramatic as the original issue did. Siniter could have shown up later or not at all. I do not think he needs to be present in Scott's life in every universe. Being a mutant is already hard as it is, you can always find dama around that if you want a dramaticc story.

[urhoneycombwitch]

hold me like water

foreword: followup to my unofficial eddie x shy!reader series. not necessary to read in order but here’s one and two if u want. this takes place after the events of s4 but everyone (including the trailer sorry i’m too attached) is mostly fine and so is the town. except for all that pesky PTSD… lol. written epilogue-style but I just wanted to give them something soft… not done w them yet!!

cw: PTSD, nightmares, trauma bonding, medical stuff, scarring/wounds, light smut post-traumatic event, R has breasts+a vagina, R wears a bikini

wc: 3k

___

For the first month, you don’t leave the trailer.

More specifically, you don’t leave Eddie. 

While he’s recovering from the attacks, you confine yourself to his room; Wayne had pulled in a comfy armchair for you when he realized you’d been sleeping on Eddie’s floor for three nights in a row, just to be closer to him than the guest bed down the hall. 

Now, with the chair, you’re actually getting some sleep at night- enough to tend to Eddie’s wounds every morning and evening without yawning comically loud. 

After the first few weeks of healing, while Eddie is still tender but learning to walk shakily with the use of a cane, you still stick to the boundaries of the trailer. Neither of you really want to go anywhere, anyways: Hop’s instructions to keep a low profile while the dust settles on the murder investigation have to be taken seriously. 

Plus, Eddie and you are very well taken care of by your friends-turned-family. Anything you could ever want for shows up on your doorstep and kitchen counters by a rotating crew of familiar faces; Mrs. Byers brings groceries and finds excuses to stay longer, busying herself by making tea, doing the dishes; Mrs. Wheeler brings casseroles and her son, who steals Eddie away for intense D&D discussions (Eddie made Mike interim DM, and the power’s really gone to his head). 

The trailer is almost always filled during the day, bikes in a heap on the front strip of grass, Beemer parked at an angle to avoid a popped tire. Steve picks up Eddie’s medication every Friday, brings it over along with a bunch of VHS’s and Robin. Sometimes Jonathan and Argyle join in on movie nights, too, and Nancy when she’s not busy with work.

It’s easy and peaceful, spending time with people who understand and share the same traumas. People who don’t stare at the bandages or Eddie’s cane or ask why you won’t leave the trailer any more. 

The government officials from the now-defunct Hawkin’s lab call every few days, wall-mounted landline ringing like a toll bell at 3pm sharp. You tell them the same thing, every time, curt and firm- if they want to interrogate you and Eddie, they’ll damn well have to come here. Or drag you, kicking and screaming.

Steve asks about it one afternoon, naive and confused with the force of your phone slamming- “Y’know, they probably just want you to sign one of those Don’t-Talk-About-This papers and give you a bunch of money. I heard they’re setting up college funds for all the kids-”

“Good for them.” Your dry remark cuts in smoothly from the couch, hand on Eddie’s knee as a lifeline. In a voice wobbly with anger, eyes glittering with unshed tears, your chin tilts up, defiant- “It’s the least they can do. I want them to look me in the eyes when they try to grovel for my silence. For Eddie’s. After all they fucking did to us, to the town-”

Eddie’s hand slips over yours, squeezes. Steve raises his hands in a placating gesture, surrendering with haste, then retreats to the kitchen for movie night snacks. 

“Never heard you so bossy before,” Eddie murmurs, at the shell of your ear. Goosebumps cascade across your neck when he rests his heavy palm there, cold rings warming to the temperature of your skin. “Goin’ to bat for me. It’s hot.”

You’re a couple of steps removed from the quiet, shy thing Eddie’s known for years. Seeing the love of your life almost bleed out in an alternate dimension will do that to a person.

Owens shows up at the trailer one morning, at the end of summer after all the phone calls provide no results. Him and two of his muscliest-looking lab guys are met by you in the threshold of the door, arms crossed and somehow looking fierce despite the fuzzy blue bathrobe you’re swathed in.

“The goons stay outside.” Your word is final. Even the doctor knows it.

The two men in coats settle on either side of the porch, while Owens is allowed to sit at the kitchen table indoors, accepting a mug of coffee Eddie generously supplies (you certainly aren’t in a hospitable mood, glaring daggers at him from the opposing chair).

Predictably, the doctor explains he’s here with some NDA’s for both you and Eddie to sign, the shiny promise of a government-allotted chunk of change waiting on the other side.

Hidden from view under the table, your fingertips skate over Eddie’s palm, lying open and pliant for you. Calmly, like you’re stating the weather, you tell Owens to double his offer.

By the time he’s done using your phone, Owens is wiping sweat from his forehead with a kerchief. Once the papers are signed, him and the lab goons load back into the shiny black car like silent sentries. 

They leave, and Eddie laughs, a full, rich noise that makes your heart ache. His fist slams the table in excess of humor, mugs jumping with a clink. “Goddamn. You just made the richest guy in Hawkins run off with his tail between his legs.” 

“Pretty sure Harrington Senior has him beat,” you mutter around the rim of your coffee, unable to repress the satisfied smirk that tugs at your lips. 

The payoff is a sickening amount, more money than you or Eddie have ever seen- enough to send you both to college, twice, with a hefty nest egg for the future leftover. You put the bulk of yours in a savings account, just so you don’t get dizzy looking at the numbers. 

Eddie does the same, with the exception of a down payment on the vacant trailer at the end of the park. Along with the new place, Wayne gets a fresh mattress, a couch that doesn’t have holes, and a proper, working stereo to play all his “old man country” tapes (in Eddie’s words). The quiet and deep thankfulness Wayne gives you both makes you feel like you’d do it all over again, like the fight was all worth it for the Laz-E-Boy in the corner and the new mug collection shelf. 

Eddie floats the idea of college again, now that you’ve got the funds to make it possible. You’ve certainly got the time, too- neither of you have any need to work long shifts at the diner or garage anymore. 

Unfortunately, this makes it all the more easy to form reclusive habits. By autumn, the solidness of your refusal to leave the trailer has less to do with helping Eddie than it does with your own fear of what lies beyond the comfort of your home. 

Most days, you work on healing. Eddie’s still your lifeline, gentle encouragement turning stern when you need it the most- he talks you into visiting Max by yourself, a veritable feat; the short walk between the two trailers feels like death, your knock shaky with nerves. It feels horrifying, to walk the thin line of being both braver and more scared than you’ve ever been.

You stay for an hour. The next day, for two- Max has a new kitten that passes the time easily, the girl giggling behind her new thick-rimmed glasses while pulling string across the floor for the tiny thing to pounce on. One night, you bring dinner for both the Mayfields and stay well past supper; it’s nearly 11 by the time you return to Eddie’s open arms, triumphant in your success with a tupperware of Mrs. Mayfield’s cookies to boot.

Your bravery builds in increments. Eddie cleans the rust from his van that’s been sitting untouched since spring, and takes you on drives that go a bit farther each time. The Byers’ place for lunch, Dustin’s to pick up an extra radio, then all the way to north Hawkins for more of Mrs. Wheeler’s plastic-wrapped dishes she asks you to relieve her of. 

When winter rolls around, Steve takes advantage of his now-permanently empty home to throw a holiday party. It’s loud with chatter and overwhelming with noise but it feels so good to be surrounded by it, by everyone, Eddie’s hand a steady comfort on your waist or lower back as you eat and drink and make merry with your friends. 

Hop pulls it off, a Christmas miracle- all the murders get pinned on Jason, buried six feet under with parents who skipped town ages ago. You’re out for groceries one cold morning and realize that not a single shopper has even given Eddie a second glance, conspicuous as he is in black leather and flashy silver jewelry. 

The strings loosen with a sigh, fluttering in release, allowing some space for you both to breathe.

Sex has been… different, lately. There’s been lots of readjusting, both physically and mentally- accounting for unforeseen muscle spasms, bone-deep bruises hidden beneath rippled skin, tissue and scarring pulled taut, testing the limits of new pains.    

The first time, just a few weeks after the attacks, Eddie had begged to go down on you. He wanted the comfort of your thighs, your taste and scent, all-consuming, to think about anything else other than his wounds. 

You’d been more than hesitant, terrified of hurting him, of letting your focus shift inwards. More in your head than ever, it took Eddie over an hour to coax an orgasm from the walls that’d been built back up around your pleasure; even with his lithe tongue and long, seeking fingers, it took forever and an age to get you anywhere close to the edge.

Eddie didn’t complain once- in fact, he kind of got off on the amount of time you let him spend between your legs. The muscles in his right arm were trembling by the time you clamped down on his fingers, jaw burning but keeping the suction at your clit even while your hips rolled strong as a tidal wave against his face.

And before you could open your mouth to apologize, or say something equally silly, panting and wrung-out and heartbreakingly beautiful against the pillows, Eddie’s teeth flashed at the inside of your thigh. 

You’d jolted, breathless and giggly, endorphins soaring as he’d tenderly crawled up the length of your body to slip his tongue between your lips, sharing the earthy tang of your release. 

“One more,” he’d said, uninjured arm taking the bulk of his weight while he dipped down to mouth at your breast. “And this time, put your hands in my hair. I’m getting jealous of the sheets.”

As Eddie’s physical limitations lessen with time, your mental barriers ease, as well. There’s still some stilted moments of relearning, of working together in bodies that don’t always respond the way you want them to. 

There are raw, stripped-open emotions that have you clawing at Eddie’s back, his nails leaving indents on the flesh of your hips. To keep pressure off the worst of his side wounds, you find new positions, usually some form of your thighs draped over his or the welcome weight of you in his lap. 

He’s endlessly patient. The kind of patient that makes you want to run, far and fast, and he knows it; when your pleasure recedes, frustration in the form of tears and hands pressed to your face, Eddie’s there to soothe. To try a new angle, to slow down or speed up, offering a break or an extra pillow to keep you comfortable and feeling good. 

If you were comforted by each other’s presence during the night before the Spring Break from hell, it’s tenfold now. Neither of you will sleep a wink if Eddie’s not wrapped around you like a koala, snoring gently, overheated and tacky with sweat by morning but neither willing to compromise the closeness. 

Nightmares are easier to handle, too- you’re there to soothe the sweat-coated bangs from Eddie’s forehead when he wakes up whimpering in fear, coaxing his panic and adrenaline back down. He’s so fine-tuned to the rhythms of your body that even though your own nightmares rarely end in noise, Eddie often wakes anyways from the disturbance in your breaths. 

Just as you do for him, sometimes all it takes to get you back to sleep is a tender voice, a stroke of the arm, a reassurance in the dark that he’s with you. 

A year after it all happened, Eddie hears you singing in the shower.

If he wasn’t craning to hear the gentle splashing noises as confirmation of your presence, he would’ve missed it. Eddie leans with his good shoulder on the wood frame, door partially cracked to let the melody of your voice float through.

Stevie Nicks is crooning sweetly from the handheld radio on the bathroom counter, and you, just as sweet and twice as pretty singing along. 

Eddie closes his eyes, puts a hand to his chest; through the fabric of his shirt he feels the raised, bumpy edges of scar tissue, but there’s something beyond it. Curling around his heart, making it ache- it feels like healing. Like getting better, at least well enough to sing.

He’s dumbstruck with it. 

That summer, he takes you to Lover’s Lake.

It’s just the two of you, which makes it easy for Eddie to go shirtless; currently, he’s enjoying the way you’re watching him from the back of the van, bare feet swinging and paired with a killer black bikini that he begged you into.

He’s not so sure the scars that criss cross his front and sides are as “metal” as you claim they are, but he’s trying. He’d drag himself over hot coals just to get half a smile; going shirtless is nothing. 

You reach for him, and he walks into the V of your legs willingly, your arms wrapping around his torso, head pressed to the middle of his sternum. Eddie plants his hands on either side of your hips, drops his chin to fit you under it.

“Come swim with me.”

In response, you sigh- a longsuffering, worried sort of noise that leaves your lungs and enters his. He’s been trying to talk you into it for weeks- it’s a miracle he’s gotten you both this far, dressed and ready to take the plunge. 

Eddie’s not really sure why this swim is so important to him. It might have something to do with the fissure at the bottom of the lake, all scabbed over and sewn back together; or maybe it’s the surface, skimmed by a light breeze  and rippling gently, nothing of monsters or alternate dimensions leftover to disturb the placidity. 

Eddie wants to prove that it’s safe, for you and for himself. That the nightmares and the sticky feelings and the tears, they all mean something, of course they do- but the only way to is through. 

So he takes you by both hands and you only drag your feet a little until he’s walking backwards on the shore, water lapping up to his ankles, and you freeze. Heels digging into the wet earth, tense under Eddie’s grasp, eyes wide and darting around like something might come crashing through the treeline.

“Hey. Look at me.” In a voice that’s reserved for you and you alone, Eddie speaks softly, calmly, letting out all the tension of his pull to just hold, instead. “You’re safe. There’s nothing out here that’s gonna hurt us, okay? Steve went all the way back down to the bottom to make sure. No more gate. No nothin’. It’s just a lake.”

“Just a lake,” you repeat, like a mantra as you take another step. The water rolls over your feet; Eddie murmurs his encouragement while leading.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s just a lake. Our lake.”

The water rises, up the back of Eddie’s calves, swishing around your shins; the pebble-rock floor shifts with each step. You and Eddie used to spend long summer days here, swimming and picnicking and fucking in the back of the van, syrupy-slow and stretched with time. 

“Our lake.” You’re shivering, teeth chattering, even though the air is hot and the water is just-cool.

Eddie rubs at your upper arms, allaying the goosebumps; waterline up to your waists, now. The rock you’re balanced on beneath the surface jolts, and you stumble forward into Eddie’s arms; in a smooth maneuver, he catches you while sinking into a crouch, pulling you both from the safety of the shallows.

Then, your kicking feet meet nothing but the vastness of the lake, nails biting into Eddie’s arms, fear rattling through your spine until Eddie- treading water while valiantly supporting you, too- tosses his black hair back and whoops. 

The sound is loud, joyful, ricochets across the lake and bounces back from the other shore. He crows at the sun, startles a laugh out of you as he clings harder, kicking to keep you both afloat- “Holy SHIT! We’re swimming in Lover’s Lake!”

“Holy shit,” you agree, giddy and breathless, nerves turning over into disbelief, excitement. “We’re swimming in our lake.”

Eddie kisses you. It’s sloppy and he misses the middle of your mouth as you both try to keep the other from slipping under, teeth clashing, giggles escaping around the sides. He puts a hand dripping with lake water to your cheek, holding you in place, thumb pressing gentle just under your eye. 

“I love you.”

“Love you.” Your reply is swift and just as eager, hand coming to rest at the puckered line of scarring at Eddie’s chest. 

Somewhere at the bottom of Lover’s Lake, a twin crack, a Something that was never supposed to be but now just Is. 

You feel extraordinarily grateful, awash with we made it, as you and Eddie swim out further, shores in the shape of a heart holding you both from all sides.

[lavandaea]

smooth talker, powerful supernatural beings who are fluent in sarcasm and graduated from insufferable school being in love absolutely fucking whipped will always be my kind of thing.

I'm actually feral for that concept. Fight me if you dare.

Plus points if their partner it's as strong minded and colorful vocabularied/ eloquent as them.

Plus plus points if it's a love-hate relationship, full of bickering and unwanted feelings, DENIAL.

PLUS PLUS PLUS if they are a sad broken black cat (or smug orange, I won't complain) like who has lost all faith in humanity and could not care less about anything than themselves but actually the only thing they want more is some love and hugs and kisses. This being with or without their knowledge.

And then, their partner comes into their lives like saying "let me remind you how wonderful existing it's"

"Because I love you!"

"wait, WHY AM I JEALOUS?"

"what in the name of FUCK IS THIS APPARENTLY NAMED FEELING"

"Me?" points at themselves "with them?" looks at them doing the most weirdest thing. "Nah, there's no way".

"Who did this to you?" AAAAAAAAAAAA

The unbeatable "you are useful to me for this reason"/ I'm keeping you alive for this reason". At first it's true, BUT time goes on...and feelings are developed, they start using it as an excuse to protect them, to keep them close. To hide the undeniable truth.

UNTIL. THEY. DON'T. It's the moment they just want to be with them and could actually care less about what anyone says about it. They love this person and they want to make them happy.

It will always, always, always melt my heart the moment when A and B are looking at something really pretty, really nice and A says or asks "It's beautiful"/"Isn't it beautiful?"

And B that at first may have been looking at it says:

"Yes"

And then turns to A with that look of "I've loved you since the day I met you" to continue with

"It's beautiful"

I'll tell you, it never gets old for me.

PAST LIVES

SLOW. BURN.

SHARING HOUSE

SHARING BED

PARTNERS IN CRIME

TENDING WOUNDS

HAVING👏 EACH OTHER'S 👏 BACKS

THE ABSOLUTE LOOSERISM. I already kinda said it, but this is important shit.

GOING FEEERAL FOR THEIR LOVED ONE BEING HURT/ IN DANGER/ LOOKING FOR THEM (if I'm feral for this whole trope, I'm feral, for this one in particular) bonus points if glowing eyes, then you got me, entirely.

Being a soft squishy ball full of love but only with them. Fuck everyone else.

The two kinds of looks:

"Oh shit, I'm in love with you" look.

"I love being in love with you" look.

Please do and recommend more of these kinds of shows/films/comics, I will never have enough of them.

Oh, the hopeless romantic in me.

[glytrp]

I love the dabi’s love languages post! Could you make one for Shigaraki too? (NSFW welcome 👀)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

totally! hope you like it <3

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Shigaraki’s Love Languages

headcanons (18+)

❥ gift giving: likes useful gifts, but the sentimental ones are definitely a guilty pleasure of his. first/limited edition anything of his favorite movies, books, games, comics, and he’ll eat you out for a week. and he won’t tell you why he’s suddenly so sexually giving, but you probably put two and two together and stop asking about it. he’s a collector so get him collector items. easy, but fucking expensive.

❥ words of affirmation: shigaraki is super quiet and like literally never speaks unless he has to. he gets irritated easily because he has sensory issues with noise and probably touch, doesn’t like to feel crowded in terms of sound. plus he probably wouldn’t accept much compliments or praise unless it’s coming from you, and in that case, he won’t respond but he’ll silently internalize it. for example, if you make some passing comment about how sexy he looks in a pair of sweats, he won’t stop thinking about it. doesn’t care much for praise in the bedroom but compliments about his looks are an easy way to get some brownie points.

❥ physical contact: shigaraki is shy about initiating contact but if he’s feeling really needy, he’ll pull you into his lap and tucks his head in your neck so you can scratch up and down his back or play with his hair. he adores when brush his hair because it’s kind of a stress reliever for him. don’t expect hugs from him, but if you pull him in for one, he won’t push you away. also, he really likes it when you bite and leave marks on him. turn his neck purple and he’ll pretend to complain but he’s sooo into that shit. I can’t imagine him being the most skilled kisser, unfortunately. however, he’s good at fucking. so he likes a submissive partner, specifically a power bottom that can provoke him. he’s got a lot of pent up energy so some rough sex is always a good option for him.

❥ quality time: two words - attachment issues. even if you aren’t doing anything productive, he likes having you around all the time. but he does have a preference for late night drives with you, road head obviously, going to cafes so you can do work together in the nice ambience, and also bookstores. he likes reading with you. and music stores! I think shigaraki would be into so much music, so take him to get some vinyls and he’s all over you. we can’t forget about his gaming addiction either. but he’s a competitive little shit, so if you want to 1v1 him, expect some high end competition. and then expect him to convince you into sex afterward for his reward.

❥ acts of service: he just likes a girlfriend that can match him. he’s not particularly messy but he has a lazy side to him and a lack of hygiene at times, so if you help him out around his place, offer to shower with him as a method of getting him off his computer, he’ll be a happy camper. plus, shower sex with shigaraki is really fucking nasty so it’s pretty easy to offer that option to him. he despises most chores, so you usually end up doing them but he’s actually a sweetheart about it and has his own ways of returning the favor, so it’s a fair trade off.

[arc-misadventures]

MFK with Jaune: Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, and Selina Kyle

Jaune: MFK XII

Nora: Oh Jaune-Jaune~?

Jaune: No, you can’t have your grenades back.

Nora: But, that’s not…?!

Jaune: You aren’t allowed to test peoples bone density with your war hammer.

Nora: But, it’s only, Cardin… Wait! No, that’s not what I want…??

Jaune: You can’t have another, McSchneer Lumberjack Burger. They banned you after you demanded more maple syrup bacon strips, and subsequently destroyed the counter when they said no.

Nora: That’s not what I wanted to ask!

Jaune: It’s not; Then what is it?

Nora: MFK~!

Jaune: Naww fuck…

Nora: Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, or Selina Kyle~?

Jaune: The ladies of, Batman’s Rouge Gallery? Why them?

Nora: Why not them?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Fair enough… Okay… I would kill, Poison Ivy.

Nora: Aww… but, I thought you liked us red heads~?

Jaune: I do, but it’s more of personality/mind set kind of thing. I understand why she wants to save the environment, and all that. But, considering her powers she could make plants that absorb the pollution, and cleanse the environment like nature currently does. I mean, we’ve got algae springing up the can digest plastics, and there are mushrooms capable of absorbing nuclear radiation. I mean come on! Poison Ivy could easily do that, and make something ten times better at doing that! But, no let’s kill all the corrupt businessmen, politicians, and everyone on the whole god damn planet to save the environment! That’s sounds lovely~!

Nora: Okay… that sounded personal…

Jaune: Sorry, but environmentalists annoy the hell out of me! I mean come on! Let’s stop using all fossil fuels, and natural gas to prevent the world from ending in the next five years, a notion that they have said a dozen times in the last three decades! Not to mention that idea would kill millions in a matter of weeks if implemented?!

Nora: …?!

Nora: So…

Nora: Who ya gonna fuck…?

Jaune: Harely Quinn.

Nora: Oh really, you got a thing for clowns~?

Jaune: No. I have to pick, and of the two I would like to sleep with, Harely Quinn. I’m curious about how flexible she would be, among other things…

Nora: Nice~!

Jaune: And, lastly I would marry, Selina Kyle.

Nora: Why her?

Jaune: Admittedly I like, Catwoman the most out of the trio. I like her mature elegance, that femme fatale, and saucy air about her. Plus, I read the comics, she a romantic at heart with, Bruce Wayne. Granted unless written as so, Selina never overcomes, Bruce’s obsession with being, Batman. But, in the stories they do get together, they form a strong lasting pair who grow up to have a loving family together with.

Jaune: I want that too…

Jaune: You happy, Nora, have you got your answer.

Nora: I’m ecstatic, Fearless Leader~! I’ll see you later~!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Somethings off with that smile of hers… I don’t like it…

~~~

Nora: Alright ladies, have you made your decision?

Cinder: Perfectly! I will be going as, Catwoman. I already have a catsuit that I know, Jaune will absolutely drool all over~!

Nora: Oh, nice! It really shows of your phat ass! He better give that a nice hard slap when he sees it!

Cinder: I’ll give him plenty of reasons to do just that~! Now, Neo will be using her semblance to dress as, Harley Quinn. She is also flexible enough to play the part~!

Nora: I’m sure, Jaune will love that~! Don’t pull a muscle out there , Neo!

Neo: 😁

Nora: No, I’m being serious, he will pull some muscles when he’s done with you!

Neo: 🤕🥴

Nora: Oh~? Kinky, I like it~!

Cinder: And, lastly, Emerald will be using her semblance to appear as, Poison Ivy!

Emerald: Are you sure this will work? He hates, Poison Ivy.

Nora: That means he’ll hate fuck you to get rid of that pent up rage~!

Emerald: Oh…? Oh~? Oh that sounds like fun~!

Cinder: Alright girl, let’s head out! Let’s show, Jaune what’s it’s like to be embrace by a trio of femme fetale’s~!

Emerald: Thanks, Nora, we really appreciate your help!

Nora: No problem ladies! And, good luck!

Nora: Cause… you’ll need it… oh boy you’ll need it…

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

"Miguel isn't Spider-Man"

[A short essay where I explain why I think this theory doesn't make sense - and why believing it CONTRADICTS ourselves]

The idea that Miguel isn't Spider-man is erroreous in my eyes for one reason: it's hypocritical.

Miguel's biggest error and problem is that he doubts Miles is Spider-Man.

Miguel puts strict limitations on what Spider-Man is and isn't, and because Miles falls out of the definition, he treats him differently. That's a problem.

By questioning if Miguel is Spider-Man, you're doing the exact same thing.

By saying 'Miguel isn't Spider-Man because x,y,z' (he wasn't bitten, he has different powers, he needs shots, etc, etc) YOU are putting strict limitations on what Spider-Man is - and treating him differently for it.

That's why Miguel was chosen as the Society Leader.

In SM2099 Miguel is a geneticist - there's really nothing in his comic books that suggest he could time travel of all things.

The writers chose Miguel as the leader because fundamentally, his story makes him different from all other Spider-people.

That difference invites you to question Miguel's authenticity, effectively tricking you into making the exact same mistake he is.

Miguel is an outsider looking into Miles story, questioning his legitimacy, and trying to determine his personality and destiny based on that.

By questioning Miguel, you BECOME Miguel. You become the outsider looking into Miguel's story, questioning his legitimacy, trying to determine his personality and destiny based on your limited idea of what a Spider-Man is.

The entire point is : ANYONE can be Spider-Man regardless of their story, the way it came about, or the powers they have.

Many people question that if Miguel wasn't bitten never consider the question:

Was MARGO bitten?

Margo, like Miguel, uses technology to acquire most of her powers. Her powers are fundamentally different than most Spider-people. She can teleport and directly interact with technology in a way others can't. We have no idea whether she was bitten or not, but from the looks of it, the answer might be 'no'.

But no one ever questions her legitimacy. Only Miguel's.

Because questioning Miguel confirms their bias against him.

The same way Miguel questioning Miles confirms his bias against him.

Miguel thinks Miles is the universal anamoly, so he begins to pick apart why he's not really Spider-Man. When you theorize that MIGUEL is in fact the anamoly, you begin to pick apart why he's not really Spider-Man - effectively putting you in Miguel's position, turning you into the same thing you were judging him for to begin with.

The whole point of ATSV is that anyone can put on the mask.

PLUS with the inclusion of the trans!Gwen hints throughout the movies - questioning Miguel because he takes shots in order to confirm his identity as Spider-Man becomes even more questionable.

Just because he needs an outside force like shots to confirm his identity, doesn't make him any less of that identity. People who are 'biologically/naturally' Spider-people aren't 'more' of a Spider-person than Miguel. The same way cis guys aren't more 'manly' than trans men who take shots.

But Miguel's story being an allegory for transness is another conversation for another day.

The point of the movies isn't 'Miles is Spider-Man'. The point is 'Anyone can be Spider-Man. No one can decide your story or identity for you.'

By questioning Miguel's identity as Spider-Man you're ignoring the message Miles keeps trying to hammer home.

When you question Miguel, you become Miguel.

In short: Miguel is Spider-Man, Miles is Spider-Man. They're all Spider-Man. There is no one definition of Spider-Man.

MIGUEL IS SPIDER-MAN AHHHHH

I rest my case.

(actual photo of me defending Miguel in court. I am his lawyer.)

This isn't me trying to shit on people who believe this theory, but it's just my personal two cents of why I think it doesn't add up in the general scheme and message of the movies. 💖

ANYWAY here's Miguel

BYE.

[thewertsearch]

TA: terezi? GC: F1N4LLY!!! GC: 1 W4S ST4RT1NG TO TH1NK 1 W4S TH3 L4ST ON3 OF US 4L1V3 GC: H4V3 YOU S33N K4RK4T? TA: n0.

Here's Sollux, back in the land of the living - but he's switched to Aradia's quirk, which I thought was symbolic of the 'emptiness' she felt as a ghost.

Maybe he's using it because his psychic energy has been 'emptied out' of his body?

...nah, that's a bit of a stretch. I don't have a clue what's going on with him. Is he being possessed by Aradia?

TA: but i've sure as hell heard him. GC: WH4T DO3S TH4T M34N?? GC: 4ND WHY 4R3 YOU TYP1NG L1K3 TH1S, 1TS V3RY ODD >:? TA: it means that i'm blind n0w.

It has come to pass.

Sollux's psionics do seem to be focused through his eyes. Shorting them out must also have shorted out his... vision....

Hang on. Did Sollux predict he was doing to die after going blind? As in, he still has to die a second time?

But thought he already did die twice! First, his realself died to the Glub, causing him to inhabit his Derse body permanently - and then, his Prospit body was presumably killed during Jack's rampage.

Is Prospit Sollux actually still alive, then? The guy is powerful, but I don't see how he could have survived against Jack - plus, if Sollux was sneaking around outside the Veil, I think we'd know about it.

I guess Dream Selves don't count as 'real' deaths for the purposes of his prophecy, and it has to be his current 'main' body that dies. That really sucks, because I think it seals his fate.

I thought Sollux had a free pass to the end of the comic, but he's actually on his last life, with another death on the way. This shit is anti-Gemini propaganda!

TA: kk kn0cked 0ut all my teeth like s0me kind of grubfisted d0uche. [...] TA: seems like he wants t0 talk t0 y0u. TA: but i was h0ping t0 talk with y0u a bit first, h0pe y0u d0n't mind. TA: i mean, i kn0w he minds, but he can sm00ch my bl00dy, gummy m0uth right 0n the lisp f0r all i care. TA: i mean lips! that's what i mean t0 say, n0w that i can. TA: lips, lips, lipsssss. w0w, it feels s0 great t0 say that w0rd!

So, wait. Sollux is using voice-to-text right now, and his speech recognition program is detecting the lack of a lisp. Makes sense, I guess - but what about the zeroes? Where are they coming from?

Has something changed about his tone of voice that's making him sound like Aradia? It's not like Sollux manually changed his VTT macros immediately after waking up oh my god what am i saying. of course he did. of COURSE he did. disregard this entire paragraph.