#you know. normal

[crimson-rots]

saddest thing that can happen to 2 guys with freak shit going on is people calling them boyfriends. yes i know theyve got something homosexual going on but brother it is NOT that

[kensatou]

assigned omega by auntie yi yi…….

[eosofspades]

i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues

[orions-aether]

eastern european haunted emily axford pc, transfem daughter of libertarians ally beardsley pc, spot on pub representation grizzled old british lady siobhan thompson pc, nasty old gun guy zac oyama pc, posh boy brian murphy pc, famous explorer with a book series that really falls off lou wilson pc we're fucking eating this season my god

[remcadll]

Dick is never going to get to have a midlife crisis because Bruce is going through his for him. also because he will not be making it to 40.

[niinnyu]

The 4th wall is made of clear glass for her.

[stil-lindigo]

the vulture.

a comic about cycles.

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

being a student during peak pandemic was so fucking surreal like. "it's not an excuse to fall behind" I cannot stress enough to you how much A Worldwide Plague Upending Life As We Know It is literally one of The Top Three Reasons to fall behind

[elucubrare]

there's this horrible school of attempted literary criticism on here that holds that 1. everything in any given author's work is autobiographical, especially if it seems "real" and 2. those themes seeped into the work subconsciously, revealing something about the author that they're either trying to hide or unaware of themself. it drives me up a wall, since it seems to deny the fundamental skills that make people good writers: the empathy to imagine and portray experiences that one hasn't had oneself and the ability to take one's personal emotional experiences or worldview and fold them, consciously, into the unworked clay of a narrative.

[kiras-law]

light "if someone tries to read my diary i will set my drawer on fire" yagami

[thisdudedoesntexist]

I had a fic idea but don't know where to go with it, so if you want to expand on anything feel free.

So, Danny's finally an adult who's off to college at Gotham (the STEM there is crazy for how many supervillains have doctorates). Since Vlad actually took the time to heal and grow past his issues and turned into the crazy Bi uncle he was supposed to be, Danny's got his college paid for.

In the form of $50,000 and an kinda ok motel near the upper west side.

He tried asking his former nemesis why he's done this but Vlad just told him it's so he has some "pocket change and experience".

Danny's been spending the past few weeks aceing his his STEM middling at literature and upgrading the motel into something actually decent.

His business seem to be attracting the strangest living too. That's saying something since he's got ghostly and living guests. Danny knew this place was cursed but still feels surprised every time they show up.

1st: A nice lesbian couple came on the first night cause one with green-ish skin named Pam according to the pale lady named Harley felt the vegetation get really excited when he came. He had about an hour of questioning on Ectology and who Undergrowth was.

2nd: A 10ft tall crocodile man named Waylon came in cause of Harley's recommendation, he looked like he'd run any moment. That night he made sure his staff wouldn't mistreat people like him and by the time croc left there was a glowing sign by the door about how different guests are to be treated with respect no matter how they look.

3rd: THE Red hood showed up asking about a kid who worked there. Her name's Zoe and when her parents reaction to their kid being trans was to kick her out of the house at 17. She biked to the motel to get some rest before catching the bus out of Gotham, got a job checking people in instead and has since found an actual family with the help of Amorpho a social worker Danny met a few years ago.

4th: the most recent event was when Gotham's play boy prince and his cousin Kate Kane stumbled in during his shift at the front desk. Mr. Wayne was pretending extremely well to be drunk while his cousin was wrangling him awkwardly. If Danny didn't have super senses he wouldn't have noticed he was acting, or the tracker added to his cuff when he was semi-forced to shake "Bruce, just Bruce. Everyone's always so stiff." Hand. The tracker had little legs and crawled under his shirt, creepy and fascinating.

[sinkfood]

did you know there aren't any god-like powers of indigestion

[hansoeii]

crowley

[yeyinde]

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)

[autumndragon]

i love the idea that viggo's issue is that he's always overestimating the dragon riders and that's why he loses. other antagonists always underestimate them, they don't put in all the necessary precautions, which allows the riders to slip through, always throwing parties and gloating before the dragon is in the cage. but viggo?

my man takes so many precautions, his entire island is a war base, and yet, and YET the dragon riders got in by dyeing snotlout's hair blonde, giving him gucci boots and naming him sir ulgertorpe, SIR ULGERTORPE. viggo got catfished by snotlout with blonde hair. he's overestimating them so bad that the IDEA of them "just walking in" doesn't even come to mind. he's ready for fire and death to fall from the sky but a one-legged boy pulling a fast one on him breaks his fancy little english brain.

[vervielle]

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☆

sobs