#gettin me some

[b4kuch1n]

podcast people in my phone

[xxplastic-cubexx]

if i said i picked up this issue for anything but drunk erik i fear i'd be lying

(Wolverine (2020) #3)

[ljsarts]

"If I was so dead, where was my funeral?! Where’s my headstone?"

I'm haunted by both these quotes and the idea of what would have happened had Timothy Goose found Ylfa after she'd well ...

Quote is by Kristin Chang

now available as a print

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[salem-sapiens]

"Like fire, Hellfire

This fire in my skin".

Close ups under the cut

Really like the eyes on this one :>

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 215

0h hi!

[corntort]

baby's first bloodlust <3 !

[velvetwyrme]

🗞️💥💥!!!

A little comic based on my initial response to @wave-nine's post ;3c

[raineandsky]

#102

tw: abuse, threats, knives

The superhero barely sleeps anymore, but he can’t afford to. His mind is always haunted by one question: where has the hero gone?

His assistant lingers on the threshold to his office while he stares blankly at the table. She clears her throat when he shows no sign of acknowledging her. She holds a little envelope out to him when he glances up, his name written on the front in glittering cursive.

He reads the contents. Rereads. Looks to his assistant for answers. Receives none. Stares back down at the words on the little note in front of him.

“Well,” he says flatly, “I suppose I best go if we want the city to stay intact.”

-

The supervillain answers the door with a winning smile and a shocking amount of hospitality. 

“I’m so glad you made it,” he says brightly. He ushers the superhero into what can only be described as a mansion. Crime clearly pays well—or he likes to pretend it does. Who knows how he came into a house like this.

The supervillain sets the superhero down in an extravagant dining hall. Servants line the room, practically invisible in the shadows, almost as much of the furniture as the table and chairs in the middle of the room. Most of them have their eyes pointed to the floor.

The supervillain settles in the chair opposite and motions for one of the servants to step forward with a wine decanter. They pour it out agonisingly slowly, their focus honed in on the glass, before skirting around the table to do the same for the superhero.

The superhero startles. “Oh, there’s no need—”

“Nonsense!” the supervillain gestures for the servant to continue. “You’re my guest. Have a drink, please.”

The wine is poured. The servant steps back, their gaze flitting to the supervillain, and with the slightest nod of his head they retreat back into the shadows.

The superhero watches them go, catching the eye of one of the other servants standing on the outskirts of the room. It catches him off guard slightly—he could’ve sworn they were all staring at the floor—but after a moment to study their face he has to hold down a choked gasp.

That’s the hero. The hero he’s spent endless days searching for. The hero that disappeared off the face of the earth, who seemed to just cease to exist. The hero’s staring back at him like they’re equally stunned to see him here, their eyes wide and their jaw slack.

The quiet goes on too long. The supervillain twists in his chair to glance at whatever’s caught the superhero’s interest.

“Ah,” he says shortly. The single word seems to snap the hero out of it, their gaze immediately snapping back down to the ground. “Is my servant here bothering you?”

“You—” You invited me here on purpose. The superhero can’t think of words outraged enough. They’ve been here the whole time. “How dare you—”

“[Hero],” the supervillain says lightly. “Come here.”

The hero shares a worried glance with the servants next to them before slowly stepping towards him. They pause just behind his chair, their head bowed—out of fear or respect, it’s not obvious. “Sir?”

The villain holds his hand up to them expectantly. “Give me your hand.”

The hero spares a glance at the superhero. “B-But sir, our guest—”

“Your hand, [Hero].”

They hesitate, their breath uneven. Then they slowly, slowly put their hand in the supervillain’s.

The supervillain moves faster than the superhero can react. He slams their palm down against the table, his grip deathly tight on their wrist. A steak knife sits in his other hand, the tip poised over the back of the hero’s hand.

The superhero’s on his feet in an instant. The hero desperately tries to pull away, but the supervillain’s grip on them is vice-like.

“Now,” he says smoothly, “what have I said about manners?”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero tries.

“Haven’t I taught you anything?”

“I– I’m sorry.” It comes out of the hero’s mouth like a knee-jerk reaction, like it’s been said a million times before. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again—”

The supervillain twists the knife testily against their skin. Something of a strangled sob tears from the hero’s throat. “Staring is rude, [Hero].”

“I– I know, I’m so sorry—”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero snaps with all the authority he can muster. “Stop.”

“I deal with my servants how I please, [Superhero].” The supervillain’s gaze pulls up to him lazily.  “This is my domain, not yours.”

But he thankfully lets go of the hero. They pull back nervously fast, their hands cupped over each other protectively. The supervillain glances back at them as they attempt to meld back into the shadows. “Go downstairs, [Hero],” he says flatly. “We will discuss this incident later.”

The hero’s gaze snaps back to him like he just asked them to walk into hell itself. “Down– Downstairs?”

“Don’t make me repeat my instructions twice, [Hero]. You know this.”

Their eyes flit between the supervillain and the superhero for a moment. Then they dip into a short bow, and with a slightly choked “sir,” they practically bolt from the room.

A couple of the servants behind the supervillain exchange whispers and sorrowful glances.

“I must apologise,” the supervillain says with an innocent sigh. “I thought I’d trained my servants better than that. I assure you such behaviour will be dealt with.”

The superhero’s still on his feet. “Release them immediately.”

The supervillain idly swills the wine for a second. “Or what?”

“The agency will not stand for this.” The superhero clenches his fists at his sides. “I will not stand for this.”

“Well,” the supervillain drawls, “you can have them back when I’m dead.” The supervillain sets his glass on the table a little too hard. “This has been a wonderful evening, [Superhero]. Now get out.”

-

It takes 20 minutes to get back to the agency, and by then the superhero has a half-formed plan in his head and a burning cry for vengeance.

When he’s dead. So be it.

[lem0nademouth]

the number of would-be converts who have said shit like “i thought judaism was the progressive religion but i guess not” or “after learning about gaza i just don’t think i can convert anymore” is making me think we need to evaluate the vetting process for conversion canidates

[teatitty]

This is the funniest fucking transformers video I've ever seen I'm crying irl over this hoo you ever laugh so hard there's just no noise comin outta you

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Alright, lemme correct myself. I believe that Stewart and McAvoy's Charles Xavier is a top.

real ☝️!!!

[sadkois]

10 mins later after majima convinced nishiki to go out on a guys night :)

10 YEARS IN THE JOINT

KIRYU WITH NISH EXPRESSION JUMPSCARE

[victimized-martyr]

the trilogy

[scummy-writes]

If I have you blocked, please do not message me on other accounts. If you know I have you blocked on one place, please do not try to reach out to me if you find out i didn't block you on another place.

It is very frustrating knowing that some people, not everyone, will see that I have them blocked and will go through different accounts to send me anons or dms. I know that when it gets to that point, it is a bit pointless to try and publicly ask someone like that to just leave me alone, but you know! I still wanna like. Ask you. To leave me alone if I have made it clear multiple times that I don't want to interact with you. I don't really care if you believe its unfair that I have you blocked. Unfortunately, in the world of online spaces, if I decide that I don't want to talk to you because i felt so uncomfortable that I decided to block you, thats me expressing a boundry. That's me saying 'please leave me alone'.

I'm some weirdo online who writes mid smut of traumatized guys. I should not be so important to you that you want to try and contact me through alt accounts or get upset when I continue to block you. I am uncomfortable. You reaching out knowing this, does not make that uncomfortable go away. It makes me more defensive, less willing to talk, and more prone to snapping and popping off if it does happen. I know it hurts when someone blocks you, but you need to understand that pushing for yourself to be unblocked through friends or anons, only makes the situation worse. There are so many other people to befriend who are so much nicer than I'll ever be, please leave me alone.

[noctlas332]

day two the lengthening is an act of love