#only the supersons version

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Which Toxic Yaoi is the best

Sequel to the toxic yuri poll. I deeply apologise if some of these are not toxic, i went off of the propaganda

Propaganda under the cut!

BbKaz (Big Boss/Kazuhira Miller)

they have multitudes.. you can ship it as something goofy and fluffy or as the most toxic yaoi of all time and theyre both pretty reasonable interpretations. they go on a date together and have sex in a cardboard box on a beach in canon and a bunch of other crazy shit. their relationship spans 20 years so they span from honeymooning to divorced to one trying to kill the other etc. "love loses" the ship they make me insane

Flash/Reverse Flash

"It was ME Barry, I jerked you off at supersonic speeds so it would seem like you nutted at just a woman's touch!"

Possibly the most toxic yaoi of all time

SuzaLuLu (Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperougue)

TOXIC YAOI TOXIC YAOI

SaruMi (Saruhiko Fushimi/Misaki Yata)

Toxic yaoi, obsessive boy joins a gang with his best friend but then his best friend makes other friends in the gang so he joins up with an enemy gang instead. Normal behavior.

Valvert (Jean Valjean/Javert)

They’re so obsessed with each other (especially javert to valjean) it’s like half of the plot. Pinnacle of toxic old man yaoi. Produces the funniest plot point in the show: Valjean (escaped convict in disguise as a mayor and businessman) saves someone by lifting a cart he was trapped under and Javert (cop trying to catch Valjean) goes “Damn girl… you remind me of this guy…. He’s the only guy I���ve ever seen who’s as swole and jacked as you”

Lawlight (Light/L)

"L and Light are the founding fathers of toxic yaoi" is what people WANT you to believe but these poor men are being slandered... You see it's ackshually totally heterosexual to give your bestie (who's also your mortal enemy) a foot massage while he he makes soft little grunting noises and wipes the water droplets from your rain-soaked hair all while a soft melancholic piano track is accompanying this surprisingly tender moment between the two of you- IF it's a religious callback to Jesus and Judas. It's just a Bible reference bro. No homo. 🤓☝

Anyhow don't google the Japanese version of "Playing his Game" (which is called "Inside of him" in Japanese) from the Death Note Musical. I assure you there is absolutely nothing gay about those lyrics.

Wdym people love shipping two mortal enemies with an unhealthy obsessive murderous rivaly??? What is the world coming to... Besides Light is clearly heterosexual. His lack of interest in women is because he's a based sigma male obviously...

and additional reason here but this one is a spoiler

Foot washing scene. The musical. God, they're so obsessed with each other. When L dies Light loses his main drive, his passion- being Kira isn't fun anymore without L, he isn't having a good time even though he won their battle of wits. Light being L's first friend. L being... really, the first person to understand Light. Theyre insane I love them

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

based loosely around this song from måneskin - enjoy lovies!

-

“AND THE WINNER IS… CORRODED COFFIN!”

Steve Harrington can’t help but holler as the band is announced, his hand being squeezed tightly by Robin Buckley- who lets out her own squeal that could pierce a person’s ears. The two roommates clink their champagne glasses together, hearing their cellphones buzz from wherever they had set them for the moment.

“Fuck, just- shit I’m not supposed to curse up here, huh?” Eddie’s voice is low as he stood on the stage, surrounded by the entire band. The expletives are mainly blipped out for the television version; but Steve couldn’t help but laugh as the audience laughed in real time.

“He’s such a doofus,” Robin fondly teased, eyes bright as she crowded Steve closer. Steve let his eyes dart down to watch Robin curl her legs up under herself, as she dips herself to rest against Steve’s side.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all look fondly towards Eddie— all with different varying stages of just pure exasperation written across their faces.

“Anyway-” Eddie drags the word out, holding up his spare hand as the other cradles the award to his hip. The crowd simmers and Eddie shook his head for a second, before dropping his hand to curl back around the microphone. “We thank everyone for this, this’ll be our fourth year in the making of winning this thing, and that’s not a thing we take for granted.”

Gareth stepped up next, and Eddie stepped away with a fond smile on his face. Steve couldn’t help but furrow his brow as both he and Robin leaned forward. That hadn’t been the start of the speech that Eddie had read him just a few days prior over FaceTime.

“Dingus? What’s going on?” Robin asked softly, her nails digging tiny half moons into the palm of Steve’s hand.

“I have no fucking idea, Robs-”

“We have so many people to thank, but we want to focus specifically on the people who helped make this happen.” Gareth’s voice is soft, and Steve knows in the back of his mind that this clip will inevitably make it onto one of the TikToks that Robin insisted (forced) he watch.

“We, however, want to really extend a thank you to our record label.” Jeff spoke up next, his eyes almost glinting as he took his space in front of the microphone.

“Supersonic Records has been a ride to work with and we’re thankful for the opportunity.” Grant droned, voice monotone as he bent his head to speak into the microphone.

He then stepped back, and Eddie was back in the place at the microphone. The rest of the band flanked him, with Grant easily pulling the award out of his hands.

“Which… is why we fucking quit.” Eddie has the microphone in his hands, and Steve let out a small punched out noise at the firmness that is bleeding heavy over Eddie’s words. “Fuck our contract, fuck you Supersonic Records.”

“If I can’t be with my boyfriend in front of this fucking world, there isn’t a point anymore.” Their isn’t time to bleep out Eddie’s curse word, and Eddie bares his teeth as he holds the microphone close to his lips. “Yeah, that’s right folks- not only do I have a boyfriend, Supersonic wanted to hide it from all of you.”

“And we’re done being their pawns,” Gareth is grinning as he leaned into Eddie’s space, and both Jeff and Grant let out loud whoops as the audience cheers loudly along.

Eddie leers then, all teeth and gums as he stared straight into the camera. Steve felt something sink and burn low in his gut, even as Robin let out a squeal from right next to him.

Eddie has the microphone pressed against his lips, and Steve swore if he was any closer- static would be the only thing that came over the amplifiers. His brown doe-eyes are rimmed in a careful swipe of black liner, and he drops his left lid into a quick wink.

The camera zoomed in, just as Eddie made sure to point right toward it.

“Steve Harrington, I bought a plane ticket… and I am coming home to fuck the shit out of you.”

The show manages to bleep the swear in time.

Somewhere deeper in the apartment Steve and Robin are in, he can hear their phones go crazier.

Steve can’t find it in himself to be annoyed either.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @sofasurf

From @sofasurf to @ozzmatr0n

Your prompts are as follows:

1. The “ever so fashionable” Lady Penelope (1960s Lady Penelope).

 2. Daily morning routine on Thunderbird 5.

3. The Tracy brothers favourite gifts under the tree

Interview

“Welcome back! If you're just joining us we are on the sofa with the elusive Tracy brothers!”

Scott smiled his trademark smile, dimples winking at the camera that loved him. No one looking at him would know that at that moment he was considering all the ways he could kill Penny and the TI PR team.

“But it's for the children,” Penny had pleaded, eyes sincere and, were those unshed tears? A master at work and, he thought darkly, he'd fallen for it.

Perhaps he wouldn't have had to if the others hadn't also fallen prey to the dirty tactics employed. Even John had lacked immunity from those deadly baby blues.

And so, here they were on the famous red sofa, the hair and makeup team having spent a long time on the completely casual look.  They all wore pastel shades the colour of their uniform baldrics, only Alan not in red, but matching his oldest brother a soft silver grey hoodie to his brother’s stronger blue grey shirt.

Scott sat closest to the Interviewer, even in this  protecting his brothers from the ‘danger’ of the gossip hungry fans.  Of which, unfortunately, the two woman conducting the interview seemed to be the biggest.  There was much faux hair tossing and giggling at him during rehearsal; at all of them even Alan had had a gentle version of the treatment much to his wide eyed fascination. Both women, Donna Flannigan and Carol Song, seasoned hosts seemed to have forgotten their professionalism when faced with International Rescue in the flesh.

And rules of personal space, Scott thought grimly. Death to Lady Creighton- Ward.

Gordon had nearly passed out laughing when Carol’s hand had landed dangerously high up his eldest brother’s thigh earning him a surreptitious slap around the back of the head from John while Virgil, after a quick double take, had deftly shifted the focus to himself as he spoke sincerely about the children's charity they were promoting, allowing Scott to gently extricate himself just off camera. What the live studio audience made of it was anyone's guess.

Yep, Penny was dead. 

He'd managed not to yelp out loud at the uninvited physical contact.  He was however grateful he’d manoeuvred himself between the woman and John, who Donna also seemed to be very keen on getting close to.

“Before the break we were discussing the incredible work that Beginning Together does around the world and your family’s personal passion for the project. Again if you're just joining us, the details to donate to this outstanding charity are on the screen with further links on our website.”

“Indeed, Carol,” Donna took over with a seamless change to look at the different camera signalled by the harried looking floor manager. “And you had referenced your desire to help other children experience the kind of normal childhood that you had growing up in Kansas.  However, normal doesn't feel very like the word to describe your current lives. Let's talk for example about your “normal” day to day life?” The air quotes on the word ‘normal’ drew a titter from the audience.

Scott leant forward slightly smiling. “Now, Donna, our lives for the most part follow pretty normal routines.”

“When you're not saving the world in your supersonic rocket ship!”

“When were not doing that,” warm laugh, dimple, dimple, smile, smoulder.  Scott, despite all his protestations was a natural, all boyish charm and disarming candour. Alan looked on in awe from his place wedged between Gordon and Virgil.  “Mum’s warmth; Dad’s razzle dazzle. Just you watch,” John had whispered to him as their eldest brother had worked the studio like a shareholders meeting when they arrived, remembering names and faces that  had all blurred into one almost instantly for Alan in the overwhelming strangeness of the studio.  

Now Scott answered the questions about his morning routine, Gordon adding little details that made everyone laugh, Yes really, yes running and swimming, yes at dawn.

“So you are the morning people of the family then?” Donna gestured between Scott and Gordon who like Scott took this in his stride. Olympic press training added to the Tracy charm had set him up early to handle himself well under press scrutiny.

“Yes, indeedy. I like to be around in case the old man sprains something on his run!”

The hosts and audience roared in delighted laughter as Scott rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“It's also part of my role as health and safety monitor to have coffee ready for the family bear when it awakens.”

“The family bear?”

More laughter as four fingers pointed at Virgil where he sat preached on the end of the sofa- he and Scott bookends to the row of brothers.

“Hey!”

“It’s true. Virgil should not be approached until he's had at least one coffee,” Alan final felt brave enough to chime in earning indulgent smiles from his brothers despite Virgil's mock outrage.

“There's a reason he's known as the family bear!” John saved Alan from further scrutiny.  John didn't enjoy the spotlight but he was a Tracy and could be charming when he really wanted to.  He just didn't often really want to. Like Scott, Penny's demise was not far from his thoughts.

“The Bear? Do the rest of you have nicknames?”

“No!”

“Yes!” both responses were simultaneous from various brothers.  The audience laughed.

The terrible two jostled to answer.

“Scooter”

“Spacecase”

“Squid!”

“Sprout! Cos he's so little, Gordon tousled the golden bread beside him ironically now slightly higher than his own.

Annoyed Alan tried to deflect from the sight murmur of “ahh” from the audience, “Gordon still sleeps with plushies”

“Alan sleeps on the floor!”

“Yes, well Scott sleeps na....”

“As you can see,” Scott’s calm voice cut across the two shuting his youngest brother down just in time, “Normal siblings!” his tone was carelessly amused, his dimples dimpling and his laugh enchanting but there was a slight edge that the brothers alone detected, used to hearing it when Scott deliberately kept cool but they were in trouble. Gordon was grinning like a loon, John shook his head in mock despair and Virgil gently bumped against Alan's shoulder as the youngest blushed crimson at his near blunder.

About ignored the renewed looks from Carol at that fresh almost titbit.

“So these two are the early risers. Virgil, you're not a morning person. But John, surely you can't claim that your morning routine is normal! I mean you’re in space!” Donna warmed to her topic her intense grey gaze raking over John in a way Scott was certain it shouldn't on a family show.

“It can be surprisingly mundane I assure you, even in space.  Safety and often sanity depend on routine. Except during an emergency I try to keep to island time like these clowns” a muffled hey from Gordon “so I'm awake even they are. I even sometimes  jog around the gravity ring before breakfast!”

The audience approved. A banner saying “We love you, John!” in orange glitter caught the studio light and John did a slight double take before returning his calm smile to Donna who had moved forward in her seat, unnecessarily, Scott felt

“What do you have for breakfast in space?”

John grinned, “My favourite is a bagel with cream cheese.”

“Cream cheese in space?”

John laughed at that, “Yep!”

“Sometimes we send up pancakes,” Virgil chipped in.

“Oh,” Donna showed her investigative prowess, “who is the chef?”

“Scotty makes incredible pancakes,” Alan loyally contributed.

“Bagels and pancakes does sound very normal. But,” Donna was still gazing at John, “What about things we all just normally do like showering for example. How do you keep clean? I mean do you have water in space? Surely you can't ever take your suit off to shower? You can't be in a shower in space! Can you? What if there was an emergency and you were all soapy?”

There was a slightly stunned silence while everyone consider this question.  John, blush starting to creep to his neck opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again.

“Now Donna! You can't have all our secrets,” Scott dimples once again dimpling as he cut across the awkward silence that threatened. Virgil wondered vaguely if they actually had an on switch and their own generator. Older brother smoothly for the win.

“He does smell a bit when he gets home,” Gordon cheeky chap persona fully engaged helped Scott move things along while pushing his leg a little tighter to John's where they were against each other on the sofa.

“What about Christmas then?” Carol reclaimed control giving her Co-anchor side eye. “Are there any special traditions or routines?”

“It’s usually fairly quiet. Just us and a few close family friends. Scott and I tend to cook the main meal to give our grandmother time off.” Virgil was very diplomatic. “He's all about the ham and makes an incredible glaze.”

The others nodded in agreement and Scott waved off their praise endearingly embarrassed.

“Oh what's your secret?”

“It’s an old family recipe and I think I’d be struck down by a curse if I told.” Dimple. The audience lapping it up.  Mom’s recipe was perfect.

“And what about the rest of you?” Donna once more weighed In.

“They each do a side,” Virgil confirmed. “Some more... experimental than others.”

“Hey, it's not my fault your palettes are not mature enough to appreciate genius.”

“Gordon, Brussel sprouts in lemon jelly was not the idea of a genius,” John once more joined the fray.

“Agree to disagree.”

“Disagree!” all four of his brothers responded as if having rehearsed. It took a few moments for the laughter to die down.

“Are there other traditions you look forward to?”

Alan didn't hesitate, “Tree Day.”

“Tree Day?”

“Tree Day,” Gordon nodded in agreement and the older three looked at them with indulgent affection on their faces.

“Well,” Scott began. “Tree Day is basically exactly how it sounds.  We go get a tree and put it up in the lounge and decorate it. Like so many other families who celibate the season.”

Carol smiled at Alan, “It's clearly a favourite tradition of yours would you like to explain what makes it special?”

Alan glanced at Virgil who gave the teen a little nod of encouragement.

“Well it's some of my earliest memories of us all together.  Even when everyone was all over the place and it was just me at home, everyone came back for Tree Day,” Alan moved forward in his seat, looking so young and with enough boyish joy in his tone that the audience were listening rapt. “Everyone would arrive back or Dad and I would go collect them if they couldn't get flights and then we'd all go and pick the best tree we could find. I remember Dad carrying me on his shoulders if I got too tired, then it being Scott who would do that. And Johnny and Scott always disagree about how to cut it down when we find it until Virgil, the actual engineer will just do it his way while they are bickering. And they still do it even though that's kinda what always happens, every year!  And then we carry it back and secure it, and fly home.  Even when I was little I was allowed to help with all of it. Then we get it into the house and we  all hang the decorations on it. It helped that in the past they’d always brought me presents to go under the tree once it was up.” There was gentle giggles at that. “And even when Scooter,” he seemed to catch himself glancing suddenly at his older brother who smiled a strange little smile at him his eyes unreadable.  Alan seemed to swallow slightly then continued. “I mean, there was a year we couldn't all do it and we did it in August instead when we were all together. Like a bonus Christmas! So... ah, yea. I guess I just like that it's something we have always done together,” he stopped finally looking up again at Scott then stood to smile at Donna who liked a little watery.  Virgil's arm moved from along the back of the sofa to his youngest brothers shoulder and John moved a hand to Scott's knee at the same moment. There was a moment of connection between the brothers that was like a tangible electricity.

“Except the year Virgil wired the lights wrong and blew the generators!” Gordon squeezed Alan's leg as he played up that story to the audience. Ignoring the few hankies being dabbed to eyes in what he could see of the front row of the audience. He soon had them guffawing.

Carol had just started down the path of what exactly was under the tree and the audience were lapping up details of Virgil's traditional knitted gifts when Scott��s wrist began to vibrate violently.

“Sorry,” he looked at his wrist punching a few buttons and frowning.

“The perils of live tv folks!” Carol joked but Scott got to his feet in a moment that would be looped on need feeds and holo screens around the world for days to come.

“I'm sorry Carol, Donna, but we're going to have to cut this short,” gone was the charming farm boy ribbing his siblings good naturedly and there stood the Commander of International Rescue. Cameras were hastily moved to capture the moment as it happened.

“We have a situation. There has been a mud side in Tibet. Thunderbird 5?”

John was already pulling up information, wait,  Donna’s eyes widened at her favourite Tracy, where had he got a data pad from? The others were instantly on their feet.

“I see it. Best location for coordinating search and rescue will be with you momentarily.”

“F.A.B. Thunderbirds 2, 4 and 3 configure pods enroute.  Thunderbird 5 with me.”

A chorus of F.A.B. and they were moving as one.

“I,well....”

“A world exclusive indeed ladies and gentlemen.”

Both hosts paused as the rubbing roar of the green behemoth parked outside the studio caused everything to shake.

“Looks like that's the end of our catch up with the Tracy Family,” she touched her ear piece. “Here’s a quick word from our sponsors!”

In the control room Penny smiled from where she been watching. Contributions to the charity had trebled since the show had started and those shots of Scott being all Commanderesque would be circulated for weeks to come. 

She watched a the production team scrambled to find sobering to fill the remaining 15 minutes of airtime. Kissing Sherbet’s head in delight she bid her farewells – she have Parker swing by the Tracy's favourite take away and had over to Tracy Island to await the return of her ‘normal’ boys.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[ralfmaximus]

Hyperloop One, the futuristic transportation company building tube-encased lines to zip passengers and freight from city to city at airplane-like speeds, is shutting down, according to people familiar with the situation.

Once a high-profile startup, Hyperloop One raised more than $450 million since its founding in 2014, according to PitchBook. It built a small test track near Las Vegas to develop its transportation technology, and for a time took the name Virgin Hyperloop One after Richard Branson’s Virgin invested. Virgin removed its branding after the startup decided last year to focus on cargo rather than people.

Buried halfway through: it's another failed Elon Musk venture.

Not mentioned at all: the only reason Musk proposed Hyperloop was to thwart California's high-speed rail initiative and sell more cars. You see, his alternative technology of shooting supersonic capsules through evacuated vacuum tubes would be so much better than stinky old trains.

The only problem?

None of the technology exists. All the prototypes sucked. Even after ten years and a half billion dollars.

One "prototype" is literally a one-lane concrete tunnel allowing a single Tesla automobile to travel at astonishing speeds up to 107 MPH. Technically you can drive faster than that on most american highways.

Also that's 50-100 MPH slower than the high speed rail California wanted to implement a decade ago.

And now the whole venture is quietly going away.

Unpaywalled version here.

[stareiiez]

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- one.

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

note: first time writing for the COD lovers. tell me how I did :). please be gentle and kind to me omg.

content : dark?? ghost. modern settings. mentions of suicide. obsession. stalking. unhealthy attachments. smut in later chapters. alcohol. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult reader. MDNI. 3.6k words.

Rain streaked down your large window's pane, clear warm waters raced each other down thin plane glass. Each droplet getting bigger than the others that trickled downward the more liquid each harmless little drop of water that was collected further speeding the streaks to drop down onto the sill. If you were delusional you would have compared yourself to the naive raindrops that beaded your window in the dead of night. You, the perfect round thing, sitting in paranoia and harm's way as it escalated its determined way to collect you into its grasp and swallow you whole.

You, losing yourself to the drowning and suffocating heat of entrapment that fear had on your throat, on your mind, on your entire being. You could always blame yourself. You could blame your idiotic choices for provoking this rapid current. You could blame yourself for never calling the police as much as you should. Not taking their advice when they did give it to you when you were swaddled in that horrid-smelling grey blanket one of them would provide for comfort when they would arrive on your property at late hours. Instead, you ignored them, ignored your normal conscious thoughts that warned; and tried to steer you away from this danger that was always lurking in your mind. You welcomed the risk. The pure risk of knowing who dared to turn your once perfect, as perfect it could be for an adult, mental cognitive thinking into pure garbage that was feeding its appetite for more delicious terror.

It's why you ignored the large palm print that didn't get smudged away by those racing water streams you had chosen to watch instead of taking in the details or gawking at how massive and thick all five fingers were spread out on the middle half of the glass. The creases of the print's fingers were perfect, if you even squinted and shoved your face against the glass you could try and see the swirls of fingerprints on each end of the finger markings left behind. A telltale sign that your attacker that plagued your thoughts, and your surroundings had been here. Whether it was during the day or he was just a few minutes ago, you'd never figure it out. You had the balls to not turn and flee this time, this time if he even had the balls to still be lurking in the thunderstorm outside; or in the walls of your own house. You wouldn't run and hide like you did before.

The only thing you however did not ignore? Was the blaring light of your cellphone and the harsh vibrations of it against the smooth palm of your hand? Slight vibrations had your nerves fire off in adrenaline-soaked supersonic booms underneath your skin that had your eyes jump away from the staring contest you were having with the imprinted glass to now move on to your bright phone screen. The contact name glared up at you and without another beat of annoying buzzing. You answered the call as if it was on cue.

"Hello?"

"Hello ?? Earth to __ ." A pair of fingers snapped in front of your face in rapid beats rivaling a hummingbird's rhythm. The sharp snaps were enough to have your pupils focus back in and realign on your friend in front of you. Cheeks flushed in a small wave of rich pinks when you realized you weren't listening in on what plans your friend was trying to make with you for the only night that you were free for, ever since you got done unpacking at your old relative's loft. The quiet sounds of distant music coming from a speaker in your home, the sensation of heat still seeping into the palm of your hand from the mug of tea you were once sipping on. It all brought you back to the very present, the red-haired fire engine female in front of you. Insistent brown eyes glared at your warm face, irritation present on dyed red brows.

Tonight was the one chance you had to have some unwinding to gain some energy to get back to your life of being stuck behind a desk and computer when Monday rolled its ugly head once again. "Sorry. . . um, what time were you saying you wanted to meet up again?" Your lips quirked in a sheepish grin when your friend's lips twitched into an annoyed scowl.

"9. Veronica and I are taking the Jeep and you're driving to meet us at that dive bar, Vaqueros. Then we hit the club down the street after we finish our pre-game." As if someone in your mid-twenties can handle your liquor without consequences anymore. You weren't sixteen and sneaking Fireball and Kahula from your mom's pantry in the dead of night and trying to make fun and new cocktails for yourself and the girls who were sleeping over for the night.

You swallowed your excuses of trying to back out of tonight and stay home with nothing but a tub of ice cream and a 2000s coming-of-age comedy movie. You wouldn't dare to even annoy or inconvenience your best friend, Izzy, out of canceling plans; when you've already pulled the same song and dance of lying about too many things in the past, just to get out of a social event. Your eyes drifted to the clock on the wall behind Izzy, the little and big hands reading 7:30 pm. Way too early to lie about how you have to feed a nonexistent pet you have, or how you have to call your mother and tell her how much you miss her.

Your eyes darted back to her face. A soft exhale left your lips, fine. Fine, it was one night. One night of fun. One night of drinking yourself into a silly tizz and end up with a headache the next morning when you're nursing yourself with black coffee and the hair of the dog shot you'd make; just to make yourself feel at least decent enough to handle the public again." Right, then you better get going, before you dont have a chance to outdress me tonight." You tease with a forced grin.

The irritation present on Izzy's face seemed to melt immediately when you teased her. Delighted that you hadn't fought and screamed your way out of another outing, she was now her normal ball of sunshine and energy. She put the sun to shame sometimes with the amount of positivity and 'good vibes' that leaked out of her pores in waves of vanilla and champagne perfume. If it wasn't her good vibes, her self-medication of weed by day and alcohol in moderation at night was surely her fuel to stay hyped and chatty.

"As if you could beat my fashion sense. You can't even beat your attention span limit, you hardly even listened when I was talking. I don't think you were even conscious when you answered your door for me."

Another flush of quick embarrassment. You'd curse yourself out later when you were changing into your night clothing. It wasn't your fault, you were tired. Sleeping in a brand new place, in a different part of the city and farther away from the Surburan culdasacs you spent the majority of your life in. It was the quiet and actual sounds of birds chirping without being drowned out by the sounds of cars honking and the cries of the neighbor's newborns at eight am. You were surrounded by nothing but lush evergreen and pine trees that practically swallowed the dark mahogany-colored loft house you now lived in. Jet back iron fencing that interwove around each other in details of swirls traced all around the perimeter of the home; till they met in the middle to swoop and create large gates that protected you from the evergrowing dark and shadows of the trees.

It was nature in its purest form, wild and smelly. Untamed with its inhabitants hunting each other for sport between thick trunks and leaping from branch to branch to escape certain death. It was exhausting.

The trees and greenery surrounding your home had welcomed you and Izzy with gentle winds of pine and earth when she had decided it was about time you get ready and 'try to look like you're enjoying yourself' with your outfit. The sun crested the tops of towering tree tops. Oranges and pinks kissed the blue till it was a wash of vibrant purples, it was a beautiful sight. Just another perk to moving out of gated suburbia. How else could you have sunsets like this without them being ruined by city smog and highrise skylines that tried to rival nature's cacophony of watercolor evenings?

"Text me when you get there!" Izzy's voice chirped out of her rolled-down window when she pulled out of your driveway. The black iron gates swung automatically open once they sensed the cherry red Bug heading out of your property. Your hand was raised, waving the trails of dust and fading notes of Gwen Stefani away till the car was swallowed in the shadows of your private forest.

Finally, finally, could you let your face fall from its forced enthusiasm. Smooth facial features now drooped into a grimace when you turned your back and faced your house. A long groan was released from your lungs. Brows pinching. Eyes screwing up as you let out your dread and nerves about going out tonight. "I should have just told her I had gotten the stomach bug." You muttered to yourself, your hands raised to your scalp. Fingers itching at the roots of your hair in irritation before you finally exhaled. Eyes opening once more with a sense of sad acceptance.

You'll just have a few drinks. Hell, just one fruity drink and you'll slip back out the front door before Izzy and Veronica notice you being gone. Besides, when was the last time you had fun? Pure unfiltered fun? You couldn't remember the last time you even laughed so hard you felt your stomach cramp and your gasps turn into snorts from trying to contain yourself. This will be fun, it'll be good for you to socialize and maybe find a little someone to take home if you are really lucky. The last time you got laid was something you dare not even think about, it felt like years yet in reality it was probably close to six months.

With a shake of your head, you made your way back into your new home. Making sure to lock and deadbolt your front door, you turned to the living room/ kitchen. Rich dark greens of carved wood walls and black marbled flooring that melded with flecks of white in every square tile greeted you. The quiet was still chilling to your bones.

The open expansive windows, which were framed with even more luscious green velvet curtains, exposed you to the eyes of more green trees and sharp limbs of evergreens. At night those branches clawed at your bedroom. Sometimes tapping in a strange rhythm from the smallest breeze that begged you to let them in. Let me play with you. Let me in, I swear I'll be nice and good to you. The forest seemed to whisper. If it even was the trees, you wouldn't be surprised if it was just some random hiker coming by to try and ask for a place to stay in the dead of night if they happened to wake you.

A thousand eyes seemed to be watching you, or it felt like it anyway, when you had decided to stop procrastinating and get dressed in the master bedroom of your home. The windows were drawn open, just for the sheer thought that nature didn't mind a little skin and curves. After all, Eve and the Garden of Eden were very intimate all those thousands of years ago when being naked was the new cool. 

You stared at your reflection in the floor-length mirror, judging and scoffing at potential outfit combinations that would fit the dive bar and club scene. Something that still screamed 'sexy' in not over flashy loud look for a backwater bar; but just short and good enough to get the bouncer's approval at the trashiest club you'd be dragged to. Your bed and floor were nearly a mess when you decided to settle on a coppery red outfit. It was a dress that was accentuating the curve of your ass and low on the neckline that hugged your sides and dips with a tasteful flourish. The hem of the dress ended at mid-thigh, the material flowy to let you not walk so straight-legged to risk your dress riding up and flashing a stranger your no-show thong. The color complimented your skin color, a not-too-warm color that seemed casual but the style and length were fun for easy access if you were in a hurry to get fucked in the bathroom at two am. 

The Go-Go boots you decided to pair with the dress only elevated the look, letting your thighs and calves do most of the talking for starving eyes to get a good peek at smooth-shaven skin. Your makeup was tasteful, hints of the same copper red were blended onto your eyes with a neutral lip to keep things easy. You weren't trying to look good with all the work. God bless tutorials and Ulta Beauty.

"Have I told you how happy I am you're here?" Izzy gasped out for the third time that night. Her black lipstick peeled into an expressive smile at you, the glitters on her skin she applied had her eyes sparkling even more under the amber lights of the bartop you and your two friends sat at. The crowd of people in the bar made it hard for you to hear her, but you could practically tell how excited she was for tonight. 

"About just as much as you told her how hot she looks too," Veronica added, wiggling her eyebrows in approval around the dip of Izzy's hunched figure. Her short-cut hair hid the teasing crinkle in her almond-shaped eyes of hers. Veronica, a childhood friend of yours since kindergarten. Only the years of middle school and your moving to a different school cut the friendship short. It was highschool sophomore year and a quick Instagram follow that had you two thick as thieves once more. 

"You both are hot, now let's drink!" You giggled, nudging Izzy's arm with a bashful smile. Her other arm held the second shot of the night all three of you were about to down. The amber liquid smells strong in your nose and on your breath. Whiskey was a sipping drink, but you were here to have fun and regret tomorrow. It was decided in the back of your mind when you meet Izzy and Veronica in the parking lot of the Vaquero's bar. 

Their, Izzy's, eager waving and wolf whistles had changed your mind from bailing on your friends for the night; to genuinely having fun in your young adult life. 

"To being single and getting fucked or fucked up tonight!" Izzy whooped out, her hand raised high in the air with the single shot gripped between clammy fingers. Veronica hissed through her teeth to shush her, but you couldn't help the loud giggle you let bubble up from your throat. 

The eyes on you from grown men and women around you silently judging you were overlooked and cast aside. You didn't give one single fuck, respectfully. Your glass threatened to shatter from impact when you clinked it against hers. The amber whiskey burned so good down your throat when you threw it down with a smile while Izzy whooped out once more after downing her own. She was already leaning over the bartop to wave down the bartender for another drink of choice while you grinned from ear to ear at Veronica. Tonight was your night. 

"To being single and getting fucked or fucked up tonight!"

Those words were the first things the male had heard when he swung open both double revolving doors of the dive bar. The low golden light of the bar somehow illuminates the three women who acted like they were celebrating some kind of sorority or bachelorette occasion. Whatever it was, it made the man snort and roll his dark eyes to himself. Places like these weren't the spot for people who tried to be the life of the party in their old age regularly. It was a place for people like him. People that were either no-lifer alcoholics or scumbags hoped to pick up the residential lot lizards that hung around the entrance of the bar every night at 1:30 am. Just hoping to score easy cash on some drunk bastard down bad for the night.

For Simon, it was different. It was business with pleasure. A convenient mix of both that made him a comfortable little regular for Alejandro and his men. 

The crowd of people moved around him just so he could find his spot towards the back. Safer that way, just how he liked it. Eagle eyes swept over the customers that mingled with each other or sucked down cool liquor like it was ambrosia. Drunkards hung off women like they were leeches. Grubby, sweaty hands picked and pulled at clothing desperately. They whined like kicked puppies if the women they were unabashedly feeling up were rejecting them with a swift smack of their hands. It didn't stop them from trying time and time again. Another loud cheer came from the crowd, somewhere towards the bar. 

Somehow there was enough space between swaying, gyrating bodies to see who was causing so much noise. God was he a thankful man that he just so happened to have his gaze staring where it was. He saw her. Liquid metal that shimmered off smooth skin and sloping shoulders. A walking beauty amongst the gargoyles of humanity. 

Full lips on display that are curved into a radiant smile that has his eyes turning a shade darker, and cock giving one heavy twitch in the confines of his jeans. 

For Simon, the world has stopped. There is no more bar. There is no crowd of people separating you and him. There is only you and him in his mind. Your laughter which was caused by your friends, was only fuel for his stare. Your laugh caused his heart to escalate from its calm beating to a higher tempo. 

He's hot under the collar. You haven't even noticed that someone in the shadows of the bar is staring at you, but he doesn't give a fuck about that. He's staring at you and only you. You and the curves of your thighs and hips that shine under the lights of the bar. You with her sparkling eyes crinkle in amusement at something you're being told. He wants that. He wants to be looked at like that. He wants to know what you find so hilarious that your head is tipped back, exposing your chest and throat to hungry men like him to salivate over. He wonders what your skin would taste like if he sank his teeth into your throat. He wonders if you smell like honey and sin incarnate. 

He'd wonder if you were as soft and supple under his scarred palms that beat the life out of pieces of shit that decided to walk the earth. 

His line of work would be something he'd never bring home if you were there. He'd shed his skin every time once he crossed the threshold, just so he could bury himself into the deepest, warmest parts of your body. If anyone ever touched you before him, he'd break their fucking fingers into bite-sized bits and feed them the gooey mess with a rusty spoon. If you asked he'd kill himself and be reincarnated into somebody worthy of your love if he wasn't fit for it. But that's the thing. He's all you're ever going to need. He's enough and will be enough. You don't know it yet, but you're already his girl. You are so beautifully unaware that it makes his blood sizzle in his eardrums at the rancid thoughts of you and him together. 

His weight shifts to get up off the worn chair he had collapsed into earlier. When he stalls for a brief couple of seconds. Angels sing white noise serendipity when your eyes meet his. What he hopes is his gaze and nothing else that you're focused on so much that it had your own eyes widen a fraction more. He must look like he wants to unhinge his jaws and eat you whole. He likes that. Because he fucking wants to. He's obsessed, and you'll learn that the more time comes between you and him. 

When you blink. He'd be gone, him and his bottomless black holes of eyes that drew you in like a crushing state of gravity.  He slipped out through the bumping crowd, blending through intoxicated hot vapors to the winding staircase off to the side. He's gone, but the sensation of his hungry eyes on you has yet to leave.  

[suzieloveships]

Lucy Quinzel-Isley and Martin Cobblepot-Nygma as BFF because why not

Lucy is more of 🤩🤡🎉🌹 person while Martin is 🤫🔥🎩🌂 person and those two energies fits a little too well

Just a image of 10 years old Lucy showing up at Iceberg Lounge, this prestigious club for shady individuals, hair is pony tails, overalls, mismatched socks probably on roller skates, walking over to the owner of all people and asking "can Martin come out and play?"

They bring the "Wednesday and Pugsley Addams" vibe to the school other students and teacher don't really like,

Martin taught her how to stab people while Lucy is teaching him about all of the different poisonous plants she probably has at home

It doesn't matter he can't talk, she talks for both for them

Lucy learn the sign language for Martin so he wouldn't have to rely on the notebook all the time

He still caries a piece of paper that has "Lucy, no" written on it

Also they probably use sign language to cheat during tests

It is an ongoing debate who is the bad influance, exept Oz and Ed argue it's Martin while Harley and Ivy that it is Lucy

The only time they had a serious fight was when someone called them Menace 1 and Menace 2 and they argue for four hours who is nr 1, basically that onion headline "Best Friends Each Secretly Think Of The Other As Sidekick"

They are a Wario & Waluigi versions of Damian and Jon, probably have some rivarly with them once they get older

Also, stealing from Supersons: Martin: Lucy's mom lets her stay up all night. Oswald: Lucy's mom has two hyena as pets and walks them around town while rolleskating. And her other mom talks to plant. So maybe not the best argument

Martin picked up Ed's habit of asking riddles, Lucy found the way to weaponize that against their teachers

Whenever Lucy asks Martin to help her with something they joke she is "asking mob for a favor" and whenever Martin asks for Lucy's help she must help bc "she own him" (she would do it anyway)

[theoutcastedartist]

Hello! My friends and I discovered your Shadow Light AU tonight and I just have to tell you that we are INSTANTLY obsessed with this! We love it so much!! I personally have been screaming about how tired Sonic looks (my poor boy) and what is the significance of the 17??? 👀👀👀

I don't know if you still plan on returning to this AU, but we'll be very happy if you do! (I saw the asks where you said you'd gotten into LMK which, valid. Me and a few of my friends love LMK too!) Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day!

(Also your art style is absolutely AMAZING. Tails looks absolutely adorable and I love the way you draw Sonic!!)

hello! Sorry it took so long to FINALLY answer this XD

Haven't really checked my inbox in a minute imma be real. But I'm very glad to hear you and your friends have been liking the AU (despite it having been in an indefinite hiatus lmaooo) the AU **MIGHT** be coming back if my current returned interest in sonic stays for long enough. If I do decide to bring it back I'll make a post officially announcing it.

and yeah my AU boom!sonic is a very sleep deprived little guy.

The significance of "17", if I remember correctly (it's been a minute since I've thought of the more intricate details of this AU) for sonic is that he was Dr. Thorndyke's 17th (and last) attempt at Project Light (who is a scientific experiment created with the goal of harnessing the powers of one of the Halves of Solaris, known as Iblis the Flame)

Project Shadow on the other hand, is the one and only of himself (the ultimate lifeform) whose original creation under Gerald Robotnik was, like Project Light, meant to harness the powers of one of the two halves of Solaris, his being Mephiles the dark.

The Bio lizard and the Chaos clones were part of a failed abandoned project of trying to harness the God powers of recreating Chaos themselves.

Iblis and Mephiles are some of the gods the Ancients worshipped before the collapse of their old civilization, the two are quite literally halves of a bigger God (Solaris, who does not have a design in the AU yet).

It's important to remember in this AU that despite the two being created within the same facility/on ARK, they are not related by blood at all.

Shadow still retains his black arms DNA (with a twist) and was created by Gerald and his team,

Sonic's DNA is that of one of the preserved remains of one of the royal children from the collapse of the Ancients, and he was created by Thorndyke and his team

(and he and Gerald had very... Clashing views on the ethics/morals of how they treated their respective creations.)

Dr. Thorndyke was not a nice man, from the few interactions shadow and maria had with him. He was a very secretive man when it came to any version of Project Light. They didn't even meet our Project Light - ver. 17 (who we all know as Sonic) until 3 years before shit hit the fan - to say the least.

Shadow, while being in stasis for 50 yrs had his memories slightly tampered with, while he remembers most of ARK, he does not remember sonic (but feels unusually drawn to him for some unexplainable reason) and Sonic had been accidentally sent 50yrs into the future instead, but unlike shadow he has lost all of his memories on ARK - poor blue couldn't even remember his own name (dubbed 'Little Light' by Maria) and was largely mute until he met Tails and Co. His name "Sonic" technically came from Eggman, constantly referring to him as a "SuperSONIC nuisance" lmao

But yeah thanks for sending this ask! Even if it's been a minute ToT

[michaels-gardenview-blog]

Michael's master post

The only official OC other than the villian (ichor) you in @gardenview-gang

hi everyone! The names Micheal, nice to meet you all! I'm one of the newer toons around gardenview. So it thought I would make this blog so you all can meet me, see ya!

Reference by @expectsomechange

current trinkets:

Microphone and thermos

below is how they would work in game, ooc stuff, and relationship charts

relationship charts:

rules:

No nsfw

Be nice if ya can

Micheal facts:

Skills: lock picking, driving, singing, unscrewing things, hotwiring cars. Stealing. He's like a crook lol!

Issues: touch starved, dependency issues, fear of abandonment. Is normally laid-back, but can go on sugar rushes. Is a sugar holic

Voice claim: bf (blue haired one) from this video

vee is his cousin

Trinket: microphone

Boosts stamina recovery by 50% but lowers stealth by 25%

Full Name: Micheal feedback version 1

Age: adult

Sexuality: bisexual, asexual and polymarous (but fine to be in a single relationship)

Toon type: rare

Gender: male (he/him)

How they would act in-game:

Stats:

Rarity: rare

Role: distraction/stunner

Hearts 🤍🤍🤍

Speed:⭐⭐⭐⭐(17.5 walking, 27.5 running)

Stamina:⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐️

skill check:⭐⭐⭐️

Stealth: 0 stars (-5)

extraction speed: ⭐⭐⭐

(Yes I know, sorta OP stats, the abilities will make it make sense)

ability 1:

Mic drop

Micheal slams their mic into the floor, creating a shockwave. stunning any nearby twisted for 2 seconds and disabling their hurtboxes in that time, also attracts all twisted attention within the range of the ability,

using it on a stunned twisted extends the time of stun up to 9 seconds total (at a time)

The cooldown is a second, for mic to pull the mic back up by the wire

Applies one stack of confusion each time it's used for 10 seconds per use

This ability also uses 55 stamina

Repels ranged attacks

Ability 2:

supersonic

Micheal begins using sound waves to vibrate at a rapid pace, allowing him to move much faster when walking (he would have 35 speed, the equivalent of a seven star speed toon running )

in exchange, he is losing all stars in extraction and skill check until the end of the floor, and not being able to run, he also looses 3.5 stamina per second when this is In use, if he runs out of stamina, he can't move again until panic mode, or he fully recovers his stamina, plus, the speed is hard to control

His legs also do the super peel out thing sonic's does in sonic CD (becoming a ♾️ shape) when moving, and he flicks in and out of visibility (not enough to be useful, it's cosmetic)

Last cosmetic change when it happens, his eyes turn grey

strategey:

STAY AWAY FROM PUMPS

I cannot stress this enough, stay away from pumps, you are the least stealthy thing in the game, you can be found almost instantly, if you are still, on a mini game, you will die

Micheal is a stunner and distractor, working well with toons like pebble and astro, and being beneficial to toons like vee.

The main strategy with micheal is assisting other toons, with his ability mic drop allowing him to create a area-wide safety net for other toons, and allowing the Micheal player to get out of corners.

Michaels high speed allows him to out walk most twisted, and out-run all twisted's , just barely out speeding twisted pebbles

Michael's low stealth can prove an issue on later floors, when twisted like twisted astro and twisted vee can overwhelm him.

Michaels main use is quick assists, for example, he sees his friend running from multiple main twisted, and runs in with a mic drop, before running away from the situation.

It is recommended to have astro nearby if possible when playing Micheal, as his stamina regeneration abilities allow micheal to see more use, and use his ability more. Along with at least one other distractor (ideally pebble) to prevent him from being rushed when tired

micheals stamina becomes a huge priority when supersonic, but in exchange he becomes insanely fast, allowing him to out speed

Despite being high-matinence, if played correctly Micheal can be integral to a team

Ideal trinkets for him:

dog plush + speedy shoes

The classic distractor set up

water cooler + friendship bracelet:

Despite the speed debuff, the water cooler is worth it, and the friendship bracelet can give forty stamina if everyone is alive, and if you are playing your role as this character correctly, they should be. Micheal is already fast, so the 5 percent debuff is not much. In total you gain 90 stamina.

This adds up to 290 stamina, more than enough for most situations

sweet charm + thermos

this set-up is geared towards more frequent but brief encounters, get in, get out, with the thermos to regen stamina faster, and the sweet charm reducing the stamina cost of your ability by 8 precent (new cost of ability is 64.4 instead of 70) and reduce the speed of stamina drain with supersonic to 2.5 per second

savoury charm and sweet charm:

This is for supersonic usage, allowing for easier use of the ability, and a backup if it crashes

Bad trinkets for him:

Purses: mid

any extraction speed boosters: I cannot stress this enough, stay away from pumps, you are the least stealthy thing in the game, you can be found almost instantly, if you are still, on a mini game, you will die

Wrench: same as above

Performance check boosters: same as above

night cap: see above

vees remote is actually fine.

bone: you can? Kinda sucky but you do you

Old reference and stuff with the old reference in it:

This is by @lovesickshell :

[tabletopmonsteroftheweek]

Phenomenon: The Sculk

A type of xenofungus of unknown origin that is almost pitch black with blue glowing dots on it and the texture of lichen. It's soft and sticky to the touch. It could have been from the depths of a cave or from a meteorite that crashed long ago. The fungus thrives in the dark and spreads when it tastes death upon its fruiting body. Whenever anything dies on it and it spreads, the material it spreads to turns almost bone-like. It only seems to spread upon dirt, gravel, clay, granite, and stone, but it's rare for it to spread to other materials as well such as wood.

Once it settles into its home, it will do anything in its power to protect it. It will grow nodules that will sense noise, which in turn will send signals to a strange bone-like structure called a Sculk Shrieker to call out. If the Shrieker calls out enough, the true guardian of the Sculk will rise from the lichen and charge at whatever made the noise.

Type: Biohazard (motive: to infect, harm, and spread)

Power:  

Spread & Grow

Overwhelming Presence

Summon The Warden

Weakness: Simply scraping the Sculk with an iron hoe and putting it in a metal soundproof container can help contain it for relocation. Once its contained, it will not be able to summon The Warden.

Custom Moves:

Spread & Grow: anything that dies on it, whether its a fly or a hunted rabbit, will help it spread more onto whatever material its next to

Overwhelming Presence: Whenever someone travel upon any remnant of the Sculk, they feel an overwhelming presence of something watching them.

Monster: The Warden

A 9ft tall humanoid covered head to toe in the Sculk. They are broad bodied with thick arms and elephant-like legs & feet. It has no eyes, instead a massive mouth on the front and strange tendrils on the side of the head. Its chest is exposed, revealing its ribs and what seem to be a glowing, beating heart. The heart beats faster when it's on the hunt.

Type: Executioner (Motive: to punish those that enter The Sculk's territory)

Powers:

Unnatural strength

Incredible speed

Enhanced senses

Supersonic Blast

Clouded Vision

Weakness: The Warden is completely blind and relies on vibration, smell, and touch in order to find its mark. The easiest way to avoid it from emerging all together is to sneak around the Sculk and don't trigger the Shriekers. One can also divert its attention by throwing something against a hard surface.

You can also overwhelm its senses by multiple people making noise- as it only focuses on one target, it will get confused on what to go after next.

To kill the Warden, one has to strike right at the heart in its chest. When it's killed, the Sculk will take time to regenerate a new Warden to send out.

Attacks:

Supersonic Blast (3 harm far forceful magic)

Heavy Slams (4 harm hand)

Harm: 16

Custom Moves:

Clouded Vision: Anyone who gets close to The Warden will lose their vision. If a hunter gets too close, they must roll with +cool. On a success, they avoid losing their sight and won't have to roll again when they get close. On a mix, the won't lose their sight but will have to roll again if they get close. On a miss, they lose their sight- they take -1 ongoing on Act Under Pressure, Kick Some Ass, Use Magic, Investigate a Mystery, and Read a Bad Situation until they are able to get away from the Sculk.

Minion: Sculk Shriekers

Thicker version of the Sculk with four rib-like protrusions set in a circle. In the center of the circle is a writhing glowing mass. Each corner between the protrusions are circular nodules that look like eyes.

Type: Renfield (motive: to push the monsters to the victims)

Powers:

Clouded Vision

Loud Shrieking

Sense presence via sculk sensor

Harm: 1 harm (armor 2)

Weakness:

Metal hoe or explosions- anything else won't hurt it

It won't react if there's no sensor nearby

Custom Moves:

Clouded Vision: Anyone who gets close to The Warden will lose their vision. If a hunter gets too close, they must roll with +cool. On a success, they avoid losing their sight and won't have to roll again when they get close. On a mix, the won't lose their sight but will have to roll again if they get close. On a miss, they lose their sight- they take -1 ongoing on Act Under Pressure, Kick Some Ass, Use Magic, Investigate a Mystery, and Read a Bad Situation until they are able to get away from the Sculk.

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 9/10

Hangster crackfic (that kind of turned serious and then hurt-comfort). There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT

PART NINE

              He feels uneasy, unable to take any action right now that would make things better and he doesn’t like it. Instead he’s forced to watch multiple versions of himself successfully flirt with their own Roosters, and he’s seen so many versions of himself kiss so many different versions of Rooster now. There have been soft and sweet, hard and possessive, passionate, glancing pecks of lips and apart from Ten and Fifteen, they’ve all, hopefully, disappeared back to their own places in the universe and happy with it.

              He glances across the bar to where he can see Javy, Rooster and Thirteen talking to himself and he wonders if that will be enough. God he hopes it’s only the one universe, hates that the very idea that there might be more. Fuck. There are probably universes where he died. Universes where he flew the mission instead of Rooster. It hasn’t escaped his notice that there are none of them here, although the universes where Rooster isn’t even a pilot, what happened there? So many of them have already gone and he looks frantically at Three and Five, their Jakes looking very relaxed, all things considered. He gets up and heads over to them.

              “Hey. Can I ask you guys a couple of questions?”

              “Yeah, of course.” “Sure man.”

              “You’re both naval aviators where you come from right?”

              They both nod.

              “The uranium mission. Did you fly it?”

              “Yep.” “Sure did.”

              Jake hums under his breath, isn’t sure where he’s taking this line of questioning, then older Jake is there, looking at them all but also clearly judging them, nursing a cup of tea of all things and Jake wonders where the hell he got tea from at the Hard Deck.

              “What are you guys talking about?” Older Jake asks, and Jake frowns, because this version of himself seems so put together, like he has his life all sorted and is kind of smug about it. The fact that it’s also himself is even more annoying for some reason.

              “The uranium mission.”

              “Oh,” older Jake says, pulling a displeased face.

              “Did you fly it?” Jake asks him and he’s shaking his head.

              “God I wanted to, thought it was the only way I’d keep him alive. But saved him just as that fifth gen released its missile. Still have nightmares about being late. Like if I hadn’t already been completely buckled in, just that brief moment of needing to do up an extra fastener you know? Crazy that that’s what it came down to…”

              “Yeah,” Jake breathes, “crazy.” He has the same experience Jake has.

              He had refused to get out of his plane, even when all the other Daggers had been back on deck. He’d sat there feeling numb until it came through that Rooster’s ESAT was live and supersonic. He’d gone from numb to buzzing, working through his pre-flight checks immediately, nodding a ready-signal to Hondo when he asked if he was ready for takeoff. He had never been more ready. The idea that all it might have taken was for someone to force him out of his plane to stop him from being able to save both Rooster and Maverick makes him feel sick. God. He’s never going to let people give him shit for being a stubborn fuck ever again.

              “We both saved him.”

              “And he didn’t need saving where we came from, because he’s not a pilot.”

              “Not a Naval Aviator,” one of the Jakes corrects.

              “True,” the other Jake concedes, and Jake is reminded that Roosters Three and Five both said that they could fly planes, they just never joined the Navy. God, having a conversation with three other version of himself is starting to make his head hurt again. He prefers having all the Roosters, he could keep track of them much better.

              “Here, have some of this. It’ll help.”

              “I don’t like tea,” Jake says, pulling a face, and older Jake snorts.

              “Neither do I. Just try it you big baby.”

              Jake really doesn’t like him, wants older Rooster back. He’s much nicer to Jake.

              “Where did you get tea from anyway?”

              “Oh, I carry it with me. Just… pays to be prepared.”

              “With tea?” Jake asks, giving him a disbelieving look, sniffing at the cup. It doesn’t smell as bad as he thought it might. Taking a sip he realizes it’s one of those herbal blends, sweet and probably meant to have a calming effect or something.

              “It’s brought me a surprising number of good moments in my life.”

              Part of Jake wants to call him a weirdo, but he’s well aware that he’s talking to himself so it’s not a particularly scathing accusation, not one he thinks would particularly bother this older Jake anyway. Who seems to know what Jake is thinking anyway. Weirdo and an asshole.

              “He’s gone…” Rooster Thirteen says, appearing suddenly and it looks like he’s been crying and Jake’s heart squeezes tight.

              “Here,” older Jake says, taking the cup of tea from Jake’s hands and passing it straight to Thirteen, who takes it with a happy hum of appreciation and Jake blinks. Okay then, that whole tea preparation thing is for his Rooster, not for himself.

              “Thanks babe…” Thirteen says, and he slumps against older Jake, like he’s been through an emotional wringer and Jake guesses that maybe he has. He looks over to where Rooster is hugging Maverick and he’s glad they’ve sorted out their shit at least. He glances back to find Thirteen looking at him.

              “Just… be patient with him.”

              “What?”

              “With your Rooster. Be patient with him. He’ll get there. He’s just hurting.”

              Jake looks to Rooster again, then back to Thirteen who is stepping in close, his hand coming up to cup Jake’s jaw and Jake freezes, not sure what Thirteen is going to do exactly, but his hand drops and he’s pulling Jake into a hug.

              “You were not about to kiss an actual younger version of me,” older Jake mutters.

              “Don’t worry, you still look plenty good…”

              “I am good. I already made it right in our universe.”

              “Yeah, you did. And I love you in every single one. Come on. Lets get home.”

              Then Thirteen is stepping back, reaching for older Jake and smiling at him, kissing him sweetly-soft and then they’re gone, the cup of tea smashing to the ground.

PART TEN

[the-broken-truth]

What if Miguel is too late finding his daughter that he abandoned and she's now dead by an anomaly that wanted Venom?

And what if he found a different version of his daughter but she's the daughter of Eddie Brocks?

Miguel was destroyed - mind and soul - he had lost the one thing that truly belonged to him and he could never get it back. What happened, you wonder? His daughter - [Name] O'Hara - was sick of being ignored by her father and decided to go to another universe with Venom where the 2 of them didn't exist; there wouldn't have been a canon event there if there was no Spider-Man/Spider-Woman in the universe. While Miguel went to replace the dead version of himself who was the father to a young girl named Gabriella, [Name] decided to make her move to leave Earth-928 with her best friend; this went well for a month...until a Variant of Doctor Octopus took interest in [Name], or rather, in the symbiote she was bound to. [Name] was swinging through the buildings when she was hit with a supersonic pulse and Venom was stripped from her as she fell from the great height, hitting the concrete hard and dying upon impact.

Miguel had just returned from the collapsed universe when he lost Gabriella and the rest of the universe and decided to be a father to the one daughter he already had but when he found out that you were gone, he had Lyla search all the universes for you...and he found you...or rather, he found your death certificate. His eyes widened at the fact a Spider-Womanless Universe had a Spider-Woman & she was killed by a variant of Doc Ock. Miguel hung his head down and started to cry - both of his daughters were dead and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Wait... If there was another version of him, there had the have been another version of [Name], all he had to do was look for her and bring her there.

Miguel searched day and night - sunrise to sunset - and he was lucky - he found what he was looking for: A Spider-Variant of [Name] who was bound to a Symbiote named Sleeper and....she was the daughter of Eddie Brock. Miguel watched through his screens at [Name] - her blond hair and blue eyes looking up to her father with a smile; that's how you used to look at him and you would look at him like that again like a daughter wanting her father's approval. Eddie would pat your shoulder and praise you for the smallest things you did - from working on your coding to your crime fighting. Miguel looked at the desk before him and saw the artist's tablet - the only thing he had left of his daughter - he picked it up and looked through the artwork with a smile, his daughter was skilled in realistic art. He closed his eyes and cried he was going to get his daughter back. But first, he needed to alter the bracelet that her previous version had.

[devine-fem]

Just seeing the recent panels of Absolute Power #2… I just feel there’s unnecessary trauma dumping for Jon at this point.

Manchester Black was one thing, but Ultraman and now Lady Braniac & Amanda Waller is unnecessary… is this really the only way to keep Jon relevant and interesting????

I’m not denying there are fans of Jon even in his current rendition but the fact that most fans still to this day and even prior to Absolute Power or whenever DC “reboots” their comics… were hoping for the age-up to be erased or maybe even bring in a multiversal! version of younger Jon says a lot.

And for those fans arguing pre-ages up Jon fans only want him young due to his relationship to Damian…look I can somewhat sympathize.

I can’t speak for everyone one but yes I admit I was familiar with Jon due to the hype of Supersons. I’m sure most fans were probably aware of Jon because of SS but went back to check out his origins.

And as much as I adore Damian and Jon and their relationship with one another….I was complete ready for Jon to do his own thing separately from Damian.

I didn’t want Jon to be attached to the hip with Damian to stay revenant. Both deserve to figure out who they are as people and what type of hero they want to be (or if they want to)

We could have had Jon explore his Kyptonian heritage from his dad or Kara. Actually have a sibling/nephew(?) relationship with Kon.

Ground level stories of his interactions among the people of Metropolis or Hamilton (I guess Smallville even)

Dealing with the frustrations of hiding parts of him, the weight of being Superman…etc.

Maybe form a superhero team of his owe with Kathy or other space related hero’s (ex: Tai Pham) that deals with cosmic related stuff.

Basically Jon deserved better in terms of storytelling and we barely scratched the surface with DC deciding to crash course it.

Whoever you are… I love you.

I agree with absolutely all of this, my only thing is that I personally think that as long as DC is doing something interesting to Jon that makes his character nuanced then I don’t really care, they can throw in a bunch of ideas and see what sticks, it’s the only way with how much of a mess he is right now, we are still so early in his development that I don’t know what to expect.

But I can’t wait for his character to find some stable ground and get some themes in his stories that compel me like they once did. They were extremely close to ruining Jon Kent for me forever but… I can be won over I think. Absolute Power seems promising, I want to see what they do before I start judging.

[aingeal98]

I have like. Two versions of Damian Wayne in my head. I think it's a consequence of getting to know and love him via Morrison's run on him and then wanting to know more, doing research into his mother's side, and being horrified by how racist the retcons made were. It didn't really change how much I enjoy Damian in any significant way, because I liked him for his dynamic with the batfamily and how entertaining he is as Robin. It's just that when it comes to anything deeper than that, about what motivates him, what he internalized growing up, the impact his childhood abuse had on him, anything to do with Ras or Talia really... A lot of writers fail so badly at making it compelling and instead just make me cringe and want them never to touch the al Ghuls again. And so we end up with two Damians:

Damian Wayne aka the Damian I love: Most easily described as an in-character, well written Damian with a solid backstory. Robin Son of Batman and his Robin run both pull this off pretty well. They don't downplay the horror of his childhood but they don't cross over into cartoonish territory either, and they allow Damian to have complicated thoughts and feelings about what he did and what was done to him. You can see how his abuse shaped him without it being shoved hamfistedly down your throat, and I don't come away thinking "I have to ignore all of this no matter how important it is to his character because logically Ras and/or Talia would not fucking do that". Also he's hilarious and makes me root for him whether he's insulting his enemies or electrocuting Jason or dying for the fifth/sixth time. Like that's my son and I can write a million words on his mentality and how it's changed and his opinions on his parental figures and his character development and how he'd interact with x or y character and-

And the second Damian, aka the Woobie Damian. The one you get where hack writers want to give him a sad backstory to justify how Edgy and Badass and Damaged he is and write the most cartoonishly over the top evil Ras and Talia possible. Most recent example I can think of is Tom King saying Ras locked Damian in a box with no water for a week because he didn't tie his shoelaces right. Or Morrison's Talia murdering her own son. Or how SuperSons wrote Talia. And look, it's not that I won't accept horribly, ridiculously evil villains. My favourite character's dad abused her in more extreme ways than even the worst al Ghul writer could come up with. It's that these are characters with already established personalities and traits. Unless they are being mind controlled they would not act like that and do these things. Just like how Bruce Wayne wouldn't lock Dick in a cave and feed him rats. There are ways you can show the impact of growing up in a cult and raised by an evil grandfather and being told repeatedly that you are destined to lead them all into a better world and trained in the art of killing a man. And these writers fail miserably at pulling any of that off. It's as shallow and boring as "You know why I'm mean to you all the time? Because my family taught me love is a weakness. I said mean things to you and stabbed you but my grandfather used to beat me for showing kindness to animals. Don't you feel sorry for me now?"

It sucks. I hate it. Anything with that Damian in it, I automatically filter out of my personal canon. The only way I can think of making it good is if it's like the "Slice the Baby Saturday" meme, where Damian is just bullshitting to see how much he can get away with and deliberately testing his family with stereotypes. But unfortunately those writers are dead serious about Ras making Damian climb up a whole mountain with no safety gear even if he falls and breaks his arm or dies. Because that is definitely something you would do with your one and only heir. They're literally two minutes away from saying Ras gave Damian a puppy and then told Talia to kill it in front of him.

So basically when I say that I love Damian and he's my favourite male Robin, know that woobie Damian is not a part of this conversation. Real Damian I would kill for. A writer puts woobie Damian in front of me and says his mom stabbed him I say let him bleed out so I won't have to endure comics about him anymore.

[irenexana]

Limit: 300

Intake: 66

I'M BACK Y'ALL the festivities were Hell but new year new me and by that I mean a skinny version of me so time to lock in.

I plan on reading more this year, at least one book a month because I love reading but it's always hard for me to finish a book in less than a month. When I pick up a book I read five to ten chapters in less than a week and then I just stop? I don't know

I want the weight to drop at supersonic speed this year so LET'S DO THIS GALS

Also, I need more mutuals so feel free to dm me but only if you're 18+ thanks

[jellyfishjuliet]

one thing i’ve realized - older!jon slander because of wanting supersons back, and post-flashpoint!lor zod slander because of wanting chris back but without the baggage of his multiple tragedies are two sides of the same of coin. it’s like ppl love the concept of the Son of Superman but hate the very inevitability of the tragedy that is BEING a Son of Superman. we live with knowing lois can let clark go into the night because he belongs to the world and not just to her, but ppl struggle with accepting clark is destined to be a failure of a father BECAUSE of that same reason. you can’t be a father if you belong to the world, because being a father means you have to be your child’s number one, and that’s not something clark could do for chris OR jon, and usually of no fault of his own.

so if you can’t be a father bc you belong to the world, what does the world do? it sends your adoptive baby back to the shadow realm, and then your second baby gets kidnapped by some demonic version of you and abused in a volcano.

it’s fascinating bc one could argue that in the many versions of lois that has existed in the various continuities, there were times clark WAS the garbage partner and DIDN’T deserve her, just like there were times where one could argue she was being a bitch to the sweetest guy with the biggest burden. after decades and a crisis or ten, they did eventually find that middle ground where clois could exist with lois accepting she might become a widow eventually, and still that clark belonged to the world.

but adopting chris, having jon, losing chris twice, losing jon, getting them back in different ways and just not being really able to RAISE them because they’re GROWN….. it’s a challenge that’s gonna take decades more of storytelling to get to a good place bc clois have no choice BUT to be shitty parents, bc they married knowing the other could just die at any time. so what happens when the danger couple has kids? of course they can’t get their shit together! in theory they’re great ppl, but in practice they fail at the basics because they have no choice BUT to fail.

bc how do forgive yourself as a father for not being able to stop your son from sacrificing himself to save you from being his birth father’s warden in the phantom zone, just for him to get benjamin buttoned in that hellscape?

how do you forgive yourself as a mother for leaving your son to crazy peepaw bc of your own VERY real insecurities, only for your son to come back with a plastic smile and a glint behind his eyes bc he’s half mad but pretending be just fine bc your abandonment led him to being tortured by some madman during his pubescent years?

and then, adding fuel to fire, they both just…. let jon go to the 31st century. chris didn’t even get a return parade cuz they nuked the universe with flashpoint, but two strikes…… otho and osul gotta take this shit home for the fallen 😂😂😂

i don’t know where i was going with this, but im just saying, the chronicles of lois and clark being terrible parents is absolutely hilarious to me and i love it.