Today’s pet peeve: when people try to argue that super-power A is obviously better than super-power B by tacitly assuming that A comes with a vast array of secondary powers necessary to make optimal use of it, while B is exactly what it says on the tin.
(You know, like arguing that teleportation is obviously better than flight, then describing a hypothetical teleporter who’s also a clairvoyant with microsecond reflexes and superhuman faculties of spatial modelling, while at the same time insisting that our hypothetical flier would kill herself with her own acceleration because being able to fly doesn’t automatically suppose a body that’s capable of withstanding the stresses of flight.)
where a supervillain finds the pet of a superhero. they don’t know it belongs to the superhero. they become attached and post selfies. meanwhile, the superhero is worried to what horrors the villain will want holding their precious pet captive - surprisingly, the villain just really wants what is best for the pet and is open to sharing
“they’ve kidnapped GINGERBEANS!”
“are you sure? your cat is probably just under the porch again.”
“NO! That vile curr has absconded with my sweet darling cat!”
“dude, you got to stop talking like that when you’re out of costume…”
He fades away in her arms as Chronogirl
touches him, crumbling into insubstantial mist moment by moment as she clutches
at the threads of his existence, every moment they’d shared together, every
glowing laugh he’d belted out, every warm touch and searing kiss he’d given her
flaring into sudden light. She clutches
at the ashes of memory as they’re caught up in a sudden gale.
The dreams change. Now it’s her sprinting after Chat as he walks
blithely towards the Tyrannosaurus, reaching desperately for his tail, being
just that fraction of a second too late, watching as the massive jaws close
around him with the crunching of bone and the rending of flesh—
And now he’s the one being knocked from
Rogercop’s car, falling terminally to the earth below—
And now she’s a fraction of a second too
late with the truck, and Chat jerks once as the Inspector’s bullet hits him
then lays still—
And now he’s walking away from her, black
suit resplendent against a starless, moonless, black night sky, boots hissing
through black sand as he walks towards black mountains in the distance, a tall,
black-robed figure beside him—
She wakes, choking on a scream. She feels arms, tight around her waist, and
flails instinctively, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor; a familiar clawed
hand shoots out and grabs it. She grabs
the hand, gripping it in desperate, seeking fingers, clutching at its shape in
the predawn gloom.
“Hey, hey, Princess,” someone murmurs in
her ear as the hand sets the computer more securely aside. “It’s all right. Breathe, Princess.”
It’s Chat, sitting behind her, cradling her gently, rubbing his thumb in
soothing circles over the back of her hand.
Chat, breathing, the rise and fall of his chest a tangible presence on
her back, the warmth of his body a furnace against her clammy skin.
She whirls and pins him to her bed, kissing
him desperately, clutching him to her, touching him, feeling the muscles shift
beneath his suit, feeling the fever heat of him, feeling the life in him. After a minute, her heart slows from its
panicked tempo, and she lays her head down beside his, fighting to slow her
“Princess?” he murmurs with bruised lips, luminescent
eyes searching her face. “Are you all
Hi I’m Lexie! I love aliens and superheroes! I have 5 pets so safe to say I’m animal obsessed. I love Bob’s Burgers 👯 and can probably out drink you. I binge watch Criminal Minds and Law and Order: SVU and spend more than too much time and money on makeup. Hit me up!
Today’s pet peeve: when the author of a webcomic with a slow update
schedule decides to spend several consecutive pages laboriously
explaining some tiny worldbuilding detail that never ends up being
relevant to the actual plot.