Category Archives: Fiction

Who Is the Suicide Squad Joker?


After several differing, yet expounding conversations about this subject. I have sense altered my view on Harley and the Jokers association with one another. I see him akin to a Marionette, and she’s sort of a dangling puppet. Possibly a dollmaker more than anything else. He values her beauty, not because of who she really is but for what he designed her to be. This isn’t saying he wants her in the conventional humanized way, he really just covets her.

He doesn’t need her for a means to an end, he needs her to be sort of a public display of what he’s capable of. Its more to frighten people, and less about having a longing desire to be with her. This Joker doesn’t understand what caring is about, he covets a person’s use drains them of their life energy and disposes of them. Harley is nothing more than a manipulated daisy, turned into a blackened rose for a warning to those who cross this Monster.

He is completely void of any sort of compassion, love doesn’t exist in this relationship. You only see that because its in her head, its what she wants from him but he isn’t able to give it because he doesn’t care about her in that way. How could he? This Joker is a Dragon, I can now see why they used the Tattoo’s. Because in All Star Batman, that Joker actually does have a Dragon Tattoo on his back. I don’t really recall why this was the case, but it does sort of add up in that regard.

I am a bit disappointed I didn’t see it this way. I thought maybe the director/producers were going for something different, but then I realized this was the Joker we all know. Things are in your face, and then there are things that are hidden within him. I still have a problem with Jareds mannerisms, as well as speech however everything else to me is actually improved greatly.
If you see any sort of infatuation, or love between them it is completely one sided. Harley is true representation of what the Joker’s one bad day ideology pertains to, he corrupted her soul to prove a point. Not only to Batman, but to everyone else who comes into their world. He wants so badly to show that we are all as off the reigns as he is, and with her that is his triumphant achievement.

This is all she is, and its all she is ever going to be. Batman mocks Joker with a scowl, and the opposite could be said with her. She mocks society, by showing that Joker is right about everything he believes in. Its a display, its art if you will? Sort of how Jack Nicolson’s was in the original 89 flick, so in that regard he is very much like that in a lot of ways. See the world as he does, or die in agony its that’s simple. I believe this will be revealed in time, even to those holding out hope that there is something between them.

This man is crazy yes, but he has need for structor and a sense of balance in the world around him. Now this could just be a front, the whole club owner thing could be a way to keep Gotham PD. As well as any outside forces from interfering, however I feel as if this is just his mask. Maybe a way to copy what Batman does, he could very well know that Wayne is Batman. So this could be a way for him to mirror that way of life, this rivalry could be more than meets the eye. And I’m sure in the coming years, we’ll get to see what all of this really means.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger


What I Believe It All Means (DCEU Theory)

I have had a theory surrounding this scene in particular, since this film came out back in March. Feel free to follow me down the rabbit hole…. 😉

This entirety of this sequence was said to be a “Dream”. Now if you have no knowledge of the Multi Verse, or have just a seemingly untrained eye. Then you’d be fooled into believing that this is indeed the case, however this is completely false in context and application as a whole body. You notice something different right off the top here, these men working for Wayne clearly are not his. These are infiltrated agents of Lord Darkseid, Lex Luthor and Batman are working together in these sequences. Does this show Luthor? No it does not, because its not Jesse Eisenbergs version of the character. In fact, its the true iteration of Luthor. The trucks could very well be seen in cohesion, with the sequence of events leading up to Batman getting his hands on Kryptonite on the other Earth.

Which version of Earth is this? Your guess is as good as mine, but I don’t think the one we see throughout the film is the original. Batman is alone? No he’s not, this is just showing you at the end of his rope so to speak. The whole bit of his men have been taken down from the inside, the true Lex Luthor has been taken prisoner as well as other Justice League members. Who have either been killed for not talking, “Not giving up his true identity or location”. Superman has been guilt ridden, he has lost everything he holds dear to him. The sequence between he and his Father, which was expounded upon the in Ultimate Edition. Gives new life to what the discussion of the Horses could very well indicate. While this could be misconstrued as a Father Son chat, this was eluding to this alternate Earth scenario I believe.

This Earth is completely desolate, without the beacon of hope that is Superman.
Superman has been killed yes, but not for the reasons that you might think. Superman has to die, it was just something that was inevitable I feel deep down in my gut. This wasn’t just about paying homage to a few panels, this was about something far deeper and more meaningful. Bruce Wayne would have never changed, Diana would have never gotten off that plane. We very well could have had a similar situation play out in Justice League similar to this. The compound in this sequence is just like the exchange between Luthor’s men, and some dealers who got their hands on Kryptonite from the Indian Ocean. However, instead of Batman leading a revolutionary effort he was a lone vigilante with a more sinister agenda. Barry comes to him in the Speed Force from another Earth. Not to warn him of what’s to come, but of what to avoid from happening. The decisions made in the latter half of this film? It was all a culmination to lead us to something different.

Without Superman’s death? There cannot be new life, not in him and certainly not in his future team. As well as the people that clearly now are behind him 100%. Meaning the citizens of Metropolis, as well as probably the world by now after witnessing such a sacrifice. I believe all of the events you see now, have changed dramatically because of a paradox. Time does change, and we change all the time with it. Was Superman supposed to die? I don’t believe that was the set in stone plan, because as we’ve seen these things can and usually are played out differently. Depending of course on the actions of one person, that could change the entire culmination of an event itself. If that’s the sort of thing you buy into, which in this case can be the only alternative to this. Was the Kryptonite planted for this trap? Or did Bruce do it himself, to expose the men who were corrupt in his camp? Well, if you know the character you probably would think its the second one.

Did it backfire, because he didn’t see the Parademon’s coming? Or was he trying to be captured to get inside? I suppose since it wasn’t clear, the possibility’s are endless. However, if its the Batman I know and love he knew it was coming eventually. He knew that Superman was going to find him, and he planned accordingly for just such an occasion. Was he played? Or was he the dealer all along, on this Earth to survive this onslaught. You would think you would have to know exactly what to plan for. It cuts as Superman is clearly tearing his heart out, what happens after that we only can speculate. And of course assume that Batman is dead on that Earth. Its all sort of like that, just it would seem visually that there’s more to this scene than meets the eye at least to me.

I don’t believe Barry was a talking about Superman, I believe Barry was coming to him from another Earth. Where Superman had died and Darkseid had taken over entirely. But it wasn’t this one, because this one Superman is clearly still alive. Or was it Superman at all? Could very well have been a clone of sorts, Cyborg Superman potentially? Who really can say, I think that is also a possibility. However this particular Batman, has built a real future a community of people if you will. I believe he had built that trust that he was seeking overtime. I believe the vendetta was very personal, but not against Superman. But against the one who brought death and destruction in his wake, I believe Darkseid is to be feared. But maybe a little less now, that hope has been restored in Superman’s actions on that Earth.

I believe Lex has it wrong, because he truly was convinced in his altered mind state. That killing Superman was the best way to approach, however what he didn’t plan for foolishly was what would culminate because of it. This is why people don’t get it, this is why that death was so inspiring to me. Because none of this would have taken place, if it were not for that death. Darkseid loses now regardless, because the people and Superman’s allies have a new found purpose. What he and Lex clearly did not plan for, was the reaction to a this sacrifice. And what would come out of it eventually, from a stand point of hope for a better tomorrow. This is why Superman is the foundation, you had to break the man to get the God. And Doomsday impaling him did just that, it was all supposed to happen this way. Yes, it was a tragic event… yes it will be felt for years to come. But what comes from it? Exponential wonder, and potential for a better future. Something that the character has always stood for since his inception. =)

Contributors- Chris Ballenger

Movie Night

Contributor ~Amanda Zober

Stand By Me was playing on the giant TV in Marc’s basement. The Kittens had decided to have a movie night since Dean had never seen movies that everyone should have seen by the time they were twelve. He was very sheltered when it came to movie knowledge. How someone could go twenty years without seeing Stand By Me, or 10 Things I Hate About You was beyond any of them.

“Mean Girls is next!”

“How have you never seen Mean Girls?!”

Dean just rolled his eyes. He knew his friends were disappointed in his lack of movie watching. He didn’t need to constantly hear about it though. That wouldn’t stop the Kittens. When they got something in mind, they were hard-pressed to let it go anytime soon.

Charon and Oliver were sitting on the plush chair, lost in their own world. If the meowing became to frisky, then the others would say something, but for now, the clothes were still on. Amanda, Megan, and Sierra were sitting on the couch by the wall, playing with their phones. Dean and Amy were on the other side of the couch, watching the movie and cuddling. Chris was sitting in the middle of the couch with Ray’s head in his lap. The two had cuddled up to each other two movies ago and had yet to separate. Megan had been taking secret pictures of them and posting them on face book. Natalie, Julius and Marc were on the floor in front of the couch taking bets on how long it would take John and Peter to come back in the room.

John and Peter had left to go into the other room. They had been casting awkward glances at one another through the first few movies. About ten minutes before they had left to talk about something. Marc. Of course, had an idea of what it was. A quick glance at Amanda and Megan had him realizing that they were thinking the same thing.

The past weekend Amanda had held a party at her firehouse. After the party they had headed over to her house for a horror movie marathon and sleepover. Peter and John had volunteered to stay back and clean up first. Marc had gone over after twenty minutes to see what was taking them so long. He didn’t expect the two of them to be having sex. He had waited until they were done before making his presence known. The two had been embarrassed, but even more so when Marc had to call Amanda over. They couldn’t find the keys to the handcuffs binding Peter’s arms behind his back. The only one’s who knew about what happened were Amanda, Marc and Megan. Amanda couldn’t keep something like that from her best friend.

Since then things had been strained between the two Kittens. Peter and John couldn’t look at each other without blushing or stuttering. They sit as far away from one another as they can and have barely spoken since that night. The other Kittens weren’t sure what was going on and the two wouldn’t answer any questions. They had taken a page from Jamie Foxx and blamed that night on the alcohol. It didn’t explain why the stomach flip-flopped and their hearts flutter whenever they looked at each other. It was starting to become painfully obvious to the ones who knew that the stubborn men had feelings for each other.

Amanda, and Megan were texting each other, planning out scenarios of what was happening in the other room. They were on situation number five when Marc texted them and asked what they thought was going to go down. If Peter and John don’t figure their feelings out tonight, then they were going to have to stage an intervention, or at least scheme a way to get them together.

In the other room, John and Peter were sitting on the couch and looking anywhere except at the other. They knew that they needed to talk but they had no idea where to start. It wasn’t that they regretted what had happened, they just didn’t know how to act towards one another after the fact. They didn’t know how to handle it and weren’t ready to tell the others. Every time the shared a glance or their eyes met, they were afraid the Kittens would just know what had happened and ask for every detail. It wasn’t something they were ready to face.

If the night had been just a blur, then it would be easier to talk about. They could pass it off as an accident and move on. In some time they would even joke about it. If that were the case then everything would be so much better, easier. As it was, they remembered everything right down to the last detail. Every sight, every smell. Every taste and touch. It was like a movie playing in their minds. It was all so vivid. Every time they went to sleep it was like reliving that moment over and over, leaving them waking up to sticky sheets or cold showers more often then they’d care to admit.

The bruises on Peter’s wrists from the handcuffs were a physical reminder of that night. Every time something or someone brushed over them, he’d shiver, unable to stop his body from remembering how John’s hands felt as they moved across his body, feeling like they were everywhere at once. It would get him half-hard in a second. It was starting to frustrate him. He wanted more, but he wouldn’t break and ask for it. He was the one to take it last time. He wouldn’t be the one to submit to the growing sexual tension. He had more pride than that.

John wasn’t sure how to bring it up. A part of him wanted nothing more than for it to happen again, but he wasn’t sure whether or not Peter would get mad or offended. He didn’t know how the usually dominant teen would react to it considering he was turned into a submissive puddle under John’s talented hands. Being with Peter was like nothing John had ever experienced before. It was far more amazing than using his hand ever was.

They both jumped when the sound of a train blasted from the speakers. Peter turned to John and took a deep breath.

“This is stupid. It happened, so let’s just move on.”

John looked at Peter for a second before responding.

“You’re the one making it more awkward then it needs to be!”

“Shh! They could hear us!”

“Jeez! It’s not like we’re doing anything!”

Peter just sat there for a moment not saying anything. John waited patiently for his friend to say something, after a few minutes John sighed before deciding it was on him to talk about everything. Peter clearly wasn’t going to speak anytime soon.

“Unless you want us to be doing something?”

“No! It was a one time thing. Not gonna happen again!”

“Really? You’re getting a little defensive.”

“It is not happening again. It was the alcohol. It isn’t like I enjoyed it.”

“Oh really? I seem to remember that you enjoyed it very much,” John said, leaning closer to Peter, “I remember very well how much you loved it.”

Peter slid to the other end of the couch, trying not to let John’s words get to him. He wasn’t going to break. John smirked and followed Peter to the other side, pressing right up against him, pressing his mouth against the shell of the younger’s ear before continuing his speech.

“I remember all the little noises you made when my hands slid all over your body. I remember how amazing you looked, all hot and panting beneath me. I can remember you moaning my name as I deep throated you. I can remember all those lovely faces you made as I finger fucked you open; the tiny little mewls and pleads for more. Do you remember how you practically begged me to take you? You loved it Peter, just admit it.”

John could feel Peter’s heartbeat pick up, see his eyes dilating until they were almost black. He glanced down and could see the growing bulge in the object of his lust’s cargo shorts. It seems like young Peter was being turned on by his dirty talk. John chuckled as he moved one hand to skim down Peter’s chest before lightly squeezing the bulge. Peter gasped and jerked into the touch. John continued on.

“Is this turning you on? Hearing my talk about how hot you looked, wanton and begging like a slut under me? You like hearing me describe how my fingers worked your tight ass open for my cock? You can’t deny it when the proof is so very visible. You loved every second of it last time. Your entire world was reduced to the feeling of my cock pounding into you, wrecking you from the inside out.”

Peter couldn’t breathe. He was achingly hard, and knew that his voice wouldn’t be steady enough to answer. He didn’t know whether it was the dirty talk or because it was John dirty talking, but it got to him in the most inconvenient way. He needed to stop this before anyone in the other room finds them or he cums in his shorts. Either one would clue them all into what happened. He turned his head and silenced John with a frantic kiss.

John was shocked by the sudden kiss but quickly returned it, trying to fight dominance from Peter. If it was the last thing he’d ever do, John would make Peter admit that he loves John taking control and forcing him to submit. With a little adjusting, John had Peter laying on his back with John’s weight pressing him into the beige upholstery. Peter’s arms were wound around the older’s neck, fingers tugging his hair.

The need for air was catching up with them. With a final bite to Peter’s lower lip, John broke the kiss. He wasn’t done though. He lowered him head into the crook over Peter’s neck and bite down. Peter struggled to suppress his surprised cry. John laved his tongue over the bite, trying to soothe away the pain. He kissed his way up the side of Peter’s neck before pressing his lips against the younger’s ear once more.

“Why don’t we take this into the bathroom? We could use that awesome shower?”

Without waiting for a reply, John pulled Peter off the couch and dragged him towards the bathroom. Once they were inside, he shoved the younger into the door and continued his assault on Peter’s neck, darkening the already purpling hickey. His hands wandered to the hem of Peter’s t-shirt, lifting it up and pulling it off.

Peter’s arousal was taking over. Rational thought was disappearing. All he wanted was more of this feeling. He didn’t care if everyone in the next room caught them. The only thing he could care about was John’s lips, the feeling of his facial hair rubbing against his skin, making it raw and sensitive. He barely noticed it when John’s fingers deftly popped the button of his shorts, making quick work of the zipper. His shorts hit the floor and he just kicked them away, his own hands trying to get John’s top off.

When there mouths met again, it was all tongue and teeth, trying to force the other to submit. John wasn’t going to lose, even if it meant playing a little dirty. He shifted one hand from Peter’s lithe waist and towards his crotch. His fingers lighting skimming over the fabric, making Peter moan into the kiss. John added a little more pressure, massaging the hardened length through the material of Peter’s boxers. The track star’s mind went hazy, and John used that to his advantaged and claimed control of the kiss, forcing Peter into submission with some well placed touches.

John quickly removed his own pants, leaving them both in nothing but their boxers. Peter’s hands were buried in John’s messy locks, forcing their moths closer together. It was so good, but no where near enough. John pulled Peter’s boxers off, letting the younger finish kicking them off before he removed his own. Moaning at the feel of the cool are on his over heated flesh.

John moved closer, pressing his chest flush against Peters, causing their erections to brush together. The friction caused them to break the kiss and moan. At the moment John would have been content to just let them keep rutting against each other like the horny teenagers they were, but he had a mission. He would make Peter admit to liking John dominating him. He would admit to liking John using him as a personal fuck toy who’s only purpose was for John to get off on or in. With all the willpower he could muster, John pulled away from Peter, smirking at the displeased whine that left Peter’s mouth in protest. That boy had no idea how easy he was making John’s mission.

The older teen grabbed Peter’s hand and led him into the shower. Before Peter could say anything, John had him pinned to the tiled wall, the cold stone making Peter shiver. Reaching to the side, John turned the shower on, nearly scalding water pouring down on them from faucets at every angle.

Hearing the bathroom door close, Marc paused the movie. The shouts of protest were ignored as he got up and peered into the other room. Seeing that neither male was in there, he quickly guessed what they were going to do. He came back in and looked to Amanda.

“They both went into the bathroom.”

Amanda’s face lit up and a not so comforting smile took over her features. She leaned over and whispered into Ray’s ear. Her partner in crime jumped up and laughed. He leaned over and gave Chris a peck on the cheek before saying that he’d be back in a minute. Ray and Amanda ran out of the room, leaving confusion and a very red Chris in their wake.

The two snuck quietly towards the bathroom. They waited a few minutes until they heard the shower turn on. They giggled and waited another minute before slowly opening the door. They had never been so grateful that Marc’s bathroom didn’t have a lock on it. When the door opened enough for them to get in, they gathered up their friends’ clothing as fast and quietly as they could. They were a little disappointed that the shower doors were too fogged up to see through, but they guessed that they should be thankful, because that means that they couldn’t be seen either.

As quietly as they entered, the two left, silently shutting the door behind them. The ran back into the room where their fellow Kittens were. They jumped on to the couch and proudly dropped Peter and John’s clothes in a heap in front of them. They couldn’t help but to laugh as a look of realization crossed the other Kitten’s faces.

There were rapid fire questions and a lot of confusion before Amanda and Megan managed to quiet everyone. Marc and Amanda explained everything that had happened after the party last weekend and why John and Peter had been acting so weird in the last week. They had all decided that if those two didn’t admit their feelings tonight, and tried to pass it off as just sex, then they would take matters into their own hands to get them together.

Those two just try and deny it when they have to walk out of the bathroom together with no clothes. The proof was laying in a pile of clothes in front of all of them.

“If we’re having sex again, then I’m topping this time.” Peter told John.

The older teen just smiled at him before kissing his neck. Slowly John moved down Peter’s body, leaving a trail of searing kisses. When he reached the navel, John poked his tongue out and lapped at the water that had gathered there, making Peter gasp. Slowly he slid his tongue down, biting at the V of Peter’s hips. He rested his weight on his knees and left butterfly kisses on the inside of Peter’s thighs. He could feel the muscles quivering under his lips.

“I’m serious. I’m topping this time.”

John didn’t say anything in response; instead he just swallowed Peter whole. The younger choked on his words. The feeling of John’s hot mouth on his length was even better then he remembered. He threaded his fingers through John’s wet hair as the older started to bob his head.

The steam swirled around them, the heat adding to the heady haze of lust consuming them. It was hard to breathe and dizzying but that made every touch that much more intense. Their skin was tingling, pleasure thrumming through every pore. It was all so much that Peter didn’t even notice the first water soaked digit make it’s way inside of him.

John hummed around the erect member in his mouth. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of Peter, noticing that he felt looser than he had last time, he easily slipped in another digit without Peter knowing. He scissored them apart, feeling around for that certain bundle of nerves. After a moment, he realized that Peter was already very slick inside. The thought traveled down to John’s already hard cock. Peter had already fingered and opened himself up before the party. John added another finger, stabbing them against the younger’s prostate, causing Peter to cry out in pleasure.

John pulled off of Peter with a slick pop. Peter whined at the loss, looking down at John through half lidded eyes.

“You’re already so slick and open down here” Peter looked away, a blush spreading from his ears down his neck and chest, “Did you finger yourself open before the party? Did you imagine it was me? My fingers sliding in and out of your greedy hole, spreading you open enough to take my cock? Were you thinking about me fucking you open, making you take me all in, hard and fast? Or did you use something bigger than your fingers? Shove a toy deep inside of you, trying to make you feel as full as I did?”

John brushed against Peter’s prostate again before pulling him fingers out. He ignored Peter’s whine at the loss, and stood up. He pushed Peter into the wall. He used his hands to push Peter’s legs up until the younger wrapped them around John’s sturdy waist. Without any warning, John thrusted himself to the hilt inside of Peter. Peter cried out. He had prepared himself earlier and John had worked him open more, but none of that fully prepared him for how big John was. He was barely given any time to adjust before John was pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in full force.

John started a harsh pace, Peter scrabbling for purchase on John’s back. The older teen could feel Peter’s blunt nails digging into his back, positive that he would have red streaks up and down his back. He just tightened his grip on Peter’s hips and adjusted his angle until he had Peter crying out for more. He continued to brutally thrust into the younger, abusing the teen’s prostate over and over.

“You like that, huh? You like that I barely had to stretch you out? I wonder how many times you fingered yourself. How many times you thought about my cock splitting you in two, tearing you apart, and making you come undone. You’re loving this. You love having my hard cock thrusting into your slutty ass, loosening you up until you’re just wrecked and gaping. Just look at you, moaning and begging for it like a wanton bitch in heat. You look amazing like this, sitting on my dick and taking it like you were built for it.”

Peter’s head thanked against the wall. It was all too much. John’s lust deepened voice muttering dirty words in his ear, the raspy sex voice, and the constant stimulation to his prostate. It was all too much but by far not enough. He needed more, craved it, but couldn’t find his voice to ask for it, beg if he needed to; pride flown out the window in his lust driven state.

John could feel the familiar coiling in his stomach, he sped up his thrusts and bit down on the hickey he left on Peter’s neck, darkening it until it was nearly black. He was sure that their friends could hear every moan and whine Peter let out. He let go of one of Peter’s hips, moving his hand to fist Peter’s cock. It only took a few more thrusts and a couple flicks of the wrist before Peter was cumming, coating both of their abs and chests with his seed.

The feeling of Peter’s wall clamping down on him was all he needed a couple strokes and John as done, he buried himself in Peter as far as he could before spilling his seed deep inside his lover. They both held onto each other as they road out the after shocks of their orgasms. When their breathing evened out and their heartbeats slowed back down, John pulled out of Peter. The latter whimpering at the loss of feeling so full.

John could feel his cum dripping out of Peter’s wrecked hole. He moved one of his hands to scoop up some of his essence on his fingers. He lifted them up to Peter’s mouth and slid his fingers inside, forcing Peter to clean his cum off of his fingers. Pulling his fingers out of Peter’s mouth, John soon replaced them with his mouth. He could taste himself on Peter’s tongue and he couldn’t think of anything hotter.

They lazily made out for a few minutes until the water turned cold. The two got out and went to dry off, but when they reached for there clothes, they realized that they were gone. It didn’t take them long to figure out that their so called friends had taken them. They must have been more into each other then they thought if they didn’t even notice someone coming into the bathroom and taking their clothes.

They shook their heads and wrapped towels around their waists before making their way out of the bathroom. They would have gotten farther if Peter’s legs hadn’t turned to jelly at the door. John had fucked him good; he could barely stand, let alone walk. John just chuckled and leaned to to give Peter a piggy back. He would have carried the younger, but he figured Peter wouldn’t be happy to be carried bridal style into the next room after being fucked up the ass within an inch of his life.

When the boys walked into the room, Marc paused Mean Girls as everyone looked at their two naked friends, who had clearly just had shower sex, fantastic shower sex if those noises were anything to go by. Dean covered his eyes, not wanting to see his male friends in the buff. Everyone else just shamelessly stared at the pair.

“Did you guys confess your love yet?” Ray asked.

John and Peter just turned red.

“Can we just have our clothes back?”

Amanda, Natalie, Charon, and Ray all looked at each other before simultaneously saying, “Nope!”

“You don’t get your clothes back until we get all the juicy details!” Amanda said.

“Well it’s easy to see that Peter took it.” Megan added.

Everyone just laughed as the sixteen year old buried his head in John’s neck. This was going to be a long night for them, but a very fun one for everyone else.

Thoughts On Superman/Snyder Dynamic


That’s the thing, Superman had to begin his journey as a very flawed human being. Always back tracking, consistently second guessing his own purpose. In fact if you pay attention closely in MOS, you’ll see this transition happen seamlessly. He starts out as a very lost traveler, he discovers the extent of his ability’s and after that almost becomes to big for his britches.

He fights a completely unknown force, of which he know’s nothing about. Only to the extent of what Jor El chose to share with him. He simply wanted Clark to find his own way, Johnathan did as well. But he also wanted Clark to make the right call, when the time was right to do so. He didn’t want him to take a step too early, for fear of being judged by another race harshly. If that battle with Zod didn’t happen when it did, the people would have had time to focus in on Clark as a potential enemy himself.

He realizes that he has to choose, between two worlds he barely even knows. He goes with his human half, the only reason why this takes a back seat in Dawn Of Justice. Is because Clark is questioning that call entirely in the previous film. He is wondering, if leaving with his remaining species may have been the best option. Because no one understands why he did the things he did, and as per usual they focus in on the deaths. Instead of the fact, that he was the only one capable of defending them. And did this to the best of his ability, at the time when he was just discovering his own biology.

Clark wants to be that Hero we all know and love, but without this road to this point it wouldn’t feel as authentic. You have to put these heroes feet to the fire, you have to test them in multiple ways. Clark’s decision fighting Doomsday was saying, “Ok, I now understand what this all means, and I am ready to be the shining beacon on the hill”. Batman understood this, after the revelation of his Mother prior to Clark’s death at the hands of Doomsday. He understood that he was just trying to save his family, and that is why it happened the way it did. He brought out a compassionate side of Bruce that had been long forgotten.

When you see Superman again, he will be the hero we all wish for him to be. But before that? This all had to happen, it was all a necessity to get here to this point. This whole road, was about getting Superman to this place. You had to deconstruct, a seemingly unbreakable God like figure. And rip him apart, to finally bring him to the forefront of savior. You will see who he really is now, and he will accept it without delay.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Just Some Controversial Thoughts


And lets not forget, the fact that you also believe that this Cosmic being is the same in three separate forms. So, when you look at it in those terms God had sex with his own Mother, so that he could be born inside her in human form. I think you know what we call that, I don’t have to remind you. 😉 Then again, you’ll try to justify it by saying “Chris, just accept it because God”.Right? You can’t say virgin births happen, no one has ever had children of their own without having sex. IT DOESN’T EXIST!!!!!

Where do people come up with these things man, its like we just put logic and reasoning away and don’t think for ourselves. Why? Because, Hope? Well, if you’re waiting on him to come save you… i’ll be sure to put in a few dollars in for the road trip fund. maybe he’ll use it for gas money and treats to get there. This is all creepy is what I’m saying, its all one big ball of fucking odd. Why can’t we just die, and let be the end of it? I’m perfectly content with taking an extensive nap. =)

P.S. If my Dad can laugh at it on Fathers Day, then you can to. =)

Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Living, Breathing Art

Contributor ~ Amanda Zober

You can find beauty in anything, art in the unlikeliest places; you can find inspiration to create anywhere you are, as long as you look for it. It can set you free, raise you higher than you’ve ever been before if you let it. With practice and passion you can turn your own life into your most valued and perfect work of art.

Music is your escape. You work to find the beat and rhythm in even the most mundane of tasks. It helps to calm the frantic beating of your heart; makes the chaotic mess of thoughts in your mind still, even if it’s for just one short moment, just enough for you to think clearly.

It took you a long time to get here, to be in this place in your life where you can truly say that you know who you are and you know what you’re doing with your life. There’s a list of reasons hiding somewhere in your past that once made you believe that you would never make it to this point in your life. There were people at every turn telling you that you would fail. There is a part of you that takes pride in the fact that you didn’t let their negativity get you; instead of resigning yourself to defeat, you used their hateful words to steel your resolve and turned it into motivation to prove them wrong.

Looking back, it makes you proud that you can say that you worked hard and earned your place in this world. While you aren’t in the forefront of the public eye, people still know your work; it’s anonymous, yes, but there are still people who are trying to emulate you. You take it as a compliment of the highest honor, after all imitation is the highest form of flattery.

If asked, you wouldn’t truly be able to define the type of artist that you are. There is no one specific skill set that you’ve honed to perfection. If pressed, you’d have to say you were a type of mixed media artist. There is music you compose while creating your art that no one will hear when they finally see the completed piece. What the news will eventually talk about is the paintings and sculptures that make up the finished product that is your creation.

You’ve traveled all over the world as discreetly as possible to leave your artwork in hidden alcoves, old parks, buildings scheduled for demolition, trying to leave something beautiful in places that people have long since abandoned. It gives you a sense of joy and happiness when someone stumbles across all your hard work and people come from all over to cover it as a semi-important new piece. It’s become something of a guessing game among the who’s who of the art world, and media at large to figure out who this mysterious artist is that has left magnificently detailed portraits and sculptures all over the world without having been caught yet.

There are still those neigh-sayers that are claiming your work to be vandalism; you just believe that they don’t quite know what art truly is. You’re trying to take the places that the world has forgotten and abandoned, and doing your hardest to make them into something again, something that people will flock to and talk about for generations to come. You’d say it could be considered street art in it’s finest form, but you wouldn’t like to give yourself a big head; cockiness would lead to you being found out, and you like being anonymous.

You like the idea of people judging and appreciating your art for exactly what it is, and not on who you are. Growing up where you did, and sitting on the edges of the more popular social groups, you know that people buy into the person selling the ideas and art more so than the art itself. That isn’t something you wanted. You didn’t want to become the brand that sold your work, you wanted your work to stand on it’s own and sell itself. You think you’ve done a pretty good job of that. With no one knowing who the artist is, all they can buy into is your art itself.

When you need to get inspiration for a new piece, you like to volunteer at community centers in whatever city you happen to be in at the time. You’ll pick up odd jobs at local dives, meeting the regulars and paying your way while teaching little kids about art. It’s a modest living, but you’re content with it. It’s a life free of obligations and demands.

When you do finally get an idea for what you’re next piece is going to be, you’ll ask for help from some of the older high school kids that you work with at the community center, and from some of the rough and tumble regulars from whatever place you’re currently working at. You try to find the more unsavory locals, the high school bullies, the angry old drunks, and short tempered women; you want to take these people who have such a hard time showing kindness to others, and show them how beautiful the world can be when you open your hearts to art. You want to be the one to make a difference for them, to change their views on the world. You put your faith in them to keep our identity a secret and so far no one has let you down in the decades you’ve been doing this.

You’re current piece has some great volunteers helping you. They are parolees and their probation officers thought it would be good for them to take classes at the center. They all seem to harbor a great deal of vitriol, and you know that both of them just want to see the world burn down around them. You’re hoping you can change that, even if they don’t seem to think all that much of you. Currently you have one of them sprawled out across a bench that seems to be decomposing in some areas.

You’re at a park a few miles out of the city; it’s been abandoned for more than a decade and the locals believe that it’s haunted. Most people don’t come here, but you know some curious teenager will investigate it sometime in the near future, like all teens do with local legends. They will discover your art and soon this poor old place won’t be so abandoned any more.

There is an old swing set that you want to be the focal point of this piece. You are thinking about modeling it after Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. It has taken some time, but you have figured out the logistics on how to make it work. You already have the stuffed arms and legs made, you just have to set up the torso so it hangs right on the old steal frame of the swing; after that. it’s just a matter of sewing the plush limbs onto where you need them to be.

You are covered in the thick paint you used to color the main body. It makes it a little harder to get the torso hung up right, with your hands covered in the slick sticky liquid. You’ve had to use fishing line to hold the head and the first set of arms into place. The first set of legs is perfect to be hanging straight down the way they are. Sewing on the second set of arms takes work. They are heavier than you’d anticipated, but you cut the seams on the shoulders so perfectly that it doesn’t take you too much longer than you anticipated to graft them onto the body. The second set of legs is easy after you got the hang of the arms.

Stepping back, the completed body looks better than you could have imagined when starting. The lines of the extra limbs flow seamlessly into the rest of the body. You couldn’t be prouder of how it looks, and now you just have to finish the cleanup and set up for the soon to be audience. Even though you won’t be around when they discover it, you still want to make sure people have a decent place to admire it.

You go to the bench your first volunteer as laying on. He’d had a rough day and was currently resting. Not wanting to disturb him, you gently try to clean away most of the paint he ended up covered in. He got a little messier than you’re used to but he’s also a lot more rough around the edges than your usual volunteers. You carefully set his limbs up on the bench so he’s more comfortable; you don’t want him to put unnecessary strain onto his body. Once that’s taken care of, you pack the rest of your supplies into your truck. There is a small lake next to the park that you decide to use to clean off the rest of the paint covering your body. You don’t want any of it to stain the inside of your truck; that would be a lot more work to clean it up later.

After you’re as clean as you’re going to get, you drive back to the motel you’ve been staying at. You don’t feel too bad about leaving your volunteers at the park. They had their own cars. This is the part where you get everything packed up and drift out of town like you were never there. By the time the sculpture is discovered no one will remember who you were, and your anonymous streak will continue.


Setting up in a new town, in a new country, you turn on the news to see your last sculpture had been discovered. The buzz on this one is the biggest yet. People are speechless and impressed by how well all the pieces fit together, and how perfectly it’s suspended between the bars of the swing set. Smiling, you reflect on the concerto you composed during the creation of that piece.

It was beautiful and heart breaking in how well the cries of your volunteers blended into the natural sounds of the wildlife surrounding you. Their gasping breaths as the life slowly faded out of them left you with chills, that you knew would just build up the suspense to the climax of your song. The buzzing of the saw thrummed through your veins as you removed the limbs from the shorter one. The cuts are made with a clean precision that has taken you years to master. His blood comes out faster and thicker than you’re normal volunteers. It paints everything a dark crimson that would look absolutely stunning on the main body.

Once you had the limbs, you had set him on the bench to rest until you need him again. The blood from his arms painted the main body perfectly as you attached them to here you needed them to be. It dripped down the torso in perfect rivulets. It was easier than you assumed it would be. The tricky part came with grafting to plush limbs onto the first volunteer. Fabric doesn’t blend as seamlessly into flesh as other flesh does. It took some careful arranging of clothes to cover the stitching so it wouldn’t be as conspicuous.

Once more the world was in awe of your art. No one could figure out how you did it, or who could be capable of such a masterpiece. You know you are now at the height of your career; everyone will be trying to figure out who you are. It was time to plan your biggest masterpiece; the greatest one to complete all you’ve accomplished. It will be your last major work, and then you’ll retire from the spotlight; leave them wanting more. Your greatest work will be your grand finale. With that in mind, you know you’re going to need a lot more volunteers to help you complete it. You think fifteen should work.

You turn off the tv; you have a masterpiece to plan.


Contributor: Amanda Moony Zober


The back room was empty. Amanda had brought everyone else over to her house to get started on the horror movie marathon. The mess wasn’t too bad and it didn’t take long for John and Peter to pick all the garbage up and toss it out. It was just a regular night and nothing too interesting happened. Neither knew how it went from cleaning to this. They couldn’t remember who started it or how it got so far. The haze of lust and need was clouding their thoughts and they didn’t very well care at the moment either. Not as long as they got more.

The cool green material of the pool table felt good against Peter’s heated flesh. His arms were falling asleep behind him but he couldn’t care less. Not as long as John’s lips kept trailing down his neck; licking, nipping and kissing every inch of skin he came across. His stubble lightly scratching at the sensitive skin. He couldn’t remember who found the handcuffs first or even how they got on him. The only thing the sixteen year old could focus on was the heavy weight on top of him and the near painful straining of his member inside his suddenly too tight shorts.

John lifted his lips from the younger’s neck after one last bite right behind Peter’s ear. Too high up to cover when it darkens. He stood up, resting his full weight back on the floor as he skimmed his fingers down the athlete’s sides, stopping as he reached the hem of his shirt. John pushed Peter’s shirt up to the younger’s armpits, lowering his head to swipe his tongue over one of the tiny buds on the toned chest. He brought one hand over to tease the other nipple, noting how quickly they hardened. Peter arched into the touch, john’s hot mouth sending tingles over his skin.

‘Sensitive? Isn’t he,’ John thought, ‘This is going to be fun.’

John pulled away from the sensitive nubs, instead trailing his tongue down Peter’s abdomen, giving harsh bites whenever the younger arched up. He was determined to leave no inch of that perfectly sculpted chest go unblemished by the time they were done. He wouldn’t be able to hide all of them. Everyone would know what happened. They may not know who, but they would know that Peter was off-limits, that someone had owned him and left their claim all over the taught body.

Peter bit his lip to hold in a gasp when he felt John’s tongue sliding hot and languid over the skin just above the hem of his shorts. He looked down with half lidded eyes, watching as John lifted his head to mouth at the button of the shorts. The two teens kept eye contact as John bit down on the button, using tongue and teeth to undo it. The track star squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as John used his teeth to tug the zipper down. Peter could feel John’s hot breath ghosting through the fabric of his boxers.

John used his hands and pulled the article fully off of Peter’s legs, tossing them onto the couch across the room. He leant back down, carefully mouthing his soon-to-be lover through the thin fabric of his boxers. Peter groaned, thrusting up towards the sensation. John quickly pinned Peter’s hips down to the table, preventing the younger from making much more movement. The older continued to mouth at the clothed erection for a few more minutes, until his own aching need was becoming to much to ignore.

He slowly lowered Peter’s boxers, watching the younger’s breath catch as the fabric teased against his hard length. Once they were totally off, he threw them across the room as well. He kneeled down and faced the weeping cock in front of him. He experimentally flicked his tongue out and swiped it across the head, tasting the bit of pre-cum that had gathered there.

The taste wasn’t as bad as what John was expecting. The little noises Peter was making encouraged him on further. Slowly the older teen closed his mouth over the head, sucking slightly. He used each little gasp and moan his friend let out to cue his next move. He breathed through his nose and took a little bit more in, tongue swiping against the pulsating vein on the underside of the cock in his mouth.

Peter’s eyes were screwed shut, unable to focus on anything except the hot, hot, hot moist mouth covering his penis. It was almost too much for him to bare. He was so close, but it wasn’t enough. His lolled to the side as he felt John take more of his length in.

Hearing Peter’s little noises was starting to get to be too much fro John. The theater boy pulled off of the shaft, noting the groan of displeasure coming from his partner. He took a deep breath before swallowing the length whole. He stopped when his nose pressed against the dark, course hair at the base of Peter’s cock. John’s eyes teared up as he tried to relax his throat. He could hear Peter try to choke back a surprised moan. After a few seconds John swallowed, the muscles of his throat spasming against the thick member.

Peter’s fingers clenched behind his back, wanting to hold onto something, anything, but not being able to. The handcuffs were biting into his skin, rubbing them raw and red, but he didn’t care. All he wanted at that moment was more of his friend’s mouth, more of the pleasure. He could feel the heat coiling low in his gut. He was getting close, oh so close, but not there yet. He tried to buck up, but John’s hands kept him pinned.

Slowly John started to bob his head, picking up a rhythm, swiping his tongue over the slit every time he almost pulls all the way off before going back down and swallowing the entire length. He hollowed his cheeks and hummed and he made his way down the shaft, teasing Peter to his completion.

John could tell Peter was close. He moved one of his hands that was pinning Peter’s hips down to tease the younger balls. The added stimulation was all it took before Peter was cumming hard. John barely had time to pull back before rope after rope of ejaculate shot out, covering Peter’s stomach.

John stood up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it towards Peter’s discarded clothing. He looked down at the panting teen. He looked spent, but they hadn’t even started yet. Now it was John’s turn. He swiped his fingers in the cooling cum on Peter’s stomach and coated his fingers in the viscous substance before trailing them over the over-sensitized penis, past the perineum, and towards his goal.

John heard the barely audible mewl as his index finger breached the tight ring of muscle. It was tight and oh so hot inside of the younger teen. John wanted to take this slow and thoroughly prep his friend, but the straining in his own pants was starting to become unbearable. He quickly pumped his finger in and out, crooking it in just the right way that had had Peter’s dick twitch. He pressed on the bundle a few more times before adding a second finger into the mix.

Peter wriggled at the feeling of the two fingers moving inside of him, scissoring and spreading him open. He could feel the stirrings of arousal starting to take over already. He thanked God for his teenage libido. He moaned and pushed back down as John brushed against his prostate again. It felt like white hot lightening shooting up his spine every time it was pressed against. The feeling was so intense that he barely noticed his partner adding a third finger into his virgin entrance.

John could barely contain himself as he watched Peter continuously impale himself on John’s fingers. He watched as his digits kept getting swallowed up by Peter’s greedy hole. It was almost enough to make him cum right them and there. He pulled his fingers out, smirking at the whimper of protest Peter let out. It was empowering seeing his usually so dominating, in control friend entirely at his mercy, practically begging for his cock to pound into Peter’s tight little ass. To claim him in the most primal of ways. At that moment Jon wanted nothing more than to take Peter hard enough to keep him from walking for a week. He wanted Peter to still feel him for days after this; for the younger to never forget who fucked him until he couldn’t even remember his own name.


Marc was walking back to the fire house, having been sent to see what was taking the other two so long to clean up. Amanda wanted to make sure that they weren’t getting themselves into any trouble, but she couldn’t leave everyone at her house without her so she had Marc go to check in on them.

The seventeen year old opened the back door to the firehouse. As soon as he stepped inside he could make out odd noises coming from the back room. Quietly he walked over and peaked through to doorway to see what was going on.

He had to cover his mouth in surprise at the scene that he saw. He couldn’t believe it. There in the middle of the room, John was, on his knees, and servicing Peter. He wanted so badly to look away but he just couldn’t bring himself to. It was like watching a train wreck, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the impending disaster.

His face grew hotter as the little noises Peter was making started to get to him. He could feel his own member start to stir with interest the longer he watched his two friends in their private moment. He felt so dirty for watching, but it was too good to turn away from. He lowered one of his hands to lightly palm himself through his jeans, the other still covering his mouth, trying to stifle any noises he’d make. He didn’t want the other two to catch him. He wasn’t sure where it was because of the impending embarrassment that would occur were they to figure out that they were caught or because it would end the show.


John quickly undid his pants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough to free his own erection. He climbed up onto the pool table, sliding Peter further onto the table. He leaned down and captured Peter’s lips in a searing, bruising kiss. He situated himself in between Peter’s legs, using one hand to prop himself up, and the other to line his cock up to Peter’s loosened entrance.

In the back of his head, John knew that he should be using some type of lube to make the penetration easier on Peter, but he was too far gone to care at that point. Slowly he started to ease himself in. He moaned deep in his chest as the velvety tight heat clamped down around him. Involuntarily, his hips bucked forward, pushing more of himself inside of the younger. He could feel Peter tense up around him.

Peter was dizzy with the pleasure and pain of it all. The fingers felt so good, but this was so much bigger than three fingers. He could feel himself stretching around John’s length, trying to adjust to something of this size being there. It felt like he was being split in two. It hurt, the searing pain shooting up his spine nd making his eyes water, but oh how he wanted more of it.

John could feel Peter’s insides clench down on him, trying to get accustomed to his girth. As much as he didn’t want to hurt Peter, he couldn’t fight back his instincts. In one hard thrust, John slammed the rest of his length into Peter’s tight channel. When he was fully sheathed, John stopped to catch his breath. Peter was so tight and hot, clenching down around him in a vice like grip. He looked down at Peter and saw his lover’s face scrunched up in pain. Reaching one hand down, John started to jerk Peter’s penis to distract him from the pain. He pumped the member several times before he could feel it harden within his palm. Carefully he started to pull out.

Peter bit his lip as he felt John bottom out within him. It was strange to feel something inside of him. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before, but at the same time it felt so right. He couldn’t help the spark of pleasure that sparked through him as he felt John’s dick twitch and pulse inside of him. He tried to keep quiet as John slowly pumped his member to full hardness once more. He moaned as John started to pull out, the friction of his bare dick tugging against the red and abused skin of his stretched anus.


Marc continued to watch as John penetrated Peter. He didn’t know when but one of his hands had slipped inside of his pants and boxers. He was quickly stroking himself, thumb sliding over his slip, smearing precum over the head. He didn’t want to get caught by the two of them and was hoping to be finished before they were.

He could hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears and the gasps and moans that Peter was making. A part of him wanted to walk in there and join them, but he would have no idea what to do if he did that. It was safer for him to stay hidden and just watch as it all played out in front of him like his own personal porno.


John started to pull out until only the tip remained before slamming back in. He set the pace fast and hard, wanting to see how hard he could push the younger before Peter was a sobbing mess under him, begging to cum. He bent his head down and on a particularly hard thrust, he bit down, causing Peter to cry out as John broke skin.

It was almost too much for him. John was hitting his prostate dead on while pumping him in time with his brutal thrusts, Peter didn’t know how much longer he could last for. His vision was swimming, and every nerve felt like it was on fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch, but the damn handcuffs wouldn’t let him. He tried to thrust back onto John’s dick every time the older thrust back in. He beginning to become delirious from the pleasure of it all.


Marc reached his completion as he saw Peter lose all control underneath John. The sight of Peter, wanton and begging for it was enough to drive Marc over the edge, his semen hitting the wall in front of him. As he was catching his breath from the mind numbing orgasm, he continued to watch as his friends fucked on the pool table.

Looking around quickly, he tucked himself back into his pants and redid them just in case Amanda sent someone else over here to check on everything.


John licked and nibbled on the spot he bit over and over as he continued to thrust into Peter’s willing and eager body. The noises and incoherent babble pouring out of Peter’s mouth was enough to spur John into picking up the stroke of his hand against the younger’s member. Peter’s precum, slicking John’s hand, making it easier to slide over the shaft. He was determined to make the younger cum first. He wanted Peter to remember that it was John who made him cum twice before John even came once. He wanted Peter to Remember who it was that dicked his so good that he would be ruined for anyone else after this.

“Y-you close?”

All Peter could manage was a jerky nod in response.

“Wanna cum?”

Another nod.

“Then say it. T-tell me what y0you want.”

Peter opened his mouth but instead of words, all he could let out were little moans of pleasure. He tried again to answer John.

“Ah..ah.hah..W-ant t-t-to c-cum!”

John bit down on Peter’s neck again as he moved to hand that was jerking Peter to cup the younger teen’s balls. Peter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as unadulterated pleasure ripped through his body, making his tors curl and his vision to turn white.

Peter’s second orgasm covered both his and John’s chest as he clamped down on John’s member while riding out the last waves of pleasure. The feeling of Peter’s orgasm clamping down around him brought John to the edge. It only took a few more thrusts before he was cumming hard and deep inside of Peter, filling him with his essence.


Marc waited until John had pulled out of Peter and pulled up his pants before walking backwards and loudly opening the back door. He walked back over to the back room. As he walked in, he took in the deer-in-the-headlights look the other two were giving him. He wanted to laugh, but instead just shook his head.

“I don’t want to know. Amanda was getting worried and sent me over here to check up on you two. Get dressed and let’s hurry over. They already started the movies.”

John walked over to where he through his and Peter’s clothes. He pulled his shirt back over his head before going over to Peter and Helping him get his pants and boxers back on. The younger was laying boneless on the table. John chuckled and helped Peter to stand up. It only took a second before Peter was falling into John’s chest, barely able to stand, his legs were too unsteady.

“Need me to piggy back you?” John teased his lover.

“Just shut up and unhand cuff me.”

John laughed at Peter before going to where he found the handcuffs.

“Hey Marc?”

The secret voyeur turned to look at John.


“Could you go get Amanda?”

“Um, why?”

“I don’t know where the keys to the cuffs are.”