#109
When the doorbell rings, the hero’s kind of hoping it’s the pizza delivery guy.
They open the door to find, tragically, not the pizza delivery guy.
“Uh,” the villain says, “hi.”
The hero isn’t entirely sure what sequence of words would best fit this scenario. “Hi?” is the best they can do.
The villain shuffles on their feet awkwardly. A pause hangs between them, filled by the distant roar of the city beyond. “I thought you’d ask why I’m here,” they say eventually.
“I’m more concerned about how you’re here.”
A smile threatens the corners of the villain’s mouth. “We know where all you heroes live.” The smile fades into nothing again. “Or just I know, now, I guess.”
“Okay.” The hero squints at the villain uncertainly. “I’ll entertain you. Why the hell are you standing outside my door?”
“No one wants to be a villain anymore. Everyone quit.” The villain’s face contorts into some unreadable expression. “It’s just me.”
That doesn’t sound right. From the villain’s slight grimace, they know it too. “Everyone… quit villainy,” the hero repeats.
“There’s nothing to gain from it anymore. We had a vote and I was the only one who wanted to keep going.” The villain’s gaze dips to their hands as if they hold answers. “They left me everything, but… I can’t do it all on my own. So I’m turning myself in.”
The hero stares at the villain for a long moment. “Even [Supervillain].”
“Especially [Supervillain].”
The hero steps aside with a sigh. The villain looks like they’re being invited into a pit of wolves. “You want me to come into your house?”
“My handcuffs are in my living room cabinet and I don’t trust you standing out there. It’s cold, anyway.”
The villain closes the door behind them in an uncharacteristic show of politeness as the hero digs through their drawers. They’re wiping their shoes on the mat when the hero gets back, cuffs in hand.
The villain holds their hands out and the hero clicks the cuffs around their wrists. It’s almost too easy. The question is sitting on the tip of their tongue.
“What’s the catch?”
The villain doesn’t seem surprised by the question. They shrug halfheartedly. “Dunno.” They glance about for inspiration. “All the others have gone into hiding, I guess. You have me, but everyone else will probably evade you for the rest of time.”
“Much like they already do.” The hero manoeuvres them to the sofa in the living room, giving them a nudge to make them actually sit down. “You make it sound like you’ve been left in charge of the entire criminal organisation.”
The barking laugh the villain lets out is entirely fake. Too sharp, too short. “I have.”
“So villany will collapse without you.”
The villain shrugs again, the motion laden with effort. “Not like anyone else was willing to carry that burden—and I’m not either, hence why I’m, y’know…” They gesture vaguely at themself, in cuffs, in the hero’s living room.
The villain goes, villainy is defeated. No more villains, no more big crimes, no more heroes. Everything the agency has worked to be would collapse. The hero would be out of a job. It'd be over.
Yet here the villain is, giving everything up, taking the entirety of villainy down with them. The sole survivor of a shipwreck and wishing they’d gone down with the ship. A ship they don’t seem to realise the hero is on too.
The doorbell rings again, and the hero leaves the villain carefully settling on the sofa to answer it. They return with a giant grin on their face and a giant pizza box in their hands.
“Let’s worry about all this afterwards,” the hero says brightly. They brandish the box at the villain in the hopes of tempting them. “Want some?”
The tempting works; the villain reaches for a slice. “What a last meal.”
The hero sets the box on the coffee table as they flop back on the sofa. “I don’t know, [Villain],” they say with a smile, “I don’t think it has to be.”
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Solarpunk and the Third Place
Let's talk about third places. It is a topic that has been brought up in a lot of Solarpunk and leftwing places have brought up during the last few months. Andrewism has made a video on it for example. And given that during the last few weeks I actually made a lot of use of third places, I thought I also could talk a bit more about it.
See, I have spoken about this: Due to my roommate just being very hard to live with right now, I kinda fled my home. (Which yes, is due to her mental health, but that does not make it any better for me.) And basically I just looked into: Where the hell could I spend my time?
And then I remembered the thing that I did throughout my youth: Hang out at gaming stores and, well, play games. I did that a lot for so long, given it is often a place for nerds to gather. And yeah, what can I say? It still works.
Heck, I found even someone who plays Digimon Cards with me.
But of course we do know - again it has been discussed a lot - that in recent times a lot of third places have either been erased, or the way we live have stopped the third places to work the way they used to work like this.
Let's quickly go over what a third place is: A third place is a place where you can hang out and get to know people. A place distinct from the place you live and the place you work in (or school, for students). Stuff like a park, a café, a library... things like that. Places that encourage you to interact with new people and start conversations.
Recently those places have been destroyed a lot. Partly because a lot of them have become hard to afford (especially on a regular basis), partly because they have become shut down, and partly because our culture actually does no longer encourage interacting with strangers.
And, I mean. Yeah. Parks are counted among third places, but honestly, I cannot remember that I actually interacted with a stranger in a park. If a stranger talks to me, I am afraid they are a creep. And if I see someone I think I could get along with, I do not dare to talk to them.
The fact that most of us run around glued to our electric devices (I am counting myself there as well) does not help this fact, right? If I am sitting in a café, I am usually working on my laptop, which will make it less likely that folks interact with me. And, of course, my autistic self will also not do that in turn.
Solarpunk both as a genre and a vision for the future is very much build around the idea of community and working together as a community. And for that we need third places in Solarpunk futures. Places that are easily accessible and that people can just go to to talk to people.
But more than that, Solarpunk also needs a society and social rules that actually allow for folks to interact with each other, talk to each other and ask each other for help and stuff.
Sure, there also need to be safe and silent spaces for people with needs like that (including autistic folks like me). And really... Frankly, I would not know how to talk with someone outside a nerd context, lol.
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RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader
sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.
warnings. injury, intoxication, makeouts, smut!mdni (in future chapters!)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)
a/n. haii! thanks for tuning in for the second chapter :) hope you like this so far! not proofread — let me know if there’s any mistakes!
tag list: @lovra974 , @gold24fish, @bkgirl, @bigsimpo343 , @missyaess
“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”
…
here he was, dynamight himself, standing in-front of my front door with blood pooling his shirt.
i sputter. what do i even say in this situation? my boss was at my front door, looking intoxicated and like he was near to death.
“sir?” i say in nearly a whisper, “what.. what are you doing here?”
he groaned, and i couldn’t tell if it was from pain or not. “stop.. stop calling me that.” he huffs, clutching the doorframe harder, the wood sizzling.
“sorry—“ i catch myself, “um, dynamight.”
“don’t call me that shit either.” he stares me in the eye as he says, “just.. just call me katsuki. ‘don’t care.”
i meekly nod. we’re on a first name basis now?
not wanting my doorframe to burn off, i take his hand off my doorframe and sling his arm around my shoulders. when he leans his weight onto me, i nearly collapse but manage to keep myself composed.
to think we were just talking about him merely a few hours ago, and now he’s here, as if we summoned him like some sort of demon.
.. well, demon isn’t too far off.
i shut the door behind me, katsuki’s feet stumbling as i try to lead him towards the bathroom where i kept my medical aid.
i guess my year trying to be a nurse is paying off before i switched majors, as i still have the supplies and knowledge i gained from it.
“what the hell happened?” i ask, voice low as to not wake my un-suspecting roommate.
“ts’ guy at a bar, nggh!” he hisses as we drop a step, his hand unintentionally pushing farther into his wound. i mutter an apology.
he’s breathing heavily, like he’s gasping for air. i can feel his biceps clench with every walk we take, his sharp exhale at every step he as to walk on his left-injured side.
clearing my throat, i prompt, “guy at a bar?”
“had a.. a fuckin mouth onim’.” he says heavily, “put that pussy in his place.”
if dynamight is this bad.. i wonder how the guy he was fighting was looking like right now.
“as your assistant.. fuck you for causing another scene.” i say, kicking open the bathroom door, “as your temporary.. friend, good for you.”
i cringe at the word friend. friend seems weird — off.
“good for me, my ass.” he hisses as i place him against the counter, pushing his torso to tell him to sit.
he does.
the reality of the situations continues to dawn on me; my boss is in my house, in my proximity that i live in everyday. i shower in this very bathroom. it felt.. weird.
i clear my throat, trying to ignore the butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach.
“katsuki,” i test, the name unfamiliar on my tongue, “take off your shirt.” from my peripheral vision, i can see him smirk. i send a look his way, face flushing in embarrassment.
“not like.. like that.” i stutter, “‘just take off your damn shirt.”
he stares at me, blinks, then tuts his tongue and says—“yes, ma’am.”—weak, shaken hands gripping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one clean move.
it both irritates me and confuses me how simply he had done it.
he drops it in the floor, too weak to care where he put it—conveniently on my brand new white bathmat.
i try to ignore how it irritates me.
“i’ll buy you.. a new one.” he breathes, falling back against the marble wall, touching a hand to the wound on his stomach and hissing a breath through his teeth.
i rummage through the drawer of supplies, purposefully avoiding looking his way out of respect — and for my own sanity.
luckily, sutures was the unit we last worked on before i switched majors, meaning the information was still fairly fresh in my mind.
taking a step closer to the hero, i smell a waft of alcohol seep off of his skin. whiskey, no doubt.
i clear my throat. “i didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.” i say, hoping to clear some of the overwhelming awkwardness.
he grimaces when i touch an alcohol pad around the wound, cleaning the dried blood surrounding the cut.
“i’m any typa’ guy on the right occasion.” he gives a toothy grin as he says this, abs flexing from my touch.
i blink. finally meeting his eyes, i realize just how close our bodies were, my hands on his torso, standing between his legs as he sits on the counter.
i knew he was supposed to be fit considering his work involved constantly pushing his body to the brink, but man.
he was toned, abs chiseled, biceps molded and flexing with every touch to his wound. his body resembled that of a god, and even if his body was bruised and broken it still looked perfect.
his eyes are piercing, ruby-bright red paired with a shiny, toothy grin placed between his lips.
“whatcha starin’ at, hm?” he slurs. i can feel the breathe from his lips.
my eyes flick away. i murmur a, “..nothing”, clearing my throat and picking up the needle to suture the wound. "so.. what happened for you to get this wound?"
"you're really beautiful, y'know that?" katsuki breathes, eyes scanning over my face.
"what?" i flush, momentarily freezing.
he chuckles, the scent of alcohol seeping over my face as he breathes out, "everyday, when you show up in those outfits ya got.. drives me insane.."
i am unsure what to do. staring into katsuki's eyes, i can see he's totally out of it; he doesn't mean any of this, it's just the alcohol talking!
.. then again, drunk words are sober thoughts.
i scoff, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as i rip my gaze away. "you're drunk, katsuki," slowly, i am getting used to the name, "you're just talking nonesense."
"i'd never lie t' a pretty girl like you." he says, leaning closer, dangerously close. "anyone ever tell ya you got the most beautiful eyes?"
he reaches a hand toward me, tipping my chin up to look at him, rough and calloused hands scraping against the skin across my jaw.
suddenly, the room is too hot, his touch is too hot and i can feel myself slowly going insane. i find myself wanting more, more, his hands all over--
no! what the hell am i saying, he's drunk, and unlike himself. once he sobers up, he'll realize how stupid his words were.
but oh, his touch was addicting.
"katsuki.." i whisper, feeling his hand slowly move across my collarbone. he leans toward me, his lips resting over my ear, his breath on my skin flowing down my neck. so warm, so soothing.
"y'know, everyday when you show up in them' jeans ya wear.." he inhales, the sound loud in my ear, "makes me so fucking turned on."
i take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, trying to resist; he wouldn't want this, not if he were sober.
i swallow, "katsuki." i say with more certainty.
"mm, say that again." he rasps, kissing just below my ear with such gentleness i am surprised. his lips are hot, wet, his tongue dragging softly over my skin. i feel my body heat up, having to lean against the counter because i was afraid my legs would give out.
resist. resist, all you have to do is push away.
"you.. you wouldn't want this if you were sober." i huff, my face a bright, hot pink of fluster.
a chuckle comes from his chest, "this is all i want when i'm sober. all i can think 'bout, girl."
he pulls away from my neck, and i sigh in relief before opening my eyes to see him right in-front of me. his hand grabs my chin, slanting my head to the side, waiting painfully close as if to wait for me to make the first move.
and i know it's bad. the cliche of bosses sleeping with their assistants always irked me, and considering i was an assistant for dynamight i never considered he would ever sleep with me.
but now... if what he is saying is true, my predictions were nothing but the complete opposite.
and all i can think is: well, fuck, as i crash my lips against his. his mouth is hot, fiery, just as i assumed it to be. his tongue instantly pushes against mine, teeth grazing each other as our lips meet in a hasty battle.
tongues dancing against each other, i am instantly overwhelmed. kissing has never been this sweet, this passionate with my previous partners. a raw, thick naturalness comes between katsuki and i, as if being this close to one another was simply fate.
"this is.. bad--!" i mutter between the breathes we are forced to take, his hand instead finding my hips and pulling me against the counter. i am forced to stand on my tippy-toes as his other hand finds my hair, grasping it as if to hold him to reality.
i understand that much. i feel like if it weren't for his grasp on my skin, i would simply be in a dream instead of this being a reality.
and if this is a dream, i don't think i want to ever wake up.
i bring a hand up to his torso, my hand accidentally grazing over his wound. he groans into my lips, hand clutching my hair even tighter, yet he doesnt stop his assault to dominate my mouth.
i gasp. he's wounded! what am i thinking?!
gathering all the restraint in my body, i push away from him, my back slamming into the wall behind me. i finally take a breath, heavy pants leaving my mouth as i stare at him.
a groan of frustration leaves his lips, his back falling against the wall. it seemed the dopamine had allowed the affect of the wound to become nothing more than a little thorn in his side, but now that it had run out the pain started coming back.
"please.." katsuki whispers, "'feels better when yer kissing me.."
then, there's a knock on the door.
"y/n? is everything alright in there?" mina's voice comes from outside the door.
i look between katsuki and the door, seeing his love-drunk eyes and his current state; anyone with eyes could see he was aroused, not to mention the prominent boner tenting his pants.
"uh—“ i say, "yeah I’m—i'm okay." i say back, clearing my throat, "jus' go back to bed, mina."
"you sure..? you're talking kinda weird, i'm just gonna come in—“
"no!' i panic, before realizing my tone was still suspicious.
"that' the acid freak from school?" katsuki's brows furrow, "what's that brat doin' here?"
"who's that?!" mina calls from outside the door, "wait.. thats—!"
"OKAY!" i yell in frustration, "i'm opening the door!"
i slowly crack open the door, quickly closing it behind me and leaving katsuki in the bathroom.
mina’s eyes are wide. “what. the fuck. is katsuki bakugo doing in our apartment at three in the morning?!”
i sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, “i don’t know. he just.. he just came to the front door, injured.”
“so.. bring him to the hospital!” mina says in a duh tone.
“how do you think it’d look if his assistant was with him at three in the morning?” i say in a whisper-yell, “look, it’s just a simple cut. i can suture it up, and he’ll be fine by the morning.”
she shifts on her feet, uneasy. “okay. but it still feels weird.”
i run a hand over my face, “yeah, i know. it is weird.”
she eyes me, her head slanting ever so slightly. “are you alright? you look all… flustered..” then, her eyes widen as if in a realization, “wait—!”
before she can speak, i cut her off. “okayimleavingnowbye!” i sputter, rushing toward the bathroom and closing it behind me.
i inhale a deep breath, face flushing at the idea of being caught making out with my boss.
“how about you uh.. do me a favour and stitch me up now, huh, princess?” katsuki smiles as he says this.
i turn to him. “don’t call me that.”
“uh-huh.”
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i’m interested to see how joel would react to doc getting killed!! or bitten…. i love the angst tbh! 😅 maybe during that awkward time period where they weren’t really talking but still hooking up.. they still loved eachother so much couldn’t say it because they “hated” eachother 😮
OMG Hi Bestie!
OK so because I'm a masochist (who shares in this fun hobby of tormenting myself with images of pain with someone who shall remain nameless) I've thought about this a lot. Shared below, with permission, is some of the noodling I've done on this topic with the aforementioned anonymous person who likes to give me INCREDIBLY ANGSTY AND DEPRESSING THOUGHT EXERCISES I SWEAR THIS IS A TWO WAY STREET Y'ALL. Please note that none of this is in story format and Doc is she instead of you because that's how I think about the fic in abstract terms? I guess? I don't know lol it's a mess in my head.
ANYWAY
Putting this below the cut because it's probably a step beyond angst. I cannot stress enough that this is like... super depressing and also COMPLETELY RAW AND UNEDITED, all I did was pull out comments/prompts from the other person out of respect for them. So please limit your judgement as much as possible this stuff is real bad lol
Below is Joel if she got bit on the Harvard run.
how terrified he was when he thought she might be bitten, how the first place his mind went was "I can kill her and I'll only need to be around for a few seconds after she's gone"If she got bit and he needed to kill her, he'd try so hard to keep it together for her.
She'd be low key panicking and be like "Please don't let me turn into one of those things, please just kill me, please" and he'd just brush her hair back and hold her face in his hand all gentle and be like "I won't baby, not gonna let you go through that, OK? I've got you, it's OK. It'll be real quick, won't feel a thing and I'll be right behind you, OK? I'm right behind you, it's OK"
and he'd hold her when he did it so she didn't feel alone and he'd keep holding her when he did it to himself, too
If Doc died in the tub the night that Joel left her in the QZ
Joel is trying to avoid herTommy goes to the clinic that day and she's not there, which he expects because she's not supposed to be there on Sundays, but hears someone say her name and how they aren't sure how they're going to cover everything without her and there's a "...I still really miss her" at the end and he's like "wtf'
and so he asks until he finds someone who will actually talk to him and he's like "no, we're old friends, I just haven't seen her in a few weeks, what happened?" and Marta just kinda looks at him like "how can you not know this" and says "She died. They weren't really sure how, if she did it on purpose or if she passed out but she drowned in her bathtub"
and Tommy is, of course, reeling because he loved her, too. But he's also like "Oh fuck I have to tell Joel"
and he's kind of in a daze and just walks around the QZ for a few hours and he gets home and Joel is just like "the fuck is your problem" and he's like "Joel... brother, you... I need you to sit down, OK? Need you to just... stay calm for me, OK?"
and he says her name and then kinda stops and Joel gets this bad feeling and is like "what" and Tommy is quiet and he's like "what, Tommy. What is it. She fuck up something else, what'd she do, what's going on" and he's just like "She's dead, Joel."
and Joel is silent for a minute and then asks what happened and how and Tommy really doesn't want to tell Joel what they told him and so Joel just gets up and Tommy tries to stop him and he's like "Don't fucking touch me" and he goes to Andrew's
and he pounds on the door until Andrew answers and Andrew looks like hell, he's lost weight and he looks like he's hardly slept and he looks kind of dead in the eyes until he sees Joel and then he just looks like he wants to just set him on fire and he's like "The fuck are you doing here"
and Joel is like "what happened, you have to know what happened, please, fuck, please tell me what happened to her" and Andrew shoves him and just yells "You! You happened, you fucking happened! She died that night you fucking asshole, she lived for you and she fucking died for you, too. I hope you're fucking happy"
and Joel is just practically frozen there and just lets Andrew wail on him for a minute before he looks at him and goes "you must fuckin hate me, right?" "Oh I more than hate you you fucking..." "Good. Kill me. Don't... don't care how just... please, fuck just..." and Andrew just kind of laughs at him darkly and says "No, no I'm not doing you any fucking favors, Miller. I have to live with the fact that I left her alone that night. You get to live with the fact that her blood's on your hands."
Jess pulls Andrew back inside and Joel just trudges home but Tommy is kind of waiting for him, he's already stashed all the guns and the knives and he got Tess because he knows what Joel is like when he loses someone like thatand Joel only asked Andrew to do it because he couldn't risk flinching again, he had to do it right this time and he goes for where he keeps his gun as soon as he's in the door and it's gone and Tommy is just crying and he's like "Joel, you can't, I'm sorry..." and he's like "Just give me the fuckin' gun, Tommy! I can't do this, not again, I can't, I can't" and he just drops to his knees and Tommy holds onto him
Tommy and Tess take turns, he's literally never alone for months. Eventually they think he can be trusted on his own and he's OK for a while but I think it wouldn't take all that long before he's gone, too
it wouldn't be as obvious as a gun, it'd be him making a stupid mistake and getting bit or shot or an accident on a job in the qzand all the time in between he'd be such a shell of himself, Tess and Tommy always sharing a look when it's especially bad like "this has to get better at some point, right?"and when it eventually happens, neither Tess or Tommy are ever sure if it's really an accident or not. Joel wasn't really sure either, he just knew that the last thing he thought of was that last morning before Doc flew back to New York where he got her pregnant in the water and her and Sarah made French toast
SO YEAH that's just the most depressing shit in the world lol
LOVE YOU!!
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