#and now most video game rendering of people make we want to avert my eyes

[gillianthecat]

sometimes i see a post going around that makes me think, wow my taste is really different from the general consensus "tumblr taste"

[mockingjayne12]

Beyond - Chapter 10

(Lyatt / Timeless Fic)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

“Hey, can you hand me…” Wyatt sticks his hand out from underneath her car, and she pauses, mid-bite, her mouth full of the burrito she’d just bitten into.

“You’re eating aren’t you?” He calls out, and she quickly tries to chew, before giving up and just answering.

“No,” she says, but the word comes out garbled with her full mouth.

Sliding out from underneath the car, his shirt clings to every muscle, particularly his arms, accentuating their girth.

“I thought you were going to wait until I finished, you know, doing you a favor and changing your oil,” he claims, trying to use a stern voice, but cracks at the end into a laugh.

Quickly swallowing, she licks her lips, claiming it was for the crumbs lingering, but in truth an involuntary reaction to the attractively disheveled man in front of her.

“I didn’t ask, you volunteered,” she raises a brow, daring him to disagree with her.  It was the only time they knew her mom would be away from the house.

Grabbing the beer sitting in the driveway, he takes a swig, before pushing his hair back.

“Next time, extra cilantro on your burrito,” he points with his bottle, and she scrunches her face.

“You wouldn’t,” she narrows he eyes teasingly.

“You’re right, I’d never hear the end of it,” he shrugs, until she holds out her burrito to him, and he takes a bite, before shaking his head back in forth in contemplation.

“Mine’s better,” he goads with a dimpled grin.

“They could barely close yours.  One bite and it’s going to spill right onto your lap,” she jokes, right as her phone rings.

“Don’t mock the perfection of my burrito,” he jokes, before grabbing what he needed and heading back underneath the car.

Rolling her eyes at him as she answers, she expect to be called into work when she saw Agent Christopher’s name pop up.

She’s surprised to find that’s not the case after hanging up.  Kneeling down by her car, her hand lightly lands on Wyatt’s knee, trying not to scare him into hitting his head.

“So how do you feel about coming to dinner with me at Agent Christopher’s tonight?”

xxxxx

“Ugh, I don’t get it,” Amy says, groaning loudly.  “Can’t we order pizza already?  I have to leave soon,” she huffs at Lucy.

“This is supposed to be fun,” Lucy laughs, standing on a ladder, a near feat in itself that she hadn’t lost her balance.  The two of them had been decorating the house since getting home from school.  They were officially on winter break.  And after having gone out of town for Thanksgiving, she was looking forward to an open schedule the next few weeks of nothing but spending time with her sister and her boyfriend.

“I check them and then they go out as soon as I put them up,” Amy says, matter of factly, and Lucy bites her lip to keep from laughing at her younger sister.  “Why can’t we just toss them up like normal people?”

“Because we want them to look good?” Lucy tries, placing each strand perfectly spaced as she winds them around the tree.

“But why can’t we use the colored lights?  It looks so much better than the white,” she continues to argue.

“She’s got a point,” Lucy hears, whipping around quickly, nearly tumbling off the ladder, before catching her balance, but losing the Santa hat she was wearing.  The red garment falling to the floor.

xxxxx

Lucy wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward dinners.  She’d become an expert on them over the years with her mother.  But tonight felt different.

Quietly, she eats her food, making sure to chew each bite for as long as she could before swallowing.  The dark eyes of Agent Christopher seemingly watching her every move from across the table.

Quickly averting her eyes, she goes back to cutting into her chicken.  She wasn’t even really that hungry, having just eaten a little while ago, but it keeps her distracted, so she shoves another piece into her mouth.

“How are they?” Agent Christopher asks, her wife walking back into the room.

“Olivia’s conked out, and I just busted Mark for playing that crazy violent video game again,” a knowing tilt of the woman’s head suggesting there wasn’t much she could do.

“Thank you for having us,” Lucy chides in.  “A home cooked meal is a rare and exotic thing in my life these days,” she admits with a smile.

Wyatt nearly snorts with laughter, and she moves to kick him underneath the table, her leg just missing, having been too short to reach him.

Lucy shoots him a look, and he doesn’t even have the decency to wipe the grin off his face.

“Believe me, it was my pleasure,” she laments, and Lucy’s eyes shift back over to Wyatt, the glint of curiosity refusing to leave from his smirk.  “So how long have you two been together?”

A sharp cough shoots out of Lucy’s mouth, choking on her chicken at the question.  Wyatt’s hands come to rest on his chin, waiting for her answer, amusement playing on his lips.

“We’re not…we’re not…together.  We’re just…colleagues,” Lucy clarifies.  For a brief second, she swears she can see the hope falter in Wyatt’s eyes, but just as quickly they recover, landing on Michelle with a raised brow.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just…I assumed…”

Lucy waves her hand nervously, not wanting to embarrass the woman.  

“So you’re a professor?”  She asks, the curiosity of her guests spoken in awkwardness to them with a change of subject.

“The history and anthropology of American political movements,” Lucy proudly admits with a sway of her head, like it was a burden of sorts, tucking her hands into her lap.

“She writes books on them too,” Wyatt throws out with another bite of his food, a proud grin on his face leaving Lucy to heavily sigh.

A knowing smile seems to pass over Michelle’s face.

“Well, that alone makes you the most interesting colleague of Denise’s I’ve ever met,” she admits with a laugh.  Wyatt soon joining in.  “You two are also the only colleagues I’ve ever met.”

“Ignore her.  She’s teasing me,” Agent Christopher jokes, the first smile she’d seen from the woman…ever, maybe.  She was always so serious whenever they were on missions.  It was different to see her in a setting like this - comfortable, laid back, wife and kids.

“I know how that goes,” she not so subtly gestures towards Wyatt.

“Seventeen years, nada,” she goes on, the tone teasing with an underlying tension, the type that only secrets between significant others could spark.  Lucy also knew how that went.

“Michelle,” Denise nervously teases, taking a sip of her wine.

“Hey, I don’t ask questions.  And knowing what she does, I don’t want to ask.  But out of the blue, it’s ‘Make the mustard chicken, Lucy Preston’s coming over.’”

Picking up her wine glass, she swirls the liquid around, a quirk in her smile.

“To be honest, it came as a shock to me, as well,” she shyly admits, sending Michelle’s glance towards Denise.

“Hence me here,” Wyatt says, breaking the tension, downing his own drink.

xxxxx

Rushing over, Wyatt picks up her hat, grabbing onto her arm to steady her.

“You okay?” He asks, checking over her, and Lucy can feel her cheeks heat with a blush, following his blue eyes with her own as they flutter over her.

She nods, not making a sound, just a goofy grin on her face.

He carefully places the hat back on her head, his fingers never refusing a moment to get lost her curls.

“But more importantly, Wyatt agrees with me,” Amy chides in, causing Lucy’s lip to once again be tucked between her teeth, breaking the moment.

She raises a brow, waiting for his answer.

“I mean…they both…look nice,” he tries.

“Nice save,” Lucy says, turning back to the tree.

“What color do you put up?” Amy asks, and when they’re met with silence, she turns back to find Wyatt staring down at the floor, almost like the question had rendered him frozen.

“Hello, Wyatt,” Amy chides, tossing a piece of garland at his face, shaking him out of his reverie.

“My mom always liked the colored ones,” he whispers.  “But white’s good too, looks like snow.”

“I guess,” Amy concedes, causing Wyatt to smile, but Lucy continues staring at him, having never mentioned his mom before, she finds herself curious, but knowing his family is always a topic he tends to avoid, she decides to let it go.

“So pizza?”

xxxxx

The water runs, slicing the silence with its noise, washing the dishes from their dinner clean.

Lucy maneuvers around the table, collecting cloth napkins, attempting to help clear the table.  She felt it was the least she could do, the confusion still playing on her mind of why she had been asked to this impromptu dinner.

“Your family is lovely,” she tries, edging into the topic of why she was here, dancing around with pleasantries, although sincere, still just that, sidesteps.  “Wyatt and Mark seemed to really hit it off,” she teases, knowing full well that he was upstairs playing that video game with him right now.

“Thanks,” Denise says with a laugh, drying the plates, distracted.  “I wanted you to meet them,” her tone taking on a more serious note.

“But your wife does have a point,” she fidgets with the napkin before finally setting it down, letting her hands flop back to her side.  “Why did you invite me over?”

Her words cut to the chase, having been curious about the strange invite since she’d called earlier that day.

Leaning heavily against the counter, Denise sways.

“I’ve been up most nights lately worrying,” she admits.

Lucy’s face tightens, the idea of their lives hanging in the balance not something new, but still something they worried about the deeper they got.

“I know Rufus told you about Rittenhouse—“

“Rittenhouse?” Denise interrupts her.  “Yeah, that’s part of it.  And I’m looking into it, believe me. But what’s really been keeping me awake is your mother.”

She can feel her heart jump at the mention.  Her mother had always been a point of contention with her, dissipating into reverence more so than before when she got sick.  But now that she was well, she felt the cord cut, a little more freedom every time she stepped into that Lifeboat.  She wanted nothing more than for her mom to understand what had happened - that she had another daughter, that they were a family.  But it sounded insane even to her sometimes.

“My mother?”  She asks, scared of what the next part of this explanation would be.

“As hard as it must be for you to remember your sister, what’s worse for me is that your mother doesn’t.”  The worry is written on her forehead, the concern in her voice.  “She has a daughter she doesn’t even know existed.”

Lucy can feel the wound opening up, tearing away from the stitches she’d so carefully laid upon herself, a strangled scream settling in her throat.

“Before the time machine, my worst fear was losing them.  And now it’s that I could lose them and never know they were here,” she solemnly confesses.  “I get it, Lucy.  The pressure you must feel to keep history in tact so more people aren’t just…erased.”

It’s a pressure that Lucy tries not to carry around with her, but with each mission, the weight becomes just a little heavier on her shoulders.  She’d already lost Amy.  The idea of something that she did or something she couldn’t prevent erasing someone’s child absolutely terrified her.

“I want you to do me a favor,” Denise asks, digging into her pocket.  “Keep this in the Lifeboat for me,” she hands over a flash drive.

Lucy hesitantly reaches out to take it.

“What is it?”

“It’s them,” she simply says, realization passing over Lucy’s face.  “Pictures, photographs, kindergarten art.  It’s our life in a disk.  It’s my locket.”

Lucy unconsciously reaches for the locket, the only tangible evidence that Amy existed, that that part of her life existed at all.  Her fist wrapping around the necklace, refusing to let go of her past.

“If you come back someday and they are gone…promise you’ll show it to me and tell me everything about tonight.  I need to know they existed,” she finishes, her voice choking on the last word.

Lucy can feel the tears sting her eyes, every memory of the two in her own locket beating against her palm, having long since sunk into her skin, weaving into her being, only she able to recall their existence.

“Yeah,” she nods with a half grin.  “I will.”

xxxxx

“I can’t believe you eat those,” Wyatt makes a face at Lucy as she shoves a mushroom that had fallen onto her plate into her mouth.

“They’re good,” she says with a scrunch of her nose, not at all apologizing for her taste in food.

“They’re slimy,” he says with a shake of his face, a laugh attached as she continues to inhale her food.

“And think, you kiss that same mouth,” Amy teases, eating a slice of her plain cheese pizza.

Lucy lets out a boisterous laugh at that, a blush accompanying the noise.  Wyatt had been spending quite a bit of time at the house.  Always carefully planned so that he never actually ran into her mom.  It wasn’t hard since she had night classes and stayed late often, but it soon to be made more difficult with the semester coming to an end.

Wyatt sticks his tongue out at Amy, and she rolls her eyes at him.  Lucy smiles to herself, the two of them bickering like they’d known each other forever giving her a feeling that maybe Wyatt was always meant to be here.

“What?” Wyatt asks, turning back to her, a goofy grin on his face, like he’d just caught her staring at a future they didn’t know they had.

“Nothing,” she says jutting out her chin with a closed smile so big it closed her eyes, peeking out her dimples.  He doesn’t even have to steal a kiss, Lucy more than willing to give him one.

“You guys are even more gross than mushrooms,” Amy says, only half teasing, causing Wyatt to duck his head in laughter.

And Lucy takes another big bite of her pizza.

xxxxx

She’d found Wyatt upstairs, having followed the glow of the television screen, animatedly playing a video game with Denise’s son.  She hadn’t seen him this carefree in a long time.  He usually had a worry line, one he might as well name Lucy, because if he wasn’t stressing during a mission, he was cryptically keeping her at bay during their downtime.

Leaning against the doorframe, she doesn’t want to intrude, but he has this lightness about him, his smile not quite the one he gives to her when she’s said something he likes, but close.  He was having fun.  She hadn’t seen it in years.  The way his tongue stuck to the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating, the way his knee would bounce in nervous excitement, the dimples displayed in all their glory.

“Shit, busted,” he’d said, turning around to find her watching.

Lucy raised her brow at him cussing in front of a kid.

“Don’t tell your mom,” he’d pleaded with a quirk of his lips.

Lucy stifled a laugh, Mark clearly old enough that that’s not an issue, but finding it cute that Wyatt was worried.

Looking over at him in the passenger seat, she can see him staring ahead, deep in thought.  That carefree Wyatt she’d seen was gone, replaced with the one that seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“So what did Agent Christopher want?” He asks, breaking their silence.

Lucy’s grip on the wheel becomes just a tad tight, shifting in her seat, sending his eyes towards her.

“She wanted her own locket,” she grins, and she doesn’t miss his eyes moving down her to where her own locket sat resting against her, ever so slightly jostling with her movements.

“I mean, she seems nice and all, but I’m not sure how Michelle would feel about that,” he ribs her, causing a small laugh and a shake of her head.  When the silence settles, he almost whispers, “I can’t believe you kept it,” with an almost self-deprecating look.

“Yeah, well, I thought about throwing it at your head a few times,” she says with a teasing grin.

He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a grunt.

Silence engulfing them once again.

“Why didn’t you?” He finally asks, curiosity apparently getting the better of him tonight, as well.

Lucy finds her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her thoughts scattered, but one memory pervades.

“I needed to know we were real.”

xxxxx

“Amy, what are you doing?” Lucy yells from the couch, having settled down to watch television.

“You’ll see,” she yells back, and Lucy leans back into Wyatt’s arm, playing with the fringe of the blanket she had wrapped around them.

“What is this?” He asks, laughing at the screen.

“Wait,” she leans forward, her hand landing on his thigh.  “You’ve never seen Friends?”

“I’m scared to say no,” he teases, his eyes dancing with the kaleidoscope of the images reflecting in blue, the glow of the lights they’d hung around the living room turned on.

“Okay, that’s what we’re doing this break, catching you up into this decade,” she teases.  “That is the holiday armadillo,” she says matter of factly, and he looks at her with the most adorably confused face, until they’re both cracking up at each other.

“Lucy, my ride’s here,” she hears Amy yell, as she skips into the living room.

“Okay, call if you need anything,” Lucy yells back, before Amy’s head peeks around.

“Bye…” she practically sings.  “Be good,” she says with a wink.

“Oh my god, LEAVE,” Lucy says, tossing a pillow at her head, that has Wyatt laughing, Lucy’s blushing face burying in his shoulder.

xxxxx

“Where’s the real Austin Roe?” She asks, her patience wearing thin, as she trails her team and Flynn into a more private room, a long wooden table extending throughout.

She’d gone from awe at her location, a bit struck by the situation she’d found herself in, sequestered into a room by George Washington.  The threat of eliminating another piece of history, of changing their world so dramatically with the death of what would become the first president of their country enough to beg Wyatt to put his gun down.  To let Flynn get his way, play along with his ruse.

“Dead in a ditch,” he admits, and she can’t even act surprised.

“You’re a bastard,” she says matter-of-factly, no one willing or able to argue otherwise.

“What is all this, Flynn?” Wyatt demands, and she knows he’s not in the least willing to play his game, to put any of them in danger of being betrayed like their own Benedict Arnold.

“I need Lucy,” Flynn confesses, walking closer, and she can’t help but unconsciously find herself stepping closer to Wyatt, hoping he didn’t come across to their side of the table.  Her eyes buried somewhere deep in the pocket of Wyatt’s safety.  “She’ll know how to find Arnold.  She knows everything about him,” and she swears it almost sounds like praise.

“Why?” Wyatt grits out, becoming more frustrated with each word.  “So you can help him?”

The question was loaded, Flynn admitting to doing what he seemed to do best, beating the hell out of a man to get what he wanted.

Tossing the scrolled note from the key Bonnie and Clyde had, she can’t control the slight shiver or the shift of her eyes towards Wyatt, his own pairs of blues meeting her’s at the mention of what had happened with the pair of thieves.

They still held the possibilities of that night on the tip of their tongue.

“Read it,” Flynn demands, Lucy slowly opening the parchment.

“It’s a letter Benedict wrote to his wife.  It says something about a Rittenhouse meeting,” her words sinking in to everyone in the room.  “Are you saying Benedict Arnold was a member of Rittenhouse?”

“He wasn’t just a member.  He was a founding member.  This is the year it began.  We’re gonna kill Rittenhouse in the crib.  We’re gonna stop them before they ever get started,” Flynn says with such conviction, like he can see the outcome of the future if this were a success.  

Lucy can’t say that the idea doesn’t intrigue her, the chance to go home and have Amy waiting for her.

“You’re going to hunt these people down and you want us to help you?” The question coming out sounding as far fetched as this day was becoming.

Rufus argues against the subject only spurring Flynn’s frustration until he shares a deal.

“I’ll make this easy,” he practically seethes, before straightening.  “You help me here, now, and I’ll hand over the keys to the Mothership, all yours,” he offers.

The deal sounds too good to be true, except that it will literally do exactly what Agent Christopher and her had discussed earlier - change history in a way that could erase even more people, their family and loved ones, in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

The suggestion of this possibility not going over well with Flynn, instead urging him to threaten to continue this chase, with a hundred more trips, changing history as they go.  

“We can end this, Lucy, now,” he bangs on the table with his fist, causing her to flinch, as he soothingly whispers at her in a strained tone.  She stares at him, trying to examine why he wants this so badly, if the risk is really worth it.

She glances over at Wyatt, his eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing, attempting not to form into fists.

Leaning back, Flynn yanks out the journal, the one he’d been taunting her with since the beginning.  Wth a raise of his brow, he rips out several pages, handing them over as a sign of goodwill, letting her read how bad Rittenhouse was in her own words…or so he claimed.

“You’re so full of crap, it’s coming out of your ears,” Wyatt mutters at him, as Lucy snatches the pages from Flynn’s hand, scanning over the handwriting that looked identical to her own.  “We’re not going to help you.  Not after everything we’ve been through.”

It’s as if they had stepped right into his trap, Flynn having anticipated that that’s exactly how Wyatt would react.  And Lucy can’t help but wonder how much is said in this journal.  If it really was her future self, did Flynn know everything?

“I figured you’d say that, so I’m sweetening the pot.  You help me, and I’ll tell you the name of the doctor.”

Wyatt’s mouth hangs open in shock.  Flynn having rendered him speechless, over what, she’s unsure.  Staring at Wyatt, another secret, one that apparently meant more to him than she ever did, has her ducking her head back to the pages she was holding.  Her lip finding its way between her teeth.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wyatt accuses, teeth gritted, and a determined look on his face now, in place of what was once shock.

“Don’t I?” He claims, waving the journal like it held all the secrets of the universe.  “You looked for him, nothing came up, like he didn’t exist.  He does,” he says with a conspiratorial smile, and Lucy looks between Wyatt and Flynn, trying to decipher the cryptic conversation they seemed to be having - one in which her future self apparently knew all about.

The deal out in the open, the promise of all of this ending if they only helped Flynn.

And before she knows it, they’re running right into the camp of the enemy.

xxxxx

Standing in the kitchen, she looks up to see the time, waiting for their hot chocolate to be done.  One of the few things she could make without burning, if it was in the microwave.

“You need any help?” Wyatt’s blue eyes piercing through her, leaning against the island across from her.

“Nope, I haven’t burned the place down…yet,” she teases, and he nods in a way that makes her stomach flip.

Straightening, he moves to her side of the island, his back now against the hard granite, arms extended, reaching towards her to bring her into him.

Her hips meet his with a soft laugh, her hands landing on his chest to steady herself.  His fingers settle on the skin flirting with the air between her jeans and sweater.

His eyes keep wandering, causing her brow to furrow trying to figure out what he’s doing.

Slipping his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans, he moves her ever so slightly to the right.

“What are you doing?” She laughs, his eyes gesturing up for her to look.  A sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

“You did this?” She asks, surprise tinting her voice, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, bringing them closer.

“Your sister,” he grins.  “With my suggestion…”

“I think that’s against the rules,” she chides, barely hitting his lips with her finger.

He brings his face ever so close to her own, his words whispering across her lips.

“I think we’re already breaking a few rules—“  His words barely escaping his mouth, their tease enough to have Lucy launching herself at him.

The mistletoe hanging above them as his warmth pressed into her lips, her whole body slowly molding into him, his tongue moving against her lips, before she pulls back, the sound of the microwave going off.

Her cheeks red, and her eyes still fluttered closed.  She feels his soft lips on her forehead before moving to grab the mugs.

xxxxx

The candlelight casts a shadow across Lucy’s pensive face, her fingers pressured by her lips, teeth threatening to bear into the flesh.  

“Okay, Arnold and Flynn will be down any second, what do we think?” Wyatt asks, standing close to her, his hands on his hips, his voice already hinting at a tone that suggests he’s going to agree.

Lucy looks up at him, lowering her hand to her neck, tracing where her locket should be, having left it in the Lifeboat.  

“I’m in,” Rufus agrees, no hesitation, and Lucy’s head snaps over to him.  She couldn’t believe how readily they were willing to head into dangerous territory to change history so much that the world they came back to would be unrecognizable.

“You’re the one that called us a bunch of Benedict Arnolds,” Wyatt jokes with a half grin, but Lucy’s face remains stoic.  Rufus’ impassioned speech about taking off the head of the snake, killing one man in order to free him and his family, enough to get his vote.

“I vote yes too,” Wyatt says with a tilt of his head.  Her hands wring around her neck, as if begging for something to hold onto, a link to her past, something to anchor her to what they were about to do.

Her eyes plead with Wyatt for more time, not the first time she’d shot him that look.  Her teary eyes not quite wanting to accept that this might actually be the end.

“If we do this…history’s going to change,” she throws out.  “What if—what if more people vanish like my sister?” She argues, at the real issue of why she was hesitating.  Here Flynn was taking out important people in history, but every person in history was important to someone.  You didn’t need to be included in a history book to mean something to someone.  

“What if more people are saved?” Wyatt argues, and she avoids his eyes, crossing her arms, wrapping them around herself.  “Hell, what if you come home to Amy?”

The thought had crossed her mind, but was it a sacrifice she was willing to make?  Kill one to save others?  Her panicked eyes flitter over Wyatt, her throat bobbing with indecision.

“Luce,” he whispers, stepping closer to her in the candlelight.  “This isn’t like saving the Alamo.  This is killing one evil person to save hundreds of people possibly,” his argument coming out in a soft cadence against her.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think ‘history’ is a good enough reason to let people suffer.”

She shakes her head, not wanting to be the reason that suffering continues, but scared of what the outcome might be.  She’d spent her whole life studying history, and then trying to protect it on these missions, and now…she was being asked to ignore that.  Ignore everything she’d been taught.

Wyatt’s hand reaches out, unclenching her grip around herself, letting one of her arms fall to her side, the other softly cradled in his callused hands.

“Lucy, I know you,” he says, and god she wished he didn’t sometimes.  “What you really believe in is helping people,” his thumb gently tracing the lifelines of her hand, the ones he knew so well, had followed along with her for so long until breaking off onto his own.

Stepping closer, his mouth hovers above her ear, his every breath a soft gust of a whisper against her.  

“We’re in this together, Luce.  Whatever you decide.  I’m with you,” he assures her.  Not pressuring her one way or the other.  He’d argued his side, but had ultimately left the decision up to her.  

Her choice.

xxxxx

Lucy plays with the neck of his shirt, tracing her finger over the grooves of the thread holding it together.  Staring transfixed, she pays no attention to the static that now plays on the television, her tape she’d recorded the episode on having long since ended.

She’s not sure what Wyatt is doing, but he’s quiet, as if watching her with apt attention, fixated on her path up and down his neck.

“Wyatt,” she murmurs.

“Hmm,” he hums, his grip around her pulling her closer.

Most nights they somehow ended up entangled on her couch, Amy on the other side, keeping them from doing much other than a few stolen kisses when she wasn’t looking.

Tonight, they were alone.  Amy having left to hang out with her friends on their break.

“You said earlier…your mom…,” she hesitates, not wanting to bring the mood down, but curious about what he’d meant by the comment.  “Used to put up lights…” she trails off, hoping that he’d move to fill the silence.

Resting her head on his chest, she can feel him open his mouth, just slightly, before shutting it quickly.  The turmoil inside of him, debating what and how much to say is obvious, the beat of his nervous heart ticking next to her ear.

“She passed away, Lucy,” he quietly admits.  “It was a long time ago,” he tries to dismiss the event, like he shouldn’t still be sad about it.  His hands hesitate on her back, as if wanting to pull her close, but so used to pushing others away, that he was rendered between indecision.

Lifting her head to meet his eyes, she sees they’ve quietly filled with unshed tears he was trying to hold in.

Her hand moves to his cheek, her thumb wiping at the moisture gathering.

“I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” wanting to take the pain away, and knowing there was nothing she could say that would ever do that for him.  “You know…I’m here…if you ever want to…talk,” she offers, knowing that although it wasn’t necessarily his thing, she was more than willing to have it be her’s.

“You being here is enough,” he answers against her, the words taking flight in her veins and settling somewhere deep into her being.

“I’m with you.”

xxxxx

The rickety wagon picks up again, the horses having now gotten their water.  The information Flynn had just given her, faltering her feelings on the situation at hand.  Her indecision paired with the uncertainty of what would await them as they got home, unsettling her stomach, rendering her quiet.

“You okay?” Wyatt asks beside her, and she nods, her curls bouncing as the wagon continues on.

She notices that his eyes never stop wandering to their surroundings, always on duty to protect them.  But his body was now angled towards her, his words coming out softly as the sounds of the wagon drowned out much of everything.

“Wyatt,” she hesitates, not sure how to phrase her question.

“We’re going to be okay,” he says, thinking that their safety was what she was worried about.  Instead it was the idea that what they did in there today would somehow taint her in the eyes of her sister if she were to get her back.  

He grabs her hand resting underneath her cape, and intwines their fingers together, aligning their lifelines once again.  

“I won’t let anything bad happen,” he promises, as they stop in front of the house, the horses halting.

She glances over at him, a silent plea for that to be true as they entire the house, a gentle squeeze, before they let each other go.

xxxxx

“I should probably get going,” Wyatt says, rustling Lucy awake, having fallen asleep on him.  Groggily she glances up at the clock seeing that it’s about the time he usually leaves.  Neither of them wanting to chance the encounter of her mom coming home early.

“Noo,” Lucy moans, grabbing onto his shirt.  “Don’t leave me,” she playfully says, his head cocking to the side, learning that while he had no problem arguing with her when they didn’t agree, it was mostly in jest, and when she asked him for something, he had a hard time saying no.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he says while standing, always looking out for her.  Staring up at him, still holding on his hand, she lightly yanks on it, all but begging for him to stay, five more minutes.

Bending over, she lets go of his fingers, thinking she’s won.  His hands land somewhere on the cushion behind her, his face inches away from her own.

She takes the opportunity to pull the same move he’d made before, brushing her lips against the soft pair in front of her with her words.

“Please, Wyatt,” she begs, her hands coming back to the neck of his collar, pulling him down on top of her.

xxxxxx

Hearing the words of a young boy spouted from a tyrannical opinion of his father, she can’t help but both be surprised, and horrified that of course Rittenhouse turned out to be just as bad as they knew them to be when they started with this philosophy.

She hears the tiny man who started it all come in, his small spectacles resting on the tip of his nose, but the air of arrogance saturated the room as he walked through.  She kept her head down, continuing to sit in the chair, not wanting to call attention to herself.  But he sees her anyway.

“May I get a better look at you?” He gestures towards her, and she can feel her heart jump into her throat.  “My eyes aren’t want they used to be.”  His request sounding innocent enough, but she knew underneath his tone was a sinister reason.

The young boy, John, comes over to escort her, and her eyes immediately rush to Wyatt’s at the word “examine” that he uses.  She can see the worry in his eyes, and the promise he’d made coming into question so soon.

She refuses to meet Rittenhouse’s eye, the man who had caused so much pain to her and her family standing in front of her.  She can feel Wyatt passing behind her, circling as if to make sure that not one wrong move was made.

Without asking, Rittenhouse reaches out, grabbing her chin, like she was a piece of property that he must make sure is in good condition before he makes his own.

“You have good strong teeth.  Good skull proportion,” he declares, his grip tighter as she squirms.

“Stop,” she demands, wrenching her face out of his grip.

“Your hips are a bit narrow, but no one’s perfect,” he snidely says, adjusting his glasses.  “Tell me, have you reproduced yet?”

She can practically feel Wyatt’s anger radiating off of him from behind her, and he eyes wander over towards him as she thinks about the question, before twitching back towards the creepy man in front of her.

“No,” she grits out.

“Good.”

And before she knows it, a man’s arm is around her, a knife put at her throat, the edge threatening to slit her open if she made one wrong move.

“What are you doing?” Wyatt grunts, Lucy’s panicked breathing only bringing her closer to the blade of the knife.

“These men are here to kill me,” he says, as if it were obvious.  “The sweat on her brow, the look on his face, it’s not the first time I’ve seen that look.  You mean me harm,” he says matter of factly, having already gotten the upper hand.

The man holding Lucy has a tight grip on her, and although she’s frightened, she can’t help but feel she deserved this.  The plan was flawed, her conscience weighing heavy.

“But don’t worry, my dear.  We’ll still find a good use for you,” Rittenhouse says as he saunters over to her, looking her up and down, and she swears, her fear grows ten fold, a creak of the floorboard letting her know that Wyatt, even with a gun to his head, hadn’t taken too kindly to the comment.

xxxxxx

Up until this point, her and Wyatt had taken things slowly, not wanting to rush into anything, her nerves usually getting the better of her, overthinking things to the point of scaring herself right out of what she wanted.

But this kiss was different than the ones before.  They had been treading water, neither one of them wanting to jump right into the deep end just yet, but something about tonight had sparked a need in both of them.

One of his hands tangles in her hair, as her’s wander over his chest, her kisses nipping at his lip, a guttural moan escaping from her lips, that at any other time would’ve sent her in a fit of laughter with a tantalizing blush, but this time only seems to spur her on, his free hand seemingly drawing circles on her bare skin in a way that drives her insane.

His mouth traces her jaw, sending a trail of goosebumps down her spine, before landing on her neck, where she swears she can hear her name etched into her skin with his tongue.

She moves her leg to get more comfortable, and her knee grazes against him in a way that makes his breath hitch in a tense sigh, that only had her yearning to have him make that sound again.

Arching her back, it sends his hand higher, dusting across the bottom of her bra that had her shivering.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs into her neck, and she swears she could feel that question on every nerve ending of her body.

She nods into him.

“Yes.”

xxxxx

The gunshots ring out throughout the room, Arnold’s body crumples on the floor, several bullets littering his body.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It’s the thought that keeps going through her head as the tears spring to her eyes, pulling on the arm that has her in a death grip, the tip of the knife digging into her neck at her movement, before yanking her back to her spot.

Rittenhouse’s mouth moves with words, but she can’t hear any of it, her ears ringing with fear, vibrating through every nerve in her body.  It’s only when he motions with his hand, bringing Wyatt and Flynn to their knees, that she snaps back, pulling at her human restraint.

“No!  No!” She screams, as Wyatt falls to the ground.  She tries to catch his eyes, his promise weighing heavy on her.  He promised he wouldn’t leave again.  He promised he wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

“You two are sentenced to death,” he declares, quickly turning his back to approach her again.  “And you are to be brought to my bedchamber.”

Her teeth grit together, and she flings her limbs as she’s dragged out of the door.

“Wyatt!” She yells, trying to catch his attention, not wanting this to be the last time she sees him.  Not again.

A gunshot signaling her fate.

xxxxxx

As Lucy laid on that couch, Wyatt’s mouth outlining the way he felt for her with every small movement, she couldn’t help but feel something akin to safe.  It was the temptation of an emotion that couldn’t quite utter, didn’t want to think could happen, but bubbled on the surface of her skin in the wake of his touch.  

And the way he touched her wasn’t searching for a version of her he wanted, it wasn’t demanding like he was owed her, it was soft, revered, almost like he wasn’t sure he actually deserved what was happening.  She was a puzzle he was slowly learning to put together by examining each piece, never anticipating the next move, allowing her to show him.

Lucy eyes hazy, her lashes shielding most of her view, as she gazes down at Wyatt, before moving his lips back to her own, the taste of a promise on his lips.

She doesn’t even hear the door being opened and shut, the light footsteps of the heels on the hardwood floor carrying towards the living room.  

Lucy doesn’t hear a thing but the sound of her name on Wyatt’s lips until a sharp gasp is let out and Carol Preston stands behind them glaring down at the two of them with the most terrifying gaze Lucy has ever seen.

xxxxxx

When she pictured how the night was going to go, standing in front of a child, begging Flynn not to kill him, was not part of the plan.

The plan had been to kill one man.  One man.  Not a child.  She’d almost lost Wyatt, nearly flying into his arms when she’d made it back into the room to find her team standing around a bunch of Rittenhouse bodies.  One hug, that was it, before they’d separated.

Flynn screams at her to move, his red, angry face an image she hadn’t wanted to see.  And although he heart threatens to beat out of her chest, she refuses to move.

Her scream isn’t nearly as loud as his, but she does it.  She argues with the man who has long since crossed the line of decency, hoping for an outcome that she has yet to witness with him.

“You have a choice right now!  We all have choices.  We can—“ she hesitates, the idea of killing a child because of who his father is and what he might be not lost on her.  “We can decide to be something different!”

Flynn turns on her, slowly making his way towards the child, a grimacing look on his face.

“Please, no.  Please, please, don’t do this,” she pleads, tears streaming down her face, but her legs refusing to move, not wanting to expose this boy to a fate that never should’ve befallen him.

Flynn grabs onto her wrist, his hand taking up her entire forearm, affirming how much bigger he was than her.  His grip is menacing, his teeth gritted together in an angry sneer.  She’s gone from the gentle, relieved touch of Wyatt to the rage grip Flynn had on her.

“Get out of my way,” he tosses her, not letting go of his grip, instead flinging her like a doll, only to reveal that the boy had escaped.

This only angers him further, Lucy’s free hand wrapped around his, trying to loosen the death grip he had on her on arm.

Yanking her around as he looks, he seems to make a decision.

“Where are you taking me?” She asks, her sobbing momentarily stopped, knowing that at least the boy was safe.  Unlike herself.

“I thought you knew what was at stake.  Come on!” He barks at her.

“Wyatt!  Wyatt!”  She screams, as she’s dragged through the brush towards the Mothership.

“Lucy!”  She hears back, Wyatt’s panicked voice echoing to her.

“No!  No!” She pleads, trying to dig her heels into the ground, but it’s no use, he drags her with him.

“Lucy!” She hears again, and she closes her eyes, praying that Wyatt finds her in time.

“Let go of me!” She demands, but Flynn  seems to have taken a deaf ear towards her.  The fear mounts in her as she’s shoved into a chair in the Mothership, the door closing behind her, only the shouts of Wyatt calling her name cane be heard, as a terrifying sneer of Flynn seen.

xxxxx

A/N: helllllllo.

i know, i know.  it’s been forever a day since i updated this fic.  and the longer it went on, the more nervous i got that whatever i put out next had to be perfect in order to make up for the lack of updating.  it was a terrible spiral of procrastination and rattling self-confidence that led us here.

but finally, FINALLY, chapter ten is posted.

as always, i appreciate any reviews/comments/feedback.  it makes my day and inspires me to write more (both one shots and beyond).  so please do so.

i hope you enjoyed.

[misbhaves]

neko twitch stream log; the final entry.

2018, FEBRUARY 3rd 04:07 AM. 

11.

The room was mostly dark, were it not for the neon lighting bathing itself across the walls, the cupboard, the bed in the corner and the silhouette of the petite hooded figure sitting bow-legged in a chair far too big for her. Between the length of her bangs that were falling into her eyes and the mask stretched over the lower half of her face, nothing was visible, but the feminine posturing and avatar seemed to do the job because not even ten minutes in and no words said and the number of people watching the stream had already jumped up to twenty. The first exhale she released was shaky, and her hands trembled around the XBOX controller in her hands. The viewer count went up and down sporadically as she tried to psych herself up, before, finally a soft voice began speaking: “K-konnichiwa, minna-san.” the girl gave a small bow with her head, the light washing over her concealed face creating shadows over the mask that almost indicated a facial expression. either a smile or a nervous laugh. “I-I’m Neko-chan. Pleased to meet you. Um. I’m a little shy, but I’ll do my best.”

After the first few encouraging comments poured in, her shoulders appeared to relax and her expression, too, or what was visible of it anyway. 

2018, AUG 21st 14:21 PM.

67K.

There was certainly something to be said about popularity, although all her peers repeatedly claimed it wasn’t that important. It was certainly a phrase Neko was guilty of saying, and often, in both languages. Even as she thanked her followers for each milestone she passed from her humble beginnings. Unlike the shy manner with which she had carried herself in her first few videos, she now opened her videos with more fanfire and open excitement. She hadn’t grown comfortable yet to take off her mask, but as she inched closer to the 500K follower mark, she had already decided to change that soon. 

“I-D-K how I feel about the Gamerscom trailer for DMC5. Personally, I’m not sure I really pictured Dante the way he’s been looking in the hyper-realistic rendering of his character,” The girl rambled, pausing only to give herself a sip of the gargantuan soda she had by her side, having to push the mask slightly upward over her mouth to do so. “Show my face?” She said, nearly choking on the soda in the process. “Just like Dante, I feel like the live-action is not going to live up to the anime drawings, you know?”

There was a voice off-camera, seemingly stealing her attention. “What, already?” She whined, before turning back to the camera. “Gotta run off for an IRL sidequest,” She huffed apologetically, setting aside her controller already. “Neko signing out. Ja ne!”

2018 SEP 2ND 16:45 PM.

127K.

“A-Ah, I’m nervous,” It was said daintily, her head ducked and voice shaky for the first time since her early days on the platform. There were already words of encouragement pouring in. Others were impatient, reminding that she had, in fact, promised that today would have been the day. An anxiety she didn’t know the birthplace of always knotted in her chest when it came to the prospect of allowing herself to be judged my others. It was strange. A sharp ache that felt defensive somehow. As if her body was shielding itself based on a previous rejection her mind could not remember.

Shaking hands came up to the tight cotton straps of the mask curved around her ears. “Um. I just want to say uh, I’m sorry if any of you are disappointed.” She mumbled quietly, breathing out shakily, painfully, before slowly unhooking the straps and lowering the mask off her face. 

Then, with one of her hands, she went ahead and pushed her bangs out of her eyes, too. “Konnichiwa, minna-san,” She said, mirroring her first ever greeting, comfortable with her mother-tongue. “It’s me. Neko-chan. Nice to meet you.”

Her cheeks were stained a deep red, her gaze averted so she wouldn’t be too tempted to look at the chat. “A-Anyway, I’m going to play Yakuza-0 first,” She said, fumbling for her controller. “I hope you guys enjoy.”

2019 APR 20TH 20:07PM

45K.

The video opened with royalty-free 8-bit music playing in the background of a dark room bathed in neon pink lighting. sitting cross-legged and hugged by a gaming chair a little too big for such a small person. Neko - a video-gaming streamer of some influence greeted her viewers with a classic ‘v’ sign.. “Hey demons, it’s ya girl, Neko, back at it again with a cringey youtuber intro. First off, good evening to all of you and special greetings to the moon which is out here killing it after the sun was way too hot today.”

The girl fanned herself dramatically, “Today, I was going to go out to see what new games I could buy, but since it was too hot to wear a mask, I just stayed home and continued playing Yakuza all day long. But then like an hour ago, it hit me that i was being a doofus and should at least let you guys play Yakuza with me. So, here we go, minna-san. just a girl, her bunnies and some sweet Japanese gang action.” Her nose wrinkled. “I already don’t wanna know what the chat is gonna be like after that poorly worded statement.” The camera jerked slightly as the girl moves closer, knocking her knee into something underneath the desk and making the desk shake as she jumped in place. “itai... sorry...” She was mumbling, one eye squeezed shut, then louder and more cheerfully, she continued, I fell down the stairs earlier today and I think I might have hurt my ankle, but it’s okay as long as I don’t touch it. an’ I accidentally kicked the CPU.” The screen split then, showing live-action gaming footage. “I-R-L is looking pretty crazy lately, guys. every time I go outside it’s like, I see someone else being collared and taken into a van. america land of the free, home of the brave my ASTEROIDS. What’s brave about going up to people with weapons that render them totally powerless and shackling them without giving them the chance of a fair fight? And like, for what crime anyway? For being born? No wonder so many of you Americans are always raving about going to Japan, because let me tell you, I know plenty of people - some very close to me - who are mutants and nobody cares.” Her fingers continued to rapidly tap away at the controller in her hands, her eyes focused on the game as she spoke.

“You know what I think? I think the mayor of this city is just intimidated. he’s too scared and insecure in his own ability to control a city where some of his civilians are stronger, or faster or smarter than he is.” With an uncharacteristically humourless laugh, she continued. “Boo hoo, Virgie, everyone in the world has to deal with the fact they’re inferior to someone else. It doesn’t give them the right to commit genocide. For Hitler , it was art school. who wants to take bets on what Virgie’s big old justification is?”

“Maybe he was bullied in school, or like a mutant stole his girlfriend, or - wow, what if like, he auditioned for the school play and a mutant stole his role and the guy of his dreams? You know... like Sharpay Evans, who deserved better. whatever it is. It doesn’t matter, because people go through bad, horrible things every day and they still make the choice to be good. I make the choice every day, that even if I’m capable of hurting the people who hurt me a hundred times worse, I won’t do it.”

Her voice was then accompanied by the sound of automated grunts and groans as she concentrated momentarily on the in-game killing she was providing her audience. “And I won’t let you do it either. So, if any of you out there are scared, don’t be. Find others like you and take shelter, because the more unified you are, the less power he has over you.”

After a pause, the girl giggled. “Or something like that. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, sorry. Um, moving on... did any of you guys play the latest Yakuza? what did you think of it, I personally...”

2019 MAY 25TH 22:17PM.

11K.

The steam begun with uncharacteristic silence, bereft of the tinny music the girl had been opening her streams with for the past five months, if not more. The room was the same, as was the chair, but there was something about the girl seated in it that seemed different. Haunted almost. The bruises on her youthful face had almost entirely faded, but they were enough cause for alarm amongst her fans, most of whom had flooded in after seeing her go live for the first time after a nearly month-long hiatus. 

“Hi, everyone,” She greeted in English first before repeating the same in Japanese. “Been a while, huh?” She folded her legs up onto her chair, spinning to and fro. “I haven’t been home in a while. There’s been a lot going down in the city I live in and... I haven’t been dealing with it well, honestly.” She reached up, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You know, I used to think that being a hero just meant doing the right thing, or saving the day. 

43K.

Her nose wrinkled slightly. “But recently, I’ve come to realise it’s not that simple. Sometimes being a hero means not being able to save the day, but being able to send a message.” She cleared her throat, her fingers clenching around her knees. “Yesterday, there was a rally, in which dozens of mutants of various ages were kidnapped. Chained and carted away like cattle. Some of these people are my friends.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

67K.

“And I have failed them.” She continued. “By being born someone privileged enough to have my status swept under the rug.” She bit into her lower lip. “While people like me rot in ... these pseudo-military bases and get tortured and prodded and experimented on as if it’s the second world war and we have learned nothing.”

113K.

“And just like me, if you’re sitting at home and you’re doing nothing while this happens even though you have the power to do otherwise,” She continued, voice strained. “Then you’re just as bad. Just as cowardly.” With a shuddering breath, continued. “The time I’ve spent here, with you guys, will always be the happiest memories I’ll ever have. And maybe one day, I’ll come back and make some more. But, for now, I guess...” She shook out another sigh, reaching up to catch a traitor tear that slipped down her pale face. “I’ll have to be on this hiatus indefinitely.”

130K.

“Because even if I don’t know how this fight is going to end... and even if I’m scared I,” She reached off-screen for something, and when her hand drew back it was holding a porcelain mask, shaped in the traditional Kitsune shape. “I can’t wait around expecting for things to just... get better.”

“And I can’t keep relying on friends or family anymore either, because in the end...” She trailed off, something about her expression breaking. “You never really know a person, do you?” Resolutely, she fastened her mask onto her face. “I can’t wait to be saved anymore.”

“I’m sorry, dad. But, in this story, the princess rescues herself.”

And just like that, the live stream ended abruptly. 

[randomfandomimagine]

5K Contest 2nd Prize

For @xionroxas:

Fandoms: Brooklyn 99, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy XV, Kingdom Hearts, Marvel, My Hero Academia (most detailed)

Name: Miri

Gender to be shipped with: Male

Description: Mexican olive-skinned girl, brunette, 1.70 meters, thin, with glasses. Very shy with new people. When I feel comfy I reveal my bubbly, cheerful and caring personality. Very sensitive: if I feel something is wrong with my loved ones, I'll ask if they're okay and see if I can help. Also I can get sad/mad if I feel they're somehow aggressive. Making things clear is the key. I love video games, anime, music, comedy, reading and making people smile. I love showing my affection. No matter when or where, I'm always listening to music. Music addict. Especially for anime and video games soundtracks. I'm a big fangirl. I can get really loud when I'm too excited. Dog lover. Small breasted and I have kinda big rear attributes.

I ship you with Jake, Zack, Tidus, Prompto, Sora, Peter and Izuku! 

Jake:

At first you didn’t quite get along, or not nearly as well as you do now. Before you liked him but communication was tough, a lot of things got lost in translation. Maybe because he kept talking in Die Hard references, but he once offered to watch it with you and after that day you’ve been inseparable.

Zack:

At first he teased you a lot because you were so shy and wanted you to open up a little, which you did. In time, you started teasing him too, which made him laugh in amusement but he was really happy about it too. You just goof around a lot and it’s great.

Tidus:

With you two it’s all fun and games, your relationship is super cute and cuddly and playful. You’re first and foremost best friends, always making each other laugh, having countless inside jokes and also being there for each other. Yet at the same time you’re very affectionate and such an adorable couple.

Prompto:

You two would be so close! Both of you are kind of shy at first but so bubbly, cheerful, caring, friendly and adorable once you feel more comfortable! You’re always hanging out and chatting and fangirling together. You have so much in common, like the fact that your friends are a priority, how affectionate you are and your love for anime, videogames and music.

Sora:

You get each other really well, sometimes to the point that you can have full conversations without even having to say a word, all with nods and glances and smiles. You and Sora get along extremely well, are super silly and playful and have so much fun together!

Peter:

You two are just nerds together, in the best way possible. Not only do you understand each other and have so much trust and familiarity that you’re extremely comfortable around one another, but you also share many likes and often get excited about things together.

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Lover: Izuku. You two are so similar that you would immediately click together and get along. You’re both loving, sensitive, hardworking and you would excited about things together!

Best friend: Ochako. At first you didn’t like each other that much because of the circumstances in which you met. But after some time in which things settled, you discovered you’re pretty alike! And you’re great friends, not to mention that you’re always there for each oher. 

Enemy: Bakugo. It was a cumulous of things. You didn’t get on the right foot and weren’t on the best of terms, and the fact that he’s always so angry and also bothering Izuku doesn’t help either. You just can’t help but to glare at each other every time you pass by.

Other characters: Iida is very fond and protective of you, he’s basically like an older brother to you. All-Might has heard about you from Izuku and he thinks you’re promising! He’s always kind to you when you encounter and very friendly and interested in your progress as a hero. 

Drabbles

Izuku

You noticed someone staring at you, and when you turned around you saw a green-haired boy, gawking at you. His eyes were opened wide and nearly sparkled at the sight of you. 

“Um... hi” You shyly smiled at him, causing him to gasp.

“Hi! Miri-san!” His hands moved to his mouth as he stared in awe. “I heard so much about you!”

You averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed by this excited boy who seemed to be a fan. He seemed really nice. 

“You have?” You bashfully replied, daring to lock eyes with him again. His glance was warm and welcoming.

“Yes! He offered a hand to you, which you took and softly shook. “M-My name is Midoriya Izuku, nice to meet you! I’m a big fan!” 

You felt yourself blushing, not really used to all the compliments. Sure, you had used your power to save some people when you could, but you weren’t All-Might. You were genuinely surprised that he even heard about you.

“I’m excited to be in class with you!” Izuku said, seeing as you were silent.

“M-Me too!” You genuinely said, getting a liking to him already. “Maybe we can talk some time, exchange tactics!” 

His entire face lit up in response, and he nodded vehemently.

Ochako

You wondered what was going on between them. Izuku and Ochako were friends, but it made you jealous to think that maybe they once wanted to be something more? Now that you were officially Izuku’s girlfriend, it was different. 

You frowned as they smiled at each other, hating to feel the chemistry they shared. Ochako’s glance fell over you, and you were relived to see she remembered you were right there. 

“M-Miri-kun!” Ochako went to your desk, taking advantage of the ruckus of the classroom during the break. “Is something wrong?” 

You scowled a little. Objectively speaking, Ochako-kun was kind, hardworking and friendly. Yet you couldn’t help but to feel jealous of their relationship.

“No...” You replied, too shy to confess it to her. It wasn’t really her fault. 

“Is it because of Midoriya-kun?” She asked worriedly.“W-We’re just friends, I promise!” 

“Really close friends” You nodded, unable to contain your saddened expression. “Closer than him and me are right now” 

Ochako blinked repeatedly, taken aback by your answer. Ever since you started dating, you and Izuku had been a bit distant and you couldn’t tell why.

“Because he likes you so much you make him nervous!” She laughed a little. “He told me, he’s a bit awkward, but I’m sure that will pass soon” 

“Thanks, Ochako-kun” You chuckled as well, feeling a bit silly that you didn’t think of that yourself.

She grinned, and you knew that once you were past that, maybe you could be friends. Good friends.

Bakugo

You and Bakugo had never gotten along. You always kind of disliked each other, and it only worsened when you saw how he treated his ‘best friend’, who happened to be your boyfriend too. So when he bumped his shoulder into yours and kept on walking without even saying sorry, you got mad at him.

“Watch where you’re going!” You exclaimed, even if this was your first actual interaction with him. 

Izuku, who was right beside you, shook your arm in apprehension. But you couldn’t help but to tell Bakugo off. The latter turned around slowly.

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going” His voice started at a normal volume, but began raising as he kept speaking. “Since you’re always listening to your stupid music and you occupy so much space, Miri!!” 

You gasped, not paying attention to the music you were actually listening to at that very moment, sharing an earbud with Izuku. Bakugo just insulted you, twice! 

“Take that back!” Izuku said, angrily, before you could even get over the shock to defend yourself. “Miri-kun’s music is not stupid and she doesn’t occupy too much space!!!” 

You both stared at Izuku in astonishment, surprised that he was facing Bakugo.

“Yeah” You smirked, watching how it rendered him speechless. “Who’s stupid now, you jerk?”  

He gawked at you as you passed him by, your heart warm that the first time Izuku stood up to him was to protect you.

[kill-this-fucking-clown]

Video Games: chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Under the veil of darkness Richie Tozier, a tall, slightly too slim boy, slid out of his bedroom window and down the drainpipe, tugging an old sweater behind him. He landed with a thud on the damp grass. His body instantly tensed as his parents could've easily heard that, and sneaking out could render him officially screwed. However, the boy simply brushed himself off, pushed up his wonky glasses and jogged off down the dimly lit street in Derry, Maine. He knew that catching a cold by running through the street in shorts and a vest would be worth it. He'd get to see the one person who truly made him feel special, made him feel alive. He braced himself against his knees, out of breath, as he reached the side of Eddie Kaspbrak's home. Once his breath had returned it was easy enough to scale the trellis up to the boys window, fling open the latch and flop onto the warm carpet. All of this much to Eddies surprise, although the expression on his face showed he didn't mind in the slightest. "Sup bitch!" Richie panted as got to his feet, throwing his sweater down on the neatly made bed. Eddie returned his greeting with a timid laugh, telling Richie he had almost given him an asthma attack. It was true that Richie really didn't have a life at home. He simply felt like a ghost wandering the halls, trying his best not to anger his parents or be noticed at all. Even though his parents would tell him how much he was loved and cared for, even though loving attention is all the boy with the beat up glasses wanted, he knew the only place he felt truly at home was with his friends, and more importantly in Eddie Kaspbrak's embrace. Casually, Richie slung his feet onto Eddies bed as he proclaimed "Come here Eddie spaghetti!" Opening his arms for a hug he very much needed. He shushed Richie with an endearing smile as he climbed into his arms. "My mom might hear us so shut it! And don't call me that!" The lanky boy ran a hand through his innocent loves curled hair as their laughs harmonised perfectly. "Y'know Eds. We'll get away from here soon enough, we can run and keep running. You,me and the losers. Start a new life and we can be happy" The thought was too good to be true, but who can stop a boy from dreaming? "Yeah..." Eddie said as he nestled into Richie "I'd like that."

CHAPTER ONE: High Score. 6 MONTHS EARLIER Richie smashed buttons and toggled joysticks at an alarming rate as he constantly cursed out his Street Fighter opponent. Seconds felt like hours as he completed his KO and the screen flashed letting him know he had beaten the high score. “Fuck yeah!” Richie exclaimed bowing sarcastically to the few people who had gathered around the machine. I was then he saw Eddie, a good friend watching him with a judging expression from across the room. Richie then promptly adopted his British voice to address his friend. “Ah, Mister Kaspbrak! How do you do old fellow? Came to watch my big game did you? Well chum, since Mister Stanley Uris is not here today I shall challenge you to a duel!”

Eddie tried to instantly decline the offer, but this was clearly to no avail, as before he knew it the two boys were already crowded around a multiplayer game, with Richie starting it up.

“Seriously Richie, i'm not playing this stupid game!” It’s not like eddie could even if he wanted to. He’s always been bad at these things and he squirms at the sight of overused buttons and joysticks riddled with bacteria from sweaty palms.

“Listen Eds” Richie replies with a smirk “I know you know how great i am at these games so there's no need to be embarrassed because we both know i'm going to freaking destroy you. Now come on!”

Richie then pulls Eddie closer to the arcade machine and inserts a coin. The phrase “PRESS ANY BUTTON TO START” flashes on the screen, and Eddie quickly wipes the joystick with his sleeve and commits himself to impending embarrassment.  

The game goes insanely fast with enemies flashing up on the screen at a rate Eddie could never keep up with. Richie on the other hand was destroying him, as he promised he would. By this time it appeared as though Richie had forgotten the whole world had existed apart from him, Eddie, and the game. His eyes were so close to the screen, Eddie thought there was no way that was good for his already poor eyesight, although Richie didn't flinch as he smashed buttons and thrust the joystick to and fro. Even a small bead of sweat appeared on his temple, following the curl of his hair. Eddie felt uncomfortable and quickly averted his gaze from his friend.

Before he had realised how long he must've been studying Richie’s face, the game had ended, with him obviously losing by a mile.

“Wow Ed’s that was terrible! Have you never touched an arcade in your entire life?” Richie laughed with harsh words that Eddie knew held no malicious intent.

Eddie’s natural defence mechanism kicked in as he scowled at the other boy.

“Shut up Richie! I just don't usually hang around places where the floor is sticky and half the people smell like BO, okay?”

Richie laughed at this and ran towards Eddie with his arms outstretched, making the light sweat marks on his shirt very visible.

“Do i smell like BO Eddie Spaghetti? Do i? Come on Ed’s! Take a sniff!”

“Don’t you dare come any fucking closer!” Eddie warned “Put your arms down and get away from me!”  

Richies taunting and Eddies yelling continued for a short while until the both were hysterically laughing at themselves for no particular reason.

Richie wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and shouted “Eddie! I have the most brilliant idea!”

With a raised eyebrow “You and ideas don't mix Rich,” Eddie stated.

“Maybe not always but today they have!” He then planted his hands firmly on his companions shoulders. “You are going to be my student!”

[thecloudlight-blog]

New Post has been published on Cloudlight

New Post has been published on https://cloudlight.biz/security-entrepreneurs-tiny-hack-proof-password-computer/

Security entrepreneur’s tiny hack-proof password computer

LeAnn Bell, an integrated vector, and entrepreneur from Dayton, Ohio, aims to clear up one built integrated the largest built-in built-integrated safety area – built-in and built-in passwords. How? Through promo built integrated everyone an integrated hack-evidence password PC.

Her disintegrated is ideal. Passwords are the bane of the safety built-in-built integrated, with a few even call integrated it the Achilles’ heel.

Microsoft estimates that With the aid of 2020 four billion built-in may be online — two times the number which might be online now. The quantity of passwords built-in use (By way of human be built integrated, now not built-in Machin Tegra tedes) is expected to develop from approximately 75 billion nowadays to around a hundred billion integrated 2020.

Bell’s product, passwordsFAST, seems like a credit-card-sized Etch A Sketch with a qwerty keyboard. Priced similarly integrated to built-in integrated draw integrated toy – at best $19.built-in – the itty-bitty crimson integrated PC won’t enter integrated kids at the integrated net (there’s no knobs or touch-display), however, it’s an integrated communique piece for seniors.

The built-in integrated at the start turned built integrated offered built-in a kiosk at a Dayton mall, after which built

In built-into Mattress, Bath, and Beyond stores. Bell has honed her pitch on QVC, the today Show, and others, and it’s pretty built-incredible.

Seniors are regarded to be gullible, and that they’re a popular goal for hackers… and for passwordsFAST. The unit’s packagintegratedg states “passwordsFAST is splendid for seniors. Deliver your master password to a depended on the family member, and recognize that enjoyed ones can get admission to essential account statistics if wanted.”

Can Bell’s target audience extend integrated from retailers and built-infomercials promo built integrated to purchasers – to tech-savvy teenagers, hip twenty-somethintegratedgs, integrated customers, and greater discern guilt-ing consumers who realize a built-in or two approximately cybersecurity?

We caught up with Bell through e-mail to built-in greater approximately passwordsFAST – and to dig integrated a few apparent worries that protection specialists and company customers are likely to elevate across the tool. I additionally reviewed a passwordsFAST assessment unit.

How Are Effective Home Security Cameras at Deterring Burglars?

You’ll often hear cynics say that domestic safety digital camera systems are extraordinary for recording crime but they do little to really save you it. Although this was true, recording a criminal offense isn’t this sort of terrible factor, is it? The police have a far higher danger of locating and convicting housebreakers in the event that they have photos of the incident. That is especially beneficial if the cameras record clear mug pictures of the criminal(s). For maximum oldsters, though, they would decide on it if their safety investment clearly avoided crime as opposed to document it. So simply how powerful are home security cameras as a burglar deterrent?

What the Research Says

There were some substantial Studies into this. One survey entitled, ‘Know-how Decisions to Burglarize from the Wrongdoer’s Angle,’ is worth noting. The main attention changed into to investigate the minds of serial housebreakers-male and woman to determine how they make their Choices. The intention of this sixty-four page take a look at becoming to decide the following:

Key motivations

Goal-selection techniques Strategies used to break in Gender variations The effectiveness of deterrence factors (security cameras, alarms, and so on.) The effects had been thrilling to mention the least. Preserve analyzing to discover what the burglars have to mention. What the Burglars Say

No matter what the cynics suppose, the general public of intruders does take the presence of security deterrents into attention-cameras, alarms, dogs, and so on. This isn’t speculation, however, the phrases from over 400 reoffending burglars. Round eighty-three% could look into the security state of affairs of assets earlier than making their decision. In other phrases, if safety is vulnerable or non-existent they are some distance more likely to interrupt in. If security features appearance robust and effective, they are much more likely to move on to an easier area. In short, the opportunistic burglar cherry-choices their Target belongings primarily based on its security, or lack of.

Understanding Passwords and Online Account Safety

In a contemporary online world, there are numerous things that ought to be taken into consideration. However, one of the most critical elements in brand new international is the importance of proper person Identity and passwords. Numerous websites require login facts, which include however now not confined to  Apple gadgets, Google d, and Android phones), banking & stock marketplace websites, community message boards, and even health care facts are to be had online now – with a user call/Identification and password.

That being stated, with such a lot of numerous sites that require consumer IDs and passwords

Why would we not maintain or keep our passwords safely? There are numerous ways to save login statistics. The old fashioned manner (pen and paper) is still viable these days, and you can lock your password e-book/paper in a safe if you are that worried about it. Another manner to shop login information is a password manager – just make certain it’s far a reliable and legit password manager. LastPass appears to be a first rate password manager. One may also create and shop a report, or spreadsheet, with login information. These documents and/or spreadsheets may be password covered as well.

It’s far encouraged that you alternate your passwords each 3-6 months for security reasons, However only a minute portion of on-line customers follow this recommendation. For max safety, it’s far important to trade passwords rather regularly. This brings me to my subsequent idea – password strength and duplication.

The power of a password could be very important. Some websites require your password to comprise a chain of letters, numbers, and/or symbols – But many websites do no longer. it’s far best to err on the side of warning with regards to password energy. I’ve known of Several humans the usage of “password” as their actual password on websites, or even using “1234”. Those examples are clearly now not secure and have to be averted. It is also a terrific concept to live far from using your username or portions of your person call to your password. One instance of a more potent than average password might be “I<3A!RPL@n3s”, if you look cautiously, lowercase and uppercase letters, numbers, and symbols are all protected. Now just for enjoyment, do you see what the password definitely says? I <three (coronary heart) Airplanes.

Another recommendation with regards to password safety is to never use the identical password on a couple of websites.

For instance, do now not use the same password in your Netflix account as you do in your bank account. it is uncommon, however no longer remarkable, for websites to be hacked and have their consumer records compromised. If the information is compromised and you use the equal password for your banking, Netflix,  and health care, there lies the possibility of having a person get admission to your different debts – if you percentage passwords and person IDs with diverse websites.

Even as many use the equal consumer call/consumer Identity, that’s excellent, one must ensure that distinct passwords are continually used for every account. online protection is not to be taken lightly, as I’ve witnessed people who have had their accounts misplaced and statistics compromised firsthand. If the large eBay could have their databases compromised, almost all of us can. Granted, if you’re a small time character whose name isn’t always everywhere, you do not should worry approximately this nearly as lots as a person who’s famous, although it is still a situation that has to be addressed nicely. Defend yourself as first-rate you could, with a strong password that consists of lowercase letters, uppercase letters, numbers, and symbols.

Computer Monitors – Is Higher Resolution Better

Frame Price is the variety of nevertheless images which can be cycled thru your reveal or Tv every 2nd normally referred to as Frames According to second or just FPS. The eye and thoughts paintings collectively to perceive movement at about 30 FPS. But that simple rationalization has brought about a lot of myths about handiest desiring 30 FPS at the same time as hugely understating the complexity of human sight and belief. Better FPS does have lots of benefits and research have shown that people can perceive and identify things as excessive as 220 FPS. Most Tv and Film movie is completed at 24 FPS and 30 FPS is considered the minimum ideal FPS for gaming so Most consoles are constructed to run at exactly that but Most laptop monitors run at 65hz refresh Fee that’s 65 FPS. New video display units are coming out which could run at over 200hz. The benefits of Higher Body prices consist of smoother recreation play and help aggressive gamers reduce their reaction time by means of shortening goal identification time. The more frames you may get the better! But gaming in 4k will break your Body Price.

How does decision play into Frame Fee

Every Frame must be rendered. It takes two times as lots strength to render 60 FPS because it does 30 FPS and that makes sense proper? A 1080p Frame is two,073, probably six hundred person pixels but a 4K Body is 8,294,400 pixels that are precisely 4 instances greater than 1080p and calls for four instances the pictures and computing power to render each Body. In element 1 of this collection we found out you in all likelihood cannot even see all the pixels you’re looking at if you have a 4k reveal and now you are either dropping Frame Fee for pixels you cannot see. Even worse is if you have a gaming screen with 144hz or 200hz you are not going to get everywhere close to the ones refresh prices in spite of the quality tools on the market! Even a $1200 Nvidia Titan X on a top of the road gaming build averages around 60 FPS in 4K.So now you have pix probably can not see that are decreasing your FPS, until you lay our a fortune on hardware to get Higher FPS for pixels you possibly cannot see, that may also maintain you from getting the Maximum out of your pricey high refresh Charge 4K screen in case you buy on of these.

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Originally posted 2016-08-28 02:40:28.