#shit ways to control lower class garbage

[indiafishydish]

You can’t seem to help yourself, Nick, apparently Dr. William J Travis also can’t help himself

How many more tooth will you lose? Well oh excuse me teeth.

Soul vibration. Y’all, they only take and keep taking.

The fact is Stephanie Bryant can still be killed and soak and danielle and all of your other girlfriends and who is the bathtub soaker ha

But you’re not fresh Nick and you’re not ever going to be a star so if you can’t change your behavior, you must be killed

Potato brown and russets of millions

Doctors laughing. Lmao those idiot women

I can go back to Dr. Lang and explain to him that he has an opportunity to be a good doctor but he will more than likely just dick me over the same way that Nick has taught me. Most men are in America.

I can go back to Dr. Nazir and he can take me over some more. I said dick don’t get ahead of yourself. Motherfucker, you’re a nasty piece of shit.

I don’t know why I would even consider going back to you. You’re such a fucking piece of dog shit it’s like oh my God can I show you this artwork and you actually use your brain or are you just going to gaslight me some more gaslight me some more I said probably you will gaslight me more just like you guys try to do all the time I guess like doctor like public I have a very difficult time believing that I would want to be a doctor because I think it’s beneath me intellectually speaking

Nick, this is a horrible horrible thing to say but I’m just gonna tell you right now if I’m not OK your daughter will not be OK and your family will be killed one by one

But since that’s not enough, Nick, we are also going to make sure that we make well on that promise to cut your legs off and all of that horrible stuff horrible, horrible, sarcophagus stuff

But you don’t want to kill the wrong ones because then the technology stops people like Nick don’t want anybody to have anything they want it to be the end of times fundamentalist Christian world where he can say and hallelujah brother I own this house that’s disgusting

Some of the wealthier people who own horse farms yeah, they decided to take some of the toys from the doctors in Kentucky because of genetic abuse. Dr. Lang is really pissed about it.

It’s not just genetic abuse. It’s the fact that they want to intentionally target people from other countries and then say I’m better than you and the reason is that Dr. Lang father is really his daddy uncle brother

Indian did you have anything else to add?

Dental work well I can’t trade people to make them feel better

Genetic abuse. Evelyn Carver is already at target because of people

When I say at target I mean potato.

They want to genetically abuse anybody who they deem superior to them genetically and Stephanie and Next thought that they were going to cross the line to apparently check my genetic information and I’ve been studying genetics since I was a kid but not only that I know a lot of things about genetics that a lot of Americans do not know so I’m a very, very shitty motherfucker because I want Americans to also be OK I said shifty

Bombay what else could I possibly add? What do you want me to talk about kings queens princesses all these other titles that I am hearing come back around and the fact that some of those people have what’s the genetics it’s not your business that’s very confidential information and Dr. Lang does not have that access. Neither does Mark even though that would be the joke check my blood to see if I’m really an Indian person the problem even there is that people are born in India. They are Indians and then idiots like Mark Saderholm and Dr. fuck bag Lang think that they are going to be so cluttered I said clever and that’s not clever

More sucking in fucking know I think that Nick wants something at Denises and I think that Dennis wants something from Nick. It gets really weird there because I’m not a fan of either one of them but I do think that Dennis has a certain left button said lust, cause he wants money.

Say whatever the fuck you want. I was a natural lefty in the first place all day.

You guys all are saying that I’m not a natural lefty even though I got my right hand hurt you know I also got my left hand hurt, right whatever believe whatever but I can tell you guys I’m very much a lefty

You cannot force a person to be a left-handed person and have a cash cow child you can’t do that America that’s not how that works so as far as your genetic abuse of trying to smash the hands of little children, do you need to stop? That’s not a question and I’m not smashing any hands.

I could stop you know because I know that somebody like Dr. Lang would be like oh my gosh I want that kind of royalty I’m gonna pretend to be that other guy and she had to listen to me. It’s still gonna turn against you motherfucker

Genetic abuse our servers can’t handle this Rebecca stop oh my gosh we have to read through all of this not only that but the doctors here don’t have access to my genetic information and this is a complicated shit wreck. No you really don’t. I’m not sure what you think you know but you’re wrong I’m about 99.999% right about that.

[hollylachat]

mole game 2

today is febrary fifth

rewriting this because the discard button really seemed intriguing to me like 10 minutes ago i dont know what came over me. I had gotten like so much more then i thought i would yesterday. you actually get super powers in learning when ur actively putting off a college paper.

I be recording bits and pieces of the process of putting it all together idk how much i want to describe in detail, it really takes alot of time to say it all.

I did finally open up that unity program and make a cube, hard part was makin it move

I decided i was gonna use the new unity input system module thing, idk shiny new thing obviously better, no way it isnt, then it like wouldnt be new and i wouldnt be using it.

funny thing is that i spent 30 minutes tryna optimize code and shit because i thought i messed up and was laggin my game, but the like context menu for the player input module just straight up lags the game look at this

i was usin the character controller module to setup the movement and i was tryna use the SimpleMove() function, which should've just taken raw inputs and added gravity, which should've been fine for my game since i don't need a jump and the character wouldn't need to be affected by physics. However it seems like that function is kinda awful, like it doesn't seem to work with Time.deltaTime or have a built in clock, so its all studdery and gets faster when at lower framerates, which i was able to test with my trusty player input context menu lol

yeah but then i just kinda rewrote it in the Move() function and manually just did the funny "+ Physics.gravity" and it just kinda works

void Update(){

characterController.Move((moveVector * moveSpeed + Physics.gravity) * Time.deltaTime);

}

public void Move(InputAction.CallbackContext moveAmount){

vectorBeforeTranslation = moveAmount.ReadValue<Vector2>();

moveVector.Set(vectorBeforeTranslation.x, 0, vectorBeforeTranslation.y);

}

so yeah this is all u need for a character controller folks i hope this helped and i hope someone bullies me for this at some point moveVector is a Vector3 and vectorBeforeTranslation is a Vector2 declared empty earlier in the class.

Now then was to make the character rotate, idk i kinda did it but not really but like hey look holy shit the cube is moving

i like couldnt figure out how make a transition so that the rotation looked clean so i kinda threw out that code

so i guess i just decided that i would work on making the character face my mouse, this was a travesty

a mixture of deciphering how to grab the mouse position from the input system garbage and deciphering how to convert it into real coordinates in the actual game

its like difficult finding any material for understanding quaternions on like a programming or unity level, like i dont actually need to know quaternions just show me where to plug the variables, it seems like the internet is deadset on giving me alternatives so that i never have to touch it so i ended up using the LookAt() function and inserted the mouse position which like semi worked

it made it look towards the ground which was goofy, but also i fixed this by just pretending like the y axis of the mouse position was the same as the character :^)

thats about all i achieved, i spent a long time tryna make a sort of transition for the rotation of the character for like some game feel or something, but idk i can do that later.

i think the next big thing is to work on terrain and how its gonna be destroyed, im lookin into like how to variably change like the vertices and stuff on a mesh, not looking to win any rewards, just dont wanna end up using blocks or somethin stupid for the rocks and shit.

I also gotta research alot into shaders for how i want the insides of the tunnels you would be creating would be.

seems like this would be the stage that would cause burnout since I'm not really sure where to go on from here but i guess ill just learn more about the engine and come back at another day.

one thing to note is that I tried to make my code like modular so i can use them again at a later date, thats probably a fairly good idea, always thought it was weird how much people online tell you to split up ur code and nonsense but dont tell you how they personally do it or like explain how ur supposed to come up with your own system on ur own projects.

hoping seeing so many nonsense libraries and doin so much damn math in my head doesn't rob me of my personality

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the prompt fill, number 3 for Indruck seems pretty fitting!

Here you go! Prompt 3 was “sweet” , Indrid’s design is based on a barracuda and I went with SFW on this one.

“Duck, can you do me a favor when you lock up?” Leo dumps orange taffy into a glass jar. 

“Sure, what d’you need?”

“Got some locks for the garbage cans; put ‘em on after you set the alarm out back. Somethin’s been getting into our trash every damn night for the last week. It makes a god-awful mess and I’m worried we’re gonna get a fine for littering.”

Duck nods, turns his attention back to the flock of tourists approaching the window. The afternoon is swallowed up in a pit of sugar-sticky air and blasts of welcome cold from the freezer. There are worse places for a summer job than Tarkesian’s Sweets--he’s right by the water, can watch the wildlife on his lunch break, and Leo is low-maintenance boss--but after eight hours on his feet getting splashed with soda or burned on the popcorn machine, he’s ready to head home. The trash locks have other ideas.

It takes ten minutes of cursing and fumbling to get the first bin secured. He doesn’t even know how the damn things are getting overturned; they seem too heavy for a raccoon or seagull to knock to the ground. 

A tiny splash behind him, probably a fish jumping. 

Then a crooked, shiny pole slowly enters his periphery. In dim yellow of the streetlight, he can tell the end of it is curved. It pokes inelegantly at the wall, then the locked can, then the wall once again, and then Duck’s leg.

The hook pulls back, pauses, then pokes him again.

“The fuck?” He grabs it when it goes for another jab, pulls up only for his arms to be wrenched towards the water. Not to be outdone, he tugs harder. His opponent retaliates with enough force that he almost tumbles off the pier. He growls, braces his foot on the railing, and hauls the hook and its owner up onto worn wood with him. 

It’s a guy about his age, angular face framed by a mess of silver hair and pierced ears. Figures it’s some sort of artsy punk swimming around poking people in the leg. That explains why he’s shirtless too. 

It does not, however, explain why he has a tail. 

“Rude.” The guy sits up on his hands, silver and black tail flicking droplets of saltwater everywhere, “I don’t go around stopping you from eating.”

“Look man, I just wanted you to stop jabbin me and knockin the trash over.” Maybe if he doesn’t mention the tail it will go away. 

“How else am I supposed to get at those odd, pulpy tubs full of ‘cookies and cream’ or ‘bubblegum’?”

“The fuck--wait, you were tryin’ to get the ice cream containers out of the trash?”

“Yes? I also want more of the caramel apples” he pronounces the last word “applees” causing Duck to giggle in spite of himself. 

“Look, I have to piece words together from the signs on your store. And you obviously know what I meant or you would not be laughing, so do you have any in the cans or not?”

“Nope” Duck gets his laughter under control, “sold out of caramel apples today.” 

“Drat” the visitor starts scooting across the pier towards the unlocked trashcan, “I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Wait don’t fuckin knock that over, Leo’ll be pissed at me if he comes back to a mess, and I don’t feel like pickin up trash because you want a snack!”

“But I’m starving!” The merman, because at this point there’s no way he can deny that’s what’s been rooting through the garbage, whacks at Duck with his tail.

“I know for a damn fact there’s food down there.” He points at the bay. 

“Only if you can catch it, and only if it is not in another mer’s territory. Which much of this area is; I am new here, young, and thus have no claim to any patch of sea.”

“You ain’t got any family?” Something pings in his chest. It’s the part of his heart that made him pick out the runt of litter when his mom let him get a cat on his thirteenth birthday, that means he always splits his lunch with Juno because she’s running track and needs it more than he does, that makes him tear up when he thinks about everything a sapling has to survive to become a tree.

“Merfolk leave home at sixteen.” The merman shrugs.

Duck sighs, grabbing his keys, “If I bring you somethin to eat, will you leave the trash alone?”

“Yes.” 

He shuts off the alarm, grabs a cone and fills it with bright blue ice cream. The merman is back in the water when he returns, arms resting on the pier.

“Oooh, my favorite!” He takes the ice cream, biting huge chunks out of it as Duck re-arms the door. 

Crunch

“...The container is edible!!”

He sits next to the merman’s arms, “Guess you wouldn’t have had an ice cream cone before, huh.”

“No, but it is lovely. I wish humans threw these away more often.” He polishes off the treat, licks his fingers clean with moans Duck hears in his dreams later, and smiles, “thank you for the meal. Goodnight.” 

There’s a final flash of silvery tail, and then Duck’s alone in the breezy night air.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s a sandwich, correct?”

“AHfuck” Duck knocks over his water bottle in surprise. He’s eating behind the candy store like usual and not expecting an aquatic dining companion. 

“Apologies. I have seen you eating here before and thought you may like some company.” He sets a sea urchin on the ground and proceeds to bang on it with a rock. 

“Found some lunch?”

“I followed some otters; I was mainly trying to draw them, but they led me to a kelp bed no one else was in.”

“...Wait how do you draw underwater?”

“Let me finish cracking this open and I will show you.”

Duck spends the rest of his lunch break on his belly, the merman showing him a sketchbook and enchanted pen that conjures whatever colors the illustrator envisions. The mer is genuinely excited to talk to him. He assumes the nuzzling is due to him smelling like cotton candy; he doesn’t mind, the mer’s skin is cool and he makes cute little noises whenever he touches Duck. 

Before the stands, Duck asks, “You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“Duck.” 

Indrid’s eyes flick to the nearby estuary.

“Yeah, like the bird. It’s a nickname.”

“I like it.” Indrid smiles, dives, and flaps his tail once in farewell.

------------------------------------------------------

“Cutting school again?” Indrid’s voice bubbles up by his feet. 

“Yep.” Duck watches the spring clouds roll by from his favorite spot on the beach. It’s secluded and far from town, meaning no one will give him shit for skipping class and nobody will see Indrid.

He worked at Leo’s until this past summer, only quitting at the start of his senior year of high school when Indrid pointed out that much of Kepler was surrounded by water and that, if Duck wanted to see him, he did not have to keep working at the candy store in order to do so. 

“Not that I mind the free food.” Indrid winks. 

“Just gonna bring you bulk ice cream from Safeway; no way am I missin out on that chirpin you do when you eat it.”

Duck slides the grocery bag towards the surf, “not like KCC is gonna rescind my offer. Ain’t a fuckin Ivy League or some shit.”

“And you will be happy there?”

“Yeah. They got a decent work-study program with the park, so I can still get a job as a ranger if I want to.”

“Oh. Good.” 

Indrid sounds sad, and Duck sits up on his elbows. His friend’s torso is fully on land, his tail fidgeting in the foam. 

“What’s up?

“I...Barclay told me his human is going to a school further inland, and I know there are many places you could got to learn. You...you did not choose to stay in Kepler because you feel the need to look after me, did you?”

“Course not.” Duck is sitting up now, aching to stroke Indrid’s hair, “I mean, I’m glad we’re still gonna be able to see each other, and I really hopin I can get a room near the beach so it’s easy to come talk. But this is the right choice for me; if I really want to, I can transfer to a different school in a few years, and I can learn a lot here without takin on a shit-ton of debt. Besides, ain’t like I think you’re helpless; I love bringin you stuff and rubbin your fin when it’s sore, but that’s because you’re my friend. Don’t think you’re helpless. I never have.”

“Not even when I was stealing trash?”

“Thought you were a fuckin nuisance, not helpless.” He playfully nudges his shoulder with his toes. 

Indrid turns his head and nips his calf, “How’s that for a nuisance?”

“Not much, felt kinda nice. Uh, I mean, uh, fuck, so, where’d that worry about my stayin come from?”

The mer crawls and wiggles until they’re shoulder to shoulder, “I think my future sight is finally developing; my fathers arrived around the time he turned eighteen, so it makes sense mine would arrive at a similar point. The trouble is, I am having a hard time telling the futures from my own imaginings and worries.”

“That fuckin sucks.”

“I’ll manage. All seers struggle at the beginning. I just wish I was quicker at learning whether certain timelines are really more likely or if they are just ones that I want to be likely.”

“Like what?”

Indrid glances at him, opens his mouth, then shuts it and faces the sea.

Duck smirks, “‘Drid, there somethin you wanna ask me?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I, I just don’t want to pressure youOOOHhhh that’s not fair” he flops on his back with a groan as Duck scritches his upper tail, “you know I’ll do anything when you touch me like this.”

“Damn right I do. And what I want is for you to tell me the truth.”

Indrid whines, covers his face with his hands.

“Do it or I’ll stop.”

“Rude” Indrid lowers his hands enough that his red eyes peer over the top, “is that any way to treat a mer who wants to kiss you?”

Duck gives his answer by pouncing on his friend, pinning narrow shoulders into the sand as he devours his mouth in kisses. 

“You like that treatment better?”

“Goodness, yes.” Indrid pulls him back down, slipping his tongue between his lips and nibbling his neck when he finally stops to breathe. Then his hand flails sideways, grabbing the plastic bag and chucking it further up the beach.

“The, the tide is coming in and I, ah, foresee us working up quite the appetite.” He tugs Duck’s collar down with his teeth, nuzzling and licking across his skin with little hums of pleasure, “so I want to save those for afterwards. Who knows” he grins, “maybe we’ll need energy for round two as well.”

Duck cups his cheek, inhales the scent of the sea and the sight of his future, “I like the way you think, sweet thing.”

[morgana-ren]

For Anon: Just the alleyway scene! Here you go! 

There was no better display of the sickening plethora of filth that was ‘hero culture’ than the mall.

Hoards of humans crowding inside a concrete cage to throw their money at any cheap, shitty knockoff item with a famous face plastered on it. Kids ran amok, screaming and crying and leaving a trail of crumbs and slobber in their wake. Teenage girls and boys huddled around the hippest stores, fawning over the latest heart throb and shoplifting trinkets while no one was looking. It was absolutely disgusting.

They flocked to the stores like rats chasing poisoned peanut butter. Endeavor t-shirts, Uwabami makeup. Midnight lingerie. Fucking All Might everything. They all flew off the rack as fast as they could be stocked. Moronic NPCs shoveling every ounce of garbage they could find into their inventory. Every bone in his body longed to run his hand along the wall and just watch it all turn to dust.

His hatred of the general populace was one of many reasons Shigaraki didn’t make a habit out of leaving the bar. Assuming that Father had kept enough of his face hidden during his exploits for it to be somewhat safe, he still didn’t particularly enjoy crowds. People of all sizes, shapes, colors, smells, cultures, ideals, and morals but they all had one thing in common.

They all looked down on him.

In public, he always kept his head down, hood and hair covering his marred face. Hands steadily in his pocket, eyes on the ground. He pulled himself into his own body, doing his best to not draw any undue attention. It wasn’t for their benefit, of course, but his. If one more NPC stared at him, a single person let their eyes linger too long on his chapped lips, dry skin, scars, or emaciated form, he would snap and ruin everything. A massacre that ended in his incarceration would probably throw a massive sized wrench into the gears of All for One’s plan, and that was the last thing Tomura wanted.

Regardless, it made him so angry.

Not that he cared what they thought. They could drown in their own filth as far as he was concerned. He just didn’t like being stared at. It was so rude. These pack animals always pretended like they were so much better than everyone else, with their laws and their heroes. So superior. But the way they looked at him, the way their eyes crinkled in disgust, mouths agape, looking at him like he was a wet rat who crawled out of a sewer grate.

How would they look at him when their expressions were melting from their faces as they disintegrated into ash?

The situation made his fingers twitch and lip curl. Wasn’t it enough that idiot Stain had polluted the minds of the city’s villains with his ridiculous ideology? Did everything have to be such a pain in the ass?  

Luckily, Shigaraki had a few hobbies that helped to calm his mind. While drinking at the bar and crisping newspapers was always a quick and easy stress relief, he had always been particularly taken with video games. Not only did he enjoy them, but he was good at them. No one could look down at you for your appearance or ideals, the only thing that mattered in the end was victory, and that was a strategy he could work with.

It didn’t matter the genre, the rating, online or off, he knew he could dominate it. He never had much trouble climbing the rankings or leveling up. Nothing mattered but his prowess, his skill, both of which he had in spades. Not to mention, it allowed him to exercise his destructive and domineering personality without drawing any real attention to himself. In fact, it even made him cool. People would fight for his allegiance during battles or races, sending him an wave of friend requests and messages with offers from their guilds or promises of friendship from their groups. He didn’t care about that. He deserved the recognition. He was only getting what was coming to him.

But even video games weren’t completely safe from the influx of hero paraphernalia pandering garbage. Gaming companies flocked to video games featuring heroes like a fly to shit. It was easily avoidable, sure, but it still pissed him off that heroes could infect the one thing he genuinely enjoyed.

Still, he had to admit, it fun wiping the floor with famous heroes in those games sometimes. Even if the villains were hideously under powered. In fact, that made it even better. If he could win a fight with a nobody villain against a famous hero in a video game where there were limited controls, can you imagine what he could do in real life where the possibilities were endless?

Soon the whole world would see. This was only the beginning.

Frankly, there was only one downside to gaming. Most new releases from the companies he liked didn’t come out with PC ports for a little while after the game’s initial release, which meant he had to leave the safety of the bar and adjourn out into the world to get brand new games. Sure, he could send Kurogiri to do it, but more than once he had come back with the wrong game in the series, or even the wrong one entirely. It was a frustrating mess, and it was easier to just avoid it all together by going himself.

Besides, sometimes walks helped him clear his head. Sometimes.

That was how he found himself here. One of his favorite companies had just released a brand new action and adventure game that he’d been dying to try ever since he saw the trailer. He’d even had Kurogiri call in advance and reserve a copy. At least he could do that right.

Shigaraki needed this. Needed to get his mind off of the Hero Killer Stain and All Might and fucking all of it. He was driving himself mad going around in circles in his own head asking himself questions he knew he didn’t have the answers to. He needed to put his head in the clouds, if only for a little while.

So he dodged through the crowds of people, weaving in and out of families and groups trying to get into the game store before he finally lost his last ounce of sanity. There seemed to be more people here than usual, which just soured his mood even further. He should have known better than to come on a weekend. He grunted past several bystanders, biting his tongue to hold back the onslaught of insults fresh in his mind. It was only when he reached a rather impenetrable wall of people that he inhaled sharply, ready to start grabbing.

A large group of pedestrians had gathered in a circle around something, which was blocking off a large portion of the walkway and therefore his path. He mumbled under his breath, tempted to forcefully move them out of the way. What in the hell was going on that was so important that it saw fit to hinder him?

“Hey, isn’t that the hero class from UA?”

“Yeah! Wow! I saw them compete in the sports festival! So awesome!”

“You guys are so cool! What’s it like at UA?”

Shigaraki stiffened. So they were here. He peered upward for a moment and saw the class huddled together, some blushing, others posing, obviously basking in their new found fame. That kid was here too. The mop of hair and splattering of freckles was visible even from where he stood. That one willing to put himself in danger over and over again for All Might. Midoriya.

Maybe it wasn’t entirely a negative thing that he found himself here on this particular day. That boy obviously had his pulse on hero culture. Maybe he could explain why people were so taken with Stain and yet completely ignored him. An ear splitting smile cut through Shigaraki’s face, irritating one of the blisters on his lower lip. He wiped the blood and waited for the crowd to disperse as the students each went off in their own direction.

When it was only him and one other student, a young girl with short brown hair, he made his move. He started heading in the direction of Midoriya, grinning wider when the young girl sped off, leaving the kid all by himself. It was so perfect. He was about to reach out and make his move when he heard it.

A voice. A voice that made his blood pound in his ears.

He stopped cold, hand stopped short of the oblivious Midoriya’s shoulder. Instinctively, his head turned in the direction of the voice, heart thrumming in his chest. Surrounded by a couple of fellow UA students, she was standing in front of a window, joking around with one of the people nearest her.

Her. She was here

His fingers began to shake as he withdrew them from Midoriya, stuffing them back into his pocket before anyone noticed him. She was here. He should have known. She was in the class too. These kids stuck together like glue. If they were here, it was certain she was nearby. Stupid stupid stupid. He had almost blown his chance.

But he hadn’t.

He turned and stalked in her direction, staying only far enough back as to not draw attention, crimson eyes glaring into the back of her head. She was laughing at something some blonde idiot in her class had said. He felt his temper go through the roof, and allowed one hand out to scratch and dig at his neck. Why was she talking to him? Why was she laughing so hard? What he said probably wasn’t even funny. He didn’t like the way that guy was looking at her. Did he like her? Did she like him?

He felt a thin trickle of liquid down his neck as his scar reopened.

He managed to tame his anger just enough to keep from rushing him. Instead, he followed the group at a distance for a while, waiting for his opportunity. He overheard something about a camping trip and something about training. Interesting. He would have to make a mental note of it. However, right now, he had other things on his mind.

The opportunity finally came when a few of the students rushed ahead to drool over some restaurant while she stayed behind, digging in her bag for her wallet. They ran off ahead, yelling at her to catch up and complaining about hunger. He heard her laugh and tell them she’d be there in a minute, she just needed a second to get some cash out. She was alone. It was time.

He came up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, doing his best to mask his voice.

“Hey, you’re one of those kids from UA, right? You’re practically famous! Do you think I could get an autograph?”

He felt her stiffen underneath his hold. She knew something was off, a shiver rolling down her spine as she tried to turn and look at him. He was just out of the reach of her peripheral, hair and hood hiding his features.

“Y-yeah, I am.” She raised her hand as if to pry him off, but thought better of it. “If you’ll just let me go for a second, I’ll get in my bag and get out a pen and some paper.”

Her voice was on edge, her shoulder muscles clenching. He couldn’t help but smile again.

“I saw you compete in the sports festival. You came in fourth, right? It was so cool. I bet you got so many offers from agencies. I bet everyone wants you to be their hero.” He could feel her breathing getting more shallow, feel her neck flex as she swallowed.

“I-um-Sir, I don’t really feel comfortable being touched by people I don’t know, but if you’ll remove your hand, I’ll get you an autograph or a picture if you want.”

Sir. She had called him sir. It was adorable. He wanted to hear it again.

“I noticed you got your costume fixed too. I liked better it the other way, but that way is fine too.” He chuckled. “Hey, you’re a little tense. It’s okay, we’re friends, remember?”

Realization hit her like a truck. She inhaled, biting her lip as she turned her head as much as she could in his direction. “Shigaraki!”

He leaned down, perching his head on her shoulder. “Careful, you don’t want to make a scene. All Might might not be busy this time, but there certainly a lot of civilians around. A lot of your friends too. I’d hate for something to happen.”

“What do you want?” She snarled, making a slight effort to jerk away. He didn’t let her.

“I just want to talk. Is that so bad? Or are you too cool now to catch up with an old friend?”

“We are not friends!” Growling, she reached up and dug her fingernails into his wrist.

He giggled. She had certainly gotten more feisty since their last meeting. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. I thought we hit it off pretty well.

Before she could respond, the same blonde classmate came running towards them from inside of the nearby building. Shigaraki sneered, tightening his grip on her shoulder in warning. He was no doubt coming back for her.

“Hey! We got a table and be-Woah! Who’s this guy?” The kid stopped a bit short of them, shifting between looking at her in confusion and peering suspiciously at him.

Shigaraki leaned further in and whispered under his breath. “Unless the next time you want to see him is in an urn, I suggest you get rid of him. Quickly.”

She pulled herself together, smiling happily while waving at him. “It’s cool, Denki. He’s an old friend.” A sly smirk pulled at Tomura’s mouth. “We ran into each other and thought we’d catch up a bit. Don’t wait up! I’ll meet you guys there!”

Denki continued looking back and forth between the two of them, eyes lingering on Shigaraki for a brief moment before retreating. “Okay, then. I’ll save you a spot. Don’t take too long or I’ll eat your food too!”

As they watched him walk back into the restaurant, Tomura hummed. “You’re certainly a good actress. If I hadn’t known better, I wouldn’t believe you were lying.”

“Say what you need to say and then leave.” She hissed quietly.

“Walk forward and turn into that alleyway on your left.” He gripped her with his hand, careful to leave his middle finger levitating.

“Like hell! You think I’m just going to walk into a dark alleyway with the leader of the league of villains? You’ll kill me!”

“You don’t have a choice, hero. Assuming that’s what I’m planning, it’s either you or everyone else in this area, starting with Denki.” He began walking, shoving her forward lightly. “And if I start feeling anything funny, I’ll dust you first and then move on to them.”

She exhaled in defeat, shuffling her feet forward as Shigaraki steered her toward the desolate alcove. That rendered her quirk completely useless. Shigaraki would know if she was trying to use it on him, and she didn’t want to test his promise. She had no doubt in her mind that he wouldn’t hesitate.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t get the drop on him though.

Remember your training. Duck and jab. Get out of his reach!

Not quite halfway down the passageway, she ducked and lurched back, sending her elbow careening into his stomach. He grunted in pain as he was driven back several feet away from her, taken too much by surprise to bring his hand down. She turned to face him, readying her defensive stance as he recovered from the blow.

“This again?” He wheezed, rolling his neck.

“I’m not going down without a fight!”

Sighing, he straightened his back and held his hands up. “Have it your way, then.”

She sent a few punches his direction but he dodged the brunt of them, only landing one on his injured shoulder. It was exponentially stronger than the last time they met, enough to send him reeling backwards while grabbing at his weakened limb. He coughed a few times, quickly evading her other jabs.

“You’ve been practicing.” He noted.

“I train with Midnight every week in hand to hand combat to keep people like you away!” She sent another loaded punch towards his face, which he easily sidestepped.

“Looks like it’s going well.” He deadpanned, seeming unimpressed. “I’m getting bored.”

She ignored his prodding, sending a few low kicks to his shins. He brought his own foot up, catching on the back of her knee and yanking, sending her toppling to the ground. She growled in frustration, pushing herself away from where he stood and standing back up, immediately taking stance again. She charged him one last time, sending her leg on a collision course with his hip in the hopes to knock him aside, but he simply raised his arms, catching her leg and holding it.

Her eyes widened as she began to lose balance, but before she could fall again, he slammed her into the wall closest her back using her own leg as leverage. She cried out, letting her guard down. He used the opportunity to move on her, pressing against her and pushing her further into the brick as one hand slid up from her calf to her thigh, never relinquishing its grip, while the other calmly wrapped around her neck, middle finger flexing.

He could feel her erratic breathing. She had lost to him not once, but twice now, and it barely even took any effort on his part. Her frightened eyes searched underneath his hair, but it was too shadowed beneath his hood to see much of anything. All she could make out was his teeth, visible underneath his simpering lips.

“Quiet now. Your little outburst is bound to have attracted attention.” He placed his forehead to hers, leaning forward slightly to cover her face in a curtain of his hair. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her neck “Unless you want a whole lot of nice people to die, you’ll play along.” He pressed her harder into the alley wall, crushing her body with his. He hiked her thigh up around his own and held it there with the hand that still had a grasp on it, maneuvering his hips between her now open legs.

She made a sound of disgust, trying again to turn from him, but he dug his fingernails into her thigh, eliciting a shocked gasp from her. Through the tendrils of his hair, she could see a few curious people beginning to peak into the alley entrance, drawn by the sounds of their fighting. He pushed his face so close to hers that she could feel him smile.

“You’re not making this very convincing.” He whispered. “All it would take is one little touch and I could dust them all.”

She swallowed hard, closing her eyes and preparing herself for what she had to do. Slowly, she raised her arms up over Shigaraki’s shoulders, one hand resting uneasily on the back of his neck, the other tangling up into his hair. She let her leg rest up in his hand instead of squirming, wrapping her knee around his thigh and relaxing her stance so it appeared more natural.

Shigaraki was absolutely not a fan of being touched. In fact, casual brushes in the street were often grounds for a permanent ashing. But this? Oh, he could make an exception for this.

“Good girl. Make it seem like it’s just two lovers in an alleyway looking for a little privacy.” He could smell her again, that scent he’d been dying for, trying so hard to emulate over the past few months. His heart rate was reaching peak levels, but the blood was beginning to divert away from his brain. He couldn’t help himself. He ground into her a little bit, the front of his jeans scraping against her body as he rutted, feeling the warmth of her body.

“You’re despicable.” She seethed, swallowing down a wretch.

He giggled, letting his thumb run small circles over her exposed thigh. “Prove how heroic you are, Hero. Convince me these people don’t deserve what I could do to them.”  

He pushed his mouth to hers, instantly trying to snake his tongue into her mouth. At first she was unresponsive, until he brought the fingers on her neck together and clasped at a necklace she had been wearing. It crumbled instantaneously, sending a splay of ash down onto her chest. Almost immediately, she allowed him access, pliantly opening her lips for him to invade and slowly responding to his ministrations.

She tasted like she smelled, and it took every ounce of self control he had not to push her further. Although her movements were unenthusiastic and light, it didn’t matter to him. He knew he wasn’t exactly experienced in any of this, going off of tips he’d learned on Internet forums or books. He tried a few things, like biting and sucking on her bottom lip or fighting her tongue for dominance, but it seemed to make little difference to her besides the occasional tightening of her fingertips in his hair.

Despite that, he was almost beside himself. He could learn how to make her react to him in time. He was too focused on engraving her into his memory to care. He could feel every last bit of her body pressed against his own, every movement and muscle. Every curve she offered up to him and him alone and it was just like how he had imagined it would be in the dreams that had haunted his few dreaming hours ever since their first meeting.

Shigaraki had certainly not woken up that morning with the belief that he would have his tongue shoved halfway down her throat that day. If he had, he likely would have been in a much more amicable mood. Right now, he felt absolutely ecstatic. He had her right where he wanted her. 

Well, not right where, but close enough. She was submitting to him because he knew her weakness. He wondered, in time, how far he could push that weakness. How far was she willing to go?

But he was nothing if not a strategist. He wouldn’t push it too far too fast. He wouldn’t risk it. He would chip away at her resolve slowly, breaking away her boundaries one at a time until there was nothing left but her submission. If it meant threatening her friends, her family, random children on the street, he didn’t care. She would be his. He decided that a long time ago. She belonged to him, and frankly he didn’t really care what she had to say about it. It wasn’t her decision.

Eventually, the last of the onlookers had left, leaving behind a handful of heckles from teenagers and reprimands from angry parents ushering their children away while covering their eyes. Her hand was yanking at his hair erratically, not in lust but in a likely plead for him to back off of her finally so she could breathe. He gave himself a minute longer, cherishing the moment before withdrawing himself, unable to stop the grin that crawled up his face.

“See? It’s not so bad now, it is? You just saved all those idiot’s lives and all it took was a few minutes.”

She couldn’t stop herself. Her hands were shaking in rage, stomach churning. She’d never felt so violated. So utterly disgusted. She could taste him in the back of her throat and feel his leftover saliva on her lips and it made her want to vomit.

She looked directly up at him, and spit in his face. It landed with in an undignified blob sliding down his cheek.

It took Shigaraki a moment to fully register what happened. He unhanded her leg, bringing it up to his face and squelching the small plop of liquid between his fingers. Slowly, he raised his head up, finally giving her a full view of his face for the first time.

She immediately regretted her actions.

He looked enraged, eyes open with beady pupils staring down at his hand. His cracked mouth was contorted in rage, snarling while rubbed three of his fingers together, spreading the coating around. His eyes flashed up at hers, and his hand clamped down on her throat, fourth finger twitching unsteadily.

“You little brat.” He spat, tightening his grip more and more by the second until she could no longer breathe. “You think you’re all high and mighty, that just because you’re a Hero that there’s no consequences for your actions. That you can treat people like trash.” His fingers dug in with bruising strength, and the longer he held them, the more little black dots began dancing in front of her vision. Her chest was trying desperately to inhale, but she couldn’t with his palm crushing her windpipe. Fear welled up inside her, and the longer she struggled for breath, the more overpowering it became. “I can show you how wrong you are.”

“I-I’m So-orry!” She croaked out, pleading with him for air. His eyes flashed dangerously, and he loosened his grip only enough that he could make out her words.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry! It was-” Her mind raced, searching for the right words to placate him. “It was rude of me, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I beg your forgiveness, Shigaraki. Please forgive me!”

He let his hand sit firm for a few more seconds. He was still twitching with anger, but something about hearing her beg, beg him for forgiveness sent a wave of pleasure through him. Of course she was going to be defiant at first. He could forgive her this once. After all, she would be making it up to him in the end regardless.

He smiled down at her, ghosting his fingers on her neck as she coughed and sputtered, trying to catch her breath. “Just don’t do it again. I hate people with no manners.”

She shook her head, eyes bright and fearful. After that, she didn’t dare try using her quirk on him or bothering to fight him again. She was entirely at his mercy. This guy was insane. He didn’t even need to use his quirk to kill her. He would just suffocate her and leave her body in the alley way. What was his deal? Was he still harboring a grudge from their last encounter? Why was he here now?

Finally regaining her breath, she peered up at him hesitantly, studying his face. “Did you follow me here?”

He seemed taken back for a minute, before chuckling a little underneath his breath. “Follow you here? No. I was actually here for a completely separate reason and just happened to run into you. Isn’t that lucky?”

“Yeah. Lucky.” She grunted, lamenting her choices. She knew she should have stayed in bed today

“I was actually about to grab Midoriya when I saw you. I just couldn’t help myself.”

She furrowed her brows. “But why?” She didn’t understand what this man wanted with her. He didn’t seem to outright want her dead, but wasn’t content letting her live in peace either.

He let out a heinous cackle, letting three of his fingers on his free hand wander up to his neck and scratch. Why was he telling her any of this? “I guess I just find you intriguing.” He tore at his neck anxiously for a moment while she stared at him. The way she was looking at him was making him feel itchy and hot all over. Underneath his hoody, he felt like it was one hundred degrees, which given the weather, might not have been far off. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, anxious, stomach twisting in knots. He hated that she had this control over him.

He pulled his hand away from his sweating neck, reaching up to touch her face once more. He wanted to feel her skin, how soft it was. Just wanted to graze his fingers across her face so he could remember how she felt even after she’d gone. However, when he raised it up by her head, the sleeve of his jacket rode up his arm, revealing the piece of cloth he had tied around his wrist.

Immediately her eyes were drawn to it, and she gulped hard, a horrified expression etched on her features. “Is that… Is that my…”

Shigaraki realized what had spooked her. Tied around his wrist was the unmistakable pattern of her costume, ripped from her torso during the attack on U.S.J. His eyes darkened. There was no sense in lying to her now.

“You recognize it, huh?” He lowered his hand down, bringing it between both of their faces. “I’ve kept it on me since.”

Her breathing became inconsistent and staggered, mouth agape in terror. “W-why?”

He leaned in again, scraping the cloth against her neck, hoping to siphon some of her scent back onto it. “I think it helps keep me focused.”

Her vision spiraled. She could ignore a few consistencies but this was all to much to be a coincidence. Something she had done had gotten his attentions enough to keep it on her, even endear herself to him in some twisted way. He wasn’t just doing this because it made her uncomfortable or to spite her like she initially thought. If she didn’t know better, she would say it was something resembling a crush.

“S-Shigaraki, I don’t-” She cut herself off. What could she possibly say? ’Hey supervillain, not interested?’ ‘Thanks for the flattery but I’m a hero?’ Our careers kind of make it impossible for us to be together but thanks for the interest?’

It didn’t really matter, she had a feeling he wasn’t interested in her opinion on the matter.

“You’re everything I hate, you know.” His voice was soft, gentle even. He had hidden his eyes behind his hair again, and despite refusing to move away from her, he seemed a few miles off. “You heroes. You piss me off. If I had my way, I would have killed every one of you the first time we crossed paths.” There was a distant cold in his voice that made her shiver. “I wanted to. Kill you. It would have been easy too. All I had to do is wrap my fingers around your pretty little neck and squeeze and you’d have been gone before you could even scream for help. I bet that really would have thrown one over an All Might too. One of his precious students turned to dust while he was in the same room. Sometimes I think I should have.”

There was no deception in his voice. He was telling the truth. Somehow it terrified her more than when he had gotten violent. He lowered his hand back down, grabbing her chin with his thumb and index finger.

“But I have better ideas now. There are worse things than death.” He lifted his head, and she felt her soul plummet. His eyes were manic and deranged, boring down into her with the promise of unknown horror. His smile was wide and frenzied, nearly breaking his cracked lips into shards all over again. There was a strange flush across his pallid cheeks, something almost akin to a blush, like he was flustered even thinking about it.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to crawl away. Find a rock somewhere and hide under it, anywhere where he couldn’t find her. Something told her he wasn’t saying this just to frighten her. The possibilities that could run through a madman’s mind were things she didn’t want to consider. Things that he considered worse than death were beyond the realm of what she wanted to realize herself. He placed another soft kiss to her mouth, and she was too paralyzed in fear to stop him.

He looked like he was about to speak when Denki’s voice rang through the alley way. “Hey, what gives? We’ve been waiting forever!” Both she and Tomura turned their heads toward the entrance to see Denki standing there with a beaming smile, eyes closed and holding up several bags of food in his closed hands. “We didn’t wait for ya, but we got you leftovers! Took us forever to find you! What the hell are you doing down here anyway?” He opened his eyes and nearly dropped the food, face red with embarrassment as a few of her classmates crowded around as well with equally shocked expressions.

“Someone’s getting’ some.” Eijiro whispered to a blushing Mina who was giggling behind her hand. Momo scowled over at the pair, giving them a death glare.

“Are we interrupting something?” Fumikage asked, trying to be as polite as possible in the given situation.

“I didn’t realize you were with so many people!” Shigaraki immediately withdrew his hands, stepping away from her but taking care to keep his face shadowed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to keep you held up.”

Eijiro chuckled at his words and she felt like she could just die.

“I’m off then. It was nice catching up. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon!” He spoke loud enough for them to hear before he leaned inconspicuously and whispered in her ear. “If any of you follow me, I’ll get angry. I’d hate to kill half his class without All Might here to see it.”

He started walking but stopped short a few seconds later. “Oh! One last thing, hero.” He pulled her in close to his side, hands fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You promised me a picture.” He held his phone up, getting one snapshot with her in frame. Although his features were still almost entirely hidden behind his hair, she was completely exposed, expression like a deer in headlights. It would do for now. He placed his phone back in his pockets, giving her one last look before turning away and ambling off down further into the alleyway, turning out of her sights after a few seconds.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Mina called, still giggling behind her palm.

“No!” She shook her head vigorously, trying to hold back the tears and the sick that were clawing their way up her throat, acting as natural as she could. “Look, can we just get out of here? Please?”

Her friends all looked at her confused for a moment, shrugging before following her as she took off.

As he heard their voices drift further and further off, Shigaraki brought his fingers up to his lips, grazing where hers had been. He still tasted her, and he was trying to savor every moment. He didn’t know for sure how long it would be until she was in his arms again, only that she would be. He needed to calm down. He needed to be patient.

He forced himself down the streets and passageways away from the mall, farther from her but thinking of nothing but all the while. His head didn’t feel any clearer, if anything it felt more clouded and stimulated than it had before, but he was fine with that. He didn’t get to ask Midoriya what the difference between him and Stain was, but that mattered little to him now. There would be other opportunities for that. He did curse himself as he remembered he had forgotten to pick up his game, but he shrugged it off. If his estimates were correct, it wouldn’t be available for much longer anyway.

The sun sank behind the horizon, giving way to the darkness of the night sky. When he felt secure enough, he placed Father back on his face, making his way back home under the cover of shadow. His body was shivering, but not from the cold. He could hardly believe anything that happened today.

When he finally turned the knob to enter the bar, Kurogiri immediately turned towards him in a panic.“Tomura Shigaraki, is all well? The mall you attended today has been shut down. I was worried that you were detained and perhaps incarcerated.”

“Don’t be stupid, Kurogiri. I’m right here.” He lumbered over to the bar, sitting half-haphazardly in the seat. Kurogiri decided it was better not to question him, opting to pour him a drink instead. He turned towards the TV, which was playing news footage of the mall, giving minimal details about the incident but describing a notorious villain spotted there. “So she told.” He muttered under his breath, smirking. “I figured she would.”

Kurogiri heard his words, but decided it would go against his mental health to question Tomura on the incident if it was indeed what he thought it was. Revealing his face would have far reaching consequences for the league. Judging by the way he was lovingly picking at the ratted material tied around his wrist, he had found that girl again. So his obsession hadn’t in fact died. This would not bode well.

The rest of the night continued on relatively average. Tomura drank and cussed and ranted about All Might and the Hero Killer Stain, staring down at his phone in the intervals. Kurogiri polished his glasses, offering advice where he could and bearing the brunt of Tomura’s abuses when he couldn’t. It almost gave him hope that maybe Shigaraki could put this whole incident behind him instead of obsessing over it like he often did.

That is, until most of the way through the night, Tomura stumbled off the bar stool, clinging onto the counter as he shambled towards his room in the back. He paused momentarily, turning to face Kurogiri for a few seconds before slamming his door.

“Hey Kurogiri, you know those old storage rooms we have? I need them cleaned out. We’ll be having a guest soon. I want to make sure she’s comfortable.”

[bichlordstories]

7: Daddy bento

“(L/n)-san, before you head off to lunch, I need to see you for a moment.” Sekijiro said.

He could briefly see a bit of a scowl you failed to hide before forcing your frown away. From the first week he got to know you from simply teaching the class, he learned that you were terrible at hiding your true feelings, though sometimes it seemed like you weren’t even trying.

He could tell you had a temper, he even seen you getting rough with the other students, especially that silver haired kid, Tetsutetsu. You weren’t directly going after them, in fact, you never really started things. And to make it worse, Tetsutetsu was coming back to you, losing a bit of his temper himself.

Unlike him, however, you were more of a ticking time bomb.

You didn’t go off out of nowhere, and your motives weren’t very predictable. You waited for the person to finish (usually) before striking. You always had a blank but annoyed expression when hurting the ones that mildly inconvenienced you on purpose. And today was worse.

“Yes?” You said in a rather rude tone, earning a raised eyebrow from the teacher.

“...sir.” You corrected.

“I wanted to address your behavior.” The man said simply before pointing to the chair next to his desk.

You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sat down.

“Before you start, Sekijiro-sensei, I just want to note that they started it first.” You said.

Seikijiro sighed and began rubbing his temples.

“Yes. That is true. But that shouldn’t warrant your behavior, (L/n)-san. You need to have better control of yourself, or your actions may lead to dire consequences in the future.” He said in a stern tone.

You looked to the ground, a deep frown evident on your face.

“(L/n)-san... you have a lot of potential. Your physical abilities are outstanding, you take things very seriously in every single test I have given you, and you’ve only been here for a few weeks. I want to help you become one of the greatest heroes of our time, but I need you to work with me here.” He said, this time in a softer tone.

“...ok.” You said.

He leaned back in his chair with a long exhale before continuing.

“If your behavior continues, I will have to have you do counseling, understood?”

“Yes sir.” You said and got up, ready to leave the classroom before the man stopped you.

“Oh, before you go, you’ll have to do some tutoring as well.”

This caught you off guard, to say the least. Before you could ask him what he meant, he spoke once more.

“Although you are passing, you are barely. Out of everyone here, you have the lowest grades, specifically in math. The other subjects have acceptable grades, but I know you can do better.” He said.

“Meet me after school in class, we’ll discuss more.”

And with that, he dismissed you, finally letting you leave the classroom. You opened the door, wanting nothing more than to eat after losing your egg sandwich that morning before walking head first into somebody’s chest.

At first, you thought it was a tall woman, seeing that your face was met with big tits, until you backed away to find two blonde hairs sticking up like rabbit ears.

“All Might.” You said.

The man flashed you a surprised look, smile crooked and nervous.

“Oh, hello there! I’m just passing by, wanted to talk to your teacher!”

You cocked an eyebrow at the blonde before moving to the side to leave.

“Yeah, he’s in there.” You said with a flat tone.

Once again, you left the blonde man to stand awkwardly in a hallway.

“Class 1A is getting a lot of attention lately.”

“Yeah? What’s so good about them anyway?”

“They must have done something so amazing that it got people’s attention.” Someone whispered in a sarcastic tone.

“Like surviving an attack?” You said out loud, drawing the attention of others, including class 1A, who were being blocked by the large group of students.

This whole day wasn’t going your way at all, first you lost your egg sandwich, and then you had to be forced into tutoring by your homeroom teacher. What especially didn’t improve your mood was the rumors of class 1A.

And now look where those rumors led people. In the middle of the hallway, blocking your path in front of class 1A. You had tutoring to go to, and they were not fucking helping.

“They were attacked by villains. They could have died, their teacher had injuries all over him. The fact that they made it out alive without wounds is a miracle.”

A familiar face turned toward you with a mild scowl.

“That doesn’t give them the right to treat the rest of us like garbage.” Shinsou said.

“When did they say anything? What did they do to insinuate that everyone else was trash.” You said.

A student next to you butted in nervously, rubbing his arm.

“W-well that blonde guy-“

“The blonde guy?” You interrupted.

The student looked at you startled, but you continued.

“What about that girl behind him? Did she say something?”

“Uh-“

“And four eyes? He doesn’t look like one to cuss a storm, hell, he looks like he would faint at the word ‘vagina’.”

The said blue haired teen flustered at the word and was about to scold you before Midoriya grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

“Did anyone else say anything.” You said to the crowd.

Everyone else looked toward each other, some looking down while others looked to Shinsou and the class with guilt.

“No? Just the blonde? I mean, wow, if the blonde is an asshole, that must mean everyone else in this goddamn school are stuck up pricks.” You spat their logic back into their faces, earning some grimaces.

“Let me remind you that they could have died. Their parents could have had the bodies of their children sent home to them. Siblings would have lost a brother or sister. A friend would have had to watch their friend be lowered in their grave. They’re still kids. We all are. So get your heads out of your own asses and move.” You said before shoving through the crowd of embarrassed and ashamed students.

After a whole day of missing breakfast and only getting a few bites of lunch, you were starving, cranky, and all around just not having a good day.

You met your homeroom teacher in class 1B. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Although you hid your embarrassment well, you still stood awkwardly in the door. You knew you were the only one getting tutoring out of everyone else.

Why did you have to be so dumb???

“You’re not dumb.”

Shit, you must have said that out loud! Sekijiro-sensei gestured to a seat and stood up from his to approach you.

“People have different ways of learning, and yours isn’t through reading a textbook.” He said.

“I am observant, and I’ve seen you reading textbooks when there’s nothing to do. I’ve seen you struggling to focus as well.”

You looked down at the desk you were sitting in, quietly trying to chip away the edge. Your face twisted into what he could tell was a saddened frown, much different from the usual scowls you gave people. It was obvious that it bothered you to no end that you got almost nothing out of reading. His own expression softened a bit once seeing you crack a bit before sitting down in the seat next to you.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll admit that I struggled with reading when I was your age. Sometimes I still do have problems today.”

You slowly lifted your head and gave him a side glance. He clearly got your attention that time. Knowing that he was able to connect with you further, he began speaking more before something low and guttural resounded within the room.

You froze immediately and turned your head away from him, clearly embarrassed by your organ angrily rumbling at you for food.

The man paused at this before getting up and walking towards his desk. He grabbed a white container and placed it in front of you before sitting back in the desk next to you. You stared at the bento in front of you and then to your teacher.

“Sekijiro-sensei...?”

“Go ahead and eat, kid. You clearly need it after today.” He said before his eyes widened.

“Unless you’re allergic to certain foods...”

You muttered out a no and looked back down at the bento.

“Go ahead, I already ate lunch, that was for later tonight.” He said.

You still hesitated before opening it, being met with a delightful sight. Grilled fish, fried brown rice with vegetables inside, and other greens. You slowly grabbed the chop sticks and looked back to the man, who nodded at you to eat what was in front of you.

And you did just that. At first, you slowly picked at certain foods inside the bento before eating in a more comfortable pace. Sekijiro could see that you were still tense, afraid almost, but he waved it off in his mind.

“...you’re wife did a good job.” You said after finishing.

“I made that myself actually. I don’t have a wife.”

You looked over at the man with surprised look before covering it up and placing the chopsticks across the bento politely.

“Thank you, sir.”

The man flashed you a smile and said that it was no problem before getting up and grabbing a piece of paper, your failed math assignment, and began going over it with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad King is one of the most underrated daddy material in MHA. Seriously. He’s Endeavour if Endeavour was actually a great fucking father (but he ain’t sadly... still love the fire fart, but he excretes small dick energy).

Gotta love blood daddy.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Ash of the Turks meets Genesis for the first time. They bond over Loveless together.

No warnings aside from some swearing and some guns.

Ash was tired.  But despite the dark, cloudy sky, her day was far from over. 

Her boots clacked against the floor of Shinra HQ with each step she made. The building was beginning to empty up around this time of day, the normal employees thankful to finally be able to return to the comfort of their homes. There were a few left on the lower floors of the building where Ash was, but they quickly averted their eyes upon seeing her. 

A pristine black suit, a gun strapped to her thigh, several orbs of Materia hanging from her waist, she was a Turk. Being a Turk went much further than just the suit, of course. It was a way of life. Once you’re a Turk, there’s no such thing as backing out. After all, there’s only one way to truly leave the tight-knit team.  But she wasn’t thinking about dying anytime soon.  Well, hopefully. No promises. She didn’t have much control over where her on Gaia her missions took her.

But her current mission, however, is one she chose for herself. And she was willing to risk her life to complete it. 

To walk to the cafeteria and get a fucking snack. 

She had just gotten off assignment. A simple job, just taking out monsters. But she couldn’t help but feel exhausted. Conjuring Blizzaga icicles into the skulls of random beasts wore her out a bit more than she’d like to admit. 

A small smile makes its way onto Ash’s face as she approaches the cafeteria. The lights were slightly more dim than usual, but the vending machines with her favorite energy drink and Chocobo Chocolate bars seemed to still be working just fine.  She walks into the large room, but is interrupted by... poetry? 

“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water’s surface, the wandering soul...” 

Loveless.  “Knows no rest.” She mutters. It was mostly instinctive; Ash knew most of it by heart. It was one of her favorites.  In a cafeteria is a young man, not much older than Ash herself. He’s dressed in all red, a sword sharpened to perfection resting beside him as he leaned back against a table, a pocket copy of Loveless in his hand, which was also gloved in red. 

He looks up at Ash from the pages of his book, blue-green eyes seeming to almost glow in the dim light of the hollow, empty room. Eyes infused with Mako energy, huh? A SOLDIER. A damn popular one, at that.  Genesis, if her memory serves correct. One of the First Class. Who didn’t know him? 

“Act I, Loveless.” Ash says, giving him a small nod and pulling out some gil from her suit, popping it into the vending machine against the wall.  “Correct.” He says, shutting the book, “Not many know the pages by memory.”

Ash shrugs, “It’s one of my favorite stories.” She reaches into the vending machine to grab her cold drink. She opens it and takes a sip with a sigh of relief. It felt nice to be able to sit back and relax.  “Same for me.” He says, and Ash gives him a polite smile. Goodness, they weren’t lying about the firsts being rather... good-looking. 

“I certainly didn’t expect to see a SOLDIER here. First class, for that matter.” “And I didn’t expect to see a Turk here.” He spat back, brushing some auburn hair out of his face. 

Ash chuckles, “Good to meet ya. I’m Ash. Of the Turks. But you already figured that part out, huh?” 

He looked almost amused.  “Right, the suits and the mannerisms give it away. You guys really do make being a Turk your whole personality, hm?” He remarks, and Ash just smiles back at him.

“Yeah, it’s our only fatal flaw.”

He looks her up and down.

“... And you are?” She added after a beat of silence.

“Oh, you don’t know?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and that shit-eating smirk of his only seemed to grow.  This man is a fucking shitbag, isn’t he? “Oh, no, I do. I was just trying to be polite.”

“Well then, Ash,” He bows, but it seems to be more teasing than respectful, “Commander Genesis Rhapsodos, SOLDIER First Class, at your service.”

Ash holds out her right hand, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander Rhapsodos.” 

Genesis takes it, and his grip is firm. “The feeling is mutual. And I assure you, just Genesis is fine.” 

“Well then, just Genesis,” Ash takes a sip from her energy drink, “What brings you here? I’m sure there’s better places to read Loveless than this place.”

Genesis tilts his head in thought, “It’s quiet and dim. Not many come in here at night, and I prefer to be alone when I’m reading.” He absentmindedly runs his fingers over the cover of his book, “And you?”

“I happened to be passing by and needed a quick boost, that’s it. Unless, of course, I’m here to gather intel,” She shrugs, “The world will never know.” She giggles, her eyes now staring at his hands. Or, more importantly, the copy of Loveless he had. 

“Hey, that’s one of the older prints, isn’t it?” She asks, pointing to it.

“You’re much too relaxed to be- Huh? Oh, yes. The ones with the white, leather covers are a rare find. This one was actually one of my first copies, it was a gift from a friend.” Responds Genesis.

“You have multiple?! I only have one of the usual copies of both the original and the novelization, and then a special edition of the novelization too. The one with all the fancy gold foil on the cover! It’s so pretty, right?” Genesis noticed how her eyes seemed to glimmer as she spoke, her hands waving around excitedly. He felt somewhat happy. The soft curve of her smile, the way her hair rested on her suit, the red glasses sitting low on her nose, framing large, warm eyes.

It felt like something out of Loveless.

“I own almost all of the editions. Loveless is a... very strong passion of mine.” He chuckles, “It’s such an interesting tale, is it not? The hero was always my favorite.”

“Oh?” Ash takes a seat on the table he was at, taking yet another sip from her drink, “My favorite is the prisoner. I really liked the traveler when I was younger, too, but I’ve come to the realization that he’s a rather bland character.”

Genesis sighs, “That’s true. Wasted potential, honestly. But I try not to think about how things could’ve been too much. I always admired the hero for thinking like that.” 

“That’s a good way to think. Especially in this line of work, huh?” She chuckles, “I’ve never been too big on the hero, but I can see why you’d like him. The way he reached out to the traveler in Acts III and IV makes me emotional every single time.” 

Genesis nods. “Right. His character gets explored a bit deeper in the play.” 

“Ugh, the play?!” Ash pouts, “I haven’t gotten a chance to see it yet! I’m rarely free.” 

“It’s well worth the watch, and much of it focuses on the prisoner, if that’s up your alley.” 

“Oh, that sounds fun. I’ll try to see if I can snag some tickets, they’re really hard to find.”

Genesis smirks. “I can pull some strings to help with that, if you’d like.” 

“That sounds grea-” Ash was interrupted by the ringing of her PHS. She sighs, “Gimme a sec.”

She reaches inside her back pocket and flips the device open, “This is Ash. How can I help, chief?” 

Her face hardens into something much more serious than what Genesis saw before, and he can faintly hear some orders over the line, but he couldn’t exactly make out the words.

“... Got it, sir. I’m heading out now.” She responds, shutting the device and shoving it back in her coat. She stands up, tossing the wrapper of her candy bar into the garbage can nearby. 

“Welp, nice talking to ya, Genesis!” She gives him a warm smile, and Genesis can’t help but smile back, “But work calls and I need to go before the chief yells at me. He’s a real scary guy.” 

Genesis had briefly met the director of the Turks. Verdot, was it?  He couldn’t help but agree. Even he felt nervous in his presence. 

“It was nice to meet you, Ash.” Says Genesis, giving her a small wave. 

“Nice to meet you too. See you around.”  Ash takes out the gun strapped to her thigh, nimble fingers flipping open the Materia flap and swapping out the glowing orb for something else on her belt in a matter of mere seconds. This one was green, and seemed to be much more deadly than the yellow one she currently had equipped. She put it back in its holster and ran out of the room.

[always-against-the-grain]

thirds

Summary: You invite Negan over for dinner when your parents are out of town. Continuation of party favor

Pairing: AU Negan x reader (female, named Eddie)

Tags: AU Negan, Negan smut, Negan x reader, rough-ish smut

A/N: no proof read. we die like men

“Oh, fuck” you complained to no one, feeling your muscle soreness settling in as you hopped off your fathers SUV.

You had just come back from the gym and were excited to have the house to yourself. Your folks left town for your mother’s work and you had your whole night planned, get a stoned, eat some lasagna your mom pre-made for you, shower, smoke some more, watch some stand-up, and rub one out.

As you walked towards your front door you heard the faint clinking noises, accompanied by soft rock music; noticing Negan’s half open garage, beaming white light escaping onto the gray pavement.

You entered your home and read the note on the counter:

Eddie,

Your dad and I left for my work trip (that free loader). Left some lasagna in the fridge. 375 45 min.

Love you,

mom (and dad)

DONT USE THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL. Negan will take a look tomorrow at 9am, so please be up to let him in and get coffee going.

Knowing Negan was going to be in your home soon brought tingles to your insides. Reminiscing on how you fucked you in the bathroom a little over a week ago.Your memories aroused you, but frustrated you as well, remembering how he toyed with you that firework infused night.

You snapped yourself out of it and began setting the oven when the door bell rang.

You walked over an peeked through the side window.

Negan?

You opened the door and without a proper greeting you asked, “Um, weren’t you supposed to come by tomorrow?”

“Well hello to you too” Negan commented on your weak hospitality.

“And yeah, for the sink... I’m just here to let you know you left your headlights on” he informed you, tilting his head to the direction of the driveway.

“You couldn’t call?” You questioned his motives for being at your doorstep.

Not that you wouldn’t fuck him over and over, but you wanted to be the one to initiate that. He wasn’t gonna control the situation this time.

“Your folks got rid of the landline.”

That comment served as a potent reminder that you hadn’t physically lived in that house other than school intermissions, and that you didn’t know that much about Negan regardless of how good friends he and your parents were.

“And I don’t have your number, cause that would be inappropriate” He added with a smirk, knowing you were miles past appropriateness.

“Funny” you commented on his response in a dead-panned tone.

You reached for the keys on their respective hook on the wall and walked out towards the car, Negan followed behind. You unlocked it and reached your arm in to switch the lights off.

You shut the car door, noticing Negan was cutting through the lawn, half way towards his front door.

Having already gotten you slice of Negan you couldn’t resist him. Flashes of what tonight could potentially lead to infiltrated your mind.

Fuck

“Hey!” you called out to him.

Negan stopped in his tracks and turned his head towards you.

“You like lasagna?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

Should he enter your home without your parents? What if a neighbor saw? What would they think?

“Is it your mothers or that frozen shit?”

“It’s a Frankie original”

“Fuck. Alright” he was easily convinced.

Your mom did make a mean lasagna.

You set the prepared lasagna on the counter as you continued to wait for the oven to heat.

“You can take a hit of that if you want” you gestured towards the packed glass pipe and lighter sitting at the edge of the bar countertop.

“This what you always do when your parents aren't around?” He asked, reaching for the pipe.

“Smoke? Or invite not-age-appropriate men over?” You teased.

“Both” he said as he struggled with the lighter.

Spark after spark with no flame.

“I think that ones out. Let me get another” you skipped upstairs to your room.

Negan waited patiently, flipping through his phone. He noticed some leftover oil and grim on his fingers and got up to wash his hands. While you were in ransacking your drawers, your phone rang downstairs.

Negan let the first call go, but when the second call came he peaked over, concerned it was one of your parents needing to get a hold of you.

He was thrown off by the name on the screen.

Myles

“Found one” you said coming down the steps, Negan in the middle of drying his hands.

“Here” you handed it to him feeling the dampness on his fingers.

“Thanks doll. Your phone rang by the way” He let you know as he sat back down on one of the stools.

Negan took a couple hits as you opened up your phone and typing a quick message before setting it down.

Negans curiosity quickly unraveled.

“So whose Myles?” Negan asked, smoke exiting along with his words, “Myles with a Y...”

“Um. He is.. he’s my.. boyfriend” you said awlwardly, knowing how fucked up it sounded.

“If he’s your boyfriend, why the hell did you sleep with me. Twice for that matter” Negan questioned, almost interrogating you

“One, don’t come at me like that,” your defenses riding

“Two, it’s not like I’m doing anything he’s not already doing” you replied, taking a hit.

“Shit really? How do you know?”

“We were on a date one night, it was a normal day” you spoke holding your breathe and smoke in.

“and- and I don’t know, I looked at him, and I just knew.” Your voice becoming clearer as the white clouds left your body.

Woman’s intuition, Negan thought to himself. Reflecting on his own past.

“And his messages proved it so, there’s that” you added.

“Shit I’m sorry doll” Negan empathized, taking the pipe for his turn.

“It’s okay...” you said, a bit of sadness painting over your face.

“...you’ve help me get over it quite a bit” your voice lightening up, trying to keep yourself from getting down.

“Does he know you know?” he asked sparking another hit.

“Nah, not yet.”

“Why haven’t you told him? Hoping to work it out?” Smoke blowing from his lips

“Fuck no!” you laughed

“I didn’t confront him about it cause it was right before summer, he’s abroad, I’m doing an internship here. Would’ve been really stressful dealing with a break up right now.”

“But that a bridge we’ll cross when we get there, in the mean time I’m just gonna dick around” you said nonchalantly as you reached for the pipe once more, intentionally grazing his hand half a second slower.

Your final hit closed the conversation on your relationship.

You set the pipe down, free for Negan to grab if he’d like to continue.

“Okay, what about you? What’s your is deal, what do you do around here?” You guided the conversation towards his occupation, rather than his love life, worried that that information might put you off.

Negan grabbed the pipe.

“I teach” he said before taking a puff.

“You teach? You? A cigarette smoking, beer drinking, motorcycle driving, bachelor?” You busted his balls

“First of all honey, there’s not a wrong way to live a life. And secondly, I know I’m not perfect. Hell, I’m light years from perfect, but I am proud of what I do. I’m a good ass teacher, I make these kids find awe in bi-fucking-ology .”

“Biology? I’m sorry, but this is wild! I didn’t expect you do me a science geek.” You were actually intrigued, “How’d you get into teaching?”

“Well, I did my undergrad degree in biology. And I TA-ed a course and I realized I really liked teaching so after graduation I went ahead and got my Master’s in education.”

“Wait, I thought you coached”? You jumped to the next question

“I do that too. I teach 4 classes, 2 intro bios, 1 ap bio, and one health period. Then coach after school”

”What do you coach?”

“Coach women's basketball in the winter, and help out with baseball in the spring.”

“I’m guessing you like it? You seem very passionate.”

”I love this teaching shit. Plus, I’m someone these kids can talk to, someone who can guide them and be raw-fully honest about anything- I don’t patronize these kids. I get to be the person I needed at their age, it’s a sweet gig” He couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face

This conversation fine tuned your image of Negan. You found yourself lost in the dichotomy of it all. Here he was, shirt covered in black oil stains, smoking weed, cursing, yet vulnerable, gentleness peaking through his macho-ness.

Beep

You walked over to lay the lasagna on the rack. Negan admiring your ass as you bent over. He stared for as long as he could. Blood flowing to his manhood.

“So, we got 45 minutes to kill” you closed the oven and walked around the counter towards him.

Your hands went towards his knee cap, pushing his leg out to fit your stature between his seated figure.

“What can Coach Negan teach me in that time?” you whispered as your lips gravitated towards his.

You wantonly kissed him. Sliding your tongue in his mouth to wrestle with his. His hands firmly cupped your ass, pulling you closer to him.

“There she is.” He applauded, as you tugged on his lower lip.

“I was waiting for your dirty side to come out and play” he said, knotting his fingers through your hair that was in a post-work-out messy bun.

You tried to bring your mouth back to his and you got close, but his firm grip held you back.

“Uh-huh” he said, barely audible.

Negan stuck his tongue out slightly, leaning towards you. Your lips were ready to welcome him, before he sprung back.

“Fucker” You let out a sigh that was between a laugh and utter frustration.

He toward over you, staring at you lustfully.

He had you desperate for more. Negan felt your try to fight against his grasp again.

“You lack patience” He informed you, keeping you away from him.

“And you’re a tease” You immediately shot back at him

He closed his fist further, the taut strands pulling on your scalp, “I’m not a tease. I just know what you can handle.”

“I don’t think you do” You were up for the challenge.

“Oh, honey” He smirked doubtfully.

Butterflies flooded your gut, tingles shot across your upper back. You were nervous, but gave him no indication of that, so he figured he’d teach you lesson, put you in your place.

“Other than the word ‘stop’ is gonna make me stop. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes” You answered attempting to kiss I’m once more.

Negan kept a tight grip of you hair, but allowed you to bring your mouth to his.

He brought his other hand to your clothed center. Pulling his lips away to see your reaction.

Breathily moans began spilling out of you. Your eyes fluttering shut, focusing on his touch.

He stopped his maneuvers, “Look at me”

Once you opened your eyes and locked with his he resumed to pleasure you.

He stood up, hands still wrapped in your hair and on your womanhood. He kept you neck extended, staring into your eyes as you both stumbled toward the living room couch. His eyes told you he was excited to show you what you had not yet experienced.

He gave your final rubs before as you arrived to the L-shaped couch.

You began undressing other other. As each item of clothing disappeared you found new areas to grope each other.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled as you reached for his heavy member, pumping him slowly.

Negan grabbed the sides of your jaw, giving you a nasty kisses before directing you in a face down position. He placed you on your knees, your rear directed upwards. The feeling the cool air gust over your wet center gave you shivers.

He lightly tapped your clit with his dick. He did that multiple times before sliding it between your folds, lubricating himself with your fluids.

“Ugh Negan... fuck” you mewled

You started to lean back into him, wanting more contact. Negan didn’t appreciate it that. He held your hip tightly with his other hand as he teased you for what felt like hours. He eventually stuck the tip of his cock inside you and sat still.

You knew if you moved he would make you wait longer. You decided to be patient and let him make the call. Admitting to yourself that he took the wheel form you once more.

Once you’re breathing settled, Negan stuck the entire length of his member in one motion, accompanied by a load groan.

“Oh fuck” you yelled as your entrance stretched around him.

Negan brought his hand to the side of your face to hold you down. You felt your check rub harsher against the couch cushion as he built up speed. The sound of his balls slapping against your wet pussy filled the family room.

His thrusts were euphoric and dominating. He was punishing you and wanted you to enjoy it.

In between his plunges you were able to catch a whiff of his cologne with his natural musk sprinkled in. That scent did something primal to you.

Your felt your release was close.

“Ne-, I’m- I’m” you started to inform him.

He began to force himself harder and deeper. You couldn’t keep your position, your pelvis dropped, your leg fell of the edge, squirming and kicking.

“Mmmmm!! Fuck!” Your toes splayed as your climax enveloped you.

You thought Negan would slow down after cumming that hard, but he kept pushing into your prone body at the same pace. Your hand reached back to brace his quad, hoping to diminish his thrusts.

Negan roughly gripped the hand that was trying to stop him and pinned it over your head, his long torso over your back, closing the space between you.

His hips continued to drive into you as he growled in your ear, , “This is what punching above you’re weight class is baby.”

You began moaning, not you’re typical moans though. The sounds escaping you sounded like a porno. If you heard a voice recording of this moment you would swear it was staged

Groans bubbled and escaped Negan as he felt his release building.

He clenched your hair and pulled out of you. You were relieved as you were becoming over sensitive.

He brought his member over your face, holding your head down onto the cushions.

His manhood hovered over you, swiftly pumping himself.

“ughhh” You heard his as his warm milky seed splattered on the side of your face.

He was breathing fast and heavy after his release. He used his member to scoop some of his cum from your cheek and brought it into your mouth.

“Dirty girl” he smiled as welcomed his cock, and sucked tenderly on his bulbous head, extracting all of him.

Afterwards Negan helped you sit up.

He picked up your shirt from the ground and handed it to you to wipe your face.

“Thanks” you said weakly, yet satisfied.

He sat beside you. Hand grazing your thigh, slowly working towards your center, as you rid your face of his seed.

The instant his finger touched you nerve bundle, you jolted away from him, lightly swatting his hand away.

“You okay?” He chuckled, stopping his movements but pulling you back close to him.

“Yeah” you answered “It was just a lot, but it was really good”

“Are you gonna listen to me now? When I say what you can handle and what you can’t?”

“Yeah”

He stared at you, wanted a different answer.

You know that look. It was the ‘yeah’-is-not-an-answer look, given to you by your own coaches.

“Yes” you said clear and respectfully.

“Good” He brought his lips to yours, slipping his tongue through.

Your make out session was interrupted by the oven.

Beep

“Let’s eat” He said.

____________________

After dinner you both hopped in the shower. You had sex again. And he was much slower and gentle in that second round.

Negan sat the edge of your bed, towel around his waist. He looked around your room, while you found something suitable for him to wear.

Half of your room was neat and well put together. The other half looked like an artists went on a bender. The wall and ground were littered with your drawings and ongoing project ideas.

“Here” you handed him unisex navy blue tee and sweats, “Let me know if they fit or not.”

You went back to your dresser to dress yourself in a Nike long sleeve and compression shorts

“How’d that work out?” You asked facing away from him.

“Take a look” He said waiting for you to see what was wrong.

You turned around and didn’t see anything fit too tight or too loose. Then you noticed the sweats were well above his ankles

You burst out laughing “Never thought I’d see you in capris“

“They fit around the waist, that’s what matters” He laughed

You both went back downstairs. Drank beer and played the stand up you had planned on watching. You both sat close to each other, in the very spot you had fucked earlier.

Mid-way Negan interrupted the special, “Hey, when do you head back to school?”

“Two weeks. We’re gonna have a little party. I’m sure my folks will invite you. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering” he said, but he really was plotting your farewell gift.

[waywardwonderland]

13 - We Go Together

Young!Sam x Reader, Dean x Amanda (After School Special)

You and Sam share your first kiss after being dragged along to Dean’s date at the drive in theatre.

Word count: 1555

Warnings: Public displays of affection, Dean being Dean, fluffy first kiss

Author’s Note: This is part two to 10 (not sure what I am going to name the series, please send suggestions if you have them!) but it can also be read as a fluffy one shot!

You didn’t spend another extended period of time with the Winchesters until you were 13. There was a suspected vampire nest in Indiana and your parents made the last minute decision to be back for John on the hunt. You were excited to spend time with Sam again, sure you got to see him in fleeting moments when your parents had to drop something off with over the last few years but your crush had only gone stronger in with the time and distance.

Sure staying at a run-down motel with the brothers was a bit strange, but you were in school for most of the day and John left the Impala with Dean so you weren’t confined to the two-star room the entire time.

You were excited when after class Dean mentioned going to the Drive-In that night, but automatically rolled your eyes when you heard the movie playing was Grease and a girl named Amanda would be joining the three of you. You and Sam were getting a back row ticket to Dean’s date because he wasn’t allowed to leave you alone at the motel.

You stared out the window as Dean pulled into the empty lot, trying not to gag as he shamelessly flirted with Amanda who was practically sitting in his lap in the front seat. As soon as the car stopped Sam’s seatbelt was off and the backdoor to the car squeaked open. “Where do you think you’re going?” Dean grunted directing his attention to the back seat, obviously annoyed that he had to babysit the two of you while trying to impress the blonde.“Popcorn.” Sam snapped, “Is that ok or do you need to supervise my purchase of movie snacks too?” He asked slamming the car door shut.

“Hey – watch baby!” Dean yelled out the window. He shifted to his side and pulled a leather wallet form his back pocket, handing you a $20 bill. “Y/n go with him, and get me Skittles” he directed his attention back to Amanda, raising his brows. She let out a high pitch laugh that made you want to gag. “You got it.” You responded dryly before following Sam out of the car towards the small concession shack located to the side of the large screen.

You and Sam approached the counter and ordered two large popcorns for the car, Dean’s Skittles, a coffee for Sam and chocolate shake for yourself. You confidently handed the teenager working Dean’s bill and dropped your change in the tip jar as your heard the crowd hush and the first line of Frankie Valli’s Grease is the Word play over the loud outdoor speakers. “Shit.” Sam mumbled grabbing one of the popcorn bags and his coffee, running back towards where the Impala was parked.

You grabbed the remainder of the snacks and chased after him, weaving between cars until Sam stopped abruptly in front of you, causing you to smack into his back and drop the large bag of popcorn and Skittles on the dead grass. “Oof, what the heck?” You asked as you bent down to pick up the dropped bag, trying to salvage as much of the popped kernels as you could before hearing Sam’s groan and directing your attention up to see Dean and Amanda already making out hot and heavy in the front seat of the Impala. You gulped.

“S-sorry” Sam mumbled, his cheeks flushed as he turned to help you pick up the dropped candy, nodding over his shoulder to direct your attention to Dean now laying down on top of the blond. “He didn’t even make past the first song” he shook his head trying to calm the heat in his cheeks.

You blushed as his fingers grazed over yours and you drew the popcorn bag back quickly. “I’m not getting back in that car” you whispered at Sam, loud enough so he could hear you over the music but quiet enough so you wouldn’t disturb the patrons who were actually watching the film.

“Oh hell no” Sam said standing to his feet and pointing to the abandoned playground at the back of the field. You nodded agreeing and followed him to the old structure, setting yourselves up on top of the old jungle gym where you had a somewhat decent view of the screen.

“I’m sorry about Dean” Sam said through the popcorn he shoved in his mouth, not concerned about his volume as you were at least 20 feet away from the last car in the field. “It’s ok” you shrugged taking a sip of your milkshake and opening what was supposed to be Dean’s candy. “It’s not like you control him.”

Sam laughed, “Yeah no one can, except maybe dad” he responded picking up his coffee and directing his attention back to the film as the Pink Ladies’ car appeared on the screen. You both sat in a comfortable silence watching the film and eating the snacks. One small perk coming from Dean’s inability to control himself in a public place. As it grew later it got colder outside, without the protection of a car you started to shiver as Sandy sang Hopelessly Devoted to You, placing the pages of note paper in the kiddie pool outside Frenchie’s house. You never really understood the strange scene but couldn’t even keep our focus on the movie as your teeth chattered loudly.

“Here” Sam said assertively taking off his tan corduroy jacket and placing it over your shoulders. You were too cold to protest so you just smiled “Thanks” you responded quietly addressing your attention back to the screen. “You know, maybe you wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t down your milkshake in the first 30 minutes” Sam joked nudging your arm.

You rolled your eyes playfully in response, “Well I wasn’t exactly expecting to be outside all night, plus I needed something sweet to go with the salty popcorn!” You took the lid off your shake to try and get the last sip of the chocolate goodness, angling the straw and tipping your nose down to try and lick the remainder from the inside of the cup.

“You got a – uh, you got some on your nose” Sam said running his index finger over the tip of your nose, showing you the whipped cream on his finger before rubbing it on his jeans. You blushed and shivered, not sure if it was from the cold night air or the fact that all you could hear was Rizzo and Kenickie making out on screen and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Before you knew it Sam’s lips were on yours, hesitant but soft. You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling, snapping back to reality when you felt his lips move off of yours.

“Sorry.” Sam said quickly pushing his body away from yours creating distance between the two of you. “I – I don’t know what came over me.” You could barely see the blush on his face, illuminated only slightly by the projection on the screen.

“No” you said feeling the tingling sensation still on your lips, “I – I liked it.” You responded by moving closer to him, closing the gap between the two of you. He put his hand on the side of your face and kissed you again, with less hesitation this time, encompassing your lower lip between his. You leaned and kissed him back, pulling him closer by his hoodie.

You continued to make out for the remainder of the remainder of the film. Both of you not really knowing what you were doing but enjoying each other’s closeness and warmth. It was sloppy and a little awkward, but exciting and fun. Sam would later tell you that he was trying desperately to copy what he had seen Dean doing with cheerleaders in the football stands, and you would admit you were going by memory of the bad made for TV movies you watched when nothing else was on.

As the final song, We Go Together drew to a close and Danny’s car flew into the sky you pulled back from each other, Sam pulling you into his rapidly moving chest for a warm hug. “That was..” he started, “Really nice” you continued. Pulling back from him and taking his jacket off your shoulders as you both grabbed the garbage and made your way back down to the ground where you heard car engines begin to roar into action.

“No – it’s cold, keep it!” Sam said with a small smile, you nodded in response walking back to where the Impala had been parked, hoping Dean and Amanda had finished up by now. “What about Dean?” his older brother’s teasing came into your head as you tried to shed the coat again, but Sam stopped you.

“I can handle him” he said confidently. “No one forces my girl to sit out in the cold.” You looked over at him and could see his smile in the darkness, butterflies racing in your stomach as you opened the door to the backseat of the Impala.

“Ready to go?” Dean asked grunting, shifting awkwardly in the front seat, Amanda again giggling as if it were her day job beside him. "Yeah let’s get going.” Sam replied sliding in beside you on the leather seats “Y/n’s cold”.

Part 3 (15)

[bloody-britt26]

Britt's shiny team headcanons!

So... nobody asked for this, but I wanted to do it anyway since I'm happy to have completed my first shiny team for Sword and Shield.

Since I love my virtual monsters a lot, I wanted to give them some personalities and share them with you.

My team includes some pokémon that I've hatched in SwSh and shinies from previous games.

I'm currently working on making a shiny team for everyone of my favourite types, so a shiny fairy team, a shiny dragon team and a shiny poison team.

Anyways... meet my sparkly squad!

♡ Lucian

• You're never sure whether you want to pet him or punch him.

• Lucian has attitude, and he's not afraid to use it.

• He's the kind of pokémon who enjoys the company of a very small elite group of individuals, and the rest of the world is absolute garbage to him.

• On one hand, he can be extremely loyal to those he loves and will fight with all of his pretty boy might.

• On the other hand, if he finds someone to be unworthy of his time, he can be downright aggressive and rude to them.

• His facial expressions don't lie. If he finds someone disgusting, it'll show. A lot.

• Britt had a hard time fitting him in a team. She had to figure out a group of pokémon where Lucian tolerated at least 50% of them, all the while making sure that the selected group could handle him and his marvellous attitude.

• Lucian is kind of a player.

• He loves hanging out with female pokémon and is very smooth with them, but he doesn't care for hanging with the male pokémon.

• He steers clear of Red Death as Lucian has had to deal with a few Waterfalls to the face for being an annoyance.

• He doesn't mind Snuggles as the little ball of fluff is very oblivious to his surroundings.

• Lucian is mostly seen hanging out with Nully. Since Nully is genderless, Lucian doesn't see them as a potential mate or rival.

• Although, whether they're friends or not is up for debate.

• Even when he was a small Eevee, he had a superiority complex, but that doubled when he evolved into a Sylveon.

• He's, thankfully, very supportive of his trainer and will always try to hang on even in the toughest of fights. He's constantly shaking off statuses and damage as to not worry Britt.

• He loves having Britt's attention and will demand head pats at all times.

• He's difficult to get through, but with a bit of patience, he's a good boy once you know the proper approach to his odd personality.

• The rest of the team respects him, but they know how to (and will) deal with his shit when things get too hectic.

♡ Shortcake

• Big girl, gentle girl.

• She looks threatening, but she's the softest dragon you'll ever meet.

• She's very shy and has a hard time mingling with other groups of pokémon, always being on the sidelines and watching others play.

• She wants to play too, but she's so timid, so she mostly stays by pokémon she knows or Britt.

• She likes playing with smaller pokémon better because she finds larger pokémon to be frightening.

• The exception is Red Death. He's big, but Shortcake seems to like him because he's pretty calm for a Gyarados.

• She plays ball with Snuggles the Wooloo quite often. Sometimes, Snuggles is the ball.

• Unlike most dragons, Shortcake loves sweet fruity dishes over spicy meat dishes.

• Very good girl. Will lay her head in Britt's lap to nap.

• Pat that head. She loves pats.

• She lacks elegance and is very clumsy. She trips over her own feet quite often.

• She's self-conscious, so please tell her she's adorable. We need to boost that confidence.

• She's very powerful in battle, packing moves like Outrage, Swords Dance, Earthquake and Poison Jab, but she's usually the last resort pokémon. She's aware of her strength, and she doesn't want to harm others.

• When she was an Axew, she had the habit of hiding behind Britt whenever strangers approached. She's a bit too big to do that anymore, but she still does it, even if you can plainly see the huge Haxorous behind Britt.

• It's cute, really.

♡ Nully

• Nully is very wary of others and still has a hard time trusting others.

• Unless another pokémon of the team comes up to them, they don't really talk to other pokémon.

• It's not because they don't like the others! They just prefer to keep to themself. They really do respect every other pokémon on the team and will absolutely defend them with their life.

• All other pokémon of the team treat them with respect and they have become the team leader, which is a title that Nully is rather fond of.

• Nully actually likes having a cutesy nickname over having a threatening name as they want to be seen as more than just a freaky fighting machine.

• They mainly run the Poison Disk. They know how much Britt loves Poison-types, and they wanted to make her happy. They ended up really liking the Poison Disk, however, due to how many resistances they have because of it.

• When Britt is running with her shiny team, Nully likes to stay out of their Poké Ball. They always want to be by her side and make sure that she is safe.

• Nully is extremely close to Britt. After all, she saved them and gave them a better life. They have a lot of respect, love and admiration for what she did for them.

• As a Type: Null, they were very difficult. They were always cowering in a corner in a very defensive posture and wouldn't hesitate to attack if Britt got to close.

• It took a lot of patience and empathy to reach out to them, but Nully is glad that she did.

• Nully genuinely gets upset when other trainers call them a freak. It's not their fault that they were created that way.

• It's okay. Britt will fistfight anyone who insults her baby.

• Britt doesn't want to play favourites, buuuuuut... Nully ♡

♡ Dumpling

• Dumpling is more elegant than you will ever be. Deal with it.

• Seriously, she never misses a beat in whatever she's doing. She's the complete opposite of her trainer where she's absolutely not clumsy and Britt is, well... Britt.

• She acts like she's too sophisticated to battle, but no one is fooled by that. Everyone knows that she enjoys a good ass-whoopin'.

• Dumpling enjoys high-quality food and is a very picky eater. She won't accept anything lower than a Copperajah Class dish.

• Dumpling has good taste in fashion and has a very strong opinion on Britt's fashion choices. She's often out of her Poké Ball whenever Britt is shopping for some help on choosing an outfit.

• Since Britt's fashion sense is... fairly lacking, Dumpling often blows a bit of snow/ice in her trainer's face to voice her disapproval whenever she judges that the chosen outfit is ugly and/or unfit for the occasion.

• However, Dumpling and Britt are very close and share a strong girl's bond. Their bond can rival the one that Britt and Nully have.

• After all, Britt raised Dumpling from an egg, so she's practically a mother to Dumpling.

• Speaking of which, she gets along very well with Nully. She's one of the few pokémon that Nully will voluntarily speak to.

• She's often seen perched on Britt's head or on Nully's back.

• When she was a baby Snom, she used to tuck herself in Britt's pockets, but she's obviously too big for that anymore. That's why she goes for Britt's head instead, which is fine as she weighs nothing.

• She's a night owl and will often wander about at night when everyone is sleeping.

• If Britt is travelling at night, she'll follow along outside of her Poké Ball to enjoy the nighttime with her trainer.

• She's very fond of music, especially soft piano tunes.

• It doesn't come as much of a surprise that she loves a good singing voice, her cry is very melodic.

• If she was human, she'd most likely sing like an angel.

♡ Red Death

• Don't let his name fool you, he's very calm and very difficult to annoy. It really takes a lot to phase him.

• Well, unless you're battling against him, of course.

• Unlike Britt's other Gyarados (Wrath), he's very obedient and easy to control.

• Red Death and Wrath do not get along. At all. Their personalities are much too different.

• Wrath sees Red Death as a rival that he needs to dethrone, while Red Death sees Wrath as a childish brute.

• He's much more mature and wiser than a good portion of Britt's pokémon.

• He's often meditating or practicing his Dragon Dances in a lake.

• 100% has a crush on Shortcake.

• He's extremely protective of the shy dragon. He's constantly staring at her or playing with her.

• They always look so happy to be in each other's company.

• They're probably secretly together.

• He doesn't hate Lucian, but RD's patience is always on thin ice when it comes to the arrogant Sylveon.

• He's usually the one to put Lucian back in his place. A few Waterfalls never hurt anyone, right?

• Right?

• Since Gyarados are notorious for being violent, people are usually very wary around him.

• He doesn't understand why. He's calm and clearly not displaying any form of anger, so what's the issue?

• He doesn't notice that his face is naturally contorted into an expression of pure fury.

• It's okay, those who are close to him know better.

• He's a good boy who will give you piggyback rides along bodies of water and genuinely enjoys playing in the water with his trainer.

• Sometimes, he'll use his tail to splash Britt, forgetting that he's 6.5 meters long and absolutely sends her flying across the water.

• It's all in good fun though. No offence taken or harm done.

♡ Snuggles

• The baby of the group.

• Everyone loves Snuggles.

• It's impossible to dislike Snuggles.

• It's illegal to dislike him.

• Even Lucian likes him.

• Snuggles is very oblivious to his surroundings and will bump into everything whenever he's rolling around.

• He only has one brain cell that pings around his head like a windows screen saver.

• He's cute, so it's forgivable.

• He's pure and untainted by the ugliness of the world. The team wants to keep him innocent.

• He has never shown interest in evolving, so he's an overpowered level 100 ball of fluffy destruction.

• He actually loves to battle and thinks that they are very fun!

• Britt loves to use him in battle to add salt to the stinging wound of defeat.

• Not many people can keep their pride intact after being yeeted to the next century by a dopey-looking Wooloo.

• Leon still has nightmares about Snuggles.

• Loves to cuddle his trainer at night to keep her warm.

• He really is the best blanket.

• He needs to be brushed at least twice a day. Gotta keep that wool nice and shiny!

• He wears a soothe bell around his neck outside of battle but has an eviolite during battles. Bulky and friendly ball of floof!

• Don't you dare insult him!

• It's not that you'll hurt his feelings, insults fly way over his head.

• But you'll personally offend an angry short stack of a trainer, a sea serpent, a dragon, a frozen moth, a man-made fighting machine and a pretty boy.

• Snuggles is loved. Very much.

[keroujack]

ask me if i do this every day

Steve’s not surprised. Not really. It’s 10 PM on a cool March Thursday. He’s locked in his room writing a paper he should have finished three weeks ago instead of waiting until the night before to do it. But he’s an idiot and he always waits until the night before. Suffers immensely because of it.

So no, he’s not really surprised when his phone lights up with a text from Billy, who had finished the paper days ago and wanted to see a movie, rolled his eyes when Steve told him why he couldn’t at his locker earlier that afternoon.

He’s not surprised either that the text doesn’t say anything, it’s just a link to a playlist on Spotify. It’s called “i’m sick of steve harrington listening to shitty music” and the icon is a truly awful picture of Steve that Billy had taken at the diner a few weeks ago. His hair’s flying in about 400 different directions and he’s got no less than 17 French fries shoved in his mouth.

Which, you know, Billy had dared him to do.

“Bet you can’t fit 15 at once.”

“Watch me, dickhead,” Steve had said, pulled the plate of fries they’d been sharing closer to his side of the booth. “And you’re paying for my food if I can.”

“You’re on.”

15 kept his wallet full, two extra proved a point.

It’s a bad picture. Steve laughs anyway.

For the most part, the playlist is pretty typical. Predictable. A lot of loud shit, the kind that makes Steve’s ears hurt a little bit, though, not exactly in a bad way. There’s also a lot of indie nonsense Steve doesn’t entirely recognize, thinks maybe he’s heard the songs once or twice when Billy’s had control over the aux, but not so many times that he knows what the songs or the bands are called. 

There’s only one song that’s any different. One. Sticks out like a sore thumb. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_gxp28AgLA)

Steve’s pretty quick to look and see who it is. Laughs when he does. Gets halfway to texting Billy, “the weeknd is mainstream asshole”, because Billy says it all the time.

“You’re too mainstream, Harrington. Way too mainstream, I mean, Christ. Don’t you ever listen to anything that’s not Top 100?”

And Steve can hear it. Can hear the exasperation, the annoyance. The way Billy goes a little huffy when he thinks he’s right, when he thinks Steve is being ridiculous. 

His thumbs hover over the letters, over send, ready to be right and rag on Billy for the rest of the night, but then the lyrics start. And he stops.

Because suddenly the song’s got his full attention and he’s listening now.

Like. Really listening.   

And the whole thing-the music, the beat, the words-well, it paints a picture. A vivid picture. One that sends a warm flush up his neck, makes his eyes go a little wide, his mouth a little dry.

It’s dirty. The song. And it’s not that Billy doesn’t listen to songs that are dirty. Steve knows he does. Has balked more than once at the lyrics Billy hums under his breath, low and lazy and way too downright obscene for something like lounging next to Steve’s pool on a calm Sunday morning.

It’s more that Steve’s not expecting a song like this at, now, 11 PM on a Thursday on a playlist made for him by his best friend.

What makes it worse is that it’s easy, almost too easy, the way Steve can see it. See him.

Billy.

Often.

The short mess of blond curls that fall across his forehead after practice every day. The bright blue eyes that cut across a classroom where the teacher no longer allows them to sit next to one another. The sharp curl of his lips around a white-hot smile when he thinks Steve’s said something funny.

The broad line of his shoulders, bare, hard, like the muscles that stretch across his chest, his arms, his back. Stretches endlessly for miles and miles and sometimes Steve wonders, quietly, and only to himself, what it would be like to trace along them all with the tip of his finger.

Often.

The image evolves before he can help it.

He can see Billy’s lips, but now they’re pressed to smooth skin, dark stubble rough against it, rougher against the moan that comes from above him, long, high, breathy. The fan of his eyelashes is thick against his cheeks, eyes closed, focused, devoted. The hand in his hair is slender, thin, twists, tightens as he presses slow kisses down a soft, delicate stomach, lower, lower, lower.

Often.

Steve closes his eyes, tries to wipe the thought away with it, wants to wipe the slate clean. But Billy’s still there. Steve still sees him. Sees his head between a pair of pale thighs, kissing the inside of one, the inside of the other, dragging his lips, trailing his tongue. Working up the long, warm line of tense muscle, inching, closer, closer, closer.

Do it how I want it.

By the time the song’s over, Steve’s laptop has gone black, paper long forgotten. His breathing’s gone heavy, pulse quick, jeans way too tight.

He pushes at his eyes with the heels of his hands because what the fuck-what the fuck?

Since when do those thoughts wear Billy’s face?

The next song, back to loud and abrasive, does a good job of wiping the music from his mind, but the image sticks. Makes it hard to focus. Hard to write about The Iliad and the inherent tragedy of a fate you can’t avoid.

He wants to text Billy, wants to beg him for a copy of his paper-like he always does-so that he can rewrite Billy’s thoughts to sound like his own. Wants nothing more than to be done with this already and go to sleep. 

But he can’t. He really can’t.

Can’t even bring himself to answer when it’s Billy that texts him first. Just a simple, “wyd im bored” but it’s still got Steve’s hands shaking. He damn near puts the phone through the wall when he throws it onto his bed before he can respond.

Before he can say something stupid.

For all the distraction finishing his paper is able to provide, fitful, restless sleep brings the images back. Makes sweat drip at his temple, makes his hands curl into the sheets.

Gives him a reason to spend fifteen extra minutes in the shower before he goes downstairs for breakfast. 

Steve still feels like he’s flushed, like he’s exposed when Billy’s shoulder knocks into the locker next to his that morning. Backpack slung easy over one shoulder, Henley done low, collar spread wide over his chest.

“So?” he asks, rests his temple against the cool metal as he watches Steve struggle to shove a textbook in his bag. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Like what,” Billy repeats, a bit of a scoff, a laugh mixed in with the words. “The playlist, dumbass. What’d you think?”

Often.

Steve can feel the word sitting on his tongue.

“Loud,” he says instead, smiles when Billy narrows his eyes. “It wasn’t bad, but you still listen to too much of that metal garbage.”

“Oh get the fuck out of my face with that ‘metal garbage’ nonsense,” Billy spits, without venom.

Steve takes that as his chance to lean in close. “What was that? Sorry, you’ll have to say it again. My ears are still bleeding.”

Billy reaches out, flicks his ear at that. Steve smacks his hand away, closes his locker with a slam, a laugh that comes as naturally breathing.

They walk to class. The day goes on.

Steve can’t stop thinking about that song.

Often.

He can hear it.

Hears the echoes in the curl of Billy’s hand around the strap of his backpack. In the twist of his fingers when he leans down to tie his shoe. The sweat that glides along the plane of his back at practice. The strip of skin on his stomach that peeks out when he leans back in his desk and stretches.

It’s everywhere.

Often.

Three days of this and Steve feels like he’s beginning to lose his mind. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday pass in a blur of daydreams, a haze of images he shouldn’t still be ale to see this clearly.

Shouldn’t be so easy for the daydreams to shift, to evolve.

For the body beneath Billy’s to no longer belong to some nameless, pretty face. For it to belong to Steve. For it to be him Billy’s looking up at. His stomach Billy’s kissing down. His thighs Billy’s there between. 

Mornings wake him with a gasp, with ragged breaths and goose bumps that ripple up and down his arms, his spine. A flush that spreads along his neck like wildfire and a throb between his legs so strong that he can’t help but slip a hand below his waistband. 

Do it how I want it.

His heart climbs up into his throat on Thursday night. Billy’s sitting in the passenger seat, phone pillowed in his lap, aux cord firmly attached because, “I can’t deal with your mainstream shit today, pretty boy. Not a fuckin’ chance.”

They’re on their way to the diner for milkshakes after practice, both beyond starving and craving something a little sweet after two and a half hours of basketball and getting screamed at.

Often. 

Steve’s heart climbs into his throat and his stomach drops because, just like that, the song is on. The song is on and it’s started and Billy’s tapping his finger in time with it against the window. Steve feels the words wrap around him, hardly has time to even process how he’s going to exist in the same space as Billy for the next four minutes when he realizes Billy is humming.

He’s goddamn humming and Steve swears he can see Billy looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Feels his cheeks go a little pink, feels his hands tighten around the steering wheel with a grip that hurts.

They’re the longest four minutes of Steve’s natural born life.

He convinces himself that it’ll get better after that. That food and company and conversation will be more than an adequate amount of distractions, but he’s wrong. It’s almost like the diner makes it worse.

They’re sitting across from each other in a small, familiar booth along the windows. The place is fairly crowded, which isn’t weird considering the dinnertime rush here is known for that. Their legs are too long beneath the table and Billy’s knees nudge at his when they settle in, warm, snug. Sets Steve’s skin on fire. 

There’s already a shared plate of fries between them when the waitress comes back with their milkshakes. Chocolate for Steve. Strawberry for Billy.

When Billy’s lips wrap around the straw, Steve’s breath catches and suddenly he realizes he should have said no when Billy asked if he wanted to get food. He should have said no. This was a mistake.

Because now he’s trapped here, in this booth. With Billy’s knees knocking into his and his pretty pink lips around a straw and his cheeks hollowed in the exact same way Steve can see every time he closes his eyes. Hollow around him.

It’s too real now. Too real and too much. Way too much. 

He tries his best to hide his face in his glass. Tries to focus on his shake and hide the fact that he’s not breathing. Not looking as he listens to Billy talk between sips. Nods. Doesn’t really trust his voice at a time like this. When his heart’s racking behind his ribs like they’d only just finished sprints and his mind is cloudy like he’d walked through a wall of smoke.

He’s still not sure he’s breathing by the time they’re back in the car. Steve has to drive Billy back to pick up his car from the school and without the noise of the crowded diner to fill pauses, the silence becomes more noticeable. Thicker. Tenser. 

Especially because Billy doesn’t take the aux again. He doesn’t even turn on the radio. Just sits and drums on the window, jiggles his knee.

Steve is wound so tight he’s afraid he’s going to explode.

The silence doesn’t end when they get to the school, isn’t cut off by the loud slam of the passenger side door.

No. Billy doesn’t move to get out at all. In fact, he does the opposite, turns away from the door, turns towards Steve. Faces him. Steve keeps his body square to the wheel.

The sharp breath Billy lets out is harsh in his ears. “So are you gonna tell me what the fuck’s got you so weird or am I gonna have to ask?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve swallows hard when the words make Billy laugh. Doesn’t really understand why.

“Steve,” Billy says, and that’s when Steve knows he’s fucked. Well and truly fucked. “What’s the problem?”

And Billy knows something is wrong. Always knows it. Has known it since Steve got pushed off the swings by Tyler Boyd in the fourth grade. Billy had only been in school a week, had only just moved from California, but Steve had scrapes all over his legs, was fighting back tears when he said, “It doesn’t hurt that bad.” Had hardly even gotten the words out before Billy tackled Tyler Boyd and pinned him to the blacktop. He wasn’t allowed back outside for recess for two weeks, but Steve started sitting next to him at lunch and that was about as good as a blood pact in their young, adolescent minds.

Stuck together forever.

It’s then that Steve looks at him, realizes Billy is so much closer than his peripheral vision had led him to believe. He’s got one elbow on the center console, his other arm out long, hand on the dashboard, angled completely in Steve’s direction.

Steve still hasn’t said anything, can’t with Billy’s eyes on him like this. With Billy so close. The car so quiet.

Billy’s laugh is softer this time, comes when Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, feels the pinch that’s caught between his brows.

“What?” Billy asks, the word even softer than the laugh. Small. Encouraging.

Steve can’t help the way his eyes fall to greet it.

“You’re not allowed to hate me.” 

It’s the first thing he’s said in a while and it’s low, totally miss-able. But Billy never misses anything. Flinches a little when Steve says it.

“Hate you?” he asks, something like disbelief pulling at his tone. “Why would I-”

Steve leans over and presses his lips to Billy’s before he can finish the question, forgets the words in favor of a tiny hmmph of a noise somewhere in the back of his throat.

Which gives way to total silence.

And Steve’s going to pull away. It’s been at least ten seconds and Billy hasn’t moved and Steve’s going to pull away. Going to get out of the car, dig a large hole, fall into it, and die. 

But that thought only last as long as it takes Billy’s hand to find his jaw. It grounds him, holds him, keeps him there like Billy knows exactly what he’s thinking. It’s Billy that moves first, tips his head a little, brushes his lips over Steve’s and smoothes his thumb along his cheekbone.

Steve falls into it like they’ve been doing this forever, lets his hand go to the side of Billy’s neck, follows as Billy guides him. Moves with him. Breathes with him.

He tastes like strawberry when he opens his mouth and Steve can’t quite believe he ever thought milkshakes were a bad idea.

Steve’s pretty sure the soft smack that separates their lips, only barely, is going to be burned into his memory until the day he dies. That. The fan of Billy’s eyelashes, still flush with his cheeks, and the bow of his lips, still parted just slightly.

Billy’s slow to open his eyes, only gets them about halfway there when push comes to shove. Just like when he’s waking up. When they accidentally fall asleep on the couch during a movie and suddenly his breath catches. When he keeps his eyes half lidded and lets consciousness creep in like hunger.

Billy’s looking at his lips when he says, “Yeah?” Breathless. Maybe a little beautiful.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want the words to take this away.

But they don’t. He says it and Billy doesn’t move, hardly bats an eyelash.

Is actually kind of smiling.

Steve can’t help but kiss him again, laughs when Billy whispers, “Backseat’s probably a lot better for this,” against his lips. Lets Billy drag him into the back and feels that heat spread low when Billy climbs into his lap and ducks his head to pick up where they left off. Like they’ve been doing this forever.

Steve wants this to be forever. Wants Billy to be forever.

Always.

Often.

[mitchsmarners]

I want these words to make things right (but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] rating: teen & up word count: 10,531 summary: Richie Tozier runs an anonymous tip for superheroes in the town of New York City. Sounds like a great idea, until you throw in the ex boyfriend superhero he's still in love with, and the weird blue eyed man who somehow figured out the man behind the blog ⤹ a NOT birthday fic for the lovely leigh (@s-s-georgie) 

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @isaacslaheys, @s-s-georgie, @transrich@eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @starrystoziers, @trashmouthtozierr, @willelbyers​ @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

read on ao3

Spotted!: The one and only FlyBoy, rescuing not one, not two, but six students of New York University from a late night fire in the little coffee shop down on Old Broadway. Damages to the building were extensive- and it’s going to be closed for a very long, unknown future- but nobody was harmed thanks to our very own eye in the sky. FlyBoy, we salute you and I think we can speak for everybody when we say that we sleep better knowing you’re out there. 

Richie sent out the blast, still smiling at his phone. He’d barely even opened his eyes when he’d rolled over to grab his phone, which wasn’t anything abnormal. Richie ran one of the most popular blogs in New York City, completely anonymously. It had started out as his own interests, keeping taps on all the iconic heroes of their great and crime ridden city. It had quickly grown in regular viewers and subscribers, everybody realizing how coinvient it was to one location with all the information. More reliable information than the actual news, if Richie did say so himself.

“Really? FlyBoy again?” Richie’s roommate, Beverly Marsh, barged into Richie’s bedroom without knocking. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too hung up on this guy? You’re running an update blog, not a FlyBoy fanblog.”

“FlyBoy is the guy to watch for.” Richie shrugged as he rolled out his bed, reaching out blindly for his glasses that he’d left on his bedside table. Beverly was standing at the edge of his bed with her hands on his hips. “Why are you looking at me like that, Mom?”

Beverly grabbed an NYU crewneck off the floor and threw it over his head. “FlyBoy isn’t the only superhero in the city, Richie! You’re falling off your brand and you’re going to lose your following. And in case you hadn’t noticed, your following pays most of our bills.” 

Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed his lucky jeans off the floor and slipped into them without changing his boxers, getting a little too much enjoyment out of Beverly’s cringe. “Would you chill out? I’m still just reporting the news, Bev. It’s not like anything else happened last night.”

“Dr Incredible stopped a bank robbing,” Beverly pointed out without even needing to look at her phone. “You didn’t say anything about that. Not to mention- Captain Fast literally saved an entire family from plunging off a bridge in their car last night. You know, Eddie Kaspbrak? Your best friend? The love of your life? I think maybe that would be a little newsworthy, don’t you?”

Richie scraped his black curls into a bun at the top of his head and started throwing textbooks into his backpack. “Beverly, I have had my eyes open for all of ten minutes, and seven of them have been you lecturing me on how to run a blog. I will post the rest of the events from last night and anything that happened this morning on the way to class that I need to go to. Because I have a life, so unless you wanna take over all the blog responsibilities… get off my dick.” 

Beverly scoffed as Richie pushed past her out the door to his room, shouting at him that there was brewed coffee on the counter even as they both knew that Richie was going to be stopping at Starbucks for something that was more sugar and syrup than actual caffeine. 

Richie went to the same Starbucks every morning before class, and every evening after classes let out. Stanley from his Psychology 101 worked there, and he never failed to give Richie shit about his nasty habits. He was a scrawny man, with tight curls. He was always well dressed under his work apron, light coloured button ups and pressed jeans. He always looked so put together and proper that Richie wanted to frazzle him and mess him up completely.

Stan’s customer service happy expression dropped into a look of disdain. “You’re back. Again.”

“Everyday, Stanny, you know me.” Richie leaned against the counter and winked at the unimpressed barista. Stan turned away from him, putting Richie’s regular order into the register. “Gotta get that caffeine fix.”

“I’d hardly call this caffeine by any means.” Stan let out a scoff as he finished ringing up the order. Richie handed Stanley the cash, and tried to chase the barista down the line in the process of making Richie’s entirely familiar order.

“You can’t lean over the counter like that.” Stan said in a low, bored tone. “You know, you’re lucky it's in my job description to be nice to you.” 

Richie chuckled, watching as Stan applied a double spray of whipped cream that Richie certainly hadn’t paid for. “If this is you being nice to me, I would hate to see you mean.”

“Yes, you would.” Stan placed Richie’s pale drink down onto the counter and slid a straw over to Richie without Richie needing to ask. Richie grinned, and took a long, overly dramatic sip before turning away. He nursed the drink throughout his short walk to his campus building, and tossed it- half finished- into the garbage before ducking into his lecture hall. He slid into his regular seat in the far left side of the hall, then frowned as somebody sat down on the other side of him. 

It was a cute enough guy, with soft brown hair that flopped into his face. His eyes were an icy blue and there was a scar running through one eyebrow. Richie felt goosebumps jump up on his forearms as the boy stared at him.

“You’re R-R-Richie T-Tozier, right?” Bill said, voice pleasant even in the low tone. It soothed Richie in an odd way, and he felt himself lowering his guard even as he wondered why he was doing it. 

“Yeah…” Richie said slowly, lifting his pen towards his mouth and biting down on the bottom end. “And you are?”

“My name is B-B-ill.” He said, before glancing over his shoulder. He bit down on his bottom lip and leaned in closer to Richie’s space. “You’re the runner of Spotted!, right? The superhero tracker blog?”

Richie blinked at him. His teeth threatened to break through the plastic of his pen. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked forward at the professor, droning on about something Richie couldn’t care less about, especially with how his heart was pounding in his chest. “Sorry, man. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” 

Even as Richie refused to let his gaze waver from the front of the room, he could feel how Bill’s eyes continued to burn into the side of his head. “Well.” Bill said, voice somehow seeming much closer to Richie’s ears than he felt it should be. “If you a-ar-are the m-man behind the sc-screen, I th-thought you sh-should know that Pr-Professor Fly will make an app-appearance tonight.”

Richie jerked his head to look at Bill, but the other guy was already standing and making his way through the lecture hall. He didn’t even turn around as Richie unabashedly stared at him. Professor Fly had once been the biggest, most known superhero on the NYC scene. Along with the flight powers that his name implied, he’d also been strong and fast. He’d had a plethora of powers, so many it was beyond abnormal. Nearly three years ago, Professor Fly had stepped onto the scene with a mentee- none other than FlyBoy- and only six months after that he’d completely dropped off the face of the Earth. FlyBoy continued to work in the city, and make a bigger and bigger name for himself, but Professor Fly had not been seen in over two full years. 

It was juicy information, no doubt. The kind that made Richie’s stomach tense up and his palms sweat. If Professor Fly was coming out of retirement, that could only mean somehow seriously Bad was on the scene. But Richie didn’t run a gossip blog, and he would never post something he didn’t have any proof on. Not even something as huge as a potential Professor Fly comeback.

Spotted! Just a little  recap of last night’s busy activities in the city that never sleeps: Dr Incredible bringing a bank robbery to a skidding halt, making sure all our favourite rich bitches and Wall Street moneybags have their millions safe for another day! Thanks, dude! And OF COURSE, the adorable and flawless Captain Fast saving an entire family from certain doom, and looking absolutely mouth watering in that spandex as always while doing it. Keep it up, babe. The public loves you :*

“RICHIE!”

Richie hardly reacted as the apartment door busted open and Eddie Kaspbrak stormed into the living room. His hair was damp, flattened to his forehead from the rain outside. The same rain that had left stains all over his grey NYU shirt and blue jeans. His fists were tightened at his sides, and he looked absolutely adorable.

“How can I be of service, dear Edward?” Richie asked, punching at the buttons of his xBox controller. Eddie stomped forward and grabbed it from his hands, tossing it across the room. “Hey! What the fuck?”

“You can’t fucking flirt with me on your stupid blog!” Eddie cried, running his hands through his hair. “Okay? People are gonna… they could figure out who you are if you keep doing that!”

Richie sat up straight on the couch. “Okay, do you know how little sense that makes, right? I make flirtatious comments about every hero I post about. Except Dr Incredible, I think guys a fucking sham.” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie carried on over him. “And even if I did flirt with you more than the other heroes, they’d still need to know who you are to connect the dots to me. So take a breath. If you don’t want people commenting on your spandex, don’t wear it.”

“This isn’t about spandex.” Eddie said, though Richie could see that the anger he’d been wrapped up in when he’d come into the apartment was quickly seeping out of him. “This is about you. I don’t want you in danger, Richie.”

“You’ve made that beyond clear, Eds.” Richie stood and stretched his hands above his head. “It’s pretty much all I’ve heard from you.”

“Rich…” Eddie said sadly, but if there had been anything further to that sentence it evaporated right from Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie and Richie were diaper buddies, a real sandbox love. Richie couldn’t remember a point in his life without Eddie in it. They’d grown up inseparable, and Richie still remembered vividly when they’re relationship had begun to grow into something more. Junior year of high school, when Richie finally, finally found the nerve to ask Eddie out on an official date. And the next couple weeks after that were bliss in a way that Richie had never known. Until suddenly, Eddie had started blowing him off. Cancelling dates, and dodging Richie’s calls. When Richie had moved to confront Eddie about his behaviour, to beg him to at least end it and not keep him hanging on, Richie had learned the truth of Eddie’s powers. Apparently, it ran in his family and his mother had tried her hardest to keep it from Eddie, in desperate hopes that Eddie would be different but the powers can come nonetheless. Some smaller ones- a heightened sense of touch, and an acute sense of knowledge of a person or object by touch which Richie lovingly called his Vibe Checks- and of course, his speed. Eddie had always been a fast runner, ever since they were kids, and he had been shaping up to be a big track star before the Powers had appeared to him. Afterwards, however, Eddie could run the length of the entirety of the country in mere seconds. 

They’d stayed up together that whole night, talking and crying and kissing, and they’d felt so good about everything. Richie thought having a superhero boyfriend was maybe the coolest thing that could ever happen to anybody, even if he wasn’t allowed to tell another living being. While still living in Derry, things hadn’t been so different with Eddie having powers. Things really changed when they moved out to New York City. Richie had always known Eddie was a good person, the best person, but he’d never accounted for how Eddie’s powers would come into play when they were suddenly in a city with other Supers and a sky high crime rate. 

They’d tried to make it work, Richie beyond supportive in Eddie’s crime fighting causes. (Hello, superhero boyfriend? Still the coolest shit ever!) but one misstep, one single incident where Richie’s safety had been put on the line, and Eddie had stopped them in their tracks. It hadn’t even been because of Eddie’s identity, Richie had been in a strictly wrong place wrong time sort of situation but Eddie had lost it. Claimed that their relationship was a liability for Eddie, that Richie was Eddie’s biggest weakness and that Eddie couldn’t risk Richie’s safety like that. Richie had argued tooth and nail, claiming that breaking up didn’t mean that they weren’t in love and that Eddie shouldn’t be giving up his personal life for these powers but it had fallen on deaf ears. Eddie had packed up his belongings and left their shared apartment. They’d tried to stay friends, but the love between them kept things strained. 

Richie padded into the kitchen and grabbed a can of pop from the fridge. He offered one up to Eddie, who shook his head as Richie knew that he would. He hopped up onto one of the seats on the counter and stared Eddie down. Eddie leaned forward on his elbows. 

“We can’t keep having this same argument, Richie.” Eddie said in his prim and rehearsed voice. “It’s not because I don’t love you-”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly. “God, you just said we can’t keep this argument. I don’t need to hear this fucking speech again. You gave it to me when we broke up, you gave it to me six months ago on my birthday after we got drunk and-” Richie broke off and exhaled hard. “I’m sorry I talked about your spandex on my blog, I’ll try to tone down the flirting when I talk about you.”

“No.” Eddie sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “I overreacted. You didn’t say anything you wouldn’t have said about anybody else on there. And you’re right, people would need to know who I am to connect you to me. And nobody knows who either of us are.”

Richie blew out a long breath, flicking his thumb against the tab of his pop can. “Actually, Eds… somebody might know who I am. So, yeah, I should be more careful when talking about you on there. You’re the one who was right as usual.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and he pushed away from the table to round on Richie. He grabbed him by his shoulders and forced Richie to meet his gaze. “Richie. What are you talking about.”

“I’m not really sure, honestly, it was weird.” Richie ducked out of Eddie’s touch, frowning as the memory of his class that morning washed back over him. “It was some.. Guy in my theory of screenwriting lecture? He just sat down beside me and he addressed me by name and then asked if I was the one who wrote Spotted!. I told him I wasn’t, because you and Bev are both always on my ass about keeping it a secret, and then he told me…”

Richie stopped and looked up at Eddie. Eddie stared back at him, holding Richie’s eye line longer than he had in the two years since they’d called an end to their romantic relationship. “What, Rich? What did he say?”

“He said that Professor Fly would be making an appearance tonight.”

Eddie’s expression remained blank for several moments before the usual chaotic energy took him back over. “Why would he say that? How does he know that? How does he know you? There’s no way that’s true, nobody has heard anything from Professor Fly for almost three years. Not even FlyBoy knows where he is, he’s retired. There’s nothing he’d come back for, not unless it was the end of the world big. Is this the end of the world big? Richie?”

“I don’t know, Eds. He didn’t give me an itinerary for the night's events.” Richie said. “I think he just wanted me to post it on my blog like I’m some sort of gossip column. It’s not a big deal.” But Eddie didn’t look convinced and Richie could practically hear the little hamster wheel in his head running. “Unless you know something that’s going to happen tonight?”

“No.” Eddie said immediately, shaking his head. “I haven’t heard anything besides minor crimes and car accidents the last couple weeks. It’s been… almost too calm. I don’t like the sound of this guy, Richie, and I definitely don’t like what he’s suggesting. I’m gonna- I’m gonna talk to some people. Don’t leave this apartment and don’t post on Spotted! until I get back.” 

“You’re not my boss!” Richie cried as Eddie tore out of his apartment like a tornado. 

Eddie returned quickly, as Eddie was prone to do. He stumbled into the apartment as dusk began to settle outside, a tray of coffees in his hands. “Okay, we only have a few hours to figure this out.” 

Beverly had been just getting into the apartment when Eddie had come in and nearly crushed her behind the door. She frowned as Eddie handed her one of the steaming paper cups and somebody came into the apartment behind him.

“Stan from Starbucks?” Richie asked with a frown, watching as Stan and another tall, black man he didn’t recognize came into his apartment. “Eds, I get you wanted coffee or whatever but you don’t need to bring the store back with you.”

Stan placed the only non-hot beverage down onto the counter. “I’m going to tell you something, and you need to promise not to be weird about it.” Richie stared at Stan with his drink raised half way up to his lips, and Stan let out a low sigh. “I’m FlyBoy.”

Richie whipped around to glare at Eddie, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “FlyBoy has been Stan from Starbucks this entire fucking time, and you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“It isn’t exactly my secret to tell anybody.” Eddie said with a chill to his voice. “And honestly, even if I could have told you, I wouldn’t have. You have a weird crush on him and the last thing we need is you running off and getting some high stress relationship with a superhero.”

A superhero who isn’t me. Eddie maybe didn’t say it, maybe wasn’t even aware that he’d implied the words at all, but Richie heard them perfectly clear. Richie scoffed, dropping his drink onto the counter and stepping away from the group just slightly. “You don’t really get any say in who I do or don’t like, Eddie. It’s actually none of your business at all.”

“It is if it’s something that’s going to put you in danger, Richie!” Eddie snapped back, hand cutting through the air. A manic gesture of Eddie’s that Richie usually found cute, but could only manage to find irritating in this moment. “You put yourself in harms way enough with this stupid blog and just even knowing me, I would never let you-”

“Let me? Let me?” Richie chuckled humorlessly. “You are not the boss of me, Eddie. You’re not my parents, you’re my boyfriend. So, thank you very much for all the over the top concern about whether or not I’m getting myself into trouble but I’m going to have to politely tell you to mind your fucking business for once in your life.”

Eddie gaped at him, almost forming words before losing them again. The black man who had come into the apartment with Eddie and Stan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but this seems like a pretty serious personal issue, and we have something important we need to handle, so...”

“Yes.” Eddie said, voice cracking. Richie glanced at him and tried not to let the hint of tears that were pooling in Eddie’s eyes. “Richie, this is Mike Hanlon. You probably know him as-”

“Freezie.” Mike held his hand out and Richie only hesitated for a moment before Mike laughed. “Don’t worry, man. I have to actually want to turn you into ice for it to happen. Though I do have some horror stories when I first started developing my powers, I’m not gonna lie.” 

“Mr Medusa.” Richie said with a grin, gripping Mike’s hand firmly and giving a body moving shake.  Mike gave a laugh while both Stan and Eddie rolled his eyes at his antics. 

“You know how misleading that nickname is, right?” Stan asked dryly. “Mike turns people to ice with his hands, Medusa turned people to stone by looking at them and her head full of snakes. It’s really not even that close of a comparison, it just implies you don’t know anything about Greeky mythology.”

“Excuse me, I’m a gay Gen Z. Of course I fucking know Greek mythology. I read Percy Jackson.” Richie said with a wave of his hand. Stan gaped at him for a moment before Eddie blew the wrapper from Richie’s straw at Richie’s head. 

“He’s also a fucking Ancient Civilization minor.” Eddie said in a mixture of fondness and irritation. “Don’t let him fool you with his stupidity, he’s actually incredibly smart.” 

“Okay, yeah, this is great.” Beverly spoke up suddenly, dropping her shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. “But do you guys wanna tell me what the hell is going on exactly?”

“Yes, I’d like to know, too.” Stan said, taking a seat at the small, banged up wooden table. “Eddie didn’t exactly give much details as he was superhero sprinting around the Starbucks and making like $30 worth of product he didn't pay for.” 

Eddie waved Stan off. “We might be in for a long night.” He said, dropping into the seat beside Stan. Mike and Beverly both moved to take the last two seats around the table and Richie jumped up to sit on top of the table between Eddie and Stan. He maybe positioned himself a little bit closer to Stan, just to watch Eddie’s jaw clench.

“Richie, why don’t you tell everybody what you told me earlier.” Eddie said in his very best teacher voice. 

Richie sighed. “I still think you’re making too big a deal out of this, Eds, really. But basically some guy came up to me in class today, and accused me of running the Spotted! Blog and then told me that  Professor Fly is going to come back tonight.” 

Stan’s head jerked to look at Richie, eyes wide. “That’s impossible. Who told you this?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t man, some weirdo. Think he said his name was Bill?”

Beverly startled at her seat, knocking one of the coffees to the ground. Everybody turned to look at her and her face had lost nearly all colour. “Uh… did he have a scar running through his eyebrow?” 

“Yeah… how do you know that?” 

Beverly scratched at the side of her neck. “I went on a few dates with him last semester, he's a weird dude. I wouldn’t read too much into this, I’m sure he’s just trying to stir up drama. His brother died when he was young, and he never really got over it.”

A shoulder crossed over Stan’s face and he sighed sadly. “Georgie Denbrough. That was…. A tragedy.” 

Mike and Eddie made matching sympathetic sounds and Richie pulse jumped. “Okay, you all clearly know what the fuck is going on, from your super secret like Justice League meetings or something, but anybody want to catch me up? Who is Georgie Denbrough and what happened to him?”

“Georgie Denbrough was Professor Fly’s biggest shame. His failure as a hero.” Stan said, voice almost completely monotone. “It was just before he started training me to take over for him, I’ve always suspected it was the reason why he was choosing to retire. The Professor was trying to save a group of children from a predator and somehow the battle got really intense. The predator had powers that The Professor hadn’t anticipated, and The Professor’s powers back fired when he tried to catch the man. It caused the building to explode. Most of the children were okay, scrapes and bruises, maybe a broken bone or so, but Georgie Denbrough… He lost an arm in the explosion and he bled out before help could arrive. The boy died and the villain got away. He never really recovered from it.”

“Neither did Bill Denbrough,” Beverly jumped in. “When we were going out, it was pretty much all he talked about. How Professor Fly killed his little brother and ruined Bill’s life. He hates superheroes because of it. He probably doesn't know shit, but at least suspects that Richie knows some heroes and will tell them what he said. It’s a set up.”

Stan nodded. “There’s no way The Professor is going to be out tonight. Nothing would pull him out of retirement, trust me.”

Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Maybe.” He said shortly. “But we don’t know that it’s a trap for us. It’s possible this Bill guy has something planned tonight to try and bring Professor Fly out. We can’t risk people getting hurt because we don’t know what this guy's plan is. I think we should have all hands on deck tonight if we can.”

“Eddie’s right.” Mike said. “Even if it is a trap for us, we agreed to this sort of risk when we started acting as heroes. We knew what we were getting into, we can’t just sit around and do nothing when lives are at risk. Best case scenario, this Bill guy is full of shit and just running his mouth and nothing happens but we need to prepare for the worst.”

“I can’t imagine him going so far out of his way to figure out who’s running that blog just for it to be nothing.” Stan said quietly. 

“Maybe that’s part of the plan,” Richie jumped in. “He wanted me to post about Professor Fly’s return, probably to lure out people and heroes to whatever it was he was going to do. Maybe if I don’t post it then he’ll just drop the whole thing because he’s not getting the audience that he wants.”

“You should post it.” Beverly said suddenly, using some of the shitty dollar store dish cloths to wipe up the spilled coffee all over the floor. A large round of disagreement spread out amongst the heroes until Bev held her hand up for quiet. “I might not know much about this whole superhero world, or whatever, but how are you supposed to catch this guy if he doesn’t go through with his plan? You can’t exactly go after somebody for figuring out that Richie is caught up with superheroes.”

Eddie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “I can fucking try” but none of the heroes had any sort of argument against Beverly’s claims. 

“Spotted! Isn't a gossip column!” Richie cried, tossing his hands in the air, nearly taking Stan’s eye out. “I’m not posting some unfounded bullshit about Professor Fly and killing my brand for this Bill dude’s fucking vandetta.”

“Your blog’s brand is more important to you than saving lives?” Mike asked, giving Richie big, sad puppy eyes.

“We don’t know it’ll save lives!” Richie argued. “For all we know, sending out a blast could be what gets people killed. If you think we should all go out and keep on eye on stuff, then fine but-”

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie cut him off quickly. “What do you mean we? You’re not coming with us if we go out there, Richie. You and Bev aren’t leaving this apartment tonight, you could be a target!”

“YOU’RE NOT MY BOSS!” Richie leapt off the table and stalked away from Eddie, hands trembling at his sides. “I’m so sick of you telling me what I can and can’t do! You can’t control me, Eddie.”

Eddie’s head jerked back as though it had been slapped, and a wounded look crossed his face that Richie wouldn’t let himself feel bad about. “I’m not trying to control you, Richard. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Oh, really?” Richie laughed. “So, you making a point not to tell me you knew who FlyBoy was when you were under the impression I might have a crush on him wasn’t you keeping me safe, and not at all you not wanting me to date somebody that isn’t you.”

Eddie stood up and walked around to where Richie was standing angrily behind the counter. He didn’t touch him but his hands hovered just above Richie’s arms. “I didn’t tell you who FlyBoy was because it's a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like it was really my place to SAY anything to you about it, alright? You can date whoever the fuck you want, obviously, because I didn’t stop you from going on those dates with Connor Whathisfuck last year and I hated that guy so much it actually burned my soul. I want you to be happy, okay? I’d never stop you from dating somebody. Stan is right there if you wanna go ask him out right now, you pleeb.” 

Richie glanced over Eddie’s shoulders at where the people around the table were all staring at them. Stan wrinkled up his nose. “Please don’t.”

Richie rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don’t worry, Stan my Man. If I’d known FlyBoy was somebody as boring as you, I wouldn’t have dedicated so much time to him in the first place.” 

Richie tried to ignore Eddie’s relieved sigh in his ear. 

Eddie didn’t budge on his statement that Richie and Beverly would be staying behind at their apartment, as Richie didn’t budge his refusal to post false information on this blog. “If you want me to make some sort of announcement, it has to be something true. That’s just how it is.”

“You could post about seeing the three of us teaming up.” Mike suggested as Richie was really just focusing on not looking at his bare chest as he changed into his suit. “That will be enough to get the public's attention and let this Bill Denbrough know we’re taking him seriously without having to leak false information about Professor Fly.”

Richie nodded in agreement as Eddie padded over him to his little tight red spandex supersuit. Richie’s breath caught as it always did when he saw Eddie as Captain Fast. “Don’t say anything until you’re sure we’re a decent way away from the apartment. Just because somebody figured out that you run the blog doesn’t mean that we should be leading towards the place you live. Play it safe, Rich.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie waved it off, but they both knew at the end of the day even as much as Richie fought it, he was going to follow Eddie’s advice. As the group moved towards the front door, Eddie suddenly spun around and grabbed hold of Richie’s waist. He tugged him into a tight hug, pressing his face against Richie’s shoulder.

“Please, please, be careful, Rich.” Eddie whispered into Richie’s body. “I have a really bad feeling.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’ll be careful.” Richie squeezed Eddie tightly until the other man pulled back. There was a split second where Richie was certain that Eddie was about to lean in for a kiss. The moment broke as Eddie’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. He pulled the matching red mask over his eyes and followed the rest of Mike and Stan from the apartment. 

Richie wallowed in his poor, confused little gay heart for roughly ten minutes before he took out his phone and sent out the blast. 

Spotted! What must be the coolest new trio in NYC: FlyBoy, Captain Fast and Freezie heading out on the town. Is this just a  (super)mans night out- or is something much more sinister in the works for not so little city? I think we can all only wait and see. This blogger advises his readers to stay home tonight, and keep an eye on the news and little old me for your updates.

Richie didn’t even have a chance to put his phone back into his pocket before Beverly was stomping into the room and tossing a black hoodie over his head. He pulled it away and caught sight of Beverly with her red hair tied up in a long red, curly ponytail. She wore black jeans and black tank top that showed off a black triangle tattoo on her left arm. She raised her brow and nodded at him. “Hurry up, get into something dark and let’s go.”

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Richie said slowly. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Beverly said. “Now hurry up and let's go. We have stuff we have to do.”

“I told Eddie I was gonna stay in the apartment.” Richie said, fidgeting with the fabric of the hoodie in his hands. “I think we-”

“I thought Eddie wasn’t the boss of you.” Beverly said, cocking her brow. Richie’s face burned as he tugged the plain back sweater over his head and put his feet back into messy converse sneakers. Beverly was already halfway down the hallway before Richie was even out of the apartment’s door. When they exited the stairway into the lobby, there was a man waiting there in matching all black outfit with the same triangle tattoo on his left arm. He had thick muscled arms, but chubby cheeks and wide eyes that seemed to still hold onto some sort of childhood innocence. 

Beverly pressed a quick kiss to his lips and Richie blinked. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. The words died on Richie’s tongue as a weird feeling overcame him in that moment. “Richie, this is Ben. Ben, Richie.”

Ben held his hand out and Ben’s shake was warm and firm. Somehow Richie felt like his skin was crawling as Beverly pressed her hands between Richie’s shoulder blades and began to push him out towards the front of the building. 

“I uh” Richie cleared his throat, heart hammering in his chest. “Where are we going? Eddie’s probably right that we should stay inside, we don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Don’t be such a chicken shit.” Beverly grinned at him, and Richie shivered as a chill rushed through his spine. “Aren’t you at all curious about what might be going on? Come on, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re actually a target for anything. Denbrough was probably just trying to use you for your site.”

Immediately, Richie had been curious- almost morbidly so. Until this very moment when all he wanted to do was run back to his apartment and spend the rest of the night hiding under his blankets. But Richie Tozier had never been very good at trusting himself or any of his instincts, and he allowed Beverly and Ben to guide him into the black car parked out front. 

Then didn’t drive far, and pulled up to some sort of abandoned warehouse. Every couple of seconds there was a flash of light from inside the cracked and shattered glass windows. Richie’s breath started catching in his throat with every attempt to breathe. “What- where are we?”

Beverly turned to where Richie was trying to fade into the back seat of the car, and looked almost sad. “I’m sorry, Rich. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” 

xxx

Eddie actually hated wearing spandex, but it was an incredibly durable fabric. With the amount of moving he did, it was the most logical choice in costume. But Eddie was never truly comfortable when in costume.

“If I ask you something, could you answer without getting bitchy?” Stan suddenly whispered in his ear. He, Mike and Eddie had only reached the main core of the Lower West Side. Eddie turned to him and narrowed his eyes as best as he could home to do with a mask covering half his face. “Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?” 

Eddie’s face burned nearly the colour of the suit. He spent the better part of the last two years trying not to think about how he was in love with Richie Tozier and in the last three years, it was the only thing at the front of his mind. “I try not to think about it, honestly, because it’s not an option. I didn’t choose to have these powers, or this life. But as long as I have them, I have to do the right thing. I don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know.” Stan said slowly. “I think you should be able to do what’s best for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m happy enough.” Eddie lied. “Do you think we should split up and cover more ground?”

“Yeah.” Mike jumped in as the conversation changed back into the professional task at hand. “Especially since we don’t really know what the situation is, so keep your ear pieces in and buzz into the others if you come across anything.” 

“Alright,” Stan agreed, though he shot Eddie a this isn’t over look from the corner of his eye. “Eddie and I have a much easier way to travel, so Mike you can stay in this area.” Stan and Eddie agreed on their own sections of the general NYU area- the area that had always been protected by Professor Fly in the height of his career- and Eddie took off running. Eddie had always loved running, and it was the only part of being a hero that he still enjoyed. Sometimes, on nights when Eddie just couldn’t be bothered to care, he’d just run for miles. Just see how far he could go. He’d reached the Canadian border once before he decided it was a waste of his gift. 

Eddie slowed down into a simple walk once he reached his section of town, when somebody reached out and grabbed hold of Eddie’s arm. Eddie gasped at the feeling of utter desperation that sort through him belonging to the person who touched him. A pair of icy blue eyes under a scarred eyebrow met Eddie’s and Eddie’s heart leapt right into his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Denbrough demanded. “You’re not supposed to be here! Didn’t Richie tell you about my warning?”

“Your- your warning?” Eddie squawked. “So, you tracking him down and telling him some bogus tip about Professor Fly was supposed to be a warning? A warning of what- that you’re insane?” 

Denbrough shook his head, brown hair falling into his head. “No. No.” He said desperately, nails digging into Eddie’s skin. “Professor Fly would never return, FlyBoy would know that. Didn’t you tell FlyBoy? It’s a trap, you were all supposed to stay home! You’re all in danger!” 

Eddie tried to pull his arm free but Denbrough’s grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me!” Eddie cried, chest starting to feel the too familiar pressure of an asthma attack- though he hadn’t one a single one since his powers had come in. 

“I k-k-know you have more powers than just sp-speed.” Denbrough said, stepping even further into Eddie’s space and grabbing hold of his other arm. “You can s-s-sense me, r-right? You’ll no-no-know if I’m d-dan-dangerous!” 

Eddie felt a lot of things about Bill Denbrough. Guilt, fear, desperation. There was something bleak and sad under the surface but there was no hint of a threat to him. “What do you want?” Eddie asked in a shaking voice.

Bill Denbrough’s eyes darted around Eddie. “Where’s R-R-Richie? Is he w-w-ith you? Where is h-he?”

“He’s safe.” Eddie promised even as his own heart stuttered and panicked. “He’s back at his apartment with his roommate, they’re both-”

Bill’s eyes widened in horror. “NO! No, you can’t t-t-t-t-fuck- trust Beverly! She’s n-n-not who you think she is!” 

Eddie started shaking his head. “No offence, but I’ve known Beverly for a year and I’ve only known you five minutes and you seem pretty unhinged. Why should I believe you when you say I can’t trust her, if I have no reason to trust you?”

“Have you ever tou-tou-touched her?” Bill demanded. “In the yuh-year you’ve known her, ha-have your body ev-ever even graze-grazed hers?” Eddie opened his mouth but froze. “No. It ha-hasn’t. I know it ha-hasn’t, be-because she knows if you ha-had ever tou-touched her, you’d kn-know the truth about her. And everything would have been ru-ruined.”

Eddie shook his head. “What’s she going to do to him?”

Bill frowned. “This wuh-wuh-wasn’t the plu-plan. I don’t- there’s only one place s-sh-she’d take him. But you have to tr-tr-trust me.”

It wasn’t in Eddie’s nature to be particularly trusting, and Bill wasn’t exactly somebody who was inspiring much benefit of the doubt. But his hands were still digging into Eddie’s arms and the only thing Eddie could sense was fear and deeper down- guilt that Eddie suspected he felt at all times. “Okay.” Eddie said, and as Bill let go of him, Eddie flicked on this ear piece’s speaker. 

Bill didn’t lead Eddie too far away, the pair of them travelling in silence and Eddie secretly wishing that Bill would simply tell him where the location was so Eddie could run there. If something happened to Richie while Eddie was wasting his time walking, he’d never forgive himself. Eventually, Bill led him over to the warehouse with lights that flashed through broken windows. He could make out figures walking around inside as he and Bill attempted to sneak into the warehouse without being noticed. 

There was a large glass sphere in the middle of the room, surrounded by what looked like burn white lightning that occasionally sparked brighter and caused the room to brighten as though large fluorescent lights flicked on overhead. Richie was seated a few feet away on the floor, bound against a large cement pillar that connected all the way up to the ceiling. He appeared unharmed, if not mildly annoyed. Eddie’s heart raced all the same Beverly and a man Eddie didn’t recognize both paced around the same space.

“Billy…” Beverly came to a full stand still. Bill froze at Eddie’s side. “There’s no need to sneak around. Come out, we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Bill pressed a single finger against his lips, before turning and stepping out of the shadows. “You’re m-may-making a big m-m-mistake, Beverly. He’s n-n-n-not who he says he is.”

“I think you’re the one who’s not who he says he is.” Beverly said, turning around and facing Bill with her arms crossed. “Going behind our backs and telling Richie some crap about Professor Fly? Bringing your existence to his attention? You forced our hand, Billy. Mr Scratch isn’t going to be pleased.”

“He-He’s not guh-good, Bev!” Bill cried, hands clutched at his side. “What do you th-th-think he’s going to do with it wuh-wuh-when he gets it? He-He’s puh-playing you both!”

“He is not!” Beverly cried. “He’s going to do exactly what told us! Why did you have to go and fuck up the plan?”

“Excuse me!” Richie cried, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if I’m going to be killed, can you guys at least do me the decency of letting me know what you’re talking about in my final moments.”

“You’re not going to die.” Beverly’s male friend said softly. “Nobody is going to get hurt.”

“You’re a fuh-fool if you buh-believe that, Ben!” Bill said, taking steps closer into the room. “Richie, this mach-machine has the ab-ability tr-train a super-superhero of their p-p-powers. Mr Scr-scratch hates heroes and he-”

“Like you’re any better!” Beverly shouted over Bill’s explanation. “You’ve been with him longer than either of us! Heroes killed your brother, you hate them just as much as the rest of us. Maybe ever more! They ruined all our lives!” Beverly turned towards Richie and took a few steps towards him. “I lost my parents when I was little. My father was an awful man, he chased my mother away when I was only six. He died when I was 11, and my aunt took me in. For two years, I experienced happiness for the first time. I loved my aunt and she loved me, took care of me for the first time since I could remember anything. She was a good person, and superheroes came and ripped my only true family apart. My aunt took into selling drugs after she adopted me, just to get ends to meet. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did what she had to do for me. She was smart, she never would have been caught if the superheroes minded their own business and let police handle things. A bunch of hyped up vigilanties took my aunt away from me, and I went into foster care. I was only 13. When I was 17, Mr Scratch found me. Told me there were others like me, who wanted to even the playing field.”

“By killing all the superheroes?” Richie asked, voice breaking. “Beverly, you have to admit that sounds fucking insane!” 

“It isn’t going to kill them.” Ben added. “The Deadlight doesn’t kill them, it only drains them of their supernatural abilities. Makes them human, normal. Just like everybody else.” 

Richie scoffed, in higher octaves than regular voices. “And then what happens to their powers? They just what? Evaporate?” 

“They’ll be trapped in the Deadlight.” Ben answered. “Forever. No more superheroes.”

“You’re an i-idiot.” Bill said coldly. “Sc-Scratch is obviously going to tuh-take the powers! Guh-get rid of the sue-supers and make himself invisible. Undefeatable.”

“You’re full of shit.” Beverly snapped. “He wouldn’t do that! We’re not evil, or some fucking supervillain cult! All we want in equality! We’d never use any of these powers against anybody!”

 “You two wouldn’t.” Bill said darkly. “I’ve wuh-wuh-wondered if he was really who he suh-said he was for- a luh-long time. But I suh-saw plans in his uh-office. About how to ruh-ruh-reverse the Deadlights. He’s guh-gonna take the puh-powers for him-himself.” 

“You’re a fucking liar!” Beverly screamed. “He wouldn’t do that! He-” 

A suddenly crashing brought Beverly’s screams to a halt. The doors busted open and Stan dropped in, with Mike leaping off his back. Beverly took a step backwards, eyes open wide and Ben moved over to stand almost directly in front of Richie. 

“Where’s Eddie?” Mike demanded, glancing around the room. Eddie cringed and slapped a hand over his forehead, as Beverly and Ben exchanged a shocked expression. Richie looked around wildly, with huge, terrified eyes.

Beverly crossed her arms and looked back to the same shadows that Bill had appeared from. “Okay, Eds. You can come out.”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said sharply as he stepped out as well.

“Eddie…” Richie said a quiet, almost broken voice. Eddie tried to give him a reassuring look, but he knew that Richie would be able to see his own fear underneath the attempt. 

Beverly sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright, this isn’t exactly how I planned on tonight going, though I have to say I did expect to see you all here after I took Richie.”

“Let him go.” Eddie said furiously. “He doesn’t have powers, he isn’t part of this. Let him go.”

Beverly smiled sadly. “No can do, sorry. Richie is actually a key factor to this whole mission. Why do you think I’ve been so encouraging of his little blog? He’s a natural talent, and he’s been so helpful in our acquiring the true identities of these so-called heroes.”

Eddie glanced at Richie, who looked like he might be physically ill. All Eddie wanted to do was rush over and wrap Richie in his arms and keep him safe, but he couldn’t show that weakness in this moment.

“We found Richie through you, though, Eddie.” Beverly said, looking almost… amused. “We didn’t know who you were, but Richie was at most of your scenes and we figured that he knew you. It was Big Bill’s idea that one of befriend him, and figure out what he knows. Does it sting a little, knowing you gave your future with Richie to protect him but you lead us to him anyway?” 

It more than stung, it burned. Eddie’s entire body felt like it was vibrating as he stood there, staring down at women he’d thought of as a friend for more than a year. A woman who’d been living under the same roof as Richie, but wanting only to use him and potentially cause him harm. 

“Oh, Eddie, don’t look like that.” Beverly said, sounding almost genuinely upset. “I already said we aren't gonna hurt him. Nobody is going to get hurt, Bill is just- I don’t even know what he’s trying to do.”

“I’m trying to wa-warn you!” Bill cried. “You’re buh-bluh-blinded stupid but your own luh-loyalty that you cant’ see the uh-aub-obvious truth in fr-fruh-front of you!!”

“This was your cause!” Ben came quickly to Beverly’s defence. “You hate superheroes maybe more than anybody! How can you say this wasn’t what you wanted?”

Bill’s jaw clenched and his bottom lip trembled. “I… I wanted the h-her-heroes gone. But I duh-didn’t want anybody to guh-get their powers and uh-use them for them-themselves.”

“You’re the only person who's acting like that’s going to happen.” Ben snapped. Eddie thought this was his moment, the first time he’d been able to see a true path of entrance. Everybody’s eyes were torn between Bill and Ben, this could be Eddie’s chance to get over to Richie and free him. Eddie, maybe for the first time in his life, misjudged his position. 

Beverly’s hands collided hard with Eddie’s chest, the strength of her anger and resentment hitting him hard and shocking him to his core. He understood now more than ever why Beverly hadn’t made the mistake of touching Eddie in the year they’ve known one another. He may not have felt any true evil inside her, like he had felt in many a foe before, and there was still a lingering of a sad, scared little girl at her core but none of the vibes she was giving to him at this moment was reassuring. He would have kept her far away from Richie, he would have figured out enough about her, and this plan would never have worked.

Beverly taking Eddie by utter surprise had given her even more of an advantage. He knocked Eddie backwards and he stumbled backwards, crashing directly into the Deadlight. An electric charge drove through every nerve in his body and he was thrown across the empty warehouse by a bolt of white lightning. He heard Richie scream his name, but it was like a buzzing deep in the back of his mind. 

The harsh impact to the hard ground jarred Eddie back into himself, though a small bit dazed. He’d landed not far from where Richie was tied up. He shuffled backwards, groaning as the oddest sensation of discomfort shot through his body, but he didn’t stop until he could rest his head against Richie’s knee. 

“Holy shit, Eds!” Richie gasped, fighting against his bindings even as it shook Eddie’s resting head. “How the fuck are you alive right now? You just got yeeted across the room by lightning!” 

Eddie grumbled as he reached blindly behind their bodies to untie Richie’s bondings. It must have been a testament to how shocking the last few moments had been as nobody attempted to stop them. Richie winced and rubbed at his hands for a moment before reaching out and cupping Eddie’s face. Eddie smiled as his eyes flushed shut and he leaned into the touch. 

“Are you okay?” Richie said in a low voice. It wasn’t quite a whisper, Richie never actually whispered, but it was soft and worried and so full of love that Eddie felt he might cry. 

“Yeah.” Eddie said back. “I’m okay. Promise promise.” 

Richie’s face broke into a relieved grin and pressed a hard kiss to Eddie’s voice. Maybe it had been the actual bolt of lightning that had just gone through Eddie’s body, but it felt so charged that Eddie even let out a small gasp. Then it all hit him and his eyes blew open wide. “Richie, I can’t feel you.”

“What? You can’t feel anything?” Richie asked in a panic. 

“No!” Eddie cried, shifting to sit up properly and grabbing Richie’s hands to tangle them together. “I can’t feel your spirit, your mood. It’s like… before.”

Richie and Eddie turned in unison to look at the Deadlight. The others all turned to follow their lead. It seemed to be glowing brighter, the lightning revolving around it faster. Eddie’s powers now fueling it. 

“Holy shit.” Mike said at the same time Beverly gasped. “It works.”

“Of course it works,” a deep voice came as a man in a long black cloak appeared out of nowhere. “You doubted me, Beverly? Thank you, you’ve all played your roles perfectly.” Bill startled as the man- Mr Scratch- turned to him and grinned. “Oh yes, even you Dear Bill. I always knew that your moral compass would bring you to betray me. I accounted for the variable since the beginning of our time together.”

As Mr Scratch moved around the circle, Beverly stepped out of his way as though she didn’t even notice she was doing it. She collided with Bill’s torso, and the man reached out to grab at her hand. She didn’t pull away from the touch, pale and shaking as she watched Mr Scratch rounded on the group.

“Stanley.” Mr Scratch said in a slow voice, grin spreading across his face. Stan was standing still as a statue, fists tightened even as tears filled his eyes. “You know who I am already, I can see it all over your face. Well, I never doubted your intelligence. Go ahead and tell them, there’s no need to keep it a secret amongst old friends.”

“Robert Gray.” Stan said through a clenched jaw. A single tear slipped from his ear and trailed down his cheek. “Professor Fly.”

Richie gasped and squeezed Eddie’s hand tightener. Ben stumbled away and crashed into the cement pillar that Richie had just been tied up against. Mike looked at Stan in shock as Beverly slapped a hand over her mouth. Bill pushed past her, rage evident as his face. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER-”

Gray  barely even flicked his wrist and Bill soared off his feet and slammed up against a pillar, easily twenty feet off the ground. “Stupid boy.” Gray said fondly. “You will never be a match for me, and you’ll never outsmart me. I have been planning this moment for nearly a decade. Your brother’s death started a fire that will destroy the entire world of supers as we know it.” 

Bill struggled against the invisible hold Gray had against him, Richie turning his head away from the scene and pressing his face against Eddie’s neck. Eddie could feel how Richie’s hands were shaking where they were connected.

“None of you are giving me enough credit.” Gray said in a bored tone. “Do you have any idea how much work I had to put into this entire thing? I didn’t just have to create the Deadlights, I had to hand pick every single person who would help me. Bill was a no brainer, even as I knew I could never trust him fully. Beverly and Ben had to be vulnerable enough that they would never question me, and that Bill would never feel confident in telling them what he’d figured out.”

“You left the pl-pl-pla-”

“Yes.” Gray interrupted. “I left the plans out on purpose. Haven’t you figured that I don’t leave anything to chance, William? I accounted for every possible outcome. I had to choose Stan very carefully, choose an heir that would follow my orders but never question me when I told him I could not be contacted after I retire. That I would simply never return.” 

Stan turned away bitterly, trying to wipe at the tears on his as inconspicuously as he possibly could. 

“Even after that, I had to pull so many strings. Made sure that Richie and Stan would cross paths, had to let Beverly believe that Richie’s silly little blog was her idea to let them both feel important.” He shot Eddie a slimey grin. “Had to make sure that Richie got caught in that hostage situation just after they moved to NYC so Eddie wouldn’t consider their relationship worth Richie’s life and end things, so there would be space for Beverly to make her move on Richie. I will admit I was hoping that Richie would fall in love with her, but I underestimated his love for Eddie. A small loss, but nothing damaging to the overall scheme.”

Eddie’s body thrummed with rage. Richie had nightmares for a year after that fucking bank heist, and this man had done that to them on purprose for the simply purpose of breaking them up? Richie still had panic attacks and made Eddie or Bev go with him if he needed to do any sort of banking he couldn’t do online. 

“You said nobody was going to be hurt.” Beverly said, tears streaming down her face. “You said- you said you wanted to even the playing field! You’re a monster!”

“Nobody will be hurt.” Gray said. “You will all be free to go, once all the supers have touched the Deadlight and given up their powers. You’ll all be able to go on with your lives, and I will be able to go on with mine. Once your powers are gone, you’ll have no reason to oppose me and I will have no reason to bother you again.”

Beverly and Ben stood directly in front of the Deadlight, the pain on their faces from the flashing bursts of lightning behind them. Stan was staring directly at Gray, face a mask of rage even as tears fell from his eyes. Richie hadn’t moved from where he’d hidden himself against Eddie.

“You killed my brother on purpose.” Bill said from above them. He was still fighting against Gray’s grip. 

For the first time, Gray’s composure slipped. “No.” He said shortly. “That was a tragic accident. That moment changed me forever. It was when I realized that all of those with powers, even myself, were capable of death and destruction. That we were all inherently evil. The day, I knew that I could not allow another person to hold such powers over another being again. You know, Billy- your brother is the reason for all of this. He gave his life for the new world order-”

Bill let out an intelligible scream but Gray could so much as speak, Mike Hanlon had launched himself from the crowd and latched himself onto Gray’s back. Eddie watched with mouth gape as Gray struggled against the hold before clear blue ice began to spread across his body in a matter of seconds. As the ice completely covered Gray, Bill began to free fall. Stan didn’t waste a single moment before launching up into the sky and catching Bill mid-fall and lowering them both to the ground. He let go of Bill as they touched down and rushed over to Eddie and Richie, one hand finding its way into Richie’s hair and the other falling on top of their joined hands.

“That’s the trick to villains.” Mike said, not even sounding out of breath. “You gotta get ‘em while they’re monologuing.” 

Beverly, face hard, stepped forward and kicked at Gray’s frozen chest. He tittered and fell backwards, shattering into pieces as he hit the ground. “I think it’s safe to say he didn’t account for those variables.” 

They were quiet for a long moment, Stan helping Richie and Eddie to their feet and holding onto them as they all moved towards the shattered ice pieces in the middle of the room. Even in the chilly night, they could see the beginning signs of melting.

“We nn-n-need to d-d-estory this fucking thing.” Bill said suddenly, all of them turning towards the Deadlight. Hums of agreement moved through the room. 

“Wait.” Richie said, tightening his hold on Eddie’s waist. “You said that the powers could be taken out right? We need to get Eddie’s powers back!”

“Oh, yeah!” Bill said quickly. “I- I’ll s-s-see if I can find the instructions ag-again.”

Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?

“Wait.” Eddie said, throwing out a hand. “Don’t. I don’t want them back.”

Every eye in the room turned to him, Stan smiling even as tears still hung in his eyes. “I never wanted them,” Eddie carried on. “I didn’t want to be some hero, saving people. I wanted to run track and fix cars and be with my love of my life.”

Richie turned slowly, eyes wide and painfully hopeful. “Eddie, don’t do this for shit for me. Please, okay, I-”

“I’m not doing it for you.” Eddie turned and slid his arms around Richie’s shoulders. “I’m doing it for me. I don’t need these bullshit powers. I can run perfectly fine with my own two normal feet, and I would love to be able to touch a person without knowing their moral count or pick up something in somebodys house without knowing if its fucking haunted or not.”

Richie chuckled wetly.

“And I love you so much.” Eddie continued. “And all I want is to be with you, it’s all I’ve ever wanted since the fucking sixth grade. I’m tired of loving each other and being forced apart and just hurting each other over and over. Especially over these stupid powers I was cursed with. I don’t want them back. I wanna be with you and I wanna be happy.”

Richie ducked down and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. This time Eddie knew the sparks that seemed to shoot through him was no lightning shot- just love. 

Spotted! FlyBoy, Captain Fly and Freezie teaming up with three civilians and your truly to foil a truly evil plan, saving not just our city but possibly our entire world. (Eyewitnesses may claim that Freezie did all the work, but that remains to be proven.) And in case you missed it, there was an epic conclusion to an equally epic love story. You know what they say, all’s well that ends great… or however the saying goes!

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 6

Episode 17.

A military tribunal grills Misato and gives her shit for not presenting Shinji for grilling and/or grilling him herself. There are a lot of shots of silhouettes in isolation and heavily shadowed faces obscuring expression in this episode. Lots of NERV talk about branches and the Dead Sea scrolls and attempting to intuit the intentions of Angels.

The rest of Episode 17 and Episode 18 behind the cut.

There are apparently two more EVAs out there in the US and Germany but actually only one more because one of the other two just fucking disappeared with like everything including the people all around it?

There's also ... another teen with the power to pilot the giant upsetting robots and it is both a shock and concern when various people find out who it is although we the audience do not find out who it is (it is probably Shinji's classmate with the little sister who got hurt).

There's just a lot of stuff that seems to be setting up things for the next episode with no resolution so there's not much to report on. Kaji isn't dead. Rei misses some school. That one girl in class who isn't an EVA pilot is trying badly to express interest in dude with sister.

Shinji cleans Rei's shitty garbage apartment, Rei blushes and has some kind of quiet Rei crisis about thanking him after he's gone and also about Shinji's awful father because she still has his broken glasses and they're like the only non-utilitarian thing she owns.

There's no angel attack or anything particularly weird or cool or gross. Just a big sense of building to something. Ritsuko has a coffee mug with cats on it that says CAT CAT CAT CAT and that's pretty great. This concludes my report on Episode 17 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Episode 18.

It culminates in maybe 10 solid minutes of me with my hands over my mouth in absolute horror, so. Let's go.

After all the setup of last week's episode with the mysteriously disappeared EVA and the EVA coming from America for a new pilot who is clearly Tohji whose sister got hospitalized because of EVA fight fallout, things open with Americans talking American! They're transporting the American EVA by air on I don't know bungee cords or something and this thing is such obviously colour-coded bad news. It's like, dark grey and black. Then they fly into huge ominous clouds with lightning flashes. This is fine and will be fine.

Misato's off to be involved in all the stuff that NERV needs to do for having a new EVA and even though she has a perfectly good roommate to look after Shinji and Asuka, she tells Shinji that Kaji will be babysitting them instead of Penpen. Fuckin' Kaji. Before she goes she tries to work up to telling Shinji the identity of the new EVA pilot while Shinji works up to asking her about the disappeared EVA rumour. Good job Shinji! Asking questions, even though it's scary! Misato reassures him about THEIR EVAs and safety to avoid bringing up Tohji because ... Misato's a disaster who is trying to be a responsible grown-up and sometimes knowing the right thing to do and wanting to do it isn't enough. Ritsuko gives her a hard time about this later because everyone agrees that Shinji should know Tohji is going to pilot an EVA and since Misato is the only person who said 'someone needs to look after this literal child when he isn't in the robot' she has to be the one to tell him. Because EVERY ADULT IN THIS SHOW SUCKS AND IS FAILING THE NEXT GENERATION except for Misato and she's an overworked alcoholic who gets a pity pass.

All the kids are tense and weird because they know Tohji is going to be piloting an EVA or want to pilot an Eva themselves or are trying to confess to Tohji or they're Shinji. (Asuka almost manages to relate to someone like a normal teen so good job, Asuka.) Rei has a feeling. Lots of opportunity for /literally anyone else/ to tell Shinji that Tohji's the new pilot at multiple opportunities but no one does.

Instead, Shinji tries to have a nighttime man-to-man conversation with Kaji. Fuckin' Kaji. Shinji wants to know what Kaji thinks of his father. Kaji mocks him for this being the only way Shinji can think of to get to know his horrible father, then is flippant about how actually you can never really know another person. But you know who you can really never know?

WOMEN.

Fuckin' Kaji.

So the next day Tohji isn't in class because he's getting EVA orientation which at NERV means he gets in the EVA and they turn it on and see what happens and hey, guess what, the ominous dark EVA almost immediately becomes a BAD TIME. It opens the mouth it has to scream and also it has jagged red teeth in its horrible unnecessary mouth and then a part cracks or something and it's like a huge gooey organic pulsing thing on the EVA and when they try to eject the pilot plug it becomes blocked with goo tendrils.

It's been whole episodes since I last commented on how upsetting I found the design of these giant robots but hey, the giant robot is upsetting and I hate how it has teeth and screaming and all the goo even if the goo is possibly not part of the design since it's also an Angel?

THEN THE GIANT ROBOT GOES MORE BERSERK AND FUCKING BLOWS UP THE ORIENTATION TEST SITE OR SOMETHING AND IS ON THE RUN and there's a weird, creepy quality to how the EVAs are animated when they move, a hugeness of arm movement that is very unrobotic, but moreso with this EVA. It's good and cool but also I hate it.

The kids get called in and this is around when I covered my mouth and just kept getting increasingly upset because Shinji's dad is in charge due to Misato maybe being blown up and Shinji's dad wants the kids to eliminate the rogue EVA with Tohji inside. Rei knows, Asuka knows. Shinji still doesn't know but he knows /a/ kid is in there and that is enough to make him unhappy and reluctant with his father's 'destroy the rampaging robot' orders. But Asuka gets taken out fast. Then it basically teleports onto Rei and starts dripping more awful goop. There's lots of gross veiny pulsing in this episode, very Akira, I hate it, and the goop from Tohji's evil EVA melts and infects the hand of Rei's Eva and I guess it's Angel goop that lets the Angel control the EVA? So the infection can't get further than the EVA hand. And under the brave leadership of Commander Ikari the obvious solution is just /fuck that whole limb/ without desynching Rei from her EVA so hey why not just a teenage girl screaming as she feels like her entire arm is ripped off, cool cool cool.

So now it's down to Shinji who still doesn't want to destroy this giant robot with a child in it and even if his heart was in it, this thing is fucking intense. ALSO IT'S STRETCH ARMSTRONG? Like, it goes from shambling to shooting its arms out insanely long to choke Shinji's EVA. It's choking Shinji's EVA so hard that bruise marks are showing up on Shinji's throat. Meanwhile, his father is telling him to stop being a useless child who is being choked to death by a giant robot and do the child murder like I'm ordering you to, child I hate. Shinji won't and also Shinji can't because he is being choked to death.

At NERV it is suggested to Commander Ikari maybe they should lower the synch on Shinji's robot so he can't be choked to death /through a robot/ and for reasons known only to shitty dads, that's not an option. But what is an option is just shifting control from Shinji to the AI control and if AI control is an option maybe just work on doing that instead of this whole child soldier thing but no one at NERV can hear me over the sound of parental neglect.

Everything goes red when the dummy AI is implemented and fuck the colour work in this series is /so good/ and Shinji just has to sit and feel everything as his robot proceeds to destroy Tohji's robot. Ripping limbs, punching until everything is cracking and blood is everywhere. Don't worry, America made sure their giant robot was also full of red, red, red blood. Vast quantities of blood. In the setting sun a river looks like blood. There is blood weighing down a traffic light in an amazing shot. It's awful. Shinji doesn't know it's Tohji, but we do. The robot that is so clearly an extension of Shinji's body even if he can't control it removes the pilot plug from the grisly wreckage of Tohji's robot and it crushes the plug, the orange liquid spurting out and he /still doesn't know/.

Commander Ikari smiles.

Shinji's father has been a bad father throughout, sometimes in ways that really, distressingly resonate, in really lowkey, banal 'bad dad' ways, but here he's just a monster. He can see his son, hear him, but he doesn't care. It doesn't penetrate.

After everything, Shinji is just numb in the robot, still and shocked, unable to grapple with this overwhelming sense of having just killed someone, horribly and violently and brutally. It's bad and you feel bad and I started crying and still Shinji /doesn't know/.

Then cleanup and ambulances arrive and out of the giant robot wreckage they pull the somehow still alive Tohji and then Shinji /does/ know, he sees Tohji's battered and beaten body, and Shinji starts screaming because somehow it's worse. This concludes my report on Episode 18 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

As Brian and I returned to the loft, I felt more than a little apprehensive.  It wasn’t just that I was going to be around Bitch again, but I was also having to face Lisa and Alec.  After shouting and talking about quitting the team, I was turning around and going back.  A part of me wanted to apologize, but a larger part of me felt I shouldn’t.  I had been justified in everything I had said and done, right?  Maybe it was just because I wasn’t used to violence or raising my voice.

Going back after that display is a little awkward yeah..., but I think you put on a strong enough performance to salvage that.

...with some of the members at least. I don't think Bitch will appreciate much the glorious asskicking you delivered.

For not being used to violence, you sure had an incredible start, both with powers and without them.

As I’d feared, there was a bit of an awkward silence as we reached the top of the stairs.  Bitch was sitting in a chair beside one of the tables, her dogs nowhere to be seen.  As she saw me, she scowled, but didn’t say anything.  Alec grinned as I came back, but I couldn’t decide if it was because he was glad or if it was at my expense.  I didn’t know him well enough to guess either way.

Bitch must be wanting to start shit again. She contains herself because a) the team in general (or at least Brian) don’t want any fights, and b) Taylor could go apeshit on her again.

Alec isn’t making fun of you... I think. Her trauma colors a lot of harmless gestures in a bad light.

“Glad you came back,” Lisa told me, a bit of a smile on her face, “Alec, can you go get the first aid kit?  It might be in the storage closet.”

Lisa seems to be always cheerful. I’m starting to like her a lot.

While Alec did that, Brian sat me down on the arm of the couch and I pulled off my sweatshirt to get a better look at the damage.  I pulled the bottom of my tank top up around my ribs to get a look at where one of the dogs had been gotten at my stomach and back.  My clothes had taken most of the damage, and I’d only suffered three or four shallow-ish scrapes.  There was bruising and some raw areas where I felt tender, but I figured I’d recover from that in a day or two. I had a cut on my ear, which would be harder to hide, but I was pretty sure I could keep the incident from my dad without him raising hell.

There was only one spot of real damage, a puncture where it looked like a fang had buried itself deep in the top of my forearm and then dragged an inch or so down towards my wrist as it made its exit.  The area around it was already turning colors with bruising.  I wasn’t sure how deep the puncture was, but I was pretty sure it should have been hurting more than it did.  The blood from the injury had trickled down my arm, and was still welling out.

It’s crazy to think you got more serious injuries from a bunch of dogs than from Lung, with all his fire and power. I guess that shows the effectiveness of your costume though.

Poor Danny, he’s probably going to notice anyways, not say anything and worry silently.

“Christ,” I said, mostly to myself.

“That was awesome, you know,” Alec told me, as he returned with the first aid kit, “I didn’t think you had it in you to kick someone’s ass.”  I glared at him, but he just sat on the back of the sofa, his legs kicking like an excited kid.

Alec strikes me as an Amethyst-type character from SU.

I also really like him.

I’m starting to warm up to most of these villains.

Is this what it feels like to be Taylor?

“I think we’re going to clean that and stitch it.  Tattle’s power should give us a better sense of whether stitches are necessary,” Brian said, quietly.

“Alright,” I agreed.

Her power is probably one of the most useful you can have for situations like these.

I would hardly describe getting stitches as a bonding experience, but Bitch more or less stayed quiet throughout the process.  We were both sat down and told to sit still while Brian both cleaned and sewed up the hole in my arm and the tear my kick had made in Bitch’s ear.  Brian insisted I take two Tylenol, though the pain was still limited to a mild ache in my arm.  I grudgingly obliged.  I’d never liked taking pills, and never felt they made a real difference.

Bonding moment: Getting stitches for the wounds you gave eachother.

“You have first aid training?” I inquired, to make conversation and break the tense silence.

Alec complained, “We all do, Brian made us all take a comprehensive class less than a week after we were gathered as a team.  Such a pain in the ass, believe me.  He’ll make you do it too.”

Brian likes to be prepared. Brian is cautious. Nice

Having first aid training for the types of situations you are probably in HELPS.

“I already did,” I admitted, “One of the first things I did.”  I jumped a little at a snarling from my left, but it was just Rachel cussing as Lisa taped a cotton pad to her ear.

Ooh Taylor is on the same wavelength!

I bet Brian likes to hear that.

Brian just looked at me and flashed that boyish smile again.  I looked away, embarrassed that a guy like him would get pleased like that on my account.  He got up to head to the bathroom, garbage from the bandages, sutures, cotton swabs and ointments in his hands.

Oh Taylor you are precious.

This is being a strangely wholesome stitching session.

With Brian gone and Lisa absorbed in trying to patch up Bitch’s ear, I was left with Alec.  To make conversation, I said, “Alec.  You were going to tell me what you do.  You go by Regent, right?”

“The name is a long story, but what I do is this.”  He looked over his shoulder at Brian, who was returning from the washroom with a damp washcloth in hand.  Brian, mid-stride, stumbled and fell onto the floor.

Oh what?

Ok so he either:

1) Makes people clumsy by lowering their overall balance or their skill

2) Makes people unlucky

3) Controls them momentarily to make them stumble or fall

All three can be OP as all hell in the right hands.

Way to look good in front of the new girl, gimpy!” Alec mocked his teammate, laughing. Grateful for the break in the tension, I couldn’t help but laugh too.  While Alec continued laughing, Brian got to his feet and ran up to the smaller boy, at which point he got Alec in a headlock and began punching him in the shoulder repeatedly.  This abuse only made Alec laugh harder in between his cries of pain.

Alec and Brian are such friendly assholes to eachother and it’s great.

Lisa turned to me, smiling at the prank and play fighting between the boys, “It’s a bit complicated to explain, but basically, Alec can get into people’s nervous systems.  This lets him fire off impulses that set off reflexes or make body parts jerk into motion.  It’s not a dramatic power, but with timing, he can make someone fall over midstep, drop something, lose their sense of balance or pull the trigger on a gun.”

Oh so it’s a nerfed version of option 3! He manipulates their involuntary reflexes and motions.

...I don’t think I’ve seen that before. It’s a very fun and still pretty useful ability!

Ok so here’s the first part! Next part hopefully up tomorrow, along with a homestuck part too.

[artificialqueens]

Show me the Stars, Chapter One (Trixya) - Kite

A/N: It’s been a long ass time since I’ve posted to AQ, but here I am with a Trixya fic. Hope you guys enjoy it! Feel free to check out my concept art over on my tumblr @youre-a-kite. And if you’re feeling the space themed lesbian au vibe, check out my fic Artemis on Ao3, which features Branjie, Trixya and Scyvie in space.

Summary: Trixie is a tour guide in a planetarium who makes up the facts as she goes along, and Katya is an astrophysicist who takes the tour with the intention of calling her out, but doesn’t.

Trixie sighs as the gaggle of elementary kids start to screech when she dims the lights, plunging them into darkness. She waits for the teachers to regain control of the room, and nods politely whilst they apologise, but she knows it’s going to be a few minutes before the kids settle.

It’s the same story every day.

But on the plus side, it usually means she can shave five minutes off the end of her presentation. Ten minutes, if one of them needs the bathroom half way through.

“Good morning kids,” Trixie says, with as much enthusiasm as her slightly hungover self will allow. “My name is Trixie Mattel and I’ll be your tour guide today. Please remember that there is no eating or drinking in the planetarium. Now, raise your hand if you’ve ever seen a star.”

-x-

The door to the break room slams shut behind her.

“I swear to god, I’m quitting tomorrow,” she groans.

Pearl scoffs. “Bitch, you say that every day.”

“I know, but this time I mean it.”

This isn’t how Trixie pictured her life would work out when she moved to LA the moment she graduated college. Like every other hopeful out there, she was going to be a star. She thought she’d at least have a recurring role on a sitcom by now. But gradually, as her savings account has drained, acting classes had been switched for shifts at the makeup counter in the mall. The agent that she’d hired became a luxury that she was no longer able to afford. She’d taken a job at the planetarium because she figured it was the closest thing to acting that she could find, but, God, she fucking hates kids.

Her colleagues are the only thing about the job that she actually enjoys. She’d gotten the job through her roommate Kim and became friendly with the other pretty quickly. She’s never been one to shy away from social situations, especially not at work.

In the break room, anything goes.

Last week, their boss, Brooke, had pulled Trixie into the office to give her a lecture on ‘why we leave our personal lives at home’ when she realised that half of the tours started late one morning because her guides had been too busy grilling Trixie about the hickey on her neck from her Tinder date to keep an eye on the time. Honestly, that talk had gone in one ear and straight out of the other. She figured that it was pretty hypocritical, coming from the woman who’s almost definitely banging the chick who works in the gift shop.

“Trix’, you’ll like this,” Pearl tells her, beckoning her over. “When Violet was working the public telescopes last night, some old couple asked her to point them towards Ursa Major.”

Violet laughs loudly, “like I know where that fucker is.”

“What did you do?” Trixie smirks.

When their job amounts to little more than following a script and flicking the lights on and off at the right time, they all know how stressful it can be when they get asked a specific question.

Violet shrugs, “I just pointed upwards. What else was I supposed to do?”

-x-

After lunch, Trixie is leading the ‘Moons of the Solar System’ tour that is open to the public. On the one hand, the ratio of children to adults on these tours is always much lower, so that’s a positive, but on the other hand, members of the public come with their own set of problems.

There’s the entitled moms, who think that their kids should get to climb up on the displays. There’s the know it all dads, who like to jump in with a ‘well, actually’ every once in a while. There’s always a group of tourists who never listen to the ‘no flash photography’ instruction at the beginning. But every once in a while, there’s someone interesting or quirky or different, that makes her shifts just about bearable.

Pearl is collecting ticket stubs at the entrance to the planetarium dome, and gives Trixie a nod when the last members of the audience have filtered in. As she leaves, she closes the doors behind her and sets the lights so that they begin to dim.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gents. I’m Trixie Mattel and I’ll be your tour guide today. Please remember that there is no eating or drinking in the auditorium. Now, raise your hand if you’ve ever seen the moon.”

She rattles through the opening section about Earth’s moons fairly quickly. It’s the most boring part of the script by far, since even young kids will already know this by now. With feigned enthusiasm, she asks her audience participation questions about solar and lunar eclipses. Once she’s finished, someone raises their hand to ask a question. She prays it’s something she knows the answer to.

“When’s the next lunar eclipse?”

Trixie shifts uncomfortably. The woman’s blue eyes are piercing, waiting for her to answer.

“Um, some time next month. You’ll have to check out our website for further details.”

The woman nods, seemingly satisfied. But she’s barely into her segment on Jupiter’s four largest moons when the woman speaks up again.

“Which space probe has travelled the furthest?”

She has to use all of her willpower to force herself not to roll her eyes. The Lord really is trying to test her today. Quickly, in her head, she rattles through all of the names of the space probes that she knows, trying to pick the one that sounds right.

“Um, Galileo,” Trixie guesses.

The woman smiles, but says nothing.

“And how far away is-“

Trixie has to cut her off.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave all questions until the end.”

The woman apologises, but it doesn’t make Trixie feel any less on edge.

The thing is, Trixie knows that he answers are wrong. She knows that she’s making up the majority of her script on the spot. And she knows that the parents here are lapping it up, planning to go home and brag to their book club friends about how their kids enjoy educational pastimes, because they’re just so damn gifted.

But this woman. Who’s teetering in skyscraper heels and watching her like a hawk. Who’s nodding along with the presentation, smirking softly to herself, like she knows something that everybody else doesn’t. Trixie is sure that this woman knows that everything she’s saying is bullshit.

Trixie sets up the projectors to play a short clip showing the names and sizes of some of the solar system’s biggest moons, then positions herself in the back corner of the room. Then, as if this woman isn’t odd enough already, she starts to look up at the dome. But she doesn’t look up like all the rest of the parents, with a semi-interested expression and frequent glances to her watch. She looks up in awe, like this is the greatest thing she’s ever seen in her life. Like nothing could bring her to look away, not even for a moment.

And it’s funny, because Trixie is as captivated by the woman as the woman is by the moons.

At the end of the presentation, Trixie is dreading the asking the audience for questions, because she knows whose hand is going to be the first in the air. So, she drags out the end of the show for as long as possible, praying that she overruns. When Pearl pokes her head through the door to give her the two minute warning for the start of Kim’s next group, she’s so relieved, she could kiss her.

“And that’s all we have time for today folks. Please exit via the gift shop on your right. Have a lovely day!”

She makes a beeline for the door, but of course, the woman follows her.

“Hold on, I didn’t get to ask my questions,” she smirks coyly.

Trixie sighs and gestures to the edge of the corridor so they can stand out of the way of the crowds.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing but-“

The woman holds up her hands in defence. “I’m not playing any games, I just wanted to know-“

“Save it,” Trixie cuts her off, and she really hopes she’s right because if not she’s just been very, very rude to a curious audience member. But then the woman grins and she knows she isn’t wrong. Trixie sighs. “Are you going to tell my boss?”

The woman shrugs and Trixie’s eyes widen.

“Look, I’m sorry if your kid didn’t enjoy the show or whatever. I’ll get you tickets to the next-“

“Ew, gross” the woman cuts her off by shaking her head, “I don’t have a kid.”

“Oh. Then why are you at a kids planetarium show?”

The woman laughs. Her teeth are perfectly straight and perfectly white, not that Trixie cares.

“My niece watched a show here last week, but the new facts that she learned turned out to be the biggest load of garbage I’ve ever heard.”

Trixie ought to be embarrassed, but really, she’s just annoyed. Why can’t this woman just leave a bad review on trip advisor like a normal person?

“Are you some kind of space expert or something?”

The woman takes a business card out of her purse and hands it over.

Prof. Yekaterina P Zamolodchikova. Astrophysics Department - UCLA.

“Jesus,” Trixie mumbles.

“No, Katya,” the woman replies, holding out her hand for Trixie to shake.

Trixie doesn’t shake her hand.

“Please don’t tell my boss, I really need this job.”

“Maybe if you really needed it, you’d be less terrible at it.”

Trixie shrugs. “That’s fair.”

Katya’s gaze sharpens. “What you’re doing isn’t right. Kids come here to learn and you’re just making shit up as you please.”

Trixie shifts on the balls of her feet. It would be easier to just let Brooke tear her a new asshole than have to put up with this. Maybe if she tells her before Katya has the chance, she’ll get to keep her job.

Trixie looks at her watch and sighs. “Okay, if you’re going to tell her will you at least tell her tomorrow, so that I get paid for the rest of the day.”

Katya looks Trixie up and down, then grins devilishly. “I’m not going to tell her.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.”

Trixie blinks rapidly, then stares at her, unaware of what they’re supposed to do now. Then, Katya gestures to the business card in her hand.

“See the address? I want you to meet me there at eight. I’m going to teach you what you need to know.”

Trixie narrows her eyes. “You’re a college professor and you want to teach third grade physics to a terrible planetarium tour guide…”

Katya shrugs. “Or I could tell your boss that you can’t do your job properly.”

“Fine. God damn it. Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Trixie had been warned of the unsavoury side of life before she moved to LA, but had never thought she would be blackmailed into being educated.

She looks down at the card in her hand, but when she looks back up, Katya is already walking away.

“How will I know where to find you?”

“You’ll know,” she calls back over her shoulder.

“This had better not be a trap so that you can kidnap and murder me,” Trixie shouts after her, earning her a few uncomfortable glances from nearby parents.

“No promises,” Katya tells her, then leaves the building.

[morgana-ren]

hey hun!!! just letting you know your shigaraki fic was crazy good! tbh probably the best one i’ve read💕 jw if maybe you’d do a continuation?? if not that’s fineeee :)

Ask and yee shall receive! I love writing Shigaraki and I’ve actually had quite a few requests for a continuation. The more dialogue he has, the more challenging he is to write in character, so I hope this is up to par! 

HERE’S PART I! 

There was no better display of thesickening plethora of filth that was ‘hero culture’ than the mall.

Hoards of humans crowding inside aconcrete cage to throw their money at any cheap, shitty knockoff itemwith a famous face plastered on it. Kids ran amok, screaming andcrying and leaving a trail of crumbs and slobber in their wake.Teenage girls and boys huddled around the hippest stores, fawningover the latest heart throb and shoplifting trinkets while no one waslooking. It was absolutely disgusting.

Theyflocked to the stores like rats chasing poisoned peanut butter.Endeavor t-shirts, Uwabami makeup. Midnight lingerie. Fucking AllMight everything. Theyall flew off the rack as fast as they could be stocked. Moronic NPCsshoveling every ounce of garbage they could find into theirinventory. Every bone in his body longed to run his hand along thewall and just watch it all turn to dust.

His hatred of thegeneral populace was one of many reasons Shigaraki didn’t make ahabit out of leaving the bar. Assuming that Father had kept enough ofhis face hidden during his exploits for it to be somewhat safe, hestill didn’t particularly enjoy crowds. People of all sizes, shapes,colors, smells, cultures, ideals, and morals but they all had onething in common.

They all lookeddown on him.

Inpublic, he always kept his head down, hood and hair covering hismarred face. Hands steadily in his pocket, eyes on the ground. Hepulled himself into his own body, doing his best to not draw anyundue attention. It wasn’t for their benefit, of course, but his. Ifone more NPC stared athim, a single person let their eyes linger too long on his chappedlips, dry skin, scars, or emaciated form, he would snap andruin everything. A massacre that ended in his incarceration wouldprobably throw a massive sized wrench into the gears of All for One’splan, and that was the last thing Tomura wanted.

Regardless,it made him so angry.

Not that he caredwhat they thought. They could drown in their own filth as far as hewas concerned. He just didn’t like being stared at. It was so rude.These pack animals always pretended like they were so much betterthan everyone else, with their laws and their heroes. So superior.But the way they looked at him, the way their eyes crinkled indisgust, mouths agape, looking at him like he was a wet rat whocrawled out of a sewer grate.

How would they lookat him when their expressions were melting from their faces as theydisintegrated into ash?

The situation madehis fingers twitch and lip curl. Wasn’t it enough that idiot Stainhad polluted the minds of the city’s villains with his ridiculousideology? Did everything have to be such a pain in the ass?  

Luckily, Shigarakihad a few hobbies that helped to calm his mind. While drinking at thebar and crisping newspapers was always a quick and easy stressrelief, he had always been particularly taken with video games. Notonly did he enjoy them, but he was good at them. No one couldlook down at you for your appearance or ideals, the only thing thatmattered in the end was victory, and that was a strategy he couldwork with.

It didn’t matterthe genre, the rating, online or off, he knew he could dominate it.He never had much trouble climbing the rankings or leveling up.Nothing mattered but his prowess, his skill, both of which he had inspades. Not to mention, it allowed him to exercise his destructiveand domineering personality without drawing any real attention tohimself. In fact, it even made him cool. People would fightfor his allegiance during battles or races, sending him an wave offriend requests and messages with offers from their guilds orpromises of friendship from their groups. He didn’t care about that.He deserved the recognition. He was only getting what wascoming to him.

Buteven video games weren’t completely safe from the influx of heroparaphernalia pandering garbage. Gamingcompanies flocked to video games featuring heroes like a fly to shit.It was easily avoidable, sure, but it still pissed him off thatheroes could infect the one thing he genuinely enjoyed.

Still, he had toadmit, it fun wiping the floor with famous heroes in those gamessometimes. Even if the villains were hideously under powered. Infact, that made it even better. If he could win a fight with a nobodyvillain against a famous hero in a video game where there werelimited controls, can you imagine what he could do in real life wherethe possibilities were endless?

Soon the wholeworld would see. This was only the beginning.

Frankly, there wasonly one downside to gaming. Most new releases from the companies heliked didn’t come out with PC ports for a little while after thegame’s initial release, which meant he had to leave the safety of thebar and adjourn out into the world to get brand new games. Sure, hecould send Kurogiri to do it, but more than once he had come backwith the wrong game in the series, or even the wrong one entirely. Itwas a frustrating mess, and it was easier to just avoid it alltogether by going himself.

Besides, sometimeswalks helped him clear his head. Sometimes.

That was how hefound himself here. One of his favorite companies had just released abrand new action and adventure game that he’d been dying to try eversince he saw the trailer. He’d even had Kurogiri call in advance andreserve a copy. At least he could do that right.

Shigaraki neededthis. Needed to get his mind off of the Hero Killer Stain and AllMight and fucking all of it. He was driving himself mad goingaround in circles in his own head asking himself questions he knew hedidn’t have the answers to. He needed to put his head in the clouds,if only for a little while.

So he dodgedthrough the crowds of people, weaving in and out of families andgroups trying to get into the game store before he finally lost hislast ounce of sanity. There seemed to be more people here than usual,which just soured his mood even further. He should have known betterthan to come on a weekend. He grunted past several bystanders, bitinghis tongue to hold back the onslaught of insults fresh in his mind.It was only when he reached a rather impenetrable wall of people thathe inhaled sharply, ready to start grabbing.

A large group ofpedestrians had gathered in a circle around something, which wasblocking off a large portion of the walkway and therefore his path.He mumbled under his breath, tempted to forcefully move them out ofthe way. What in the hell was going on that was so important that itsaw fit to hinder him?

“Hey, isn’t that the hero classfrom UA?”

“Yeah! Wow! I saw them compete inthe sports festival! So awesome!”

“You guys are so cool! What’s itlike at UA?”

Shigarakistiffened. So they were here. He peered upward for a momentand saw the class huddled together, some blushing, others posing,obviously basking in their new found fame. That kid was heretoo. The mop of hair and splattering of freckles was visible evenfrom where he stood. That one willing to put himself in danger overand over again for All Might. Midoriya.

Maybe it wasn’tentirely a negative thing that he found himself here on thisparticular day. That boy obviously had his pulse on heroculture. Maybe he could explain why people were so taken withStain and yet completely ignored him. An ear splitting smile cutthrough Shigaraki’s face, irritating one of the blisters on his lowerlip. He wiped the blood and waited for the crowd to disperse as thestudents each went off in their own direction.

When it was onlyhim and one other student, a young girl with short brown hair, hemade his move. He started heading in the direction of Midoriya,grinning wider when the young girl sped off, leaving the kid all byhimself. It was so perfect. He was about to reach out and makehis move when he heard it.

A voice. A voicethat made his blood pound in his ears.

He stopped cold,hand stopped short of the oblivious Midoriya’s shoulder.Instinctively, his head turned in the direction of the voice, heartthrumming in his chest. Surrounded by a couple of fellow UA students,she was standing in front of a window, joking around with one of thepeople nearest her.

Her. She washere

Hisfingers began to shake as he withdrew them from Midoriya, stuffingthem back into his pocket before anyone noticed him. She was here. Heshould have known. She was in the class too. These kids stucktogether like glue. If they were here, it was certain she was nearby.Stupid stupid stupid. Hehad almost blown his chance.

But hehadn’t.

Heturned and stalked in her direction, staying only far enough back asto not draw attention, crimson eyes glaring into the back of herhead. She was laughing at something some blonde idiotin her class had said. He felt his temper go through the roof, andallowed one hand out to scratch and dig at his neck. Why was shetalking to him? Whywas she laughing so hard? What he said probably wasn’t even funny. Hedidn’t like the way that guy was looking at her. Did he likeher? Did she like him?

Hefelt a thin trickle of liquid down his neck as his scar reopened.

Hemanaged to tame his anger just enough to keep from rushing him.Instead, he followed the group at a distance for a while, waiting forhis opportunity. He overheard something about a camping trip andsomething about training. Interesting. He would have to make a mentalnote of it. However, right now, he had other things on his mind.

Theopportunity finally came when a few of the students rushed ahead todrool over some restaurant while she stayed behind, digging in herbag for her wallet. They ran off ahead, yelling at her to catch upand complaining about hunger. He heard her laugh and tell them she’dbe there in a minute, she just needed a second to get some cash out.She was alone. It was time.

Hecame up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, doing his bestto mask his voice.

“Hey,you’re one of those kids from UA, right? You’re practically famous!Do you think I could get an autograph?”

Hefelt her stiffen underneath his hold. She knew something was off, ashiver rolling down her spine as she tried to turn and look at him.He was just out of the reach of her peripheral, hair and hood hidinghis features.

“Y-yeah,I am.” She raised her hand as if to pry him off, but thought betterof it. “If you’ll just let me go for a second, I’ll get in my bagand get out a pen and some paper.”

Hervoice was on edge, her shoulder muscles clenching. He couldn’t helpbut smile again.

“Isaw you compete in the sports festival. You came in fourth, right? Itwas so cool. I bet yougot so many offers from agencies. I bet everyone wants you to betheir hero.” Hecould feel her breathing getting more shallow, feel her neck flex asshe swallowed.

“I-um-Sir,I don’t really feel comfortable being touched by people I don’t know,but if you’ll remove your hand, I’ll get you an autograph or apicture if you want.”

Sir. Shehad called him sir. Itwas adorable. He wanted to hear it again.

“Inoticed you got your costume fixed too. I liked better it the otherway, but that way is fine too.” He chuckled. “Hey, you’re alittle tense. It’s okay, we’re friends, remember?”

Realizationhit her like a truck. She inhaled, biting her lip as she turned herhead as much as she could in his direction. “Shigaraki!”

Heleaned down, perching his head on her shoulder. “Careful, you don’twant to make a scene. All Might might not be busy this time, butthere certainly a lot of civilians around. A lot of your friends too.I’d hate for something to happen.”

“Whatdo you want?” She snarled, making a slight effort to jerk away. Hedidn’t let her.

“Ijust want to talk. Is that so bad? Or are you too cool nowto catch up with an old friend?”

“Weare not friends!”Growling, she reached up and dug her fingernails into his wrist.

Hegiggled. She had certainly gotten more feisty since their lastmeeting. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. I thought we hit itoff pretty well.

Beforeshe could respond, the same blonde classmate came running towardsthem from inside of the nearby building. Shigaraki sneered,tightening his grip on her shoulder in warning. He was no doubtcoming back for her.

���Hey!We got a table and be-Woah! Who’s this guy?” The kid stopped a bitshort of them, shifting between looking at her in confusion andpeering suspiciously at him.

Shigarakileaned further in and whispered under his breath. “Unless the nexttime you want to see him is in an urn, I suggest you get ridof him. Quickly.”

Shepulled herself together, smiling happily while waving at him. “It’scool, Denki. He’s an old friend.” A sly smirk pulled at Tomura’smouth. “We ran into each other and thought we’d catch up a bit.Don’t wait up! I’ll meet you guys there!”

Denkicontinued looking back and forth between the two of them, eyeslingering on Shigaraki for a brief moment before retreating. “Okay,then. I’ll save you a spot. Don’t take too long or I’ll eat your foodtoo!”

Asthey watched him walk back into the restaurant, Tomura hummed.“You’re certainly a good actress. If I hadn’t known better, Iwouldn’t believe you were lying.”

“Saywhat you need to say and then leave.” She hissed quietly.

“Walkforward and turn into that alleyway on your left.” He gripped herwith his hand, careful to leave his middle finger levitating.

“Likehell! You think I’m just going to walk into a dark alleyway with theleader of the league of villains? You’ll kill me!”

“Youdon’t have a choice, hero. Assuming that’s what I’m planning, it’seither you or everyone else in this area, starting with Denki.”He began walking, shoving her forward lightly. “And if I startfeeling anything funny, I’ll dust youfirst and then move on to them.”

Sheexhaled in defeat, shuffling her feet forward as Shigaraki steeredher toward the desolate alcove. That rendered her quirk completelyuseless. Shigaraki would know if she was trying to use it on him, andshe didn’t want to test his promise. She had no doubt in her mindthat he wouldn’t hesitate.

Thatdidn’t mean she couldn’t get the drop on him though.

Remember your training. Duck andjab. Get out of his reach!

Notquite halfway down the passageway, she ducked and lurched back,sending her elbow careening into his stomach. He grunted in pain ashe was driven back several feet away from her, taken too much bysurprise to bring his hand down. She turned to face him, readying herdefensive stance as he recovered from the blow.

“Thisagain?” He wheezed, rolling his neck.

“I’mnot going down without a fight!”

Sighing,he straightened his back and held his hands up. “Have it your way,then.”

Shesent a few punches his direction but he dodged the brunt of them,only landing one on his injured shoulder. It was exponentiallystronger than the last time they met, enough to send him reelingbackwards while grabbing at his weakened limb. He coughed a fewtimes, quickly evading her other jabs.

“You’vebeen practicing.” He noted.

“Itrain with Midnight every week in hand to hand combat to keep peoplelike you away!” She sent another loaded punch towards his face,which he easily sidestepped.

“Lookslike it’s going well.” He deadpanned, seeming unimpressed. “I’mgetting bored.”

Sheignored his prodding, sending a few low kicks to his shins. Hebrought his own foot up, catching on the back of her knee andyanking, sending her toppling to the ground. She growled infrustration, pushing herself away from where he stood and standingback up, immediately taking stance again. She charged him one lasttime, sending her leg on a collision course with his hip in the hopesto knock him aside, but he simply raised his arms, catching her legand holding it.

Hereyes widened as she began to lose balance, but before she could fallagain, he slammed her into the wall closest her back using her ownleg as leverage. She cried out, letting her guard down. He used theopportunity to move on her, pressing against her and pushing herfurther into the brick as one hand slid up from her calf to herthigh,never relinquishing its grip, while the other calmly wrappedaround her neck, middle finger flexing.

Hecould feel her erratic breathing. She had lost to him not once, buttwice now, and it barely even took any effort on his part. Herfrightened eyes searched underneath his hair, but it was too shadowedbeneath his hood to see much of anything. All she could make out washis teeth, visible underneath his simpering lips.

“Quietnow. Your little outburst is bound to have attracted attention.” Heplaced his forehead to hers, leaning forward slightly to cover herface in a curtain of his hair. She tried to pull away, but hetightened his grip on her neck “Unless you want a whole lot ofnice people to die, you’ll playalong.” He pressed her harder into the alley wall, crushing herbody with his. He hiked her thigh up around his own and held it therewith the hand that still had a grasp on it, maneuvering his hipsbetween her now open legs.

Shemade a sound of disgust, trying again to turn from him, but he dughis fingernails into her thigh, eliciting a shocked gasp from her.Through the tendrils of his hair, she could see a few curious peoplebeginning to peak into the alley entrance, drawn by the sounds oftheir fighting. He pushed his face so close to hers that she couldfeel him smile.

“You’renot making this very convincing.” He whispered. “All it wouldtake is one little touchand I could dust them all.”

Sheswallowed hard, closing her eyes and preparing herself for what shehad to do. Slowly, she raised her arms up over Shigaraki’s shoulders,one hand resting uneasily on the back of his neck, the other tanglingup into his hair. She let her leg rest up in his hand instead ofsquirming, wrapping her knee around his thigh and relaxing her stanceso it appeared more natural.

Shigarakiwas absolutely not a fan of being touched. In fact, casual brushes inthe street were often grounds for a permanent ashing. But this? Oh,he could make an exception for this.

“Goodgirl. Show them that it’s just two lovers in an alleyway, looking fora little privacy.”He could smell her again, that scent he’d been dying for, trying sohard to emulate over the past few months. His heart rate was reachingpeak levels, but the blood was beginning to divert away from hisbrain. He couldn’t help himself. He ground into her a little bit, thefront of his jeans scraping against her body as he rutted, feelingthe warmth of her body.

“You’redespicable.” She seethed, swallowing down a wretch.

Hegiggled, letting his thumb run small circles over her exposed thigh.“Prove how heroic you are, Hero. Convinceme these people don’t deserve what I could do to them.”  

Hepushed his mouth to hers, instantly trying to snake his tongue intoher mouth. At first she was unresponsive, until he brought thefingers on her neck together and clasped at a necklace she had beenwearing. It crumbled instantaneously, sending a splay of ash downonto her chest. Almost immediately, she allowed him access, pliantlyopening her lips for him to invade and slowly responding to hisministrations.

Shetasted like she smelled, and it took every ounce of self control hehad not to push her further. Although her movements wereunenthusiastic and light, it didn’t matter to him. It was still her. He could feel every last bit of her body pressed against his own,every movement and muscle. Every curve she offered up to him and himalone and it was just like how he had imagined it would be in thedreams that had haunted his few dreaming hours ever since their firstmeeting.

Shigarakihad certainly not woken up that morning with the belief that he wouldhave his tongue shoved halfway down her throat that day. If he had,he likely would have been in a much more amicable mood. Right now, hefelt absolutely ecstatic. Hehad her right where he wanted her. Well, not rightwhere, but close enough. She was submitting to him because he knewher weakness. He wondered, in time, how far he could push thatweakness. How far was she willing to go?

But hewas nothing if not a strategist. He wouldn’t push it too far toofast. He wouldn’t risk it. He would chip away at her resolve slowly,breaking away her boundaries one at a time until there was nothingleft but her submission. If it meant threatening her friends, herfamily, random children on the street, he didn’t care. She wouldbe his. He decided that a longtime ago. She belonged to him, and frankly he didn’t really care whatshe had to say about it. It wasn’t her decision.

Eventually,the last of the onlookers had left, leaving behind a handful ofheckles from teenagers and reprimands from angry parents usheringtheir children away while covering their eyes. Her hand was yankingat his hair erratically, not in lust but in a likely plead for him toback off of her finally. He gave himself a minute longer, cherishingthe moment before withdrawing himself, unable to stop the grin thatcrawled up his face.

“See?It’s not so bad now, it is? You just saved all thoseidiot’s lives and all it took was a few minutes.”

Shecouldn’t stop herself. Her hands were shaking in rage, stomachchurning. She’d never felt so violated. Soutterly disgusted. Shecould taste him in the back of her throat and feel his leftoversaliva on her lips and it made her want to vomit.

Shelooked directly up at him, and spit in his face. It landed with in anundignified blob sliding down his cheek.

Ittook Shigaraki a moment to fully register what happened. He unhandedher leg, bringing it up to his face and squelching the small plop ofliquid between his fingers. Slowly, he raised his head up, finallygiving her a full view of his face for the first time.

Sheimmediately regretted her actions.

Helooked enraged, eyes open with beady pupils staring down at his hand.His cracked mouth was contorted in rage, snarling while rubbed threeof his fingers together, spreading the coating around. His eyesflashed up at hers, and his hand clamped down on her throat, fourthfinger twitching unsteadily.

“Youlittle brat.” He spat, tightening his grip more and more by thesecond until she could no longer breathe. “You think you’re allhigh and mighty, that just because you’re a Hero that there’s noconsequences for your actions. That you can treat people like trash.”His fingers dug in with bruising strength, and the longer he heldthem, the more little black dots began dancing in front of hervision. Her chest was trying desperately to inhale, but she couldn’twith his palm crushing her windpipe. Fear welled up inside her, andthe longer she struggled for breath, the more overpowering it became.“I can show you how wrong you are.”

“I-I’mSo-orry!” She croaked out, pleading with him for air. His eyesflashed dangerously, and he loosened his grip only enough that hecould make out her words.

“Speakup. I can’t hear you.”

“I’msorry! It was-” Her mind raced, searching for the right words toplacate him. “It was rude of me, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t havedone it. I beg your forgiveness, Shigaraki. Please forgive me!”

He lethis hand sit firm for a few more seconds. He was still twitching withanger, but something about hearing her beg, beg him forforgiveness sent a wave of pleasure through him. Of course she wasgoing to be defiant at first. He could forgive her this once. Afterall, she would be making it up to him in the end regardless.

Hesmiled down at her, ghosting his fingers on her neck as she coughedand sputtered, trying to catch her breath. “Just don’t do it again.I hate people with no manners.”

Sheshook her head, eyes bright and fearful. After that, she didn’t daretry using her quirk on him or bothering to fight him again. She wasentirely at his mercy. This guy was insane. He didn’t even need touse his quirk to kill her. He would just suffocate her and leave herbody in the alley way. What was his deal? Was he still harboring agrudge from their last encounter? Why was he here now?

Finally regaining her breath, she peered up at him hesitantly, studying hisface. “Did you follow me here?”

Heseemed taken back for a minute, before chuckling a little underneathhis breath. “Follow you here? No. I was actually here for acompletely separate reason and just happened to run into you. Isn’tthat lucky?”

“Yeah.Lucky.” She grunted, lamenting her choices. She knew she shouldhave stayed in bed today

“Iwas actually about to grab Midoriya when I saw you. I just couldn’thelp myself.”

Shefurrowed her brows. “But why?” She didn’t understand what thisman wanted with her. He didn’t seem to outright want her dead, butwasn’t content letting her live in peace either.

He letout a heinous cackle, letting three of his fingers on his free handwander up to his neck and scratch. Why was he telling her any ofthis? “I guess I just find you intriguing.” He tore at his neckanxiously for a moment while she stared at him. The way she waslooking at him was making him feel itchy and hot all over. Underneathhis hoody, he felt like it was one hundred degrees, which given theweather, might not have been far off. He felt uncomfortable in hisown skin, anxious, stomach twisting in knots. He hated thatshe had this control over him.

Hepulled his hand away from his sweating neck, reaching up to touch herface once more. He wanted to feel her skin, how soft it was. Justwanted to graze his fingers across her face so he could remember howshe felt even after she’d gone. However, when he raised it up by herhead, the sleeve of his jacket rode up his arm, revealing the pieceof cloth he had tied around his wrist.

Immediatelyher eyes were drawn to it, and she gulped hard, a horrifiedexpression etched on her features. “Is that… Is that my…”

Shigarakirealized what had spooked her. Tied around his wrist was theunmistakable pattern of her costume, ripped from her torso during theattack on U.S.J. His eyes darkened. There was no sense in lying toher now.

“Yourecognize it, huh?” He lowered his hand down, bringing it betweenboth of their faces. “I’ve kept it on me since.”

Herbreathing became inconsistent and staggered, mouth agape in terror.“W-why?”

Heleaned in again, scraping the cloth against her neck, hoping tosiphon some of her scent back onto it. “I think it helps keep mefocused.”

Hervision spiraled. She could ignore a few consistencies but this wasall to much to be a coincidence. Something she had done had gottenhis attentions enough to keep it on her, even endear herself to himin some twisted way. He wasn’t just doing this because it made heruncomfortable or to spite her like she initially thought. If shedidn’t know better, she would say it was something resembling acrush.

“S-Shigaraki,I don’t-” She cut herself off. What could she possibly say? ’Heysupervillain, not interested?’ 'Thanks for the flattery but I’m ahero?’ Our careers kind of make it impossible for us to be togetherbut thanks for the interest?

It didn’t reallymatter, she had a feeling he wasn’t interested in her opinion on thematter.

“You’reeverything I hate, you know.” His voice was soft, gentle even. Hehad hidden his eyes behind his hair again, and despite refusing tomove away from her, he seemed a few miles off. “You heroes. Youpiss me off. If I had my way, I would have killed every one of youthe first time we crossed paths.” There was a distant cold in hisvoice that made her shiver. “I wanted to. Kill you. It would havebeen easy too. All I had to do is wrap my fingers around your prettylittle neck and squeeze and you’d have been gone before you couldeven scream for help. I bet that really would have thrown one over anAll Might too. One of his precious students turned to dust while hewas in the same room. Sometimes I think I should have.”

There was nodeception in his voice. He was telling the truth. Somehow itterrified her more than when he had gotten violent. He lowered hishand back down, grabbing her chin with his thumb and index finger.

“But I havebetter ideas now. There are worse things than death.” Helifted his head, and she felt her soul plummet. His eyes were manicand deranged, boring down into her with the promise of unknownhorror. His smile was wide and frenzied, nearly breaking his crackedlips into shards all over again. There was a strange flush across hispallid cheeks, something almost akin to a blush, like he wasflustered even thinking about it.

She wanted to cry.She wanted to crawl away. Find a rock somewhere and hide under it,anywhere where he couldn’t find her. Something told her he wasn’tsaying this just to frighten her. The possibilities that could runthrough a madman’s mind were things she didn’t want to consider.Things that he considered worse than death were beyond the realm ofwhat she wanted to realize herself. He placed another soft kiss toher mouth, and she was too paralyzed in fear to stop him.

He looked like hewas about to speak when Denki’s voice rang through the alley way.“Hey, what gives? We’ve been waiting forever!” Both she andTomura turned their heads toward the entrance to see Denki standingthere with a beaming smile, eyes closed and holding up several bagsof food in his closed hands. “We didn’t wait for ya, but we got youleftovers! Took us forever to find you! What the hell are you doingdown here anyway?” He opened his eyes and nearly dropped the food,face red with embarrassment as a few of her classmates crowded aroundas well with equally shocked expressions.

“Someone’sgetting’ some.” Eijiro whispered to a blushing Mina who wasgiggling behind her hand. Momo scowled over at the pair, giving thema death glare.

“Are weinterrupting something?” Fumikage asked, trying to be as polite aspossible in the given situation.

“I didn’t realizeyou were with so many people!” Shigaraki immediately withdrew hishands, stepping away from her but taking care to keep his faceshadowed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to keep you held up.”

Eijiro chuckled athis words and she felt like she could just die.

“I’m off then. Itwas nice catching up. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon!” Hespoke loud enough for them to hear before he leaned inconspicuouslyand whispered in her ear. “If any of you follow me, I’ll get angry.I’d hate to kill half his class without All Might here to see it.”

He started walkingbut stopped short a few seconds later. “Oh! One last thing, hero.”He pulled her in close to his side, hands fishing his phone out ofhis pocket. “You promised me a picture.” He held his phone up,getting one snapshot with her in frame. Although his features werestill almost entirely hidden behind his hair, she was completelyexposed, expression like a deer in headlights. It would do for now.He placed his phone back in his pockets, giving her one last lookbefore turning away and ambling off down further into the alleyway,turning out of her sights after a few seconds.

“Aren’t you goingto introduce us to your friend?” Mina called, still giggling behindher palm.

“No!” She shookher head vigorously, trying to hold back the tears and the sick thatwere clawing their way up her throat, acting as natural as she could.“Look, can we just get out of here? Please?”

Her friends alllooked at her confused for a moment, shrugging before following heras she took off.

As he heard theirvoices drift further and further off, Shigaraki brought his fingersup to his lips, grazing where hers had been. He still tasted her, andhe was trying to savor every moment. He didn’t know for sure how longit would be until she was in his arms again, only that she would be.He needed to calm down. He needed to be patient.

He forced himselfdown the streets and passageways away from the mall, farther from herbut thinking of nothing but all the while. His head didn’t feel anyclearer, if anything it felt more clouded and stimulated than it hadbefore, but he was fine with that. He didn’t get to ask Midoriya whatthe difference between him and Stain was, but that mattered little tohim now. There would be other opportunities for that. He did cursehimself as he remembered he had forgotten to pick up his game, but heshrugged it off. If his estimates were correct, it wouldn’t beavailable for much longer anyway.

The sun sank behindthe horizon, giving way to the darkness of the night sky. When hefelt secure enough, he placed Father back on his face, making his wayback home under the cover of shadow. His body was shivering, but notfrom the cold. He could hardly believe anything that happened today.

When he finallyturned the knob to enter the bar, Kurogiri immediately turned towardshim in a panic.“Tomura Shigaraki, is all well? The mall youattended today has been shut down. I was worried that you weredetained and perhaps incarcerated.”

“Don’t be stupid,Kurogiri. I’m right here.” He lumbered over to the bar, sittinghalf-haphazardly in the seat. Kurogiri decided it was better not toquestion him, opting to pour him a drink instead. He turned towardsthe TV, which was playing news footage of the mall, giving minimaldetails about the incident but describing a notorious villain spottedthere. “So she told.” He muttered under his breath, smirking. “Ifigured she would.”

Kurogiri heard hiswords, but decided it would go against his mental health to questionTomura on the incident if it was indeed what he thought it was.Revealing his face would have far reaching consequences for theleague. Judging by the way he was lovingly picking at the rattedmaterial tied around his wrist, he had found that girl again. So hisobsession hadn’t in fact died. This would not bode well.

The rest of thenight continued on relatively average. Tomura drank and cussed andranted about All Might and the Hero Killer Stain, staring down at hisphone in the intervals. Kurogiri polished his glasses, offeringadvice where he could and bearing the brunt of Tomura’s abuses whenhe couldn’t. It almost gave him hope that maybe Shigaraki could putthis whole incident behind him instead of obsessing over it like heoften did.

That is, until mostof the way through the night, Tomura stumbled off the bar stool,clinging onto the counter as he shambled towards his room in theback. He paused momentarily, turning to face Kurogiri for a fewseconds before slamming his door.

“Hey Kurogiri,you know those old storage rooms we have? I need them cleaned out.We’ll be having a guest soon. I want to make sure she’s comfortable.”

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of August 21st, 2019

Best of this Week: Superman: Year One - Book Two - Frank Miller, John Romita Jr., Danny Miki, Alex Sinclair and John Workman

Superman has always stood for Truth, Justice and the American Way. 

This has never been more true (arguably) than right here in Superman: Year One, where Clark Kent becomes a US Navy Sailor. I briefly touched upon it at the end of the last issue, but this one really resonated with me in a way that no comic has in a little while. Other books have made me feel feelings of fear, disgust and elation beyond compare, but this one makes me feel the bittersweet memories of my own experience.

I remembered my first haircut, carrying my seabag across the base, marching and all of the PT (physical training) that I had to endure for those grueling two months. Clark isn’t fazed by any of it. It takes a few clippers to cut his dense hair. He breezes through the PT, noting how hard it is for everyone else to do and when he has to qualify for using a pistol, he hits the mark dead center every single shot. There were a few superstars like Clark when I was in boot camp and seeing that written and excellently drawn by John Romita Jr., made me feel something of a kinship to one of my favorite heroes.

You can see the struggle in his shipmates faces as they sweat and heave with Clark monologuing in his mind that he can hear their lungs about to burst or their legs about to give out. That shit was me. Every single PT test leaving me winded, marching at a double time… I hated every second of it. But through all of it, I felt proud. I wanted to get through, to push myself harder than I ever could. 

Clark doesn’t feel that. How could he? He’s an alien from another planet with abilities beyond compare and he could do anything he set his mind to. But what does he choose to instead? He answers the call of duty, he chooses to serve his country and his fellow man. It’s ridiculous, but at the same time absolutely commendable and inspiring. If I were to level criticism at the first two acts of this book, however, it would definitely be the lack of real feeling of camaraderie that Sailors feel together in Boot Camp. Never once do we see Clark interact with his shipmates in any meaningful way, aside from his Captain later on. The feeling of pride is there, but the friendships and relationships that come with it does leave a little bit of the story feeling hollow in favor of a less than great, but still good subplot later.

Another problem I have is… I don’t know how accurate print media and comics are allowed to be with military rank and titles, but Kurtzberg is supposed to be a Captain, but wears the insignia of a Petty Officer Second Class and Chief Petty Officer at two separate points. It’s a mildly irritating and nitpicky thing, but what can you do?

Of course, Clark's path diverges greatly from my own. A little bit before the pistol qualification section, he gains the attention of a Captain Kurtzberg and after his perfect scores, he's allowed to try out his skills further with an assault rifle, which he also excels at. Kurtzberg recommends him for more advanced training and soon after, he trains to become a Navy SEAL. I don’t have a singular clue as to what the SEAL lifestyle is like, but training he’s made to endure is even worse, though you wouldn’t know it from how he reacts to it all.

It’s here at SEAL training that the first seeds of the subplot, later becoming the hook of Act Three are sewn. Clark begins to hear the calling of the sea. It’s something that some deployed Sailors still feel to this day, the Siren Song or Mermaid Call that drives most men mad with how beautiful their voices are. Kurtzberg calls Clark out during one evening of PT and makes him to push ups on the shore of the beach after Clark tells him that the Captain should see how pretty “they” are. Unable to sleep during the night, Clark sneaks out of his barracks to watch the beings on the coast when Kurtzber appears next to him, warning him to not tell anyone about what they’ve seen as Kurzberg too knows of their beauty and the world of wonders that they live in. 

If you’ve been reading Superman stories for a long period of time, things may start to click as what or who may be calling Clark. After our hero accidentally starts a bar fight while trying to defend the honor of a woman, he’s punished by having to use his toothbrush to clean the head (bathroom) and garbage cans. After finishing his chores way into the night, he makes a dummy in his rack (bed) and sets off to explore the sea, taking to the water like a fish since he doesn’t actually need oxygen. 

He follows the sounds of the voices calling and finally see them, Mermaids, laughing at this strange human. One in particular catches his eye, Lori Lemaris, one of Superman’s original love interests from the late 1950s. He follows her as she laughs, until her voice turns to tears, seeing a submarine having crashed into their city. In one of his first of many acts of heroism, Clark lifts the sub off of the city, saves the people and helps them rebuild just before Morning Colors. Lori begs him to stay, to become her husband and King, but he tells her that the people up there need him, but that he will be back. As always, Clark is torn between two worlds, but his first thought is always to honor his commitments because he’s such a good guy.

Romita Jrs art shines best in these few pages for me. Lori is absolutely beautiful, playful and the visuals of the underside of the ocean are stunning. Everything’s a beautiful hue of blue except for the vegetation and Lori, who’s colored with yellow and purple clothing. Clark looks amazingly strong and happily curious as he saves the people of Atlantis. Romita Jrs. lines are amazingly crisp and he makes great use of only a few hatch lines to shade things. Everything is thoroughly enjoyable to look at, even the way that everything flows under the water is awesome.

Clark manages to return back to the barracks just in time as Kurtzberg watches on, knowing where Clark’s been and thinking to himself that the young SEAL better keep those memories clean and pure because he’s witnessed something amazing. He swam with the angels. There’s a three page long training montage where Clark shows just how efficient he can be in combat, embarrassing one of his shipmates so hard that he’s pulled aside and given his first assignment.

Things take a dark turn as Clark and his team are made to infiltrate a ship that’s been hijacked by pirates. During the training, as Clark thought to himself just how easy it would be to kill, he started to get a pit in his stomach. Things weren’t sitting right, especially as Kurtzberg egged him on by saying, “That there is how to kill a man good!” This stuck with Clark as he did his bet to avoid killing any of the hijackers. He saw how monstrously they murdered the crew of the ship and he felt himself getting more angry, but he still couldn’t bring himself to take a life. 

Things reach a head as the team reaches the control deck and Clark still refuses to kill any of the enemies. Kurtzberg lambasts Clark and orders to give him some corpses, until one of the hijackers pulls out a grenade. Everyone starts to panic as the mission goes FUBAR, but Clark utilizes his strength to stop the grenade, subtly, making it seem like it was a dud. 

While he ended up saving the lives of his fellowsailors, his reckless actions reward him with an honorable discharge. Kurtzberg advocates for him, but ultimately Clark has to pack his sea bag and say goodbye to his friends. Before he departs, he has something of a heart to heart with Kurtzberg. The Captain tells him to hone his skills, that he could do amazing things with his gifts and Clark salutes him, walking into the ocean to find his destiny.

The way this scene is framed, with the lighting indicating an early morning, makes everything seem like the future is absolutely bright for Clark. Having Kurtzberg abandon his badass attitude of authority and strength to give Clark advice while shaking his hand like a man is an amazing and heartfelt sight. For the first time, Clark doesn't have to try to lower his strength, it just comes naturally.

All of this is bittersweet. Clark Kent wanted something different than his life in Smallville. He knew that he would have to hide his abilities if he stayed, he knew that he could do so much more for the world. He chose to serve his country, one of the best things a Patriot can do, but his heart was too good for it. His skill and power raised him to a position that did not align with his own moral code. Clark would never kill, but no good deed goes unpunished.

The third and final act of this book comes with Clark returning to Atlantis, seeking out his new love, Lori. She reacts happily once she sees him again, calling him the love of her life and saying that he should meet her family. Then they… frolic in their special hiding place until the next day. She tells him to wear his best as he is to finally meet her father, Lord Poseidon. He emerges from the shadows in his iconic red and blue with fish swimming all around him and the flora lighting up in his presence. 

Poseidon isn't amused, seeing Clark as a little standing frog and proceeds to put Clark through impossible tasks to win his daughters hand. Clark begins to find the true scope of his powers as he concentrates and releases his heat vision on one of the enemies. It's a stellar display of power and control as Clark monologues that this fire inside of him was his and his alone. Alex Sinclair did an amazing job of portraying the ability and powerful it is with intense and vibrant reds.

Poseidon pulls out every stop that he can to try and crush Superman. He sends his best warriors, but Clark doesn't even acknowledge them trying to crush him. Stone automatons fall to his might. A giant squid swallows him whole and vomits him back up, unfettered by the stomach acid. Becoming increasingly enraged, Poseidon summons the Kraken and uses the fabled beast to try and crush Superman to death. 

As the tentacle lifts and Lori cries, thinking her one true love has died, Clark stands right back up with a smile. Lori jumps for joy, the people are stunned and in a silent rage, Poseidon calls off the Kraken and plots revenge on the frog that he couldn't crush.

Throughout this entire act, Poseidon monologues to himself about the bug that wouldn't be crushed or burned or destroyed in any way. Clark just smiled, snickered and mocked Poseidon the entire time. There was no malice in his smirk, just the boyish exuberance of love and youth. Poseidon though Clark wanted his crown, but really he just wanted Lori, a place to finally be himself and a peace of mind that he's never truly had.

Superman: Year One has been amazing thus far. While it's only a few peoples take on what would happen if Superman joined the military, I feel like it's a great and accurate one in line with who Superman would be as a man. Given the lessons that he'd learned from Pa Kent, how could we expect him to be ready to kill at any moment? Instead, we see his compassion for humanity shine through as he's even willing to preserve the lives of absolute monsters. 

John Romita Jr. captures the apathy of an effortless Clark in his early career, the wonder when hears the beautiful call of love from the sea and the conflict of a man caught between duty and morality. To say that this is some of his best art in years would be an understatement when it concerns this entire story. While the last issue focused heavily on the vast normality of the midwestern United States, this issue feels more tight and focused on the inner turmoil of Superman. The locales feel more linear, allowing us to explore more of Clark's own inner thought processes. He is surrounded by other strong men, but he is in a league of his own until he meets Lori.

Superman: Year One is a great journey of self-discovery. Other Superman stories have tried similar themes with varying degrees of success. Superman: Earth One went in the hard direction of Superman being an apathetic douche that knows he's a God and lowers himself to the level of men until someone bigger makes him want to protect the citizens of Earth. Superman: American Alien grounded Superman near as much as this book does, but what makes them different is the journey Clark takes to find himself.

This book warmed my heart something fierce with it's incredible storytelling and art. With issue two being this good, I can only hope that the next one will be nearly as amazing. Given that the preview of the next one shows Superman holding up the Daily Planet globe, we are absolutely going to be in for a treat. 

Highest of recommends.