#also if you see the mess that is the propellers uh- no you don’t <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[arandomocto]

heavy is the head that wears the crown- or, something like that…

[stressy-enby]

The Four Times Katsuki Bakugo Wanted to Kiss Eijiro Kirishima and the One Time he Did

If any of you remember that Kiribaku hate anon from a few weeks ago, I should tell you that the idea for this story was born in the middle of that incident, because I’m petty as hell.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, mentions of panic attacks and self loathing

Masterlist

1

“C’mon!” Kirishima roared, hand outstretched. Without hesitation, Katsuki created a blast under him, propelling him across the sky.

He grabbed Kirishima’s hand, grinning like a maniac. “You idiots!”

Kirishima grinned back.

It was over in an instant. A few more words were exchanged, but Katsuki was on autopilot. He glanced back behind him, watching the villains shrink away until they were unseen. He was out. He was safe. Before he knew it, the groud was under his feet again. He wobbled a little, straightening up. Deku called someone, Todoroki it sounded like as the group merged with Kamino Ward’s massive crowd.

Kirishima dropped Katsuki’s hand, and he felt something odd prickle in his gut. He stared hard at the red-head, who was still smiling like nothing was wrong in the world.

“What the hell are you grinning for?” Katsuki snapped. “You look like a moron.”

“We got you back, I’m happy!” Kirishima exclaimed, his smile turning teasing. “And don’t think I didn’t see you smiling earlier, Bakugo.”

“Tch. I was just glad to be out of there.” Katsuki shook his head. “But I guess seeing your stupid face is better than seeing those villains.” He added after an afterthought.

“Hey, I’ll take it!” Kirishima laughed. The sound was scraggly, as if he hadn’t laughed in days. Katsuki figured there hadn’t been much reason to laugh, but the broken noise still made his head spin.

…What?

He scowled, and looked pointedly at the ground, hoping it would signal the end of the conversation. It didn’t stop him from still thinking about that bright smile. It didn’t stop him from hearing that bittersweet laugh.

Stop that. What the hell is wrong with you?

Katsuki allowed himself a glance back up at Kirishima, who was saying something to Iida. His hands gestured as he spoke, and Katsuki realized that he could still feel his phantom touch in his hand.

No, that’s not a thing. No you can’t. Shut the fuck up. He scolded himself. This was getting absurd.

Though his brain screamed at him to stop, Katsuki still couldn’t bring himself to look away from the boy. Kirishima finally noticed him staring. 

“You’re okay, right? They didn’t hurt you or anything, did they?” He pursed his lips, brow creasing in concern.

“No. I was handling it.”

“If you say so, man. Just glad to have you back.”

Thank you.

The words bubbled in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say them. His pride wouldn’t let them. Kirishima’s dumb face, written all over in unnecessary worry made it hard for him to say anything.

“Oh,” Iida gasped, hand clasped over his mouth.

Katsuki’s eyes ripped from Kirishima to see what had startled the class rep. On the large TV mounted into one of Kamino’s tall buildings was live footage of the scene he’d just escaped from. The League of Villains were gone, but the Boss Villain in all black still stood there. And there was All Might.

Suddenly Katsuki’s odd feelings became the least of his concern.

. . .

2

Kirishima was late.

Katsuki slammed his hand on his desk, an irritated growl passing his lips. He crossed the room, and banged on the wall connecting their dorms. “Shitty Hair, hurry your ass up!”

There was a muffled response. Katsuki sighed heavily, shoving his way out of his room to see what the deal was.

“OI! Kirishima! What the hell are you doing in there?” He knocked loudly on his door. “I thought you wanted to do homework together.”

Kirishima’s nervous voice floated through the wooden barrier. “Uh, sorry, Bakugo! Something-uh-”

I can’t deal with this.

With another annoyed noise, Katsuki barged in without any other warning. “You’d better have a good-”

Red. There was red all over the floor. It was mostly in the little bathroom off to the side, but a little of the bright sticky substance had spilled into the main room. Kirishima sat cross-legged on the floor, furiously scrubbing at it with a soggy washcloth. He looked up, not all that surprised to see his friend, and smiled weakly.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki yelled. It had scared him at first, thinking it had been blood. Upon a second look though, he could tell that it was far too thick and too bright to be blood. “What the hell is all that?”

“Hair dye,” Kirishima admitted, his hand connecting with the back of his neck. “I was trying to touch up my roots, but I accidentally knocked over the open bottle, and well…”

“Idiot. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“What? That I dye my hair?”

“No, stupid, I knew that! That you made a mess!”

“Oh! I didn’t wanna bother you.” The boy ran his hand through his hair, which Katsuki noticed was hanging low around his shoulders, like it had been the night he’d come for him in Kamino. “Also, I feel really dumb right now.”

“Don’t.” Katsuki leaned into the bathroom, grabbing another towel. He ran it under the faucet, before crouching down to scrub at the dye himself.

“You- you’re helping?” Kirishima’s red eyes widened, smile pulling at his mouth.

“The faster this gets cleaned up, the faster we do homework.”

The smile pulled wider, until he was wearing the biggest, toothiest grin Katsuki was sure he’d ever seen. “Thanks, Bakugo! I really appreciate it.”

The blond’s face began to feel warmer, so he quickly hung his head, focusing on the mess and hoping his unruly hair would hide his blush. “Whatever. Just be more careful. You could’ve gotten your stupid ass hurt if you slipped in it.”

“It won’t happen again, I promise!”

If Katsuki Bakugo was a braver person, he would’ve leaned right over the pool of sticky hair dye and kissed that idiot right there. The idea sounded more than appealing. He’d been thinking about doing it for weeks, ever since Kamino. 

But for all his bravado, Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t brave enough to do it. Instead, he pressed his towel harder than he needed to into the floor, as if he could wipe away his frustration with himself along with all the hair dye.

. . .

3

“Wait, I can steal a star?” Kirishima realized excitedly.

“Do it.” Katsuki grinned wickedly.

“Oh, don’t you dare, Kirishima.” Kaminari hissed.

“He has the coins, he’s gonna do it!” Sero groaned.

“Oh I’m totally doing it.” Kirishima triumphantly tapped a button on his controller, agreeing to the transaction.

Kaminari and Sero went bananas. It was fantastic. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

He had been skeptical about Mario Party. It looked pretty dumb, if he was being honest, which he most always was. But when Kirishima suggested they play teams, and then gave a very impassioned speech about how to the two of them could do anything, who was Katsuki Bakugo to deny him?

God, I sound like an idiot.

Personal feelings aside though, he was glad he’d caved. Kirishima had been right; they were kicking ass.

Katsuki cackled as Lakitu fished a star away from Peach, Kaminari’s character, and brought it back to Kirishima’s Mario.

“Fuck yeah!” Katsuki cheered as he directed Bowser to the star still on the board.

“And they get another- UGH!” Sero dropped his controller, draping an arm over his eyes. “Oh, this is torture.”

“Five to one. Hell yeah!” Kirishima whooped.

“You haven’t won yet.” Kaminari dramatically pointed a finger at the pair.

“But we’re going to.” Katsuki promised.

“Kaminari, there are two turns left.” Sero pointed out, still sulking. “The only thing that could possibly save us now are the bonus stars, and even then it probably still won’t help much. Not when we’re four stars behind.”

“Ugh, this suuuuucks.” The golden eyed boy groaned, joining his partner in agony.

“You losers have to roll, it’s your turn.” Katsuki thrust Sero’s controller back into his hands.

“Yeah, finish out strong!” Kirishima encouraged, pointing to the screen. “Look, the next star’s close to you, Kaminari, you could probably get it.”

“It won’t save your sorry asses though.”

“Not helping, Bakugo.” Sero deadpanned. “Not helping at all.”

Kirishima chuckled, knocking his knee against Katsuki’s. “I highly doubt he’s trying to.”

The ash-blond smirked at him, leaning back against the couch cushions. He tried to ignore how Kirishima hadn’t moved his knee. He tried to ignore how his own body seemed to be gravitating towards Kirishima’s. Katsuki had been trying to ignore the signs for two months now, but it was becoming more and more obvious what was going on.

Katsuki Bakugo was officially head-over-heels and face-in-the-mud in love with Eijiro Kirishima. The thought was slowly killing him inside, because how could he ever feel the same way? How could charismatic, energetic, “Live without regrets” Kirishima ever love him? 

Depression seeped in as Sero and Kaminari’s turn ended, and he had to mindlessly press the button to roll the dice. 

I’m a fucking idiot.

Still immersed in the game and their imminent loss, Kaminari and Sero didn’t notice Katsuki’s sudden shift in attitude. Kirishima did though. Worry coursed through him as he wondered what was troubling his friend so much to make him look so distant and distraught.

“Bakugo?” He whispered, leaning in to keep his other friends out of it. “You don’t look so good, man.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki growled though gritted teeth. “Let’s just finish this stupid-ass game already. I’m tired.”

. . . 

4

Katskui’s world warped and twisted. He was standing in front of a swirling black portal, the villain Dabi’s hand wrapped around his neck. He felt panic building in his chest, but before he could process it all, he was jerked backwards. It was as if a string wrapped around his torso had been yanked, hard. Next thing he knew he was watching All Might fight All for One. His stomach lurched. His body felt weightless, and not entirely corporeal. 

This is a dream, Katsuki reminded himself, but that didn’t stop the familiar panic from seizing him like a fist closing tightly around his heart. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything. He silently screamed at himself, cursing his incompetence, his weakness, his uselessness. 

Katsuki sat up so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. He breathed heavily, hands clenching in his hair. He brought his legs to his chest, and lowered his head so his forehead touched his knees. 

“It wasn’t real,” he reminded himself breathlessly. “You weren’t in any danger,”

Then why didn’t you do anything?

The thought was an ugly one, but hardly unfamiliar. It was one that plagued him nearly every time he had a dream like this. If he couldn’t spur himself into action even when he was dreaming, how the hell did he except to get anything done when there was real danger? How did he except himself to be a hero?

If you hadn’t been so damn weak, you never would’ve gotten caught and caused all that trouble!

Katsuki flinched at his mother’s words, still reverberating in his skull months after she’d said them. 

I’m fucking useless.

Temper suddenly flared, he unfolded himself from his fetal position, grabbing the closet thing, which was an electrical alarm clock. Forcefully yanking the clock so the plug was pulled out of the socket, Katsuki hurled it to the floor. It landed with an unsatisfactory dull clunk, which only enflamed his anger more. 

With a guttural growl, he lumbered out of bed, snatching the clock back up. This time, when he lobbed it again, he aimed for the wall next to his bed. With more force behind it, the clock hit the wall with a resounding CRACK. Katsuki watched, still panting as it tumbled onto the bed. He doubted it’d ever work again.

Taking a deep breath, he tossed the clock back to the floor, only there was no anger behind the gesture now. Just bitter resignation. Katsuki crawled back onto the bed, leaning against the wall.

“Bakugo?” A knock sounded just left of his head. “Everything ok? Did you throw something?”

Fuck. He’d woken Kirishima. Katsuki had forgotten about the red-head sleeping just next door. Anger coursed through him again, but this time it was laced with guilt. Idiot.

“It’s nothing,” Katsuki called back through the wall “Go back to sleep.”

Hoping Kirishima would leave it there, but knowing he wouldn’t, Katsuki buried himself in his blanket. Don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over-

Knock knock knock. “Bakugo? Can I come in?”

Goddamnit. 

With an explosive sigh, Katsuki dragged himself back out of bed, stepping on the abandoned alarm clock in the process. “Shit!” He winced, kicking the now useless piece of plastic aside and rubbing his sore foot.

Kirishima knocked again.

“I’m comin’, quit whining.” The blond groaned, opening the door.

“Dude, what happened?” Worry laced Kirishima’s voice. His eyes darted from Katsuki to the room behind him, presumably searching for the source of the sound that’d awoken him.

“Nothing. I had a dream and I got mad.” Katsuki said lamely. “It’s not a big deal. Go back to bed.”

“Did you throw the alarm?” Kirishima ignored him, sidestepping the boy into his room. “Why? What kind of dream did you have?”

“None of your business.”

“Bakugo,”

His voice was soft and coaxing. It was the kind of voice you used when you were trying to get a small child to come out of a hiding spot. It was appropriate, Katsuki certainly felt small in that moment. He felt a dull ache in his chest at the sound of it. He sighed heavily again, sitting on the edge of his bed, walls caving in. “It was about Kamino.”

“Oh,”

Katsuki hung his head, not wanting the boy to see the tears burning the corners of his eyes. He felt the bed dip as Kirishima joined him.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” He said quietly. “None of it. Not the kidnapping, not the fight, not even All Might’s retirement.”

“If I hadn’t gotten caught-”

“None of us couldn’t prevented that. It was a surprise attack, we couldn’t have seen it coming. You were overwhelmed, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Katsuki felt a warm hand cover his knee. He looked up at Kirishima, seeing nothing but warmth.

“I feel weak.” Katsuki admitted.

“Don’t.”

Don’t. It was the same thing he’d told Kirishima when he said he’d felt dumb for spilling his hair dye all those months ago. Though he’d all but forgotten about the exchange, it all rushed back now, like a tidal wave that’d been held back by a dam. 

“Thank you.”

There was more to say than that. More than Katsuki thought he could actually articulate. Those two small words carried more messages than he could ever say.

Kirishima seemed to understand, though. He didn’t ask for elaboration. He simply gave the toothy grin Katsuki had grown to love, patted him on the back, and said “You’re welcome.”

. . .

5

BOOM

Gym Beta rumbled as Katsuki leveled a particularly strong blast against Kirishima, who took the brunt of it unflinchingly.

“Woah, that was a big one!” The red head batted the smoke away, deactivating his quirk. “How’re you not tired? We’ve been at this for an hour!”

“Or course I’m tired, dimwit. I’m human, aren’t I?” Katsuki rolled his eyes, and whipped beads of sweat off his forehead. “I’ve been active so I’m sweating more. That’s what’s making my blasts more powerful.”

“Oh, yeah! That makes sense.” Kirishima chuckled, grabbing his and his the blond’s water bottles. “Man, you sure are lucky, Bakugo.”

“Huh?”

“With your quirk, I mean.” Kirishima explained, tossing the other bottle, which Katsuki caught deftly. “It’s so strong and flashy, and it only gets stronger the longer you use it! You’re gonna be a great hero some day. I just hope I can keep up with you.”

“Not this shit again,” Katsuki groaned, taking a swig from his water. “You’re strong. How many times do we have to have this conversation, Shitty Hair?”

“I know, I know,” Kirishima waved him off, also taking a drink. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate you saying that! It’s just hard to believe, y’know?”

Katsuki was quiet for a minute. It sucked because he did know. His friend’s words hit closer to home than he had probably intended. He knew first hand how difficult it was to change your mind when you’d already convinced yourself of something, no matter how often people told you otherwise. 

Katsuki didn’t say any of this, though. “It’s late. We should head back.” Is what he said instead.

“Right,” Kirishima sighed, disappointment heavy in his voice. His eyes flashed with hurt as he turned his back to pick up his gym bag.

Damnit, say something.

 “Kirishima,” 

He turned back, surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Yeah?”

“I don’t like it when you look down on yourself. You’re better than that, even if you don’t think so.”

“Woah, where’s this coming from?” There was laughter in his voice.

Katsuki shrugged, scuffing his toe against the cement floor. “I just need you to hear it. Even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

The smile that spread across Kirishima’s face wasn’t the huge shit-eating grin Katsuki had gotten so used to. It was a new one. This one was shy and grateful. This smile came with a small blush, the lightest dusting of pink across the boy’s cheeks. 

Oh fuck. Katsuki felt his own face heat up. 

“Thank you Bakugo. That really means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

Suddenly Katsuki was restless. Here he was, standing in front Eijiro Kirishima, a boy he’d thought about kissing a hell of a lot more than he was willing to admit, and he wasn’t doing a single thing. Suddenly, he felt like he had to do something.

“Hey. You know that thing you say about living without regrets?”

“Oh, yeah? What about it?”

Before he could think too much about it, Katsuki closed the gap between his and Eijiro, and pressed his lips to his.

Eijiro let out a surprised squeak, but didn’t pull back. Instead, his hand found Katsuki’s shoulder, and he pulled his closer. The kiss was awkward, and a little too forceful on the blond’s part. But it was happening. The kiss several months in the making was finally happening, and Katsuki was wondering what the hell had taken him so long?

“How long have you wanted to do that?” Eijio asked with a breathy laugh as they pulled apart.

Katsuki pursed his lips, considering. “I think since Kamino.”

“Since the final exams, for me.”

Katsuki scowled. “You mean I could’ve pulled this shit way earlier?” The red head laughed again, this time it was less breathy. “I guess, yeah. What stopped you?”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” the blond grumbled, crossing his arms. “What a waste.”

“Aw, don’t say that! I was too scared to do it, too!” Eijiro planted both hands firmly on Katsuki’s shoulders, beaming. “But it’s ok! Cause you did it!”

Katsuki chuckled a little, burying his face in Eijiro’s shoulder and wrapping his shaking arms around him. He returned the embrace ten-fold, squeezing Katsuki so tightly he thought he’d pop. He let him, though. 

It felt good to be held. So good, it might’ve even been worth all those wasted months.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you,” Eijiro whispered into Katsuki’s shirt.

Katsuki squeezed tighter. Defiantly worth it.

[trashyswitch]

The Strangely Modified Robot

Remus and Virgil (mostly Remus) come across Logan who looks like he'd been quite busy with making a robot of some kind. Remus and Virgil follow Logan to his room to find out what it is.

This prompt was suggested by that EEF anon that has written to me a few times! HI EEF! I hope you enjoy the fanfic! And I also hope this still counts as a machine!

Virgil groaned as he was pulled all the way to Logan’s room by Remus’s strong grip. He was too tired to deal with this today. But, he made the mistake of letting Remus into his room and now; he’s gotta suffer through hours of gorey, stressful ‘playtime’ with Remus. Maybe Remus could compromise by giving him a dozen bat-spider sidekicks?

But everything screeched to a halt as Remus’s eyes fell on a nerd in his usual black shirt carrying tools, broken wires and a tire. Virgil’s body and face hit Remus’s back, halting Virgil upon impact.

“Hiiiii Logan! What are you up to?” Remus asked. He walked closer and pointed at one of the items. “And what’s with the tire?”

Logan smiled and started walking past them. “I’m making a robot. Would you like to see?” Logan told him.

Remus gasped and clapped his hands. “Would I?!” He replied excitedly, following Logan. Virgil groaned, but smiled and started to walk away.

“COME ON VIRGIL!” Remus grabbed his arm and pulled the emo along with him. Virgil yelped in surprise as he was literally dragged along for the ride. Logan had walked back into his room and placed his tools in a storage cabinet hidden in his closet. While Logan was doing that, Remus let Virgil lay onto the bed and sat down in the blue comfy chair in the corner of the room. “So: a robot?” Remus teased. “What kiiiind of robot?” Remus asked, leaning his chin on his palm.

Logan looked at Remus with a somewhat forced smile and grabbed the robot. “A car.”

Remus tilted his head as he looked at it. It...looked like a typical remote control truck. To be specific, it looked like a Monster Truck the size of a forearm with overly large wheels attached to it. It was...different.

Remus didn’t strike Logan as the monster truck type. He could imagine Logan with a James Bond kind of car, or maybe a police car.

But a monster truck? That was completely out of Logan’s comfort zone!

Remus carefully poked the monster truck with his finger. “Where did you buy this?” Remus asked.

“Best Buy.” Logan replied.

“Okay.” Remus picked it up and looked at the bottom of it. “Why a monster truck? You don’t look like a monster truck kind of person.” Remus admitted.

Logan chuckled. “I’m not. But, a monster truck was preferred for this specific type of machine.” Logan told him.

The nerd pulled out the remote control that was connected to it through bluetooth, and started clicking buttons. Suddenly, the wheels started spinning and turning! Remus quickly put it down, and watched as the truck drove around. “I’d like you to lay down and sit still, please.” Logan told Remus.

Remus tilted his head, but quickly laid himself down.

Using its wheels, the monster truck climbed itself up Remus’s belly and drove up the chest.

“Hehehehey! Ihihit tihihicklehes ahaha lihihihittle!” Remus giggled.

Logan couldn’t stop himself from smiling at that reaction. He brought the monster truck up the middle of Remus’s chest, and stopped it.

“What-” Remus lifted his head up, accidentally triggering a ‘scanning mode’. Remus widened his eyes and watched as the truck grew a helicopter propeller and lit up Remus’s face and chest with a darker blue light shining from its front headlamps. The truck flew backwards and scanned Remus’s body from head to toe with the dark blue light.

“Oooooh! Is it scanning me?” Remus asked.

Logan nodded. “Mhm! It is.” he replied.

Logan clicked one last button and watched as the helicopter lowered itself and landed on the ground. Then, Logan smiled and watched as the body scan revealed some sort of image on the roof of the truck. It was a reference image of a body from skull to the bottoms of the feet, and different colors had started highlighting the different spots on the body image.

Logan smiled at this. “Well, would you look at that:” Logan clicked the button to open its propellers and let it fly up and above Remus again. “You seem to be very sensitive.” Logan reacted.

The monster truck flew itself a little lower and started growing up to 10 separate thin arms with joints. Remus widened his eyes and let out an “Oooooh!” sound in curiosity. The 10 arms started lowering down to Remus’s body and focused on places like his sides, his armpits, his belly, his hips, and his abs.

“What are these supposed- GAHAA!” Remus threw his head back and guffawed in surprise as a two-second shocking, vibrating feeling from two of the arms, started zapping his sides. Logan walked up to Remus, put the remote control down beside him and pinned Remus’s arms above his head. “Wait, WHAT?! LOGAN! LET-!” Remus squealed and immediately started tugging as the ten separate arms zapped and prodded his ticklish spots. Virgil sat up and looked to where the danger was. But he quickly dropped his jaw as he stared at the confusing, yet somewhat amusing scene happening right beside him in the very same bedroom.

“Whahahahat IHIHIHIS thihihihihis?!” Remus asked.

“This is a Tickling Truck. It’s a monster truck modified with stimulating modules meant to stun and/or tickle you depending on your preference choice.” Logan told him, looking at the switch that had 3 settings it could switch to: Tickle, Stun, and Energize.

Virgil looked at the weird helicopter truck with thin arms poking and tickling different spots.

“The Tickle Truck is capable of scanning people’s sensitive areas, climbing around with its wheels and arms, and is capable of tickling people no matter the position the ticklee is in.” Logan further explained. “For example:”

Logan let go of Remus’s arms, picked up the truck’s controller and started clicking a couple buttons. Quickly, the arms stopped zapping and folded themselves into the shape of spider legs. The helicopter propeller shut off and went back inside the truck roof, and the truck started crawling like a spider towards the bed.

Virgil widened his eyes and yelped in horror. It was heading right towards him! But part of him wondered if the spider legs were even sturdy enough to climb the bed. But Logan smiled and watched in humble confidence as the arms grew claws at the ends and crawled all the way up Logan’s galaxy comforter.

“UH- LOGAN! I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS-” Virgil warned, growing terrified. But once the truck was stable on the bed, the legs returned inside the truck and started driving towards Virgil. The emo tensed up at first, but still allowed himself to look at the truck.

...The truck’s windshield lit up and showed Virgil a white smiley face.

Virgil’s fear slightly lessened at that. But...why was it smiling at him?

Virgil watched nervously as the truck’s windshield displayed a message:

[Hi!]

Virgil stared at the message before looking at Logan. Logan was smiling and had a little pull-out keyboard attached to the remote control. Logan typed some more to the message:

[Are you scared?]

Virgil read the message and bit his lip. He nodded his head at Logan. Logan nodded and typed another message for the truck.

[I don’t have to tickle you]

Virgil read it and softened his expression. The words erased and new words showed up:

[-If you don’t want it.]

Virgil looked at Logan and slowly started to smile. Logan smiled as well and typed one last question:

[Do you want to be tickled?]

Virgil looked at Logan with more and nodded.

Logan beamed with excitement at seeing Virgil consent so quickly. He typed one last thing:

[I’ll start off light! :) ]

Virgil giggled and watched with wonder as the Tickle Truck drove up and rested its front wheels on his feet. The truck’s propeller was removed from the truck again and started spinning and raising the truck up. The truck’s dark blue headlamps started lighting up, and the truck started processing all the data it was presented.

It didn’t take long for the truck to scan everything. The body image relit up with new ticklish spots highlighted for the robot to follow as a reference.

Suddenly, the truck’s arms started removing themselves out of the truck. But this time, only 4 arms removed themself to start! The arms moved closer and closer to his belly and his ribs. Virgil couldn’t help the giggles that poured out of his mouth from anticipation. Here it was! It was finally happening! Aaaaand-

Virgil jumped and giggled a little hysterically from the first two zaps. “Thihihihis ihihihis soho weheheihihiHIHIRD!” Virgil giggled. The closer the arms got to his belly, the more hysterical his laughter became.

The zaps didn’t even feel like the type of tickles you’d get from the usual tickle tools! Not even a massager was capable of replicating this kind of zapping feeling! It was like a spark was touching you, and leaving you stunned. But because it was zapping your ticklish spots, it tickled you even more than you’d ever expect from a zap! It was almost like a robot was making your tickle spots more ticklish through every zap that hit him! The more times a specific ticklish spot was zapped, the longer your giggle fits lasted!

“Hahahahahahahehehehehehe! LOHOhohohohogahahahahahan! Cohohohome ohohohohohon!” Virgil laughed and begged.

Logan widened his eyes and quickly stopped. He was so scared he may have overdid it and broken his original promise of a light start! But Virgil seemed to enjoy being put into a giggly mess. Logan smiled as he noticed the light blush on Virgil’s face. His thoughts about the blush quickly reminded him of something else he added to the car!

“Do you want me to show you something?” Logan asked.

Virgil and Remus both looked at Logan and nodded. “Okay.” they both said.

Logan clicked a button and watched more arms rise out from inside the truck. Logan clicked a button on the top of the controller with his index finger. Suddenly, the ends of the arms sprouted little feathers and makeup brush heads of different shapes!

“Ohoho NOHO!” Virgil yelled, covering his eyes and shaking his head in fear and embarrassment. He even installed TINY BRUSHES AND FEATHERS?!

Remus bursted out laughing upon seeing such small tickle tools. “How in the hell are you gonna tickle ANYONE with those?!” Remus asked.

Logan looked over with a smirk. “Do you want me to demonstrate?” He asked.

Remus guffawed. “Just try me, nerd!” Remus replied confidently.

Logan smiled contently and started controlling the joysticks. “Okay.”

The truck drove itself right off the bed, and landed perfectly on the hardwood floor with a break-resistant thud. Then, the truck drove up to Remus and pulled the tools back inside the robot’s thin arms. The truck’s transporting strategy changed from driving to spider crawling in mere seconds, terrifying the mustache man. And before Remus could even attempt to flee, the Tickle Truck had reached his feet and brought out its helicopter propellers. With the push of a few buttons, the truck flew itself up, got the tickle tools to sprout from the arms and started zapping and tickling his feet with the tools and stimulators.

Remus shrieked and shouted in surprise at just how much it tickled! “WHYHYHYHY?! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus laughed hysterically.

Logan clicked his tongue a few times. “You shouldn’t have questioned my tickling abilities~” Logan warned Remus in a teasy tone.

Remus tried dragging himself away from the devilish Tickle Truck. But the arms just reached out further to continue their tickle attack! Remus quickly just gave up, and started pounding his fists into the hardwood floor. The mix of soft brushes and stimulating zapping, as it turned out, was so much more ticklish than he ever imagined!

And Remus: Well...he was absolutely losing his mind!

“LOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT!” Remus begged helplessly.

Virgil was just smiling as he watched. “Funny...you’re capable of going really light and soft with your truck invention. And yet, you’re also able to completely destroy confident people like the creative twins.” Virgil elaborated.

“Indeed I am.” Logan told him, before showing him the controller. He pointed to the sliding switch. “This switch tells the Tickle Truck just how intense to make the tickles.” Logan explained. “With you, I kept the tickles a lot more low.” Logan pointed to the near-bottom of the sliding switch to show where he had it at the time. “And now:” Logan brought his finger up to where the switch knob was sitting now: near the top.

Virgil laughed. “It’s not even completely at the top!” Virgil reacted.

Logan giggled with him. “I know.”

While Remus was laughing up a storm, Logan decided to add one more thing to he mix:

“These claws aren’t just meant for climbing things…” Logan admitted.

Logan clicked the top left button and allowed the ends of a few of the arms, to switch from the brushes to the claws. Then, Logan used the claws to pull the toes back and used the brushes to tickle under and between Remus’s toes.

Remus SCREAMED super loudly and pounded the ground like a maniac! He let his head finally hit the floor and allowed his laughter to fall completely silent.

Logan widened his eyes and looked at Virgil with surprise. “Wow!”

“I think someone’s toes are speechlessly ticklish.” Virgil joked.

Logan’s face fell a little at that joke, but still had a smile on his face. “Not bad...for improve, anyway.”

Logan clicked the buttons for putting the arms and propeller away. With the propeller back inside, the truck quickly fell to the ground and bounced on its rubber wheels. Then, Logan turned it off. The truck powered down and sunk down slightly.

WIth the truck turned off, Logan picked up the Tickle Truck and put it onto a shelf for personal admiration and storage all in one. “There. Perfect for future surprise attacks.” Logan declared.

Virgil smiled and stood beside Logan. “It really is.” Virgil added.

Logan crossed his arms and stared at the truck and at the controller that came with it. “And of course, I could use it like a regular remote control car with extra little features.” Logan added.

Virgil giggled at that. “Mhm. You can.” Virgil replied.

Logan admired his work for a good while. He felt accomplished that it worked so well. He felt happy that nothing malfunctioned while it was in the testing phase. And lastly: he felt honored that Virgil and Remus wanted to ask about his robot and be the guinea pigs.

“aaAAAH!” Logan jumped, dropping the remote control.

Virgil bursted out laughing and patted his shoulder. “I’m just playing!”

Logan grumbled in slight annoyance as he picked up his controller. Evil emo...he poked him while he was focusing on his invention.

Virgil giggled and continued to poke him just to annoy him. By the time Virgil had successfully started up a revenge attack on him, Logan was doubling over and trying to keep his giggles from coming out…

Remus was now laying on his back, enjoying the view with a bag of conjured-up popcorn in his hands. In his view was an evil Virgil tickling and teasing Logan from behind, while Logan laughed and squirmed in the emo’s grip.

To make things even better, Remus put his popcorn down, got himself up and grabbed the remote control truck and remote. Much to Remus’s convenience: the buttons all had 1-word labels taped onto them to show what button did what action. So it didn’t take long for Remus to get the truck going again and for Logan’s laughter to get even louder.

Aren’t tickle fights fun?

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Bank Shot Job

leverage 1.05

I decided I’m also going to start highlighting meta material in these posts for reference reasons (like for fics, headcanons, meta, etc)

I’m colorcoading by what character the meta pertains to btw

Clerk: Hello, Judge Roy.

Judge Roy: [slaps her ass] Hey, sweetheart.

Frank: Can I help you, your honor?

Judge Roy: Yes, Fred. Her phone number?

Frank: It's Frank. And she's 19, sir.

Judge Roy: That's too bad. She got a younger sister

diSgUsTiNG

- - - - -

Hardison: No. No more. We gotta talk to Nate. No more rip deals. They take too damn long.

Parker (ripping paper): That's why they're called "Rip Deals". You have to convince them they're getting a deal before you can rip them off.

Hardison: Two weeks. Two weeks sleeping in crappy hotels. Two weeks eating in crappy diners. Two weeks having my soul sucked dry. It's 107 degrees. Who lives where it's 107 degrees?

Parker: Juan's not so bad. I kinda like this town

I wanna see that domestic shit of them sharing hotel rooms and eating the continental breakfasts and dingy diners and everything about them living in rundown hotels for two weeks

- - - - -

Hardison: You know, I had to retask two satellites just to get a lousy internet connection. Took more than an hour to torrent the last episode of Doctor Who.

Parker: Hey! Illegal downloading's wrong. (lights paper on fire in trash can)

that’s it. that’s their relationship.

- - - - -

Hardison: How we coming on the breakdown?

Eliot (loading truck elsewhere): Fake addresses are shut down. Post office boxes are closed. The phones are cleared. Five more minutes, we never existed

bruh those props ??? I wish I had a screenshot but wtf where they DOING for the con ???

- - - - -

Hardison: Want me to call the Delgado family, tell them the news?

Eliot: Nah. Soon as I clear county line I want to do it. I just wish we could do more than bankrupt that corrupt son of a bitch

eliot is so good you guys im-

- - - - -

Nate: Get out. Now.

Hardison: Is he talking to us?

Parker: An unmarked van parked across the street from a bank that's being robbed? Yeah. I think he's talking to us.

Hardison: Yeah, well, five more feet and he would have been in the clear. What the hell was he thinking?

Parker: Don't be an idiot, Hardison.

Hardison: What?

Parker: Sophie was still in there

parker knows nate loves sophie and would never leave her behind because she may not always get people, but even she can see how much nate cares for sophie

- - - - -

Derrick: Everyone empty your pockets. Wallets, purses, watches, everything you've got, throw it over here.

(everyone throwing stuff to center of floor)

nate threw his fucking toothpick

- - - - -

Deputy Arnold: No, right here, right here, and we need ...

(Eliot crosses police line)

Deputy Arnold: Whoa, whoa, I need you to take a step back, sir.

Eliot: Tell me what's going on in there.

Deputy Arnold: I'm afraid I can't do that, this is an active crime scene, and you need to ...

Eliot: (to cop) I'm not talking to you. (to Nate) How many are there?

Nate: Yeah, you're right. Clearly amateurs, these two. Yeah. The younger one, looks like he's never handled a gun before.

Eliot: Is judge blow-hard next to you?

Nate: Yeah, uh-huh. Yeah, definitely amateurs, That's what makes them so dangerous.

Eliot: Alright, 2 guys, both armed, neither one a criminal mastermind. You want me in there?

Deputy Arnold: Sir, we can't have you going inside the bank ...

Nate: Probably, uh, a good idea just to sit tight, don't you think? You know, and see where these guys' heads are

at, you know?

Eliot (backing away): Alright, your call boss.

Deputy Arnold: Thank you

poor deputy arnold + eliot being done with local law enforcement

- - - - -

Sophie: Okay. So what is the plan, Stan

“what’s the plan, stan” adorable.

- - - - -

(Eliot leans against a building across the street and watches Hardison and Parker pull up in a sedan)

Eliot: Nice ride.

Parker (taking notebook and removing badges): It's embarrassing. Everyone knows you don't rob a bank without an exit strategy. These two deserve to get caught. 42 seconds. (tosses notebook back to Eliot)

Hardison: What?

Parker: To rob this bank. One security guard who has never fired his gun before, 2 closed-circiut cameras outside, 1 inside, and a Glen-Reader safe built in the 50's whose default combination is the birth date of the manager's wife! Get in, get out, 42 seconds.

Hardison: Seriously

parker was so angry that she chucked the binder at eliot and he was like ??? we good ???

- - - - -

Hardison: Seriously? (to Bill) I'm Agent Leonard. This is Agent Elmore. We'll be taking over this crime scene,

Sheriff ...

Bill: Bill Hastings. Nice to meet you. You guys sure are quick, just called this in 20 minutes ago.

Hardison: Well, we were coming back from a little border skirmish. Patrol unit came under attack from a pack of Chupacabras.

Bill: Chupacabras? I thought those things were urban legend.

Hardison: You're adorable

I love it when hardison fucks with people it’s hilarious

- - - - -

Hardison: Whoa, what's going on?

Bill: Cut power to the bank. Standard operating procedure.

Hardison: Standard ... it's standard op ... it's standard? Where do you getting that bull-hockey from son?

Bill: Deputy Arnold, he took a seminar in crisis management last year.

Deputy Arnold: It was an online seminar. We got certificates.

Hardison: Certificates? Magic kits come with certificates. Does that make it cool for kids to saw their parents in half?

Bill: We're just going by the book.

Hardison: The ... the book? The book got a good man killed. I can't ... my blood pressure.

Parker: Ex-partner. Probably shouldn't mention the book again. Or propellers.

parker is doing so well with grifting considering and I’m so proud of her

- - - - -

Sophie: They are not cops, I promise you, they're friends of mine, you can trust them.

Derrick: Why should I trust you? I don't know who you are.

Sophie: I am a thief.

Derrick: Okay, I'm not sure what to do with that.

that’s it guys. that’s the show.

- - - - -

Nate: I didn't say it was going to be easy. But nothing's impossible, especially when you have the world's greatest thief on your payroll. Parker, have you ever robbed a bank that's being robbed?

Parker: There's a first time for everything.

her SMILE YOUR HONOR

- - - - -

Parker: The bank was built before 1980, before computers. Means it's got a larger than normal night deposit chute.

Hardison: 'Cause business had to drop off ledgers with their daily hauls. What, you thought my genius was only limited to ones and zeroes?

Parker: I'm thinking the chute's my way in. Only problem is, it's in the alley on this side of the building

the way she looks at hardison like damn boy you know my stuff

- - - - -

Hardison: I can take care of that, but, we actually have bigger problems.

Eliot: What's that?

Hardison: Well, Sheriff Coltrane over here called the FBI, the real FBI. Now the closes office is in San Diego, so they should be here, in about, um, give it 45 minutes.

Nate: We can't worry about that now.

Hardison: When do we worry about it?

Nate: In about 45 minutes

hardison, internally: lord give me strength

- - - - -

Hardison: Hold on ... Excuse me. (answers phone) Agent Leonard. We will do whatever you need us to do, just please, don't hurt anybody. Okay. (hangs up) Guys ... Boys, boys, come on, gather 'round. Now boys, that was THE call. The call we were waiting for. Now look, they have a list of demands. First off, they want 12 large pizzas. One cheese, one Hawaiian, extra pineapple. Two pepperoni and black olives, two meat lover's, t ... Seriously? Nobody's writing this down? Seriously? One triple-shot half-caf vanilla latte, tall,

(Parker goes down alley and opens deposit drop box)

Hardison: …three of the latest copies of the Hall and Oates CD. I know, right? Exciting stuff I didn't know they were coming out with a new one either. We're gonna need steaks. Steaks and a grill. They're trying to tailgate. Okay, they need your overalls, I don't know why. They need some kibbles n' bits, we need an Etch-A-Sketch, somebody in there likes to squiggle okay ... Are we good? Let's go people. Everybody. I need you guys moving. Everybody get out. Go. (hardison points at an officer) You stay. We need to talk about Hall & Oates.

I fucking loved this monologue,,, hardison is VERY GOOD at improvising

- - - - -

(Derrick opens night deposit box)

Parker: Hi.

Derrick (hands her the briefcase): There's a lot of money in there.

Parker: Yeah, I know.

Derrick: My wife's life depends on that money getting where it needs to go.

Parker: I understand. Sometimes bad guys are the only good guys you get

parker’s face softened and you can see that she understood. parker didn’t get people in the beginning of the show, and sure her values and ideas aren’t typical, but she was ALWAYS a good person. she cared and understood what was at risk and she consoled him.

also, this is yet another piece of evidence that parker was the main character all along!!! I’m not gonna go super into it because there are already posts out there about it, but she had three (3) episodes dedicated to her character in season one alone AND had her say what is basically the mission statement of the show here in this scene

- - - - -

Sophie: Things could be worse.

Nate: Worse than me getting shot and you blowing our cover?

Sophie: No, no, you're not gonna lay that crap on me. We wouldn't even be in this mess if you'd just walked out with the cash when you had the chance. I would've been fine.

Nate: I know.

Sophie: Yeah, I can take care of myself. I've been doing it a long time. Since way before I met you. I'm just saying.

Nate: Yeah, you're right.

Sophie: Okay

nate knows sophie is a strong independent woman and that is one of the only things I stan about him lol

- - - - -

Sophie: We lost communication.

Nate: Yeah, we did.

Sophie: Hardison, Parker, and Eliot ...

Nate: That's right, they are on their own. Yup.

they ended up doing great on their own, but also, can we acknowledge what a glow up it was building up to the rundown job ???

- - - - -

(Mom gets out of truck and tries to run)

Meth #2: Where the hell you think you're going, old lady? (pulls mom back) Where the hell you think you're g ...

Eliot (catches Meth #2’s arm): Hey, what smells like crank and screams like a girl? (Takes his gun and breaks his knee)

Meth #2: AAHH!

Eliot (kicks car door closed before Meth #3 can get out, empties the bullets from gun): That's the right answer. (throws gun into car at #3, hits #1 as he approaches) Come on. (fights #1, kicks door shut, beats #1 more, kicks door again) Stay in the car. (beats the hell out of #3 and #1, kneels down near mom and removes her gag)

Mom: Who are you?

Eliot: Well ma'am, we'd be the cavalry.

this entire fight scene always has me ROLLING it’s so funny

also I’m not sure if this should go on the List Of Non-Weapon Objects Eliot Uses As Weapons but eliot DID use the car door in the fight

- - - - -

Sophie: Just let the paramedics take him. The rest of us will stay.

Judge Roy: And give up my leverage

*sophie and nate look at each other*

both, internally: tHATS OUR WORD

- - - - -

Nate: Hey, listen. She's gonna be alright. Everything's gonna be alright

Derrick: Your people ... they're good?

Nate: Yeah. The best.

nate’s smile when he says that??? proud dad alert

- - - - -

Sophie (looking at replay of tape): You're still a geek.

Judge Roy: They're trying to ruin me.

Hardison: Geek power, baby. Stay strong!

in other words: age of the geek, baby

also- kudos to 2008 hardison editing video like that. I can’t do that shit with today’s tech lmao

- - - - -

Bill: Go home now. Bank robbers are in custody, hostages are safe. FBI's got the whole thing wrapped up.

Taggert: Do you have any idea what?

Mcsweeten: Just go with it.

Deputy Arnold: Mr. FBI guys, can you help me here?

Bill: My, my. Look at this. Our local drug boys, both with outstanding warrants. It's incredible.

Taggert: Damn, we're good!

mcsweeten and taggert stumbling onto the leverage crew’s cons and directly profiting off of them is iconic. they have no idea. too pure for this world

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey, thanks Parker.

Parker: Whatever.

Sophie: No. It was an excellent performance.

Parker: Yeah, I think I can act okay when I'm yelling at people and bossing them around.

Sophie: Well, it's a good start.

proud mom!sophie + grifting parker

Nate: Listen, we have to make sure we get the cash to the Delgado family. Ow!

Eliot (tending Nate’s wound): Oh! Settle down. You act like you've never been shot before.

Nate (glances at Sophie): So, uh, pizza boxes, huh?

Hardison: Yeah, I know, I know, You could have done better.

Nate: No, no, no. No I couldn't have.

eliot casually stitching up nate’s wound bc no hospitals but also can we talk about how much nate has to trust eliot to literally operate on him

+

nate giving praise to hardison ??? rare af I don’t know her

[halfwaythereroyal]

And You Are? (Poe Dameron x Reader) - Kilig

GIF credit: @xsolo-rey​

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader 

Rating: PG because of cursing. No other warnings I can think of unless your secondhand embarrassment is really bad.

Word count: 1,315 words

A/N: This is my first fic in a pretty long time. This can be read as a one-shot or as part of the series. I was inspired by all the amazing writers on here who have helped quarantine a lot easier to bear. I wanted this to be part of a series called the “Kilig Series” because I love/hate that feeling of being excited over anything remotely romantic 😍. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! 

👑 All my writing will be posted to my side writing blog from now on! 👑

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Part 2 + Part 3 + Part 4 + Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“5 minutes. Ok I can make it. I can totally make it. It’s fine. My presentation is not until the end anyway” she muttered to herself as she quickly shuffled her notes and an array of loose papers into her arms and raced out of her barracks. It had been a long night. One filled with no sleep and more work than what she deemed necessary. If she was being honest with herself, most of her night was spent trying to find any type of motivation to finish putting together the intel for General Organa. This consisted of drinking numerous cups of caf, pacing, and doodling on scratched out notes until she realized she had less than two hours to work in order to finish on time.

“85 now? Maybe 90 beats…” she counted to herself. Her heart felt like it was pounding in her ears, to the point where she could clearly count the beats. Counting her heart rate was a habit she had picked up to deal with stressful situations, although in this case, the stress was very much self-induced. She had all night to finish her presentation for General Organa after all. Her breaths became faster as her pace quickened toward command center, damning the fact her barracks were situated at the furthest possible place. She readjusted her notes to rest in the crook of her left arm. She brought up her right forearm to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. Her notes were slowly starting to slip, and she hissed at the soreness of her arm under the weight of her notes. She could not be late this time.

She turned a sharp corner and loudly groaned. Of course practically everyone else on this base was also in the very hallway between her and command center. She began to quickly make her through the hallway, right forearm swinging back and forth, propelling her through the crowd of Resistance members clogging up her path. Yes, this was the established peak time for everyone to be awake and working, but how was she supposed to know they would all conspire against her and get in her way when she was trying to get to her meeting on time?

“100 beats? Probably 120 at this point,” she muttered to herself. The pounding heartbeat in her ears was coupled with the beads of sweat trickling down the side of her face. She quickly wiped the sweat away with her right arm again. She silently cursed her procrastinating nature. She had plenty of time to get this presentation together, but the pressure of a looming deadline motivated some of her best work. She felt the the top pages of her notes slip from the pile resting in her left arm, and she quickly reacted by attempting to grab the pages with her free hand before they got to the ground. Her attempts were futile, and her pages spilled onto the ground.

“No no no no! Come on!” She groaned and bent down to shuffle the pages into her arms, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by several Resistance members. In her haste to pick up her notes, she did not see the person in front of her who began to bend down to pick up the remaining pages. She hastily snatched the last pages from the ground and snapped her body up, hitting the back of her head against something. Or someone.

“Ow!”

“Oh shit! I am so sorry! I didn’t even see…” she paused, at a loss for words, as she got a good look at the person she basically assaulted in her haste. Shit. Just her luck. Poe fucking Dameron. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. The blood rushed to her ears and cheeks, heating up her face and muffling all other sounds around her other than the beat of her heart.

The first thing that stood out to her was the black curls that sat atop his head. How did he manage to make his hair look so perfect in the humid weather of Ajan Kloss? She struggled to get any type of volume into her hair in this heat, and yet his hair sat perfectly curled and annoyingly perfect. Next was his jawline. A jawline so sharp that she would probably cut herself slapping him. His jawline was emphasized by the hint of a beard casting a faint blue shadow. By Maker. It should not be allowed to look this handsome. It took her a moment to realize she was staring while Poe was pinching his nose bridge, eyes blinking repeatedly toward the ceiling, and tilting his head up in an effort to stop the flow of blood from his nose.

“No no you’re good. I was just trying to help you out.” Her trance was broken by his words as she looked at the injured man.

“I am so so sorry! I didn’t even see you!” She readjusted her notes securely in to her arm and clutched them to her side. She took out a loose tissue she had taken from the mess hall out of her pocket. “Here, let me look. You’re not supposed to put your head back.” She handed him the tissue which he quickly used to pinch his nose and soak up the blood. “You’re supposed to tilt your head downwards.” She gently guided his head to tilt downward by softly pulling on his hand and nudging his head forward from behind. “Does it really hurt? I am so sorry. I was running late for my meeting with General Organa.”

“I’m fine!” He said in a falsely comforting tone. He leaned against the wall for support. “It wasn’t your fault. I…uh…didn’t know it would be this dangerous when trying to say hi to someone so beautiful.”

She blinked twice, surprised at his flirting. Poe Dameron. Flirting with her after she almost broke his nose? She felt heat creep up her neck and make its way to her ears. “Oh. Thank you for that, Poe. Sorry…Captain! I mean Commander! I don’t know I…”

“It’s just Poe. No need for all that. You’re not part of my squadrons. I would have noticed by now,” he grinned, “And you are?” Poe asked, bringing his brown eyes up to meet hers. She blinked a few times, subconsciously counting out the rapid beating of her heart again, before a Resistance member squeezed through the space in between them to get through, effectively breaking the trance Poe held on her.

“I hate to leave you like this, but I’m really late to my meeting by now,” she said, walking backwards toward the doors of command center, ”Again, I am so so sorry about your nose, but I have to go.” She turned around and hastily made her want through the crowd. He pushed himself off the wall and started dodging people around him to follow her.

“Wait! What’s your name?!”

She turned around and easily met his eyes despite the crowded hallway. How were his eyes so magnetic even from far away? “Y/N!” she shouted out. She once again turned around and made her way through the doors of the command center. He watched her retreating figure with a small smile, rooted in his spot for a moment, simply staring at the closed doors.

“Dameron! You ok? What happened?” Pava asked. Poe hadn’t even noticed the fellow pilot make her way up to him. He took the tissue away from his nose which had stopped bleeding. He sniffled and placed the tissue in his pocket. He took one last look at the doors and then looked at Pava.

“Yeah. Yeah I am.” Poe grinned. “You ready for drills today?” Poe nodded towards the hangars and walked in pace with Pava, vowing to see Y/N again.

Part 2 + Part 3 + Part 4 + Masterlist

[datawyrms]

Not That Similar

Dannymay day 3: Reflection

“You know, this is the part where Jazz’d be all ‘maybe you should reflect on how you got here’, but with your whole creepy vampire thing you probably don’t even have one-” the younger half ghost broke off their taunt with a yelp, narrowly dodging at hot pink ectoblast. “Maybe anger management classes? Yoga? Knitting? Work with me here!” he kicked off the wall before another blast could connect, turning it into an impromptu propelled punch when Plasmius raised a shield instead of dodging, both hybrids grunting from the collision.

Vlad recovered first, quickly flying backwards to regain his preferred distance. “Must you insist on such juvenile taunts Daniel? Though I suppose being raised by that oaf of a man stunted any attempts of maturing.” 

Danny’s eyes flared at the jab at his father, “Says the fruit loop stalker! Get over it and leave my family ALONE!” He launched off three ectoblasts in quick succession, speedy but too predictable to hit the elder hybrid, who blocked them all with an exaggerated yawn. 

“You could have been so much more than this if you’d just used your head, Daniel.”

“Oh I’m already way more than you. See, I actually have people who love me. Like my mom. Who totally hates you.”

Any further additions were cut off with Plasmius’ sudden movement, throwing a blast high and grabbing Phantom by the throat when he flew low to dodge it. White gloved hands scrabbled against his black one, green eyes furious. The impulsive panic to free himself stopped him from doing something effective, like shooting Vlad point blank.

“Do not test your luck, boy. Besides, if you believe that, you would have told them your little secret by now. You had been bluffing that day after all.” he spun and flung his captive downwards, grinning at the satisfying sound of the boy’s body cracking asphalt. “Maybe you can be the one reflecting once you peel yourself off the ground, hmm?”

Danny found his feet with a groan, rolling his shoulders as he got back into the air. “Hey, I’m not the one so pathetic they couldn’t wait five seconds to kill my dad. The whole ‘oooh join me’ crud would have worked waaaaay better before attempted murder.”

The admission set Vlad off balance, taking a blast to the chest. It was painful enough to push him backwards a little, but he tried not to show any other signs it had been effective. The second blast from the ground, not originating from the other half breed did provoke a yelp from sheer surprise.

“Tough luck Plasmius! We already caught your minions!” Tucker yelled from the ground, shaking a thermos at the aerial combatants. “We got your back Danny!”

“Actually, I think the road got that but thanks Tuck!” Phantom grinned, any lost confidence returning in seconds. “So much for your ‘rob FentonWorks’ plan, huh?” he paused at the whine of something powering up. “Oooh, Sam brought the bazooka! You've lost, Plasmius. Again.”

The growl Vlad let out was almost feral, but the younger ghost was right. Short of killing Danny’s little entourage, there was no point in continuing this. It did seem like they might have missed his actual motive for distracting Danny from the FentonWorks lab, but he’d need to be in his own lab to check that.

“Being pulled into the ghost zone by a portal in your head might count as payback to all your experiments” Sam warned, tracking Vlad with the heavy silver weapon.

“Oh very well. Perhaps someday you’ll learn to win on your own merits.”

“That’s the thing Vladdie. I don’t have to.”

Danny’s pained yelp as the parting shot connected was some satisfaction as Plasmius vanished. He’d see how the boy changed his tune soon enough.

“I hate that fruit loop.” Danny grumbled, changing back to human before reuniting with his friends. 

“Word. Any hints on what he wanted the catcher for?”

“Nope. Just the usual junk. Dude needs a hobby like yesterday.”

“Knowing him, his hobby is trying to beat you up.” Sam added, grinning when the half ghost moaned.

“That totally is his hobby, isn’t it. Urgh.”

Tucker gave his friend a playful pat on the back. “He should change his name to the Fenton Ghost, give the Box Ghost a run for most accurate name.”

“I am totally using that next time.”

“If you do, Tuck’s stitching you up for giving you the idea.”

“It’d be worth it. Can you imagine the look on his face?” Danny dismissed Sam’s frown with a laugh, glancing at his home. “Guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Try not to get double grounded this time. My Doomed skills are rusting away without you.”

“Tell that to the ghosts!” his blue eyes looked pleadingly to the sky before he walked up the steps, waving as his friends continued on to their homes.

It took Danny a week to figure out that maybe they’d missed what Plasmius’ intentions had actually been. As that was when he ended up screaming at his own reflection, only managing to fend off the worried Fenton parents with a quick excuse of ‘some big cockroach ghost’ scared him.

The second look didn’t fare much better. He was totally human. Black hair, pale skin, shirt and no hazmat. One problem. Red eyes. Rapidly blinking didn’t set them back to blue either, but he would have taken green at this point. “Jazz, please tell me I’m seeing things.”

His sister had been waiting for the go ahead to ‘meddle’, pushing the bathroom door open at his question, freezing for a moment when she got a good look at him. “Afraid not little brother. Did you get hit with anything weird?”

“Not lately?” he scowled at his reflection, desperately willing the red to go away.

“Well they’re distracted, so you should probably check both looks.” Jazz prompted, noticing how Danny flinched at the suggestion. “It’d be better to make sure nothing else is acting up before you actually need your powers?”

“I hate it when you’re right.” his scowl turned to her, rubbing at his shoulder instead of actually doing anything. “Maybe I can use sunglasses?”

“Danny.” Jazz’s tone of sisterly disapproval was well practiced at this point.

“Okay okay! Sheesh!” Still he hesitated before summoning the rings that switched him between ghost and human, tense as he did so. The lack of reaction from Jazz was probably a good sign? He opened his eye a crack, not wanting to see the reflection. Green eyes looked back. “Well okay then. That’s weird.”

“Your default is weird. Maybe something in the lab is messing with your shapeshifting?” Jazz said, hand on her chin as she pondered.

“Uh, I don’t have shapeshifting powers?”

“Danny you literally do it all the time. You just only do two forms. And the ghost tail thing.” Jazz rolled her eyes.

“I do? Huh,” he changed forms again, wincing as the red eyes returned. “This sucks! Mom and Dad are gonna think I’m possessed!”

“We’ll figure something out, Sam and Tucker probably have backup sunglasses you can borrow if anything happens to these ones. Say you had an eye appointment.”

“Lame excuses are my specialty.” He gave a weak grin, slipping the offered sunglasses on. “All I need is blue skin and then I’m Plasmius’ creepy miniature reflection-” he froze. That was a joke but actually…

“It does seem like a Vlad thing to do, messing with how you look.”

“Creep just wants to harp on the ways we’re the same like that’s gonna make me not hate him.” Danny growled, cracking his knuckles.  “You wanna take the Peeler and see how it works on lonely fruitloops?”

“After school Danny. You can’t be late again.”

“I bet Sam and Tuck would skip with me-”

“Danny, it’s just a visual problem. You can wait to fix it.”

The half ghost sighed, but dropped his hands in defeat. “Well if I get caught with red eyes I am totally blaming you.”

“Deal.”

(Also to all of those leaving lovely comments/screaming in the tags I love you all and would respond to them but Tumblr is not exactly great for that. I wasn’t planning on putting these on A03 till I was done >>)

[kyber-kisses]

Applaud the Two Idiots

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: the reader and dean being high af, cursing

Summary: When Dean and the reader are captured on a witch hunt and put under a spell, it’s up to Sam and Cas to try and fix it.

A/n: I totally based this whole fic off of that scene in Stranger Things 3 where Steve and Robin are higher than kites, so please enjoy this masterpiece. Also this gif added ten years to my life so thank you to whoever made it.

Slipping quietly into the hunting cabin, you followed the broad shouldered silhouette of one Dean Winchester, the two of you brandishing pistols filled with witch killing bullets.

You and the brothers had been working this witch case for two weeks and every time you thought you had finally caught up to her, she was two more steps ahead. And truthfully It was beginning to drive the three of you up the walls.

So when you and Dean caught wind of something for the first time in days you both dropped everything, failing to update Sam who had been out on a dinner run. You and the older Winchester had enough faith in yourselves to believe you could finish it alone.

At the time you didn’t realize how wrong you would be.

The only source of light in the cabin seeped underneath the door to the basement, making you and Dean share a quick look of annoyance.

It was always the fucking basement. Well that- or the attic.

Dean slowly raised a finger to his lips, signaling for you to keep quiet. His free hand going to slowly turn the doorknob. Light spilled out further into the darkened room, lighting up your faces as Dean slowly began his decent down the stairs. You following close behind him as the two of you raised your weapons, eyes searching for the witch.

Too busy scanning what was in front of you, you failed to notice the figure behind you. But luckily Deans sixth sense kicked in and he whipped around to warn you.

You knew it was too little too late though as you felt the harsh force of a blunt object slam into your head, immediately rendering you unconscious. The last thing you saw being the look on Deans face as you crumpled on the stairs.

*. *. *. *.

As you slowly stirred back into reality , you let out a light groan, the throbbing in your head making you squeeze your eyes shut.

It felt like you had been hit by a truck.

You attempted to roll your head, trying to loosen your muscles but quickly stopped short by the constricting feeling around your body.

“What the hell?” You breathed, looking down at the ropes that were wound snugly around your torso and ankles, successfully binding you to the chair you sat in. Your arms tightly bonded to your sides.

“Y/n? Thank god, I didn’t know if you were alive or not.” A sudden voice exclaimed, making you whip your head around again. You felt the slight shift of someone behind you and realized that Dean was back to back with you, your ropes constricting him as well.

“Dean? Of course I’m alive you idiot. What the hell happened?”

“Well, that dumb witch got the jump on us. She knocked you out and then came after me.” Dean struggled, attempting to pull on the ropes.

“Are you telling me you got knocked out by one tiny witch?” You mused, trying to turn to look at him but failing.

“Well I’m sorry if my first priority was making sure you were okay. And plus- you got knocked out too- so your one to talk.” He fired back, struggling on the rooms even more.

“Dean! Would you please stop? Every time you move the rope just digs into my skin more!” You yelled, making him cease his actions.

“Sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, you could see that the witch was no where in sight, and even better the table across the room from the two of you was covered in random items-including a knife that looked sharp enough to cut through your binds.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hmm-“ he hummed back, rolling his head back to try and look at you. You nodded your head towards the table, a grin on your face.

“You see that table over there? On the left?” You questioned, feeling Dean shift his head again. “ You other left moron.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. A second later he nodded in response.

“You see that knife? I think if we move together at the same time, we can make it over there.-“you started, “and I could kick the table and get it into your lap.”

—“ and I could cut the binds.” He finished, catching on to your idea with a light breath. “Wait- she just left a knife sitting around here?” He questioned.

“What an idiot.” The two of you breathed out in unison, readying yourselves to move.

“Okay on the count of three we’re gonna hop. One...two...three!” With one swift move, you and the green eyed hunter shifted a good foot closer to the table. The two of you letting out a relieved laugh at the success. This might actually work.

“Okay! Let’s go again!” Dean exhaled, shifting in his restraints again. You counted again- and just like before the two of you moved a little closer.

“Holy shit- this is gonna work!” You laughed, finding it hard to though, due to the tightness of the rope. Together you and Dean counted down once more, propelling yourselves sideways again.

And then everything went wrong.

You had put to much force into the last hop, which resulted in you and Dean toppling sideways, hitting the cement floor with a light yell.

For the second time that night your head caught the worst of it. You could hear Dean letting out a groan as well as you breathed in a big gulp of air. So your plan backfired— and now you were gonna die at the hands of a witch.

It was in that moment you realized how completely insane your life was. It was bat shit crazy.

And maybe it was the two hours of sleep you were running on or the lack of food in your system, but the giggles bubbling out of your throat cake out of nowhere, almost sounding like sobs.

“Shh-Y/n it’s okay. It’s okay. Please don’t cry.” Dean tried to comfort you, also attempting to pick his head up off the ground with little success. His gesture only making you laugh harder. “Wait- are you- are you laughing?” He questioned, eyebrows knitting. Together in confusion.

You tried to take a breath, which made you giggle even more. “ I’m gonna die in an old musty basement at the hands of a witch. “ you snorted, “With Dean Winchester. It’s just too trippy man.” You laughed.

You didn’t know it but Deans face was a mixture of confusion and amusement. It was actually pretty funny, he wasn’t gonna lie.

The sound of footsteps thundering down the steps of the basement rendered you both silent. The Witch stepping into view with a scowl on her dirt covered face.

“You two were trying to escape? I see you failed miserably.” She chuckled, coming forth to pull your bodies back up. “Now let’s see if you can tell me where the other Winchester is hiding?” She smirked, stepping over to the table and picking up a massive syringe.

Your eyes widened. No,no,no you did not do needles. Especially massive ones like that. Panic settled in, making you rapidly push and pull against your restraints in a failed attempt to get away. Deans mind quickly catching up and reminding him of your fear of needles.

Dean glared at the witch as she stalked forward with the syringe. “ Don’t you even dare touch her you bitch!” He growled, pushing against the ropes.

“Ooh, not very friendly I see.” The witch tilted her head, a wild look in her eyes. “If you had been nicer I might just have let her go second—“ she didn’t even finish before she stepped up next to you and jammed the needle into your neck.

You let out a shriek as you felt the syringe inject whatever concoction she had whipped up directly into your bloodstream. The last thing you heard before passing out again was the sound of Deans muffled yells as the witch did the same to him.

*. *. *. *.

“Dean, you okay?” Sighing, you let your head fall back against his own. God, you were tired, even with the amount of sleep you had gotten from being knocked out not once, but twice.

“To be honest I don’t really feel anything.” He yawned,closing his eyes. “Do you?”

Hearing his yawn, had you yawning too. Stupid contagious yawning. “I feel fine- which is never a good sign when it comes to these sorts of things.” You admitted.

“Yeah-“ Dean paused, a light laugh bubbling o. Of his chest. “ I kinda feel good actually.” You had no idea why, but you chuckled along with him. A tingling feeling flowing through your whole body. In a way, it kind of felt like when your feet are asleep, except this was everywhere.

“Idiot. She messed up the spell.” You giggled, you heard Dean snort behind you as he tried to inhale more air.

“Yeah she did. She totally messed it up.”

You had no clue as to why you were laughing, neither did Dean, but one thing was for sure: you had never felt so care free, and to be honest, it was nice.

“The idiot messed it up!” You cackled again, head falling back once more. The bang of a door had the two of you falling silent. Eyes watching the witch walk back into the room, a smug grin on her face.

“There is definitely something wrong with us.” You whispered, trying to push the next wave of laughter down.

The witch stalked towards you, grabbing your face .” Just tell me where the other Winchester is.” She asked, a wild smile plastered on her face.

“Who?” You giggled, your mind too fuzzy to understand anything. You could hear Deans laughter behind you, which only made you laugh harder.

The back of a hand came down hard across your cheek, making you stop short. Hearing the sound of the crack made Dean whip his head around. “Hey! I know Sam! He’s my brother.” He exclaimed, trying to pull the witch away from you.

It worked because she gave you one more look before walking around to face the jade eyed hunter. “I know, your Dean Winchester.” She stated. “ care to tell me where little Sammy is?”

Dean let out another set of light, bubbly laughter. “Yeah, he’s uh- back at the motel.” The words came flying out of his mouth.

Your mind was trying hard to fight against whatever was going on with you as you turned violently. “Dean- Dean shut up.” He couldn’t give away where Sam was. That would be bad in more ways than one.

Luckily the universe was on your side because the sound of splintering wood echoed down the basement stairs as someone kicked down the door. All three heads spun as Sam rushed into view. Without hesitation he was aiming the barrel of his gun and your capturer and firing.

The witches body hitting the ground before you could even exhale.

And then the giggles came back.

Sam rushed down the remaining stairs, kneeling down to help untie the both of you. Dean chuckled again, looking down at Sam “hey Sammy! I was just talking about you!”

Shooting his brother a confused look, Sam set to work untying the constricting rope. “Hey, Cas!” Sam's voice echoed, “I found them!”

There was a faint response before a familiar angel came down the stairs. “Heyyyy Cassie!” You drawled, head falling back as Sam pulled the last of the ropes away. “Dean, the pretty angel is here!” You giggled.

Sam and Cas turned to look at each other, birth musky confused and concerned. “Are they alright?”

“What are you talking about? We are fantastic!” Dean snorted, pushing himself out of the chair and turning to look at you. His eyes widened, slightly taken back, “WOW! You are really pretty!”

Normally you would have blushed at something like that, especially when it was coming from the mouth of Dean Winchester, but you were too out of it to even react properly. So you winked back at him instead. “Look who’s talkin.”

Sam watched with an even more confused expression as a blush crept across his brothers face. “Okay! Cas can you get y/n to the car? I have Dean.” Cas nodded, walking over to you. And before you could say anything, he was picking you up and carrying you up the stairs towards the impala.

A few minutes later, you and Dean were jammed in the back seat, watching as Sam and Cas slid into the front seats. “You have any idea what is wrong with them?” Sam questioned, hoping to get an answer from the Angel.

“All I know is that it was some sort of truth spell.” Cas whispered, both pairs of eyes panning back to you and Dean. Deans eyes quickly zoned in on a bag of chips sitting untouched in the front seat,making him lean forward to snatch them up.

“Yes! I’m starving!” He grinned, ripping open the bag. Your eyes widened as you watched him shove chip after chip into his mouth.

“Give that here! I want some!” Pulling the bag from his hand and taking some for yourself, ignoring the looks of the other people in the car.

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix this.” Sam sighed, not taking his eyes off you, Cas doing the same.

“I think we have to wait for it to wear off.”

*. *. *. *.

Over the next few hours Sam and Cas watched as you and Dean were overcome with fit after fit of laughter, even falling to the floor of the motel at one point, tears streaming down your face.

You two were completely and utterly out of it.

It was around hour 4 that it started to wear off, you and Dean flopped over the edge of one of the beds, heads hanging over the edge as you took in a deep breath.

“So that was wild. . .” You paused, trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened. It had easily been some of the craziest hours of your existence.

“Yeahhhh. . .” The words leaving Deans mouth slowly, presumably thinking the same as you.

Your eyebrows drew together as you thought back to earlier. “Did you really call me pretty?” You smirked, turning to look over at Dean. You could see the gears in his head turning as he went back to the memory.

“Yeah. I totally did.” The realization noticeable in his voice. He was blushing again- and it was adorable.

“Awww Dean. Do you have a crush on me?” You teased, lightly giggling. Dean gave you a side eye, face marked with slight embarrassment.

“Maybe.”

“So it took a witch making us trip balls to have you tell me that?” You didn’t let him respond though before you were leaning over and placing a kiss on his freckled cheek. “If so, I’m okay with that.”

[zukofenty]

day 25: mona lisa

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara make a pact to (fake) rush Asian Greek life because they were giving out free tacos.

“Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”

“Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare.

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, FratBrother!Zuko, SororityGirl!Katara, scamming, dildo stealing 

➜ Words: 6.6k

➜ Warnings: they stay in an airbnb instead of a hotel bc who has the schmoney for a hotel room😩

AO3, @zutaramonth hi!!!

Zuko’s grabbing at Katara’s arm while she’s carefully sipping water (only water, she swears) out of a red solo cup. She’s in her “whore fit” (her words) with larger than life fake eyelashes that could propel her into the sky a la Icarus if she blinked a little too quickly. She was in the middle of readjusting her crop top for the umpteenth time that night, because of course she forgets her strapless bra chicken cutlet contraption at home, so of course she does the most reasonable thing and takes a regular bra and just tucks the straps in. Because as much as she is a proponent of #freethenipple, her nipples could probably slice open a radiator with how fucking cold Ba Sing Se was. 

 “Please take this shot for me,” Zuko reasons with her, trying to make it seem as though he was handing off a shot to a clueless lightweight sorority rushee he was hoping to nail later in the night. For reputation’s sake, Zuko could not afford to fuck up tonight. He was in too deep. “Please, my Pepsin hasn’t kicked in yet. Asian glow is not the look we’re going for tonight.”

 “I hate you.” Katara munches on her (free) taco, and effortlessly throws back the shot: no chase. Zuko looks back and sees active members of Pi Alpha Psi giving him a thumbs up, hooting, hollering, being dumb. One salaciously thrusts his hips to the beat of “Big Bank,” pathetically hoping he could emulate YG in support of Zuko supposedly getting some Deltas pussy. 

 Asian Greek life was fucking stupid. 

 Tonight was the night of the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. Because Greek life was entirely stupid , of course they had to hold the fucking party on a Tuesday night, when Zuko had an econ pratice set to get done by midnight, and Katara needed to get to Ochem at 8am the next morning. It was their fault, really. A punishment from God herself (Rihanna) for trying to scam the Greek system. 

��It all started because Zuko and Katara had no fucking friends. 

 Besides each other, but that was also up for debate most days. Especially the days when Zuko would remind Katara whenever her foundation didn’t blend down her neck. He always thought he was being helpful. Katara’s long given up the urge to slit his throat. 

 After high school, when you still believed you were going to do something with your life and be important and make a difference and didn’t know about income tax, they had kept the dream of Ba Sing Se University alive while they attended community college. Uncle Iroh and Hakoda weren’t exactly rolling in tuition money, and financial aid was a stingy bitch. While Zuko had considered reaching out to his estranged father, the owner of a multi billion dollar pyramid scheme, he suddenly remembers the time his dad tried to burn his face off after a particularly heated episode of Maury , and then books another therapy appointment. 

 It was the top university in the nation, promising a gateway to accounting jobs and selling your soul to work for immoral tech companies to pay off your student loans in a timely manner. They had prayed for the day they could call the school home. The day they could leave their small town and finally make it in life. Katara and Zuko were inseparable growing up, even if at the surface they bumped heads. They were at each other’s throats whenever the going got tough, slinging petty insults at each other. 

 “I told you this was a bad idea. They don’t have fucking non-dairy options. Wait until my anus starts beatboxing in the bathroom in 20 minutes. Then you will see,” Zuko grumbled. Katara was always doing this, dragging their group of friends to “fun” places whenever Yelp sends her a notification a new restaurant opened up in their shithole of a town. It’s always some boba shop that was secretly a front for a Scientology cult’s money laundering scheme. 

 But Katara’s the only one who is able to scare Zuko (dairy induced) shitless. She’s always able to send him a glare that screams don’t you dare fuck with me, I know you masturbate to Hatsune Miku moan compilations. And he instantly starts sweating .

 At the same time, she was the only one to truly get him. Even if their friends were perfectly content to stay in their town, doing the same things, being the same people, Katara and Zuko always knew there was so much more out there. So much more to the world than what they had grown up in. So they kept the dream alive. Even if their friends had rightfully doubted them. No one made it out of their town. You find a partner from the same people you grew up with, have kids you grow to hate, hide your husband’s infidelity, and either choose from two options. Grow old with him and resent him and then have a kid to try to save the marriage. Or, go Gone Girl on his ass. 

 “Women really need to go back to poisoning their men. Like the good old days,” Katara’s eyes were narrowed into slits as she focused on taking clandestine photos of Mrs. Kim’s cheating, rat-faced husband. For a few months, she was under the tutelage of the town’s private investigator, June. It paid well, and she felt she was contributing to the feminist movement at the same time. 

 “Uh-huh, right,” Zuko eyed her warily. Dubbed lovingly “Katara’s Uber Driver,” he also got paid by June to drive the Nyla Mobile around during their late night ops. 

 He couldn’t wait to leave this shit fuck of a town. 

 While their friends and family were tearfully embracing them on their final days at home, a patented group hug forced upon them, they shared a secret smile. Their dream was coming true. They were going to a school in the city with minimized debt. Plus, though neither of them would ever admit it, they also had each other to rely on.

 //

 “What the fuck do you need? I swear to Rihanna, you only text me when I’m trying to masturbate. Please, make other friends,” Katara nearly screams into the phone. Her roommate, Suki, groans at the volume coming from Katara’s side of the room, but doesn’t get up. Her stomach is still sensitive from the Blue Razz Four Loko she downed at some frat house Katara had to drag her back from. 

 Zuko had the decency to sound sheepish. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

 “I hope you understand, I am too tense right now to pretend I like you. Go. Make. Friends.” 

 Because Zuko is a fucking child , he starts groaning and Katara could hear him petulantly slamming his Amazon memory foam mattress with his fist. He’ll get angry that the mattress is preventing any real satisfaction from hitting it, and then hit it a few (approximately 3) more times. She hears the pounds, and smirks. She doesn’t know whether or not to feel disturbed that she knows him so well. 

 “I miss you,” he whines.  

 “I don’t.” 

 Zuko gasps dramatically. “How could you say that? Sandbox love never dies!” He wants to yell into the darkness of his room when she hangs up on him. It was valid, of course. But that doesn’t mean his feelings can’t hurt. He’s always sensitive during the Mercury Retrograde. 

 Being a transfer student is hard, as much as he hates to admit it. There’s only two years to pad your resume and make lifelong friends and learn how much cocaine is too much cocaine for your body. College was hard. While Katara’s roommate was able to introduce her to people and Katara made a group of friends almost instantly, Zuko wasn’t nearly as pleasant to be around. It wasn’t his fault he was nervous . When he’s nervous he looks more mean than usual, and his roommate, Jet, was wary around him since the day he moved in. He couldn’t even be mad when he spotted Jet hiding his box cutter’s accessibility. 

 “Katara!” Zuko rolls his eyes at her lack of response. “Katara!” He repeats. “I know you’re just listening to “Like a G6” on a 10 hour loop. Don’t pretend to look so concentrated.” 

 She glares at him. “Let me have this one thing to myself.” She still begrudgingly takes out her airpods.

 “No.” 

 Katara wants to throttle his long ass neck. “Zuko, be honest with me.” 

 “Ok, yes! When you put your hair in a ponytail you look like a cage free egg.” Zuko stares at her in confusion when she starts playing with her hair. “What are you doing?” 

 “I’m trying to hand over my wig. You fucking scalped me, and I had nothing to say back. Just take it. You deserve it.” He smacks her hands from messing with her hair. Other patrons in the cafe near campus glanced over in amusement, as Katara pokes him in the neck and he yelps. 

 While he rubs at his neck to lessen the sting from Katara’s acrylics, she worries at her lip. “Be honest. Do you think Suki hates me?” 

 “Yes.” 

 Katara slams a hand on the table, causing his croissant to quake in fear. “You’re supposed to be comforting and trying to console me! Do it over, say no.” 

 “No.” 

 “Zuko, do you know how close I am to biting your nipple right off?” 

 He rolls his eyes. Katara specialized in empty threats (most of the time). “Don’t get mad at me just because Suki refuses to talk to you.” He relishes in her frustration. “Again, whose fault is it that Suki has to go to court for reckless driving?”

 “She was the one at the wheel!” Katara throws her hands to the air, before petulantly slapping them into her thighs, for emphasis of her point.

 Zuko pinches his nose bridge. “Well, you were the one who convinced her that she shit herself!” 

 Katara takes a neat, clean sip from her iced coffee before calmly responding. “She was the one doing 88 in a 65 trying to get to the bathroom. How was I supposed to know she did anal the day before and it was just cum!” 

 Zuko smacks his forehead in frustration after seeing identical blushes on the sea of patrons, now very much intune with the turn of the conversation. “You really don’t know how to act in public, do you? Like you think all the shit coming out of your mouth is important enough for it to just be said. You couldn’t have let that be a passing thought? Or learn how to fucking whisper?” 

 Katara sighs, closing her eyes and folding her hands over each other, because she’s dramatic. “All I had today for lunch was lip gloss. Let me be.” 

 “Again, if you, I don’t know, learned how to apologize to someone and admit you’re wrong then maybe Suki wouldn’t have hidden all your stress snacks. And, I don’t know. Maybe if you knew how to say ‘sorry’ she wouldn’t hate your fucking guts.” Katara simply turns her head into the air at Zuko’s words, refusing to acknowledge them. He’s itching to take a hit of his Phix with how on edge he was, and then remembers Katara had sold it on the school Facebook sell and exchange page as revenge. Apparently, Katara snaps if you send her one too many Tom Holland and Nicki Minaj fanfiction stories. Not that he’s speaking from personal experience. “You know what, you’re almost as stubborn as Wendy Williams when she refuses to pronounce Dua Lipa’s name correctly.” 

 She petulantly swivels her gaze to Zuko, nose still pointed to the sky. “Dula Peep is iconic for that reason.” She breathes out, letting her body go lax. “Please, shut the fuck up. I’m sad. Why would she leave me alone in the middle of the Mercury Retrograde like this? I didn’t think she hated me that much.” She drops her defensive stance, and rolls her shoulders, eyes focused only on the table. “I thought, what we had. It was real friendship you know? I made a joint for her using the orientation leader recruitment flyers because we were out of rolling papers. That’s true love. That’s sisterhood.” 

 //

 “Please, I can’t poop right now! I can’t poop when I’m scared. I’m poop shy!” 

 Zuko audibly groaned. “Then why the fuck would you take a shit at my apartment? Yours is literally a 4 minute walk away, according to motherfucking Google Maps. 5 minutes if you use Apple Maps.” 

 “I don’t know, ok! I saw the baby wipes and I just kinda went with the flow, sue me!” Damnit, she knew she tasted real milk in her strawberry banana smoothie. God, the price of being ethnic in this dairy filled world. 

 “I called you over here to explain the plan! So I don’t bother you mid masturbation! And you just had to take a dump, didn’t you? On the plan, and my fucking toilet, too!” 

 She was weary after her back to back classes from 9-5 when Zuko excitedly called her up to come to his place. As much of a bitch baby Zuko could be, Katara tries to visit his place as much as she can. His apartment was just upgraded, meaning he had a state of the art microwave. One that doesn’t third degree burn her ham and cheese Hot Pockets, but rather cooks them perfectly to the tune of the package instructions, and makes them all fluffy and culinary excellence. Plus, he lives further from the heroin infested park she lived right next to, meaning his building smelt like a Clinique cosmetics counter (or: old lady) rather than pure urine like hers. And he didn’t have to run home in fear of being chased. 

 Besides, he’s all she’s got right now. He explained his plan as the roof of her mouth is assaulted by the gooey cheese of the Hot Pocket. Zuko eagerly handed over the flyers that were shoved into his hands as he was walking to campus. 

 “Do you see the funds these bitches got? We have to go! We need to become part of Asian Greek life!” 

 Although Katara did enjoy seeing the copious amount of free food potential, she was skeptical. “This is all free?” 

 “Yes, oh my god! Read the damn flyer! They’re living it up while we try to fit spinach in our budget to buy White Claw. Free alc, and free tacos! C’mon, we don’t even have to get into the sorority or frat. Just go through the rush process, and try to get as much free food as possible.” Zuko sits on his bed beside her, and even shakes her by the shoulders for emphasis. She swats his hands away while he chuckles.

 Katara side eyes him. “Aren’t you already behind on your lectures? I don’t know, do we really want to waste time doing this?”

 Zuko sends her a sheepish smile, but grabs her hand. For reassurance purposes, of course. “It’s just one week. Let’s just let loose. Maybe we could walk away from this with a few friends. So I don’t bother you mid beating your meat.” Katara can’t help but laugh. 

 On the first night, she was nervous. Zuko was clearly his indifferent self, but deep down she knew he was scared, too. Katara and Zuko weren’t exactly Greek life material . 

 “They thought you were hot, that’s why they flyered you!” Katara yelps while digging through his closet. Zuko ignores the blush growing on his face. “Let’s find a fit that emphasizes that bad boy aesthetic.” 

Katara never did anything half assed. That’s why if they were going to play hot, ignorant Asian Greek lifers, they were going to be the goddamn best. Academy Award nominated and then played by Scarlett Johansson in a biopic type of acting. 

 “What’s wrong with what I usually wear? Is the leather jacket not, quote unquote, bad boy enough?” Zuko runs his hands through his shaggy hair, which Katara had encouraged him to not style. She’d never admit it, but maybe her sexual awakening coincided with Zuko growing his hair out. Maybe. 

 “Yeah, yeah. Maybe to Tumblr , but not for fuckboys.” She groans because of course Zuko has good fashion taste. Maybe him being hot helps with how clothes looked, but they all screamed fashion and not basic fuckboy . Which was the vibe of the night. “God, do you have the entire Forever 21 Black t shirt aisle in here?” 

 Before he could retort, Zuko’s interrupted by Jet coming into their room to grab his dumb Hydroflask. It’s dumb because it’s so goddamn big, for no good reason. 

 “Hey, Katara,” Jet is smirking. Ew . 

 Zuko feels jealousy, the type that makes your body grow all hot and makes you want to punch a mattress and Jet’s pleasantly symmetrical face. God, why is he so fucking pretty? He reminds himself that Katara was entirely off limits , and schools his face. He gets these types of pangs of envy once in a while, usually during the Mercury Retrograde. Ever since they were kids, he knew Katara was going to be in his life forever. He wasn’t about to fuck that up. Not with emotions or anything. 

 “Hey, Jet!” Katara chirps. She couldn’t help it, her pussy is weak for pretty men. She knew that look on his face. The eyes that roamed her body clad in the tight top and jeans that made sure her ass looked like she paid for it. Thank you, Fashionnova. 

 He gives her a hot guy half hug, and she’s melting. Calm down, girl Katara warns her pussy. “See you around. Zuko, I’m going to Target, do you need anything?”

 Zuko frowns at the sight of a fangirling Katara. “Nope.” Jet nods, and even offers up a smile. He hates that he smiles back. 

 Katara swoons. She flops on Zuko’s bed, eyes all dreamy and starry. “That’s the vibe you need to give off!” 

 “What, that I have HPV?” 

 “Exactly! See, that’s the type of fuckboy you need to be. You can have the same pussy clenching effect with the right, basic clothes. You’re hot, and you have a badass scar. You just need a striped Guess shirt and white Nike Air Force 1s to complete the getup.” 

 So, Zuko digs through his closet from his hypebeast phase to find a pair of white sneakers (“Reeboks aren’t basic enough!” Katara protests) and borrows the Guess shirt from Katara, and they were ready to scam.

 Fuck. The damn tacos. And then it was all you can eat Korean food. Then it was free avant garde ice cream at that one place that cost you an ovary to even sample the vanilla bean flavor. 

 The first night of rushing, all you can eat Korean food, and they were already putting on the pounds. 

 “ Holy fucking cheese dick! I think I gained the weight of a Kardashian ass filler in just today alone! I can’t breathe. Zuko, hold up.” She puts her hand out, halting their walk back to her place. “I need to unbutton my pants.” She had one too many plates of kimchi spam fried rice.

 Zuko burps graciously. Goddamn kimbap. He swallowed that shit whole, choking a few times throughout the night. “Me fucking too! Oh my god, I can’t breathe.” 

 “In through your nose. Out with your dairy shits.” 

 As soon as they got back to her apartment, they immediately reached for Lactaid, and then went over the events of the night. 

 “What do you think of Ty Lee? All the guys were drooling over her,” Zuko asks. Katara ditched her elaborate makeup, scrubbing her face clean and was in one of Zuko’s t shirts he’s long given up trying to get back from her. She’s twirling an expensive mechanical pencil between her fingers, the kind that has super precise lead and matches her pencil case and laptop. For the aesthetic. 

 “She’s the type of bitch to eat salt and vinegar chips at 9 in the morning.” 

 “What’s the difference between girls who eat salt and vinegar chips in the morning, and girls who eat Hot Cheetos in the morning?” Zuko’s scratching at his head, brain still foggy from all the Doritos he’s practically inhaled. He’s topless, and has one of the many sweats he leaves behind at Katara’s because their sleepovers were some of his favorite memories growing up. Even if they have to squeeze Zuko’s six foot tall ass in twin beds now. 

 “One has class. The other needs therapy.” 

 He squints from his spot at her desk, typing interrupted to push up his round glasses. “I see.” 

 “I saw you really hit it off with Mai,” Katara made sure to keep her voice even. “She was really into you.” 

 Zuko whips his head around to her. “Really?” He yelps. “Stay out of my business!” Katara throws her hands up in mock surrender. “...Did she say anything about me?” 

 “She said she was so tired of medium ugly frat brothers and that you showing up sent her cooch into anaphylactic shock,” Katara deadpans.

 “Really!” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

 “No, she just said you were handsome. And then I told her ‘don't call him handsome unless he's about to hand some money over,’ and then she laughed and then thirst followed you on Instagram.” 

 Zuko scrambles to check his phone. “Oh my god, she’s so cute,” he whispers, eyes enraptured by her Instagram feed. Katara rolls her eyes when he jumps into her bed, knocking her work aside to shove his greasy iPhone 6s in her face. 

 Katara slaps it right out of his hand. “Ugh, not the 6s.” 

 Zuko practically melts. “You said she thinks I’m hot, right?” Katara pokes at a man tit before curling up at his side. 

 “You’re annoying.” 

 Zuko grabs Katara's hand, playing with the tiny fingers. “I’m adorable.” 

 She snorts. “You know, we should make a pact. If we’re getting this invested into the whole process. Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”  

 “Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare with Katara cozied up next to him. 

 //

 The second night, ice cream night, and Katara was slipping. 

 “What do you usually look for in a guy?” 

 “I usually just look away,” Katara admits, shrugging. She doesn’t forget to plaster a well practiced, non threatening smile on her face. 

 “Preferred places for guys to cum?” Another sorority girl asks. Other rushees are nodding enthusiastically, carefully preparing their answers. 

 “To his senses,” Katara huffs. 

 “I usually like a backshot!” Ty Lee says enthusiastically, despite the other sisters eyeing Katara warily. Ty Lee insisted that Katara would be a good fit for the sorority. She looked like the only one on her side.

 While the girls were excitedly dancing along to the music playing in the shop, Katara’s eye twitches. It was the feminist in her. “If you still like Chris Brown, you’re ugly,” Katara is adamant, not relenting despite the incredulous, wide eye stares from the gaggle of sorority girls. 

 “Well, I guess I’m ugly then!” Mai yelps, hands crossed over her chest defiantly. 

 Katara smiles carefully. “You sure are, bitch!” 

 Fuck Katara was messing this up. She needed to make sure that they were convinced Katara was sorority girl material to move onto the next level of the secret invite only event. Fuck, fuck, fuck . 

 She wasn’t about to let Zuko win at anything!

 Mai squints at her. “Are you a clit being handled by a frat brother? Because you’re really rubbing me the wrong way.”

 Ty Lee gasps. “Please excuse her, Indica makes her grumpy.” 

 Katara glares. “None taken.” 

 She likes Ty Lee, that much she’s gathered. And, it seems as though Ty Lee had grown to like her back, making sure Katara gets enough ice cream throughout the night, even turning her head when Katara pulls out a Tupperware from her backpack to bring back the dessert to her apartment. 

 That was until Ty Lee remembered she had a flask hidden up her skirt, a necessity post fuckboy cheats on you .  “I-I just called to say I don’t miss you! And that your dick smells like a stapler that has been microwaved for 25 seconds. Like, you can block me all you want. But you can’t uneat this ass. Sorry, I don’t make the rules!” Katara does damage control, and dutifully snatches the phone from her hands.

 Crossing her arms like a mother disciplining her child, she levels Ty Lee with a concerned look. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

 Ty Lee gets up and stumbles on her way to hug Katara. “I can’t leave him! I love him so, so much. He’s my fucking ride or die, the Quavo to my Saweetie! The pitchy singing to my Selena Gomez! The Marlene to my Rosa! The badly glued fake eyelashes to my Asian sorority girl,” Ty Lee is crying and loud and her anime like tits are bouncing with every sob that comes. 

 Katara takes the flask of peach vodka from her trembling hands, and shakes the girl. “Look, bitch. You’re better than this.” 

 “No, I’m really not!” 

 Katara pokes the girl in the forehead. “Yes, bitch you definitely are. You’re a bad bitch that got adicktated. But that’s ok.” She tilts the red faced girl’s head back, making sure the cup of water goes down her throat. “So what if you fell in love a little? You’re in your bag bitch, you don’t need provolone smelling dick to dicktate your life!” 

 She rubs at her snot filled nose, and then wipes her fist on her mini skirt. “You really think so?” 

 “Bitch, I know so . Go be a slut, forget about Chan’s ass flake. Now hand over your phone. Drunk yelling over the phone is not the move for the night.” The other active Deltas sisters were running back from a group bathroom visit, after realizing it was Ty Lee’s bad decisions o’ clock . They came back to see the chastised girl determindly eating Ube flavored ice cream, without a phone to do dumb shit in her hands. Mai can’t help but start liking Katara. 

 //

 The third night, and it’s the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. IT was a slam fucking dunk. They had gotten catering from everybody’s favorite taco place at the Pi Alpha Psi frat house. And a fucking DIY boba bar. A boba bar! A goddamn boba bar. Katara had a ziplock baggie filled with the tapioca pearls in her left jean pocket. 

 All Deltas rushees were meant to be socializing with Pi Alpha Psi brothers. The active sisters were trying to see who were the classy whores in the group. They didn’t want admitted whores, just subtle ones. After fending off another medium ugly brother from trying to stare at her tits, Katara corners Zuko, who hands her another shot to take for him. “Why was that guy dressed like an uninvolved father?” 

 “What’s that supposed to look like?” 

 “Sweaty, and smells vaguely of disappointment.” 

 Zuko coughs. “I’m sad that hit way too close to home.” 

 Katara looks devastated for a split second, until Zuko starts laughing at his own joke. Then, she smacks him upside the head. “You know, you should be thankful for me. I got you looking exactly like a Pi Alpha Psi brother. Even down to the shoes.” Katara glares ahead. “God, I hate that we have to wear shoes on in this house. I hate looking at Haru’s Black Air Force 1s. Anything but those. Anything but those .” 

//

 The fourth night and they had successfully scammed the Greek system. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams, bursting through his door without preamble. “Look what Ty Lee sent—wait a minute. What the fuck are you doing?” She pauses in shoving the phone in his face to see him face down in his calculus textbook. 

 “I’m trying to find a natural way to stay focused.” 

 Katara crosses her arms. “Have you considered adderall?” 

 Zuko snorts, clearly annoyed. “That’s literally prescription meth.” 

 “And what about it?” She slams her body, face first into his bed. “‘ Hey get ready tomorrow because we have an exclusive, invite only clubbing invite and the girls and I really really want you to come! ’” Katara reads the Instagram message verbatim from her phone, her chest swelling with unbridled pride. “I deserve an Academy Award.” 

 Zuko plops his body right on top of hers, relishing in how she groans under his added weight. “Run me my Golden Globe because according to Chan, my ‘ass better be ready to get nasty at Club Nyla .’” 

 “Shut the booger sugar up!” 

 So (on a Thursday night ) Katara and Zuko crowd in the party bus the generous Asian Greek system had funded in the name of “cultural bonding.” She can barely breathe, tits pushed in the most fuckable way possible, and she feels her face heating from the shots forced down her throat because her (potential) sisters had insisted on heavily pregaming. 

 While the frat brothers were perfectly content to sitting and not making any sort of movement whatsoever in the name of looking cool , the girls on the other hand were having the time of their lives. 

 “Oh my fucking god, for the last time Ty Lee, I cannot join the grind train, I do not have mental stability to keep my balance and shake my ass at the same time,” Katara lightly chastises, shoving the drunk girl gently off of her. Ty Lee simply shrugs, and then continues to gyrate on the gaggle of girls. The music was pounding, everyone was sweating from the amount of unrestrained dancing happening, and Katara’s pretty sure some girl just bruised her pussy after accidentally smacking it (hard) on the bus’s stripper poles. Disco lights bathe the entirety of the vehicle, enveloped in the screams and squeals of Asian girls trying to twerk and scream along to lyrics at the same time. 

 It was pure fucking chaos. But so goddamn fun . The girls kept constantly grabbing her hips in an attempt to yike on her helpless ass, which Katara abruptly stopped by flicking off their hands. All to the tune of “The Box” by Roddy Rich. 

 “Let me hear everyone loud and clear! ‘Fuck 12!’” Katara screams to a crowd of bewildered frat brothers. 

 “Katara, no,” Zuko’s laughing too hard, the alcohol making him feel lightheaded. Heavy rap music permeated the walls of the bus, and he feels a headache building. But he feels a little better seeing Katara having fun, nearly choking to death after taking a hit from some brother’s joint. 

 “Don’t laugh, I don’t smoke that often!” She insists. 

 Zuko throws his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “If you die, at least it was in a party bus while Travis Scott was playing.” 

 “I’d rather die in an Acura!” Katara yelps, getting up in mock frustration. While Zuko is simply losing his mind at her attitude, she accidentally stumbles as the bus comes to an abrupt stop, and lands in Zuko’s lap. 

 She’s chortling, moving about to get up. Zuko tries his hardest not to let his heart pound impossibly loud. 

 After IDs were checked, and a Drake song was forcibly requested by the obnoxious group of frat brothers, the clubbing event was in full swing. Yet, it paled in comparison to the fun and chaotic energy of the party bus. Frat brothers were attempting to dance, Asian girls were trying their hardest to twerk. 

 Katara is doing her duty as the most sober one out of the bunch and pushes random guys away before they could grab at her sisters’ hips. “You know, God gives flat asses to his strongest soldiers,” she mumbles, lips dangerously close to his ear. They were sitting down in the private seating area near the dance floor, exhausted beyond belief and watching the sorority girls’ attempts at clapping what little cheeks they did have. 

 Ty Lee clumsily grabs at Katara, screaming about having to piss and call her ex. Her cue to save the day. She gives Zuko an apologetic look, and whispers “I’m gonna win” before grabbing Ty Lee’s hand. 

 While he’s checking on his Neko Atsume cats, Chan’s Pepto Bismal smelling self is sidling up to his side. “Bro, you should fuck her. She’s got amazing tits.” 

 Zuko smirks, before schooling his features. That was already an observation he made when he was 16. Nice try, fuckboy. Chan continues, not caring if Zuko responds to him. “Pound that pussy like rent is due tomorrow! You have to get at that big, fat, moose sized pussy at the Airbnb we’re headed to after this.”

  Ty Lee is blubbering, snot running freely down her face as though she was a 5 year old at Chuck E. Cheese realizing they didn’t have enough tickets to afford a beaded necklace. “Every time he goes down on me, it feels like my pussy’s getting colonized. Is that what love is supposed to feel like.” 

 Katara paused in rubbing her back. “Oh my god.” 

 Ty Lee grabs at Katara’s shoulders, toilet and unsteady stomach forgotten. “Please, for the sake of the female population. Fuck Zuko. We need to know if he’s packing that schmeat.”

 Katara gasps. “No fucking way, we’re just friends!” 

 The inebriated girl clutches Katara’s face in between her sweaty palms, lowering her voice in a volume she thinks counted as a whisper. It was more of a scream than anything else. “We always try to get the hottest rushees to fuck each other at the Airbnb. Then, you’ll definitely make it into Deltas. Because if anyone deserves to throw that neck back on Zuko, it’s you.” 

 “Well gee, thanks. I’m touched.” 

 //

 “Moan harder! Don’t sound like I’m forcing you to fuck me! This isn’t no 90 Day Fiance shit! I thought you were an actor. Where is the commitment to the craft? You sound like you’re a dying tractor. Do better!” Katara continues jumping on the bed, trying to emulate a good old fucking. Zuko breathes in, before an unrestrained groan comes from his lips. Katara’s cooch instantly quakes.

 Their shoes were off, at her insistence, sheets already strewn about to make it believable. She could hear the snickering behind the door she’s triple checked to make sure it was locked and unable to be seen through the keyhole, her thong shoved in front of it to ensure their privacy.  

 “Zuko, Zuko, Zuko!” she pants, makine her voice sound as fucked out as possible. “I can’t!” 

 He continues smacking his arm, trying his best to replicate the sound of cheeks being clapped. “Baby, yes you can. You’re taking me like a fucking champ.” 

 Katara almost couldn’t hold back her giggle. This was all so fucking ridiculous. Taken straight out of a Larry smut scene. But they had a job to finish, a lifestyle they needed to live out, a pact to win. She whines, he lets out a moan. They bite their fist before they lost their minds and ruined the scam. She could imagine the title to their terrible porn video: college girl takes BEC (big emo cock). 

 “So, so good!” Katara made sure to make her voice sound as strained as possible, jumping even harder on the mattress. Zuko is ashamed to say his dick twitched in his pants the slightest. “So goddamn big. I feel so full!” 

 “Thanks for thinking I have a big dick,” he mutters, before letting out another wanton cry. 

 “Please be quiet!” Her little faux whimpers are simply killing Zuko, a blush creeping on his neck. He may or may not be jerking off to a sound now burned in his memory. 

 “Ready for the grand finale?” Zuko’s bewildered, pausing in his erratic jumping on the mattress. Katara jumps as hard as she can three times, before landing a punch square into Zuko’s stomach. It’s unexpected, and he doubles over, wheezing and pathetically gasping for air. 

 “Baby, cum in me!” Katara mewls, a devious smile on her face. 

 Zuko frowns, rubbing at his sore stomach. “Really? You’re that invested in this role? You would hurt your bestest friend in this world?” 

 “Shut up! Let me bully you.”

 They leave the room, ensuring their hair looked as disheveled as possible, clothes put on backwards, and Katara’s lip gloss smeared across his face. It tasted like Starbursts and scams. 

 The pair were suddenly enveloped in violent cheers. Muscled frat brothers were taking their beefy arms and slapping Zuko’s chest in celebration. Zuko could see Katara blushing, acting bashful and even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for emphasis. He rolls his eyes, and deftly decided his heart was indeed forever stolen by the bat shit crazy bitch. 

 “My man!” Chan howls, grabbing Zuko in a signature bro hug. “Any other Deltas you want to raw dog tonight?” 

 Zuko’s gaze was focused on Katara’s smiling face. “This dick belongs to one woman.” 

 //

 They sorority and fraternity wearily climbed back into the party bus in the wee hours of the morning, needing to make the trek back in time for classes. Everyone was to stop by the Psi Alpha Psi house to collect their stuff, and then make their way home. 

 Zuko’s nodding off, too tired to continue breathing when Katara pokes him expertly in the arm. “What?” 

 “We’re going to steal the house trophy when we get back.” 

 He gasps. “Not Beatrice.” 

 “Yes, Beatrice!” 

 “Why do you want a $9 dildo from Amazon anyways?” 

 Katara sighs. “I overheard them this morning. The Deltas and Psi Alpha Psi. They were running through photos of girls and guys that rushed that didn’t make it through the process. And they were so fucking mean , Zuko. Like I almost cried, and they didn’t even roast my ass. Like Co-Star level bullying. They don’t deserve Beatrice. We do.” 

 “So, bet’s off?” He cracks his knuckles in anticipation. She simply nods. 

 //

 “You bitch. You didn’t have to slam me so fucking hard!” Katara reprimands. Zuko silences her with a passionate kiss that has every emotion she could possibly feel tingling throughout her whole body. She’s pushed up against the fireplace, clutching the wall behind her as though finding something to grind her against Zuko’s fiery passion. They were simply mimicking the rest of the group coming back, girls pressed against the frat brothers, trying to make the most of their remaining high instead of heading to class. 

 They pause to take a breath of air, (they could hear Mai mock gagging in the back) before sending each other a secret nod. 

 “You feel that pucker in your asshole? You know shit’s about to get real,” Katara says in a low voice. 

 Zuko’s slamming her against the fireplace once more, this time Katara’s hand now finding contact with Beatrice herself. In a flash she’s shoving the phallic toy in her jacket, sprinting for the door. 

 Chan, eagle eyed as ever, and experienced in the art of recognizing dildo thievery, instantly shoves Ty Lee off his lap. “Don’t you dare take the fucking house trophy, bitch!” He barely finishes his sentence, before he’s shoved to the ground by an enthusiastic Zuko, who grabs Katara’s hand and breaks into a run. 

 They run, run, run until they reach Zuko’s apartment, collapsing on the patch of fake grass at the front of the building. He still has his hand intertwined with hers, her other hand having a vice like grip on the sex toy. 

 “You know what, I don’t care about making other friends. You’re all I need.” 

 “I know.” Katara can’t stop the smile from growing on her face. 

[cecilspeaks]

156 - The Trouble with Time

‘tis better to have loved and lost Than to be slowly eaten whilst still alive. There are, on the whole, Many things worse than having loved and lost. Welcome to Night Vale.

Well, listeners, we have all been grappling with the same problem. Time has become normal in Night Vale, or as normal as time ever is. Time is pretty weird everywhere. As a result of this shift in our experience of time, none of us are remaining the same age for centuries anymore. We are aging one year per year, one month per month, one second per precious second. Every moment that passes our skin is less supple. Our mind is less pliant. Our joints ache just a little more.

The entire town is in an uproar, as we are all coming to terms with the idea of getting older. Gym memberships have soared. Everyone is talking at the same time and they’re all recommending green juice diets to each other. The City Council has tried to make ageing illegal, but it turns out this would be unconstitutional as the Supreme Court decided that slow deterioration of the mind and body is an American right.

I myself am not immune to these worries. When I think about what my life would be like after Carlos or, what his life would be like after me… These are the kinds of fears that can’t be shaken off by the light of day. That linger, even after all the shadows of evening have faded. Is love a gift in a finite world? I’d like to think so, but oh, my stomach is in knots. I’m sure your sis too.

And now a word from our sponsors. Afraid of ageing? Terrified of the tides of time? Spooked by the sequential nature of existence? Stop looking at the calendar and moaning. Sure, it may be cathartic to start every morning by picking up your alarm clock and shouting: “You are a murderer! Your numbers are murder weapons! I am the murder victim!” But it’s not helping you out. Instead, try lotion. Just lotion those limbs. Lotion that face. Got any other parts? Lotion them too. Rubbing lotion on yourself won’t stop time. It won’t end the inevitability of death. But when you die, you will be silky smooth, and folks will whispers: “Why, it doesn’t look like they’ve aged a single day.” Buy lotion now and we will send you a box of other things that will not stop you from dying, but will make you feel a little better on your way out the door. Such as fish oil pills, a pair of running shoes, and books with titles like “Get Happy Now, or Else”. Lotion – you can’t stop ageing, so settle on mitigating the surface appearance of ageing. And this has been ma word from our sponsors.

In a new press release, Night Vale resident Leah Shapiro announces the Mariam McDonald memoriam fund. This fund, in honor of the recently deceased Mariam, will be used to finally fulfil Mariam’s lifelong dream, a dream she did not live long enough to see come to fruition: the removal of all sand from the Sand Wastes.  Mariam hated the sand, thought it looked frightfully untidy, and that it made a bad first impression for folks just coming to town. She could often be seen when she was alive out with her broom, dutifully sweeping the dunes into her dustpan, and depositing the result into a black trashbag. Obviously, this was slow going, but Leah has vowed to continue Mariam’s quest. “It’s a stupid wish, a real dumb one,” said Leah. “I hate it! I hate it so much, but I don’t know, it’s what Mariam wanted. And so I feel obligated for some reason to keep after it. God, this sucks!” Leah concluded. According to the press release, the Mariam McDonald Memorial Fund currently contains 3 dollars, and is not taking donations. Well, isn’t that the feelgood story of the year? Good luck, Leah. I do hope you get rid of all that sand. Mariam was right, sand is very untidy.

And now for the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner. So today, we will be discussing how to tell whether something is a person. Here are simple tests that can be done at home with whatever you find in your parents’ cabinets when they don’t know you’re looking. Does it grow? It’s a person. Does it bend? It’s a person. Is it square or similar to a square? That’s a person. Nodes or nodules? Person. A frank and enticing laugh? Person. Can it hold liquid? Person. Is it a dog? Yup, that’s a person too. That ooze at the back of your closet? Not a person. We don’t know what hat is, best not to touch it, best not to think on it. Perhaps it is the thinking that gives it its power. This has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

In response to the current “time is normal” crisis, many companies are moving in to offer services to alleviate ageing. Arby’s is suggesting that a regular diet of roast beef has been shown to extend life expectancy by up to 20 years. When they were asked who showed that and how they did so, Arby’s kind of mumbled and sad that they would have those sources for us soon, but in the meantime, come on down and buy yourself a meal. 

A number of new gyms have opened up in town, promising advanced workouts that will keep the body and mind tiptop. There is an LA Fitness, also a 26 Hour Fitness, which promises workouts at any time day or night, plus two bonus hours every day that are only experienced by members. And local legend Louie Blasko has started what he calls a Crossfit gym, but it appears to be just the burned out remains of his old music store, untouched since the night of the fire. “Oh yeah,” Louie said. “You can really get a good workout in here, believe me.” His eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

A different angle is being taken by newcomer to town, Casper Rhodes. Casper says that he has conquered the ultimate obstacle: death itself. He does this by freezing the brain upon death until it can be resuscitated by advanced technologies of the future. “Cryogenics means never having to say ‘I’m dead’,” Casper declared, whirling around the red cape he wears and wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh yes, this is a completely real technology. Once you die, we simply and safely remove your bran and freeze it in here.” He indicated the disused grain silo on the edge of town. “That thing is full of brains,” he said. “And each of those brains will be reanimated to a bright and beautiful future hundreds of years from now, and you can too, for a mere 10,000 dollars. Payable upfront, no refunds offered.”

Suspicious journalists asked if they could take a peek in the grain silo and see if it was actually full of brains. But Mr. Rhodes blocked the door with his body. “Uh oh uh,” he said. “Opening the door would mess up the, uh, freezing process. Uh, wouldn’t want that to happen. You just have to trust us.” Hmmmmm.

And now traffic. It’s looking pretty clear on the roads right now. There isn’t a single car to be seen. The parking lots are barren, the highways are mere doodles of the gods without the roaring machines that give them purpose. Where did every car disappear to? We wonder this as we walk to work. Walk to school. Learning the limits and the capacity of our own legs, magnificent machines attached to our own bodies that we had long ago discounted, but now can only propel ourselves by the length of them. And then again and again, one after another. The hours pass and we gradually pass through them, and where are the cars? Did they ever exist? The factories where cars once were built are now full of robots with no purpose, arms ending in specialized tools and drills, all designed to construct a thing that no longer is there to be constructed. And so they bob and weave for nothing. In this way, perhaps, it could be said that they are dancing. To take purpose from a movement is to suggest the possibility of art within it, that perhaps the movement could have meaning merely for itself, but I ask again: where are the cars? Where did they go? Every other form of transportation still exists. Planes still claw their way into the stratosphere, while boats wobble on churning seas. Motorcycles even, given the compete freedom of the highway, tearing into the turns and straightaways at dangerous speeds, but no cars. Was it something we did? Is this our fault? At least there’s no traffic, I guess, and we’re all getting a little more time outdoors which is nice and, oh – Nevermind. The cars are back, all of them. Aaaall at once, driverless and speeding. Well, it’s nice to have them back. This has been traffic.

And now for corrections. In a previous editorial aired on this station, a reporter indicated his belief that peanut butter is a type of rock. That reporter sincerely believed, based on a half remembered lesson from elementary school that he now realizes might have actually been a cartoon he watched, that peanut butter along with sedimentary, metamorphic, and ignius was in fact one of the main types of rock. This reported harbored no ill intent when he lectured for what may or may not have been two hours about his belief that peanut butter was a type of rock. This well meaning reporter may have ignored several calls from his scientist husband, who was trying to get through to correct this completely understandable mistake. But the reporter was on such a roll that he didn’t even notice the calls coming in. Which could happen to anyone. The reporter may have even printed up posters for local schools showing the types of rock, with peanut butter prominently included. If that is the case, these schools should feel free to return the erroneous posters, or keep them, if they feel it might be in some way educational. In any case, the reporter in question regrets the error and now amidst that maybe, peanut butter isn’t a type of rock. Maybe that’s true. Decide for yourself. This has been corrections.

Casper Rhodes and his Quality Cryogenics Corporation continue to advertise their dubious service all over town. He has bought a billboard next to the Waterfront Recreation Area declaring: “A new life awaits you in the future”, with a picture of a disembodied brain that is somehow both smiling an giving a thumbs up, despite its lack of hands and mouth. The Quality Cryogenics Corporation strung a banner along the top of the disused grain silo on the edge of town saying the name of the company. Except the word “quality” has been misspelled, as has “corporation”. Listeners, I am not one to editorialize, not after the recent peanut butter debacle we’ve heard so much about. But it does not seem to me that this Mr. Rhodes is on the up and up. Nothing about this strikes me as a scientific operation, and trust me, I know from scientific operations. Despite these warning signs, a few people have in fact taken them up on their offer, including weekday shift managers at the Ralphs, Charlie Bear, whose lifetime ambition of becoming a ghost has recently curdled into a frantic fear of death. “I thought we had eternity. Now every minute spent is a minute lost,” Charlie said to me when I asked him if they had any more cilantro. So that was a bummer on my afternoon. I must warn everyone not to buy into this Casper charlatan’s lies. Cryogenically freezing brains is not going to save you. In fact, it is time for me to bust this scam wide open. I will sneak into the disused grain silo, and I will tel you what is inside. Then all of us will know the truth.

As I head over there, Let’s all head over To the weather.

[“Revolution Lover” by Left At London http://leftatlondon.com]

OK, listeners I’m.. hold on. This portable recording rig is just a little heavy. Whoo! I have got to get back to my weight training. I was deadlifting as much as 15 pounds, and now look at me.

OK, I am looking up at the towering disused grain silo on the edge of town. The silo that one Casper Rhodes would claim contains cryogenically frozen brains, destined to be reawakened in the future. Well, I’m sure Mr. Rhodes, but allow me to just check in on it myself. The door to the silo is locked with a padlock and heavy chain. Fortunately, I don’t go anywhere without my Special Reporter’s welding torch. It comes in handy more than you’d think. [welding noises] And off it goes. Another win for the first amendment. Listeners, I am opening the heavy metal doors [creaking], and inside it is dark even in this late afternoon sun. I am stepping in. [voice echoing] My eyes are adjusting and oh my god! Listeners, oh my god! The tanks are full, frozen intact human brains, attached to various support equipment, it is all completely clean and seemingly running well, this – this isn’t a scam! The great Casper Rhodes is telling the truth! Death is now voluntary, aging is meaningless! We will all see the future! We will ALL see the future!

Listeners, I must go, I must talk to my husband. We could be together forever, don’t you see? A new world awaits us in the future! I must talk to Carlos, I must! [equipment drops]

Today’s proverb: On one hand, you have skin. On the other hand, you don’t- oh man, what happened to that hand?!!

[arcanesupern0va]

Down With The Rickness; Ch3: Scene Of The Crime

Summary: Vindicators 3: The Return of World Ender? Never heard of him either.

A/N: Thank you for reading this far and thank you so much for your continued support. ♥ So I think the next one is gonna be a Halloween inspired one. I watched a movie last night that I really wanted to just force Rick into so I think that's what's going to happen. Probably won't be anywhere near as oooey gooey as this one was but I can't resist making Rick a goshdang sap because it's my god given right. Hahaha. Be sure to let me know what you think! Unless it's mean and just generally not constructive in which case pls don't because I am soft and my feelings bruise easily.

CW: Thar be Drunk Rick here. And blatant use of an episode.  Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6704

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch2: Silhouettes|

Surprisingly, it was a horrid stench that woke me up, along with Morty gently nudging me into consciousness. I groaned, rolling over and bringing the blanket up to cover my nose and save me from the horrendous smell that had permeated the room.

“C-Come on Aunt Nova, we gotta go,” Morty murmured, shaking me again before standing up and moving away from the bed. “Rick, uh- He had one hell of a night last night.”

Whatever I had been imagining didn’t match what I found in the conference room. Rick was splayed out, completely coated with shit and sleeping peacefully despite it. I clasped my hand to my face trying desperately to purge the image from my brain before it made itself at home. I turned to focus on Supernova and Morty, turning my back on Rick completely.

“Good morning. Looks like your boyfriend had a long night,” she remarked. My cheeks burned as I peeked around her despite myself, seeing the full extent Rick’s mess went to. “Crocubot, why don't you escort Mr. Sanchez to a more comfortable spot so that someone can… clean up his diarrhea.”

“Whoa, I'm nervous about my first mission,” Noob Noob declared proudly, entering the conference room toting multiple weapons.

“Actually Noob Noob, you have a new mission,” Supernova told him coldly, flicking her wrist to replace the weapons with a mop.

“Got damn,” he said sadly, resigning himself to his new “mission”.

“Vindicators, prepare for arrival. Worldender dies today, with or without Rick’s help.” She ordered, leading us to the ship we would be descending to Worldender’s hideout planet in.

My head was still reeling as the ship took off from the main ship and soared down to Worldender’s planet. Morty kept me calm, explaining the different Vindicators to me before we were forced to drop down onto the planet from midair. Vance grabbed my waist with a sly grin, pulling me uncomfortably close to him before jumping out of the back and landing safely on the ground below. I pulled away from him quickly, only to be confronted with the pungent smell of burning flesh and rotting corpses as I surveyed my surroundings. Most of the planet seemed to be composed of corpses and bones and it just reinforced my assumption that the vast majority of space was just disgusting. Vance offered me a handkerchief to cover my nose with but I politely declined, not wanting to offer him any more of an ‘in’ than he already thought he had. I used the sleeve of my shirt instead, pressing it against my face hard enough that the skin ached around my nostrils from the pressure.

“A-Aunt Nova, are you okay?” Morty asked, looking up at me with concern plastered all over his face but noticeably unbothered by the smell.

“Y-Yeah,” I coughed, unsurprised the air tasted as bad as it smelled, “how are you so relaxed right now? This place fucking reeks.”

“Oh, Rick implanted me with a scent filter for my nose. There was a planet that smelled like burnt tires and rotten eggs and he got tired of hearing me complain about it,” Morty explained, “Sure, it’s based off Rick’s preferences so I haven’t smelled lavender and sweet pea in over a month but whatever you’re going through looks like it sucks.”

“So you can’t smell anything right now?” I asked, astonished.

“Nope,” he shrugged, “right now all I can smell is your shampoo and Vance’s cologne.”

“Must be fuckin’ nice,” I grumbled, staring at the ground ahead of me as we followed behind Supernova.

Drones approached us at an alarming pace but Supernova made quick work of them using the powers of whatever the “Star Mother” was. We advanced, only to come to a total dead end. This time it was Alan Rails’ turn, somehow creating a train to blast through the wall so we could advance further.

“Is it just me, or are their powers a little… stupid?” I whispered under my breath to Morty, only to earn an annoyed sigh.

“You sound just like Rick. These are actual superheroes, Aunt Nova. Most people just get movies but you’re actually in the presence of people that do everything they can for the better good,” Morty chastised.

“Like, I get that but even you have to admit they’re pretty lame. I mean, sure Supernova uses powers from some ‘Star Mother’ but like, the one guy is literally just an amalgamation of ants? And Alan can just call on the power of trains? Ghost trains? In what way could that possibly be helpful other than complete and utter destruction?”

“You don’t get it-”

“Aah! Gun Turret,” Million Ants interrupted us.

“Are you alright?” Supernova asked, concern flooding her voice.

“Yes. I only lost 400 ants. My queen is laying more,” he assured her as the holes in his chest mended in front of us, “I am back to one million ants,” he announced proudly as a look of relief flashed over Supernova’s features.

“Someone wake up Sanchez,” she demanded, glaring as she watched Crocubot toss Rick gracelessly onto the ground as Vance bent over him.

“H-Hey, wait- What are you doing?” I started nervously, as Vance pointed a finger at his face. Supernova shook her head briskly at me, holding up a hand as the tip of Vance’s finger opened and a blue gas emerged from it.

“Ugh,” Rick groaned, his bloodshot eyes taking in his surroundings as he familiarized himself with his location. “Oh, christ.”

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Supernova remarked sarcastically.

“Barely,” Rick growled, pulling himself to his feet.

“Rick, we're taking fire from an automated turret. Can you bring it offline?”

Rick grunted in response, pulling out a thermos as we watched him mix chemicals to produce a small creature. He held the plump creature over his eyes, squeezing it and relishing in the relief the liquid it produced offered.

“Ahh, that’s better,” he sighed, blinking away the bloodshot in his eye and looking around the room. His eyes fell on me and for a moment, a look of fear passed through them. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Rick!” Supernova shouted, irritated by the delay.

“I can’t help if I can’t see,” Rick shot back, shaking away his concerns for a moment and pulling out a small roving device that scurried over the floor into the line of fire. The top opened to allow a transparent disc to absorb the bullets before it spit out three compact discs that morphed into small robots. They climbed on top of each other, propelling themselves up onto the turret and fixating themselves over the barrel. Rick winked at me before jumping in front of the turrets in a ‘ta-da’ pose and I felt my heart drop as the turrets began shooting. I’ve moved to go after him, to pull him out of what I assumed to be certain doom but he turned to face me, grinning like a madman as the turrets fired until they exploded.

“And that’s how you do it, baby.”

“I could've just used a ghost train,” Alan grumbled, shoving past Rick and continuing through the door.

“Really? You don't say. You would have used a ghost train?” Rick gloated, rolling his eyes as he looked around the room. “H-Hey, everybody, the ghost train guy would have used a ghost train!” The rest of the Vindicator and Morty pushed passed him, mumbling under their breath and shooting looks of disgust and irritation at Rick as they passed.

“Is there coffee?” Rick asked, stopping Morty as he pressed on past his grandfather, the disgust and irritation even more prevalent on his face than the rest of them, “H-Hey, Morty, can you be a pal? Grandpa left his coffee maker on the ship. Y-You know, the French press thing?”

“Get it yourself,” Morty shot back, going around his grandfather to follow the rest of the team. As I passed him, that same look of fear covered his face as he looked me over, making sure I was okay. Once he seemed satisfied, he turned away to follow the group silently. We navigated the halls to Worldender’s lair in silence, Rick focusing in on Morty to avoid having to face me.

“You’re sni-uuuuurp-ppy this morning,” Rick remarked, following closely behind Morty while also keeping a watchful eye on my progress behind him.

“Just focus on the mission, alright,” Morty snapped, not interested in anything his grandfather had to say at this point.

“Oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry. Oh, you're right. Ooh, real serious. Gotta take it real serious, huh?” Rick said mockingly, glaring at the back of the Vindicator’s heads.

“Rick…” I called out gently, trying to relieve Morty of the punishment of dealing with his hungover grandfather. Rick turned to face me finally, a bit too eagerly for his liking it seemed as he groaned and stopped in his tracks to wait for me to catch up.

“H-Hey, Nova,” he grumbled as I caught up, “You shouldn’t have come.”

“And what, miss out on all the fun?” I chuckled. “Seems like you’ve had one hell of a night.” I watched him carefully, trying to ignore the part of me that was simply relieved that he was awake.

“Yeah, I got, uh, upset,” he shrugged, sidestepping a corpse as we entered a large room.

“I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting me off. “What are you even doing here? You know this is supposed to be incredibly dangerous right?”

“I figured you’d be here,” I shrugged, holding my arm against me and rubbing it.

“Jesus,” Rick muttered, shaking his head.

“Son of a steam engine! They're all dead!” Alan interrupted before Rick could say anything else. I took the room in only to find it littered with corpses, posed in various sex positions.

“Why would Worldender do this to his own men... and several women?” Crocubot asked, confusion leaking into his robotic tone.

“Well, he is the Worldender. The guy ends worlds. Kind of his thing,” Vance said, rolling his eyes. Rick kept moving forward, not interested in the massacre only to step on a hidden panel on the floor. A large hook bearing a corpse swung down from the ceiling in front of us, leaving Vance to cry out in horror, “What the fuck?!”

“It’s Worldender!” Supernova exclaimed, “What happened to him?” Worldender let out a weak moan, alerting us that he was still alive. I stared in horror as the monster on the hook gurgled in agony at us, unable to form any true speech.

“I sense his life force is fading,” Million Ants remarked, moving closer to take a better look.

“Million Ants, ladies and gentlemen! The ant colony with the power of two human eyes!” Rick snarled, unable to help himself. Worldender sputtered some more before an organ flew out of his mouth. “All right. Short mission, good mission. Remember when Alan wanted to use a ghost train? See you guys in Vindicators 4. Morty, Nova?”

“Rick, whoever did this is an even bigger threat than Worldender! We can't leave now!” Morty exclaimed nervously, looking to me for assistance.

“He's right. This is far from over,” Supernova insisted, hovering over to Rick.

“Well, have fun with that. But we have a comet girl, a monorail man, two assholes, and a full alligator to meet in, like, an hour,” Rick dismissed her, ready to head back through the door to the lair. As he turned to leave, however, a large shutter descended in front of him. It missed him by a hair as all of the exits sealed up immediately and left only one remaining door. The Vindicators and Morty prepared themselves for a fight but Rick grabbed my arm and dug into his lab coat for his portal gun, only to come up empty.

“Shit,” I murmured, the real terror of the situation descending on me quickly, realizing whatever had locked us in here truly had us stuck and Rick didn’t have a way out.

“I sense the presence of a greater evil,” Million Ants remarked looking around the room as if whatever it was would pop out at us immediately at his revelations. A large monitor descended from the ceiling, much to my surprise and it immediately cut to a video of a very drunk Rick.

“Check, check, One, two. Okay, is it recording? Good. Hello, Vindicators. Welcome to your reckoning, babyyyyy,” Drunk Rick held the last word out as we all turned to look at him.

“Well, it's official. I had too much to drink last night,” Rick remarked sheepishly, not quite meeting my eye.

“Rick, what did you do?” I asked nervously, my eyes darting around every corner.

“To be honest with you, I don’t really remember,” Rick admitted quietly, his eyes still trained on the monitor.

“ If you guys are watching this, you're, you know, the Vindicators,” Drunk Rick slurred, adjusting the camera to assure he was in the frame.

“R-Rick… buddy…” Vance started, training one of his wrist-mounted pistols on Rick as he looked him up and down cautiously, “What’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“Obviously, I came here last night during a blackout,” Rick told him flatly, gesturing up at the screen.

“Obviously?” Supernova demanded, exasperated, “You came here and defeated our arch-nemesis while so drunk, you don't remember doing it? That's something ‘obvious’ to you?”

“Look, I'm a lit-little more complex than you guys and, no offense, but I've always suspected that a lot of what you do in a year could be knocked out in a couple of hours,” Rick replied nonchalantly. Supernova opened her mouth to speak again but instead trained her attention on the screen.

“...So I thought, why not just do your job for you so we can have a little fun game,” Drunk Rick mumbled, pointing to the left where a spotlight flashed on and illuminated a large board with each of the Vindicators on it along with a defining trait for each of them.

“Rick, what did you do?” I demanded again, eyeing him nervously myself now.

“Is this a ‘Saw’ thing?” Morty asked angrily, moving closer to the board to investigate closer, “Are you ‘Saw’-ing the Vindicators?”

“I’m a drunk Morty, not a hack,” Rick snapped, looking around the room nervously.

“I certainly hope you idiots didn’t bring Nova with you because if you break the rules, lose the game or try to leave, you will die. Like in *uuuuurp* ‘Saw’,” Drunk Rick finished clumsily. Rick’s eyes met mine nervously and my mouth went dry.

“Well, I-I-I think we've seen enough. I'll just figure out how to unplug this,” Rick hurried off quickly looking for a plug while the rest of us stared up at the screen as Drunk Rick continued his tirade.

“Okay, here we go, room number one. The Vindicators are known throughout the galaxy, but do they know yourselves? Do you know yourselves? Match your... your shit, your... your gimmicks with your faces and y-you get it, it's a matching thing. And do it in three minutes, or you'll *uuurp* all die.”

“Screw this, I’m not playing his game,” Vance declared. “I'm gonna find us a way out of here.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, Vance. He said we'd die if you tried to leave,” Rick reasoned, stepping in front of Vance, “I really don’t give a fuck about you but I can’t let Nova die, why in the hell did you assholes let her come again?”

“I informed her of the risks yesterday, she seemed assured that you would keep her safe,” Supernova told him coolly, much to his irritation.

“Th-this guy probably knew she’d be too stubborn to listen to any of you assholes so here’s hoping he didn’t go too crazy with the booby traps.” Rick was trying to convince himself as well as the rest of us as paced back and forth.

“Why are you acting like that's not you?!” Vance demanded hysterically.

“What part of ‘blackout’ don't you understand? I thought you drank?” Rick snarled, looking up from the floor.

“Like cool drinking! Like sexy drinking, not this psycho trailer-park shit!” he bellowed, looking around the room for some kind of reassurance that he was in fact not the crazy one.

“Vance, stay calm…” Morty said cautiously, bringing Vance’s wrath down on him instead.

“Oh, so you're the leader now because we gave you a jacket?! You're the learning-disabled kid we do photo-ops with!” Vance reamed Morty, his breathing quickening with every syllable. I moved to step in, to defend my godson against the sudden onslaught from his heroes when he shook his head at me quickly and swallowed his hurt.

“Okay, ouch, but-”

Vance began hyperventilating fully again, fanning his face against the red that was inching its way up from his collar. “Okay, this... this is triggering me. I need space. I-I need SPACE! FROM THIS!”

Before anyone could stop him, Vance engaged his rocket propellers after eyeing a conveniently placed vent in the ceiling. He shot his way up to it, ripping away the grate and flying into it. Sounds of saws and gunshots echoed as we could do nothing but watch as Vance’s legs contorted in agony before plummeting back down and landing in front of us. We stared in abject horror as one of the rocket boots kicked back to life and started flying around the room leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“I really wish I could say I was sorry about that one,” I murmured numbly, staring at the rocketing foot until Crobubot finally took aim and shot it out of the air. “What the fuck is going on right now?”

“H-Hey, Nova,” Rick started, moving closer in an attempt to comfort me but I winced away from his touch, “it’s gonna be okay, I’m not going to let-”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't crush your windpipe!” Alan interrupted, grabbing Rick by the throat and holding him against the wall.

“Wait, no!” I grabbed Alan’s arm, trying my hardest to pull him away from Rick. I may not be able to reconcile all of this away right now, but I still couldn’t bear to watch him hurt. Alan looked over his shoulder for a moment, pushing me down to the ground with a malicious glint in his eye that was all too familiar before returning his attention to Rick.

“Because my epidermis is laced with a nanofiber defense mesh,” Rick answered coldly, strange electricity covering his body before Alan was launched back away from him. “And because, like I said, I don't remember last night.”

“I told you not to invite this mummified motherfucker back!” Alan bellowed from the ground, shooting a dirty look over his shoulder at Supernova.

“Alan, I'm not proud of what's happening here, but if you keep coming at me or if you touch another hair on Nova’s head, there's gonna be another passenger on that ghost train,” Rick snarled, taking a step toward him and leaning down to really drive his point home.

“Guys!” Morty called over to us, “I figured it out.” While Rick and Alan had been fighting, Morty had taken to solve the puzzle Rick had set up for the Vindicators. “I figured I didn’t want to die so I better actually figure this shit out before this asshole gets us killed.”

“Congrats! You did i-uuuurp-it!” Drunk Rick slurred proudly when the monitor flashed back on. The door opened, revealing our path forward.

“It was a bit. All of the descriptors apply to all of you,” I murmured, reading the descriptors and matching them up to what little Morty had told me about the Vindicators, “Drunk Rick's point is that none of you are very special or different.”

“That's always his point,” Morty affirmed, despondent.

“Let's just get through this as quickly as possible. Then, we'll deal with the three of you,” Supernova said contemptuously, hovering past Rick and me.

“Th-Three of us?” Morty exclaimed, looking heartbroken before he turned his ire to Rick, “I hope you're proud of yourself!”

“Uh, I kind of am. I saved the goddamn universe.”

“That's not the issue, Rick!”

“Ahh, it would've been if I hadn't.”

*+*

We made our way through the next room, losing Crobubot in the process. Drunk Rick appeared on another monitor again, this time sporting a deerstalker cap and presenting a large map for the puzzle of the room. Crobubot’s confidence had chosen to reveal even more questionable backstory about the Vindicators from when Rick hadn’t been with them. This time it was concerning an entire planet they had to destroy because they couldn’t locate their target at the time, something called Doomnomitron. I was stuck watching in real-time as glimmers of hope and respect Morty held for the team started to rapidly deteriorate. Rick pointed out that he could’ve just created a device to seek out Doomnomitron but apparently it had been Alan’s call not to call Rick back.

Morty solved the puzzle yet again and the in-fighting only worsened as we made our way into the next room. This time Drunk Rick was wearing one of my old Hawaiian t-shirts, holding up a coconut filled with more booze.

“Aloha... means hello and goodbye in Hawaii. But, uh, aloha means... has nothing to do with this room,” Drunk Rick sputtered as his head rolled around loosely on his shoulders. “I'm so fucking drunk. Nova’s going to be so mad at me in the morning. Jesus Christ, she better not be in here with you.” Rick’s eyes met mine, unspoken apologies and frustration boiling over. “Ugh, okay, here's the deal. I-I want to rest my eyes for a little bit. I'm--I'm not going to sleep. I just... just need to rest my eyes, so let's make this one simple. Just try to hit some three-pointers.” Lights came on to light up a basketball hoop and a small bomb rigged to blow. “Let's say... you have to hit... five three-pointers in... five minutes or, I don't know, the whole place--the whole planet will get blown up with a n-neutrino bomb. And try to make it a-a lesson about yourselves like, like how... selfish you a-are, or something. Also, Hawaii,” he rambled, his head resting on the desk for a moment. This time, however, the video didn’t cut out and just continued playing as Drunk Rick struggled to keep the contents of his stomach within.

“Jesus Christ,” Rick murmured, staring at himself on the screen before Morty grabbed his arm and dragged him over the neutrino bomb.

“M-Maybe I should take N-Nova to Hawaii,” Drunk Rick mused, stifling down the urge to vomit as he rolled his head back and forth on his workbench, “She thinks I hate her… The fuck is she thinking? I can’t even get up in the morning without thinking about her.”

“O-Oh,” I blurted out, my eyes glued to the screen as Million Ants and Supernova made quick work of the Three Pointer Challenge and Alan Rails started accusing them of some alleged infidelity. Rick’s eyes were still trained on me, however, much to Morty’s chagrin as he continued disarming the bomb without Rick’s help.

“I mean, s-she’s not the brightest when it comes to my work but sh-she’s just brings me so much peace. Like a stupid amount of peace that I don’t deserve,” Drunk Rick continued almost incoherently, “She doesn’t expect me to be the s-smartest guy in the room and sh-she’s never wanted me to solve all of her p-problems even though I’ve tried like hell and p-p-put more effort into her problems - oh, fuck I’m gonna puke - th-than I’ve put into anything else in my life. I-I-I don’t know, sh-she’s just so-so-so special to me. And sh-she keeps asking me what’s wrong and I-I-I don’t know how to explain it to her. I-I-I can’t get drunk and tell her, I mean look what do when I’m just mildly irritated with Morty,” he rambled. I couldn’t stop the watery giggle from falling out of my mouth as my eyes flicked to Rick again. He and Morty were struggling with the drunkenly improvised bomb but my small outburst didn’t go unnoticed by Supernova behind us.

“Something funny to you, girl?” she hissed, her voice wavering. I tore my eyes away from the screen to find Alan, well, everywhere. While I had been enraptured in the drunken ramblings of the emotionally closed-off man I’d fallen in love with, Supernova’s affair with Million Ants had come out into the open. The fight had turned deadly when Supernova had confirmed Million Ants’ superiority in the bedroom, leaving the sentient ant colony to defend the woman he loved. The fight ended when Million Ants possessed the Ghost Train Conductor or whatever the hell he was and exploded him from within, surprisingly killing the “undead” man.

“I-I-I wasn’t- I-I-I didn’t,” I stammered as she descended towards me at an alarming pace.

“You think you can just wander through here while all of my friends are killed at the hands of your… boyfriend,” she spat the word out as though it left a disgusting film in her mouth. “Who’s to say you deserve to live when my team has reduced to shambles.”

“You touch her and what happened to your friends will seem like a day in the park after I’m done with you,” Rick threatened lazily, barely looking up from the bomb as Supernova drew closer.

“Rick!” I squeaked, trembling as the cosmic grew closer, the energy from her righteous anger pulsing around her.

“She’s not going to do shit,” Rick said dismissively, focusing in on the bomb as Morty’s attention was drawn away. “There we go. Disarmed.”

“Y-You’re supposed to be heroes!” Morty bellowed, standing up to face the cosmic atom bomb in front of me. “She hasn’t done anything to you! Leave her alone!”

“Morty- Don’t,” I urged him, as he moved closer to the ticking time bomb in front of me. His words seemed to have an effect, however, and the pulsing around Supernova shrunk as she stood down.

“You will all pay for Rick’s crimes,” she declared coldly. With a flick of her wrist, cuffs appeared around our wrists. “I don’t want you three disappearing once this is over, all of these deaths are on your hands.”

“Oh, come on, maybe a couple of them, but definitely not the train guy,” Rick scoffed, quickly searching the black bands around his wrists for a way out but coming up empty.

“All of them,” Supernova hissed, launching one of the planets hovering around her into Rick’s groin. I moved to rush to his side, only to be launched away from him with another of her planets. “Not so fast. Rick won’t leave you behind, judging by his drunken ramblings, so you’re what I like to call… insurance.” Million Ants made the final three-pointer, allowing the door to open to one final room. It was a simple room, only a small pedestal sitting in the middle of it.

“All right, by now, I've been pretty clear that I think the Vindicators are full of shit,” Drunk Rick slurred on the monitor, taking a bite out of his piece of pizza, “But... you do have one thing I'll never have and probably another that I probably won’t have much longer. The first is the only part of the Vindicators that has any value to me and the second the most amazing thing in the room, besides me. So if you know what they are, place them on the platform. Guess wrong and the pla-planet will explode. And probably the solar system, 'cause I kind of fucking eyeballed the neutrino bombs on this one.”

“So what's the trick? Morty, you're the Drunk Rick expert,” Supernova asked callously, looking between Morty and me.

“I think for the first one... no matter what we put on there, we die. He said it's the part of the Vindicators he values. That means nothing. He wants our last moment alive to be spent knowing how few fucks he gave.”

“Jesus! Okay, open to second opinions!” Supernova glared, looking around at each of us.

“I-It could be Morty,” Rick admitted reluctantly.

“What?!”

“Hey, I don't know,” he shrugged. “I mean, look, when I get drunk, I get stupid and emotional and there's no logic to it. We all heard all that shit from the last room. It's, like, possible I got so drunk, I felt like I was losing Morty to the Vindicators, and maybe this is my way of saying ‘Okay, you can have him, but only if you know how important he is, otherwise I'll kill you.’”

“That is a... really specific guess,” Million Ants remarked.

“Look, I... there's nothing in the room but us. I'm just using logic to connect some dots. It's the best guess I've got.”

“But you're betting our lives on it,” Supernova said accusingly.

“I'll cover that bet. I get it,” Morty said smugly, heading for the platform.

“Wait, Morty, I think you're making that smirky face because you're misinterpreting the moment,” Rick said urgently, “I am not being coy about some hidden love for you. I want to be really clear that, if anyone has a better guess, like, if I gave you an amulet last night, or-” A loud ding rang out and everyone let out a sigh of relief before a chair shot up and scooped up Morty.

“Oh, shit,” Rick swore, staring at the now-empty platform.

“Alright. The second one?” Drunk Rick demanded expectantly.

“Well, go ahead, Nova.” Rick nodded at the platform in frustration.

“M-Me?” I stuttered. “I just watched that thing eat Morty. I don’t think I’m in a hurry to hop on up.”

“Look, he said the most amazing thing in the room. It’s definitely none of these assholes. Do you really think I’m going to hurt you, drunk or not?” Rick said flatly. I walked up to the platform hesitantly, glancing at Rick one last time before another seat appeared, dropping me into a cardboard Tunnel of Love.

“Jesus Nova, couldn’t just stay out of the line of fire could you,” Drunk Rick chuckled, twisting his hands over as I floated down the long tunnel. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick and I’m really sorry you had to go through all of these hacky shenanigans to prove my point to the Vindicators and Morty. I brought you down here because I just didn’t know how to tell you how much I was struggling with all of this. Watching you hurting- Seeing you walk out into that lake and not come back up. Jesus Nova, you know you’re everything to me, right?” His voice cracked and the tears welled in my eyes instantly. “It’s not like I can’t relate though, believe me. When I came back, it was just to give Beth some closure before I killed myself but when I saw you- when I saw the way you looked at me, something changed in me. For once, I can’t explain it.

“I’m sorry for leaving you with these assholes too, by the way. I thought you were going to come with me like you usually do and when you didn’t I just- I don’t know, I took it personally I guess. I got about twenty minutes away before I shut my damn ego up and flew back.” The cart pulled up to the final monitor and much to my surprise, Drunk Rick was crying. “I can’t do this without you, Nova. Please, despite all of the logic in your brain, please don’t give up on me.” I bit my lip, fighting back tears as I stared at the broken man on the screen in front of me. “So just, you know, think about it okay? Whatever you want, I’ll accept but I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry I couldn’t just say this to your face. I’m just… so sorry. Alright Nova, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later.” The cart sped back up the track and soon I was being raised back up through the platform. Morty looked less than amused standing next to his grandfather but I started to rush into his arms, only for one of Supernova’s planets to launch me back to her side.

“Not so fast, girl,” she hissed. The room shuddered and the entire platform began rising from under us.

“I sense this means we’re not dying,” Million Ants said, surveying the room.

“Not all of us,” Supernova said darkly, using her telekinesis to hold Rick, Morty and I up by our throats.

“Sweetheart…” Million Ants started gently, moving toward Supernova.

“Just let Titty-Bean do this, Snuzzles. It's for the greater good,” she replied irritably.

“Titty-Bean?--”

“Greater Good?--” we sputtered under her force-grasp that grew tighter with each movement.

“It's like you said, Morty: there's no right or wrong,” Supernova hissed, hovering closer to Morty.

“Never said that!”

“It's the galaxy's faith in the Vindicators that keeps the galaxy secure!”

“Yeah, I feel safer already,” Rick muttered sarcastically.

“No doubt. Who do we make the check out to?” I replied, meeting his gaze for a moment.

“Titty-Bean, listen to me. When you came to me, I was merely a sentient colony of ants. It was your beliefs, your pursuit of justice, that taught me to be a man,” Million Ants said soothingly, pulling her closer to him. We fell to the ground, sputtering for air as Supernova became distracted with Million Ants. Rick pulled me into his arms, desperately clinging to me for dear life as he patted my hair down.

“When did it get so complicated?” she asked mournfully, nuzzling into his hand.

“Who knows? But we can make it simple again.”

“You were always the romantic,” she remarked sadly before taking a step back from him, her eyes narrowed. “Which is why you can't leave either.” We watched in horror as she dug her hand into his chest and extracted his Queen Ant, crushing it in her palm. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Damn! She double-crossed Snuzzles!” Rick exclaimed, pulling away from me momentarily as she descended upon us.

“Silence! I'm going to enjoy this,” she hissed, raising her hands in front of her. As I buried my face into Rick’s chest, airhorns interrupted her attack as the platform finally reached its destination.

“Let's give a huge thanks to Rick Sanchez for killing Worldender, putting this awesome party together, and for booking one of the hottest talents out there: Logic!” an announcer called out and a spotlight descended upon us. Supernova lowered her hands, realizing the sheer volume of witnesses surrounding her.

“Look at that. Geez, I must've planned a whole party. Invited a bunch of people. Not bad, Drunk Rick, not bad,” Rick said, pulling himself to his feet before extending a hand out to me and pulling me to my feet. As Logic started a song about the Vindicators, Supernova slipped into the crowd, much to Morty’ dismay.

“Rick! Supernova’s getting away!” he shouted, pointing at the section she disappeared into.

“Oh well,” Rick shrugged, dancing along to the song.

“But… she was trying to kill us!” Morty retorted.

“Morty, twenty people try to kill me every week. I end up getting high with half of 'em,” Rick assured him flatly. “J-J-Just enjoy the festival, alright? I’ll worry about her later.”

It looked like just about everyone had gotten an invite as Beth, Summer, and Madi squeezed through the crowd over to us. I hugged Madi tightly before Summer pulled her into the crowd to introduce her to some of the friends she’d made adventuring with Rick.

“So, I’ll just assume nothing is going to happen to her here?” I asked Rick nervously, watching her hair bounced as Summer pulled her behind.

“Look, I invited Beth to this, she should be safe.” I narrowed my eyes at him, unconvinced but he just groaned, grabbing my hand. “Come on, let’s party.”

*+*

When we finally got home, the exhaustion from being in a life or death situation hit me like a truck. The moment I fell into my bed, I was out like a light. When I finally woke back up a day later, I was surprised to find Rick sprawled out next to me, sleeping peacefully with his arm draped over me. I carefully extracted myself from underneath him and made my way to the bathroom, desperate for a shower. As I opened my door, I found Morty headed in the same direction.

“O-O-Oh, hey Aunt Nova,” he mumbled, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. “W-Were going to take a shower?”

“Y-Yeah, but you go ahead. I waited this long, I can wait a little bit longer,” I assured him, moving to head back into my room.

“I-I-I heard what Rick said, in the Hawaii room,” he said quickly, grabbing my wrist. “I’m not saying I was wrong about him, but I get what you see in him, I guess. A-A-And, I guess how he feels about you too? He’s still a dick and piece of shit a-a-and you deserve better but-”

“It’s okay Morty, I understand,” I assured him quickly. He looked relieved, waving as he headed for the bathroom. I went back into my room to find Rick stirring, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he looked up at me.

“I was starting to think you were in a fucking coma, you know,” he yawned at me.

“I don’t know, something about almost dying just makes me really tired, not sure what that’s all about,” I shrugged sarcastically. “Speaking of which, we should probably talk about all of that.”

“Yeah, I get a little… dramatic when I drink. Sorry about that,” he groaned, standing up and stretching.

“Well, yeah. That was something else, but I’m talking about what happened when I got up on the platform,” I said cautiously, watching his face for a reaction.

“What about it? I don’t remember anything from that night? I probably just called you like, super pretty for five minutes,” he said defensively. “Did I say something fucked up? Morty was not happy with me after coming out of his.”

“N-No, not quite,” I chuckled. “No, it was more along the lines of you being worried I was going to leave you or whatever. You know that’s never going to happen, right? A lot of bad shit has happened since you’ve been back. I’ve been kidnapped, you killed my husband and maybe even my parents but you haven’t fucked up nearly as bad as you may think you have. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, I mean, if that Rick was going to come kidnap you then you would probably just be stuck living on the Citadel and hella fucking confused,” Rick argued awkwardly.

“So not the point,” I groaned, rolling my eyes at him. “Look, all I’m trying to say is you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Effectively, you’re stuck with me.”

“Are you okay? With everything that happened?” he asked hesitantly. “Being with me, it’s not a normal life and it never will be.”

“Rick, not to sound cliche but my life has literally never been normal. As long as you bring me home now and then so I can see Madi, I could literally care less. Just don’t leave me, okay?”

“Nova, I told you already, I don’t think that’s possible,” he assured me. “Even that twenty minutes I left you with the Vindicators and Morty was hell. I tried to get back as soon as I could but by the time I got back, you guys were gone.”

“Look, I get it. I’m not going to say it was okay because it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination but I get it,” I reasoned. “I was drunk and being a dick.”

“Welcome to the club, sweetheart,” Rick laughed, holding his flask up in solidarity. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Oh, I hope not. Putting my neck on the line all the time is half the fun of being with you.”

“I love you too, brat.”

+Ch4: Every You, Every Me+

[coral-station]

1: Fresh Start Station (Draft)

Agent 8 needed a new name. After everything she had gone through and despite all that she had gained, it wasn't without loss. Her arduous journey that started with her fateful encounter with a young squid she would come to know as Agent 3, propelled her through the darkest depths of the deep sea and - perhaps without her full understanding - culminated in the social liberation of her kind. Torrents of demanding feats and tests came at her one after the other as she was set in pursuit of Agent 3. The reasons and truths drew closer each step of the way and, Agent 8, surfaced alongside them. Agent 8, with help from a surprisingly crackpot team of Squid, Cuttlefish and Octopus had overcome a maniacal and ancient evil to, much like their composition, united societies and found a freedom deeper than the oceans they escaped from. What was lost however, was Agent 8 herself. 'Agent 8' was a nickname for convenience sake; her previous name, memories and life was left behind, torn off at the bottom of the sea. The only thing Agent 8 had left floating in her mind was the heavenly melody of the Calamari Inkantation, brought in by a rebellious tide that carried so much flotsam from a wreckage of life to be left behind.

"How about we just call you 8?" Said Pearl who, by this point, had become tired of thinking about the same thing for this long.

"No, Pearlie. It needs to have more meaning to it, you know" Marina looked over at me, warmly considering my feelings "You've gotta start fresh, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. I want to start re-establishing me again, somehow" Marina shot me a quick pose as I did my best to hide the pensive look that grew on my face.  

Pearl stood up from the lavish sofa, perhaps jumped off like a small child who sunk too far into the overly fluffy cushions would be a more accurate way to describe the small squid's movements. I watched as she trudges along the matching pink, fluffy rug that filled in the floor space from here on the sofa to most of the way to what was more window than wall. Sunlight broke through the thin cloud cover and warmed the large open-plan seating room so effortlessly in a way I never thought I would experience. I have a vague recollection of seeing the sun's rays break through the waves far above my head. Thinking of when I would have been in such shallow waters as to see the sun gave me a headache. While remembering specifics of my life from before is tough, I still recall clearly how cold and dank Octarian society was and, most of all, how profoundly deep down our lives were. This separation from the world above was stressed upon us no more clearly than in rare specs of light that penetrated our darkness, teasing us of what was up there - teasing us only if you still had a mind to think with of your own.

After concluding the events that had me fighting for the liberation of all Octolings from a society that was as oppressive as the ocean's pressure, I began to live with Pearl and Marina. This duo had assisted me under the guises of M.C. Princess and D.J. Hyper_Fresh respectively. Pearl was a shorter-than-most-squid who, despite living in luxury her whole life, was honest, tireless and as loyal as a barnacle. Marina, on the other hand, was actually an Octoling like me! Likewise, her life was changed when she first heard the Calamari Inkantation. Unlike me, she had managed to escape to the surface world and join the Inkling's society all by herself. When Pearl and Marina met, they had instantly bonded over their love of music and formed a band: Off the Hook. Off the Hook just as instantly became a hit and the two of them of are at the forefront of Inkling pop-culture, but I've come to know rather differently following their stint as my undercover saboteurs.

"But what you did was really something!" Pearl spun around from large pane of glass and beamed a smile as radiant as the summer afternoon. "I thought that continuing to call you 8 would carry some ... gravy" 

Marina and I surely shared the same dumbfounded look on our faces for a moment until Marina cracked the code. "Do you mean gravitas?"

"...What did I say?" Pearl then joined ranks and wore a similar confused expression. There was nothing to do but laugh about it.

"Thanks, Pearl. I just would rather start life here with a blank slate and fill it out myself from here on" I stretched out my legs and stood up, leaving what I imagined was the softest place on this earth. I had no real intention to go anywhere and just walk around idly, but as if catching me before I left forever Marina spoke up. 

"Are you still thinking of leaving soon, finding your own place?" Marina may well have held out her arm to grab me "I mean, I- uh, we, want to help you all we can. It's the least we can do"

It was clear Marina felt somehow indebt to me personally, owing to her also being an Octoling. The significance of it all was never lost on me. "I would love that" not being in a position to be as self-reliant as I want to be quite yet, I could only accept gratefully.  

It was the polite thing to do anyway, to oblige and let both Marina and Pearl express their gratitude - not that I feel deserving completely. Truthfully, the whole ordeal was such a whirlwind, I can hardly believe I was capable of doing something of the things I had to. They say in certain dire situations you find that your body is capable of unimaginable physical feats. I must have tapped into my primal instincts - do or die. It was a real rush! Living with Pearl and Marina in their stylish mansion far from the city - further from the sea - it was too quiet, relaxed and I was on edge. Even now I find it uncomfortable to sit still for too long. When I look out to or ponder around the well-kept garden, the smell of cut grass and trimmed hedges that soothes others only makes me almost uncontrollably agitated by the serenity of it all. My bedroom window towards the rear of the estate overlooks the garden's stone bird water feature, waking up to that sight in the morning irritates me. I cannot comprehend that thing. Marina often sits beside it watching the flesh and birds that congregate to sing, as if offering their songs for consideration to Marina as she works on her with her laptop and headphones. I think it’s supposed to be calming - at least that's what she says. "The sun's early morning warmth and sweet bird song are all I need to recharge my heart when I'm feeling down or burnt out" was her answer when I asked her once. Not that I meant to, the question just found its way from my head and out through my mouth to Marina. "Oh! And my Pearlie! Nothing else works quite like her when it comes to recharging my heart" she would add with a coy smile pressing one hand against her cheek.

I want to break the whole thing. Kick my legs out at it and flail my arms until one or the other breaks.

My head often fills with sudden impulses like that. Even when I see Pearl and Marina cosy-up with each other, all I can do is fake a smile and try not to wrest my tentacles from my mantle. Not that I have anything against them, my emotions just go from zero to one hundred with only enough time for me to pretend they don't exist. I've never acted out of turn though, I've managed to resist these compulsions for now. Though, when my mind isn't preoccupied with something else, or when I'm not kept busy, I'm constantly bombarded from the inside like this. It gets worse. This next bit is very tough for me, I don't want to admit it’s going on. I can hardly bring myself to believe it’s real. I'm haunted by a phantom. Not a phantom of the gloopy life form that inhabited the telephone, but of the train. When I close my eyes and silence is all I hear, the distant chug of the train rolls in from the darkness. The darkness itself soon bares arrival to the train's headlights. The long hallways of Pearl and Marina's grand design does nothing to abide this presence either. At night, I see the train pull past the far end of the hallways. The sleek finished double wooden doors around the house shift their state to better resemble the automatic doors of the deep-sea metro's carts when I'm on my own and no one else can see. The normal relationship of commuter and public transport has been spun on its head and the train awaits my arrival, with this house the station - or perhaps, more specifically, the destination. Trying to reconcile these thoughts cuts me deep to my core. I have no sense of previously established sense of self to draw from and explain my own thoughts logically thereby. Where there may once have been a 'me' is lost and replaced by the mess I am now. This new me that I am now has lost something far more integral to my being than the difference in the change of my surroundings. It is as though I left behind all my personal belongings on the station when I boarded the train, or left them on the train when I alighted the station. Which way around is it? I cannot possibly tell.

I let Pearl and Marina know I would be stepping out the rest of the day, to get some air and explore around. Pearl had some business in the city that evening and insisted I join her on her way down if I was going that direction. Since it would be no imposition on her driver to have me as an extra passenger, I took her up on her offer. A launch event for a line of Camp Triggerfish camping gear, clothes and various other sundries was being held at The Reef. Since Camp Triggerfish was owned by Pearl's family, it was her idea to hold a wild launch party with live performance from Off the Hook. In the end, she had to settle for much more tame press event purely for publicity sake. Canopies and expensive champagne would be the height of the festivities to encourage favourable write ups. While it may just be purely circumstantial, Pearl was certainly much more active and busier than her impression gives off, so this half-hour at most car journey would be the most time I've spent in her company just the two of us. It was a little hard to tell if Pearl felt as anxious about this as I was, but the thought of visit Inkopolis gave me an opportunity to act on one of my impulsive thoughts that a little awkwardness wouldn't be too hard to put up with. Thankfully, Pearl is just as surprisingly comfortable to be around.

"You know, my Dad has a few empty condos not too far the pad now that we could set you up in" Pearl could tell I had something on my mind and, as outlandish as her lifestyle is, her offer was completely genuine and considerate to me.

"Wow, thank you. Honestly. But I'll have to pass up on such an offer. Not that I want to reject all your generosity, I just had something smaller in mind. Something more quaint" Sitting next to Pearl on the leather seats, absentmindedly stroking the fabric upholstery in Pearl's chauffeur driven limousine it wasn't hard to imagine how it was possible that she just offer up a condo space for me so easily.  

At home Pearl is a little slobbish, unkempt and sometimes disastrous when it comes to household chores, but here in the car's atmosphere she cuts a much more refined figure. It was as though she could flip a literal switch that turned her from an unruly child to a sophisticated and responsible adult. I was about to ask after her father's work when she leaned over to the window on my side and redirected my attention. "Check it! The ocean. It's for real mad, yo!"  

Without time to breakdown what she was saying, I looked outside to see the cliffs break to reveal the ocean that expanded across the horizon. "Mad" I found myself repeating. The sight was gorgeous. The ocean could be seen from Pearl's place but the cliff edges were a little further on so the view was always a little oblique. I had yet to return to Inkopolis since moving in with Pearl and Marina so this was an entirely new vista for me. The sun reflected so large on the ocean with waves' ripples further imposing its size. To the east the tall skyscrapers of Inkopolis also made their presence on the ocean's surface known too by cast an equally impressive reflection. Driving down from the hillside also brought into view the harbour opposite the mainland of Inkopolis. It was this harbour from which we bested Tar-Tar and the weaponised statue. The partially recognisable head of the statue that remained mostly sunken beneath the ocean would soon come into view, and so too would the memories of the fight. The sky rails. The bombs from the helicopter. Pearl's heroic roar. The throbbing of my hearts.

"You can see it, yeah, the head?" Pearl broke the silence and my intense stare relaxed, but my eyes still remained fixed.

"I wonder if anyone else really know what happened" I took a deep breath then breathed out. Pearl sat back in her seat contemplating how to answer. No, was the obvious answer, but I think my question had an extra layer to it that we both knew to be there, hidden underneath.

"Perhaps someone else saw it. Perhaps a few. It was such a big to-do and we got so caught up in focusing on what we had to do that we could have had a large cheering crowd before us and we didn't notice"

"It wouldn't have been at all like you to miss out on a chance to put on a show for them" I surprised myself by saying something like that so casually.

"Hey! What do you think my scream was for? I can only hope they boo-yah'd back!" Pearl and I shared a good chuckle.

Spending time with Pearl on the car journey into Inkopolis was a lot more rewarding than I imagined. I actually felt somewhat embarrassed being so initially pensive, but I think Pearl understands me a whole lot more than she lets on. Soon the car drove through the harbour and across the long bridge over the ocean into Inkopolis proper. Showing further her ability to intuit me, or at least the mood, Pearl instructed the driver to stop the car and let me out after we finished our cresting the bridge. I thanked Pearl for bringing and for the pleasant journey. It was probably unnecessary to say that second part out loud, my mouth had gotten the better of me. Pearl shrugged it and, before closing the door and zooming off to prepare for her event this evening, she gave made me one more offer.

"The thing at the Reef tonight, come to it if you want. Sorry I didn't remember to invite you sooner. Just say you're on the guest list!" She closed the door and waved to me from inside the window, at some point she managed to put on a pair of dark sunglasses without me noticing. Pearl rode off without telling me a specific time for the launch party and smile played its way on my face. That was more along the lines of what I expected from Pearl. Nonetheless, I was now in Inkopolis. I felt empowered. I felt like was finally taking my own lead again. But my mind soon grew blank. Where was I going? No, that's not quite right. I knew where I wanted to go, I'm just hesitating. There was only one place I felt drawn. I had to shift the balance, put it right again. I had to go to underground, back to the deep-sea Metro.  

[rjlupinisms]

❝ i wish i could say that i am a LIGHT that never goes out,                   but i flicker from time to time. ❞

was that really REMUS LUPIN? it’s been a long time since that HALFBLOOD ( WEREWOLF ) wore the GRYFFINDOR colours around the halls of hogwarts. i suppose the whispers of muggle borns swearing they saw JESSE WILLIAMS were about them, which does make more sense. so tell me, is it true HE/THEY ( DEMIBOY ) works as a STAY AT HOME FATHER? i suppose there’s no better way to make the most of their UNDERSTANDING and SELF-LOATHING nature. funny how time flies, i remember our first day and hogwarts and now they’re FOURTY years old.

i’m jinx, i also play hannah abbott i’m DETERMINED to make this shorter!! i am!! but i’ll start with some of a bio i have then ramble from there. edit: this is not shorter. houston we have a problem! i fucked up! this is ted talk number two! my grammar ( caps and no caps is also a mess because i’m too tired to adapt to either ) is a mess.

The story of Remus Lupin is one known by many people – his friends, his family, but what people don’t know is what’s in between the cracks. The man in the monster, the boy who he was and the person he’s grown up to be.

There was a time when Remus felt more boy than burden, though he can hardly remember it now and his family cannot either, there was a time. The Lupins were a happy family, they had moderate means, they weren’t the highest class in Wizarding Society but they weren’t the lowest and they made up for that in love – as cliche as it might sound. Remus had one foot in the muggle world, and loved it, Hope would take him on adventures ( having been an adventurer herself ), teaching him about feminism & muggle politics but be back in time to make dinner for when Lyall came back from work. For five years, that’s how it went, an easy, happy cycle that Remus grew up knowing as home. It was home, and his parents were so in love that Remus could only sit back to admire their own admiration for each other. They thought that they’d go on like this until Remus was in Hogwarts, and they’d talk about it for hours on end.

The night Remus was attacked was the night everything turned upside down. Remus’ life might’ve been saved, but ever since then he’s wondered: was it worth it? Was he worth it?

The guilt that Lyall felt propelled him to forget about what his family actually needed and instead, what he needed to forgive himself for what he had done to his son. It was then Remus knew he would have to take care of his family just as much as they would now have to take care of him. No matter how many days of the month would be normal, little Remus would wake up after that full moon torn apart, hurting, crying, confused, and the guilt that he felt was something he could only learn from his father. Hope, like her name, tried to keep the family alive and normal but Lyall refused to let things go back to normal until his son was back to normal. The truth was, even if there was cure, Remus John Lupin was irreversibly changed – there was a whole part of the Wizarding World he came to know at a young age that was not magical in a positive way. Sometimes, Remus still thinks ignorance might’ve been bliss, or maybe if they had put him down like the animal he was his family would’ve learned to move on but his father never did. Lyall could also never accept that Remus was what he was and would continue to be that. The Lupins, a once beautiful household with a life like clockwork were broken – and Remus knew it was all his fault.

Hogwarts, while a nice reprieve, gave Remus a sense of fear and he was determined, absolutely determined to keep to himself. He would not be an affliction onto other children, he would not burden them, he would not form relationships only for them to be embarrassed & repulsed by what he was. But he didn’t seem to have a choice – James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew chose him and never let him go. His brothers, his family, his soulmates, he never knew he’d be able to feel such love for other people who weren’t blood. It was with that love that he got that he started to return, it was then people found that Remus had a sense of humor but an even greater capacity to love – everyone but himself. When his best friends became animagi for him, he cried, he cried because he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to be so alone. That people cared enough about him to do also transform themselves into animals so they could be with him. To this day he doesn’t understand it & is convinced he never will, but it doesn’t make him any less grateful. Without them, he knew he’d be much more miserable than he was, without them, he feared he’d be nothing but a problem his father made him out to be. That he’d be nothing but a monster. They, along with friends he made, were his humanity and it’s why in the first war Remus was ready to do whatever it takes to win because he couldn’t lose them. He’ll lose himself, his mind, his soul, before he loses the people he cares about.

But we all know how that turned out. So I’ll skip ahead for now because I don’t need to detail the pain, suffering, blame, isolation, etc. that Remus went through in the aftermath of the first war!! I really don’t!! Especially because his mother died RIGHT after it ended!! 

Finding out Peter had betrayed him and his friends.... i know i’ve said remus lupin is an emotional, soft pisces, but that RAGE. he really would’ve killed his ass! he would’ve!! on this blog it says 1/3 of the marauders because fuck peter pettigrew as far as remus is concerned!! 

remus’ BIGGEST fucking fault and negative trait is how much he loathes himself. it gets in the way of EVERYTHING. his own self hatred oftentimes clouds his judgement to who he really is. He is funny, his is intelligent, he is caring, he is loyal, but all he sees is that he is more of a burden than a man, that he is wasting everyone’s time when he transforms, that they should leave him be. He sees himself as the extra fat that needs to be cut off meat, he sees himself as an affliction to others and there are no kind words that stop him from feeling that way. Remus gets a reminder once month that this is all true, but with therapy that he’s been in the last two years, he’s really been working towards discovering who he is aside from who he’s told himself he is. questions about his gender have come up as well, he often wonders if him identifying as nonbinary/a demiboy is because he sees himself as half a human or because he truly feels detached from his gender in a way as well as feels he doesn’t quite always fit it. plot twist you asshole, it’s the second! see why i put him in therapy!

i think when remus was exposed as a werewolf .... it freed him in some ways. there was a certain amount of hiding he was doing, that he didn’t have to do any more. like, listen, he’s already a black human in this society, he’s not straight either, so of course his whole life he didn’t want ANOTHER thing to differentiate him out in the public, but. he’s always been really sarcastic, funny, if you get to know him -- he doesn’t hold back his thoughts either. his thoughts about himself, yes, but his overall thoughts -- no. he was mad and he felt like he had to leave, but that didn’t stop his ass from being a presence in his students lives. the first thing he did after he resigned was get a twitter and subtweet the shit out of the hogwarts administration & the ministry ( did they see it??? who knows ). not his fellow professors but uh, i’ll just say it, lucius malfoy and co.! he used it as a platform to rant, to educate and educate himself. lbr, he had a lot of time on his hands! so yes, he did offer tutoring services and still does to this day. but also, he gets into dumbass twitter fights it’s pretty funny imo. i can truly imagine him going to sirius asking for some advice on what to say to some of these assholes. also him and sirius visiting graves together! they had to make up time w/ each other somehow! bonding! please bring me the only marauder still ( maybe ) alive, i need it. 

the second war was difficult in a completely different way to remus -- the guilt he had over getting tonks pregnant, the guilt he had for being in love in a time of war, the selfishness he felt, aided to the reckless nature of his missions. he’d already let down harry for years by not being there, letting him be with the dursley’s, he felt the potter’s didn’t make him godfather because they’d thought he’d be an incompentent father figure ( newflash asshole, they loved you and didn’t think that at all ! ). he did everything to prepare that he could, and when teddy was born --- it redefined the meaning to live. to fight for something. he needed to make this world a better place for teddy, desperately. i wouldn’t say he got his shit together completely, but he stopped being as much as a fucking shit head because he didn’t matter anymore & he didn’t mean that in a self loathing way for once! teddy and tonks did. he meant it in a life has so much more meaning bigger than me way! which, wow, FINALLY, because the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you hate about yourself, remus! took this asshole like 38 years, but he got there!!

there’s no one he loves more in this world more than tonks and teddy. i could go on, but, the longer he’s alive, the more time goes on, he is even more grateful for them. he didn’t know if he’d find a family or love after the first war, after losing lily & james, sirius, peter, the other order members, everything felt lost & without meaning. his existence without meaning. but being a husband & a father redefined his world like never before. he’s proud to be a stay at home father, he’s proud to dedicate all his time to his child while tonks goes out and kicks ass. he’s proud to bake, cook, clean, tend to the house, go out to coffee with other parents, facilitate playdates.  it’s probably the happiest he’s been in his life. does he still face discrimination? of course. but Petty, Sassy & Sarcastic Remus Lupin deals with it with stride, quips, and laughter. the occasional prank. it doesn’t feel as much like additional ammo that he’ll later use against himself. just people being dickheads! 

loves to reach out to former students, order members, dumbledore’s army members. always tells them him and tonks’ home is open to them. he’s getting to a place in his life where i think he’s becoming more and more open about being a werewolf, raising awareness, speaking, talking. erasing stigma, he’s trying SO HARD, because he knows he’s not alone. he’s always had that drive to educate people, to just let them know whats up? he was truly a fantastic fucking professor, often he misses that job, but he wouldn’t go back. he’s teaching on his own terms, living on them as well. he’s had to unpack a lot of the ..... debt he felt towards dumbledore and realize a lot of the idealization he felt towards him was probably not the best. dumbledore was another shady ass white man, he wasn’t just a savior, he was a lot more dark and complex than remus gave him credit for.

i know this seems too meta, but at this point, i imagine remus and hannah share baking tips, because hannah can’t bake edibles to save her life -- but remus? remus can. he was the world’s worst drug dealer in his youth, but weed helped him sooooo much after and before transformations. he’s lucky to now have wolfsbane along with this resource. but, yeah, you’ll catch hannah and remus having tea as well as hannah offering to babysit so some of her favorite people can have a night out. 

if harry names his damn kid fucking albus severus in this verse, remus will actually throw hands, js. like...RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS SALAD @ HARRY AND GINNY?? 

aight i’m gonna stop here because this is Extra™ but thank you for coming to BOTH of my ted talks and reading this!! if you’d like to plot, please like this, and i’ll come to you!! 

[missgeek83]

A Guinness in Galway

TITLE:  A Guinness in Galway AUTHOR: @missgeek83 RATING: NC-17 SUBJECT: Ed Sheeran AUTHOR’S NOTE: Old friends go out for a drink, and maybe a little more. This is my first foray back into the fanfic world. *nervous laugh* Be kind? <3

The bartender handed me my glass and the last lights of day glittered off the sides. The sun was still warm on my back, but it couldn’t compete with the flush I felt when I looked over and caught his eyes. It took barely a second to get lost in them, and I wasn’t even concerned with how my face must’ve looked until I shifted my glass and a beam of light caused him to squint in pain.

“Aye, watch where you’re pointin’ that,” he said with a small laugh.

Oh, shit. I shifted the glass back. “Shit, sorry.”

He was laughing as the bartender handed him his beer, giving the guy a nod as he sat back down.

“They should be here soon, they said they were close...” I rushed my words, trying to pretend I was still casual. (I wasn’t.)

“They’ll be another hour then, yea? Knowing that lot.”

“Well, I mean you’re not wrong.”

A few beats pass and then my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I pull it out, raising my eyebrow knowingly at him. I read the message, and laugh.

“Christine says they’re trying to find a parking spot. Soooo, give or take about 15 minutes.”

“Enough time for another drink,” he says with a grin.

The group files in about 8 minutes later, filling the bar with the sound of their feet and laughter. As they all settle at the bar next to us, the whole place seems to come alive. The noise level rises just enough that I don’t feel like I have to fill in the spaces between sentences, which is good because to speak to other people down the bar Ed is having to lean over me and I am absolutely distracted. Christine, who sat to my right, is laughing into her drink when my brain comes back into focus. I shoot her a warning glare.

“What?!” She tries to act innocent. “I heard something funny.”

“You’re gonna see something funny in a second,” I mumble, tipping the last of my drink back.

She starts to speak, but Ed sits down at that moment and asks if I want another drink.

“Uh, well if I’m gonna drive later maybe not?”

He smiles at me for a brief second before waving down the bartender.

“Aye, mate, can we get two doubles?”

“Wait - oh, no, yea ok you’re already gone.” I give Ed an exasperated look. He grins and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

Hours later, we all start to disperse, heading to our cars to figure out who’s going home and who’s going for more drinks. Being one of the lightweights, I’m debating on just calling it a night. Christine is headed with her friend-but-not-quite-boyfriend to a bar down the street, and she wants me to go with. I look behind me, trying to see if Ed is leaving or staying. He’s next to a friends car, but soon gives them a salute and turns toward us.

“Coming to Smithe’s?” Christine asks him, looping her arm through mine and giving me a little tug.

“Might as well.”

“Great!” She smiles and lets me go to catch up with Jon, who is already walking out of the parking lot toward the next destination.

I sigh, then laugh. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

“Probably,” Ed says, putting his arm where hers had been and hauling me with him through the parking lot.

We’re both laughing when we catch up to Christine and Jon at the front door of the bar. We wait to be seated, Eds hand coming to rest lightly at the small of my back. Telling myself it’s just the alcohol, I try to ignore the chill that goes straight up to my brain as we’re ushered inside. The booth they sit us in is like its own little island, nestled away in the darkest corner of the bar. I’m suddenly very aware of how tipsy I am as we all slide in behind the round table; first Jon, then Christine, then me, then Ed last. We all chit chat idly and skim the drink menu until a waiter comes to get our orders. Everyone gets a water, and a drink, and we order the biggest appetizer sampler, hoping to soak up some of the alcohol for the drive home. Once the waiter is gone, Christine announces she has to pee, and after giving me a look, I remember that I, uh, have to pee, too.

We barely make it in the bathroom door before she starts.

“So, who drove?” she asks from her stall. "I did," I reply, staring at myself in the mirror to make sure I don't look as drunk as I feel. "Mmmhmmmmm..." She trails off.

"Once the food settles I'll be fine to drive us home, and he has a thing tomorrow anyway." "A thing for you," I hear her mutter as she fusses with the toilet paper. "Stop that, he doesn't think of me that way."

I'm messing with my hair and watch my own face drop in sadness. All the years we've been friends, never once had I thought Ed saw past the gangly blonde girl who ruffled his ginger hair everyday in middle school. We'd both been outcasts, brought together by our love of music and stuff that everybody else hated, but he'd never shown a romantic interest in me. Most days I was ok with that, because for the longest time I hadn't seen him like that myself. It wasn't until the summer he went away for a music thing and came back all...grown up, that I'd started looking at him differently. He grew his hair out, got a couple tattoos, and suddenly he was this irresistable, unattainable person that I had never really seen before. Maybe it was the months he was gone, maybe it was the change in appearance, or maybe it was just something in the air, but in the two years since I hadn't been able to convince myself he was the same kid. I notice Christine has been talking while my brain has been elsewhere. "...maybe if you did that he would open up." "What? Sorry, I wasn't listening." "What else is new?" She exits her stall and rolls her eyes at me. "I try to impart my wisdowm and knowledge on you and you don't even hear me. No wisdom for you!" We laugh as she tosses her paper towel in the trash and make our way back to our table. The guys are having what I can only assume is an awkward attempt at conversation when we get back because Ed has the most relieved face I've ever seen on a person as we sit down. "That was the most painful five minutes of my life," he mutters to me as I reach for my drink. His is already dangerously low. I snicker and take a sip. "Next time, I'll make her go by herself, I promise." He smiles at that and shakes his head. He reaches for a cheese stick and offers it to me, wiggling it in my face. I reach for it, only to have him pop it in his mouth. "Rude!" I squeal, laughing. The rest of the food goes quickly, and after our drinks are done, I notice Christine giving signs that her night needs to be finished elsewhere. Jon nods at her and they rise from the table. "Alrighty guys, well we had fun! Jon's got work in the morning so I think we're gonna head out." Ed and I get up and hug her goodbye, Jon gets a solid handshake and a big-brother-type threat from him, I get a wink from her, and they're gone. Now it's just Ed and I at the table, nursing the last of our drinks in silence. "So, you...want me to take you home after this?" I ask him, pushing my empty glass aside and reaching for my water. "Uh, yea, got that interview tomorrow so..." I nod. My head is still a bit more spin-y that I'd like, but I know he's had way more than me so I pray to the water gods that I'm sober in the next 10 minutes. Suddenly my right cheek burns hot, and I glance over to find him staring at me. When my eyes meet his he doesn't look away, only holds the gaze and the left side of his mouth tips up into a grin. I give him a puzzled half smile back, unable to look away. My heart pounds away beneath my ribs and I feel my head start to fall forward. His does too. In slow-mo, my eyes drop from his as I watch his lips inch closer to mine, and I feel for a second like I'm outside my own body. I think for sure he's going to pull away, because this couldn't possibly be his intention. My vodka-adled brain is making things up and I'm about to make myself look incredibly stupid...until it happens. His lips brush mine and I instantly melt into him. I'm warm all over and my heart is rattling around my chest at an impressive speed. He presses his lips firmly against mine a second time, and I feel his hand come up to rest against my chin. He tilts it upward, catching my mouth again and again and I can't breathe. Breathing feels secondary to making sure my face stays connected to his. Then I'm drowning; in his lips, in his warmth, in the taste of him...I'm a goner. Then it's over. He pulls his face back and I feel a whimper escape my lungs at the broken connection. When I snap back to reality and open my eyes, he's smiling at me with a soft look in his eyes. His hand is still on my face, his thumb rubbing over my jaw line lightly. I stare back in shock, slowly coming out of my haze and suddenly petrified with fear. He notices the change in my face and speaks first. "Hey, you ok?" "Y-yea...I..." Words don't make sense and I can't think of enough of them to describe a single thing I'm feeling. His fingers are still carressing my face. "Is it ok...that I did that?" He seems apprehensive now, like he's scared I didn't want him to kiss me. "No, no! I mean, yes it was ok. More than ok..." I trail off and bring my eyes back up to meet his. The worry fades and his smile returns. I have to be grinning like an idiot by now but I'm trying to savor every second so who cares? I'm still trying to form more than a few words at a time when the hand on my chin slides back behind my ear and brings our heads together again. The synapses in my brain are exploding like fireworks inside my skull as I fall into his chest and my nose catches his cologne on an intake of breath. He smells woodsy, like sandalwood, but also sweet, and a little bit like Guinness. The slow burn that started in my head after the first kiss is spreading like wildfire throughout my entire system. Even though most of the alcohol has left me it's still propelling my actions forward at what I realize is an alarming rate as I snake my hand up his chest and toward the zipper of his hoodie. I stop myself and pull away from him, as much as I hate the idea. We're both slightly out of breath, and his lips are a lovely shade of red, with just a touch of pink from my lipstick. He looks confused. “I...We should probably...” Eventually my vocabulary will return to me, I'm sure, but it's really causing issues currently. “Somewhere else?” “My place?” he asks, raising his eyebrow with a smirk. I nod and fumble behind me for my purse. He's already sliding out of the booth and tossing some cash on the table as I unlatch my car keys and stand up. I take a deep breath, because despite the lovely feeling rushing over me I'm also scared as hell by what may or may not be about to happen. As I'm gathering myself together I see his hand pop out in front of me. I look at him, then take it, and internally squeal when his fingers lace through mine. He leads me from the bar back to my car and waits as I unlock the doors. It's cold out, and I'm thankful for the heater as I crank it and drive off toward Ed's apartment. We don't speak, but the bluetooth plays songs from my phone quietly in the background, helping keep my mind from wandering too far in the wrong direction. When we pull up in front of his building a few minutes later, I get a chill of anticipation...and possibly a little apprehension. He takes my hand again when we meet in front of the car and walks me to the elevator. His complex is by far the nicest in the county, maybe the whole state, and makes my rental look like a total dump. Except that right inside the front door you can immediately tell it's lived in by a man because there are clothes thrown over the couch and cups in single file in front of the sink. He doesn't bother turning on the living room light, just kicks his shoes off and throws down his keys. Dorito (one of his two feline companions) looks up lazily from the moonlight streaming through the window she's laying in and gives a soft meow. I wiggle a finger at her and from behind me I hear Ed laugh. “What?” I say, a smile playing on my lips. “Don't be pointin' fingers at my pussy,” he jokes. I roll my eyes, but realize he probably can't see it. He slides a hand behind me and lightly pushes me toward the stairs. I step out of my shoes and follow him to the second floor. I've been to his place a million times, slept on his floor, his couch, a couple times even his bed – but never like this. Only in my wildest (to the letter) dreams had I ever walked toward that room with this same feeling. I watch my toes indent the carpet in the hallway as he stops ahead of me to open the bedroom door. There's a pause. “I won't bite,” he says, softer than I've ever heard. His soothing voice convinces me to go inside, and I walk in, resting on the side of the bed I know he doesn't sleep on. He flips on the two bedside lamps from the wall and closes the door behind him. He takes his jacket off and tosses it into the chair in the far corner of the room before crawling onto the bed himself. He scoots to the middle, leans against the headboard, and motions for me to join him. I do, and he wraps me up in his arms as I rest my head under his chin. “We don't have to go any farther, if you don't want,” he whispers to me, fingers slowly working through my hair. I don't say anything. Honestly I don't know if I want to go further. We've already thrown “friends” out the window, I don't really want to risk the rest of the night going badly trying to get to whatever is next. As I try to think of what to say, he starts to sing softly, something I've never heard before. “Dancing in the dark...with you between my arms...barefoot on the grass...” He trails off into a hum, obviously not having found the next line yet. His voice is smooth and sweet, and I never tire of listening to him sing. He sounds so much more British when he sings, his lilt making each word bend and sway like reeds in the wind. He sings me to sleep, which was not exactly my intention, but after all the liqour and the excitement of the night, my brain is exhausted. I wake up the next day, the late morning sun filtering in just above my head. I stretch, yawning as I rub my eyes and open them to find...myself alone in a room that is not my own. It takes a few seconds for the night to play back in my head and I laugh a little to myself, half embarrassed and half regretful that the night had ended with me passing out like a child. I hear some clanging from downstairs and am relieved to know he's still here. I'm still wearing everything except my jacket, and I opt to leave it as I shuffle sleepily downstairs. All the blinds in the kitchen are up, and Ed is at the stove, shirtless and in his sweats, making what looks to be eggs. He turns to grab a plate and the sun bounces off his hair, a small flame atop his porcelain skin. He's singing to himself, and I smile, reaching the last step without being seen.

“Careful,” I say in a groggy voice. He turns to look at me. “That's what got me in trouble last night.” He laughs, tossing the eggs and some toast onto the plate and laying it on the bar behind him. “Yea, you were proper tired, ay? After all that and I get snoring as a reward...” He shakes his head in a 'tsk-tsk' way as I sit in front of the plate and scoff. “Maybe your charms need a little more umph to them,” I tease. He rounds the bar and grabs me suddenly, placing his lips against the side of my neck. My eyes flutter closed as he butterfly kisses up toward my ear and then pulls away. “O-or, ya know...not.” “No?” His eyes are mischievous, and also a little arrogant. The bastard. “Water?” I request, clearing my throat to pretend like he hadn't gotten to me. “Say please.” More kisses to the neck, this time crossing my collarbone. “Please?” It comes out as a gasp, airy and hardly a solid word, but it's all I can manage. It's too early for my brain to process any of this and I have no hope of winning this battle. Despite my weakened plea, he continues to kiss across my neck, then up my face, everywhere but my lips. The flame licks at me, reignited from the night before, and my hands slide into his hair. I use it to pull his face up enough for my mouth to find his, and the sensation is enough to blow my scalp clean off. He takes like orange juice, and my hands grasp at his shoulders to pull him closer because the space bewteen us is too much. He steps between my knees, bumping the stool I'm sitting on, and I feel him pressing against my stomach as he tries to right us. The feeling breaks what little control I have over my brain and when our lips separate I can't help the moan that escapes me. I see his eyes roll up, he blinks, then he hefts me up onto the bar. The plate clatters to the floor, but it doesn't stop us. Using my toes, I push the sides of his sweat pants down and after a second they fall to the floor. He's not wearing anything underneath and his erection bounces freely in front of me. He doesn't seem detered by his sudden nudity and tugs at my jeans. I hurry to unbutton them and get them off without being too awkward. The granite bar is cold under me, but every inch of me is on fire. His right hand grips the back of my head and his lips are back on mine. He scoots me to the end of the counter and I wrap my legs around his waist. In time with our kisses, I rotate my hips and rub myself against him. He drops his head to my shoulder for a second and pushes back against me. I see his hand reach to my side, to a black bowl, and bring back a black square. He lifts his head and carefully tears the side off the condom wrapper. There's a small tremor that runs through me, because this is about to happen, this is real. He's rolling the condom on when I snap back, and he looks up at me expectantly. I nod, my chest heaving, and he runs a finger along the top of my underwear. He helps me shove them off and then he spins me around, so he can lay me back on the bar. I use a balled up shirt to put under my head and feel him press the tip against my opening. I take in a big breath, holding it as the pressure subsides and he's completely inside. I can't take the separation anymore and sit up, wrapping my legs around him again and he presses a kiss to my breast. He starts slowly at first, and my eyes meet his. He's entranced, his face full of awe, and I can't look away. I fight back the feeling in my throat, the tears coming to my eyes, knowing that I'd wanted exactly this for the longest time. It spurs me on, and I meet each of his thrusts in earnest. He's breaking a sweat, the sun reflecting off his freckled shoulders. I bite my lip and he closes his eyes.

“I'm close,” he whispers. He can tell I'm not quite there yet, so he reaches between us and uses his thumb to find my clit. I inhale sharply and I see him grin. After a couple seconds I can feel it coming. I moan loudly and I can tell he's done when his face pinches and his thrusts slow. Shortly after I feel the same explosion and everything is white for a second. As my vision clears I feel him holding me, panting heavily against my shoulder. I cradle the back of his head with both hands, mostly trying to steady myself from the last of the tremors coursing through me. It takes a minute or two for our breathing to return to normal, and when it does he slips out of me and discards the condom. I meekly look around for a towel, and snag a few napkins from the far end of the bar. He chuckles. “So...shower?” He extends a hand toward me, his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. I nod and reach out to him, sliding off the bar onto the floor. My legs wobble beneath me and he quickly puts an arm around me to steady me.

“Damn, thanks...” I say, giggling. He stops and picks me up, carrying me back upstairs. He's careful not to hit my head as we re-enter the bedroom and then the bathroom. He sets me down and goes to turn on the shower. I watch him pull a couple fresh towels from the cupboard, turn around and test the water temperature, then nod for me to get in. He pulls the curatin closed behind us and hands me a bottle. It's my favorite body wash, most likely left here long ago, after a night similar to last night. Except without the kissing and, uh, everything else. I use a spare loofah and start to soap my arms. He does the same, and I catch him looking at me from the corner of my eye.  He doesn't look away, just raises his eyebrows sexually. I laugh and duck my head, stepping into the stream of water. “That's exactly how we got into this mess, you and those eyes.” “Sooo, are you saying you don't wanna be in my mess?” He pretends to be hurt. “Oh, quite the opposite...couldn't you tell from my extreme enthusiasm downstairs?” “I maybe got an idea.” He wraps his soapy arms around my waist and kisses me, so very slowly. But only for a second, then he rests his forehead against mine.  “Are you gonna be my lady?” My heart drops. Straight through the floor, down, down, down. Everything I've longed for is right here. “Is that what you want?” I ask, voice hitching. “Is that what YOU want?” I raise my eyes to meet his. “It's everything I want.” My voice is barely a whisper. “Then that's what you'll have,” he says, and it sounds like a promise. Like a contract we both signed with the kiss he places on my forehead afterward. I don't notice them at first because of the shower over head, but soon I realize I'm crying. Not long after I'm gasping for breath, and he holds me tighter. “Shh,” he whispers, slowly rocking us side to side. He hums a familiar song, the first song we bonded over as kids, and it brings my tears to a stop. “Come on, let's rinse off. Then we'll have a proper breakfast, yea?” I nod, and he kisses me before stepping into the spray to wash off. After breakfast, we snuggle in bed and watch whatever is on the last channel his TV landed on. He twirls my still-damp hair between his index and middle finger absentmindedly. My phone goes off, several texts in a row, on the bedside table behind me and I know immediately who it is. “That'll be Christine, looking for a story,” I say as I reach for it. Whithout looking away from the screen, Ed laughs. “Well, this should be a good one.” “WAKE UP!” “I know you're awake. And you're not at home.” “WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!” “At Ed's. Spent the night. EVERYTHING happened. Literally. Lunch later?” I see the elipses at the bottom of the screen immediately. “WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT?!?!?!?!?! LUNCH?! I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG.” Laughing, I put the phone down and lay my head back down on Ed's chest.

“She wants to meet up and hear all about it.” “I'm sure she does.” He looks at his watch. “I've gotta be out in a couple hours, if you wanna pop off.” “She can wait. I'm not done here.” I snuggle as close to him as I can, and close my eyes when I feel him kiss the top of my head. Yea...she can wait. After this long, I deserve to stay here as long as I can. ---------- Masterlist here. 

[placetobenation]

Let the Road to WrestleMania officially begin my friends! Yes, Royal Rumble weekend is here and that kicks off the road to Tampa.

Last year, the road to Tampa was highjacked by the COVID-19 pandemic. So, instead of 60,000+ fans jamming Raymond James Stadium, we got an historic two-night event from the Performance Center in Orlando. Now, with the coronavirus still part of our everyday life almost one year later, WrestleMania 37 will take place at Raymond James Stadium April 10th and 11th where an expected crowd of about 20,000 fans should be in attendance. No official word yet from the WWE who is waiting to see how the Super Bowl in Tampa goes on February 7th with about 22,000 fans.

It will be nice to fans back live in that capacity after months of the WWE ThunderDome in Orlando and Tampa. There’s no substitute for live on-site interaction although I give the WWE kudos for doing the best of a bad situation. So, Sunday night, when we get a men’s and women’s winner in the 34th Royal Rumble, we’ll get our first two official matches for WrestleMania 37. Now, since we are still in the ThunderDome Era, there won’t be the huge gasp like last year’s crowd in Phoenix when Edge returned after a nine-year absence, but the Rated R Superstar is back from his torn triceps for his first appearance since the “Greatest Wrestling Match Ever” at Backlash. You have to wonder if there’s a Seth Rollins or Becky Lynch return as well. How about Braun Strowman or Brock Lesnar? Maybe John Cena will show up to set up a WrestleMania appearance. There’s always one, right? I would also expect plenty of NXT entrants as well. To me, Rhea Rhipley makes a ton of sense as does Kayden Carter & Kacy Catanzaro on the women’s side and Damian Priest for the men.

I would love to see the WWE throw a huge curveball into the mix as well. Have Roman Reigns wield his power as the head of the table and somehow force Adam Pearce to make him an entrant into the Rumble. Then, of course, he wins, setting up a monstrous unification title match for the final match of WrestleMania 37 against either Drew McIntyre or Goldberg or whomever holds the title at the time. He says he’s the face of the WWE and that would definitely be a way for Reigns to prove it! But, alas, we know that’s not going to happen. So, let’s get to our picks.

Predictions:

WWE Championship Match: Drew McIntyre vs. Goldberg: Drew McIntyre retains title

Universal Championship Last Man Standing Match: Roman Reigns vs. Kevin Owens: Roman Reigns retains title

WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship Match: Charlotte Flair & Asuka vs. Shayna Baszler & Nia Jax: Nia Jax & Shayna Baszler win titles

SmackDown Women’s Championship Match: Sasha Banks vs. Carmella: Sasha Banks retains title

Men’s Royal Rumble Match: Edge

Women’s Royal Rumble Match: Bianca Belair

RAW

RESULTS

Charlotte Flair vs. Shayna Baszler ends in no-contest

Shayna Baszler, Nia Jax & Lacey Evans defeated Charlotte Flair, Mandy Rose & Dana Brooke after restart

Xavier Woods defeated SLAPJACK

Sheamus defeated John Morrison

2-on-1 Handicap Match: The Miz & John Morrison defeated Sheamus

Non-Title 24/7 Match: AJ Styles defeated R-Truth

Gauntlet Match: Riddle defeated Shelton Benjamin, MVP and Cedric Alexander to earn US Championship Match

RAW Women’s Championship Match: Asuka vs. Alexa Bliss ends in no-contest

To say that RAW was a hot mess this week is an understatement.

OH MY!

#WWERaw @AlexaBliss_WWE @RandyOrton pic.twitter.com/ClNkcxo2KC

— WWE (@WWE) January 26, 2021

Sure, there were some bright spots with Edge declaring his spot in the Royal Rumble. Without a crowd, it makes sense to not make it a surprise like last year. Alexa Bliss vs. Asuka was another chilling story with Randy Orton returning to RKO Little Miss Bliss to end the RAW Women’s Championship Match. But, honestly, that’s where it ends.

First off, the night begins and ends in the ring with a couple of no-contests. First, Charlotte Flair vs. Shayna Baszler goes nowhere before Nia Jax interferes and we get a six-woman tag team match that has to be restarted by Adam Pearce due to a count-out that shouldn’t have been. Then, of course, the main event ends with no winner with Orton’s involvement. Shouldn’t Bliss be the winner by DQ at least for getting RKO’d?

Smile for the camera @SuperKingofBros

#WWERaw #THB pic.twitter.com/bFwKNVAWfK

— Bobby Lashley (@fightbobby) January 26, 2021

I don’t know if it’s COVID-19 or just simple laziness, but again this week, we get the multiple matches for many talents. We’ve already talked about the 3 matches for the women. Then, Sheamus goes twice against John Morrison and The Miz. Finally, we get Riddle in a gauntlet match against Shelton Benjamin, MVP and Cedric Alexander that you knew would predictably end with Riddle winning a title match against United States Champion Bobby Lashley, only to have Lashley put him in the Full Nelson after the match.

One thing that did make sense, at least a little bit, was Mustafa Ali finally explaining why he’s going after Xavier Woods. Tying in the fact that Kingston took Ali’s spot in the Ladder Match that propelled Kofi to his World Title win at WrestleMania 35 was a nice touch, even though it wrapped around a Woods victory over RETRIBUTION, a faction that never wins! If you’re Ali, why do you need the rest of the gang?

AJ Styles vs. R-Truth was fine. Nothing wrong with as filler I guess, but was there really any chance that Truth could win?

Goldberg and Drew McIntyre’s face-off was of course interrupted by The Miz & John Morrison, which made no sense. Why tell both guys you’re going to cash in the money in the bank briefcase? One spear and one claymore later and they’re both on their backs. At least it was short and sweet.

"I need to win the #RoyalRumble. I need to main event WrestleMania, and take back what I never lost." #WWERaw @EdgeRatedR pic.twitter.com/JAAtozppYt

— WWE (@WWE) January 26, 2021

Outside of Edge, was there really any importance put on this Sunday’s Royal Rumble Match?

Where was Ricochet?

NXT

RESULTS

Dusty Rhodes Tag Team Classic Quarterfinals: MSK defeated Drake Maverick & Killian Dain

Dusty Rhodes Women’s Tag Team Classic First Round Match: Raquel Gonzalez & Dakota Kai defeated Aliyah & Jessi Kamea

Tyler Rust defeated Dante Rios

Dusty Rhodes Men’s Tag Team Classic Quarterfinals: Grizzled Young Veterans defeated KUSHIDA & Leon Ruff

Bronson Reed defeated Isaiah “Swerve” Scott

Non-Title NXT Tag Team Championship Match: Finn Balor & Kyle O’Reilly defeated Danny Burch & Oney Lorcan

How far can MSK go in the Dusty Rhodes Classic? I was hoping a match-up with KUSHIDA & Leon Ruff would be in the offing, but the Grizzled Young Veterans put that to bed. Alas, KUSHIDA now has bigger fish to fry with NXT North American Champion Johnny Gargano up next after Gargano & Austin Theory’s post-match attack. So, how will Dexter Lumis factor into the equation? And will he ever speak? As for Wes Lee and Nash Carter, it should be an entertaining semifinal up next against the winner of Lucha House Party and Legado del Fantasma.

.@KUSHIDA_0904 wanted @JohnnyGargano's attention? He just got it. #WWENXT pic.twitter.com/Ilbn33DVad

— WWE (@WWE) January 28, 2021

As expected, Raquel Gonzalez & Dakota Kai easily got by the new Robert Stone Brand team of Aliyah & Jessi Kamea in the first round of the Dusty Rhodes Classic. You have to think Kai & Gonzalez are the odds-on favorites to win right? But it would be another tasty upset for Kayden Carter & Kacy Catanzaro to knock them off in round 2 to keep the dream alive.

𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈.@Lady_Scarlett13 delivers a haunting message on #WWENXT. pic.twitter.com/Kli7kFYMHp

— WWE (@WWE) January 28, 2021

Uh oh, Scarlett has another warning for NXT!

Tyler Rust vs. a jobber. Smart move by Malcolm Bivens to make that match. His new star needed a win in the worst way.

"I want to 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 you. I want to 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 you, and I want to 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 #WWENXT #WomensTitle." – Toni Storm

@shirai_io pic.twitter.com/zpX6SWZk2r

— WWE (@WWE) January 28, 2021

Are we headed for a triple threat match between Io Shirai, Toni Storm and Mercedes Martinez for the NXT Women’s Championship? I was excited for Shirai vs. Storm one-on-one, but it looks like Martinez is not going to let that happen. The triple threat match was confirmed Friday for NXT: TakeOver on February 14th.

Tick tock? #WWENXT @EscobarWWE pic.twitter.com/eyNrzcwqfI

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) January 28, 2021

Should Santos Escobar & Legado del Fantasma be worried about Tick Tock after their attack on Curt Stallion?

"My arrival is only the beginning." – @TheWWEWolfe IMPERIUM has plans for @WWENXT… pic.twitter.com/ubLDULjxGq

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) January 28, 2021

What does Alexander Wolfe have in store for IMPERIUM?

Bronson Reed and Isaiah “Swerve” Scott was much better than I thought it was going to be. I half expected Reed to squash him in about 3 minutes, but they gave them almost 10 minutes to put on a really good match. Reed’s on the way up while Scott seems to have leveled off lately.

Look. Shrug. Break Fingers. Bail. That's the @PeteDunneYxB way. #WWENXT @ONEYLORCAN @strongstylebrit @FinnBalor pic.twitter.com/G1eidAKFQq

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) January 28, 2021

Finn Balor & Kyle O’Reilly may have won the battle (and the match) over NXT Tag Team Champions Oney Lorcan & Danny Burch, but needless to say, they lost the short-term war. With an assist from Pete Dunne, they beat the snot out of Balor before Adam Cole and Roderick Strong made the save. Dunne wants that NXT Championship and with a snap of Balor’s fingers, he may have gotten his attention. As for the match, the ending seemed a bit strange as Burch comes off the top rope, hits O’Reilly in the jaw but O’Reilly gets a kneebar for a quick tap out. A bit rushed if you ask me.

SMACKDOWN

RESULTS

Bianca Belair defeated Bayley

King Corbin defeated Dominik Mysterio

Daniel Bryan defeated AJ Styles via DQ

Big E, Daniel Bryan & Shinsuke Nakamura vs. AJ Styles, Sami Zayn & Cesaro ends in no-contest

Big E, Daniel Bryan, Shinsuke Nakamura, Otis & Sheamus defeated AJ Styles, Sami Zayn, Cesaro, The Miz & John Morrison (Sheamus pins Zayn)

Thank you Daniel Bryan for putting some urgency and importance on the Royal Rumble match. In just a few short minutes opening SmackDown, Bryan did what RAW couldn’t do in three hours Monday night. Having RAW’s AJ Styles on was a nice touch to bring in the brand vs. brand unity of the Rumble match.

"The only thing that can top me beating @itsBayleyWWE is winning the women's #RoyalRumble match." – @BiancaBelairWWE #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/aVNkaFSVMu

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) January 30, 2021

This could be a huge weekend for Bianca Belair! First, getting the victory over Bayley and then the Royal Rumble on Sunday in which I expect her to go all the way for the win as well. I liked having Kayla Braxton interview her right after the victory too, giving it an emotional, human touch for Belair.

.@TheRealMorrison is going TO THE MOON

#SmackDown pic.twitter.com/6l8XEnLHJq

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) January 30, 2021

Thank you Big E for beating up The Miz and John Morrison, also on loan from RAW. I thought the quarterly brand invitational was just one person per quarter? Of course, the rules don’t matter in the WWE.

Looks like Rey Mysterio is going to have to finish what Dominik Mysterio started. Dominik lost again for the second straight week to Corbin and when the King tried to put his hands on Rey, Mr. 619 got his revenge.

SUIT GAME.#SmackDown @SonyaDevilleWWE @WWEBigE pic.twitter.com/wpdMJIEy5O

— WWE (@WWE) January 30, 2021

Looking good Sonya Deville! I like the upgrade over Adam Pearce.

Shinsuke Nakamura to Sami Zayn: Thank you, but go to hell. Well said Shinsuke!

You gotta love the sexual tension between Sasha Banks and Reginald!

The Head of the Table has heard all he needs to hear…#SmackDown @WWERomanReigns @FightOwensFight @HeymanHustle pic.twitter.com/KJGNgNsWeH

— WWE (@WWE) January 30, 2021

The Final Showdown between Roman Reigns and Kevin Owens was a simple, verbal battle. Interesting shirt choice by KO with the EverRise Rules attire. You can just feel how personal and how communal it’s gotten between these two. Reigns clicked Owens off, but he can’t do that the next time they meet in person. It’s going to be one hell of a physical Last Man Standing Match Sunday night.

A MONSTER is among us. @BraunStrowman is BACK! #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/g17YPryTbV

— WWE (@WWE) January 30, 2021

What can you say about Styles vs. Bryan? One-on-one, it’s two of the best on the planet inside the squared circle. But, really, did we need Sami Zayn and Big E to interrupt it? This is why we can’t have shiny, new toys. Of course, it leads to the predictable DQ ending brawl and restart as a six-man tag match with Styles, Zayn and Cesaro taking on Bryan, Big E and Shinsuke Nakamura. Yes, the WWE has broken up yet another tag team in Cesaro & Nakamura because that is the flavor of the month these days. YAWN. The six-man match turns into the annual Royal Rumble go-home show free-for-all otherwise known as a ten-man match as The Miz, John Morrison, Otis and Sheamus joined the fun. Not to be outdone, Braun Strowman makes his first appearance since being suspended after Survivor Series to clear the ring. I guess Big Braun is back and in the Rumble match!

Parting Shots:

So, the WWE Network is headed to Peacock! Starting in March, you’ll have to get all your WWE PPVs, original programming and old-school content on the new NBC Universal streaming service. It’s a deal worth over $1 billion (with a “B”) over five years for the WWE. So, it’ll cost you $4.99 if you want to be part of Peacock Premium with ads or $9.99 for Peacock Premium Plus. Right now, the WWE Network has roughly 1.6 million subscribers. Peacock has 33 million subscribers with a huge 9 million bump in subscribers since adding The Office. It’ll open the company to a whole new mainstream audience and gives them some dough to boot. Not a bad way to start 2021 if you’re the WWE. It’s also a built-in place for RAW, NXT and other WWE shows to be put if there’s a broadcast pre-emption now that USA Network will be adding a ton of sports LIVE programming with the end to NBCSN at the end of the year.

Coming up Saturday night at 8pm on FS1, we get the return of WWE Backstage with Renee Young (Paquette), Booker T and Paige. They’ll announce who the first two entrants in the men’s Royal Rumble will be. Plus, Natalya and Tamina get to face-off for the last spot, lucky #30 in the women’s Royal Rumble match. Why exactly do they get that easy route and not have to go through every one else?  

Coming up next week:

RAW: Royal Rumble fallout

NXT: Dusty Rhodes Men’s Tag Team Classic Quarterfinals: Lucha House Party vs. Legado del Fantasma Dusty Rhodes Men’s Tag Team Classic Quarterfinals: The Undisputed Era vs. Tommaso Ciampa & Timothy Thatcher NXT Cruiserweight Championship Match: Santos Escobar vs. Curt Stallion Dusty Rhodes Women’s Tag Team Semifinals: Raquel Gonzalez & Dakota Kai vs. Kacy Catanzaro & Kayden Carter

SMACKDOWN: Royal Rumble fallout

Thanks for letting us share our thoughts! Shoot me an email at jcrowe567@gmail.com. We’d love to hear your comments and suggestions! You can also check out my blog, The Crowe’s Nest as we delve into more pro wrestling, sports entertainment and the World of Sports. My apologies ahead of time – I AM a Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins fan! If you’re not down with that, I’ve got TWO WORDS for you… NEW ENGLAND

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#4)

S3: Nothing to fear. See what happens.

-GUYS IT’S AVA

-yes.

-Ava: “It’s leaking.” Connor: “that’s impossible.” BITCH FUKCING BET

-Ava’s like bruh you ain’t shit

-ava undermining connor to latham. hmm...... not that good for my argument, but... it just means, greater redemption arc

-okay why does Connor gotta look at her so mean tho?? bro chill

-literally why is everyone so horny

-haha sarah yessss. the clipped ‘dr. reese’ ‘dr. charles.’

-i have no idea why but sarah and noah are just walking through the ed and I keep expecting ava to fucking pop out of nowhere and save her from the convo. oh my god.

-okay sarah’s storyline in this one is pretty good. the lady, the patient, she’s great.

-sarah is adorable right now. so professional but also chill

-’disingenious’ okay damn go off

-okay but back up to my point before, i’ve always thought of ava of being like this lowkey protector of women (ik it’s a little out of left field) so everytime I see a guy trying to talk to flirt with a girl i am always expecting ava to just swoop in and save the day. ESPECIALLY with sarah, and its gotten to the point while watching her and noah I ACTUALLY expected her to pop up. dumb monkey brain never learns --- I actually wrote this so here it is

-god sarah is the fucking best

-uh oh, the fact that there’s an ava/connor scene right after this is SENDING ME (not in the good way bc literally stop it - especially)

-this is the scene where ava brings him coffee and his hair is a mess. It shows empathy (if you take away the romantic ava subtext). Like if you look at it on the surface, it’s a great scene, she’s nice. But then she goes and starts talking about robin and how she is also kind of his patient, which could be read as undermining (listen ava stans I promise i’m not looking for negative ava points it just happens)

-BUT THE BEST THING IS IT DOESN’T GO THAT FAR. I was fully expecting him to get accusatory of her criticizing robin but he doesn’t so we’re good. This scene is completely fine without the romantic subtext, which is fantastic

-this scene is also fun if you think about those au’s where sarah or ava has really severe mental illnesses that effect her work bc then the exact things she says to connor ‘you work our schedule then you go home to your girlfriend who is basically your patient too’ and- Now that i think about it in those stories connor would just be super super supportive aw well

- i do really like that scene - one of the best points of connor/ava brotp

-Ava: “At least it hasn’t affected your sunny disposition” ma’am I love you

-Ava: “keep up the good work” she said keep making mistakes and I keep getting paid let’s go this is the team

-is this the one where the baby was fake? that was a really good episode

-aw wait there’s actually a baby nevermind

-ava’s best storylines are one’s where she’s independent of connor. we’ve established that. it’s not that I hate connor, I just get scared when they’re in the same room for a long time bc then they inevitably start talking relationships and undertones

-when we get to the actual relationship i’m gonna vomit

-why does Connor have to be right everytime? Come on, it’s annoying, and not just for me, right?

-everytime he’s right and ava is wrong, it makes ava seem impulsive. As we’ve established before, she’s not impulsive (EXCEPT WHEN CONNOR IS BOWLING OVER HER DECISIONS AND CONGRATULATED FOR IT). she’s a good doctor, she wouldn’t be at med with connor if she was not

-yeah it’s that classic thing where surgeons are always partial to surgery

-ava tends to lead to the more serious possible outcome. actually, that’s really all it is, she tends to believe the most drastic possibilities. she makes the tough decisions when no one else can/will. she’s fucking amazing, and that’s why we love her - but everytime connor bowls over her decisions, she seems impulsive, she seems incompetent, almost dramatic. med. no.

-especially on this case - remember that this is CONNOR’S mistake! ava is cleaning up after it! connor should not be congratulated when, from the way I look at it, connor’s just getting lucky.

-gosh sarah’s fantastic

- nobody:

-sarah: *rolls sleeves*

-oh yeah she steals sarah’s prescription pad. i really do hate all the people sarah treats bc they like totally take advantage of her and make her distrust them so much that she feels super unsafe. ava will protect her (in my brain ava is a instinctual protector of women)

-okay but literally in this scene sarah is like floored and she makes a deal of apologizing to charles but like,,, sarah Was right. babey no...

-ik that most medical dramas are all about doctors disagreeing over things but,, med would not be able to propel story without it. literally everything story beat is-

character A: I think this.

Char B: No! we’re going to do this.

*does the thing* *thing goes wrong*

B: See? I told you so.

-also most of the time something Else happens and A happens to be right the entire time. (and the amount of times character b happens to be female and char A is a man is astounding. literally ava in her first ep, and ethan and april now. holy shit I hate this show so much.)

-i boiled down med to its bare essentials!

-sarah: *prescription pad goes missing* *sees woman who wanted a note* *dramatic music plays*

-sarah... please no. she’s about to do a bad thing....

-sarah’s storyline makes me so fucking sad.

-the way sarah fixes her shirt/jacket when she tries to be in control

-SARAH GOING TO BE ALONE SO SHE CRIES ON THE ROOF - MY FUCKING HEART????? stop it med fucking stop it (i got so upset in my first draft i wrote stopping fuck it) - but that’s some reesker inspo right there

-med writers really try to make everything a ‘thing’

nobody: ...

april: it’s because i’m not a doctor, isn’t it.

(alt:

ethan: ...

doris: it’s bc you two are fucking, right )

-but maggie is taking none of their shit

-maggie: if you two don’t stop misbehaving i’m gonna move your desks apart

-the way all the people with common sense talk to the doctors like children is fucking hilarious (sharon: ‘I expect better from you, Dr. Manning’

-if nat pulls the ‘i know this, i’m a mother’ card i am suing.

-I’m suing.

-she pulled the ‘I’m a mother’ card AND the ‘my husband died’ card oh wow! a two for!

-okay honestly. Im gonna be real with u. If i came up with nat’s story about her fear of heights, then I wrote will helping her over her fear of heights, I would be proud of that. That being said, it feels suuuuper out of place right here. it’d be in place in like a thirty minute comedy (like the emotional development and pay off is on brand for like brooklyn nine nine) but it just feels suuuper weird.

-like having an hour per ep means it feels like they should have had enough time to better develop the story

-latham: ‘Did you go behind my back?’ YES LATHAM YES HE DID. FLAME HIS ASS

-i want to see what happens with connor’s benching storyline

-now i get anxious whenever they’re in surgery (you can use this for inspo)

-okay what. just bc connor found something wrong he gets to SCRUB IN??? BRO HE SHOULD NOT GET A SURGERY FOR NOTICING A MANUFACTURING MISTAKE??? this is so FUCKING STUPID

- i hate it here

-the way sarah folds her hands behind her back when she goes into charles’ office - adorable.

-okay what the fuck. charles asks sarah into his office and asks for her diagnosis of him, which makes it seem like he is actually trying to get better, but then when sarah answers his question (incorrectly btw, charles is not fine) he’s such a complete jerk. dude everybody needs to stop hating on sarah come on wtf. that’s literally so mean.

-god she is literally too pure she should not be a psychiatrist.

-that being said. she is beautiful.

-I FUCKING FORGOT THAT THE PATIENT SLASHED SARAH’S TIRES

-she really can’t catch a break. babey

-sarah noah brotp is probably peak

-its very rare for med to have two characters of opposite genders interact and not get together so this is a special thing

This episode wasn’t the worst. I wrote that fun little thing about Ava shutting down Noah’s advances on Sarah. The Ava/Connor cafeteria scene is fantastic for their interactions with each other, and like always, we just sit through the other storylines.

thanks for sticking through. not a lot to say, this was more me just talking about the general tropes used on med, but i did write a whole 500 words for casual reesker so its a good day

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[youseissi]

𝚂𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 현실판에

Chapter 5 - Mist

Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5 ✧ Chapter 6 ✧ Chapter 7 ✧ Chapter 8 ✧ TBC ✧ AO3 ✧ Masterlist

The inside of the storage room separated the items of value with a barrier of fancy looking bars, surely connected to an alarm system. Cameras moved slowly, perched up high on the walls and Wooyoung eyed them with a mocking smirk remembering the old times when he actually bothered to do something about those.

Now he no longer gave them a second thought, a hoodie and a mask being enough masking as long as he was fast enough.

He swung back and forth on his heels for a moment with his hand on his pockets before he bolted forward, disappearing for a second and reappearing beyond the bars leaving a trail of dull silver dust in his awake.

A second later the alarms started sounding, practically deafening on his ears, but too late as Wooyoung had already run up to a seemingly more heavily guarded glass case and was unceremoniously bashing against the glass with a crowbar.

Jewellery stores like this one, too lazy or too self-assured to better store away their goods at night, were his favorite targets. So easy that it almost seemed too good to be true, but after so long Wooyoung didn’t question how stupid security could be anymore. Didn’t matter, he could always get past whatever they schemed anyway.

But maybe this time he should’ve questioned it. If he wasn’t so jaded by then the thief surely would’ve noticed that this was blatant bait. At the very least he definitely should’ve notice the trail of gold traveling through the floor coming for him sooner.

However he didn’t, the shining spreading metallic color being ignored for the shiny crystals he gathered in his pockets and so the thief had no clue as to what was happening when he turned to make his escape and he couldn’t move, his foot stuck to the floor. Panic flooded him as he heard loud stomping coming from the stairs at the far back, multiple people making their way there while he couldn’t budge.

Even his power seemed stuck, taking him all his willpower to activate it.

The silver dust scattered and dragged itself back through the bars, but sagging down and reforming into Wooyoung again, crouching to regain his strength.

The thief felt the cold floor against his skin barely processing that now he was barefoot. Only being able to spare one quick look back, he spotted his old sneakers still encrusted to where he was a moment ago turned completely golden before the flood of security guards coming down finally appeared.

He ran towards the small entrance he came from, a slight crack on the glass display window at the storefront, and forced himself through it with his power again momentaneously confusing his chasers.

Running through the upscale gallery’s hallway he quickly noticed that he had company waiting from him on the outside as well.

Wooyoung cursed as he ran away, knowing that the path he was forced to take lead to a balcony and soon he’d be cornered. On a normal day, running back against the current of enemies would be nothing to him, but insecurity filled him now. He felt so heavy, not being able to execute his moves as sharply as he intended.

Finally he reached the end, the hallway broadening into an outdoors area fancily furbished and Wooyoung had to quickly think on his next move before they caught up with him. It’d been a while since he last did something risky like this, but he’d have to take his chances and just roll with it this time.

If it was a big show that they wanted he’d give it to them, he thought as he gave a step back and ran forwards gaining speed and not stopping.

The thief stepped swiftly onto a stool without losing momentum, using it as a stepping stone to propel himself over the ledge, trying his best to get as far from the building possible.

At that moment, he couldn’t think of anything, all of it slowing down as he just felt the cold night air brush against him painfully before turning himself to dust and pushing through to the next building with the little bit of power he could manage.

Behind him the gold trail that chased him followed dangerously close, making wild and beautiful patterns spread through the sky. Similar to lightning but not quite, curling delicately into little spirals and sparkling against the moonlight, outshining Wooyoung’s opaque steel tones as one mixed and faded where the other started.

The thief’s vision was blurred with the mix of adrenaline and lack of breath as his feet touched the rooftop he landed in, the rough concrete under him scratching his barefoot sole. A last look over his shoulder gave him a glimpse of the mesmerising abstract mess that painted his trajectory, a small silhouette outstretching his hand in his direction, clearly the root of everything, surrounded by a dozen of the usual underling guards that often came after him.

Wooyoung didn’t waste time to scramble out of there. It had been a while since he felt that scared of getting caught.

༄ ⇀ ✧

Yeosang was the first person Yunho ever saw with a bright golden aura that was not wearing a mask or fighting on tv. The psych was playing on his phone while sitting on a small table at their usual coffee shop when the dazzlingly light sudden sparked at the side of his peripheral vision.

He had jumped in fright, already tense at the prospect of the only person he knew with an aura like that, knocking his phone out of his owns hands and onto the floor. The swirl of gold shifted as it’s owner bended to get it for him.

His mind was about to enter into full panic mode until he actually stopped to look and take in the  sight of the small boy in front of him. The thought that it was definitely not The Cardinal or his lackey calmed him down instantly, the other being several centimeters shorter than both the villains. He looked uneasy, fidgeting as Yunho observed him curiously.

“Uh...You know dropped this, right?” He spoke and the older finally noticed that he had his hand outstretched towards him holding his precious phone, too distracted to see it before. He really needed to stop dropping it so often, maybe luck wasn’t one of his powers after all.

The kid wore gloves, handling the phone very carefully, flinching visibly as Yunho moved his way to take it from him and the psych could feel the anxiety surrounding him with an unpleasant metallic taste in his mouth.

“Thanks” Yunho replied quickly, embarrassed for leaving him hanging for so long.

“Do you want something to drink?” the other replied with eyes not meeting his, seeming impatient but the older knew better.

“Ah, no, don’t worry it’s my fault, I was the one that dropped it and I’m waiting for someone.” Yunho answered quickly sheepishly thinking it was an apology or maybe an awkward flirt.

“No, I mean… I’m the waiter, do you wanna order something?” the other answered flatly, now looking at him weird.

“Ah yes, yes” Yunho blushed in embarrassment as he recited his usual order, a very simple drink with an unnecessary long name and a bagel.

“Okay, it’ll be right up.” he answered after writing it down, already leaving.

“Wait.” Yunho called out reaching for him on instinct. He didn’t particular mean to touch the boy, just stretching out his arm mindlessly, but the way he jumped away in a panic, the look on his face with utter horror, startled him.

Yunho never thought he could install that much fear on someone, he wondered what he did wrong to cause that as the ringing in his ears raised up and faded with the other’s rush of emotions.

“Do you need something more?” he asked, composing himself, still breathing hard as if he had just suffered a jumpscare.

He wanted to ask about it. The aura, the gloves, the way he looked and felt so on edge. But he couldn’t figure out the right words for it. For all he knew the boy could also have something to do with the villains.

Or just not know anything at all. Yunho’s vision pointed out things that only he saw and the feelings he felt were not so different from some form of trauma, which were private things he had no business with. It was frustrating to have such details shoved in his face raising questions that he couldn’t ask without exposing himself.

“Nothing, sorry.” He muttered letting it go that time, mind racing with thoughts on how to approach the mystery laid out in front of him.

✧  ⇀ ༄

Unlike The Cardinal, Wooyoung wanted to keep a low profile and it was never a problem since his deeds couldn’t be properly reported in detail without sparking up a whole string of political debates. He managed to pick his targets well, it became harder to report a crime if you committed a few yourself and as much as the local news tried to villainify him through their half truths and outrageous headlines, it was hard for them to both try to keep it short and cry for attention at the same time.

Nonetheless he got the people’s attention online.

Again, he wasn’t one to market himself like the current mainstream popular villain, but it was a case of actions speaks louder than words. And that made a lot of sense in his case, since Wooyoung was time and time again deemed by the public as the modern day Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor.

His power also following the trend of an old korean novel about a similar character known to be everywhere teleporting from one side of the country to the other in the blink of an eye robbing the corrupt and providing for the needy. He was fated to eventually appeal to the general public’s approval like this.

And he would be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention. He just loved putting on a show, seeing it played back in videos, no one being able to guess how he did it.

The nickname they gave him, Mist ‘because he could be everywhere but was still untouchable’, had his confidence in the clouds and the wrong claims of his power being teleportation were his favorites, taking his ego even higher. No one could touch him. Literally. Because his power wasn’t teleportation, not even close to it.

Yet it was hard to explain. What he did, could it be classified as disintegrating? He wasn’t sure, but he knew it’s properties well despite not being able to describe them and Mist was a very befitting name for it. He just particularly felt every atom in his body, felt in control of every party of his physique so much that he could move it very precisely. So much that sometime those atoms weren’t even connecting anymore, going through the air weightless. Like dust, almost invisible to the human eye.

It wasn’t super speed either as some have chimed in. He moved normally, but he could distribute the impulse he got from his steps in a more efficient way consequently jumping forward better than the average person.

People also guessed that going through walls was part of his bag of tricks, yet it wasn’t so simple as he couldn’t pass through something solid. He still existed, he himself still solid, just scattered. Thankfully no one noticed that weakness yet.

Running freely, jumping from roof to roof as light as wind itself, feeling like stardust above anyone’s reach was a exhilarating feeling. And it just so happens that this power was also perfectly convenient for stealing. From petty theft to grand heists, he could do it all and never get caught.

Wooyoung himself had a pretty tight budget growing up, his parents struggling to live paycheck to paycheck. It particularly marked him how they always worked for wealthy people that were, more often than not, not that grateful for their services even when they worked so hard to please.

He had been homeschooled, taking advantage of joining in classes by a tutor paid for the rich kid he grew up around. Even if he despised the adults around them, he couldn’t say the same about Yeosang, that turned out to be his only friend for years to come.

They were inseparable, supporting themselves as they got dragged through a turbulent childhood and confinding their secrets and emotions away from the judgement that could not be found only in each other.

Inseparable they were, until his parents got fired. Accused of using him to steal from their patrons manor and he really didn’t even do it that time, the irony of the future thief being innocent.

At the time it was the end of the world, he still remembered embarrassingly crying and pleading to the doorman to just let him see his friend, but after they were thrown out he never got past the front gate again.

Yeosang also didn’t seem to have cared all that much about him, because he never answered any of his texts or calls again. The other went completely silent on his end.

But now he had moved on already, as he clearly was the only one that was actually affected by that. The next servant kid would go on to take his place. Maybe he was a little bitter, but whatever. It taught him a good lesson on how the world really works.

Currently he had moved out and was living in the capital. He didn’t feel the need to continue his studies as he didn’t really need a job, he made enough money as it was. He spent most of his time at a dance studio choosing that as a carrier, dancing was something he grew to have a passion for.

The big city was full of shady targets he could exploit and plenty of connections to resell his spoils. It made him hundred times more than he could ever spend, but was too suspicious for a kid like him to go on throwing money away like this. He didn’t really feel the need to have a lavish lifestyle either, so he just lived comfortably with it and invested the excess on the type of places that helped his family before.

The word of his donations seemed to go well with people, even though it was anonymous.

༄ ⇀ ✧

There was a thief well known for burglarising high end jewellery stores and fancy mansions that had been terrorising the city for a couple of years already. Yunho had that knowledge in the back of his head somewhere, because everyone knew about it, it was a popular topic.

But he was neither rich nor particularly curious about it. He hadn’t heard many details and the media did a crappy job in relaying anything relevant outside a paywall, so when he turned on the news that morning the last thing he expected was a full segment being dedicated about it or the whole panic surrounding Mist’s recent heist.

It was by complete chance and luck he was seeing this, usually he would be in class and not at home at that hour. But that morning he woke up sick to his stomach and could not move a finger without feeling like he would barf. Joongie, the ever so prepared roommate, spared some medicine for his sickness and left with a promise to bring him some easy to digest lunch later.

So that day he was staying in. It was several hours waiting for the meds to kick in before he felt like he could move and when he finally did it was only to grab his laptop and come back under the blankets, turning on the tv as background noise.

The more they spoke about the thief’s latest prowess though, the more his interest peaked. The news anchor made it sound like what he did was some sort of magic trick beyond just human abilities. And that was kinda relevant to him, cuz, you know, until some months ago he thought he was the only person ever cursed with a power.

And since he wasn’t paying that much attention before, he was blindsided when they finally started showing scenes of the robbery in question and there was not one but two golden auras there. Wasn’t that interesting.

Yunho watched the news attentively from then on. Although he couldn’t get a grasp of what the two powers actually did no matter how many times they showed the same few clips, it was clear they were indeed superpowers as if the golden auras weren’t enough evidence.

Maybe there were more people like him than he first thought, perhaps there was golden auras surrounding him all around and he just needed to pay more attention. However, knowing his luck, the new barista at his local coffee shop that instantly came to mind being one of them couldn’t be a coincidence.

Hongjoong came back into their room practically unnoticed as the psych was immersed at the newscast, carrying a couple of paper bags filled with food and heading directly to the free space at the end of Yunho’s bed.

“I’m back! They didn’t have your order so I-” The older called out as he made his way and dropped himself and the bags over the sea of comforters.

“Shhh” He shushed the other’s interruption.

“What? What is it?” Hongjoong asked finally noticing where the other had his attention turned to.

“The news, have you seen this before? Someone with powers is standing up against Mist. They’re calling him a hero like they did with you when you started.” Yunho explained his eyes trained on the swirling gold on the screen.

“Oh, really?” His roommate asked mindlessly, more interested on unwrapping the food. “With that type of power it would be easier to get The Cardinal.”

“Would you pair up with him? Could be like the start of a justice league.” Yunho asked out loud after some thought, Yeosang jumping to his mind yet again.

“I’m not sure, they must have some sort of hidden reason to go after this thief, right? I wouldn’t want to partner up with someone just as bad as the rest of them.” The older answered passing him a pot with some type of soup inside.

Yunho hadn’t really thought about that. He tried not to look too deep into what Hongjoong meant as rest of them. Surely he meant the rest of the villains making a big scene and not just people with powers in general.

Yunho didn’t like that his mind jumped to that interpretation.

“I see. I hadn’t thought about it.” He muttered. The soup didn't look that appetising, but he tried eating some for the sake of it.

“I mean if you have a power like that and are willing to fight why would you go for this guy and not The Cardinal? Robberies are wrong and all, but I find mass mind control way more unforgivable than stealing some pretty rocks from people that don’t even lose that much with it.” Hongjoong continued, not impressed with the newer hero.

”I guess so” Yunho replied. He wouldn’t think about going against The Cardinal either, weren’t he much more scary? Dealing with a thief seemed less dangerous and still overall helpful. Hongjoong was more of the type to go all or nothing though.

“Thinking about it, maybe it’s good that he hasn’t come close to The Cardinal? If he got controlled then his powers could be used against his will.” The psych tried defending the stranger as he wondered about his motives as well.

“Ah, yeah true. Let's hope that this doesn't give that asshole any ideas then." The older replied tilting his head in thought. "Anyway eat your soup and go back to resting instead of being on that laptop all day. You won't get better by playing games nonstop.”

"Ha, I wish. The class I missed today had a project we were supposed to start working on. I have to do so much coding, I won't get to play for weeks." Yunho answered sarcastically, grimacing at the task ahead. If only his power was somehow useful regarding college, maybe he should’ve gone with psychology instead.

✧  ⇀ ༄

"Wooyoungiiiiie, I've been lonelyyyy" San whined, his whole weight thrown onto Wooyoung's back while his arms wrapped around his neck lazily.

"Ugh you're too loud, my head hurts." The shorter scolded him, just as loud himself but voice dying down to a whisper by the end of it.

"Ah, what's that? Have you been out partying yesterday? Without me?" San had now a mischievous grin, mistaking the other’s reaction as traces of a hangover, distancing himself enough to look at the other's face. "I even told you how bored I was, have you found someone you're more interested in?" He continued accusingly, more curious than actually upset.

"I didn't, I just had a rough night." Wooyoung replied groaning, dismissive of the other's attempt to rial him up. It was unusual for him to act like that, specially around San and it only had the older worrying.

"Is that so?" He asked mood dropping a bit.

"Yes, now stop fooling around and start helping out already."

They were helping out at a local school as volunteers, spending their Saturday organising donations. San wasn’t there exactly by sheer good will, he did it mostly for extra credit, but considering he had other options it still spoke some of his values.

Wooyoung’s dance crew participated in quite a few charity events and as he had that much free time he got into volunteering by himself, curious to see in first person which places were genuine enough to share his loot with. The two of them met there almost a year ago, clicking right away and with time developing a long lasting friendship.

"I got it, I'm going to get more box- aha!" San was about to move when he spotted it. With a devious smirk he went back to teasing "You sneaky little devil, are you lying to me now?"

"What are you even talking about?" Wooyoung sighted pushing a box to a higher shelf, on his tiptoes, his arms stretched to reach up there.

"There's proof all over your arms! Must have been a wild night if you're still covered in glitter under your clothes." San pointed at his arms with a somewhat hungry expression at the thought and it wasn't glitter per se that was there. Something more expensive. Wooyoung quickly retracted his arms in a panic, San perceiving that as an admission to the truth.

"Haha, don't worry bro I'm not judging. Just don't forget I'm here too you know I'm getting so bored with classes lately I really need a night out to get wasted and forget about..." San continued talking mindlessly, Wooyoung however wasn't hearing much anymore a bit affected by seeing the sparkles of gold encrusted in his arms, sparkling obnoxiously in the natural light.

Honestly, he felt a little invaded. For you see, his power required him to have a very thorough awareness of his own body, else he might disperse and then regroup as completely different form or missing a limb and that wouldn't be very fun. So he knew and practically felt every single independent cell in his own body.

That's how he could separate the gold from himself at the end of the day. In the heat of the moment it slowed him down, glued him to stuff and he just wasn't able to keep up with it so quickly, but if he just sat down and took a long pause he could get it out. It didn't affect him. It shouldn't affect him. And that's why just finding stray pieces like this felt so frustrating, intrusive even.

Because he should've noticed they were there. He shouldn't be having that pointed out to him.

The first time he was hit and petrified it felt foreign and heavy on him. It felt almost unbearable, like a lead ball attached to his ankle or having to carry dumbbells with him.

With time he was growing used to it, just feeling it mildly annoying and gross like stepping on gum or when you stick a piece of tape to a cat. A feeling of something being wrong and you just can't shake it off.

But by then it had evolved into it sneaking into him and downright naturally feeling like it was part of him.

How many times had he used his powers since the last fight? And just considered the gold as part of his own anatomy, pushed it out then pulled it back in like a normal piece of him? And he didn't notice that not even once?

It sparked many questions and unfounded fear in Wooyoung's head. He hadn't had so many qualms pop up since the time he was still learning to use his power. What if he ends up mistaking actual parts of him with the gold? What if he's slowly becoming metal with each hit of that power? What if...

"Wooyoung?" San asked, his face centimeters from his own looking for any signal of consciousness in his eyes. "Seriously, whatever you had last night must've been pretty heavy huh." San mumbled pouting his tone low and whiny, distraught at being ignored and his brows arched in worry.

Wooyoung always wore his heart on his sleeve, so San never batted an eye at his mood swings that were followed by either lovable praise or sharp remarks. It was disconcerting at first, but once he got used to it his directness made things easier. You always knew what you were getting from him, as reserved as he was with his private life you could still always tell what his mood was.

And for San that had known him for a good while, it felt like he had developed a good gut instinct to know when it was just Wooyoung being grouchy and when things should be more concerning to him.

"Sorry, let's just get this done with, okay? Then we can go grab some chicken." San didn't let it go, worry still in his face, but loosened up as Wooyoung continued. "My treat. Let's hang out today and then we can have chicken while binge watching something together. I'll even let you pick one of those sappy dramas you like."

"Well, if you say so, no take backs" The older answered a little tauntingly as he thought about his options.

"Yeah, now get a move on while I go grab an aspirin." Wooyoung huffed. He supposed a day with his best friend would do him good. Better than being alone and getting lost on his own anxiety.

༄ ⇀ ✧

It was a holiday when Yunho first got a glimpse of who Yeosang really was. The coffee shop was infested that day, filled with both regulars and odd new customers ordering festive drinks that didn’t seem simple to make.

Usually the tall boy would avoid crowds as much as possible being overly sensitive to them but after the opportunity of having a empty lab all for himself, allowing him to spend the whole morning playing around with his gadgets, his hunger was enough of a grounding feeling for him to be able to brave the rainbow of auras inside the packed space.

Yunho was sitting at the counter that day, not where he usually sat but the only available spot then, taking the chance to watch Yeosang work more closely. The boy was making the drinks that time, not very efficiently, but the severely understaffed team of part timers there were practically all hired recently so it was expected.

At that point Yunho already had a hunch of who Yeosang could be. Not that it was difficult to guess, if he ignored the chance of the barista being someone unrelated to the superhero scene then only two options were left. And only one of them was a newcomer as Yunho had researched.

Yeosang set a plate with his bagel in front of him, the drink next almost slipping from his hand if Yunho didn’t rush to hold it. The barista evaded him like the plague, retracting five steps as soon as he motioned forward. They were already acquainted and on a first name basis already with how often Yunho came by, so one would think he’d have warmed up to him at that point.

“You know, maybe is the gloves? I think it would be easier without them?” It wasn’t the first time things slipped from his hands and Yunho was starting to become concerned for the younger boy.

The other didn’t respond, looking briefly at his hands as the golden outline swayed in doubt before going back to work.

It was an interesting concept, that all people with powers had golden auras surrounding them. Yunho could now pinpoint powerful people with a look, that ought to be useful. Apparently invisibility didn’t follow that rule, but with three cases against one it seemed to be more of an exception to a rule.

He never had much time to really analyse The Cardinal’s aura and considering the consistency of the situations he was met with it, there wouldn’t be much drastic changes happening anyway. But watching Yeosang he noticed the subtle change in the tones as it flared up and dimmed down, the boy definitely struggling against the pressure in his task.

Once his vision got past the shining gold filter, the elusive aurora of matching hues each person would usually hold was there just more metallic than normal. Yeosang’s colors were a variety of pinks, something Yunho hadn’t seen in a while. The rose gold was pleasant to the view, he thought fondly.

He wondered what type of colors his villain counterpart had, the invisible guy. The psych didn’t think his aura appeared even when they touched, if it did he must’ve been in too much of a panic to pay attention to it. He comically thought of what type of answer he’d get if he texted the other asking about it as he munched on his lunch.

‘Hey, I’m curious about what color your aura is, do you by any means know why I can’t see it?’ It’s not like he could just say that, right? Well, not that he had anything to lose with it, at least not that he could think of.

They didn’t exchange any messages since Hongjoong started going after The Cardinal and it seemed clear that the other wanted no contact with them. But by now that it was evident that Yunho couldn’t convince Hongjoong to back off maybe he should try sending something.

For an enemy, the invisible boy didn’t seem as vicious as one would expect. His memory of their last encounter was fuzzy already, reaching over a couple of months since, but the other gave him such a soft impression.

Unlike his roommate and the red clad villain, Yunho would much rather talk this out if he could, not into the fights at all and he could guess his villainous counterpart must feel the same. If only Yunho could see his aura maybe he’d have a more accurate sense of his intentions with the way he tried talking to him at first. Well, it all depended on the villain’s objective, he guessed.

Not that the other would have an answer for his initial question either way.

It was rather difficult separating the world he saw from the world that the other powerful people lived in. Finally there were people around him going through the same, yet each of their struggles was entirely unique to each other. It was comforting and depressing at the same time.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the loud sound of metal hitting the floor. The barista he formerly had his eyes on just dropped a tray full of drinks, the drinks he had been struggle up until now to prepare now spilled all over the floor.

The boy himself was slightly shaking, looking down and Yunho didn’t need to see the colorful contour or smell the scent of rain to recognise the signs that he was close to crying. He watched as the other took a deep breath and crouched down to grab the tray.

As he made through the motions to come up and set it down before coming back to pick up the cups a girl with the same uniform came. She placed a hand on his shoulder stopping him and he froze in place, discomfort seeping from him.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll clean this up real quick I swe-” Yeosang started apologizing, stammering through his worlds. The boy looked rather fragile at that moment, still holding on but about to burst under the pressure of the job.

“No, no don’t worry. How about you go and take a breather? It’s okay, we’ll just clean this up and re-do everything for you.” The girl spoke softly trying to calm him down with a sweet motherly tone and Yunho assumed she must’ve been the one in charge by the sheer tiredness coming from her.

She gesticulated with her hands a lot as she spoke and even though the feelings he received were an abstract concept Yunho was sure he could tell precisely every time the boy’s heart rate increased as her fingers got just a bit too close for comfort to him. The difference was subtle, a spike in anxiety that was piled up onto even more of the same feeling, but both layers inherently different in nature.

“But…” He tried to protesting, but got cut off quickly.

“We’re all stressed, Yeosang. Don’t let it get to you, okay? Just take a break and come back when you’re feeling better. Like this you aren’t gonna be able to do anything.” The lady said, more commanding and less brightly than before, letting her exhaustion slip through slightly.

Yeosang seemed to give up at that, shoulders slumping as he turned away.

Yunho watch as he left the place through the side door into the alley next to it. He looked back at his half eaten bagel for a second not feeling so hungry anymore, he just felt like he had to do something after going through that whole overwhelming emotional trainwreck with him.

As he walked out the little bell rang and the younger looked up at him, their eyes meeting briefly. He look extra tiny crouched down besides the door looking up at him with teary eyes shining under the sunlight, red around the corners. He looked away quickly and didn’t look back as if Yunho would just disappear if he didn’t look at him.

The boy sniffled and brought his hand to his face to wipe away the tears threatening to fall. The psych noticed that it was the first he saw him with his gloves off, the piece of clothing hanging on his tight as he fidgeted with his bare hands trying to calm his breathing.

“Hey” Yunho kneeled down in front of him, calling out gently as possible.

The other looked at him again and his arm moved on his own to touch his shoulder as an instinct, skinship being his go to for comforting. It was dumb of him, doing the only thing he knew for sure would worsen the situation, but he hadn’t thought it through.

“Don’t touch me!” the boy yelled out distancing himself as much as he could, startling the taller. He fell downwards, now sitting on the floor. Through the surface that his hands touched to support himself a golden handprint spread as he tried to scoot further away to be able to stand up.

“No, wait, look! I know. I know about your power.” Yunho started talking rushedly with his hands up in the air, knowing he fucked up and desperate to not scare the boy away even more.

That made Yeosang freeze and Yunho took the chance to try and defuse the situation, speaking in a more hushed cooing tone. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay even if I touch you, because I have one too. Trust me.”

Yeosang didn’t look too sure about it looking at him like he was crazy, a terrified expression gracing his face, but Yunho took it as a good sign that he had stopped and not bolted yet.

“I’m like you.” Yunho continued now slowly standing up and bending down, offering his hand to the other. “You’re not gonna hurt me, I swear.”

He left his hand hanging there, patiently waiting to see if he would take it. Yunho wasn’t like Hongjoong that naturally gave people he cared about space till they’d go looking for him themselves, nor as selective of such people for that matter.

Yunho was more pushy and impatient wanting to help right away, maybe because the problem was way more apparent to him, affecting him as much as the next person, but he learned a thing or two from the other. As much as his power was so invasive he himself shouldn’t be.

“It’s okay” He looked the other in the eyes, nodding in reassurance and motioning with his hand. The other hesitated for a moment way too long and the psych almost gave in, his back starting to hurt from waiting like that.

Before a defeated sigh could escape his lips however Yeosang moved, slowly reaching up to him. Yunho pulled him up, helping him stand up and letting go of his hand to show his palm.

“See?” he asked with a comforting smile while holding his hand in the air for the other to inspect.

“How?” Yeosang asked rushing to grasp his hand again, not believing his eyes.

“I can… Stop other powers.” He spoke hesitantly. No matter how long it passed since he first started talking to Hongjoong about his power, he still hated saying it out loud. It looked like he could sympathize with the smaller boy on that at least. “As long as I’m touching you, you won’t be able to use yours.”

Yeosang eyes widened even more if that was possible, bringing a second hand to hold onto Yunho’s massive one, looking at them with what he assumed was wonder by the tingling feeling surrounding them.

“How… how did you know?” Yeosang asked slowly without taking his eyes of their interlaced hands, confusing the older. When he didn’t get an answer he clarified. “About my power I mean. How did you know I had one?”

“I can see things normal people can’t, like auras and such.” Yunho replied, his voice lowering. “People like us are easier to distinguish for me.”

The younger looked up at his face finally, brow scrunched up. Yunho guessed he was intrigued, but he couldn’t quite tell with the other holding his hand and consequently muting him senses.

The bell rang again interrupting the charged moment, another attendant clocking out and coming out to tell Yeosang to come back and replace them. Yunho was left alone as the other went back inside, the other’s eyes looking distraught at having to let go of his hands and put back his gloves, but nonetheless abiding to it while excusing himself.

✧  ⇀ ༄

Slowly and lazily Wooyoung opened his eyes again, arms wrapped around his waist reminding him of where he was. They hadn’t gotten past half of the first season of whatever series San had picked before he crashed. San acted accordingly, laying them down and spooning him into a comfortable and dreamless much needed nap.

As he stirred the arms clutched to him tighter, San’s nose nuzzling the crook of his neck and letting out a protesting whine right onto his ear still wanting to stay deep asleep. With a sight Wooyoung settled against him again.

He didn’t expect to make many friends outside his dance crew when he first moved there. He didn’t work and he didn’t study, dance was something serious for him and to be honest he foolish thought he wouldn’t ever be needing anyone else at that time of his life.

However now he was glad he had met San, how they clicked so well and practically felt like each other’s missing piece at that point. They were comfortable around each other, never needing to filter their words and were there to support each other. They didn’t need to be embarrassed or even ask for anything, the other was always there to provide whatever the other needed maybe even before they knew they need it.

But there was always this thin line that they never crossed. Or rather he never crossed, San always seemed to be one step over it looking back to see if Wooyoung followed him, and taking that step back when he didn’t.

They went out clubbing to unwind pretty often, having fun, getting drunk and hooking up, but they never had that talk about what they were to each other. Sometimes they were best friends, sometimes they were more. Most of the time they just felt like home to each other and that was enough, no need to label it, no need to make a move. Most of the time it was enough. Not always, he thought to himself melancholic.

“Wooyoung?” San asked from above. From above?

With a startle Wooyoung sat up.

“Did you fall from the couch?” he continued asking, voice husky sounding still half asleep.

He was now sitting on the floor, a second ago completely laying on the carpet.

He didn’t notice. His power activated and he didn’t noticed. It had been years since that happened.

When his power first started showing itself it was a common occurrence to drop things because his hands weren’t solid, to wake up under his bed, to fall through a fence he was leaning against. As if he wasn’t really there, as if he stopped existing for a second.

The thief didn’t like it, that feeling. He put in so much effort into controlling that power, to make it his own and prove to himself he was more than just a weird glitch in the universe.

He was there, he existed .

To lose control like that was miserable. He raised his hand to push his hair off his eyes and the taunting golden speckles sparkled on his skin like crystallized freckles.

Damned be that golden hero and damned be Choi San.

A knock on the door was heard and San got up with a sigh.

“Seonghwa?” he heard the other ask, voice far away. Wooyoung didn’t notice he had moved all the way to the door, deep in that state where he is aware of being zoned out but not quite able to come back from it. He was feeling like trash and being alone felt like a better idea right now than it did that morning.

He took the cue the newcomer stranger had given him and run to grab his stuff ready to ditch the place, mumbling to San he needed to go and passing through them both without looking back.

༄ ⇀ ✧

Yunho found himself sat on a booth at the cafe about to have a serious talk regarding powers once again. He hoped this wouldn’t become a recurring situation. At least this time both of them had their share of explaining to do and he drew comfort from that as he stirred a pack of sugar into his bitter drink, waiting for the other to start his break.

Although Yunho was worried the barista would start to avoid him after he outed both of their secrets, Yeosang surprised him, having almost immediately agreed to sit down and talk to him on a more peaceful time.

He seemed keen on the idea even and the taller could easily guess why. The front the boy put up had the psych expecting him to be more prideful, but he too would be desperate for help if it was his case. Yunho was glad the other saw such hope in him, that made everything easier and the prospect of having someone else like him around was admittedly exciting.

Yeosang appeared after a few minutes of waiting, apron still wrapped around his waist and the psych could feel his anxiety. The younger sat down across from him awkwardly, quietly waiting for Yunho to start his interrogatory.

It was weird to be in that role this time around, to be the one directing the witch hunt, but if it was gonna be this way he was hoping to at least make the other feel more comfortable than when Yunho was in his place. A plate with a piece of chocolate cake was pushed towards the unexpecting boy with a small smile, his courtesy as Yunho had seen the other munching on that dessert often, which was received with a meek thanks and the scent of appreciation.

He seemed to have chosen the right gift, the psych was good at that knowing all too well the familiar smell of strong vanilla extract and the pastel yellow hue that flared up amidst the other’s aura.

“So you’re fighting that infamous thief, right?” He started trying to sound not too serious while the other pushed away the plastic wrapping with his fork.

“Yes, I’m the one going after Mist.” Yeosang answered finally meeting his eyes. He sounded confident on that, hopefully a sign of him being willing to open up.

“Then you’re the one people are calling Stardust. What does your power do exactly?” Yunho asked going straight to the point, hoping that to take that out of the way as soon as possible would be the best way to go about it.

“Everything I touch turns into gold.” Yeosang answered reluctantly after a moment of silently avoiding his eyes yet again, the window view seeming very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well, ain’t that a predicament.” Yunho answered voice light, not being able to stop a small smile that came on his face as he instantly thought of how quick he could escape his college debt if he had a power like that instead of lamely seeing extra blurry colors and getting headaches from emotionally charged strangers.

“Haha, very funny. It might sound good, but I can assure you it’s not.” The other replied flatly, not pleased with Yunho’s reaction.

“I’m guessing that, like Midas’ curse in disguise, you can’t control it?” The psych asked, already knowing the answer. As convenient as it would be to become rich using it, there were numerous stories in history advising to the danger of something like that. They were usually a metaphor for greediness, but they worked just as well in the literal sense in that case.

“You would be right.” Yeosang agreed focused at picking on his cake now, his tone lowering making Yunho having to strain to hear it almost as if he was ashamed of that fact.

Yunho didn’t think that feeling was shame per se, but he couldn’t quite place it as the bitter matcha-like taste coming from it filled his mouth and nose even as he sipped his caramel drink.

“How do you… use it? To fight I mean. I saw it on tv, but I couldn’t have guessed it from that at all.” Yunho asked giving up on trying to read the boy any deeper than he already had.

“It’s hard to explain, I can… Spread the gold. Almost like an infectious disease.” He sad, looking grim, clearly not fond of his abilities. “I can pull it back as well, although how easy that is depends on the material. Air is a particularly easy medium to pull it from. I touch the air with a bit more intent and then just push the gold through and back. It’s not as long ranged and quick as it would be if I was using the floor for example, because it takes a lot of effort to turn it but it’s the cleanest method.”

Yunho had some trouble wrapping his head around air itself becoming gold, but he could comprehend the general idea. It was a creative use for it and, more than King Midas, the boy reminded him of Medusa from the way he managed to weaponize his power to turn his opponent into stone from afar.

“So using your power depends on the surface you’re touching…” Yunho asked, his brain racing to understand all benefits and restrictions that entailed, like rules he’d have to remember to play a game.

“I still don’t quite understand it myself, but from what I’ve gathered it’s more about the states of matter. Liquids are almost impossible, gases takes effort to turn but are easy to revert and solids… Solids are turned easy and hard to revert. That’s why I need to take this so serious.” he explain looking at his gloved hands.

“What about The hunter, what type of power does he has?” Yeosang asked suddenly, trying to change the subject.

“Huh?” It caught Yunho off guard, the mention of a third person.

“Didn’t you say you mention you were with the guy that's fighting the Cardinal? I assume is something with electricity from what I keep seeing online.” The other responded, not noticing the cause of his confusion.

So Hongjoong was being called The Hunter, huh. For someone that spent so much time online the psych didn’t really bother with news about Hongjoong too much since he had front row tickets to his stunts already. An interesting name that still made no sense for him, he made a mental note to pick up on his slack and look for the meaning behind it later.

It was true that most weapons Yunho had provided him with had electricity as the base damage provider. They were the easiest to adjust with his power and knowledge and the most humane route even though he was starting to have to up his creativity lately on ways to not do harm and still appease Hongjoong’s grudge.

It was the hero that wanted to not get carried away with the weapons to start with, now it was him that tried to upkeep that value.

“He doesn’t have one, he fights using mine.” Yunho answered nonchalantly, not really thinking about how confusing that must’ve sound.

“What?” In return the boy looked utterly confused as expected.

“Most of what you see are normal custom designed weapons, I’m basically his tech guy. He goes and get the glory like Batman or James Bond while I stay in the lab and do all the hard support work.” Yunho started explaining, starting by his gadgets which were always a more exciting topic for him. “About my power it’s a long story, but simplifying it I can infuse objects with it and propagate its effect so that’s how he doesn’t get affected by The Cardinal. It’s easier to show than explaining so I brought gifts!”

“Gifts?” Yeosang was finally getting it till the last part totally derailed him again.

“There’s a few, first I got you these! These aren’t too special but I thought I’d take them out of the way first.” Yunho said excitedly as he pulled the first item from his backpack.

“Gloves?” The other didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that.

“The ones you use seem slippery, so I asked my roommate about it and he gave me these.  He comes around here a lot I’m pretty sure you must know him. He made them himself, because as he said ‘most non-slippery gloves are ugly and he wouldn’t let a friend use something like that’. ” Yunho explained, speaking in a mockingly solemn tone to imitate Hongjoong’s nagging voice. “You just need to check if the size fits, but I think he got it alright.” Yeosang stared at him in disbelief, but Yunho didn’t seem affected by it as he focused on looking through his bag.

“Now for the cool part, I also have this.” Yunho continued excitedly pulling a piece of cloth and handing it to the younger. “It’s the second one I’ve made, so I’m confident it should work, but it would be good to test it before using it for real.”

Yeosang unwrapped the cloth to find a tiny star charm. He looked back at the other uncertain what to do with it, but the other only looked back at him excited like a huge puppy. He took it out of the cloth clumsily between his gloved fingers and held it up to the light to look at it better.

“Try touching it.” Yunho finally spoke. “You know, without the glove.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows scrunched up at the idea, anxiety filling Yunho’s mouth with a metallic taste and making he settle down a bit with his excitement. He always got carried away when it came to his inventions, probably rushing things a bit too much, but Yeosang’s aura was already dimming from the second hand exposure to the charm so he wasn’t too worried.

“Here, I’ll hold your hand if you’re scared. That way nothing can go wrong.” He said offering his hand over the table.

Yeosang looked hesitant, eyes going between the outstretched hand and his gloved ones, and Yunho couldn’t blame him as both of them seemed to be in completely different paces with the taller going too fast and him still catching up and yet to get comfortable with what was happening.

He half regretted not taking things slower as he patiently waited for the other to react, but eventually Yeosang did made the motion to take of one of his gloves swallowing loudly.

He approached his bare palm to Yunho’s hand still hesitating to touch anything, much more a human hand like that, letting the older do the final move to grasp it. The psych held onto the back of his hand tightly as he took the charm and placed it on his palm, proceeding to pull on his fingers to close the boy’s hand into a fist around it.

“You can’t really see what it does while holding onto me, so I’m gonna let go,” He started speaking and Yeosang eyes widened like saucers at that, clearly scared at the prospect, and Yunho rushed to continue and correct himself as he rubbed his thumb on the back of the other’s hand reassuringly. “but it’s gonna be okay I promise, just hold onto that charm like this and I’ll check if it’s working.”

He waited for a sign that the other was okay with letting go and when Yeosang finally nodded shaking slightly he did it slowly, lifting his hand in the air between them and distancing his own hand from it. As expected the psych couldn’t see his aura anymore.

“It’s working! You can safely touch anything now, try it!” Yunho said with a smile all too abruptly for the tension filled moment, catching Yeosang off guard again.

”Rest your hand against the table, you’ll see.” The older tried instructing, but the other skeptically went for the tiny dessert plate bumping it with his knuckles. After years with such a power he knew better than to touch a whole table. He did the motion a few times again, his brow scrunched up in confusion. He looked back at Yunho for an explanation after softly bumping the table with hesitance and nothing happening.

“See? As long as you have that your power wont work. That way you can take a break from using those gloves! It doesn’t last forever but I can just refill it when it’s done.” Yunho said mindlessly while taking the charm back and helping him put his gloves back on, worried now that the loose tiny piece might fall off the perplexed boy’s hand.

“If you put it into a bracelet or a necklace it should still work and even on your pockets it should have some effect. Your power is risky though, so I’d rather you kept it touching skin if possible for maximum effect.” He continued explaining as he wrapped it in cloth again to hand it over.

Yeosang didn’t let any emotion show, the way he was now quietly thinking and processing his words reminded Yunho of a statue, a freeze frame in front of his eyes. At first glance his words although polite were always spoken in a raspy tone and his attitude seemed rough around the edges reminding him of a small hedgehog. That was Yunho’s first impression of Yeosang, cute but spiky and defensive.

However, even though his exterior seemed to not let out anything that told him otherwise, Yunho could sense how the boy marvelled at his gifts now laid on the table with fondness, grateful for it, and how he was slowly warming up to him as his aura swayed calmly in muted pastel tones. He was a good kid, a bit aloof and awkward but just the type that made the psych want to take care off him.

He knew how hard it was to do this on his own and it made him wish to be there for the younger from now on. To give him the help and the guidance he never had with his power.

Not that he had all the answers for his problems or even any knowledge about how to control the other’s power, and that was probably what he needed the most, but if Yunho could relieve his burden even if a slightly bit he wanted to do it.

He thought he was alone in this, in being an outcast, an impostor trying to fitting in around normal people. But he wasn’t and, even though it hadn’t been too long since they met and they weren’t even that close yet, now he just wanted to make sure Yeosang knew that too. Knew that he wasn’t alone.

“Finally, one last thing. I have a proposal for you from The Hunter himself.” Yunho spoke, determined to have Yeosang under his wing.

What he was about to say wasn’t from the hero at all, it was all Yunho, but it worked perfectly for Hongjoong as The Cardinal’s power wasn’t like Mist’s physical one, it would make it all easier and then they could finally stop playing around with this dangerous situations.

“So now we are talking business.” The younger hero’s warming demeanor changed at that almost at the flicker of a beat and the confidence he had when talking about the thief before reappeared. It almost felt like now he was no longer speaking with Yeosang but with Stardust, bringing his hero’s persona to negotiate.

“Yes, don’t feel pressured to accept it on my behalf or anything, it’s really just an idea.” The older replied, not wanting to seem overbearing. “Before I continue though, he wanted to ask why did you decide to go after Mist.”

“My parents work at… that business. A few of the stores that were targeted were theirs.” Yeosang answered, seemingly uncomfortable to talk about it.

So his parents were rich, the older thought and at the back of his mind he wondered why he would be working part time at a coffee shop if that was the case, but he knew better than to ask such an insensitive question when they barely really knew each other.

“Every time it happens the security takes the blame and gets replaced.” The younger continued explaining sounding sorrowful. “A lot of people get hurt trying to go after him, only to get fired when they fail. It might not seem like a big deal, but it’s not only the owners that suffer from these thefts. After seeing the aftermath I just couldn’t stay still any longer. I had to do something.”

‘Can’t stay still’, ‘had to do something’, Yunho heard that speech before and he still couldn’t relate. When he got caught up in this situation his first instinct was not to get outraged at the injustice, it was more like ‘omg i’m gonna die i gotta get outta here why my body isn’t moving???’ or something along those lines.

He only really had the urge to do something when he knew Hongjoong was involved, but it was more the fact that his conscience was heavy from it being a person he knew personally and so it felt like his responsibility.

He wasn’t kind or good enough to feel the need to fight back for someone else even when he had the perfect power to do it. He couldn’t think of a way that he could properly use it even if he wanted, not being a good fighter like his roommate.

That answer hit the psych into a self reflective state which he didn’t appreciate much, but Hongjoong would be satisfied with it for sure and that was enough for him.

“And The Cardinal? Have you been avoiding him? I imagine it would be problematic if he could control someone with your type of power.” Yunho asked curious about the other’s opinion on the villain.

“You’d think so, but his commands don’t affect me. I have no idea why.” The other answered nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t really care to fight against him anyway. Him and I aren’t that different in the end, both going after criminals. The only difference is that he’s going for easy prey.”

Okay, that part his best friend wouldn’t approve, but they could agree to disagree for all Yunho cared. It was a grey area. Hongjoong hadn’t seen much problem with diamonds getting stolen either. All of them, heroes and villains, had grey motives and their own set of morals.

Hongjoong was better than him, fearless and with the will to do god, but even him had his actions tainted with his own need to prove himself, to overcome the insecurity that being helpless sprung on him.

The psych could see both sides. He didn’t get controlled and didn’t have a strong sense of justice, but he also felt the emotion that the mental binding struck in people afterwards. If it wasn’t constantly shoved in his face he probably wouldn’t have thought about it otherwise and probably would’ve share Yeosang’s sentiment.

“I see. Well, here’s the proposition. Considering Mist’s power making him almost impossible to imprison, I would think it’d be convenient to have something to nullify his powers, am I right?” Yunho rushed to change subjects, not wanting to delve deeper into that discussion.

Something clicked for him as he thought about what the other would need against the thief. Why hasn’t he gotten caught already if the other could just turn him into metal?

“In fact I would go as far as to guess that your power isn’t being enough to hold him down as it is, otherwise you’d have him turned into a statue already.” He continued, throwing in that  gamble to persuade the other.

“Yes, you would be right. Partially.” Yeosang’s stoic front flickered a bit, the apprehension he wouldn’t let show on his face unmistakably flaring up his aura and standing the hairs on Yunho’s neck. “I don’t doubt I could easily win and get this over with if I wasn’t limiting myself, but I don’t know how much Mist’s own power can protect him before I start to do permanent damage.”

“We were thinking it would be best to join forces. Whether you support the cardinal or not, you have to agree the way he manipulates so many innocent bystanders is getting out of hand. With your power The Cardinal would have to at the very least rethink his methods and lower his scale.” Yunho finally laid out his proposal, starting with what he expected was a decent motive to team up.

“And what do I gain with it?” Yeosang questioned, unexpectedly not eager on the idea still.

“We would help you as well. I can make something with my power that can render Mist unable to escape, but you wouldn’t be able to handle it without losing your own powers. My friend would be willing to backup you up and vice versa, both of you get some help defeating the enemy. It’s a win/win situation.” Yunho answered, feeling like what he was saying would make the other less nervous, yet it didn’t seem to be enough.

Yeosang was uneasy and Yunho couldn’t guess why by just reading the air. He didn’t want to pressure the younger after progressing so much before, so he tried reassuring him with a smile.

“I understand if you need more time to consider, even if you decide it wouldn’t work for you it’s fine. It’s okay to change your mind later too and I would be willing to help you with anything you need either way. We just thought it would make things easier to fight together.” The older tried in a reassuring tone, a tentative smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I- I don’t want to turn anyone into a statue.” Yeosang said meekly, finally clicking for Yunho why he had gotten so nervous.”That’s why it’s better for me to not go against someone like him.”

Ah, I said something like that didn’t I? , Yunho thought catching himself. He didn’t even realize such words left his lips, not really thinking about it as he said them. The other couldn’t control it and was already holding back to not hurt the thief, that was insensitive of him.

“Ah, yes, of course, I know! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that, I know you don’t.” Yunho hurried to apologize now sorrowful, smile dropping instantly. “I get it, really.”

An awkward silence stood for a few moments as he thought up a way mend the situation, to lift up the mood that made his senses so uncomfortable and steer away from this lingering buzzing in his ear and shadowing dark colors.

“I refuse to use my powers on someone that can’t defend themselves against it.” Yeosang said finally with a sigh, before he could act. “Nonetheless, it’s a good opportunity to have some way to trap Mist like that and I hate being in debt, so if you’d still have a use for me without involving direct hits to that villain I would be willing to strike a deal.”

Yunho’s face that had since became a pout directly at his own self pushed up into a smile once again, clearly excited by this development.

“But with one condition.” The other was quick to cut off before he got too hyped up. “I don’t want anyone to know I have this power. If The Hunter doesn’t know already then don’t tell him my identity.”

“He doesn’t and I won’t tell, don’t worry.” Yunho replied quickly practically bouncing off his seat.

“Also I’ll follow along with whatever you need me to do, but regarding Mist I plan to keep doing my own thing so don’t expect to just take over my target. ” Yeosang continued laying down his boundaries. Yunho made a face at that, quickly covering it up but it didn’t went unnoticed by him. ”Is that gonna be a problem?”

“No, no I’ll be sure to tell him that. He’s just… naggy I guess? My friend is the type to take teaming up seriously, so I can imagine he’d be pretty opinionated and he’ll probably want to make sure your not doing anything too risky for yourself. Without his help at least. And he’s a very good strategist, so I’d listen to his nagging once in a while.” Yunho trailed off imagining how Hongjoong would feel about that.  

“But overall I think you two are gonna get along well, I wouldn’t be too worried.” He ended dismissively.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Yeosang said sighing again. He looked at his watch “We can have a try out period. See if pairing up actually changes anything. Now I need to go back, my break has been over for fifteen minutes already.”

“Deal.” Yunho proclaimed as he reached out for a napkin to scribble on. They’ve been talking for almost an hour already and he still felt like the amount of things he wanted to clear up weren’t half sated, but they manage to cover the basics and for that he was happy.

“Here’s my number. I don’t know how long the charm I gave you will last with your type of power, so I probably should check up on it around a week from now if you use it regularly.” Yunho said hurriedly as the other got up.

Yeosang took the paper with a final nod before going back towards the cafe’s staff door. Yunho’s drink had been finished for a while now, tiny coffee grains sticking to the end of his cup that swirled around as he shook it.

He hoped that this ‘alliance’ would work out. That they wouldn’t get hurt playing around with something they didn’t understand and that it would all end soon so they could just be normal college students living normal lives, where finals was their biggest problems and he was the only one having to worry about powers’ side effects again.

✧

The Hunter wasn’t too pleased with not knowing his new partner identity, but with Yunho’s vow of approval and the fact that they had virtually the same goal appeased his worries for the time being.

He did not waste time in bringing about a matching costume for the mysterious hero, very different from his own style-wise, but enough of the same in essence to be recognized as an uniform.

The hero claimed that sending a clear message that they had each other to rely on now was safer and since the psych agreed he didn’t point out how much of an excuse to sew a second piece in this costume collection this was.

The dark costume passed by Yunho hands, the puppy-like boy very excited to work on its gadgets with a sparkled curiosity over what he could do that enhanced or complimented the other’s powers.

When the stylist handed it out asking for his blessing on it, Yunho didn’t mention that he shouldn’t “bless” it or else it’d be counterproductive. It was definitely interesting for him to have another person with powers around, having to think on how to circumvent his own power at times and yet make it useful on others.

The younger seemed to not be affected by The Cardinal’s voice for some reason they needed to look into late which left only the invisible guy as a hindrance to him. He also wanted to test so many things about his own powers practically and not over the items he created, yet he knew better than be pushy with the other boy, still sensitive and scared of his own self.

The gloves turned out to be the right thing to gift him, although redundant with the star around his wrist he still wore them. Whether it was because he didn’t trust the charm, was scared it would run out or just felt uncomfortable without them after so long the psych wasn’t sure, but he seemed to cherish it and it did work better than his last pair of gloves.

He later learned the original ones were lined with gold and now he was glad to have put so much work into the inside lining of the gifted ones. He wasn’t sure of the other’s power then but understood enough to know it was necessary, making it with lasting material that would last longer but not practical enough for any of his other projects by the amount of effort and energy that went into it.

While he kept everyone’s identities a secret, it didn’t stop Hongjoong and Yeosang to meet naturally in their daily lives. They went to that coffee shop often before the new employee showed up and it was just Yunho’s luck that he had gotten a few times alone with him before his friend was back to tag along.

Hongjoong might’ve not known the shy boy’s secret or anything about him truly, nonetheless it didn’t take him more than a few interactions to all but adopt him just like he did with Yunho almost a whole year before.

The boy just stroke his protective side, a side Yunho noticed came out often around his few close friends and he couldn’t contest it as the same sentiment seemed to have awakened in him when it came to Yeosang.

If his best friend actually knew that the other was actually the latest addition to his small team he might’ve weeped in pride with how close their justice speeches were similar, regardless of their contrasting views.