#basically my answer is ''well yes but actually no''

[erralinadventures]

okay so, I saw this, and decided I was bored again(I'm always bored), and so I shall answer this for Kinnio! He is the only character in Erralin I actually played as a DND character, from level 1.

Yes. Though trauma is usually not something he considers.

Usually saving them from a physical threat, like a dragon or bandits.

Fun Fact: Kinnio is an Illeist. Meaning he refers to himself in the third person, so usually it sounds like he's talking about someone else if you don't know him. But, to the actual question. He would probably be like, 'Kinnio is a super cool warrior king who can vanquish any foe set in front of him'. or just 'Kinnio super strong and cool.'

They percieve themselves well, not really having any problems with themselves, except that he could just be a better warrior.

He stabs into the air a few times, yelling something random.

Thunderstorms. It creates fun battle backgrounds

1994 Toyota Corolla. Why? I've seen too many memes recently.

Eh. I'd say pretty decisive, considering in the campaign he was played in, he made a lot of...decisions. (Nuking a city, nuking a giant stone mech, challenging a demon king, war crimes, buying a tavern, hatching literally every egg he found, including a tarrasque egg.)

Like the entire menu. Not a scrap of that food is being wasted either.

Normally by messing with his hands(Cracking his knuckles, tapping his fingers, cracking his fingers.)

Romantically, he will immediately just be the biggest gentleman whenever he is speaking to them. Also he likes carrying people. Platonically, he'll just be really nice to you and treat you as an equal. Or superior.

I'll just say, there is probably going to be a dead dragon by the end of it.

Silver. While gold is more valuable, he does like the color of silver and normally has his equipment made in that color or with that metal.

He honestly could not care. A little lie isn't one that will hurt anyone.

Strangely, he does like weddings. He doesn't like the people much, but he will usually bring the biggest gift. As a King of Erralin(Modern Day), it isn't unusual for him to appear at weddings, even if it's a commoner wedding.

He is the target demographic for most modern men care products. So like wood and other 'manly' things.

we love the fact you have to specify. Anyways, He likes apples and melon.

Uh, I don't know? I've never heard of this scale, so I'm going to just....skip it. Though it was an interesting google search.

Fighting, and any of the ancient pokemon, or Galarian Zapdos.

White Chocolate.

I don't know any, so I apologize.

He is incredibly loyal and will fight to the death for an ally he trusts.

His trust is hard to gain, and one of the easiest ways is proving a capable warrior.

No, because he can't read...sometimes. Sometimes he can. Depends on if the book has pictures.

I again, have no idea. I think I'm just stupid.

He would love the drift answer, but yeah, he would just pull the lever. That is, if he isn't allowed to just stop the trolley himself.

Fight his way back up. Failure is not an option.

He usually works out or finds one of his many pets, commonly his dragon, Crimson.

I might as well give up, I don't like not answering questions.

He typically just does whatever the hell you want him to do. He is basically just going to just dedicate himself to you.

The Chaos. Honestly, he is very consistent, but also chaotic, my DM has expressed since day 1 that Kinnio was his favourite character in the campaign, and he has tried killing him off ever since, to no avail.

I'm going to assume you mean a different person's action, and not at all. Canonically, King Kinnio killed a shop owner for retaliating against one of the party members(He also had no idea the party member was in the wrong, he just heard someone yell for help and jumped into action. The party member basically manipulated him into it.)

Not very. Usually, he just acts then thinks later.

No. Especially with his party, there is only one person he trusts more than anyone, and would only talk to him about his plans, if he had any at the time.

Alcohol. Wine, Beer, or any monster drop. He would also be the only character(That I can remember) that you can give old weapons to.

The most beautiful face any person has every seen, next. But really though, of the people he would know, it would probably be a royal he met in the campaign he was a PC in.

A poppy, as in the world wars they were a symbol of a battle fought.

For every character(Except Sparta) I use a random name generator and alter the name slightly.

Meat loversx10. It's probably going to be like 90% meat.

He eats a lot, due to his abilities draining his energy. A lot of it is unhealthy eating.

Wish. He has casted it like 8 times between levels 13 and 16.

It wouldn't really make sense unless you played the campaign, but the royal mentioned before, her husband, Sparta(He was thrown into the campaign hastily bc the DM didn't want to come up with a shopkeep), arnold schwarzenegger(He was also in the campaign)

Himself. He usually doesn't think about what other people might want unless they mention it directly.

DND Ask Meme but it's random questions I've asked other players apropos of nothing within the last 6 months

Does your PC believe it’s possible to save someone?

What does saving a person involve?

How would your PC describe themselves?

How do they perceive themselves?

What is your PC’s idle animation?

What weather does your PC prefer? Why?

So if your PC had a car what kind of car would it be

How decisive is your PC?

If your PC rolled through a McDonald’s what would they order 

How does your PC fidget?

How does your PC show affection?

If your PC had to set up a date, what would they plan for it?

What’s your PCs favorite color

How does your PC feel about white lies?

How does your PC feel about marriage? Weddings?

What scents do you associate with your PC? 

What are your PCs favorite fruits (not including gay people) 

Where would your PCs fall on the futch scale? 

What is your PC’s Pokemon Gym Leader type and Signature Pokemon?

What type of chocolate do they prefer? 

What tarot would your PC be? 

What is your PC’s #1 personality strength?

What is your PC’s #1 personality flaw? 

If your PC found a book that detailed their whole life, from birth to whatever death they’ll have, would they read it and why? 

What are your PC’s charm point(s)! 

How would your PC answer the trolley problem? 

When your PCs hit rock bottom, what do they do?  

When your PCs want comfort, what do they seek out? 

Please describe your PC’s romantic type 

How does your PC flirt? 

What’s your favorite part of playing your PC? 

How much does your PC think about their actions before they execute them? 

How considerate is your PC? 

Is your PC an effective communicator? What is their communication style? 

If your PC was a dating option in a farming simulator (a la harvest moon or stardew valley), what kind of items would they like? 

Your PC meets a trickster being whose face changes to the most beautiful face a person has ever seen. Whose face is your PC seeing? 

What flower represents your PC? 

How did you choose your PC’s name? 

What would your PC put on their pizza? 

What are your PC’s eating habits? 

Does your PC have a favorite spell, and if so, which? 

Who is your PC’s favorite NPC(s) and why?

When your PCs make decisions, who or what are they making those decisions on behalf of?

[milkywaybesties]

i wrote. many words. help. 1299. uhhhh

here you go! take some lhsau gay people! (more below the cut)

Jimmy was staring.

He couldn’t help it. Him and Scott were eating lunch, sitting where they normally did in the grass outside the school. Normally, no one else was around, but today some of the other kids were messing about outside. Skizz, BigB. And Tango.

The three were playing some game with sticks on the floor while they ate their lunches. Or at least that was Jimmy’s theory. He couldn’t see very well from where he was. Or maybe he could, if he had actually been paying attention. Instead, he was mesmerized by something else.

Tango was laughing.

And maybe, it wasn’t that normal that Jimmy was distracted so easily by one of his friends laughing. But Tango’s laugh just made him happy. The giant, unapologetic grin that came with it. The mischievous look on his face as he took the pile of sticks Skizz had accumulated. 

So maybe Jimmy was staring. Maybe it might’ve seemed weird. But Tango was never just some friend anyway. They were his rancher! One of his best friends. And sure, maybe when the two were squished together on the couch at the Halloween party, and he could feel just how warm Tango was, Jimmy was panicking a little bit, but that didn’t mean—

“Hello? Earth to my wonderful boyfriend?” A hand waived in front of his face. 

Jimmy turned to look at his partner. “Huh?”

Scott let out a light laugh and asked, “You haven’t been listening to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

“No, no, I was listening! You were saying, uhm… ah.”

“Uh huh,” Scott responded knowingly, “So, you and Tango, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy tried to play it off. How was he supposed to tell his boyfriend that he might’ve been crushing on another man? Really, Jimmy wasn’t being a good partner. Being mesmerized by someone else’s laugh. Sure, Tango was great, but Jimmy loved Scott too much to be acting like this. Like a cheater.

“You should ask him out. He’s cute. And a nice guy,” Scott suggested.

Jimmy was flabbergasted. Scott seemed genuine. But what sane person would tell their partner to ask another person out? He must have been joking. Or teasing.

But Scott never did seem sane anyway.

“Yeah, yeah…” Jimmy laughed, playing it off again, treating it as the joke it surely must have been.

“If you don’t ask him out I will,” Scott said deadpan, before seeing the confused look on his boyfriend’s face and continuing, “I’m serious. You ask him out or I will. I’ll get the bragging rights.”

“Wh- But, we’re already dating. What do you mean ‘ask Tango out?’”

“Well. You like Tango, clearly. I’m pretty confident he likes you back. So you should ask him out.”

Jimmy thought he understood now. This must be some sort of test. If he agrees, Scott breaks up with him.

Scott, clearly sensing his discomfort, asked a question with a smile on his face.

“Jimmy, do you know what polyamory is?”

“I think I’ve heard the word,” Jimmy answered, “But I’m not sure what it means. I think Joel said something about polyamory at one point?”

“Joel is definitely polyamorous,” Scott confirmed, “The man has some sort of harem, I swear.”

“What… what is polyamory?”

Scott’s smile widened. “Someone who is polyamorous is basically someone who wants to date multiple people at the same time,” he explained, “I’m polyamorous. I’ve had crushes while in relationships, and while I’ve never ended up dating two people simultaneously, I have considered it. And it seems like you might be, too.”

“Oh,” Jimmy responded, one sound worth a million thoughts and questions, “So… I’m allowed to like both you and Tango?”

“Definitely,” Scott reassured, “Actually, it might simplify things for the two of us a little bit. I love you, Jimmy, and I like Tango, too.”

“Really?” Jimmy said, shocked.

“Mhm,” his partner nodded, “He’s actually really cute.”

Jimmy sighed, “Right?! I swear, he laughs and I just… deflate.”

“Seriously,” Scott laughed.

“So,” Jimmy rerailed the conversation, “I might be… polyamorous?”

“Yes,” Scott said, “And if you want to date other people at the same time as me, I’m fine with it. As long as there is some discussion between us first.”

“Of course,” Jimmy agreed, “And… you can date other people too. That sounds good to me.”

The two were giggling at the awkward tone of Jimmy’s words when they heard an approaching voice.

“Hey guys!” Tango said with cheer, carrying his pile of sticks in his arms, “What are you two lovebirds talkificating about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining the concept of polyamory to Jimmy,” Scott said, with no shame.

“Scott! That was a private conversation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed in faux sympathy. “Anyway, Tango, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, we were gambling with sticks,” they said excitedly, “I won! If you can’t tell.”

“Oh, good job!” Scott began to subtly elbow Jimmy in the side, “What does winning sticks get you anyway?”

“Why, bragging rights of course! Also Skizz is driving me home for a month now. Of course, he would’ve done that anyway, but it’s funnier to say that it’s for the bet.”

“It always is,” Scott agreed, “But I would’ve gambled for something better. Maybe his firstborn.”

“Y- Yeah,” Tango laughed. “Problem is I’m basically Impulse and Skizz’s firstborn, so that would be a bit problematic.”

“Fair point,” they agreed, before turning the conversation in a completely different direction. “Jimmy has a question to ask you.”

“I do?!” Jimmy yelped. Scott looked at him expectantly. “Uhm- right, yeah! Tango, did you ever figure out what problems the math homework was supposed to be?”

“Oh yeah, I think it was—” Tango started to respond, before Scott cut him off.

“That was not the question I meant actually,” they corrected.

“Well, I’ve got no idea what question you do mean, then,” Jimmy lied. He was not asking Tango out. No way.

“Well, I’ll ask it then,” Scott said. “Tango, do you want to go out with me sometime?”

“Scott!” Jimmy shouted, panicked.

“Wh- huh?” Tango stammered, “Aren’t- aren’t you two- datificating? What do you mean? Me going out with you?”

“We are,” Scott said, “But we want to date you, too. Right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy realized they were too far into this to back out without making it worse. “Yeah, we would,” he admitted nervously, “You’re— you’re a really cool guy, Tango, and I didn’t know polyamory was a thing until like five minutes ago, but now that I know I can like you without feeling bad about it because of my relationship with Scott, I think— yeah.”

Tango seemed shocked and flustered.

“And I think you’re cute, too,” Scott flirted shamelessly, “I may not be as close with you as Jimmy is, but I can appreciate a kind and handsome person when I see one.”

Tango was blushing bright red now. Jimmy could almost feel the heat coming off of him. “You guys, you two— datificaters— want me to date you too?” After receiving two very eager nods, he continued, “I- I’d like that I think. I’ve liked you two for a while now, but I didn’t know if either of you was polyamorous, or if you liked me like that anyway, but if you are, and if you do… I think we could. Do something sometime.”

“Yeah!” Jimmy said excitedly, “We could… uhm. I’m not that great at date ideas.”

“We can figure something out,” Scott said, the bell ringing, signifying the end of lunch, “But for now, can we agree that the three of us can go out together sometime?”

A resounding and excited “Yes” came from his two companions, with wide smiles on their faces, before the three headed their separate ways to class, fantasizing about the date to come.

[klitzy-please]

Missing, But Not In Action

Leon Kennedy x Choir teacher! Reader

SFW; fluff: angst; not thoroughly proof read

Author’s Note: Haiii! Klitzy here! I’m so sorry if this seems a bit chopped, I’ve been busy and only had certain times to work on it! I hope y’all enjoy, and please put what y’all’s thoughts (and prayers) in the comments if comfortable enough to do so!

You pace back and forth, just waiting. You keep calling the DSO, but they keep telling you the same thing. ‘We have this under control, Y/N.’

You don’t believe them, you can’t believe them. If they had this under control, he’d be in your arms, kissing your face off before work, he’d be there helping you with breakfast as you brushed your hair and teeth. He’d just be there.

You tried calling his cell, but you still got that same result.

‘Hey, it's Leon, leave a message.’

Oh, how you hate his job.

You checked the clock, reading 6:30. Shit. If you stayed in that living room, you’d be even more late for work if you mopped in your living room any longer. You grab your bag and hurriedly rush out to your car, keys jingling as you trot hurriedly.

Getting into the metal box, you start the ignition and speed out of that driveway. You and Leon were lucky enough to find this cute little Victorian era house that had about an acre of land around it that served as your yard. The two of you wanted children, hell, you wanted to put. Anything in that yard. He even got you a puppy on your first anniversary of dating. The house was close enough to your job and it was basically out of your dreams. Your whole life was almost actually. Beautiful house, a hot and loving husband, a job you can’t get enough of, everything was perfect, other than what your husband does. for work.

You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing, you knew that if Leon got enough booze in him, he’d drunkenly cry about it to you, but right now, he wasn’t home. He wasn’t in your arms and he wasn’t drunk off of the new bottle of Jamison’s you bought initially for yourself.

Your train of thought was fought off by your phone ringing. It was hunnigan.

You pick up the phone hesitantly. “H-hunnigan..? Why are you calling me? Did something happen?” Your breath hitched in fear and anticipation.

You could hear her sigh “We found him… or at least a sign of him. I could be wrong, but it seems that we should be able to get connected to him soon.” Hunnigan swallowed hard. She was also a bit uneasy about this, but for different reasons.

“Well I don’t know if that’s a good thing… he should’ve been home by now.” Your eyes dart around as you park your car in the “teacher of the year’ spot. “Wait.. how do you know it's actually him?”

“Well, we don’t truly know. But what we do know is that it's in the area that he was sent to…” Hunnigan swallowed hard. “Look, I’m not supposed to say anything, but it’s Leon we are talking about. The mission was a domestic one. Ergo, he’s still in the states… We might be able to get something out of that…”

“You’re actually serious, right? Please tell me you are.” Your lips start to bleed from all of the nervous biting you’ve been doing.

“Yes, I am… I’ll get back to you once I have more information…” Hunnigan clears her throat. “How did you know it was me calling?”

You relax a bit. “I’ve been calling the DSO so much, they just gave me your personal number… I could ask you the same actually.”

Hunnigan chuckled. “Well, I looked through Leon’s emergency files… you were listed as the spouse there. Also, I’m not going to ask why they gave you my personal…”

“Noted… hey, I’ll get back to you later. Please tell me what all you can. I really can’t spend another night not knowing if he’s safe or not.” You tried to stable yourself and swallowed your tears to your best abilities.

The two of you bid your farewells and then hang up. Now, all you have to do is go clock in, check your mailbox, answer emails and get all of your music sheets organized for the 6 periods you teach in a day.

You sit down in your empty classroom in silence. You don’t even want to check your emails, your eyes dart to the pictures of Leon that sat on your desk that was encased in a cute metal frame. It was one of the first dates you ever had with him. You were looking for some vinyls to add to your collection and funny enough, Leon was in that same exact music store looking for some cds for his new (and soon to be totaled) car.

You can’t help but gain a bitter-sweet smile on your face.

Before you knew it, the bell had rung. It was homeroom day… yay.

The bell rang long and a group of kids started to pile in just as always. You sat down at the piano like you’ve done the past a decade you’ve been teaching here.

A tall, blonde kid walks into the class, eyeing you. He’s a junior if you are correct. He’s in your 6th period.

“Mrs. Kennedy?” The kid asks you.

Your mouth opens and then closes. “Uhm.. What's up ,sport?” You ask awkwardly.

He gives you a look before handing you a piece of paper. It’s a permission slip. You nod your head at him and he takes a seat in his respective spot. you can’t help but look at it, to be fair you forgot the kid’s name. It was something that sounded familiar enough.

You read the paper to see the kid’s name. Leo Kents.

L.K..

—————————————————————————————————————

‘L—Le—Leon-n-n!’ Leon’s comm rang as he tried to go somewhere with service. There was an outbreak in rural appalachia. Close enough for him to get home in 3 hours or sped fast enough. He grabbed the thing and proceeded to bang it on his thigh.

“Hunnigan?!” Leon yelps.

“Oh thank g——————safe.” Hunnigan beeped through.

Leon’s brows furrowed. “What? I… I can’t understand what you are saying…. Ah hell, the job’s done… I’m going home.” Leon put the device in his pocket after turning it off, he needed to get a car…

—————————————————————————————————————

It was about 12 in the afternoon and your lunch would be finished in about half an hour. All you could do was stare at your phone. You knew that they’d find him. Hunnigan promised! Right? I mean she told you that they found a sign, so the possibilities are endless.

You sighed exasperatedly as someone knocked on your door. You looked up to see a head pooping up to look through your window. As you stood to see who it was, a second head of hair popped in the window also, at that point, all you could do was chicken to yourself.

“What is it? Shouldn’t you be at lunch or something?” You lean against the door frame looking at the girls expectantly.

The girl first spoke. “We came to tell you our song choices for S/E. You told us that you’d get back to us by December, and here we are.”

Your eyebrows raised as you nodded your head. “I did say that, didn’t I? So, why is it that y'all came to me instead of vice versa?” The two girls blushed at the question which was more of a statement than anything.

“Well, we wanted to go over the ideas. We have many but we mainly have two to show you.” You boy finally piped up. The girl gave you a nod, agreeing.

You sigh and move out of the way so they could come in until it was time for their next class or however long it took them to go over the songs with you.

You start to read the music sheets that they provided you, all you could do was look at them in shock.

“Seriously? I understand ‘As the snow begins to fall”, but ‘When I am laid in earth’?’ You blinked at them in surprise.

The boy chuckled, almost like he knew you’d say that. It was a very odd mix of two songs with two very different voice ranges.

You sighed and shook your head. “If that’s what makes you happy.”

You put down the sheets into your fabric covered lap. All you could do was give these kids a weak smile. At this point, you just wanted them out of your room. You didn’t have to deal with these two and their jokes for another two periods and all you wanted was just a break.

The pair looked at you with looks of triumph and satisfaction. They finally bid their adues and went out of your classroom.

The second they walked out, You ran to your cell to check for any more calls. None.

You bit your bottom lip hard. When in the hell would she call you back?

—————————————————————————————————————

“Baby cakes?!” Leon practically screeched as he ran into the house. Stupidly, he came from the back door. Somehow, he found a ride that’d take him to the gas station closest to your place.

He rummaged through each and every room he could, looking for you. All he could do was yell and scream out your name. He needed to find the love of his life. His world.

The only thing that stopped him was the sound of Hunnigan tapping back in.

“Hunnigan?” Leon barked.

“Leon?! Where are you?! Did the assignment go through well?” Hunnigan shot questions at him quicker than an auctioneer could even talk. This, of course, made the infamous agent chuckle.

“I’m back home… I was looking for Y/N. And yes, it was completed. Once I get to my wife, I’ll be in shortly to put in the documents… though I think back up could easily finish that.”

Hunnigan gave him a glaring look through the screen. “Well they are only there for clean up. You, on the other hand, are the person who was sent in to get the information needed and take out whoever was wanted. But I’m sure your wife and the safety of the country must come first. I bet our boss would just love that!” She quipped, making Leon sour.

“Well, I bet she’s pulling her hair out of her head at the moment… It’s only for a few minutes, she at least deserves that much. And besides, she doesn’t answer her phone at work often.” Leon tried to reason.

Hunnigan leaned back into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well one of those few times must’ve been today. I talked to her.”

Leon’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?! Is she okay?”

“Leon… She’s more worried than anything. You haven’t been home. I think she’s a bit desperate.” Hunnigan chuckled. “Hell, she is desperate. She got whoever to give her my personal cell!”

Leon laughed at the mention of your sudden desperation.

“Look, I’ll just put in that you are en route to the main office.” Hunnigan started clicking away at her keyboard.

Leon smiled, relieved that he could at least do this. It was almost rewarding.

—————————————————————————————————————

You reread the score in front of you, making sure to play it just right this time. The students sat there quietly, some murmuring about the sudden and rare fatigue, others, zoned out, reading over their own sheets of music.

Your eyes closed as you sighed out of your nose. ‘You got this’, you told yourself.

your fingers played around on the keys, re-warming them up. You hit the starting notes, the time signature being pentatonic and a 3/2. Suddenly, the rhythm came to an abrupt stop. The students looked up at you as you waited for their expected gazes.

“Open to the beginning of the song, but go to the last measure.” You chirped as you brushed the bangs of your hair to the side, studying the way your hands rest on the piano. As if you were programmed, your fingers fell onto the keys, playing the melody of the music.

Your playing almost took you away from reality, from the aching pain of a very long period of not seeing your husband, from the aching pain that your life just loves to inflict. The sound of the piano brought you to a bit of peace as you ended at a different measure. You look at the children, who were closing their folders and putting them up. All you could do was give them a small smile. It was just about the end of the period.

You stayed. Silent as you watched them get up to the sound of the bell as if they were robots, moving to commands. You silently waved goodbye as they curtly walked out, one-by-one.

The second the last kid walked out, your face dropped. You turned back around, you sighed as your head fell into your hands. No call from hunnigan, no Leon, nothing.

“Why did I get myself into..?” You silently mumbled.

You shot up as you looked at the ceiling. You sniffed, holding back your tears. You had students coming in at any minute. You couldn’t just let them see you like this, they didn’t need to see you fret.

You sat there on the bench, basking in the loneliness that you didn’t know would be interrupted sooner than you were hoping for.

There was a knock on the wooden door frame, making you jump.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, flattening out your skirt and fixing your sweater. You twirled around with a hopefully convincing smile plastered on your face.

You opened your mouth, trying to cover up what you were just doing, as though it would paint you a good excuse. Let’s just hope they weren’t there for long.

“Hey! How can I-” your smile faltered as you stared at the taller, tired being in front of you. “Oh my god…”

Suddenly, your eyes filled with tears, threatening to ruin your perfect makeup.

Leon smiled as he hoisted himself off of the frame, making his way towards you.

“My sweet girl, oh how I’ve missed your ass!” He opened up his arms, just as he always did.

You sauntered towards him, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I… I thought you were dead? You left me!” You choked on your sobs out of relief, anger, and sorrow.

Leon felt his heart cave. He really did make you worry your head off, he really did put you through that.

He chuckled out of relief. “Well I’m here now, ain’t I? It’s okay, I’m here, I’m safe. We both are together.”

You know that he was right, but the feeling of him not being there lingered. You prayed that it was real, that he was actually holding you and not just some dream.

But this was no dream, he was actually here in your arms. Now, you could go back to your usual routine of drinking coffee on the back porch and watching old westerns as you ate breakfast on the weekends. Just for this little bit, your life would be normal. You knew to hold onto this little bit. Because soon enough, your Scottie would be gone again.

[bisupergirl]

In Superman: The Animated Series, Superman and Supergirl are not related. Argo is Krypton’s sister planet and Kara’s surname is In-Ze instead of Zor-El. Despite that Clark still refers to her as family (he calls her cousin). I always thought that was cool.

As a Supergirl enjoyer do you believe that being directly related to Kal and the House of El is a important/essential part of her character? Could she just be another survivor of Krypton totally unrelated to Clark or would that change her core too much?

interesting question!! i think that kara's direct relation to clark and the house of el is important for a couple different reasons, both character and lore-wise.

i actually think that making kara not related to clark would moreso change the connection they have more than it would change her actual characterization, but imo, the most important relationship she has is the one between her and clark, and if you change the specific relation they have (kara being the older, biological cousin, and her intending on caring for kal once they both got to earth), you change their dynamic.

character-wise, the isolation and loneliness that kara feels from being one of the last kryptonians who has an actual lived experience on krypton is one of the biggest aspects of her character and influences the dynamic that she has with clark. it's one thing for kara to discover that the baby cousin she assumed she'd have to raise herself (and the last familial connection that she has) has grown up entirely disconnected from kryptonian culture + has only learned about krypton from a hologram, and a whole other thing for her to find out that Some Guy she doesn't know was born on krypton and learned everything he knows about it later on. that obviously wouldn't prevent them from becoming close (hi superman: the animated series kara and clark), but it does make their relationship less tragic and personal.

lore-wise, kara kinda has to be in the house of el in order for her to survive krypton's destruction at all. kara only survives the explosion because zor el knows that the planet's going to explode, and HE only knows about krypton's impending destruction because jor el told him about his research—which was only shared with him because zor and jor are brothers. so unless you give her a whole new origin a la STAS, it is fairly essential for her to be in the house of el.

[cogentranting]

✏🖍

[thatrandombystander]

Today's personal piece of lore is I was playing board games with some of the fam and at one point I ask "who's turn is it?" and after my mum just said "mine" both me and my brother basically in sync went "tsk. if you failed to answer "yes my gatekeeper" you have to miss a turn", in a quote reference to the 2004 Australian DVD boardgame Atmosfear that we used to play as kids

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[arabriddler]

important ! In recent years especially this year I’ve noticed a lot that the internet language picked up so many Islamic phrases and, from a muslim perspective, it makes the internet a little more welcoming. the thing is, a lot of the time with Islamic phrases you have to be careful about when and where to say them they hold their own weight and demand their own respect so here is a list explaining each phrase and some notes about it.

In sha allah

It means “ If God wills “. It’s mostly a response that can mean yes or no. If someone asks you to do something you can say in sha allah as in “ I heard you and I’ll try to do itc but I can’t claim that It will happen “ . Muslims say it because we’re unaware of what future holds it’s actually blasphemous to claim to know the future, so saying so means “ If it’s the will of god it will happen if not it won’t “ and you’d also say it about future events.

Ma sha allah

It means “ this is what god intended “ and it’s a compliment. Saying so is like saying WOW! But it’s also kind of a prayer of protection? If I see someone with pretty hair I should say “ Ma sha allah your hair is very pretty “ the ma sha allah protects the person from the evil eye. By saying that I’m also saying I’m not jealous I’m genuinely enamored and I don’t wish any harm to go to it.

Astagfurullah

it means “ to god I repent “ or “ from god I seek forgiveness” it’s usually used when you make a mistake but people also use it when they see something bad or when they want to avoid saying something bad. Like once my card refused to work and I’d say that so I won’t say any curse words and to calm down my anger

wallah/wallahi

okay this one is important. This one shouldn’t be used so lightly. It means “ by god’s name “ and it’s basically swearing in Allah’s name. You are only supposed to say it if you genuinely mean what you’re saying. It’s such a heavy word that I only say it very rarely and if you say it and don’t follow up on what you said you have to fast for three days as repentance.

ya allah

ya is an addressing word? Like talking to someone or calling them? Like saying O’ ( someone ) so ya allah means O’ god

Al hamdullilah // hamdullilah

it means ‘ praise/thanks to god ‘ said when something good happens or when you feel relieved about something— for example, my shirt is stained badly and I’m worried it won’t clean well. I clean it and the stain is gone so I say “ al hamdullilah “ kind of like phew!. Sometimes people say it as an answer when they’re asked how they are it can either mean things are good or bad but we preserve .

One more note is that with the name of Allah you should also be careful it’s not supposed to be written on papers that’ll get stepped on or lightly used in art because it also has its own weight it’s regarded heavily. Like even in home decorations it should be elevated and not overshadowed. If I have to throw away a paper I have to sit down and color over the name of Allah or burn the papers so it won’t get thrown in trash.

another note is that those phrases aren’t Muslim exclusive. Some Arab non-Muslims use them as well. This is only my explanation from a Muslim perspective.

Another another note is this is what I can remember at the moment but if you have additions or enquiries let me know

[pomegranatesarchive]

better streamer | max verstappen

pairing; max verstappen x streamer!reader

summary; after getting completely demolished on stream by user; fartsnifer max makes it his life purpose to win a game against her. to bad he never does and they fall in love instead.

— fartsnifer has posted new photos!

liked by, charlesleclerc, and 57,924 others!

fartsnifer: very nice stream tonight! thank you so much to all those who joined 🫶🫶 and thank you to all of my new followers! welcome, you are now all official fartsnifers 🔥

view comments below!

user1: i love your content but i will not be identified as a fartsnifer.

user2: i too did not want to identify as a fartsnifer. i am now proud to be one 😕

user3: being a fartsnifer is a PRIVILEGE. be proud

user4: i’m sorry but i can’t take you guys seriously while you’re calling yourself fartsnifers 😭😭

user5: this is the girl who embarrassed the f1 grid in cod?!?

user6: this is her!!!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1, @/landonorris, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri @/logansargent, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo

user7: bro tagged the whole family 💀

user8: LMAO CHARLES???

user9: how did he find her so quick 😭

user10: basically all of f1twt is talking about her 😭😭

maxverstappen1: @/fartsnifer check dms.

user11: MAX WHATTT

user12: willing to bet he’s asking her for a rematch

user13: that’s so ominous “check dms.” LIKE DAMN OKAY

user14: max just accept that she is better than you. it’s okay.

georgerussell63: well well well, if it isn’t fartsnifer herself.

fartsnifer: well well well, if it isn’t the guy who scream like a girl

georgerussell63: um actually, that was @/landonorris, NOT me.

landonorris: why are you lying?

user15: y/n replying to george and not max is killing me 😭

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user16: this is embarrassing max, one comment was enough

user17: i think he wants y/n to check her dms?

oscarpiastri: good game tonight! 👊

fartsnifer: thanks piastri!

user18: thank you oscar for showing y/n that f1 drivers do in fact have decorum 🧍

logansargent: don’t fraternize with the enemy Oscar.

maxverstappen1: check dms please.

user19: oh max…

user20: it just got even more embarrassing

user21: the way y/n is very clearly ignoring him is SO FUCKING FUNNY

user22: i love your content pls don’t die

danielricciardo: please answer Max’s messages.

user23: daniel did max make you do this???

danielricciardo: yes.

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user24: OMG MAX WE GET ITTTT

user24: y/n please answer his dms this is getting sad to watch

— y/n l/n and max verstappen have shared a collaborated post!

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 392,839 others!

fartsnifer: join my stream tonight to watch me humiliate this 3x wdc!! 👊👊

view comments below!

user25: omg she actually answered his messages 😭

maxverstappen1: that is not the photo we agreed on.

fartsnifer: but this one was so much funnier!!

user26: oh i WILL be tuning in

user27: this is going to be the funniest thing ever

user28: strangers to lovers…

user29: OH BROTHERRR

landonorris: best buddy’s with the enemy now mate?

maxverstappen1: i must win.

user30: i love that photo of max

user30: the ways he’s just 🧍

charles_leclerc: woohoo!! go y/n 👏👏

georgerussell63: fake.

landonorris: she is the enemy charles!

logansargent: after she humiliated us on stream? i can’t believe this.

maxverstappen1: you sick traitor. after everything we’ve been through?

charles_leclerc: i like her videos guys 😕

user31: charles leclerc a official fartsnifer confirmed!!

user32: i was planning to sleep early today….but this seems more important

user33: oh but if i said enemies to friends to lovers…

user34: i would say you’re delusional!! 😝😝

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 583,826 others!

fartsnifer: life feels good when you don’t have to pay for your own dinners 🤤 @/maxverstappen1

view comments below!

user35: hasn’t it already been over a month 🤨

user36: i think they played again and if y/n won max had to pay her dinners for ANOTHER month

user37: they just want an excuse to keep in touch 😒😒

user36: oh most definitely LMAOOO

maxverstappen1: when did i get you sushi?

fartsnifer: like three days ago remember????

maxverstappen1: ah yes! i remember now

user37: max is literally traveling the world racing and still finds time to order y/n dinner online EVERY SINGLE DAY.

user38: he wants her so bad and you can’t convince me otherwise 😐

landonorris: can you play today?

fartsnifer: don’t you have quali today???!?!

landonorris: i mean after 😒

fartsnifer: yeah just tell me when

maxverstappen1: can i join?

user39: omg max no

user40: oh i just got the worst second hand embarrassment jesus christ

user41: that was the saddest sentence ever written

fartsnifer: ofc you can maximilian!!

charles_leclerc: you shouldn’t try this delicious italian restaurant! i’ll send max the address!!

fartsnifer: thank you charles 🫶🫶

maxverstappen1; don’t thank him 🙄 I’m the one buying it.

user42: don’t be jealous max…

liked by 273,827 others!

fartsniferupdates: queen fartsnifer herself was seen at the f1 austrian race today!! i think we ALL know who she was there for… 😉😉

view comments below!

user43: she flew to austria for a MAN ?? 🤨

user44: to be fairrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN so…

user45: they are so dating!! they literally left together and looked so happy

user46: i fucking knew it

user47: okay enemy’s to lovers…get it ig

user48: maybe y/n can let max win at COD now that they’re a…thing?

user49: y/n looks so good

user50: IKR!!! her hair is chefs kiss

liked by, landonorris, charles_leclerc, fartsnifer, and 763,825 others!

maxverstappen1: finally payed for her dinner in person 💪

view comments below!

user51: oh HE posted her?? yeah he’s in love

user52: he ruined his entire feed aesthetic to post a picture of her 🥹🥹🥹

fartsnifer: i don’t like that picture🧍delete please!

maxverstappen1: karma!

maxverstappen1: and you look cute 🙄

user53: OH!!!

user54: yeah they are definitely dating

landonorris: finally!! God you were getting to annoying with your “she’s so pretty.” “and she’s good at games.” “do you think if we started dating she’d let me win.”

maxverstappen1: delete this.

fartsnifer: too late!! i’ve seen it. no max just because we’re dating doesn’t mean i will let you win

maxverstappen1: 😕

user55: OMG SHE JUST CONFIRMED IT?? THEY ARE ACTUALLY DATING?? HOLY SHIT

user56: girl he literally flew her out to watch him race. ofc they were dating 😭😭

user33: I FUCKING KNEW IT!! FUCK YOU ALL WHO SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL!! WHAT NOW HUH??? YOU SEE THIS?? I WAS RIGHT!! AHAHAHAH

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc: that was for y/n, not max.

maxverstappen1: geez thanks mate!

fartsnifer: love you charles ‼️‼️

user57: LMAOOO

user58: the way charles became a full on fartsnifer fan is so crazy

user59: he literally talks about her all the time too 😭😭 when he was asked what he’s been watching recently he answered “i’ve been watching a streamer named fartsnifer! she’s funny.” he’s so proud about it

georgerussell63: you are all traitors!! after what she did to us that fateful day? i can’t believe this!

fartsnifer: you literally invited me for drinks tomorrow?? 🧍

georgerussell63: SHHHH 🤫🤫

user60: max is dating someone who gos by the name fartsnifer….yeah i didn’t see this coming

. . .

notes: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line

Warnings: Cursing

Pt2, Pt3 Maknaeline

(X)

BANGCHAN |

You walked into Chan’s studio, quietly shutting the door behind you, as to not startle him.

“Hey Chris, can we talk for a second?”

You watched as your boyfriend of a year and a half continued to type away, not acknowledging your question.

“Chris? Did you hear me?”

“Yes I heard you. I just didn't answer."

"Well, it would be nice for a little acknowledgment, I asked if we could talk." You state politely. You understood that Chan was stressed, but you believed it was basic courtesy to at least acknowledge someone - let alone your significant other - when they asked you a question.

"Well, I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"I understand it will only take two minutes ba-"

“Dammit Y/N! I'm busy right now can't you see?" He snaps. Turning towards you and showing you the screen of his laptop.

You open your mouth to speak and tell him just why you needed to talk to him at this very second but he interrupted you.

"When we first started dating, I get that you told me you were clingy. I also get that I told you I liked clingy. But my god, Y/N you're not just clingy you're fucking obsessive. And always at the wrong times! You want space when I actually have time. Yet you decide to stroll in here trying to start a damn conversation when you can clearly see I'm trying to play damage control from a fucking dumbass trainee thinking it was funny to mess with my tracks. I'm already stressed as fuck about that, yet I have you breathing down my neck like some obsessive stalker. Like for five minutes just leave me alone!"

You stiffened at Chan’s tone. It was very rare that Chan would ever raise his voice. He managed his frustrations very well and was aware of how sensitive you were so he was always careful about confrontation.

He turned around and had his back hunched over his laptop as he typed and clicked away furiously, unaware of the tears that were quickly springing to your eyes. You were frozen in place, your heart beating uncontrollably.

It took a minute before you were even able to take a breath.

You stood there long enough for Felix to come bursting through the door to come update Chan about something unimportant to the task at hand. The same task that he had snapped at you for interrupting.

And you think that what hurt most. The way the frown on his face was lessened when talking to the younger male and his cute chuckle even popped out once or twice.

You finally were able to pull yourself out of the studio, leaving behind the coat you had absentmindedly placed down out of habit when you had come in and opted to take your purse.

The air was brisk and had that dry smell it always gained before it snowed.

Your apartment was close to the studio, a 25-minute walk at most so you always opted to take a stroll when visiting Chan, but you were on a tight schedule so within a minute you were in a taxi heading home.

And just as quickly you were back in a taxi heading to the airport.

You knew it was petty of you to mute Chris's notifications. But the fact that he snapped at you was just the tip of the iceberg. You knew that once he calmed down, he would immediately be filled with guilt. And you would rather not have your phone being blown up by multiple people at once.

Are you headed to the airport?

You responded to your brother's message with a thumbs up and turned on your DND before the screen darkened with a click.

You glanced at your watch and sighed.

You'd be on a plane heading home in less than an hour and weren't even able to kiss Chris goodbye.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

MINHO |

"You're clingy as hell." Minho mumbled under his breath, thinking you wouldn't hear. But oh did you hear.

"Lee Minho what did you just say?"

He let out a sharp breath and looked up from his phone. "I called you clingy." He stated boldly, his voice even yet loud enough to be heard by Hyunjin and Han who quickly scurried away to the other half of the suite.

"And what about me is so clingy?"

Minho chuckled sarcastically. "Oh I don't Y/N, do you want me to recap the entire day for you?"

You had joined the kids on their trip to Paris. While they had been here numerous times, this was your first time traveling here and due to the anxiety of being in a new place, you attached yourself to Minho's hip since it was your first day here.

You didn't intend to be overbearing, nor did you intend to be up his ass for the entire week and a half long trip, but you wanted to get used to the surroundings and you felt most comfortable doing that with your boyfriend. Yesterday being your first day you spent the entirety of it with Minho. You had noticed quickly how his excitement had turned into unease and straight up irritation after a while. It was a weird phase of emotions considering how happy he had been but you had amounted it to you accidentally taking a wrong turn and missing a fireworks show Minho had been talking about all day. You had come into his room early this morning to apologize, but instead were meant by an overly irritable boyfriend.

"It's because I've never been here before! Did you expect me to not to ask you to show me around?"

"Y/N there is a difference between a tour guide and a fucking babysitter. You pulled me along to everywhere you wanted to go. I had plans yesterday! Certain things that I was hoping to do. I made an entire schedule and everything, but just because you wouldn't agree to be toured around the city by Chan you ruined all of that. Then you spent the entire day just pulling me along. If you wanted someone to give you an overly extensive run down of everything and keep you company, why don't you ask someone closer to your personality like Jisung or Jeongin? I'm sure they'd love talking of the ears of all the local with you. Shit, you'd probably become some street show you three."

You sucked in your cheeks and took a breath.

"That was uncalled for, you have no need to bring anyone else into this discussion."

Minho chuckled sarcastically.

"Discussion? What is there to discuss? The amount of time I want you to leave me alone? Hell, why not the entire fucking trip?" He spat out.

"You're an ass Minho."

"Yeah well at least I'm not a pain in someone else's."

You felt your bottom lip start to tremble and your chin shake.

Don't cry. You'll just be a crybaby.

"And here come the water works." He groans as if he read your mind, getting up from his bed and heading towards the room where the rest of the guys were probably trying to keep occupied as to not hear your arguing.

"So what? You're just gonna walk away?" You call out.

"YOU'RE PROVING MY FUCKING POINT!" He shouted, finally at his breaking point. "It was a mistake asking you to come on this trip." He said turning around one final time and opening the door to the other side of the suite. "I never should have asked."

"Well you know what, maybe this trip isn't the only thing you should have never asked about. And I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not the only thing I never should have said yes to." You spit out turning on your heel and slamming the door.

You furiously wiped at the tears that were sticking to your face and threw your hood up over your head as you headed to your room to contemplate what would become of you two now.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

CHANGBIN |

It was irritating to you the way Changbin was interacting with the female barista. And the irritation must have shown on your face because when he handed you your iced latte, he raised an eyebrow.

"Is everything okay jagiya?"

You sighed as you guys stepped out the shop and started making your way back towards the studio. Changbin had been really busy the last couple of weeks with preparing for a special release and collabing with a few other groups, so you hadn't been able to be around your boyfriend as often as you'd like. So you had agreed on meeting during his lunch every other day, even if the times varied.

"You just seemed really flirty with that barista." You mumbled. "It was obvious she was into you too. I mean who wouldn't you're the Seo Changbin." You giggled elbowing him playfully. You pulled out your phone to make sure there was enough time for you to walk Changbin back or if you would have to take an Uber. You nodded at the time and swiped away a few notifications from Minho.

You expected Changbin to laugh or reassure you like he usually did when you brought up his flirty habits. Instead he snorted into his cup as he took a sip of the dark liquid.

"Jealous much?"

You laughed a little. "Why would I be jealous? She isn't the one who has been dating you for three years." You said hip bumping him, but he stepped away from you rather brashly.

"Well it seems like you are because you have to bring up me and my so called flirting ever single time I talk to anyone of the female species."

"Bin it was just a joke-"

"Well I'm not joking when I say you're acting clingy as fuck." His tone was way off and he seemed to realize the shit he was setting himself up to be put in because he stopped mid stride and turned around to you with an agitated sigh.

"Do you...I don't know want to run that by me again?" You ask, firming your stance.

"God, Y/N, don't make this a big thing. Its just been a day-"

"No, no. You don't get to use that excuse Changbin. We're supposed to talk through these things. You don't just get to say something like that and then act like you didn't."

You guys stood at an impasse for a moment until he spoke up rolling his eyes.

"Fine. I think you're being clingy." He said simple. "Jealousy falls under clinginess and I think you're being jealous so therefore you are being clingy."

"Changbin it was a fucking joke! You've never reacted this way before so I don't know why you're acting this way now!"

Changbin just rolled his eyes and continued in the direction of the studio.

"Seo Changbin, where are you going?"

"To work Y/N. You know, maybe if you actually picked up a more stable job then you wouldn't have as much time to be up my ass and exaggerating about things that aren't things you should be butt hurt about."

You stiffened at Changbin's low blow and took a breath.

"We need to fix this before it gets out of hand." You grit out.

"Well maybe I don't want to fix this." He looked at his watch. "I'm late now so why don't you just drink your latte and go home to cool off."

The condescending voice Changbin was using sent you over the edge. You were angry to the point of tears.

You chucked your nearly full iced latte at him. It hit his chest with a thud, and the coffee made a rather pretty pattern on his pristine white shirt.

"Maybe that'll help you cool yourself off. Fuck you Changbin." You pushed past him and waved down the closest taxi.

Your phone was buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out.

"Hey, are you and Changbin on your way back? I need to go over some choreography and we're filming tiktoks right when he gets back."

You did the best you could to keep your voice level when responding to Minho.

"He's on his way back now. But you need to get him a new shirt because being the dumbass he is he likes to make a mess of perfectly good things."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

HYUNJIN|

You were never very happy having to attend events with Hyunjin. It wasn't that you didn't like spending time with him, or in turn spending time with the guys events.

It was just you felt insecure being the plus one of someone like Hyunjin.

It was no secret to anyone how those who knew and perceived Hwang Hyunjin's existence thought of him.

He had a beauty that rivaled any masterpiece that had ever been painted. The elegance of a tiger lily with the face of an angel.

You knew of many people who would jump at the opportunity to be with Hyunjin. For the past 11 months you had been with him you had your fair share of run ins with crazy fans or pop stars of the like.

Once your relationship had gone public a month ago you found yourself being compared to the female idols in the industry even more than you has expected.

It seemed to be the general consensus that not many people viewed you as "beautiful enough" to be with someone like Hyunjin.

You didn't take it to heart because you decided to have the outlook of nobody being beautiful enough for Hyunjin - let alone the people writing those hateful comments considering they were most likely delusional pre-teens who made the most out of pocket edits and were in desperate need of some grass groping.

But after a month it was starting to get to you slightly. Especially as you had come across one of those edits, since you had been tagged in it after someone found your personal account.

The amount of hate messages were starting to get to change your perception on things. Because the more you were hearing it the more you were seeing and believeing it.

"Jinnie do you think that my shoulders look weird in this dress?" You walked into your living room where Hyunjin was sitting. He looked up and a bright smile showed on his face.

"I think you look beautiful jagiya!" He said standing up. He looked other worldly in his tuxedo.

"And my hair?"

"Perfect." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. "We have to leave now if we want to make it on time. Or else I would look at you all night."

By the time you had been at the event for thirty minutes you already wanted to go home. You felt like the ugliest person there, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of many people on you.

Ever couple of minutes you found yourself looking for Hyunjin's reassurance.

"Does my stomach look bloated?"

"Is my makeup fine?"

"Can you see the pimple on my chin?"

"Are my nails okay?"

"Do I look ugly?"

"Should I make my hair look like hers next time?

Hyunjin was reassuring you, but after the third or fourth questioning of the night his answers became generic.

When he was talking to an idol and his significant other you couldn't help but start comparing yourself to her. She was so pretty.

"Hyunjin should I run home and change?" You asked quietly in English. You were doing your best to learn Korean so it would be easier to communicate with Hyunjin's parents when the time came that your families were to get closer. You wanted it to be a surprise when the time came, because you knew how much Hyunjin wanted you to get along with his family, when when the time came to meet them - he wanted to get along with your family.

"You're girlfriend is pretty clingy isn't she?" The other idol asked in his native language, assuming you didn't speak korean because of your fluency in english.

"Yeah she is extremely clingy." Hyunjin replied. "Might be the clingiest girl I've ever met."

You looked at the other idols girlfriend and she made a face, and then laughed.

"You can tell she is a foreigner by the way she acts. No one is ever as clingy as foreign partners." She joked and all three of them were laughing.

Well there is the hundredth insecurity to list.

You looked at them and tried to control your facial expressions.

"We were just telling him that you are so adorable." The girl told you.

You chuckled uncomfortably and looked over at Hyunjin. He smiled and blinked cutely at you.

You smiled back as Hyunjin turned towards the couple again to continue his conversation.

And all you could do was smile back as you pretended to not understand the words Hyunjin didn’t even realize hurt you.

[mygnolia]

to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)

⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!

⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end

⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.

What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you. 

See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading. 

In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now. 

“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?” 

(Nope.)

Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?

Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class. 

A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.” 

“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording. 

Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards. 

The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing. 

“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him. 

You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.” 

Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”

“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval. 

Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room. 

“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch. 

Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“I better hear you two are dating by next week.” 

“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth. 

“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag. 

Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question. 

“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.” 

“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got. 

Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”

The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English.  “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?” 

Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.” 

“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.” 

And they’re silenced immediately. 

“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.” 

Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”

“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?” 

“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.” 

“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.” 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.

All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert. 

He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold. 

He doesn't like it one bit. 

Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area. 

Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner. 

A spark. 

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself. 

What the hell was that?

He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm. 

Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man. 

The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”

The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”

“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.

The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.” 

That scared the shit out of him. 

The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape. 

What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him. 

He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.

Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal. 

“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”

The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him. 

Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.

With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it. 

Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars. 

“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that 

Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can. 

His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving. 

It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it. 

No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero. 

He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.

And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same. 

His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you. 

In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.

The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you. 

When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby. 

The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits. 

“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project. 

“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises. 

What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago. 

“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”

“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head. 

“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“

You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.” 

To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch. 

One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line. 

“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.

Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”

“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.” 

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response. 

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.” 

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.” 

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.” 

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.” 

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.” 

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter. 

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. 

“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.” 

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.” 

“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.

“Gross.” 

He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.

He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right? 

Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM. 

Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time? 

Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.

The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes? 

Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again. 

The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark. 

He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor. 

He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy. 

It’s attracted to the power plant. 

Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims. 

Bam. 

He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed. 

Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back. 

This fight will, in fact, not be over soon. 

With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity. 

The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.  

Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle. 

It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop. 

Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory. 

All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest. 

Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up. 

He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds. 

He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time. 

The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.

But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him. 

He’s most definitely not coming to school like this. 

While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop. 

Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein. 

The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about. 

Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text. 

Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it. 

The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy. 

“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him. 

“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?” 

You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.” 

Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?” 

He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend. 

“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom. 

What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.” 

“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.” 

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up. 

Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.

Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?” 

The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision. 

“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.

Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task. 

The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves. 

Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more. 

Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?” 

He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down. 

And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.” 

Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?” 

He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning. 

“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination. 

Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish. 

There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.

The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end. 

You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag. 

“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.

All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break. 

Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask. 

-

Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?” 

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading. 

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐  talk to ____ regularly 

☐  don't make it awkward 

☐  be..cute? 

The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things. 

He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?” 

You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-” 

“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago. 

Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his. 

“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice. 

So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.” 

The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.

“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise. 

“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.

Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight. 

Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.  

For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.

There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings. 

You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse. 

Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.

Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.

The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists. 

Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated. 

A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.

“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.” 

Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back. 

The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle. 

Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot. 

He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance. 

From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump. 

He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse. 

You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it. 

You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist. 

Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him. 

You. He still needs to save you. 

With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him. 

Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended. 

Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement. 

He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.

Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists. 

In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action. 

Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop. 

“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” 

You’d be a fool to do anything but wait. 

Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go. 

To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind. 

He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.

Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion. 

A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.

“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” 

Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.” 

Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.” 

“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.” 

Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.” 

He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?” 

“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you. 

Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?” 

He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.” 

Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?” 

“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.” 

Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit. 

So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do. 

“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened. 

You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?” 

Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.” 

There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?” 

You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting. 

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man. 

“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.” 

“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear. 

“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs. 

Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest. 

‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.

Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain. 

The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities. 

Until now. 

“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.” 

His blood runs cold. 

“You think this…why?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.” 

Riki was going to strangle his best friend. 

“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”

He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too. 

“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation. 

Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.  

“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?” 

“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms. 

You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly. 

“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?” 

“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?” 

“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki. 

You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are. 

He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.” 

As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate. 

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart. 

“Goodnight, Spiderman.” 

—-

Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain. 

Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.

The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue. 

Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out. 

The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something. 

Nothing. 

One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news. 

He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago. 

Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that. 

Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something. 

There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it. 

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow. 

-

A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two. 

Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant. 

A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.

Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night. 

He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring. 

“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine. 

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.

With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away. 

Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive. 

“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.

Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him. 

The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment. 

“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more. 

And the solution hits him. Literally. 

When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge. 

Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him. 

“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen. 

Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan. 

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies. 

He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th 

While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt. 

Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down. 

Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard. 

All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm. 

The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them. 

Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead. 

“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!” 

Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks. 

“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?” 

Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.

The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge. 

The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more. 

The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop. 

“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”

“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.” 

Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions. 

“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds. 

“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.” 

Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.

Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body. 

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right? 

“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach. 

Do not say it’s true. 

“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass. 

“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you. 

“Holy shit.” 

There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony. 

“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”

You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit. 

Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.

The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?” 

Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips. 

He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers. 

Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.

“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing. 

“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?” 

The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint. 

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow. 

“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school. 

“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet. 

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”

“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”

“I really want to ask you to prom.” 

You simply stare at him, surprised. 

“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”

Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.” 

You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel. 

“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?” 

“Jake.” 

“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response. 

 “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze. 

“For what?”

“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you. 

“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”

You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed. 

“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.

“How’d Jake find out?” 

Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”

“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.” 

“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head. 

“Not stupid. Keep going.” 

“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.” 

You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class. 

“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly. 

The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt. 

Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things. 

There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.    

You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.

It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”

“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod. 

You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.” 

You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore. 

“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.” 

MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE. 

He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest. 

Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.

But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug. 

Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach. 

“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. 

He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.” 

NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.

But first, he has to try something out. 

He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is  right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago). 

“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand. 

He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised. 

The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain. 

When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze. 

“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!” 

Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you. 

Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.” 

“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.” 

You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you. 

“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.

“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe. 

“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting. 

“I thought girls liked this.” 

You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose. 

Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?” 

Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.

You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.” 

“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him. 

“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man. 

Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.

“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration. 

“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.

You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.” 

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)

꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS INCOMING…

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[puckinghischier]

jack & luke loving quinn’s gf almost as much as he does bc suddenly they have an older sister they can call for advice on the most random things…

“so, hypothetically, if i wanted to get a pedicure, would they give it to me since i’m a guy?” jack asks you over the phone.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of your car, baffled at the question. “jack, is this seriously what you called me four times about?”

“i mean, yeah. you weren’t picking up. thought you and quinn might be screwing and wanted to break that up as soon as i thought about it,” he admits like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“jack!” you scolded, scoffing at his crudeness. “i was picking up some snacks for the guys before their game today. i couldn’t even get to my phone if i wanted to,” you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“you make it sound like you were ignoring me on purpose,” he says, basically being able to hear the pout on his face.

“i wasn’t not ignoring you on purpose.”

he smacks his teeth at your answer, returning to his original question. “anyways, will they do a pedicure on my gnarly man feet or no?”

you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you, opening your door and finally sitting down in your car. “yes jack, they’ll give you a pedicure. are you actually going to go get one?”

“yes! dude, have you seen my feet lately? they’re disgusting. plus, quinn was telling luke and i about that time you made him do one with you and how much better his feet felt in his skates afterwards.”

you think about the fact that quinn now has monthly pedicure appointments with you, not shocked at all that he shared the information with his younger brothers.

“jack! is that y/n? i need to talk to her!” you hear luke yell in the background of jack’s call, stopping whatever response you were about to give.

you hear shuffling, insinuating the exchange of the phone. “hey! y/n! so, i need your advice.”

“hi, luke, i’m good, thanks for asking! how are you?” your voice drips with sarcasm.

“yeah, hi and whatever,” he dismisses you. “so, if you were a girl, would you rather your date wear a pink shirt to show he’s not a toxic guy, or would you rather him wear blue or black to show he’s serious about the date?”

once again, you pause. you look over to the side, as if there’s an invisible camera there and mouth a ‘what?’

“okay, well first of all i am a girl-“

“well yeah, but like…a real girl. one that isn’t dating quinn and would be ready to hop on the luke train,” he interrupts you, earning his own roll of your eyes.

“as i was saying,” you ignore his interruption, “i am a girl, and i don’t think it’s that serious? wear whatever you wanna wear. if she likes you, she likes you. if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. i don’t think wearing pink is going to either hurt or help the date.”

the line is silent for a moment. “i think i’m going to wear pink anyways. you know, just to let her know i’m not a douche,” he finally speaks.

“okay, well, if that’s what you want to do, then do it-“

“thanks, y/n! bye!” you’re cut off yet again, hearing the line go dead. groaning, you call quinn, letting him know you’re on your way with the food.

“hey, baby! you get the catering order yet?” quinn’s excited voice fills your car as you turn it on and put it in drive.

“yeah, i got it. on my way now. just got off the phone with your idiot brothers,” you tell him, pulling out into traffic.

“oh god, what did they want this time?” he asks you, knowing how often you’re plagued with calls from his siblings.

“well, jack wanted to know if he could book a pedicure appointment even though he’s a man, and then luke wanted to know if he should wear pink on his date so he doesn’t look like a douche,” you give the short version of your conversations.

quinn lets out a laugh, not at all surprised at his brothers.

“quinn, we’ve gotta set some ground rules. i can’t keep doing this. i don’t know how you dealt with this by yourself for all these years. and god, your sweet mother. i feel for her,” you say not entirely seriously, knowing they call ellen more than they call you, if that’s even possible.

“baby, they love you. you’re the big sister they never had, they’re just excited to finally have someone to ask this stuff to other than mom. because mom usually tells them to figure it out on their own,” he chuckles, knowing how much both luke and jack have told him they loved having you around.

“well, i’m about to take the ellen approach because they make me want to pull my hair out sometimes, those disgustingly lovable heathens,” you tell your boyfriend, never really being able to say anything bad about the brothers. they’re like excited puppies anytime they get to see you in person, and it does melt your heart a little bit each time.

“i’ll talk to them about it,” quinn’s still laughing at how you can’t help but talk about how much you love his brothers, even when you’re aggravated at them. “just focus on getting here. i miss you, wanna see you before game time.”

“okay, be there in like-“ you stop talking when your ringtone blares through your car.

“god, its jack again. i gotta go, i’ll see you in a few minutes,” you groan, ending the call to answer the interruption.

“what is it this time, jack?”

[tojissidewhore]

gojo isn’t the type of person to flaunt about how much money he has.

sure he’s wealthy, and boy he knows it. but why would that be of any concern to anybody else.

i definitely think his love language is gift giving, so he buys you a lot of expensive shit pretty much any chance he gets. weather it’s some expensive jewelry or something that reminded him of you.

point is, you know he has money, but exactly how much is uncertain to you. both of you never really talked about money, it all kind of sorted itself out naturally.

you tried to bring it up once, when you moved in together. you moved into gojos apartment so you had offered to help out with rent, but he shushed you pretty quickly, telling you not to worry about it and that it was no way near an inconvenience for him.

so instead you did more things around the house, it was your way of paying him back.

you had been dating for five years and living together for about two, when you found out just how rich your boyfriend actually was.

it was your five year anniversary and satoru wanted to make it special. so he had taken you out for dinner to a nice fancy restaurant.

"how was your food?" he asked, arms tucked underneath his chin looking at you as you finished your plate.

"good" you answered with a smile. yes your food was good, and yes the restaurant was nice. but after 3 hours of sitting there, watching the waiters put on a show and what not, you were ready to go home and have your man all to yourself.

a grin formed his face reading your thoughts exactly. when the waitress came to get your plates gojo made sure to ask for the bill, and 3 minutes later she was back with the check.

he fumbled through his wallet searching for his credit card. he paused for a second looking up at you, then back down to his wallet pulling out a card you didn’t recognize.

this credit card was black, while the one that you knew was a basic gold one. of course you knew the significance of the card he had just retrieved from his wallet (and the waitress very obviously as well, by the way her face changed at the sight of it) but you didn’t know that your boyfriend possessed such a card. he hadn’t mentioned it once.

“so, how is it that i did not know about your black amex card?” you asked discreetly. you weren’t trying to pry on him but you were genuinely curious about it.

“I guess because I almost never use it?” he said, looking at you without turning his head. “why?” he asked pulling your body closer, a small smirk forming.

“just curious” you answered cuddling into him.

“you sure?" he asked raising concerned brow.

"yea, i just didn’t know you had two cards."

"actually," he paused grinning. “i have three, or rather two and a half."

you pulled back confused. satoru lifted himself up a little bit, enough to reach over to the night stand to grab his wallet. he took out another card which you did not recognize.

"here," he said handing you over the card. “i set up a dual account for us. i know you have your account and you’re good, but you know. just in case." he smiled happily.

"i can’t accept this satoru. how the hell can you manage three accounts?"

"it’s fine baby, it’s yours as well as mine. you don’t have to feel bad about it. presides i don’t ever use my black card, i don’t need it. i just forgot mine at home earlier."

you knew the requirements or reasons to get to own a card like that, yet he rarely used it? what kind of things did he buy with this card? okay, yea. this boy had money.

later that week, after getting all of the account information from satoru, you decided to register with your phone just to have a view of the account. and god let me tell you, you almost dropped your phone.

[smokingsoothesthesoul]

# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !

author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!

word count : 1.8k

you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 

not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.

so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 

you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you

—

drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.

as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 

before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 

hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 

he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.

“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.

“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.

“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.

“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 

“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.

“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.

“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”

“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.

“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.

drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”

jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 

drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”

“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.

before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.

as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 

drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.

“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.

if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.

as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 

drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”

“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.

“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.

“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.

at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.

as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.

as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 

“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 

“i know,” you replied smiling.

hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.

“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.

drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 

“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.

he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.

“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

drew couldn’t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.

as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 

“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.

“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.

“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.

“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.

jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”

“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.

next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.

“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.

“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.

as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.

“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.

“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.

drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 

“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.

“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered, curious as well.

at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 

the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 

and that she did.