#i know you didn't see it when you were a kid. i didn't either.

[therealbeachfox]

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" came the chirp from across the table.

"What do you mean?" Otto responded without looking up.

"I mean, instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass?"

Otto sighed heavily and looked up from the blueprints he'd been amending and reworking to focus on his nephew. One of his nephews. One of his multitude of nephews because none of his siblings understood the concept of wrapping it up. He was at Mykola's place, so probably one of his. Too young to be Aiden, too old to be Eric. A, B, C... Connor? Conway? Conrad? One of those. At that extra annoying age where they're too curious for their own good, and have started to believe they actually know something, so get real argumentative about it when you prove they don't.

There's a reason why Otto didn't have kids. Or deal with kids. And tried to talk the Boss out of putting kids into his deathtraps. Fucking kids. Ugh.

"Because if we did that, it'd be impossible to get through." he said, hoping it'd satisfy the kid.

"But isn't that what you're trying to do?" Mykola's boy had his head twisted around to try and look at the blueprints from his uncle's perspective and was tracing out the twisting pathways with his eyes. "This whole thing is a giant 'You Can't Get In Here' tunnel. I don't understand why you're leaving holes in the security."

Well, the kid had actually asked, instead of just flat out stating that his way would be better. Otto grit his teeth and settled himself back for a proper lecture. "You're thinking too mundanely, kid." The boy looked up curiously and brushed a tangle of near-black hair out of his eyes. Slightly mollified, Otto continued. "This isn't like designing security for a bank or vault or something. This is something for my Boss. So we're already not designing like we would for the public sector, right?"

"Yeah? Yeah." Con-whatever agreed, though still looking just as confused.

"So, our issue is, whoever comes looking for whatever it is that the Boss is gonna put at the end of this is already going to be uniquely skilled and driven. Not just your average jewelry robbers or beat cops, right?"

"Right, yeah, you're going to be dealing with capes or cowls and stuff, sure. But wouldn't that mean you'd want it all extra locked down?" The kid was now looking directly at him. But with the intense look of someone who didn't understand but wanted to. It was by far more annoying than if the kid had just been flat-out disparaging of the whole process. Now Otto couldn't just tell him to shove off without feeling bad about it. Ugh.

"Well, here's the thing. If this was something the Boss really wanted to keep away from people, he'd have it put in some indistinguishable bank vault lock-box by a patsy that one of us underlings had hired through a third party, leaving two whole layers unaware of who even wanted the thing in there, and at least three whole layers who have no idea what the object even is besides. But he's not doing that, he's putting it at the end of a long tunnel of traps, alarms, and obstacles. Which means, what he wants is for whoever's coming after him to go through the whole thing. Which means it's gotta be at least theoretically possible to get through the whole thing. If you were a cowl and you came across a perfect laser grid that there was no way to squirm your way through and no way to work around, what would you do?"

Mykola's kid frowned down at the blueprints, eyebrows furrowed in tweenage concentration. "Start cutting through the walls, I guess. Either to find a way to cut the power, or to bypass the tunnel all toget-OH! Ooooooh, okay! I see, I see!" Otto grabbed the edge of the table to steady it as the kid started bouncing a little in his seat. "If you make it impossible, the cowls will start thinking outside the box and start looking for ways to end-run around the whole thing. If you make it difficult, but still possible, they're going to be too busy focusing on how to do the almost impossible thing so they're still playing by your Boss' rules instead of making up their own!"

Otto grunted and bit back the hint of a smile that wanted to cross his lips. Last thing he wanted to do was encourage the brat; then he'd be stuck answering questions all day. "Now you've got it. Make it hard enough that they waste as much time getting through it as possible without breaking out their bat-themed metal cutters or retreating and finding another way to come in altogether. Same reason why museums do it this way. Otherwise, the only way to get at shit would be to blow a hole in the floor, and that'd damage way more artifacts than whatever the thief was targeting originally."

"Okay, I think I totally get it. Is that why the HVAC ducts are big enough for sidekicks to get through? In case they can't work stuff out?"

Otto blinked and scowled back down at the blueprints to figure out what the kid was talking about, "No? No! I've got them as small as they can get without leaving the air rank, and we've got mesh grids every five feet just in case they try anyway."

The kid pointed down at one point in the blueprints and traced out a line that went way from one-third of the way through the hallway to right near the end, "Not on this one. And it's got this other branch that leads out to the bathrooms in the laundry mat you're using as a front, even!"

Otto squinted down at what the kid was pointing out. It was a second branch of the air circulation network, focused mainly on the above ground business, but with a few pipes down below ground as federally mandated backups to the system he'd been focusing on locking down. "No. That's not for the sidekicks." He growled and grabbed for an eraser and pencil and got to work grinding out alterations.

"Huh. So what about the-" the kid started.

"One thing at a time. Let me get this fixed, then you can ask the next one, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay!" The kid shrugged and grabbed up one of Otto's old notebooks that had the first iteration of designs for the Boss' main vault and started reading while kicking his legs.

Otto just ground his teeth and focused on his work. Only thing worse than a kid was a precociously bright kid with an honest interest in your work. Worse thing in the goddamn world.

He should message Mykola and let him know he needed to get one of his other kids to bring up snacks for the brat. He was at that age where he was going to get hungry long before Otto was done.

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" "What do you mean?" "I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"

[arc-misadventures]

I know it's a day early but I have to put it out now

Friends AU: After team RWBY throws a big Halloween/Birthday Party that involves all of Atlas and part of Mantle, how does the gang react to finding out Jaune never went to the party because he never got an invite even though Team RWBY all swear they invited him?

One Invitation Short

Ruby: WHOOO!

Ruby: It's my birthday~!

Nora: Let's fucking party!

Yang: Happy birthday sis!

Blake: Halloween birthday party! WHOO!

Ren: Happy birthday, Ruby.

Weiss: Congratulations, Ruby.

Penny: This is my first friends birthday party I've ever attended.

Oscar: Mine too.

Yang: Then we'll have to make sure this is one hell of a party!

Ren: But, not too big of a party. The janitorial staff haven't been looking at us kindly since the soda bottle rocket incident...

Weiss: Hey don't look at me like that. That was totally their fault!

Nora: Hey, it was an accident!

Weiss: You got pink soda all over me!

Ruby: We said we were sorry!

Weiss: My clothes are still in the drycleaners getting all the pink out of my clothes!

Yang: I have some photos of her all drenched in cream soda, wanna see?

Blake: Oh please!

Weiss: Noooo!

Blake: HA! Oh you look like a princess from a kids book in a pink dress!

Yang: Pfft! Oh shit, she does!

Weiss: guys?!

Ruby: Don't worry, Weiss, you'll always be beautiful even in pink!

Weiss: Shut up...

Nora: Don't be a downer guys! Let's eat some cake, and celebrate!

Yang: Yeah! I want some cake!

Oscar: What kind of cake is it?

Ren: Cookies, and cream.

Oscar: I've never had that before.

Weiss: Me either, it sounds nice.

Yang: Alright everyone around the table so we can sing happy birthday, and eat the cake.

Nora: Cake!

Blake: Okay.

Ruby: I'm so excited.

Yang: Okay, birthday girl is in the main seat... Penny... Weiss, Blake... Nora, and Ren... Oscar, and Penny have a seat. And, we're just waiting on you, Ja...?

Yang: ...?

Yang: Wait...? Where's, Jaune?

Weiss: He's here... right?

Nora: Y-You guys invited him... right?

Yang: Well... I was going to tell him, but I got dragged away on a mission, so I asked, Blake to do it.

Blake: I remember, Yang asked me to tell him. And, I was going to tell him! but, then I saw that there was this sushi restaurant... and, I haven't had sushi in so long... A-And, I heard, Mantle sushi is really well know for how good it is... and... s-sushi...

Yang: Uhh, Blake...? Blake? (Snap, Snap, Snap!) Hey, stay with us!

Blake: Sorry! I went to the sushi restaurant, and I sent a message to, Weiss to have her tell him instead.

Weiss: I remember that call; I was going to complain to, Blake about dumping her responsibility on me. But, she sounded like a junkie needing her fix when she was talking about that sushi restaurant.

Yang: That...! That sounds true...

Ruby: Yeah, she enters this weird trance when it comes to sushi...

Nora: It rather scary really...

Weiss: Well I decided to tell, Jaune so, Blake could get her... fix... And, I was about to tell him...! And, then the soda bottle incident happened...?!

Nora: Sorry...

Weiss: And, you all know what happened... So, while I went to get changed, and have a shower. So I asked, Ruby to do instead.

Ruby: And, I did!

Nora: If you did, then why isn't, Jaune here?

Ruby: I don't know?! I went to him during dinner, we chatted about out missions, and then I handed him this handmade invitation letter!

Weiss: A handmade invitation?

Ruby: Yes!

Weiss: That same letter that's in your hands, right now...?

Ruby: Ya, this the same lett...?!

Ruby: Oh...?

Ruby: Oh shoot...

Nora: So... you all weren't able to tell, Jaune about the party because you were distracted by one thing, or another... And, when you finally got to him, you didn't hand him the invitation?!

Ruby: Sorry...

Yang: I got called away...

Blake Sushiiiiiiiii~!

Weiss: I'm not apologizing...

Nora: Ohh... Penny?!

Penny: Yes, Friend Nora?

Nora: D-Did you send, Jaune a message?

Penny: Let me check.

Penny: ...

Penny: I do not have, Jaune Arc in my list of contacts...? Odd... I must preform a self-diagnostic...

Penny: Scanning...

Penny: System corruption located... Fixing.

Penny: Fixed! The contact information of one, Jaune Arc has been found!

Penny: I shall contact him, and hopefully, Friend Jaune will come join us soon!

Nora: Awesome!

Weiss: Oh thank goodness, hopefully, Jaune will join us soon.

Yang: Yes, it wouldn't be a party without my best blond pal!

Ruby: Hopefully he will come here soon, and we can continue the party, and...

Penny: What...?!

Yang: Is... is something wrong, Penny?

Penny: Jaune just replied to my invitation... He said, 'No thank you...'

Nora: What?!

Ruby: Jaune... rejected the invitation... to... to my birthday party...?

Penny: I'm afraid so...

Ruby: But... why...?

Penny: I... I don't know...

Ruby: But...?!

Penny: I'm sorry, Ruby.

Ruby: ...

Ruby: I see...

Ren: We did it again... we failed our friend...

Nora: What are you talking about, Ren...? We're not, Jaune's friend... We never were...

RWBYNPRP: ...

Ruby: ...

Ruby: FUCK!!!

~~~

Winter: Who was that?

Jaune: No one important... Sorry about that interruption, Sir.

Ironwood: That's alright, Mr. Arc. Now then, tell me what is it that you wanted to talk about?

Jaune: Winter made me an offer the other day, and I wanted to know, what would my duties be if I accepted her offer, and became, a Specialist.

[space-blue]

Fixing Vander and Silco's story (a bit)

Using canon events! Sadly we can't actually fix it, but I hope this makes it a little better. I make my own edit proposal at the end that changes the bar scene to include Felicia without issues.

They meet in the mines, and meet Felicia and her partner there too. They end up together somehow (I think we can put the brotherly allegations to rest now, eh?) and one of them (or both) inherit/buy a bar.

Although Vander is the barman, there is no indication Silco doesn't own or co-own the place. After all he comes to take it eventually as his own, and he's still not bartending. That's just not his gig.

It's implied that Vander and Silco made it, as in, got away from the mines, while Felicia clearly didn't, as she comes home to both her daughters with mining gear and gloves.

So despite Vander and Silco building the Lanes together, the mines aren't closed, and the work "isn't done".

Felicia says they've done it, and Vander is happy to celebrate their success. Meanwhile, Silco has his "NoZ" Nation of Zaun book in which he's scribbling, still planning.

Vander's first memory that Viktor sees even has Silco holding that book.

Later, in season 1 episode 3, we see that Vander tells Silco that he had Vander's respect, the Lanes' respect, but it "was never enough".

There's also this fakeout moment in the memory at the bar, where Vander says they're done, and Silco replies with "You're gravely mistaken". And I thought he was going to go all zealous and say "We'll only be done when we have the Nation of Zaun", but no, he claims he's Bozo 1.

And imo, he is probably right. He calls out Vander in act 1 saying "I trusted you and you betrayed me", and Vander does not contest this. It makes the most in character sense as well that Silco is the brains of the operation while Vander is the brawn.

And we can conclude that Silco's goals were always "bigger" and that the Lanes were indeed not enough.

Years pass, during which we can only assume Silco keeps building his Nation of Zaun and Vander happily bartends and manages the Lanes with Silco. Felicia keeps working the mines and raises Vi, then Powder.

Vi is at least 11, if not more, by the time she's on the bridge. This is just consistent with her model, but also to make her 18+ by the time of act 2.

It's a long ass time for Vander and Silco to be running a bar and the Lanes together. Even assuming Vi is more 8 or 9yo, Vander and Silco spend all that time being together.

Sadly, their models aren't aged very well.

We are also forced here to make some unfortunate assumptions.

It's not a problem, IMO, for Silco to know Felicia and be close to her. It's a problem for him to not be close to Vi and Powder too. Close enough to recognise them at least.

It's easy to say, "Well, Felicia went back to the mines and raised her kids and wasn't super involved with Vander and Silco, who lived much higher up in their bar." Adult friendships and all that.

IT MAKES SENSE, but then it makes zero sense that Vander would murder his life's partner, a man he's been with 10 years at MINIMUM (fuck knows how long they were together while in the mines), over the death of a friend in a revolt they allegedly BOTH participated in.

The memories also imply that Silco is responsible somehow, for throwing a molotov. And yet the molotov doesn't kill the enforcer.

But Vander is shown in the opening of Act 1 season 1 pummeling one to death himself, long after the rest of the revolt has died down. That enforcer wasn't getting back up lol

So whatever we pick, because the writers made Felicia and Silco close, they create a plot hole either way.

Either Vander is whacko and murders his husband over a dead friend at a revolt he set up (since he repeatedly apologises for what he did, and claims he "lost his head after she died" and had that guilt on his hands too)

Or Silco and Vi and Powder spend ALL of season 1 acting like they don't know each other at all. Then Silco takes in Powder and somehow never comments on the fact he was friends with her mom.

Everything being triggered by Felicia's death also means that Vander's emotional thematic moment dropping the gauntlets after seeing what his violence led to is then followed up by a horrible attempted murder on the love of his life, which is... you know. Bad writing.

So I propose that they indeed drift apart. Silco knows of Felicia's kids, and they hangout a bit, but they aren't that close. She's busy mining and being a mom, and Silco is busy making the safe Zaun he promised to deliver.

The creation of that Zaun leads them to act out revolts and uprisings. Vander is happy to follow. He's angry, like he tells Vi. And this manifests in violence. Silco points his violence. It's how they create the Lanes and the moniker of Hound of the Underground. A hound usually has a master, after all.

Vander is Silco's hound, and I think, in Vander's mind this absolves him of some of the consequences of his actions.

So when his friend dies on the Bridge, even if they haven't been that close in a while, well, it's easy to put the blame on Silco.

Since we're following the new canon timeline... we'll have to have him go back with the girls, ready to turn a new leaf.

I think the best way here is to have him either dropping them at an orphanage, or back at their home (trusting Vi to look after Powder for a while) or with friends.

That way, Vi and Powder aren't immediately in Silco's legs back at the drop.

Then Vander and Silco take part in the "clean up" at the bridge. They go get bodies, and since they have no real estate in the fissures, they commit them to the sea (we have canon monsters in there, so I'm sure it all gets gobbled up).

That way, we explain why Vander is weirdly shaved, and why Silco and him are at in the Pilt: they just commited the bodies of the fallen to the waters.

There may have been many others, but Silco and Vander stay there, in the shallows, as they talk.

Vander is done. He doesn't want more of this. He thinks Silco went too far with pushing this one to the bridge. Piltover got defensive and they lost too many people.

Silco doesn't get it. Where he goes, so does Vander, but Vander is his own man, he decided to come too, and he killed enforcers too. Felicia's death is tragic, but as he later will tell Renni about the death of her son: at least she died fighting for the cause, and not some petty infighting, or worse, an accident at the shitty mines.

Vander, the Hound, is not only mad with grief, he refuses to carry the blame of his own actions. It's a character flaw and that's fine! The angry man channels that anger with violence, the only way he knows how.

Silco is probably shocked, and may not say the right things to calm Vander down.

Silco is under the assumption that Vander BELIEVES IN HIS DREAM. That he's a true believer of the Nation of Zaun, like Sevika turns out to be. A true believer would understand sacrifice. A true believer would understand too, that stopping now, after Felicia's death, would make THAT VERY DEATH POINTLESS.

So maybe he screams at Vander! What do you MEAN abandoning the fight? What do you mean, being content with the Lanes? How dare you? You'd make her sacrifice meaningless! You'd make Felicia die a pointless death!

And Vander would bellow that it's over. No more death. No more bloodshed. He rescued her kids from that bridge, and they don't deserve to die too, they don't deserve to see more death.

And Silco screams back that it's their job to create Zaun so these children won't have to see more death. Vander is just delaying the struggle.

And then, perhaps, Silco may even mock him. Say that Vander can't change like that. That he's not that sort of person, to just hang up his gauntlets and go peaceful. That Felicia's blood is on his hands too, and that the only way out is through more blood, more sacrifice.

It would be a horrible point to make, if then Vander truly loses it. Silco runs, and Vander's hound comes out, just grabbing Silco and trying to drown him.

It would be poetic, because then Vander goes home in shame. Gets his arm patched up, hides the scar under a brace, collects the kids and tries to pretend like HE CAN BE THAT MAN. Even though he surrendered his gauntlets and metaphorical violence, and tries to lean into the bartender chill persona, there's what he did to Silco.

And later he'll tell Vander "I'll show you what you really are". Because Silco knows that Vander's promises of being a peaceful good dad are flimsy at best.

Anyway, Vander goes home, and eventually the impact of what he's done really hits him. He's single now, and with kids, and the Lanes to run, and nobody knows where Silco is.

Vander slowly realises Silco was right about one thing. Just because Vander followed, doesn't mean he wasn't behind that event on the bridge. Becoming the solo leader of the Lanes has to have hammered that home for him. Suddenly so much responsibility thrust on him.

So Felicia's death was on him too, and his actions against Silco are the proof that he is indeed the sort of man Silco said he was. At any rate, surrendering violence as his first reaction to any trigger will take a lot of work.

He goes to their old hideout and leaves a letter for Silco.

In the happy AU, Silco finds it, and returns to Vander BEFORE ever meeting Singed. There is no glowing eye, no shimmer, and no cannery.

In our AU, Silco never finds the letter. He finds Singed instead. Starts helping him develop shimmer.

I've been thinking that since the goal of shimmer is a form of "keeping alive" and also "bringing back to life", then it's possible that Silco's glowing eye is a byproduct of shimmer experimentation.

And that the only way to keep it alive and function is more shimmer injections. It would otherwise be grey and dead like in the Nice AU.

So Singed is also a factor here. He gives our Silco a real way to deal scary violence to Piltover. And this changes our Silco. He's more radicalised, and more opposed to Vander, having discovered that Vander works with Grayson to keep Zaun under Piltover's boot (basically making sure the boot stays, but doesn't press down too hard).

Vander is, as always, the enforcer of the status quo.

And though this works for them timeline wise, it sadly doesn't change the fact that Silco should know who Vander's kids are.

Vi and Jinx can be excused for not recognising him, what with him being one of their mom's adult friends, and scarred. But Silco doesn't have that luxury. His great friend Felicia had two very distinctive kids, ONE OF WHICH VANDER FUCKING NAMED! And her death triggered his husband so badly he tried to kill Silco over it. If anything, Silco would be hyper-aware of Felicia's kids.

And no amount of alternate fix-its changes that. It's permanent damage to season 1's Silco.

I feel like we can fix Vander's side of things by inventing an entire scene at the Pilt as I did above, but we can't fix 10 years of knowing your friend's kids and then a lifetime of acting like you don't know them.

I think it also cheapens the found family aspect of both Vander and Silco's adoption. You're left to wonder if they took in the girls only because they were friends with the mom.

Silco's adoption of Jinx and co-dependence with her was great because it spoke of the similar shape of their traumas, and how unexpected their bond seemed.

But now it's redolent of friendly obligation. And lies.

How would I fix it by keeping Felicia in the picture?

I would fully remove Felicia's one-on-one with the boys. That night at the bar? It's a party. Young Sevika is here too!

Felicia and many others are there, all congratulating Vander and Silco over the creation of the Lanes. Eventually Silco tires of the social niceties and goes to write in his notebook at the bar. Or maybe there's a montage of the night as the crowds thin.

In the end, Silco is writing, and Vander is still socialising. He talks to 3 people--Felicia, her husband, and a random person. They thank him for all his work. They've done it! And the conditions in the mines are so much better now thanks to XYZ!

Vander is beaming, he's just so pleased. It's clear for him this is the end goal. Felicia asks him, pointing to Silco, if he's okay.

Vander laughs, says Silco is fine, but he's already got his head back in the clouds. You see, Silco doesn't just want the Lanes, he dreams of a free Nation of Zaun.

The other 2 laugh, but Felicia sobers up. She rubs her belly, thoughtful. Then she says "Sounds like a dream worth fighting for."

I don't think she even needs to say anything about being pregnant, but she could go on with something like "I'm expecting. A girl, I think. I know. And I would love if she could grow in a safe city. I'm so scared she'll have to live the way I did, growing up.'

And Vander smiles sadly and tells her, 'We've gotten this far, and we're not going back. We'll make Zaun safe for your kiddo, I promise you that.'

And that's it.

Vander knows OF Felicia. She is a community member. He knows her enough, maybe from Lanes meetings, that eventually he can recognise her children. But they're not friends, and SILCO definitely isn't friends.

And the disagreement after the bridge is fully about where to go from then on, and Vander deciding he wants to run the Lanes and keep them safe, that what they have now is good enough, while Silco wants "more".

That disagreement can turn nasty, and the fact Vander tried to drown Silco becomes a statement about how violent and temperamental he is as "The Hound of the Underground". Something he'll regret soon enough and spend the next few years working hard to try and change.

What do you think?

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Many of them did dislike Vander, the people who saw him as weak and left him for Silco, such as Sevika, were not at all powerful at the time. "Everyone else" is the people of the Lanes, which is just a small area in Zaun.

All Vander did to keep the enforcers out of the Lanes was try make a deal that he would keep his people away from topside. He was perfectly fine with his kids stealing, but when they stole from Piltover rather than their own people, that's when he suddenly drew the line.

Silco didn't submit to Piltover to keep out enforcers- he drove them out, using Marcus and his goons, to the point even the council knew the enforcers didn't want to venture there anymore.

I'm not sure what you mean younger zaunites we're more motivated, we see more younger Zaunites in act one because our characters are younger. In season two we see that the Zaunites are still very motivated despite what Silco did.

Vander spent around the same time as leader as Silco did, his mark isn't apparent because he did practically nothing to change the status quo.

Silco was not as much an exploitive tyrant as Piltover. Piltover did what they did for greed. Silco did what he did for independence. He was more than willing to give up shimmer, what he got his wealth and power from, as part of Jayce's deal.

I don't see how young kids stealing and nearly getting shot and killed by enforcers is so much better than young kids working in a factory. Considering a wealthy chembaron who loves her son very much had her kid work there I don't think the conditions were as bad as you are imagining.

The meeting hall is a disgusting display, and it isn't Silco's, but the chembarons who care only about money and power. Silco hated the chembaron's greed, hence the speech and reminding them where they came from.

I know what the mural depicts, all I said was that I believe it is a firelight mural. Though it's pretty ironic because Jinx is not bringing peace to Zaun at all, she is literally the one who started the war.

At the end of the day neither Silco nor Vander were totally great or totally bad leaders, they were too blinded by their traumas to make the best decisions. Either way, its not likely either of them are going to be so quickly forgotten.

"Wow Silco's not on that mural!" " Zaun really hated him!"

It's literally a firelight mural... of course they are going to paint Jinx with her "real" father because the firelights hated Silco and loved Vander.

But you know who the zaunites didn't like? Vander. Vander did absolutely nothing for them, he was enabling oppression, turning a blind eye to the enforcers and the suffering of Zaun, and they were absolutely sick of it. That's why Zaun turned its back on him and embraced Silco.

Silco was by no means a perfect leader either, he brought horrible suffering to the Zaunites himself, especially those who were most impoverished. But Silco also did a lot of good for the undercity. If it weren't for him, Zaun would not have shimmer to treat all sorts of ailments, to keep people alive long enough to recieve care and prosthetics. If it weren't for him, they would not have the shimmer they need to fuel devices like Sevika and Smeech's prosthetics. It is because of Silco that little Zaun has an army of shimmer beasts and weapons to fight for freedom and defend itself from the cat. Shimmer gave Zaun a new product that wasn't under Piltover's control with which it could strengthen its economy, and we see the industries of Zaun florish under Silco. As we see illustrated in the ending of episode one, it is only through shimmer and the sacrifice that comes with it that Zaun can turn the tables on its oppressor, and I don't think the Zaunites, especially Jinx, Sevika, an the others leading this fight, will forget so soon.

In the game Convergence, which takes place after Zaun's independence, we still see Silco's symbol plastered in the undercity. His symbol remains on the assembly building in the season two trailer. Silco even seems to have a cult-like following; the eye has a strange significance in Zaun, we see Zaunites making offerings of eyeballs to a turtle-like diety that is covered in jars of eyes and has Silco's symbol inscribed on its praying hands. The Zaunites know Sevika and Jinx were loyal to Silco. It would be in their best interest to paint Silco as a hero and his death a tragedy executed by Piltover.

Bonus: I don't understand why people make such a big deal over Silco employing children in the shimmer factory like he invented child labor or something. Child labor has been a thing in Zaun at least since Piltover has been oppressing it. Silco and Vander worked in dangerous conditions in the mines as children. Ekko worked for Benzo as a child. Vander's kids steal from people to make a living, they aren't doing much better. Silco didn't get rid of child labor but he did ensure the profit from it went towards the Undercity rather than the greedy hands of Piltover.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I actually caught you when your asks are open this is spectacular

I know you write for Plastic Man, but I don't know about Negative Man? Larry Trainor, comics or show. So you can do this with either one you want.

Male reader who's similar to the invisible man – Not criminal, maybe backstory, but at least was a scientist who turned himslef invisible but a tad more realistic, blind but in the more Matt Murdock way, or just blind, I don't mind either. Hcs or anything else of any kind, but hcs would probably be easier.

I alao don't mind if it's ftm reader or the explicitly of it!! So sorry if this is all over the place. I didn't want it to be long😞

Lawrence “Larry” Trainor x Male reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a lot about Larry, so this is based off the wiki. The reader is also somewhat based off the 1933 movie The Invisible Man but with my own spin, since I wasn’t sure what else you might have been referring too, hehe. I hope my lack of knowledge still makes this good to read.

I got major Morticia and Gomez vibes from these two as i wrote.

You were no superhero, nor were you a villain. You were just a man who flew too close to the sun and got burnt on the way to discovery. The sun had so much to give, something you knew so many years ago before Superman appeared, and you learned his power source was the sun.

You barely kept track of when you were born nowadays, there was no need too. From what little you could gather, you didn’t age, you didn’t hunger or thirst, you didn’t even need to sleep. But you knew you had been around before radioactivity was discovered.

You had been around before the major superheroes became a thing, it wasn’t something that interested you a lot. There were a couple you knew, like Alan Scott, and Jay Garrick, you had even met wonder woman once or twice. But you were no hero.

So, it was no shocker that you didn’t know about this so-called doom patrol. How would you. Its not like you owned a tv, and you didn’t care much for the news stations on the radio nowadays. It was all ads and dramatic sound effects.

You were never sure what to call yourself. Alan used to call you a scientist, and Jay did too even though he hadn’t visited in a long time, at least it felt like a long time. But you had heard he got married and had kids, so of course that was more important. You still sent them both holiday cards though.

As a scientist you had studied radioactivity before it was discovered by anyone else. You had always had a habit of being consumed by your work, so when you climbed out of your pit of research, someone else had already claimed the discovery.

It didn’t matter though, as what interested you was the sun and the power you just knew it stored. Of course, it didn’t end well. Going invisible, blind, deaf, and losing pretty much every other sense hadn’t been on your list of predictions. But that’s what happened.

You could still see, hear, smell, and so on… in your own way. It was impossible to explain, but you didn’t truly exist the same way everyone else seemed to do. The radioactivity from the sun had given you other powers too.

But those powers weren’t used a lot. Why would you need to fly, or phase through things, or channel the power of the sun to blast somebody. You were anti-military and anti-government, that’s why they never supported your research and buried your existence from the history books, so you weren’t gonna fight.

When you finally learned about this so-called doom patrol you almost felt a little bashful, or could you say miffed? It was like one of them had stolen your entire look. Well, most of it anyways.

You were both wrapped from head to toe in bandages, though his seemed much thicker and sturdier than yours, like they were inlaid with something. And his clothing were more modern, and looked more practical.

What could you say, you were a sucker for the fashion you grew up with. So, what if your clothing, furniture and everything about you screamed Victorian era. Some of the younglings Jay brought along when he visited said you looked very “antique” and that “old stuff is in”.

You also didn’t wear shades like Mr. negative, Larry, you later learned, did. You were blind as a bat and had no physical eyes anyways, so why wear shades in the first place?

It was hard to explain how your body worked, it had the form of a human when you wrapped it, but it also… didn’t exist. You always just blamed it on the undiscovered art of radioactivity and science so advanced the world hadn’t gotten there yet.

It did look slightly entertaining to see you in your Victorian era dressing robe, in a pair of your best slippers with a glass of brandy you couldn’t really taste, beside Larry, who had very clearly seen better days.

Both being wrapped in bandages created a kind of comradery between you two in the beginning. Lary had thought maybe you were like him, especially when you explained how you got where you were, since his accident was based around radioactivity too.

Only for you to shock him, but unwrapping your head and revealing… nothing. Literally nothing. You even grabbed his hand and brought it to where your head would be, only for it to pass through it like nothing.

Your body seemed present when you wrapped it, a phenomenon you were still studying to this day. Right now, your results were pointing in the direction of it being mental, but who truly knew at the end of the day.

Larry hadn’t been willing to remove his own bandages for very obvious reasons, no matter how many times you told him it wouldn’t hurt you, and that it wouldn’t matter. You were raised too well to make any demands.

Instead, you pulled out your very old photo album and walked him through your family, happily pointing out pictures of yourself and how you looked, only scowling a little as he laughed at your hairstyle and outfits of the time.

In the end you touched him by accident. There was some accident in your lab that tore some of the bandages on his hand, and without a second thought you took his hand and wrapped it again. Obviously, nothing happened to you, you didn’t have a body that could be hurt, but it was still a shock for Larry.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Larry was as touch starved as he was. Not having any human contact for so long would drive anybody mad, except you that is, but you also were convinced that that was some mental result of your accident.

So, you didn’t turn him away when Larry would start appearing in your giant Victorian era mansion, far out in the mountains, so far away from anything that whatever radioactivity you worked on wouldn’t reach.

You also didn’t mind that Larry started searching you out for contact. He started small, just sitting closer to you as you had tea together, where it evolved to sitting up against you as you went through your papers, to Larry going as far as laying his bandaged head in your lap as you read aloud from one of your many books.

Larry was so sweet, in his own hesitant way. He even let you study how his own powers worked, but to no surprise you two didn’t reach a certain result, but neither of you had expected that.

Hell, Larry even got more comfortable going around in public, as you would hook your arms together and almost strut along, as if the wide eyed and sometimes hateful stares didn’t touch you.

That was also how you finally met the justice league. The only one that interested you was Superman, and he wouldn’t let you study him as much as you wanted. Your extreme studies of the sun at least caught Batman’s interest, enough for you two to have very long difficult conversations about science. You later learned you reminded him of his butler, which you took as a compliment since he was spoken so highly of.

The doom patrol wasn’t your favorite, you didn’t trust that Chief guy, and rightfully so. But who were you to tell Larry who he could and couldn’t forgive, you just made it very clear you weren’t gonna help that guy.

In the end, the relationship you two shared was strange, but soft in ways that was hard to put into words. Your first kiss took months to happen, as you didn’t have lips when you unwrapped your bandages, and Larry needed so long to grow comfortable to pull his off.

Holding hands, or tapping your foot against each other’s became how you expressed love. That, or giving gifts. You made place in your giant mansion for his many gifts, wanting to show them all off.

And Larry? Larry got a whole new wardrobe as well as many other trinkets he might need. You even dove head first into the tools and armor market, wanting to give Larry something to keep him safe. You couldn’t have cared less about the rest of his team, they weren’t really your friends, just Larry.

Those items might have gotten your usual Victorian flare to them too, even if they were sleek and modern in their abilities and storage. It was a bit like your way of marking Larry as yours.

It was still difficult for Larry to feel safe without his bandages in your mansion, not just because of how dangerous it was, but also because he found himself so hideous. You didn’t find him ugly, not at all. You also knew it would take Larry a long time to believe you, so you didn’t force him to accept it, just left the opportunity open.

You two made a strange but surprisingly strong couple, when you finally visited the outside world. Those few times were either to have tea with Batman’s very smart butler, or to blast somebody with the power of the sun for hurting your dear love. No matter what though, you always left an impression, not that you cared. All you cared about was leaving one with Larry.

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[r-eatyourfriends-n]

SMOKED | l.hs 이희승 | Collide pt. 2

bestfriend!heesung x bestfriend!reader

READ PT 1 HERE.

warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, overstimulation (sort of?), no use of "y/n", light switch!dynamics from both reader and heesung, car sex, unsafe driving lowkey, dryhumping, minor argument, heesung is down bad honestly.

wc: 3.8k

synopsis: days have passed after your first hook up with Heesung, though neither of you have said anything about it. Instead, you continue your search for a good one night stand somewhere else, but your mind and body know where you should be.

a/n: wow! the moral obligation I had to finish this before posting anything else was crazy, but after a huge block it's finally here. If you think this is better than pt1 it's because it is, but it's also because it has been approved by the one and only @molloygendered !!!!! my bestfriend and editor. he wanted to review this again before posting it but I'm a kid on sugar so I held him at gunpoint to approve this. any feedback is appreciated !!! hope you enjoy.

4 unread messages.

sorry to bother u so late

can u pick m up? pls

[Address]

idk if ure awake sorry

Heesung's screen lit up on his desk, breaking his focus from the heated game in front of him. He unlocked his phone, the other hand still gripping the controller tightly. His eyes moved quickly from the texts popping up and then back to the screen, which nearly got him killed. 

The team won eventually, but just barely. Heesung logged out as soon as it was over. He spent the whole time wanting to check his phone.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”Jake yelled at him through the call. “We almost lost."

“My bad. Gotta go,” he said in a monotone voice, showing no remorse as he hung up the call despite Jake's groans.

He looked back down at his phone and texted back a short "omw" before getting up from his chair, stretching his arms. His bones cracked, so loud it made him wince at the sound.

With quick steps, he changed into something a bit more decent, just a plain white t-shirt on top of his cargo pants, which had been slowly losing their black tone after each wash. The chains on his thick belt dangled as he walked out of his room and began to head out of his apartment, taking his keys from the cat-shaped key holder you had put on his wall. He had been surprised the first time he hung his keys and a white cat popped up. It was supposed to be a prank, but Heesung never found it in him to take it off despite the fact that it didn't match with the overall vibe of his room one bit. The kitten disappeared inside the box as he left.

The distance to your location was short, or perhaps Heesung was driving a little too fast. Either way, he arrived about fifteen minutes after telling you that he was on his way to pick you up. He parked in front of a small, black gate which led to some stairs. The complex seemed fairly little, but somewhat cozy, with small balconies filled with pots and all kinds of houseplants. Although it was past midnight and dark, he could still make out the colors of the flowers that were placed by the edges of the windows, leaves moving along with the wind.

Leaving the car on, he hopped out, leaning back against  the driver's door to wait for you. Admittedly, it was ill-intended. He hoped your date would see him and would be thrown off. 

The wait felt like eternity. When the door opened, your figure finally appeared in a white dress with black dots, just a bit above the knee. The cleavage allowed for the black choker to stand out, your name's initial dangling softly. Heesung had always wished it was an H instead.

You smiled at Heesung when you saw him, tilting your head in confusion because why was he out of the car? Heesung smiled back at you, a soft beam on his lips. Then looked to your side when a boy appeared next to you.

He eyed your guy up and down as he said goodbye to you. He was tall like you liked them, with flawlessly tan skin and a face that was nothing short of charming, with a sort of boyish appeal to him, and it was obvious why you had said yes to a date in the first place. Heesung swallowed hard, his own jealousy burning down his throat.

You didn't seem too enchanted by the guy, though, looking almost uncomfortable as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You fake-giggled (at least, he thought you did) and grinned at him politely before making your way to Heesung. The guy appeared to be a little turned off by you getting picked up by another man, for he did not take his eyes off of Heesung as he walked to the passenger's seat to open the door for you, a gesture that you were used to. Before hopping back in, Heesung winked at him, a smug grin forming. After that, you two were off speeding down the road. He'll take the long way home, he decided.

“Thanks for picking me up,” you broke the silence after a few minutes of driving. “You didn't have to wait outside though, it's freezing.” 

"I was trying to scare him off,” Heesung chuckled, a half joke that managed to pass as just something playful, making you laugh and hit his arm.

“I don't think he liked that,” you said after your laugh subsided.

“I think it was you who didn't like him.” 

You went silent for a bit, sulking on your seat.

“So, how was it?” 

“I liked him,” you mumbled, biting your lip in thought. “It was good, yeah.”

“But?” Heesung inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess I was hoping for something more... intense?”

Heesung turned his face, pretending to check something on the rearview mirror so that you wouldn't notice him biting his lip. He hoped you were referring to him, about the intimate moment you two had shared a few nights before, about the bite that was still decorating your shoulder so beautifully. A purple light enough to resemble a bruise; poor clumsy you, tripped and hit yourself with his mouth.

“Intense how?” he asked.

“To hell if I know,” you shrugged.

He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing your way quickly. 

“You clearly do know.” 

“I don't. If I did I would tell you, Hee,” you said, confused.

“Like how you told me you were off to see another douchebag?” Heesung spat. 

His words made you quickly turn your head. And although he wasn't looking at you, you knew he could feel your glare burning through his skin. The sudden change in attitude had been nothing short of baffling. He seemed to keep his eyes on the road to avoid your stare rather than for safety. You couldn't tell if bouncing his leg was anger, anxiety, both, or something entirely different.

“How do you know he was a douchebag?! I told you it was fine!” you whined.

“Did he even make you come?” he asked. 

You opened your mouth to fight back, but the only sound that came out was your breath hitching. It had been such a simple question, but it ignited the memories of your one time affair with him. The soft promises, the surpassed expectations, the sweet, sweet release. Your body began to tingle in the places where his hands had lingered, and you found yourself shuddering on the seat. Of course Heesung had asked that, while knowing your answer, too.

“Sex is not all about that.” you said finally, voice low with uncertainty. 

“Oh, so that's why you fuck every idiot with a mushroom cut.” Heesung mumbled.

“What the hell is your problem? You don't even know him!” your ears rang as your voice raised in pitch.

“Oh I know him; clerk job moron who thinks sticking it in is enough.”

You tried to ignore the fact that he was a receptionist at your esthetician’s clinic who you happened to make conversation with during a long wait. He had been bold enough to ask you to grab dinner and two days later you were kissing in the elevator of his one-bedroom apartment. 

That kiss had set your expectations through the roof, hoping that you had landed your perfect match. And it had been nice, sort of, but not like you had wished for, or had imagined. The way you had envisioned things and the way said things happened were complete opposites. Maybe it had been your fault for already having something in mind.

The conflict his words caused reflected in your face, a turmoil evident as you stumbled out your next words.

“I still don't understand why it bothers you so much. I know I'm sleeping with a bunch of idiots.” 

“You're hellbent on letting these assholes touch you.” he grunted.“ I can't stand it, I don't get it. It's pointless, it's…”

You were barely able to make out the words; he was just rambling, or so you concluded.

“How is that your problem?” you cut him off, bringing him back from his thoughts.

Only then, Heesung realized the slip up. Yes, you were right, and regardless of how close the two of you were, it was ultimately your call who you slept with, which bothered Heesung to no end. Why were you so against calling him again? Why didn't you ask to have sex again? Why did he finally have you, only for you to slip through his fingers? 

He hoped you hadn't caught onto it, but you knew him too well not to. Everything made sense after; his seemingly sudden offer, waiting for you outside of the car, this angry fit.

“I said, how's that your problem? What about it?” you pushed, in response to Heesung's answer, which had been silence.

“You can do so much better than that.” he finally said.

“So,” you smiled at him. “Think you can be my better?”

Heesung pulled the car over, so quickly your body flew towards the door, and he almost hit his chest with the steering wheel. His grip on it was tight, and he began panting. You thanked god about the empty, dark road, otherwise it could've ended in a nasty crash.

Both of your eyes meet, his pupils blown out with a hint of a gleam in them. There was hope, a tad bit of anger, and an undeniable desire. His hands were twitching, itching to touch you, and you didn't remember ever feeling so wanted.

Heesung's gaze slowly drifted to your lips, almost involuntarily. Your mouth fell open to breath, uneven and quick. The car was cold, but your temperature went up like a fever.

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

His gaze met yours once more. “Can I?”

You nodded. It was all he needed to pull you in, holding your face with both hands as gently but firmly as he could. Afraid, in a weird way, that you would disappear if he let go. That this was all a sick dream from his hungry mind and that he was soon to wake up alone, in bed, with you far away from his grasp.

Despite how much he wanted to keep it slow, the kiss was just plainly instinctual. It had started soft, as if he wanted it to last forever, which he did. Then it was relentless, like nothing was enough, with your faces pressed so tightly together that you almost felt you couldn't breathe properly. Heesung allowed you a few seconds of air before he was onto you again.

It was hard to keep up with him, but you managed, because this was what you wanted anyway. It was hard to tell if you would ever get to feel something like this again; the desperation, your blood pounding in your ears from the anticipation before he made the move, and your whole body shaking in excitement as if it had a memory of its own, and could recognize the touch. 

“Backseat,” you muttered between kisses. 

He heard you, loud and clear, he just couldn't stop himself. He wanted more. Heesung wanted to do so much with you, and to you, that he was unable to do anything at all. He couldn't bring himself to separate his mouth from yours despite needing the air, and his hands roamed mindlessly and only for the sake of getting a feel. The once deliberate and calculated Heesung was now a wreck in your hands, melting in the heat like a popsicle. Sweet.

But you really had to pull him off, otherwise you'd turn blue. Your nails scratched his scalp as you yanked him back, making him whimper in the process. The way he looked burned in your memory; eyes half-lidded, lips pink and swollen, parted, panting. Even with his eyes nearly closed, you could see his darkened eyes.

“I said backseat, Heesung,” you repeated, letting go of his hair. “Do you want to fuck me or not?” 

In every single position there was. Fingers, tongue, cock, he wanted to give you everything and more, so he scrambled to the backseat as you had ordered. 

This is who you were; demanding and controlling. That one time he manhandled you? Only that, a one time thing, now you wouldn't give in so easily. Not after the little jealousy number he pulled, at least. You weren't all that resilient yourself, but you would drag it as far as you could.

Heesung thought that he had chosen the worst type of clothing possible. Had he kept the sweatpants instead of changing into something else, then maybe the friction would've been more bearable. The rough material of his pants brushing against his cock made him groan whenever he slightly shifted. And when he finally found comfort, you seated yourself on his lap and grinded, hard. 

“Ohfuck,” he whined, his hands flying to your hips to find some leverage. His nails dug into your sides. “You're gonna— I'm not gonna last.” 

You grinded down again. And again, until you set your pace, ignoring his cries. The nails trying to claw at your skin drove you further despite the sting. As much as he tried to slow you down in the name of ‘lasting longer', he still thrusted his hips up to meet you halfway, though his eyes were tightly shut, and lips pressed in a straight line.

“Please, please baby, I don't wanna come yet, please.” 

“Did I just hear The Lee Heesung begging?” 

He looked up at you, teary eyed. His bangs were stuck to his forehead, as sweat had already begun to drip from his hair. That had been enough of an answer.

Yes, you had. It had been about the hottest thing you had ever heard as well. Usually confident Lee Heesung, always took the lead Lee Heesung, would rather die than humiliate himself Lee Heesung, whining and whimpering about coming too fast after some kissing and humping. That same Heesung that had been able to get not one, but three orgasms out of you before even getting close. It was a sight to see.

You stopped, and Heesung sighed in relief, although the calm didn't last long. As a smirk formed on your lips, his eyes grew panicked. 

“If you come, I'll leave this car,” you said, rolling your hips again.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut again, the shape of his fingers imprinting onto your skin. Back then, when the two of you first had sex, this was the reality of what Heesung felt, even when he did a good job at not letting himself seem so desperate. 

He'd be damned if he looked like a loser in front of you, or so he thought. Because now that your wet underwear was soaking his pants, he was a mess. A hard, pathetic mess, desperately trying not to burst in his jeans from having you on top of him.

You yourself didn't believe you could keep torturing him, only because you were also torturing yourself in the process. His hard length along with the rough fabric of his pants brushed against your clit in a way that sent jolts through your body. It was harsh and uncomfortable while still feeling good enough not to stop.

Heesung's hips twitched with a mind of their own, searching for release against his wishes. You halted, leaning your body back to unbuckle his belt. He groaned at the loss of contact though didn't complain any further, and instead helped you get rid of his restraintments quicker. His breath ghosted over your skin as he sighed in relief, which made you shudder. 

His fingers went down to tease you under your dress, rubbing over the wetness seeping through your panties, and even with the layer in between, he could feel his fingers dampen. Heesung continued until you were left whining and attempting to grind your hips harder onto his hand. Only then did you feel him push the fabric to the side, and the tip of his cock pressed against your cunt.

After Heesung had you the first time, he knew that he couldn't let you go. Days went by where he would still feel your lips against his; the skin of your thighs, hot and sweaty, burning his cheeks as you closed your legs around his head while you came on his tongue. Not one day went by where he didn't fantasize about pushing himself inside you, and in some dreams, he would just stay there. 

But nothing was able to prepare him for when it actually happened. He thought the desperate way in which you lowered yourself on his cock might be too much for you. In reality, it was almost too much for him, as it forced a deep moan from his throat.

It was a little painful, walls tightening and loosening around him to accommodate the quick stretch, though the sting was worth Heesung's debauched expression. You wondered why,despite the uncomfortable, small space, it felt so much better than the first time. Maybe it was how much both of you had seemed to crave it, or the car forcing even more proximity between you two, as the things you could do were limited. Regardless, you could feel your lower region sticky and warm with the slick that had, apparently, dripped out of you and spread around your thighs and ass. 

You could barely hear your over breathing over Heesung's heavy one. His hands massaged the skin of your waist where he held himself, mostly to ground himself to earth, or so you guessed, because he looked completely gone. His cheeks cherry red and his lips a peach pink, and you succumbed to the urge to kiss him. 

This time, it was slow and calculated. He took the time to feel the rest of you, from threading his fingers in your hair, to ghosting his fingers over your spine from under the dress. You didn't fall behind, though, raising his shirt as much as you could to run your nails over your stomach, stopping to feel his muscles tense beneath your hands as you began to move your hips.

“Slow, baby, please,” he breathed out, it came out way more high pitched than he intended to. 

As much as you wanted to keep messing with him, the world had seemed to fade away, leaving you two alone with the car and the small piece of road that you were parked in, and you didn't feel like breaking the moment just yet. You placed your hands on his shoulders for better stability, and rested your forehead on the crook of his neck.

Whispers of praises poured from his lips. You're beautiful, you're amazing, could stay here forever, and another handful that got lost between all the shit's and fuck’s that also came nonstop. He followed all of his words and phrases by kissing your neck, sometimes even biting. You might find a mark when you look in the mirror, but you cared little about that. Instead, you decided to leave a mark of your own, sucking and biting on the most visible place that you could think of. That's when he began to meet your movements, thrusting up messily in an attempt to pick up a pace. 

“Say you're—,” he gulped, interrupting himself. “You're mine.”

“Always have been,” you smiled against the light red bite mark. 

Your voice as you rode his cock kept driving him closer to the edge. Every moan and whine just made him go faster, having already been close to his orgasm from the grinding before. And as you grew tired, it felt as if he was regaining some form of control. Heesung smirked when you laid, practically limp, against him, allowing him to set the speed that he wanted. He remembered that he loved being in control as much as he had loved giving it to you.

“F-faster,” you pleaded lowly.

Heesung pouted, even when you couldn't see him. “No manners, sweetheart?” 

Most likely, you were about to pay a small price for threatening him to leave. 

You swallowed, so loud you were sure he had heard. “Please.” 

“What? I didn't hear you.” 

“Go faster, Hee, please!” you nearly yelled. It had been hard to get the words out after getting him where you wanted.

“There we go!” 

Were you being pushed down on his cock or was he pushing up into you? By this point, you weren't really sure. What you were certain about, though, was that he reached wherever you needed him to, and the squelching sounds were at its loudest.

“Was he good like me?” Heesung asked, grunting through his teeth. “Were you thinking about me while he fucked you?”

He wasn't expecting to get answers, and he didn't. You were too focused on the feeling of your body overheating from the inside out, and all of your muscles tensing. Your walls clamped around him involuntarily as pushed you closer to the orgasm that you had been chasing since the beginning of your date a few hours ago.

Heesung wanted you to finish first, he truly tried, but there was no way to stop the waves of pure pleasure that hit as he came, and the fact that he got to come inside of you just made it hit harder, and you had to help him ride out his climax because he really couldn't move, just kept himself there with his brows furrowed.

You were close as well, so you didn't really stop despite Heesung reaching his orgasm first. Even through his over sensitivity, he helped you reach your own high. He sneaked his hand between your bodies to rub messy circles on your clit. You kept it slow on him, but he went fast. 

It didn't take long for you after that. Feeling you on his cock as you orgasmed almost made him hard again, if it wasn't so late and you hadn't been going at it for what felt like forever—not that he was complaining—. He got to watch your face contort into pure pleasure, better than any daydreams.

Heesung pressed his forehead against yours, unable to do anything other than show you something, whatever that something was. It lingered in the air, in the way he looked at you through his teary gaze. He kissed you, slower than ever before.

Whatever was going through his mind was deeper than lust, you could feel it in the way his lips moved so softly against yours, holding your face with both hands. You wondered if he knew that you didn't plan on slipping away again.

[bringbackmaes14]

It's fine; you just have to understand that friendships between people in different age groups don't and can't necessarily work the same as friendships between people in the same age group.

I'm not even kidding when I say that when I was a kid/teenager two of my best friends were the grocery bagger at my local supermarket, Mr. David, who was in his mid 50s, and Mr. Theodore, an usher at my church, who was in his mid 70s. I was bullied and ostracized in my own age group, so I didn't have a lot of friends my own age. But I saw these two old guys a couple times a week. Mr. David had met my mom when she was pregnant with me so he'd been around my whole life and watched me grow. And we'd been going to the church where Mr. Theodore was an usher and since I was 3 years old.

And the thing was, it wasn't a friendship where I could invite these old guys over for sleepovers or to play tag or to watch SpongeBob, and they didn't talk about politics or playing golf or retirement plans with me. But when I saw them, I'd get a great big bear hug and a "how ya doin, kiddo?" They'd ask me how school was and I'd ask them how things were at the grocery store or the church. They'd ask me how my siblings were doing, and I'd ask Mr. David about his nieces and Mr. Theodore about his grandkids. I had a secret handshake with both of them (that now that I think about it might've been the same handshake for both of them but they didn't know each other so it was fine). We'd tell each other jokes. We'd make promises to see each other again when my parents eventually dragged me off to the next errand or sunday school class.

And those were good friendships! Not every good friendship has to include tons of quality time and numerous shared interests. I'm sure tons of us have friends now, even in our own age group, where we text them or see them once every six months, catch up for a few hours, and then we don't hear from them from a long time, and that's just how the cycle goes, but you still consider that spotty cycle a friendship!

And I'll also say: I'll never forget how devastated I was when I found out Mr. David had died in an accident. I remember going to the grocery store when I was 13 and asking a manager where he was because I hadn't seen him for a while, and the manager pulled my mom and I aside and said "Sweetie I'm so sorry. I know you and Mr. David were very close, but he died in a car accident three weeks ago." That was the first major death in my life. I'll never forget how furious I was when I told teachers and therapists that my best friend had died in an accident, and when I explained that my best friend had been an "old" man named Mr. David, I was told children couldn't be best friends with old men. I still tell people to this day that Mr. David was my first best friend.

I know now that there are definitely more fulfilling ways to have friendships than the friendships I had with Mr. David and Mr. Theodore (Mr. Theodore is still alive to my knowledge, I just don't live in that state anymore), but I don't regret the friendships I had with them at all, in fact I'm very very grateful for them.

My mom was constantly stressed but very much doing her best to raise me and my 3 siblings, and my dad was around but he was an abusive piece of shit. I'd had a boatload of disrespectful and downright demeaning therapists, and 9 times out of 10 the teachers I had either brushed me off entirely or loved me right up until they didn't. Suffice to say my view of adulthood was pretty shitty.

But these two old guys were there to remind me adults can be kind, to kids and adults and everyone in between! And adults can be silly! And adults can hug people just because they're happy to see them. And adults can have fun. And adults can love- their parents, their children, their spouses, their neighbors, their coworkers, their friends, a stranger walking by who just needs a smile.

Think about all the lessons kids and teens could learn from adult friends.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[lizzy019]

Hihi! So, idk if your requests are open (if they're not, feel free to ignore this :))

Could I have the gang (seperately) (idk if you do all of them in one post srry(if not, then just Johnny or Ponyboy)) with an S/O who's uncomfortable with drinking and drugs and gets like, a bit tense/anxious when they see either - including when the gang has any - just cuz of some bad childhood trauma?

Thanks!

Love you sm <3 /p and I hope you have a good day/evening!!

Ahh back again with a request haha! Sure, I'll write short drabbles for each of the gang members :))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1) Ponyboy 2) Johnny

3) Dally 4) Darry IN THIS ORDER!

5) Soda 6) Steve 7) Two-bit

1) Ponyboy

Ponyboy knew that you tended to be a bit uncomfortable when he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it within a matter of seconds. Now normally, you'd just plug your nose and push past it since this was just Pony's addiction, but lately you seemed to cough from the second hand smoke and stood far away from him.

You couldn't find it in you to tell him how your parental figure did it too often when you were still a young kid. You saw how they got when they were high off of their mind, it bugged you ceaselessly and you really didn't want to see Ponyboy like that either. But then again, you were supposed to be a bit tougher, so naturally you didn't tell him.

But Ponyboy caught on quick enough.

Now, it was very common for him to smoke when he got stressed or anxious about something. Though Ponyboy preferred the easy way out of his stress, smoking his cheap tobacco, he tried to keep it away from you. Whenever he was stressed, he'd find you and lay his issues on you to resolve them together.

It wasn't a big fix, but if it had you coughing less and smiling more, he'd do just about anything for the curl of your lips and the laughs you shared.

2) Johnny

Now, Johnny was well aware of your trauma and discomfort when it came to drugs and substance abuse. He tried his best, honestly, to keep his addiction away from you, or to a minimum if he really couldn't suppress the urge.

He understood fully why you didn't like substances like weed or tobacco, especially when you had these tiny freezes every time he lit up a cigarette and took a puff. They could be dangerous, fatal even, and he knew that it deeply worried you seeing him smoking them. As a trauma survivor himself, he knew it could be tough trying to push past something that scars your life.

But Johnny should've known better. He should've tried harder, especially so when you started physically distancing yourself from him when he smoked. Second hand smoke was bad, but it was worse because he knew why you were getting so overwhelmed.

You were scared, and he couldn't be mad at you for it.

So Johnny decided to quit. Just one evening, he handed you his cigarettes and his lighter and made sure you trashed them for him. At the end of the day, it was saving you both from a lot of issues in the future.

3) Dally

Dally by no means meant his teasing when you first told him how him smoking around you made you uncomfy. But he tried to at least grasp why it made you uncomfortable, to prevent the disliked feeling sway you away from him.

While Dally struggled with breaking his addiction (he was 12 when he started), he had a goal in mind. Less than a pack a day, hopefully less than 15 if he got good enough. It was just something he tried to do to keep you safe, he loved you more than anything and he'd prioritize your comfort over something as silly as a few cigarettes.

You were very happy when his average intake of cigs had dropped a couple, and it made you proud knowing you were the cause of it. And as of lately, he even seemed to be more cheery because he wasn't smoking that much anymore.

You both were very happy with what Dally had done for you.

4) Darry

Darry is a simple man. While he did like his beer, a cigarette every now and then helped soothe the stress of taking care of two buffoon siblings and all his friends. The man was overworked, you couldn't blame him for needing some affordable way to release the overwhelming stress building and building.

But you didn't like when he smoked. You were scared, truthfully. He was smart, he was a dignified and respected gentleman. Seeing him smoke was like seeing a rabbit eating corn instead of the stereotypical carrots or celery. It was odd, it wasn't correct.

So the minute you informed him of your dislike to his smoking, along with your reason for the dislike to be trauma, he was quick to throw out his lighter and just hand the cigarette box off to Soda. It was efficient, and at least with beer, the effects were more manageable compared to being high off of his mind.

5) Sodapop

Soda in all honesty doesn't smoke that much to begin with. He just doesn't see it as something he wants to use to calm himself for the rest of his life considering his other brothers already cough up a storm from them.

But he especially tried to quit doing them at all when you came along. He could see your utter discomfort at the sight of the measly tobacco stick, and he questioned you. But he quickly took back any jokes he made directed at your trauma, as he didn't know... and the last thing he wanted to do was drive a wedge in between you two because of some stupid joke he made.

That was the day he stopped smoking around you. Any time he felt the need for a smoke, he'd just tell you he'd be outside for a few minutes and he'd pop back in.

Sure, he smelled of pungent tobacco afterwards, but it was the thought that counted, right? If seeing him smoke bothered you and he was too far into his addiction to quit, he would happily find ways that'd work for the both of you!

6) Steve

Now let's be honest here, Steve drinks more than he does smoke. Regardless of it, he'll happily accept a cigarette when it's given to him, he can't deny a free cig!

But he noticed the tenseness in your shoulders, the pained and fearful look buried in your gaze as you eyed him with just a cigarette between his lips. Were you upset at him for smoking? Maybe worried for his health? He didn't know, but he threw the cigarette out even if it still had a good amount left over.

It was then that you relaxed, shoulders going loose again and eyes soft like always. Oh, so you didn't like cigarettes at all, period. Maybe you just didn't like him doing drugs, but he didn't want to question you. Then again, even if he wasn't the smartest educationally, he was smart when it came to things like body language.

Instead of taking the cigarettes offered, he started brushing them off, smiling a bit in your direction as if to show you how much he cared about you. Steve wanted you to be proud of his responsibility, and you were. Well... you only smiled back because his smile was just too contagious.

7) Two-bit

Deadass, this man has awful habits. From drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, to drinking beer while smoking cigarettes, it wasn't uncommon for him to be seen tipsy or a bit stoned every now and then.

But once you and Two got together, he maintained his sober streak for a good while. Sure, an occasional beer maybe, but never too much and never too many cigarettes. He never even knew of your trauma to them until you both were with the gang, and he started smoking just because everyone else was.

Heavily influenced, you dubbed as one of his many poor characteristics.

But he knew at least vaguely from the gang that you didn't like it. After all, it was noticeable how your usually cheery, warm expression would shift to discomfort and appal. He didn't know how to handle the guilt knowing he possibly triggered some trauma you had, and his apologies were in the form of handing you his lighter and bottle opener.

It wasn't much, but it'd slow him down.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 15

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Cub has called you... He said it was something really important so you did your best to make it as fast as you could...... He hasn't really been very happy with you after the Mother Spore incident so you didn't expect him to be the one to ask to see you... You are a bit nervous...

Wait! What if he's quitting?!? You could never manage to do your work without his help! You'll have to beg! You will do it if that is what it takes.

You sigh ...Here goes nothing.

"Mayor Ren and Martyn have been taken hostage"

What? What does he mean they were taken hostage? Doesn't he have bodyguards to protect him??

"How? When? Where is he?"

"Oh he's still in his office"

Come again? What is Cub on about then?

"But you said he was-"

"Yes, it seems it is the office that's holding him hostage"

..."What?"

"Specifically, the mechanical door and windows have all been locked by an unknown attacker. The defense system has been turned into a threat on his life."

"Oh"

"We believe either an hacker or a villain with power over technology might be at fault."

You see, what you don't understand is why you were called for this. It feels suspicious.

"Do you want me to go after this hacker -"

"No. Not now at least. The mayor needs you to get him and his vice out of the building unharmed. The defenses he installed are quite dangerous when made into weapons so be careful"

"Am...am I going to work alone then?"

"Yes. Ocean Queen water manipulation could backfire around so much electronics and the building is too cramped for Sheriff's wings."

You think you understand, you nod at him, he looks at you.

"I'm ready"

"And don't stay out too long"

Cub wasn't kidding, as you dodge a literal laser you wonder just how paranoid the mayor must have been when he set up this defense system... This is a level of security you would think to find in a super secret governent base, not the mayor's office.

You don't have much time to wonder though as another laser almost hits you in the face and w- IS THAT A MACHINE GUN!?!?

You sigh as you take out one of your explosive arrows, you'll have to fight fire with fire if you want to get anywhere... hopefully the mayor won't mind a bit of property damage.

You really don't want a lawsuit right now by the mayor...or exile! Wait could the mayor even exile you if he wanted?

... You should ask Cub later.

*Martyn's pov*

You have been trapped in this office with Ren for what feels like hour now... It might have been, It's not like you can tell with the windows blacked and no clocks in the entire office... Why does Ren have literally 0 clocks in his office!?

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Ren shouting in your ear.

"We are doomed Martyn! Doomed I tell you! I knew they were coming for me and now we are going to die here!"

Who was coming from him? This is news to you.

"I ... I'm sure they must have sent someone to save us Ren. You are still the mayor, pretty important guy if you ask me."

"Who knows how long that will take my dude, we might have to stay here to starve for days! We'll have to result to cannibalism to stay alive!"

Ok what, how have we got to this point.

"Woah there, how about we *don't* do that actually? How does that sound mate?"

"Right, right... I am sorry Martyn."

...You stare at eachother... Without his voice in the background things are weirdly akward... He's always seemed so confident, you have never seen him this worried before...You hold Ren's hand, he seems surprised for a moment.

"It's going to be alright, I'm here with you"

"Yeah... Yeah, you'll protect me!"

Uh... You don't remember saying that but telling him no would just be too cruel.

"Right, you can count on me Ren."

"Of course dude! I trust you more then I would trust myself!"

Ren's face is suddenly so close to yours, right in front of you. You didn't expect it so you scream and fall back.

"Ah??!"

"Oh sorry dude! I didn't mean to jump at you like that... I got excited"

"It's...it's fine Ren"

"Are you sure?"

You are staring into his eyes and he is staring into yours... It wouldn't be too hard to just lean in and-

"Hello people! Hotguy here to save the day! Is everyone ok?"

...Motherfucker.

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[icarusredwings]

"I can't believe you made me fly!!" The man snarls, holding onto dear life to his harness strap, scared and agitated. "I fucking HATE planes!"

"Nice to see you haven't changed much, Logan." Hank mutters, not looking away from the sky.

Wade was looking out the window, ooohing and awwing at the scenery. "Aww come on, this isn't any different from the air drills in camp!" He smiles widely, his mouth wrinkles showing through his mask.

"I failed those!!"

"Oh- well.. I got an F for fantastic!" He grins, making Logan groan. "Of course you did..."

Birds of a feather I guess..

"They put me on snipe after that." He giggles.

Hank blinked a bit, glancing beside him. "You didn't bring any loaded guns did you?"

"Nope! Well-" he takes a small pistol off his calf, popping it open and unloading it. "Now I don't!"

Swallowing, Hank muttered. "Jesus Christ, save us.."

"I thought that was Elf's thing?" Logan mutters.

"It is but.." he glances to Wade as if he was a massive danger. "Never too late to start praying.. thats what Kurt always says. Speaking of which, he's off the radar too."

"What?" His thick brows scrunch, gritting his teeth, tearing into the seat as the plane jumped slightly in speed. "DON'T DO THAT!"

"My friend, you're fine, this is my latest model. The MXV-69"

A small chuckle came from Wade, making Beast sigh. "You haven't changed either I see.."

"What? Its funny."

"Numaric jokes are usually in my point of view but that one I never understood the humor of." He clicks a few buttons, easing up on the steering.

"That's what she said-" Wade whispers.

"Wade-" Logan grumbled. "So what's this about being 'off radar'?"

"Well- just as I said. He's off our radar. He volunteered to go in..."

Logans voice lowered, looking at the floor. "..Never came out..Is he..?"

"I don't think so. Mentioned something about having to 'rescue you back to salvation' a couple of times from these forests but... his tracker must have died. Or froze, because his heart line went flat this morning."

Was it terrible for Logan to think 'If you would have told me that, I would have come sooner.' ? Because he did. And now he felt guilty. He'd come to save Kurt, someone whos more then capable of finding his way, but not a 6 year old girl?

The plane was quiet.

"Logan.. just so you know.. I don't think you did it." Hank admits.

"...Didnt think I did what?" He knew exactly what he thought he didn't do.

"About the kid.. I don't think you did it."

"Thank you!! This is what I've been saying!! Local gym teacher goes nuts and tries to kill a kid? Doesn't seem right. There had to be something else going on!" Wades hands go up, excited that someone else believed his husband and not just himself.

"Why not?" He knew Hank was a man of science. He wouldn't believe something unless there was proof or a hell of a good case as to why.

"Well.. the thing is.. when I analyzed the kid, something was.. off. I've never seen anything like it. It was like he was... a shell."

"What?"

"Yes. It didn't match up with any of our data base either. The kid wasn't even enrolled."

Now, it was Wade's turn. "What!? No no no, that's gotta be wrong. I saw that kid all the time. He was in Gambits cooking class even. He was failing- sure- but we all have our vices."

"No, I mean. It was as if he were nothing but a husk. A host, maybe."

"Oh like Venom?"

"No. Yes? I'm not sure. S. H. E. I. L. D took him before I could finish testing..but if I read those readings right... Logan.. that kid was a plant."

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[uselessnbee]

everyone understands that Will had a hard time helping El and standing up for her because he himself has trauma from being bullied his whole life and doesn't know how to fight them back, his reaction to bullying is to freeze. but suddenly no one understands it when it comes to Mike and he's just called an asshole for not being able to stand up and fight El's bullies

i'm not saying he is innocent and did nothing wrong. he could have done more and just handle the situation better but he was just too focused on Will and was in his head and being the otherthinking oblivious dumbass that he is

but just imagine your girlfriend tells you she is having a good time and has friends, she does not mention anything bad and then suddenly she's getting bullied in front of you. when you've been bullied your whole life your first reaction is to freeze, to panic and just wait and hope it passes quickly and they'll leave you alone. Mike did not have any knowledge about her bullying or having any kind of problems, as long as he was aware those people were her friends. he himself has trauma from being bullied (he literally mentions it later on why yall keep forgetting??) and being suddenly thrown into a situation involving bullying can be really distressing.

when you have experience with being bullied even just seeing someone else getting bullied can make you freeze up and panic. and we know that Mike does not stand up for himself when he's the victim. even when you're not on the receiving end of the bullying but you just see it happening and suddenly you're a scared little kid again holding back tears desperately hoping for them to leave you alone.

and i know everyone wants to yell at me "you forgot about Mike standing up to Troy when they were saying shit about Will! so he can obviously stand up for his friends so why can't he for El??" and no i did not forget and yes you may be right but the situations are different. Mike was very well aware of Troy's bullying. he was involved in it. he was the victim there. he's had to deal with his bullying for years it was not a shocking revelation. however he did not know about El's situation at all and your reaction can be very different when you know about something and when you have no knowledge and it suddenly happens

again i'm not saying that he did nothing wrong. i'm just saying that we need to consider his trauma and his point of view and it could make him think less rationally and therefore not being able to help properly. maybe if he knew beforehand that something could go wrong he could be prepared and he would handle the situation better (even if it would be just them seeing Angela and her friends come and they would turn to Mike and say quickly that those people are mean to El he would still have at least some time and could prepare himself). but he did not know that and he was not prepared for this situation to suddenly escalate like this. he was unprepared and probably panicking and didn't know what to do so no he wasn't much of a help.

and maybe we should stop acting like this traumatised 14 years old kid needs to solve every problem and act rationally in every situation and not to make any mistakes (especially when he has no knowledge to prepare him for something distressing) and overall just putting everything on his shoulders and then insult and hate him when it does not end up perfectly well

and maybe i'm just being my overprotective extremely defensive self who's looking too much into this who knows

and i can't even properly put into words what i'm trying to say but if it makes sense to someone then great!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Okay, so not fanfic/writing stuff but do you ever think of how close Calla and Kody used to be? How sweet and bright and encouraging she was towards him when they were younger? How friendly and warm she was? How they smiled at each other? It makes me want to eat rocks.

[greed-the-dorkalicious]

All the #RyouSweep propaganda got me thinking like. Yeah we all criticize Ryou for STILL FUCKING GOING BACK FOR THE DAMN RING in Battle City (and every other time lbr), and rightfully so, but if we’re being honest. In his defense it WAS kind of horrendously irresponsible of the Yugis to just leave two wholeass Millennium Items just sitting on a table and then leave the room. Why did they do that