#i was like wow i thought i was doing really good staying up with all these new people and dynamics and lingo

[thewritetofreespeech]

I really think Gale needs to know that he is competent and good at things even without his magic/ without doing his magic.

Gale× woman girlfriend tav where they have soft sex and Gale want to enhance the experience with his magic, but reader shows him that he doesn't need to.

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When Tav told him that she loved him back, he thought his chest might explode from just pure excitement & relief. Not the orb.

He had been fairly certain that Tav felt the same as him. Mentally reviewed all their moments together. Stolen glances. That moment in the Weave that still seemed to linger on his fingertips even now. But one was never sure of these things until they happened. And given how his last ‘grand gesture’ had ended, Gale was nervous that this would be another defeat as well. Yet to be accepted, to be loved in return by someone he respected & admired again, Gale could die a happy man. Should the right moment Elminster spoke of was to come.

For now, however, he wanted to focus on the now. He wanted it to be perfect. A vision, just like Tav was to him. To show her how deep his affection was for her, even with their short time together. He had it all planned. To show her his home. To show him where he found the most peace and solace when not at her side. Then to make love in the way of the gods by a perfect mending of souls & mind. It would be perfect.

Yet when he told Tav of his plan, she denied him. Saying that she didn’t want illusions, just him.

“Are you sure?” Gale was caught off guard by her response. Expecting that, when offered the opportunity to experience what so few mortals could, she would jump at the chance. Even with his limitations on the Weave between the tadpole and Mystra’s bars, Gale knew he could get them close to his experience in the heavens. He wanted that for both of them. More than what these simple husks of flesh could bide them. “I can do more than woo you. I could wow you.”

Tav chuckled at his comment. Amused, even though he was being totally serious, and reaffirmed that she wanted the man, not the magic.

Gale was entirely nervous at this point but tried not to show it. He had a plan and all that was out the window. What was he supposed to do now?? The wizard endeavored to stay calm and continue with at least the original plan of being with Tav. He didn’t know if they would have a moment like this again and he would be gods damned if he was going to waste it.

Conjuring just a small bit of magic for a bed, as his back would never recover from making love on the hard ground, Gale smiled when he saw Tav fall back on it playfully. She was always so funny. This odd kind of silly mixed with bravery. Gale couldn’t remember the last time he had been with someone who was silly. Mystra was always so serious, and her wizard acolytes from his school days were no different.

He watched Tav sit up on the bed. Beckoning him over with a look and gesture of her hand that held more magic in it to command than any spell Gale could conjure. He had to obey.

Climbing onto the bed with her, Gale leaned in to kiss Tav a second time. Deeper than the first. Her lips were soft, but a little chapped from their journey. It was warm though. That heat seemed to fill Gale to his bones. He’d forgotten what it was like being with a mortal after so much time with an immortal. Mystra always seemed happy with their coupling. Open and willing to reciprocate, but it was always incorporeal for them. Gale had made offers to pleasure her in other ways. Use what skills he had to please his goddess, but she always declined. As if unwilling to let her once mortal body turn divine be touched in any way resembling a human. At the time Gale had been contented with that. But with the clarity that distance and perspective could now offer, he could now see the benefits of both.

Gale gasped into their kiss as he felt Tav’s fingers brush over the front of his tunic. Down from his chest to his belly. The muscles twitch even with the slightest touch. He had forgotten about that too. Touch.

He moved from kissing Tav’s lips down to her neck. Her breath hitched as her pulse hammered against his lips. Feeling her life’s drum just there against her skin. Gale could understand why Astarion was so tempted now. As he kissed her neck and collarbone, his fingers danced over her body. Gale may not have magic in his fingers when it came to locks, but he was certainly dexterous enough to be able to do lacings & the like. Their garments melting away as if by actual magic.

Gale took a moment to push up on his hands and get a full look at Tav. She was beautiful. Radiant. The light on her skin. The pert of her breasts in the night air. The imperfections of scars, freckles, and spots here & there all perfect. The perfection of realism.

The wizard swooped back down to finish kissing Tav all the way down. Moving to her sternum. Toying with her breasts. The weight of them soft but noticeable as he worked them in his hand. He moaned in tandem with Tav as her fingers brushed into his hair as he suckled at her breast. Feeling her there, reciprocating, listening to her enjoy what he was doing to her, Gale thought he might burst. He was so hard, and the bedding he had conjured provided little relief to the pressure as he rubbed against it.

Gale continued his path down. Kissing over Tav’s stomach until he came to the apex between her thighs. “Can you open a little more for me, my love?” He was hesitant to use the term of endearment. Fearful that he might have pushed too far. Perhaps they were not ready for pet names. But when he saw Tav part for him with a shy little smile, he decided he would call her that every day.

Her scent flowed up to him as her legs parted. Sweet yet sensual. Gale felt his mouth literally water in reflex. How long had it been since he tasted a woman fully? How longer still had it been since he’d done this with a woman that he loved?

Even with the lapse in time, it was like a fish to water for Gale. Based on Tav’s moans & shutters he had not forgotten how to please with his verbose, practiced tongue. He swiped up through her center, teasing the nub at the cleft, before sliding back down to collect her sweet honey. His hands massaged her thighs which were warm and lax by his ears. Gods. How had he gone so long without this in his life? He felt like a starving man sat down in front of his first meal.

Gale moaned into her cunt as he felt Tav reach for him between her legs. Fingers in his hair. Gripping and pulling in pleasure. His cock was already rock hard but it jutted in excitement with every tightening of her fingers. He made quick work to finish lest he truly embarrass himself on their first rendezvous.

Tav cried out as she came. Her thighs tightening in his hand. She looked beautiful lying there all spent. The slightest hint of perspiration on her skin illuminated in the moonlight. Gale had seen gods, but he could think of no sight finer.

He crawled over Tav again until they were nose to nose. “Are you sure?” He wanted to ask again. Maybe she had changed her mind? Maybe this was enough for him to hope for?

Tav just wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her knees against his side. “Do it.”

The commanding voice sent a shiver down Gale’s spine. Enough to make him almost cum right there. He restrained himself and reached down to moisten his cock with spittle and pre-cum. Then he lined up with Tav’s entrance and pushed forward.

The two of them moaned. Gale did not expect how hot inside her would be, how tight. With Mystra everything was so open and vast. The vastness of eternity and the Weave open to them to express their feelings. Here, with Tav, everything seemed to file down to a single point. A single moment. Just the two of them in the whole wide world. Gale moved his hips back and pressed forward again. Starting a slow, easy rhythm. He wanted this moment to last forever; or at least as long as possible.

Tav held on to him and moved her hips back to meet him. The perfect partnership, just like their adventure. Gale leaned down to kiss her and was met with equal passion. Tongues melding, gasping breaths, hearts racing. Everywhere Tav touched him seemed to leave a burning trail across his body, waiting to consume him. Had it always been like this with mortals and he had just forgotten? No. Gale knew he would remember this if it had happened. It had to be Tav.

His hips sped up and Tav rose to meet him with glee. He could feel that he was going to climax soon, and it became his single focus for the next few moments before stumbled in his thrust with a low, powerful moan. White hot flashes across his eyes as he was sure was spilling inside her.

Gale broke from a final kiss with Tav in their coupling and rested his head against hers. He felt tired, but indeed sated as he anticipated he would be. Complete. Should the world and the orb come to swallow him whole, Gale would be able to do it with but one regret now on his mind. That he couldn’t be with her longer.

The wizard carefully dislodged himself from Tav and pulled her close with the conjured blanket to wrap them in. “We’ll need to head back before morning.” He reasoned. The others would come looking for them, and his spell of stars would not last forever. But it would for a little while longer. For now, he just wanted to spend the remainder of the night with Tav in his arms. As a man. As two lovers. Not a wizard and adventure on a path to save the world. Just him and Tav.

[arc-misadventures]

The Beach: Ra

Jaune: Okay... wow she was seriously repressed... She really needed that...

Jaune: That was intense...

Jaune: I hope the scratch makes have healed...

Jaune: Hmmm...?

Jaune: Well, my aura's at full, so it should have been healed by now.

Jaune: Okay...

Jaune: I wonder if that video came out alright...

Jaune: Okay... Let's get going.

Jaune: Hmm... This side of the beach is pretty empty. I wonder why?

: It's because of all of the rocks, the tend to keep people away.

Jaune: The rocks? Well there's a lot of rocks, but why is the people staying away because of the rocks?

: People want to lie down on their beach towel, and suntan. Do you think people want to lie down on a hard jagged rock, instead of soft smooth sand?

Jaune: Hmm... That's a fair point... Wait. That voice sounds feminine? That's not the sound of my inner monologue! Who is speaking to me?!

: I'm over here~!

Jaune: Ah-ha! There you... are...?!

: Hello, Jaune~!

Jaune: H-Hi, Mrs. Branwen...

Raven: Didn't I tell you, Jaune: Call me, Raven~!

Jaune: Okay... R-Raven...

Raven: That's better~!

Jaune: S-So... Y-You're looking good... very, very good...

Raven: Oh, thank you~!

Jaune: S-So... What brings you over here...?

Raven: Oh, it's quiet. You don't see any screaming kids, whiney brats, dude bros...

Jaune: Those are good reasons...

Raven: And, since no one is coming here, I have this section of the beach all to myself~!

Jaune: Oh... Oh that sounds great, you don't have to deal with anyone's bullshit, because you're all alone.

Raven: Indeed it is. Now then, care to explain those scratch marks on your back?

Jaune: S-Scratch marks... what are you talking about...?

Raven: I can see the marks on your back, Jaune. So, care to explain yourself~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Yeah, it's pointless to deny it...

Raven: Well~?

Jaune: Haa... Okay, I slept with, Willow Schnee in the showers back there...

Raven: You fucked, Willow Schnee?!

Jaune: We all so filmed it, because she wanted to send it to, Jacques to show how a real man does it...

Raven: You filmed it, and sent it to, Jacques?! Fuck that's hot~!

Jaune: Yeah, will asked me to live out her kinks, and honestly... she made one hell of a deal. And, well... scratch marks...

Raven: So what were, Willow's kinks?

Jaune: Young man reshaping her guts, cucking, Jacques. Stuff like that.

Raven: Damn, Willow is a nasty girl~! And, I thought I was kinky; I'm into my lover being rough with me; Pulling my hair, calling me his bitch, taking it up the ass, breeding, things like that.

Jaune: Well... Yeah... I've heard that a lot today... seems pretty common...

Raven: I do like to do it in public.

Jaune: P-Public?

Raven: Yeah, in public, some place where I could get caught being railed by some hot young sexy stud~! In a place like this for example...

Jaune: T-This place...?

Raven: Yeah, behind those rocks. I mean, how many people wouldn't like to live out the fantasy of taking a sexy piece of ass behind a boulder at the beach~!

Jaune: At the beach...

Raven: So... what do you say, Jaune? You interested in living out this old gals fantasy~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Where's the best place to do this?

Raven: I found a nice place over there~!

Jaune: Okay, let's go!

Raven: Oh, and to warn you, Jaune: I'm a screamer.

Jaune: Oh, well it looks like you may get that audience like you asked for~!

Raven: If they're a sexy girl, can we invite her to join us? I love having threesomes with my wife. Having one at the beach... Oh gods, doesn't that sound so fucking hot~!

Jaune: Why do you call her over here, she can join us while we're at it~! She'll know where we are based on your screams~!

Raven: FUCK YES~!

///

Here's one for you @lar-mx Enjoy!

Link to Original Post.

[silent-stories]

Random thought about noah's mustache:

Noah had been growing out his mustache for a while now, and while you hadn’t said much about it, you’d definitely noticed. At first, it was just a little stubble, something barely there that you could ignore. But now? Now it was starting to become a real issue, one that you were currently experiencing firsthand.

It had been a lazy day, the kind where neither of you had much to do, so you’d been sprawled out together on the couch, tangled up in each other. The soft hum of music played in the background, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Noah’s arms wrapped securely around you. He was always affectionate, but today he seemed extra touchy, pulling you closer every chance he got, tucking his chin over your head, running his fingers up and down your back in soothing motions.

“You’re really snuggly today,” you murmured, tilting your head up to look at him.

Noah grinned, his brown eyes meeting yours. “So are you,” he teased, shifting you more comfortably in his lap. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You huffed a small laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “It’s just one of those days. And you’re comfy.”

He chuckled, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “Yeah? You planning to stay here all day?”

“Maybe.” You nuzzled against him. “Depends on if you plan to move.”

Noah smiled, “Guess you’re stuck, then.”

You hummed in agreement, completely content. For a while, you just stayed there, soaking in the quiet, the way his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear. But then, he shifted slightly, one hand tilting your chin up, his eyes flickering over your face before he leaned in.

The kiss started soft, slow, just the gentle press of his lips against yours, warm and familiar. You sighed, your hands curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you kissed him back, sinking into the moment. But then, as he deepened the kiss, something prickled against your skin.

You ignored it at first, but the more he moved, the more it tickled, and not in a good way. His mustache brushed against your upper lip, and you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled back slightly, blinking up at him. Noah raised a brow. “What?”

You hesitated before bringing your hands up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. You loved him, you really did, but you couldn’t do this anymore.

“Noah,” you started sweetly, rubbing your fingers along his jawline. “You’re really, really pretty.”

His lips curled into a smug smile. “I like where this is going.”

“I mean it,” you continued, staring at him with nothing but adoration. “Like, you’re almost unfairly attractive. A whole problem.”

His grin widened, his arms tightening around your waist. “Go on.”

“But…” You let your thumbs drag down over the little mustache, your lips pressing into a small pout. “This?”

His smirk faltered. “What about this?”

“It’s gotta go.”

Noah blinked. Then he let out a loud laugh, his head tipping back. “Wait, that’s what this is about?”

“Yes!” you whined, still cradling his face. “It’s attacking me every time we kiss! I love you, but I also love my face not being scratched mid-makeout.”

He shook his head, clearly trying not to laugh even harder. “Oh, so that’s why you stopped kissing me? You just don’t like my mustache?”

You huffed. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just—” You sighed, rubbing his jaw again for emphasis. “This thing physically bothers me.”

Noah gave you an exaggerated frown, his grip on your waist tightening playfully. “Wow. So, let me get this straight—you don’t think my mustache is sexy?”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I think you’re sexy.”

“But not the mustache?”

You hesitated. “Not when it is attacking me.”

That was the final straw—Noah lost it, laughter shaking through his chest as he pulled you even closer, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re unbelievable. It's a bit of mustache, not a fucking lion.”

“I’m just being honest!” you defended, laughing with him.

He sighed dramatically, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Alright, fine. Since you asked so sweetly, I’ll shave it.”

You gasped in excitement, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolled his eyes, still grinning. “You're lucky you’re cute.”

You beamed, snuggling into his chest. “Good. Now, let’s get back to the cuddling part.”

[ledesaid]

Billy Constantine #2

└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴

What can be expected from both of them?

A lot.

But ending up in the waiting room of purgatory, that is truly a test of patience, and it's costing both of them.

John: He could have sent us to the front of the line...

Billy: We're not going to ruin someone's afterlife just because you're incapable of standing in line.

John: Lad, these souls have been here for hundreds of years! If we stay and wait, we'll present our cases instead of a complaint!

Billy: We're not going to do that!

John: At least stop whispering, no one cares about our business on this side of the beyond.

Jon lights a cigarette while Billy walks around a bit.

He doesn't expect to find a few souls he met while searching for his genetic donor.

Billy: Is that you, Adam?

Adam: Friend? What are you doing here? I thought you had a free pass because of all that soul business and the firstborn nonsense...

Billy: Free pass?

Adam: Little red, your name is on the priority window!

Billy: My name?

Adam: You're a celebrity, your name is next to that Constantine guy and a couple of famous ones...

Billy: Wow... thanks. I was really thinking of making that whole queue, I have urgent matters to attend to. But what happened to you? How did you end up here?

Adam: I finished off the killer of my friends and I think I crossed the line...

Billy: Is there anything I can do?

Adam: You're too good to be here, if you can, leave for me, okay? For some reason, you don't have chains like the rest of the condemned...

Billy: Do you want me to deliver a message to someone?

Adam: Forget it, but if you can make me a grave up there, I won't be angry... I like carnations and girly stuff... Right! Tell Mandy I hid dad's money under the garden tree, it will help her a lot!

Billy: Consider it done...

Billy said goodbye with a sad hug.

John: Why do you have that look, lad? Did these poor idiots scam you?

Billy: Shut up. I found a friend... he told me we can go to the priority window.

John: Is there one of those here?

Billy: I believe him.

John: Good, let's go find it.

He got up without a fight this time.

John: Don't forget, we'll file a complaint for the illegal expropriation of two living human souls without a valid contract.

Billy: I know, and I also remember not to sign any additional contracts, not to lose the coins for the ferryman, and not to talk to the older souls. I'm not a kid, you know?

John: You still don't shave, to me you're an annoying baby...

Billy: And to me, you're an annoying pimple.

John: Great, a preteen... Can this get any worse?

...: Jonny?

John : *inserts British insult*

-----

Part 1 | U are here

[sturnstars5]

anatomy- chris sturniolo

based off of the most recent friday video (truth or eat)

summary: when you overhear chris labeling women’s body parts incorrectly, you make sure he knows the right anatomy afterwards…

tw: mdni, oral sex, face riding, sub chris, dom reader, suggestive terms, language

“so, chris, what are you gonna do when your future kid asks what a vagina is?” nick asks chris sarcastically

“well…i would tell them it’s a woman’s penis!” chris says, making everyone burst out laughing.

you’re sitting on the couch watching it all unfold, your 3 best friends laughing over woman’s penises and nick being an uncle.

the triplets keep filming, scarfing down tacos and burgers as they answer questions about themselves.

finally, they wrap the video up, telling their fans goodbye as they shut off the camera.

“well i’m gonna go to sleep, i have shit to do tomorrow.” nick says, walking to his room.

“yeah i’m gonna go hop on fort. y/n, chris, do you wanna join?” matt asks.

“nah im good. thanks though.” you reply.

“i might later.” chris replies.

matt shrugs and walks off, leaving you and your best friend chris watching movies all night on the couch.

you’re watching mean girls as a thought pops up in your mind, does he know how a woman’s body works?

you tried to forget about the though throughout the movie. that was your best friend, and no matter how attractive he looked right beside you, you shouldn’t be thinking about him sexually.

but it was so hard. the way the tv light reflected off of his big blue eyes, the slight stubble he had on his face, his biceps popping out of the tank top he was wearing.

it’s like he wanted you to think about him.

“hey chris?”

“yeah, what’s up?”

“did you mean what you said earlier?” you ask hesitantly.

“about what?”

“about vaginas being woman’s dicks and stuff, were you joking? or-“

“yes i was joking.” chris laughs, making you feel embarrassed.

“i mean, i think i was at least. i’ve never really seen one before.” chris admits after he finally stops laughing.

“so you’re..?”

“a virgin? yeah i am.”

you and chris were always close, but you had never gone as far as asking about his sex life. it was like an unspoken rule that you just didn’t talk about it.

“do you ever want to know what one looks like? because i mean, i could show you.” you say, seeing the obvious tent forming in chris’ pants.

“i mean ive thought about it…and seen one in videos before, but not in real life.” he replies.

“here chris, let me show you.” you say seductively.

he nods frantically, desperate to see your hot, wet core. you slowly undo the string on your shorts, letting them loosely fall to the floor, along with your shirt.

you instruct chris to lay down on the couch, making sure he stays put where he’s at.

lastly, you rip off your panties, exposing your wet pussy to your desperate best friend.

“wow.” chris says, stunned.

you walk over closer to him, putting your leg on either side of his shoulders as you hover over him, your pussy inches away from his nose.

“are you sure you wanna do this?” you ask.

“mhm!” chris grunts out.

you carefully sit down on his face, not putting your full weight on him.

at first he just sits there, with his tongue out and eyes wide open staring up at you, not knowing what to do.

“what do i do now?” he muffles, his cheeks and chin already slick with your juices.

“just…i don’t know..lick it.”

he does as he’s told, carefully running his tongue up and down your folds, not missing a single inch of your warm skin. he presses his hands down on your thighs, forcing you fully down onto his face.

“oh, fuck chris, are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you moan, amazed at how experienced chris seems at this.

he ignores your question, digging his tongue into your aching hole further. he buries his face into your bottom half, like he’s trying to mold himself to you.

his tongue puts more pressure on your clit now, pressing rough circles onto the sensitive nerves. you try to squirm on his face out of desperation, but the firm grip he has on your thighs leaves your unable to move.

as he eats you like a man starved, you reach down to chris sweatpants after noticing his hard dick.

you pull the pants down as best as you can without getting off of chris’ face, feeling him jerk as you run your hand over his boxers.

you grab the waistband of his boxers, peeling them off as his hard errection springs out. you spit on your hand, running it slowly over his long length.

chris bucks his hips up in need, groaning into your pussy, making it vibrate.

you stroke him faster, cupping his balls in one hand while gliding your hand over the rest of his dick in the other.

chris is going faster than ever on your pussy, relentlessly sucking the tender skin into his mouth as you jerk him off.

“mm, chris, keep going, i’m gonna cum.”

that must have been his inspiration, he goes faster and faster until he feels your walls pulsate and your sweet release coat his chin.

he still hasn’t came yet, so you keep stroking him faster and faster.

you go slower all of a sudden, teasing him just as he is about to release

“fuck! shit!” chris moans, unable to keep quiet.

“please please please!” he aimlessly groans.

“please what? use your words chris.”

“please let me come!”

you take pity on him, picking up your pace until you feel thick ropes of his warm liquid coat your hand.

“so, what did you think?” you ask as you both lay there breathlessly.

chris nods with a goofy smile on his face, unable to form any real sentence after what just happened.

“i’m guessing you know a women’s anatomy a little bit better now.”

[dragonflylady77]

Am I dreaming?

Harringrove | rating PG | 3.5k | trans Steve, fluff, first kiss

Summary:

Steve is at work when he hears a voice he hasn't heard since graduation. He wasn't expecting it, especially since he has changed quite a lot since then...

Read on Ao3

This fic is a birthday present for @intothedysphoria ❤️

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?”

Steve recognises the voice before he casts his eyes on its owner. Billy fucking Hargrove. Bane of Steve’s high school years. The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.”

Steve isn’t sure how he managed to sound so deadpan when he’s feeling less than calm on the inside. He hasn’t seen Hargrove since graduation. They were sitting next to each other, perks of being alphabet buddies, and Hargrove wouldn’t stop with the live commentary and constant innuendos.

With a sigh, Steve finishes folding the shirt on the top of the pile on the counter and looks up to find Hargrove standing in the doorway of the store. He hovers there for a moment before he walks up to the counter and stops in front of Steve.

Steve takes a moment to really look at him. Hargrove’s hair is a bit shorter than it was in high school, and his shirt is still unbuttoned almost all the way, showing off miles of golden skin and a light smattering of chest hair he was missing when they were teenagers. 

Steve feels something tighten in his chest when he feels Hargrove’s eyes roam over his body and he steels himself for the inevitable remarks. He looked decidedly less male back in high school than he does now. 

“Can I help you with anything?” he asks when Hargrove stays silent. 

“Oh, um, no, I just…” Hargrove stammers and Steve stares. 

What the fuck is going on? He’s never known Billy Hargrove to run out of things to say. Steve throws a quick look around Murray’s Clothing Emporium and realizes that the couple who was looking at the sunglasses display have left without buying anything. He’s alone with Hargrove and he’s not sure how he feels about this.

“I work next door. Started yesterday,” Hargrove starts again and Steve nods. “I saw you walk past and I guess I needed to check it was really you.”

“Why?” Wow, Steve is nailing this conversation thing.

Once again Hargrove seems at a loss for words. And Steve isn’t sure if it’s the lighting but it looks like the guy is blushing and what the fuck? 

This is so far removed from the usual reaction Steve gets from people, especially someone who knew him back in high school when his name wasn’t Steve. 

Hargrove’s gaze drops to his name tag then he makes eye contact again. Steve decides to wait him out. This is the weirdest interaction he’s had in a while, and he’s worked in retail for the past four years.

“Steve, huh?” Hargrove says, a grin gracing his full lips. “Suits you.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up and he knows he’s blushing but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Um… thanks.” 

Hargrove’s phone dings and he checks it before looking at Steve again. “Fuck, sorry, I have to go. Shift starting. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

“Sure…”

With another grin and a little wave, Hargrove walks out and Steve stands there dumbfounded.

He’s still standing there five minutes later when Robin comes in for her shift. Steve shakes it off when Robin calls out his name and he greets his best friend, before going back to folding shirts.

“You all good, Stevie?” Robin asks as she puts her bag under the counter and sits on the stool behind him.

“I think so.” Steve isn’t sure how he was feeling. He is still trying to process the encounter.

“What happened? Do I need to cut a bitch?” Robin looks so serious and it warms Steve’s heart.

“Billy Hargrove came in to say hi. He works next door at the coffee shop,” Steve hears himself say, his focus on what he’s doing, but he hears Robin’s gasp.

“What?”

“He said, and I quote, he saw me walk past and needed to check it was really me.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Robin says and Steve chuckles.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Did he say anything else?” She knows the history and he can feel her concern.

“He said my name suited me and then he had to go to work. He even waved at me when he left.”

“Oh my god, Steve! You know what that means, right?” Robin sounds way too excited about this. Steve doesn’t get it. Sure, it is unexpected and a bit strange but whatever. 

Robin gets off the stool and touches his arm. “Come on, Steve. Connect the dots.”

Steve tries to guess what she is talking about. “He did some growing up and he’s no longer the douchebag he was in high school?”

“Well, yes, that, obviously, but also, the guy is totally into you, dingus.”

“What? No. No way.” There’s no universe in which a guy as hot as Billy Hargrove would be into the mess that is Steve. And yet… the guy came into the store to check it really was Steve, even though they hadn't seen each other since graduation, and Steve looked so different. And his opening line… Definitely adds stock to Robin’s crazy theory.

“Steve… Remember when we were in high school, and how you said he was kinda hitting on you but not really? How he was all with the innuendos but never actually asked you out on a date?”

“Yeah… What’s your point?” Steve is over this conversation because it makes his brain hurt. He doesn’t need to relive high school bullshit on a Saturday morning.

“It always confused me then, because my gaydar is never wrong, but now it makes perfect sense.”

“No, actually, nothing makes sense right now.”

“Sweetie, Billy Hargrove is very gay and very into you.” 

***

Steve can’t get what Robin said out of his mind. He spent the last couple of weeks going over that initial encounter with Billy Hargrove, analyzing and overthinking every gesture and every word. 

He went to the coffee shop next door five times to get coffee for him and Rob, and Billy remembered his order every time. Robin won’t shut up about it.

Of course, he’s attracted to Billy, the guy is basically sex on legs, and Steve has eyes, okay? He worked out he was bisexual in senior year, and came out to Robin who displayed absolutely zero surprise. 

Being bi and trans in Hawkins, Indiana, was a scary time and moving to San Francisco with Robin after graduation allowed him the freedom he needed to become his true self. His parents took a while to adjust but Steve getting his top surgery really proved to them that it wasn’t just a phase and they finally don’t misgender him anymore. 

Steve is finishing balancing the till at the end of the day when he hears the bell over the door. Fuck. He forgot to lock the door after Robin left. Again.

“Sorry, we’re actually closed,” he says without looking up, slamming the till drawer shut and hoping whoever it is will turn around and leave. But the bell doesn’t ring again and the footsteps come closer so Steve glances up.

“Billy. Hi. What, um, what are you doing here?”

“Hey. Robin said you were closing today and I—”

“When did you talk to her?” Steve regrets the way he worded his question when Billy recoils like he hit him. “Sorry,” he quickly adds, “I just meant… I didn’t know you knew each other. I don’t… I don’t have a problem with it. At all.”

“She has been coming in when she’s on her break. We, um, we talk about books, mostly. And queer history. Turns out we have some of the same classes in college.”

“Oh.” Steve can see why Robin would be excited about that. “That’s cool.” Steve grabs his bag and his keys and walks around the counter to where Billy is still standing. He still had no idea why Billy showed up but he figures they can continue their chat outside. “I need to lock up.”

“Yeah, okay, sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” Billy says, nodding as he starts turning around to leave. 

Okay, the guy is definitely blushing this time, Steve is sure of it. “Billy, wait. You could… you could wait for me, if you want? I’ll just be a minute.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Cool.” Steve watches Billy walk out of the store then he goes around turning off the lights he needs to turn off, and leaving on the couple that stay on. He sets the alarm and steps outside, locking the door then securing the padlock on the chain.

“Right, now you wanna tell me why you came over?” he asks Billy, putting his keys in his bag.

“I, um, I was wondering if you might want to grab a drink with me sometime,” Billy says, looking straight at Steve and Steve feels his heart rate speed up.

Hoo boy. Robin was right. He can hear her ‘I told you so’ from where he’s standing, a foot away from Billy Hargrove. Billy is wearing a baby blue button down shirt, with the collar up and at least three buttons undone, and dark blue jeans. He looks really good. The color of his shirt is making his eyes even bluer than usual. When did Steve start paying attention to Billy’s eyes?

“Forget about it. It was stupid idea.” Billy shakes his head, looking dejected.

Steve realizes he’s taken too long to reply. Fuck. 

“I’m free now!” he says quickly, his hand shooting across the gap between them to grab Billy’s wrist before he has a chance to move. He smiles at Billy. “Are you hungry? I’m starving and there’s this really good diner down the street that makes a mean burger.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy grins at him and Steve lets go of his wrist to bump shoulders with him instead. 

***

“Sooooooo…”

Steve looks up from his breakfast burrito to find Robin staring at him with one eyebrow raised. He doesn’t trust that look. It always gets them in trouble.

“What is it now?” He stops his sigh just in time but it’s a close thing.

“How's your boyfriend?” Robin asks, breaking eye contact to go back to her own food. 

They’re sitting at their tiny kitchen table in their apartment and the sun is streaming in through the window. Robin has the day off today but Steve is closing. He’s made plans to meet up with Billy after work. They’re going to some taco food truck Billy swears by.

“What?” Steve is pretty sure he would know if he had a boyfriend. Right?

“Billy, dingus. How's Billy?” Robin says with a grin and Steve narrows his eyes at her. 

What the fuck?

“Billy isn't my boyfriend, Robin.” It’s not like Steve would be opposed to the idea, really, Billy is pretty much his dream guy, and Steve made his peace with that a long time ago. Way back in high school, even, but he’s not about to jeopardize his only friendship with a guy on the off-chance that said guy might be into dudes, no matter what Robin claims. 

Then, with the added layer of Steve being trans, that’s an extra risk he’s definitely not ready for. Even if Billy already knows about that part.

“Riiiiiiiight.” She still has that look on her face. Steve doesn’t care for it. “You've been going on dates for like two months now. Come on. He never shuts up about you when I see him.”

“No, I'm serious. We’re just friends. We hang out. We talk. It’s nice.” 

Steve is enjoying having a guy friend for the first time in his life and he’s trying to not overthink it. They grab a meal after Steve’s shift a few times a week and talk for hours. 

Billy opens up about his dad who was a complete asshole, and how much better his life has been since he left Hawkins. They bond over moving on from small town narrow-mindedness and feeling free to be who they want to be. 

Billy tells Steve about the books he’s been reading and doesn’t seem to mind that Steve doesn’t really have much to contribute to that conversation. 

In turn, Steve shares all the weird shit he’s seen at the store since he started working there. Billy never makes him feel like he’s stupid or too much, and Steve could listen to him speak for hours.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says again because Robin is still looking at him with that look on her face.

“Stevie, that boy is so gone on you and you can’t even see it,” she says, shaking her head. 

Steve rolls his eyes, because his best friend is starting to sound like a broken record. He’s lost his appetite and leaves the table to go get ready for work, her words stuck in his mind all the same.

What if she’s right? a little voice in his head keeps saying. Steve tells it to shut up and focuses on the day ahead instead.

***

Steve worked the morning shift today and he's meeting Billy for a late lunch, in a bookstore that doubles as a coffee shop he's never heard of. 

Billy texted earlier to let Steve know he didn't have to rush, on accounts of Billy having the day off.

When Steve walks into the store, he spots Billy at a table towards the back, next to the queer romance section. He wonders if Billy told Robin about this place already.

One of the workers stops by Billy's table and Steve observes their interaction. The woman is young and very pretty, with dark blonde hair in a messy bun, and curves in all the right places. She's clearly interested in Billy, Steve can tell by the way she giggles and plays with her hair as she answers Billy's question. 

Steve wants to shove her into the closest book display to get her away from Billy. Okay, yes, so he hasn't stopped thinking about Billy as more than a friend ever since Robin called their outings dates the other week. 

That doesn't mean he is going to do anything about it. He won't jeopardize their friendship like that. He can't afford to. He takes a deep breath and makes his way across the store. 

“Steve, hey, you made it!” Billy says with a huge grin when he sees him. 

“Sorry I'm late.” Steve takes off his backpack, dropping it in the chair closest to him, before sitting across from Billy.

“Nah, you're good, told you not to rush.”

“What's your girlfriend's name?” Steve asks, realising as he says it that this should definitely have stayed an inside thought.

“What…?” Billy looks confused by the question and whatever he sees in Steve's expression.

“I'm sorry.” Steve glances down the aisle where the girl disappeared then back at Billy. “She's pretty and you're free to date whoever you want. Did you want to introduce us? Is that why we're meeting here?” 

Oh God, is he really saying all that bullshit? He needs to stop. He feels his face flush from embarrassment and looks down at the menu on the table.

“We're meeting here because I am looking for a present for Max's birthday and I wanted to scope out a few books and I know the food here is really good.”

Before Steve can apologise again, Billy continues, “Also, even if there wasn't already someone I like, I wouldn't ask her, because she's a woman and I'm extremely gay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” 

Steve shakes his head. “I'm sorry, Billy. I don't know what came over me.”

He gasps when Billy reaches over and takes his hand.

“Steve…”

“Yes, Billy?” his voice a whisper in the cacophony of the busy lunchtime crowd.

“I feel very lucky you're willing to spend all this time with me, after the way I behaved around you in high school.”

“I enjoy spending time with you, Billy. No hardship there,” Steve replies, in a feeble attempt at humour, that falls flat.

“Good to know. Steve, I—”

“Are you ready to order?” the server asks, seeming blinking out of nowhere, tablet in hand. It's a different girl than the one Steve spotted earlier.

Steve tries to pull his hand out of Billy's but Billy isn't letting go. The whole situation is feeling a bit overwhelming.

“We're gonna need another five minutes, thanks,” Billy said, his eyes never leaving Steve.

“You got it, Blue.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

“What's with the nicknames?” Once again, the words are out before he has the chance to stop them and he knows he's blushing.

“Heather is my best friend, pretty boy. We met at the Gay and Lesbian Alliance at Berkeley.”

“Oh, my god. That's Heather? I understand Robin's reaction a lot better. She's so totally her type.” Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “Robin talks about her day and night. Hasn't stopped since she attended a meeting at the Alliance last month.”

Billy chuckles, then picks up Steve's hand on both of his. 

Steve looks down at Billy's hands. They are so warm, it wakes up the butterflies in his belly. He likes it. 

“Steve, I realise now I should have been clearer that first night when I asked if you wanted to grab a drink with me.”

“What do you mean?” Steve thinks of all those times Billy waited for him after work and they explored San Francisco eateries together. How Robin had said these were dates, and how Steve had said they weren't, while secretly wishing they were.

“I was trying to ask you out. Clearly did a shit job of it if you think I'm interested in anyone else.”

“Billy…” Steve's usually overactive brain screeches to a halt. 

“I like you, Steve Harrington. A lot. I felt such a strong connection with you in high school, but it didn't make sense to me at the time. I knew I was gay and you…”

Steve winces. “Yeah.” He doesn't need Billy to spell it out. 

“So when I saw you walk past the coffee shop, I had to follow you, make sure it was you. That you weren't a figment of my imagination. You looked…”

Hanging from Billy's every word, Steve whispers, “Tell me. Please.”

“You looked like I'd wished you out of one of the dreams I had in high school.” 

Steve puts his free hand up to his mouth to muffle his whimper. He blinks a few times to keep tears away but they slide down his cheeks anyway.

“Getting to know you these past weeks has been amazing, Steve, but if you don't feel the same way, you better tell me before Hank brings you a drink, because you'll probably end up wearing it.”

A volcano erupting in his chest, Steve abruptly stands up, his hand sliding out of Billy's before he gets his backpack off the chair, swinging it onto his shoulders. When he looks down at Billy a second later, he notices how Billy's face falls as he looks away. This won't do.

“Steve, I'm sor—”

Leaning forward to grab Billy's wrist, Steve locks eyes with him. “I feel the same, Billy, of course, I do,” he whispers in a rush. “I've had a crush on you since high school and I will not have our first kiss in public with random people staring.”

“Oh.” Billy's eyes go wide. “Oh!”

He scrambles out of his chair so fast it tips over and clatters on the ground, causing a few people to turn around. He shrugs it off and takes Steve's hand, linking their fingers and pulling him towards the exit.

Feeling like all his Christmases have come at once, Steve follows eagerly.

“Sorry, Hank, maybe next time!” Billy calls out as they walk out and Steve laughs, the warm fuzzies filling him like never before. 

They're rushing down the pavement for about a block when Billy stops to unlock a door. He steps in, yanking Steve behind him before he slams the door.

Steve is still laughing when Billy crowds him against the door, only stopping when Billy cups his face with both hands.

“Hey,” Steve says, wrapping his arms around Billy's waist and pulling him closer until they're pressed together from chest to knees.

“Hey, pretty boy. Am I dreaming right now?”

Steve snorts. “You said that when you saw me at the store that day.”

“As I recall, you said something about me not creaming my pants…”

“I did…” Steve's gaze drops to Billy's lips and he feels a zing of heat burst through him when he sees a flash of Billy's tongue. 

There is no silencing his whimper this time. Steve dips his head and presses his lips to Billy's.

The heated way Billy licks into his mouth is even better than anything Steve ever imagined.

He never wants to stop.

And from the way Billy's fingers are buried in his hair and holding him in place, he is pretty sure Billy feels the same.

[hunieday]

9th Anniversary story - Chapter 4 : A serious match-up.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - (to be continued)

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Reporter: Next up is the shuttle run!

Reporter: When the music starts, you’ll begin running. Every time the sound plays, you need to touch the line 20 meters ahead with your foot, then turn around and come back.

Reporter: This test serves to measure endurance. It’s easier to understand if you see it, so we’ll have a staff member demonstrate.

Staff: Here I go.

Izumi Mitsuki: Ah, I see.

Momo: You keep up with the song’s tempo and go back and forth.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Momo-san, this seems like something you’d be really good at.

Momo: Probably. You gotta run around like this all the time when playing soccer.

Momo: But hey, Gaku seems like he’d be great at this too, no? You’ve got stamina and willpower.

Yaotome Gaku: I’ll do my best to not lose to you, Momo-san.

Tenn Kujo: Nanase-san, are you really doing the shuttle run?

Nanase Riku: Yeah.

Tenn Kujo: The shuttle run is…

Izumi Iori: No need to worry. If anything happens, I’ll stop him.

Izumi Iori: Nanase-san, don’t push yourself too hard. Take it easy.

Nanase Riku: I know, I know. I’ll be fine!

Nikaido Yamato: You just got over your cold, Riku. No wonder Kujo and Ichi are worried about you.

Nanase Riku: Yamato-san? I didn’t have a cold or anyth- … achoo!

Izumi Iori: Sure you didn’t.

Izumi Iori: Nanase-san needs to take it easy, so I’m expecting you to step up, Nikaido-san.

Nikaido Yamato: Me?

Izumi Iori: You’re not losing to anyone when it comes to stamina and endurance.

Nikaido Yamato: You think so? I’m probably gonna lose, you know.

Izumi Iori: Someone without endurance and stamina wouldn’t be plotting reve- mmmmph!

Nikaido Yamato: Good boys should always stay quiet. Well then…

Nikaido Yamato: Guess I gotta get a little serious.

Nanase Riku: Yamato-san, you’re so cool!

Tenn Kujo: Our Gaku won’t lose.

Yuki: Neither will my Momo.

Reporter: Alright, everyone! Get ready!

Momo: Huff… Huff…!

Momo: …I give up…!

Reporter: And we’re done!

Reporter: The shuttle run winner is the person who ran the most, so let’s announce the first place first!

Reporter: Momo-san is our longest runner! 128 rounds!

Yuki: That’s so impressive! Well done! I only managed 30.

Mido Torao: Didn’t you quit way too early…

Izumi Mitsuki: Haa… That was exhausting…! How many did you get, Mido?

Mido Torao: 93. You?

Izumi Mitsuki: 97.

Mido Torao: Wow, nice! You’ve got guts.

Izumi Mitsuki: You could’ve gone further, Mido!

Reporter: Second place! Yaotome Gaku-san! 118 rounds!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You did it! Congrats, Gaku!

Yaotome Gaku: Haa… Thanks! I started off a bit too fast, but I managed to push through till the end.

Tenn Kujo: Gaku’s always been surprisingly determined for a rich kid.

Nikaido Yamato: Ugh, shit! I thought I could beat Yaotome…

Reporter: Third place! Nikaido Yamato-san! 112 rounds!

Nanase Riku: Yamato-san, you got third place!

Rokuya Nagi: Wow! That’s a great achievement! Good job, Yamato!

Nanase Riku: You promised you’d step up!

Rokuya Nagi: OH… Fufufu. You look like a hero.

Nikaido Yamato: Stop jesting. I didn’t even do that great.

Nanase Riku: You did amazing, you looked so cool!

Nikaido Yamato: Haha… Well, as long as you’re happy, Riku.

Tenn Kujo: I thank you for your efforts as well. For no reason, of course.

Nikaido Yamato: Yeah, I know.

Reporter: Momo-san, what’s the secret to winning the shuttle run?

Momo: My partner dropped out early, so I had to make sure Re:vale left a mark, I gave it my all!

Yuki: Get a rooooom!

Momo: Kyaaaa~! Re:vale are soooo in love! (1)

Osaka Sougo: …They’re fangirling over themselves…

Yotsuba Tamaki: We should learn to hype ourselves up too.

Osaka Sougo: You mean yelling “kyaaa” over ourselves? I wonder if we can manage it without it being awkward…

Yotsuba Tamaki: Give it a shot.

Osaka Sougo: Hello, I’m Osaka Sougo.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Sou-chan, you’re so cool!

Osaka Sougo: Woohoo!

Osaka Sougo: How was that?

Yotsuba Tamaki: You bombed it.

Osaka Sougo: I told you…We’re amateurs..

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah.

Osaka Sougo: That was embarrassing…

Yotsuba Tamaki: Don’t sweat it. Congrats, Momorin!

Momo: Thanks!

Reporter: Now, let’s move on to the 50-meter dash.

Reporter: The 50-meter dash serves to test your speed.

Reporter: You will run in a straight lane for 50 meters, starting in a crouched position.

Reporter: After the cues of “on your mark” and “get set”, the whistle will blow, and you’ll run straight to the finish line. Your time will be recorded the moment your torso crosses the finish line.

Nikaido Yamato: This one’s just about raw speed. I have a feeling I know who’s gonna be the fastest.

Inumaru Touma: This one’s gotta go to Tsunashi-san. He’s tall, has long legs, and just looks fast in general.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: If you say that, then Torao-kun must be fast too.

Mido Torao: I wonder… I might do okay in a 25-meter dash, but I’m not sure about 50.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I get that. You have to pace yourself, right?

Mido Torao: Exactly. There’s gotta be a strategy. Maybe instead of going all out from the start, you gradually increase your speed?

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: That actually makes sense! I’ll try that.

Mido Torao: Uh… I was just rambling. I’d hate to be wrong.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Don’t worry about it!

Natsume Minami: Inumaru-san, you’re quite the runner aren’t you? You must be confident.

Inumaru Touma: I’m not sure?! I’m on the faster side, but everyone here seems pretty fast too.

Isumi Haruka: Touma’s fast! Ah… but Izumi’s really fast too.

Izumi Iori: Well… I’m decent.

Rokuya Nagi: Mitsuki too. The Izumi brothers are quite the fleet-footed runners.

Izumi Mitsuki: I’m gonna go all out!

Yotsuba Tamaki: I won’t lose!

Momo: Same here! Running is a straightforward, simple competition!

Yuki: Is it though?

Nikaido Yamato: If you say so.

Yaotome Gaku: I’m in. I’m finally beating you today, Ryuu.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I won’t lose!

Reporter: Alright, let’s begin! On your marks!

Izumi Iori: …

Izumi Mitsuki: …

Reporter: Get set… Start!

(Flashback)

Young Izumi Iori: …Huff… huff…the goal…!

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: Ohhh… Iori, you’re really fast.

Young Izumi Iori: I wore the sneakers you gave me, grandpa, so I feel faster than usual.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: I see, I see. That’s good to hear.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: Oh my. Isn’t that Mitsuki over there with his friends?

Mitsuki’s Friend: Mitsuki, you’re pretty fast! I heard your little brother is fast too.

Young Izumi Mitsuki: Yeah.

Mitsuki’s Friend: Who’s faster?

Young Izumi Mitsuki: That would be me. I’m the big brother after all.

Mitsuki’s Friend: But I heard your little brother managed to do backflips before you, right?

Young Izumi Mitsuki: That is true…

Young Izumi Iori: …

Young Izumi Mitsuki: Though I have won against Iori in the past.

Mitsuki’s Friend: Yeah, in the past. What about now?

Young Izumi Mitsuki: Not sure… but I think I can still win. I’m his big brother, after all.

Mitsuki’s Friend: Really? What if you lose?

Young Izumi Mitsuki: I won’t.

Young Izumi Iori: …

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: What’s wrong, Iori?

Young Izumi Iori: Um… I wanna go home now.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: I see. Let’s head back home then.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: I wonder what Mitsuki and his friends are talking about? My hearing isn’t as sharp these days… Maybe I shouldn’t interrupt them.

Young Izumi Iori: Yes…

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: Alright.

Young Izumi Iori: …I know you bought them for me, but I think I’ll store these shoes in their box for a while.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: Why? I thought you liked them?

Young Izumi Iori: I do, it’s just… I don’t want them to get dirty. I’ll keep them safe.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: Ahaha, you don’t have to worry about that. Look at Mitsuki.

Izumi Brothers’ Grandfather: He’s playing with his friends until the shoes I got for you two are covered in mud. That’s how it should be.

Young Izumi Iori: …

Young Izumi Iori: (No, it’s not okay… Nii-san has lots of friends, but…)

Young Izumi Iori: (Nii-san is the only friend I have.)

Reporter: We’ve reached the end…!

Izumi Iori: Huff… haa…!

Reporter: 3rd place! Izumi Iori-san! 6.51 seconds!

Izumi Iori: …Hah…

Reporter: 2nd place! Yotsuba Tamaki-san! 6.41 seconds!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ughhh…! Damn…!

Reporter: 1st place! Izumi Mitsuki! 6.39 seconds!

Izumi Mitsuki: Hah… hah…! Hell yeah!!

Momo: Ahhh! I’m so frustrated…! I messed up my start!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Hah… hah…! Ahh! That was close…!

Mido Torao: …Damn! I’m sorry! I’m serious! All because I was rambling…

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: No, no! Mitsuki and the others were just really fast! You too, Touma-kun!

Inumaru Touma: …No way! That's not my limit! I wanna run again!

Rokuya Nagi: Mitsuki, congratulations!

Izumi Mitsuki: Thanks! But hey, did you really go all out? Aren’t you actually faster?

Rokuya Nagi: No, no, no. I’ve only mastered self-defense.

Rokuya Nagi: However, I am not good at sports.

Nikaido Yamato: Is that so? Nagi, if you don’t work out properly you’ll get mounted by some thugs again.

Rokuya Nagi: OH… I certainly don’t want to be mounted, I am a very proud person.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Self-defense… If you’re good at that, maybe you’ll be good at the next event?

Rokuya Nagi: WHAT…? OH! The vaulting box!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Have you done it before?

Rokuya Nagi: Yes. I am good at it.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Me too!

Mido Torao: I think I can do that one too…

Isumi Haruka: You got this, Torao!

Reporter: Now, before we move on to the next test, what was your secret, Mitsuki-san?

Izumi Mitsuki: I’ve had a great rival close to me since childhood! Right, Iori?

Izumi Iori: Yes, that’s right.

Izumi Mitsuki: …

Izumi Iori: Congratulations, Nii-san.

Izumi Mitsuki: Thanks, Iori.

To be continued…

The joke here is that Re:vale are reacting to their own selves as if they’re their fangirls.

[mueritos]

a big brain dump about autism, life, being indigenous, and whatever else is going on

so the past few months I made it a personal journey to understand my autism more (and maybe a possible ptsd diagnosis but whatever whatever whatever). and that's what i'm calling it--the autism--because no other thing makes sense for me, and while i'm parsing through childhood memories and experiences, it's definitely...a bittersweet conclusion? bitter because in a lot of ways, i dont relate to the stereotypical autistic experience because every autistic person who has clocked me was usually a White Queer. It's probably why it's taken so long to get to this point of concluding Autism is what it is. I grew up in an immigrant family as a girl, and for that reason I was expected to not be disabled and to be a completely normal and high achieving Mexican catholic girl who went to college and became a doctor or whatever. Now i'm a fag of a man doing none of those things haha.

My older brother was supposed to be assessed for ASD in his youth, and like most immigrant dads, mine decided that nothing was wrong with him and the rest is history. Except my older brother is a man riddled with childhood trauma, shame, and so much autism. Absolutely uncharted rates of autism, and while he gets some sort of pity from my parents for him ("it's all out fault" "he never got the help he needed" "cut him some slack he doesnt understand"), I can never let my own parents know about how much I struggle. Hell, I can barely show it to my own friends because even they don't understand the extent of my autistic struggles. it's actually caused continuous miscommunications, people mad at me, me mad at myself, meltdowns, shutdowns, and a lot of crying. And shame. (a peer recently even demeaned my habit of keeping to myself, despite the fact that I had actually been trying to put myself out there more)

so i'm at a point in my life where I've accepted that I can only take responsibility over how I communicate, and I take ownership over that. Accepting this responsibility allows me to keep myself safe, as I've essentially lived over 2 decades of my life feeling like I was responsible for not just my communication, but everyone else's, including all of the judgements, missed cues, failures, miscommunications, and whatever else came from it. It's definitely double empathy. Last time I truly took on everyone's communication, it nearly killed me (cue over a year of suicidality). But, in a lot of ways it's very freeing. I'm sort of detaching myself from this neurotypical/White need to socially interact with others on their terms. In other ways, it's restricting. I uh. Don't really talk to a lot of people nowadays, and there used to be days where I wouldn't say a single word out loud. But because I don't talk to as many people, I'm able to put energy into the quality of my connections and not just the quantity. Which unfortunately a lot of people take personally. They dont like you admitting that you only see them as an acquittance, or as a classmate, or something like a friend but not quite there. I find comfort knowing how people feel about me, even if its that they actually dont feel close to me. Great! Now I know! Knowing makes me feel safe! But I'm finding that people actually really fucking hate when you admit that to them, the how you actually slot them in ur brain in terms of social levels. I can understand why, but I also don't get it.

Another thing that's helped is I've changed how I do eye contact. I used to make eye contact with professors or classmates while I spoke up in class because I thought that was important. Now I've found I can actually focus more on what I'm trying to say when I don't make eye contact. My god how freeing that has been. I don't have the same anxiety as I used to before, nor do I experience all of the involuntary blushing as I did for many years of my life. It didn't matter how confident or how prepared I felt, I would just blush furiously and I fucking hate it. Now my blushing is almost nonexistent, and I say what I mean with the flat ass tone that I love speaking in because it makes me feel safe. Sure, I miss the real-time non-verbal reactions to my words in class, but it's an okay trade-off for feeling more safe in myself and more confident in the classroom.

another thing is my internship. I work with majority neurodivergent students, and many of my clients have autism, adhd, or both, and are sometimes BIPOC, trans, or children of immigrants. Man, I've been having a blast. Sure, I'm learning how to be a therapist and best practices, but screw everyone in my life who has called me "cold" "emotionless" or "heartless". I have connected with so many people on such a human level, and I have sat there and helped them hold their pain in that tiny gay office for 45 minutes every week, and even though it's only 45 minutes, i'm showing them that they're allowed to ask for help holding that pain. I have had challenging sessions, difficult conversations, and times where I wasn't sure I would know what to say. But at it's core, I know that I'm capable of connecting with the person in front of me because my autism brain is automatically in tune with the person in front of me. It is so wonderful, and overwhelming, and so confusing all at once. When people start crying in front of me, I feel tears well up in my eyes, even if I'm not actually sad with them. It shows me that I'm capable of this empathy that so many people over my life have questioned, which they questioned all because I processed things slowly, or made quick decisions, or because I was honest about how I felt.

on to being mixed indigenous. Phew. I've been trying to build more connections with other Native folk, and I have a couple who I can thankfully call friends and who have never disrespected my detribalized experience. but recently I was interviewed a few times for a fellow indigenous researcher's dissertation, and I did not expect to be chosen on account that I am detribalized. But it had been a lovely experience and I finished my final interview today. It really left me with a lot of emotions that are hard to put into words. Mourning would be one of them, as I likely won't ever know what my tribal affiliation is. Never knowing who my people were, what language they spoke, the land they lived on...I can't describe just how much it destroys me. It feels like literal death, because that's what it is. A disgusting colonial death. And it's why I abhor that of all my identities, being autistic and being mixed indigenous has been met with the most vitriol online. like i guess people can only handle the trans fag mexican dude when hes not autistic and mixed indigenous, because now I am far too ambigious for anyone else's good. though i do know better than to listen to what random people online have to say about me and my path toward reconnection/neurodivergency.

beside's that, i'm trying to find neurodivergent spaces that feel safe, and I'm trying to find ways to keep myself safe. stimming, carrying stuffed animals around, using fidget toys, engaging in my interests, listening to the same songs, eating the same foods. I've had coffee with bagel and chive+onion cream cheese for over a year now. I've listening to almost only Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains for nearly a year now. I rewatch the same youtube videos over and over again. I wear the same few outfits. I wear the same shoes everyday. I walk the same way to and from campus everyday. I try to be in nature as much as I can, and really see it. I imagine nature where it isn't, and I get emotional thinking about the life that used to be on it. I wish so badly that I was a cat, a horse, a bunny, a deer, all so I could experience life through their eyes. i'm putting trust into people, into the universe, and into myself. safety is hard to come by, but im doing my best to accept the risks of life, trying to be flexible, and learn how to sustain myself for the good of the world. I deserve to be here too.

that's about it. besides that, i'm moving to philly once i'm done with grad school ^-^

[girlivealwaysbean]

so sad for absolutely no reason

[genderfluid-druid]

.

[tender-rosiey]

Hey I want to request a husband!gojo getting his wisdom teeth pulled out and he is high af from the anesthesia. I just imagine him forgetting everything and starts acting dumb. This would be huge blackmail material for nobara and megumi lol

peacock — gojo satoru x f!reader

as soon as you step into the recovery room, the sight of him almost makes you burst out laughing. satoru is slouched in the chair, limbs draped over the sides, his usual composed demeanor replaced with utter disarray.

his eyes, free of his blindfold, are dazed and unfocused, those brilliant blue irises practically swimming in confusion.

his cheeks are puffed out comically with gauze, and he’s staring up at the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

when his eyes eventually find you, they widen dramatically, his entire face lighting up like he’s just seen a miracle.

"oh. my. god," he gasps, his voice muffled by the cotton stuffed in his mouth, but his tone is thick with awe and disbelief. “you’re... you're an angel. a real one.”

you bite your lip, barely managing to stifle the laughter bubbling up. “satoru, it’s me,” you say, moving closer to him.

he squints at you, leaning forward so far that he nearly tips over, his eyes narrowing as he’s trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. “wait... we know each other?”

you fight back a smile. “I’m your wife.”

there’s a beat of silence before his eyes widen again, and he jerks back so dramatically that the chair creaks beneath him.

“wife? no way!” he grips the armrests with exaggerated strength, staring at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. “are you serious? we’re married? to each other?”

you giggle as you nod, “for a while now.”

he slumps back, his head rolling to the side with a long, exaggerated groan. his entire body sinks into the chair.

“wow. I did it. I really did it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling again, his eyes unfocused and dazed. “I married the hottest person in the universe. I win at life.”

your lips twitch into a grin, watching him bask in his drugged-out epiphany. “you sure did,” you say, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly.

you move to help him up, sliding your arm around his waist as he wobbles to his feet, legs unsteady like a baby giraffe taking its first steps.

but as you start guiding him toward the door, he plants his feet firmly on the ground, stopping you with a wild-eyed, serious expression. “wait, wait, wait,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab yours with surprising urgency.

his fingers are warm, clumsy in their grip, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that, even through the haze of anesthesia, is so satoru.

his face is scrunched up in deep thought, brows furrowed as though he’s wrestling with the most critical question of his life. “I need to know something... something important.”

you raise an eyebrow, watching him try to focus, his blue eyes narrowing. “okay, what is it?”

“do we... do we kiss?”

you can’t help it—this time, you let out a snort of laughter. “yes, satoru, we kiss. all the time.”

he blinks slowly, his mouth hanging open in awe, eyes sparkling with newfound wonder.

“no way! I knew it. I’m so good at kissing, aren’t I?” he beams, his prideful grin exaggerated by the swollen cheeks, making him look utterly ridiculous. “I knew I was a natural.”

you chuckle, shaking your head as you tighten your hold on him, guiding him toward the exit. “you’re definitely something,” you mutter under your breath.

but, of course, satoru has no intention of walking in a straight line, let alone staying quiet. he stops again, turning his head to you with a deeply perplexed look, like he’s trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe.

“wait… wait… there’s these kids,” he says, gesturing wildly, nearly knocking the clipboard off the counter.

“they’re always hanging around. the loud pink-haired one, the grumpy one, and the one who keeps yelling. who are they? why are they always following me?”

you sigh through a laugh, shaking your head as you guide him forward. “those are your students, satoru. yuuji, megumi, and nobara.”

his face lights up with recognition—or something close to it. “yuuji! yeah, yeah, the kid who talks to everything. I like him. he’s my pokemon.”

you snicker, struggling to keep him upright as he sways like he’s on a boat in the middle of a storm. “he is your student, not a pokemon,” you remind him gently.

he waves his hand dismissively. “nah, nah, he’s my pokemon.”

you shake your head, unable to stop smiling. “sure, satoru. whatever you say.”

“and megumi!” satoru perks up again, his eyes sparkling. “my little emo sunshine. I keep trying to make him smile, but it’s, like, so hard. do you think he’s broken?”

his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer to you. “should we fix him?”

you let out a small laugh, trying to keep him from stumbling as you approach the door. “I think megumi’s just fine, satoru.”

satoru gasps, clutching at your arm. “don’t tell me... he’s also your best friend? is he my rival?”

before you can respond, the door to the recovery room swings open, and standing in the hallway are yuuji, nobara, and megumi.

nobara is the first to spot satoru, her eyes widening before she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubles over.

“oh my god, this is amazing!” nobara cackles, already pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at satoru. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life.”

yuuji grins widely, waving enthusiastically. “sensei! you okay?”

satoru beams at the sight of yuuji, grinning so wide that his swollen cheeks puff out even more.

“yuuji! my pokemon!” he tries to wave but nearly tips over, forcing you to steady him with both hands. “I missed you, man! when did you get here?”

yuuji looks bewildered for a moment. “pokemon?”

nobara is still laughing uncontrollably, already typing on her phone with one hand while recording with the other. “fushiguro, please tell me you’re getting this. this is gold!”

megumi, for his part, just stands there with his arms crossed, a sigh escaping his lips. but you can see the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, a rare sign of amusement.

meanwhile, satoru is now waving his arms around excitedly, turning back to yuuji. “we should totally start a band! you play drums, and I’ll sing. we’ll call it...gojo and the gojos!”

yuuji blinks in surprise, his jaw dropping slightly. “uh, what?”

nobara howls with laughter, her camera still rolling. “oh my god, this is going in the group chat. no, actually, this is going everywhere.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters.

you sigh, shaking your head fondly at the absolute circus unfolding around you. “alright, superstar,” you say, gently pulling satoru toward the exit, “let’s get you home before you say anything else you’ll regret.”

satoru grins, his eyes half-lidded but still full of wonder, like he’s just discovered something miraculous. “home? with my wife? yes, please. best. day. ever.”

as you manage to pull satoru a few steps closer to the door, his weight leaning heavily against you, he suddenly halts.

you glance at him, bracing yourself for another round of his ridiculous, anesthesia-fueled revelations, but nothing—nothing—could prepare you for what comes next.

“wait,” he says, his voice low and serious, as if he's about to share the most critical, world-altering secret.

his glassy eyes look at you intensely, filled with wild determination. “I need to do something important before we leave.”

you blink at him, confused. “satoru, what could you possibly—”

before you can finish your sentence, he dramatically pulls away from you, somehow managing to stand on his own. with the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, he wobbles toward the center of the room, ignoring your protests.

“satoru—”

he shushes you loudly, a single finger pressed to his lips as he glances over his shoulder, his expression way too serious for someone who can’t walk straight.

“shhh. this is between me and the universe.”

you exchange a bewildered look with yuuji, who’s still watching in awe, nobara recording every second, and megumi now sighing deeply, clearly bracing himself for whatever absurdity satoru is about to unleash.

then, with absolutely no warning, satoru starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you yelp, rushing forward to stop him, but you’re too late.

he rips his shirt open dramatically, buttons flying everywhere, revealing his bandaged, puffy cheeks, along with his very confused, bare chest.

“satoru—oh my god—”

but he’s not done. no, of course he’s not. he thrusts his arms out to the side, chest puffed out proudly, and yells at the top of his lungs:

“I AM A PEACOCK, WATCH ME SOAR!”

the room falls into stunned silence for a moment. nobara freezes mid-recording, mouth hanging open in disbelief, while yuuji’s jaw drops, eyes wide with sheer awe.

megumi, however, just buries his face in his hands.

“I cannot believe I know this man,” megumi mutters under his breath, his tone one of deep regret.

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[gallavichsreddie1128]

Y/N being obsessed with Wolverine

WARNING: SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE SAVE AND READ LATER ;)

Warning: Dirty flirting

Wade and Y/N go way back so when he’s captured by the TVA she ends up with him. 

OK so maybe she’s like his sidekick.

She has the same suit but sexier.

Through all the jumps to different Wolverines Y/N is thrilled by the handsome man. 

Wade has always known that she found him attractive. 

When they get to the “right” one she immediately flirts with him.

“Wow, aren't you like the sexiest man alive?” She flirts.

Deadpool looks at her through his mask like “bitch,really?” 

Logan snorts at her and finishes his drink.

Seeing him in his suit? Oh she’s in love. 

She runs his fingers up his muscles and sighs, “Made in heaven.” 

Logan raises his eyebrow at her and turns to Deadpool, “She’s like you but hotter.” 

He called her hot? Oh she gets more handsy. 

Even though she’s Deadpool's sidekick she stays out of the fights between them and is the one that breaks them up.

“You’re supposed to be my sidekick! Just because you want to fuck him doesn’t mean that title goes away.” Wade tells her.

“If he wasn’t here right now I would do the nastiest things to you.” She purrs. 

He looks at her up and down and considers it. 

“I heard that!”

When Deadpool wraps his arms around Johnny, Y/N does the same with Wolverine.

“You’re so buff and muscular. It’s hard to keep my hands off ya.” 

Cassandra gets inside Y/N’s mind and calls her a whore. 

Y/N smirks at Wolverine, “Only for you big boy.”

“Well since you don’t wanna join them in taking her down, Can I suck your dick?” 

Her suit gets nearly shredded and both Deadpool and Wolverine stare at her body, “If you don’t fuck her, I will.” Wade says. 

Wolverine snorts at that.

Seeing Wolverine with his mask nearly made her cum, “And here I was thinking that you couldn’t get hotter. I was wrong.” She sighs, dreamily.  

She cried when she thought she lost both her bestie and her dream man. 

But when he came out shirtless that thought went away. 

“Oh baby you’re gonna have to fuck me soon. I don’t know how long I can take it.” She says.

He chuckles and takes off his mask.

He pulls her into a kiss and she happily accepts.

Deadpool rolls his eyes as the kiss gets deeper, “Okay we get it! You guys wanna fuck. Disney won’t allow that.” 

Y/N breaks the kiss with a love sickening smile.

Wolverine looks down at her with the same look. 

“Ok fuckheads. Let’s get going!” Deadpool says.

Both of them sigh but walk hand in hand.

“You take good care of her and no babies until after marriage.” Logan rolls his eyes. 

“No promises friendo. We are fucking like rabbits tonight.” She smirks at him.

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[radiance1]

By all accounts, it shouldn't have worked.

By all bloody accounts, that should not have worked.

Constantine will repeat.

That, by all accounts, should not have worked.

The warehouse was shitty. The materials were shitty. The summoning circle was shitty. The chanting was shitty. The magic was shitty.

By all accounts, the summoning should not have worked.

So Constantine couldn't give much of a shit about really stopping it because the summoning was so shitty it shouldn't have worked by an means possible.

So what. In the ever-loving fuck. Was the Ghost King, known tyrant of the Infinite Realms. Standing in the middle of the circle and not, last he checked, imprisoned?

That was another thing that he thought would have made it fail, actually. Because the Ghost King was incapacitated, asleep, gone, unavailable, nada.

So what. The fuck. Was he doing. Here?

Constantine knew the day was going to well to stay that way but wow. The universe loves to fuck him over, apparently.

Or the Justice League in specific.

Or both.

Doesn't matter, because now he has to bullshit his way out of this or get ready to brawl for his life.

Good thing he's good at both of those things, then.

Mostly the bullshit-

"Phantom what the fuck are you doing-" Constantine wheezed out, watching one of their newest members-a ghost going by the name Phantom-fly over in front of the known tyrant and-

Oh.

Oh, holy shit this won't end well.

Ghost King.

Phantom. A ghost.

Well, shit.

This is fine. This is totally fine. He just needs to bullshit his way out of this or face two powerhouses.

This is fine.

He's done worse.

"Sup War" Phantom said, floating around the summoning circle that contained the king of all ghosts like it wasn't a problem. "Didn't expect to be seeing you here."

"Ward." The Ghost King inclined his head slightly, eyes trained on Phantom. "I would not have come here if not for Time's insistence and I have been meaning to..." The King paused, hands gripping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword. "...Check in... on you."

"Aww, were you worried about lil old meeeee?" Phantom, ever the little shit and holy shit did Constantine want to go over there and shut him up, said. Floating around until he was staring upside down in the Ghost King's face. "Didn't know you were so soft, pa."

"I am not soft." The King huffed, flame dancing at the edges of his hair. "I was merely... concerned. Over how you would be acclimating to your circumstances. This world's League of Justice covers far more than your small haunt."

"Weeeell, it's not that bad honestly." Phantom admitted. "Haven't really done anything too big yet just some smallish things here and there. So, you know." The ghost boy shrugged, swinging back in the air to turn upright and crossing his legs. "Nothing too bad."

"Good." The Ghost King nodded, shoulders slumping so slightly that if Constantine wasn't looking, he wouldn't have seen it. "That is good. Yes. Good." The King slightly cleared his throat, grasping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword.

Silence echoed in the warehouse as the King seemingly looked for words to say.

"Would you..." He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter. "Would you like to join me and Time for a meeting? It has been some time since you had last joined us." The King shifted slightly before adding. "Of course, if you're busy you do not have too."

"Sure." Phantom said, rolling back and forth in the air as he hummed. "Been a while since we've had some family time-"

"Family time?" Constantine caught someone-who he thinks was Green Lantern-say. He was just as bewildered.

"And if Time sent you here then it must be important." Danny paused before shrugging. "Or maybe not, can never know with him. But yea, sure. I'll come."

"Wonderful." The Ghost King smiled. Smiled. At Phantom. "Then I shall. Leave. Now. To do. Things. Yes. Things." The summoning circle flashed a familiar green, the same green when the King was first being summoned. "Goodbye, ward."

"You can call me son, you know."

The King paused for a moment, blinking slowly before hesitantly nodding.

"Then goodbye. Son."

The circle flashed and just like that. The king was gone.

"Kid. What the fuck." Whoever said- okay wait no that was Constantine, him. But yea fuck it he agrees with himself. "What the fuck." He repeated.

Phantom, the brat, only gave him a shit eating grin and a peace sign before disappearing on the spot.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 

“Do you?”  

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic: Shift

Danny wanders down the street, confused.

A few minutes ago, he had been sure that the tour guide and his school group were only a few feet away. They were on the last day of their three-day field trip, covering the history of one of the oldest cities in the USA.

It's not the oldest, but the closest Casper High could offer. Gotham City is much bigger than Amity, but it didn't have anything really interesting about it besides having more things to do. Its only claim of fame was how old some significant buildings were in Old Gotham.

Still, for some students who have yet to leave the small town of Amity Park, Gotham was a thing of wonder. Danny couldn't wait to explore with Sam and Tucker tomorrow on their free day. They were going to walk around the plaza market and the mall.

Gotham's mall had five floors. Five.

Then Danny noticed the hotdog cart just a few feet away from the guide informing the group about the large theater, the first public building in Gotham. He hadn't cared for how many balls were held there or how, a few hundred years later, the building gained a stage and seats.

He gestured to the cart to tell Sam he wanted to buy one. He turned to Tucker, but his friend was genuinely interested in the history lesson and shook his head. Danny figured they would cover for him, so he stepped to the side to buy a hotdog, keeping Tucker and Sam in his provisional vision.

He had just finished putting the ketchup on his food when he realized the sounds of the busy city had shifted. It wasn't that it went silent or anything. It was more like sound traveling from one headphone to another.

But he wasn't wearing earbuds, which made the shifting noise extremely alarming. He looked up and around, but everything seemed to stay the same, except there was less traffic, and the sidewalk wasn't as clean as he initially thought. Also, what happened to the sun? Where did all these clouds come from?

Danny turned to ask Tucker and Sam if a freak storm was supposed to happen, but they were gone. So was the Amity Park group. Swinging his head back and forth, he attempts to spot them in the moving crowd, but he can't spot a familiar face.

How did twenty-seven people move that quickly and silently?

"Hey! You need to pay for that!" The hotdog vendor on the other side of the cart shouts. "The ketchup isn't free!"

"But I just bought these two from you." Danny raises his food so that the man can see the logo of his own cart. The man's eyes widen when he sees it. "I just paid-"

"You little thief! You stole from my cart!" The man sneers. Danny reels back, surprised by the accusation as much as the rage in which the man yells. It seems like an overreaction to the student.

"No, I literally just handed you seven dollars for-" Whatever Danny is going to say is cut off by the man cocking a gun, now aimed at his face. Nearby, a woman screams, and the walking crowd breaks into a run, almost as if it's practice clearing the street in seconds.

Wow, it's a much better reaction time than the people of Amity Park. He would have been impressed if he hadn't had a gun aimed at his face.

"What are you doing?"

"You damn street rats are the reason good upstanding citizens like me are struggling! Go back to your county!" The man hisses, and Danny is confused by the sudden attitude shift of what he previously thought was a friendly vendor to take the gun in his face seriously.

The guy wasn't even that scary, not with that pathetic stance. Danny had learned a better stance by the time he was five, and his father had pointed a gun at him in a more threatening way that one time he was dressed as a rubber duck than this.

Scowling, Danny pushes the gun away with the tips of his fingers. "Rude. See if I give your food any stars."

The man makes the motion to pull the trigger, so Danny moves his hand into a strike, knocking the gun from his grip. In one quick turn, he turns it around and points it at the gawking man with a bored expression.

"I'm going to walk away with my meal now," He tells him, watching sweat gathering on the vendor's forehead. The pulse in the older man is rapidly bouncing around his neck, making Danny smirk.

Hotdog man goes sheet white but shutters out, "Alright."

Danny keeps the gun aimed at him even as he gathers his two dogs in one hand and backs away into the street. It's only when he turns a corner, out of sight, that Danny lowers his weapon.

He texts his friends in the three-way chat they have, asking where they went. When a few minutes goes by without the little read sign next to his words goes by, Danny tries calling them. His phone, however, claims his services are out, making him wonder if his Dad forgot to pay the bill again.

Jack could afford it, but the bill deadline always slipped his mind, and he would like to have to wait till Monday to turn it back on. Sighing, Danny decides to head back to the hotel where the school is staying, thinking it would be better to wait out for Mr.Lancer than get lost in the big city.

He strides down the street, following the same path the group took from the Hotel. As he does so, he notices something odd.

Gotham seems wrong. Darker somehow, and the previously friendly people had all vanished as everyone around him gave him dark, mistrustful glances. Not everyone smiles back when Danny says, "We're strangers, but this is a quick, friendly acknowledgment" smile.

It couldn't be the gun. Danny hides it in his pants, the same way he hides his thermos. No one should be able to tell what he's carrying.

It is strange. He's so busy trying to figure out what happened that he nearly misses the fact that the previously well-kept streets have been replaced with closed-down, decrypted buildings. He does notice that the hotel he was staying at for the past two days was boarded up, looking like it's been years since someone last used it.

"What?" He whispers, checking the large sign twice. It's the same name, but three letters are missing.

"That's what I want to know." A man grunts behind him, causing Danny to wirl around and stare in horror at the approaching police officer. "What are you doing with here?"

"I was staying at this hotel." He tells the other man, too disorientated to notice how silent the street had become. He can spot some people watching from the alleyway despite broad daylight. They were hiding. From what?

"Were you? And how much do you have on you?" The cop asks casually.

"Of what?"

The man rolls his eyes before he suddenly kicks Danny in the stomach. The boy is knocked to the floor with a soft grunt of pain. A stomp on his hand has him screaming in pain, but what really makes him angry is the fingers moving around the back of his hands until they close around his wallet.

Nah, was this cop trying to mug him?

Danny throws up a hand, using the palm of his hand to slam it against the chin of the mugger. The man's head is knocked back, and he tilts over, falling into a dead heap. Danny stands, dusts his clothes, and kicks the cop once.

He looks back to the hotel.

Where should he go now? A few seconds go by, and he can see the people in the alley cautiously start to climb out of their hiding, and he thinks it's better to try to find a phone to call home.

He twists on his heels and marches down the street, unaware of the man in yellow watching from a nearby roof.

The man reaches up to his ear, clicking on his communicator as the stranger looks confused despite knowing where he is going. "This is Signal. I found the guy that triggers the Nest's alarms. He seems trained but can't be, at most, sixteen. He also just took down Jeff, the one Gordon was talking about. Let's keep an eye on him. He looks like radiation grew legs and took the shape of a human. "