Bingle's Writing

Waterboy scanned the people scattered around the store as he panted, his hands still shaking with nerves. It was good to finally be a hero, but every mission so far still felt terrifying. But, he did it! With Malevola’s help. Really, he knew she did most of the work, but, he helped, too! Teamwork. Makes the dream work, as they say. Now the gun-wielding duo that had attempted to rob the store was disarmed and safely apprehended. The heroes’ next task was to make sure no one got shot, then the police would whisk away the criminals, and it would be onto the next mission.

Malevola eyed the man and woman tied up, leaning against a wall. Those were the two idiots responsible for causing the public panic. Yes, attempting to rob a store was bad, but their absolute lack of skill made her snicker. Waterboy pulled his soaked goggles off his face and let them hang around his neck, eyes peeled for any injured civilians.

“Uh- is- is everyone, okay? Um, not injured?” He asked, his eyes pausing on two teenage boys.

The boys looked shaken, but wore wobbly smiles at seeing the culprits tied up. They nodded. Waterboy turned in a circle, hoping he wouldn’t miss anyone. Some citizens were shakily getting up from their hiding spots and heading for the exit, and others stood still, their minds not yet absorbing the fact they were safe now. A man carried out his crying daughter, a hand soothing her head. No one was feeling great, but Waterboy didn’t see any blood.

“Yes? Everyone is- is safe? No one got hit- shot? That’s… that’s good,” he muttered, his tense shoulders relaxing a hair. He turned around when Malevola spoke.

“Hell yeah. We fuckin’ nailed it. Not bad, wetguy,” Malevola said with a proud smile. She raised her hand high in the air. Waterboy smiled in return, eyes flickering from her face to her hand. He high-fived her, water droplets flying from the slap.

“Yeah..! Yeah, we- yes, we did. Nail it. Good- good job, t-teammate,” he said.

“Thanks,” Malevola replied with a nod. She pressed a finger to her earpiece, folding her other arm over her chest. Her pointed tail swayed behind her as she turned around.

“Okay, Robert. We’re done here. And we smashed it, as expected.”

Waterboy blinked and touched his own earpiece as well. He wasn’t really sure if he should say something or not but, he was already doing it.

“Uh, correct. We- uh, no- no one was hurt! Go, go team,” he added, immediately cringing after he spoke.

Mal sighed, stretching her arms above her head. “Welp, guess it’s time to head back to base. Let’s go,” she said, readying to create a portal. Before she did, she caught a glimpse of the crowd of people outside. They peered in the store’s window, adoring eyes glued to her. She grinned at them.

“Hey, looks like we have an audience! I’m gonna go say hi real quick,” she said. The store’s bell chimed as she walked out the door.

Waterboy watched her, a little surprised. He didn’t really love the idea of staying to talk to people, but he also didn’t have the ability to portal himself back to SDN. In theory, he could walk back, but… that would be a long walk. And a lot of puddles on the way. He licked his lips and followed her outside, ducking his head down instinctively as he pushed the door open.

Malevola was talking to the small crowd with a big, fanged smile, hands on her hips as she answered questions from them. Positive attention was one of the things she actually appreciated about hero work. Waterboy smiled too as he saw the scene, happy for his friend. A few people glanced to him and thanked him as well, and he offered a polite nod and wave.

You had been in the group outside, and you looked to the door as its bell chimed again. There stood Waterboy, looking out of place. You gasped and broke apart from the group to talk to him.

“Oh my god! Waterboy! It’s really you!” you exclaimed. He was taken aback by your excitement, holding his hands close to his chest.

“Uh, yep! It’s- that’s me! ...Hi.”

“Sorry, you must get this all the time, I’m such a big fan,” you continued, “What you do is just amazing. You’re like… literally my inspiration.”

He froze, staring at you with his lips barely parted, hands mid-wring. He felt a drop of water slide off the tip of his nose. Inside, his heart felt like it had ballooned to fill up his whole chest. Someone was inspired by him? A big fan of him? And it was someone so beautiful- just the cherry on top of the cake. Or ice cream. Or milkshake. This must be what real heroes get to feel all the time. It felt so strange to be on the receiving end of someone’s admiration. Not snark, or pity, or only seeing potential in the mess that the was, but real admiration. For him.

“Uh… Waterboy?” you said, tilting your head at him.

Shoot, he had been silent for too long.

“Ah! Uh, s-s-sorry, I gah- got lost in thought, for, for a s-second there,” he struggled to get the words out. “Uh, I- actually d-don’t get that, that a lot! So, uh, I was surpri- uh, not expecting that! Thank- thank you! What a nice- nice thing to say.”

You leaned in as he spoke, listening intently. You didn’t expect the hero to have a stutter, but you loved the sound of his voice. He was so sweet!

“Of course,” you replied to him. “You’re a hero! I know you must be busy, but, could I ask for an autograph from you?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck shyly.

Waterboy beamed and nodded immediately. “Uh, sure! Of c-course! Do you, uh, have a pen? That I could use?”

“Shoot, I hope so,” you muttered, digging through your purse. “Aha! Got it.” You pulled out a black marker. You held it out to him, readjusting your purse-straps over your shoulder.

“Th- thank you. Do you, have uh.. a paper?”

“I don’t, but, I was thinking you could sign right here,” you said with a playful grin. You pulled down the collar of your shirt dangerously low, pointing to the soft skin of your chest. You were an inch away from flashing the poor man.

His eyes went so wide you could see the white all the way around them- glued to your exposed cleavage. Fresh water droplets trickled from his hair, down his face, and dripped off his chin. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He jerked his head up to meet your eyes, looking embarrassed.

“Ah… I… Are- are you sure?? I don’t… are you- comt- com- comf-ter-ble? With- with touching? That? You? I- I c-could sign your arm, or- or… anywhere else, if- I just…”

“I’m sure I want it here,” you interrupted his train of thought. “You know, to be close to my heart?”

That part was bullshit and you knew it. You wanted him to sign your boob. But, you hoped it might convince him you weren’t a horrible pervert.

His posture relaxed a little at your reason, but his face still felt impossibly hot.

“Ahh…. Right, that’s… that’s…” He nodded slowly, looking at the space next to your face. His eyes flickered back to yours. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. I’ll just… s-sign… that… for you. If you really want me to.”

He inched forward, his left hand hovering over your shoulder hesitantly as he held the marker in his right.

“Uh. What do you want me to write?” He asked.

You had to stifle a giggle, eyes crinkling up with amusement. You could’ve teased him, but you had a feeling he might pop if you did.

“Waterboy,” you answered.

“Right, right. Duh,” he chuckled breathlessly, avoiding your eyes. He took a breath in and let it out shakily, staring at your hand pulling down your shirt.

“Okay. Easy. Nothing to it,” he whispered to himself, finally touching your shoulder. The cool touch of his glove dampened your sleeve, but you obviously didn’t mind.

He had to make this a good signature. He had to, it was going on your body! Over your heart! Because you admired him! He put the marker to your skin, careful not to let his hand rest on your chest- both to be respectful and to avoid smudging the marker. He moved it slowly, trying to will his hands to stop shaking. There. ‘W’ done. Now, the rest of it…

You watched his focused expression as he carefully wrote out his alias on your chest. He seemed so worried. It was sweet, but, you felt a little bad for the guy. You had asked for it, after all. You had thought any man would jump at the chance to sign a woman’s chest without thinking twice, but, Waterboy was evidently not that type. He was so concerned about being respectful he acted like it would burn to touch you. Hot. You wondered if he was always this nervous around women. Your mind drifted to a distracted place, imagining his wet hands running over the breasts he seemed intent on avoiding.

Waterboy leaned back a little, having written his name successfully. He finished it off with two dots, a curved line, and a circle around it.

He froze.

Shit.

He just drew a smiley face on you.

“Ah- oh sh- shoot! I’m so so-sorry! I- um,” he uttered, recoiling from you. You looked down and saw the smiley face for yourself. You giggled.

“I- it’s a habit, of, how I sign my- I usually- I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking!”

“Hey, it’s okay!” You assured him with a smile. “It’s cute!”

“...It is?” he asked, his brows creasing slightly. He thought it was pretty stupid, but, you weren’t mad at him.

“Yeah. It’s perfect. Thank you, Waterboy,” you said, eyeing him up and down.

Waterboy adorned a bright smile to match yours, letting out a sigh of relief. He looked down and capped the marker with a click. He was sort of glad he looked flushed all the time, hopefully it meant he didn’t look any different now. He held the marker out to you. You accepted it then dropped it back in your purse.

“Aha... that’s… you’re welcome! I’m... glad you like it.”

There was a few seconds of silence. The two of you looked at each other. Waterboy’s eyes flicked between yours- he couldn’t pick one.

“Oh, I just realized- I- I never asked for y-your name. What is your, uh, name?” he asked, returning to wringing his hands.

You told him, and he repeated it softly, letters catching between his teeth. His eyes traced over your face, committing it to memory.

“That’s, a- a very beau- pretty name,” he said, tucking his chin toward his chest. You giggled that adorable giggle again, and he felt unreasonably proud of himself for eliciting it from you.

“Thank you. I think ‘Waterboy’ is pretty cute, too,” you said, inching a little closer.

His heart leapt up into his throat. He swore he felt your warm breath on his face. He leaned back with a nervous laugh, his shoulders nearly touching his ears.

“Ahah! Th-th-thank- thank you! Uh, well- it was- was really, really great to meet you! I- haveta- to go do, other... hero stuff, so…” He said, pointing vaguely to the side to escape the conversation.

“Right, of course. It was really nice to meet you too. Have a good day,” you replied, waving sweetly before you walked down the sidewalk.

Oh, gosh, you were so cute.

“Y- Yeah! I- I will! Thank you! I mean, you too! Also!” He called after you. He bit his lip as he watched you leave, your words replaying in his mind. He shook his hands out, struggling to contain the burst of energy he had from talking to you. And looking at you. And touching you.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hard slap to his back that made him sputter.

“Duuuude!” Malevola cheered. “Nice!”

“Huh?” Waterboy whirled his head around to face her, folding his gangly arms up in an attempt to be smaller. “Wh- uh, what’s- what’s that for? What’s nice?”

“Are you kidding me? I saw everything, wetguy,” she laughed, patting his back a little less forcefully. “You got game! A weird, nervous, stuttering game, but… hey, it worked for her.”

Waterboy wanted to curl up and die. He recognized it was a compliment, backhanded as it was, but he cringed at the thought of her watching everything he just did.

“I, uh… don’t exactly f- u-understand. I… wasn’t trying to-to do anything,” he muttered, scratching his head.

Mal raised a brow, giving him a skeptical look.

“...Are you being intentionally dense right now? She was so into you.”

Waterboy’s brows furrowed. Of course he could see that. He just didn’t know what to do with it. “Well, yeah, I- I got that, she- she told me so, and- and the… signing… I figured…”

“You should go run after her and ask for her number,” Mal teased, shaking him by the shoulder.

“N-no! That’s- that’s super creepy,” Waterboy whisper-yelled. “No. No…”

“Relax, dude, I’m kidding. You look like you’re about to faint. God, Sonar would kill to sign someone’s tits,” she muttered, grinning as she thought of her friend. “Maybe literally.”

Mal released him from her grip and turned around, opening up a glowing red portal.

“Well, enough dicking around. Time to get back,” she said, nodding to the portal. She turned to step through it, but was stopped by a wet hand grabbing her wrist.

“W-wait!”

She turned around with a confused look, awaiting an explanation. Waterboy let go of her wrist, taking a breath as he studied the sidewalk.

“Look- I- I know that… teasing stuff, I guess, is- is kind of, what you do, and it’s like, friendly, but, um… could you, maybe, not tell the- our- our teammates about this? It’s- I feel… I would appreciate it. Please.”

Mal paused. Not tell anyone else about this? But this was the juiciest thing to happen all week! Waterboy literally signed a woman’s tits right in front of her!

But she looked at how pathetically he was standing there, looking back at her pleadingly. She told herself she was working on being a better teammate to him, to make up for the times she was a jerk on past missions.

But she really wanted to tell Prism. She would eat it up.

But his sad little face.

“...Not even Sonar?” Mal whined.

“Uh… no. Not-not him. He will… definitely tell everyone else,” Waterboy muttered, bringing his hand to his lips.

Mal groaned dramatically.

“...Fine. Fine, I won’t tell anyone. You owe me a beer,” she settled on, then stepped through the portal.

Waterboy grinned and followed after her. If a beer was all it took to save himself from humiliation, he would buy a hundred beers. Or just one, because… she only asked for one.

You’d invited your boyfriend over to your apartment tonight for dinner and a movie, as you usually did on Saturday night, but this time, you had a little surprise in store for him. Just two days ago, you’d gone to the hairdresser and made the big chop. The years spent growing those inches made you a little sentimental over the cut, but hopefully you wouldn’t regret it. You’d been itching for something different for quite a while. Now that you’d finally done it, you’d been running your hands over your hair over and over, still getting used to how light your head felt now.

You leaned toward the mirror in front of you, trying to cement the idea that this was your hair now. Did it look good? You were pretty sure it did. You turned your head this way and that, eyes glued to your reflection. Yeah. Probably fine.

You heard a knock at the door, and you pulled yourself away from the mirror to answer it. Your chest tightened with energy before you swung the door open, already beaming at Herman.

Herman looked down as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. He had come right from the office, still dressed in his yellow and blue wetsuit. Water droplets dripped onto your welcome mat. When he lifted his head again, his brows jumped up and his posture straightened like a puppet on a string.

“Hey, h- Oh! Wow! Your- short! Your hair is so short!” he said, a smile growing on his face.

“Indeed it is,” You chuckled, stepping aside so he could enter. He walked in and lowered his bag to the floor, keeping his eyes on you as you shut the front door. He leaned in close to you, holding your shoulders lightly as he inspected your new cut. He hummed thoughtfully, then lifted his hands before pausing, hovering over your hair.

“Uh.. can I- is it okay to…?”

You nodded.

He ran his hands over your hair- it was a bit too short now to really run them “through” it- and smiled.

“I’m guessing you like it…?” you asked, a hint of teasing in your tone.

He blinked and his eyes flicked to yours. His goggles tinted his grey eyes blue, and the light in his eyes shined like stars. He chuckled bashfully, his cheeks turning even rosier than usual.

“Uh, yes! S-sorry. I meant to say, it’s good! I like your- always like your hair. It’s so different…! It sort of… changes your face…” he said, hands sliding down to cup your cheeks. His wet gloves felt cool against your skin. “I mean, your face is, it’s the same, of course, and- and it’s a great face! I dunno, it’s hard to… explain…” he trailed off, voice quieting gently as he gazed at you.

“I get what you mean,” you assured him, leaning into his touch.

“Why did- um, what made you decide to- to cut it?” he asked.

“Oh, a few reasons, I guess. I wanted something easier to take care of, you know, less brushing and stuff. And, I thought it might look good on me. I felt bored of my long hair,” you answered, tilting your head down.

He noticed your look down and a small frown crossed his face. Were you not sure about it?

He gently lifted your head, your eyes meeting his again. “Yeah. yeah, those are- that-that makes sense. I think- imagine it will be easier to take care of, with… less hair, there, to… care for.”

You smiled, a hand coming up to hold his wrist.

“Do I still look cute?” you asked, voice a little softer.

He perked up. “Of course!” he answered. “You’re- uh, always, always cute. Yeah. Cute. Cute is the right word for you, aheh!”

You giggled, glowing from his praise.

“Awww, you’re so sweet, Hermie,” you cooed before leaning in and kissing his cheek. His shoulders lifted up instinctively like he was shy, but he adored your kisses more than anything.

“I- uh- it’s- I’m, just being honest! If- I definitely, uh, learned it from you! Being sweet, that is- from you. You’re sweet,” he said, wrapping you up in a (soggy, but loving) hug. He pressed a chaste kiss to your hair.