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#[ okay i changed my mind-- there's a robin tag. ]
iniziare · 2 days
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Tag drop: Aventurine.
#aventurine. [ mr. cavalier gambler: uptight. overcautious. inferiority complex. you've won so much but you're still so afraid of losing. ]#aventurine: ic. [ they see only the straight flush. they don't know the other hand below the table clutching your chips for dear life. ]#aventurine: inquiries. [ time to make a move my friend. say goodbye before you shuffle off. it's… best to die without regrets. ]#aventurine: countenance. [ now go. and pick the clothes that you like. then choose your desired identity and use them well. ]#aventurine: introspection. [ “sleep is the rehearsal of death”? why does life slumber? because we are not ready for the final rest. ]#aventurine: meta. [ the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason. but you've never gone in any other direction. ]#aventurine: little notes. [ you will keep winning; having never lost before. but why you? why... must it be you? ]#aventurine: wishes. [ even if the chance of winning is close to zero. well... you can't win if you don't play; right? ]#aventurine: etc. [ the chance… no matter how small: the potential is what you hang onto. that is what justifies the gamble. ]#aventurine: ipc. [ … i'll give you that and much more than that. the ipc will give you whatever you want. even what you don't want. ]#aventurine: trio. [ three cornerstones who for a measly penacony... offered their everything. you're more united than the family. ]#aventurine: astral express. [ friends: the game has commenced and you cannot choose to decline… nor do you have grounds to. ]#aventurine: fate. [ if the dice of fate are always weighted then that is our destiny. why then... do we struggle against it? ]#aventurine: past. [ our paths will cross again beneath kakava's shimmering auroras. farewell: kakavasha. ]#aventurine: luck. [ he's only drunk on the moment that makes his very life quiver. hell is only one decision away from heaven. ]#aventurine: topaz. [ i never expected the beautiful and kind-hearted director topaz to resort to distorting concepts like that. ]#aventurine: topaz. [ but since i survived i realized: wherever you go that's where i'll follow; nobody's promised tomorrow. ] immobiliter.#aventurine: jade. [ it's often used as a counterfeit for jade. but it looks like jade… can be substituted for aventurine too. ]#aventurine: veritas ratio. [ unfortunately for him; i make for a more competent conversationalist than the other dimwits around here. ]#aventurine: black swan. [ nothing remains hidden from you… does it? i will find my place in the web of your schemes; memokeeper. ]#aventurine: sunday. [ is this what the harmony represents? is it built upon constraint and coercion? ]#aventurine: acheron. [ only by casting aside reason does one truly gamble. “emanator” — I know you'll match my wager. ]#aventurine: v. youth. [ but the sun could not kill me and the quicksand sent me back to the embrace of the guild and the ipc. ]#aventurine: v. penacony. [ i seem that way because i am nervous. maybe you can help. what do you say; put our palms together a last time? ]#aventurine: v. future. [ the once falling die has at last landed on its earthly rest. quietly… peacefully: it at last landed. ]#tag drop#[ ... i wanted to add in a tag for robin. but i think that may have to come personalized. ]#[ /rubs hands together. lets see if any of these are broken. ]#aventurine: robin. [ so she sings; but does she dance? ] avaere.#[ okay i changed my mind-- there's a robin tag. ]
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supercityboys · 5 months
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No tags on this one but I internally cringe when people refer to Booster being called Michael as “deadnaming” him when the whole purpose of being called Booster is due his deep seated shame about being a nobody and being poor. It’s like the core principle of his character.
Why would Trixie or Ted calling him Michael be a bad thing when they’re the two characters who are have a deep connection to him? The purpose of stating his name is to show that it’s not the persona that’s loved but rather the actual person. And he doesn’t correct them it’s because he knows definitively that they do love and respect him and his worth is not derived from fame or money.
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silkentine · 4 months
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All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”
Design Notes and other opining below the cut:
For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.
He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL
If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.
Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL
For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.
I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.
It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!
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steddieas-shegoes · 26 days
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don't want to move on
for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'
rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.
Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.
But he couldn’t get out of this one.
And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.
It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.
He hasn’t quite decided yet.
“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.
Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.
“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.
Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.
“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”
“If he knows what’s good for him.”
Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”
Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.
The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.
Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.
“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.
No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.
Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.
“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”
Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.
“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.
What the fuck does that mean?
“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.
“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”
“Oh.”
Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-
“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.
“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”
“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”
“And how would you know?”
Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.
“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”
Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.
“Right. That’s true. I guess.”
And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.
“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.
“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”
Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.
Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.
“I’ve been fine.”
Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.
“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”
“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”
“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”
Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.
“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”
“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.
Steve thinks he might pass out.
He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?
He feels like he’s going crazy.
“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.
“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”
“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”
Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.
That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.
“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”
“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.
“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”
“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”
Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?
“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”
“To go less than a mile?”
“Or I could walk you.”
“And then walk back alone?”
“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”
It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.
No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”
“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”
It’s a knife to his chest.
Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.
”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”
He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.
Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.
Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.
He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.
He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.
“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.
He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?
“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”
“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”
Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.
“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.
Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.
He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.
He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.
Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.
“I love you.”
Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.
They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.
So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.
“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”
Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.
“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”
Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.
Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.
“I don’t know.”
It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.
“Why say it now?”
“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”
Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.
“I don’t want to move on.”
Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.
It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.
But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.
“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.
“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.
It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.
Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.
Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.
“What could you possibly be laughing at?”
“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.
“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”
Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.
They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.
He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.
Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.
“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”
Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.
“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”
Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.
“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.
“Me either. ‘S okay.”
Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.
“Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.
Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.
He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.
That thought is what sends him over the edge.
He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.
But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.
After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.
“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.
“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.
“You remembered that?”
“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.
He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.
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artemis32 · 8 months
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Locksley
yandere Batfam x reader
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yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months
also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested
word count - 4.8k
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mbe masterlist
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You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons. 
Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others. 
The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.
You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.
****
You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.
It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice. 
You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.
Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.
No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves. 
In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.
Now, years later, the sentiment had faded. 
You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor. 
Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.
That was your job, your purpose in life.
It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.
Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves. 
So you did.
And you never got caught. Not once. 
Until you did.
****
This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.
As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.
The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them. 
You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you. 
Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.
Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.
It made you sick.
How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.
At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.
You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.
The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued. 
Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you. 
At least it was nice to look at.
Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.
It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life. 
But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.
The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.
And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.
You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow. 
Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:
Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.
Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty. 
It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.
And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.
****
The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.
Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.
You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.
The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready. 
Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.
Rich people were fucking dumb.
They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.
People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.
You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.
Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.
Someone’s here.
You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.
Fuck.
It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.
If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed. 
You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.
Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.
When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.
The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?
One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.
Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.
As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking. 
And he turned to look right at you.
You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.
Fuck.
He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago. 
There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.
After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.
Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.
****
“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.” 
It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.
So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.
“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”
He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.
“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”
If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.
“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”
The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.
Your blood runs cold.
Robin.
You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.
“Don’t move.”
For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.
“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”
Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list. 
They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-
“How?”
Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”
You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.
“How did you find me?”
If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.
“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”
He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth. 
“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”
Your blood chills in your veins.
So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.
“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”
At that moment, you weigh your options. 
If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.
Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you… 
No. You couldn’t go with him. 
Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.
With your mind made up, everything else is easy.
You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.
Too slow. Faster. Move faster.
You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell. 
He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.
Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.
It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.
Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.
In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study. 
Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over. 
So no, you didn’t regret your decision.
This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.
****
“Who is she?”
“Her name is-”
“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”
Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.
“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”
Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Her address. What is it?”
Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.
“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”
He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.
“It does matter. She stole from us. She–” 
The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.
“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”
His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.
“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”
Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.
“Yes, Father. Of course.”
****
A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.
“Don’t.”
He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.
“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”
The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.
“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.
Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could. 
You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering. 
“Yes.”
He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.
You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.
“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions��� You kidnapped a civilian!”
Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–
Towards you.
“She’s awake.”
That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring. 
“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”
With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.
Bruce Wayne.
Bruce fucking Wayne.
…I’m so dead.
You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.
“Mr Wayne, I–” 
He holds up a palm, silencing you.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.
“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”
He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.
“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”
Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.
“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”
A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment. 
“Why is he so upset?” 
You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.
“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?
He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”
Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.
“If he’s Robin, then…?”
A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.
“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”
A choked noise dies out in your chest. 
Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?
His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.
You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.
“Why are you telling me all this?” 
He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”
Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.
796 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 8 months
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I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.
I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)
But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.
Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.
RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.
Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.
So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.
--------------
The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.
The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.
"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.
"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.
"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.
"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.
"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."
The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?
"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!
"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.
Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"
They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,
Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."
Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?
"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."
Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."
The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."
That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"
Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"
They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.
By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.
Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.
Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.
Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.
"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.
"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.
"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."
"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."
"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"
Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."
The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."
Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.
Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....
Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.
A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.
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hellfire--cult · 1 year
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 9.7k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, talking about traumas, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt.
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You see someone in a coffee shop, and you make the first move towards a new life.
A/N: I didn't think so many of you would enjoy this story! I hope everything lives up to your expectations, we're gonna go slow with this one, but don't think that Billy and Steve won't participate in this project of yours ;)
As always, all reblogs help, tagging it as well, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 2
Your eyes slowly opened, feeling completely light headed as you tried to focus all around you.
You groaned in pain as you felt a sharp sting in the back of your head and you felt the light above you blinding you, sharply. 
Where the fuck were you?
“Is she awake?” You heard a female voice talking. You tried focusing again and saw Kali’s face over yours and she smiled at you when she saw you open your eyes at her.
“She’s awake!” Kali says and you see more faces trying to come in focus over you, making you whine by how dizzy that made you. You heard Kali protesting to the other people to give you some space as she fanned your face with her hand. 
“W-Where am I?” You asked and slowly but surely, your senses started sharpening again. Below you, there was definitely a bed. Then, all the voices around you were female. And then, you smelt cinnamon, the same one as your scented candle in your room.
“Your apartment. Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” You heard Nancy ask worriedly as she held a bottle of water in her hand. Honestly, you didn’t feel sick, just plain dizzy, as if you had ran out of oxygen for a few minutes. You held onto Kali’s arm and slowly sat up, centering yourself in the room as it began to get in focus for your eyes. 
“Jesus, what happened?” You asked as you grabbed onto Nancy’s bottle and Robin looked at Nancy worriedly and then back at you.
“You fainted.” 
“That much I know Robs.”
“In front of the stripper.” You spat the sip of water you just took, dizziness completely gone now, embarrassment and shame taking over your body as an anxious knot filled in the center of your gut. Barb stepped away from in front of you just in time before she got drenched and you started coughing wildly as Vickie patted your back.
“Oh god, now I am gonna be sick.” You say as nausea fills your stomach thanks to how humiliated you felt. You just remembered his brown eyes, looking at you, getting closer and closer to you. You winced as you tried to imagine his face when you simply blacked out in front of him. How pathetic it must have been for him. 
“Yeah, you’ve been out for thirty minutes.” You groaned loudly at Barb’s words and you looked at Nancy. You were so embarrassed for ruining her night, and even making all of them go through all of this. 
“Nance, I am so sorry. Words can’t describe how stupid I feel for this… I should have waited in the car, or in the bathroom, or away from the stage…” You hid your face in your hands as tears started to fill in your eyes. You felt so weak, so small because of this issue of yours. You made your friends end their fun night because of you.
“No, no! I shouldn’t have even considered a strip club knowing one of my bridesmaids doesn’t do good in a place like that!” Nancy replies, trying to make you realize she didn’t mind, but you were too far gone to notice that. How many more nights will you screw up in this way?
You remembered your prom night. Because of your shyness, you were always the target for bullying, and boys didn’t help at all with your case. They pulled your hair, got close to your face to tease you, grabbed your shoulders, caged you against the wall just to see you squeal in fear. 
So that night, you decided to try and be brave, only to be cornered inside the boy’s bathroom by three guys from the soccer team. They were telling you they could cure you if you’d only suck their dicks. That was all you needed. Thankfully, Kali smashed into the bathroom with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the men on the spot. She had seen you being pulled aside, and in your shock, you didn’t pull away, nor ran. 
That was a dangerous situation, but this one… This one was plainly humiliating. Embarrassing. Pathetic. 
The poor guy was just doing his job, and he had to see you crumble in front of him, just by his mere sight and touch. He was supposed to make you feel desired, and you cannot even imagine how he felt when you just fainted on him. Eddie. Poor Eddie.
“Hey, if he didn’t catch you in time, you would have hit your neck on the back of your chair.” You looked up to see Robin speaking to you.
“He helped me?”
“He even carried you to my car. Told me to drive safe and all.” Robin didn’t tell you, just to spare you from more embarrassment, but she explained your condition to Eddie and Joyce who were feeling responsible for what happened to you. The guy looked confused really, but didn’t press more than that and just waved all of you off. 
You were looking at Robin and then you looked at your arms. He had wrapped his arms around you, and lifted you in bridal style to carry you away. You sighed as you cursed at yourself for only being able to tolerate something like that when you were completely out and not conscious at all. 
You wanted to feel hands like that awake. You wanted to be able to enjoy a handsome man pampering you. You wanted to kiss a hot guy. You wanted and needed to be fucked with someone you felt attracted to, completely, not just barely. 
“Oh, sweetheart don’t cry… It really isn’t a big deal…” Kali wiped your tear away, one you didn’t even feel dropping, but she didn’t understand. It is a big deal. No one understands you, no one knows what this feels like. No one knows how you feel about this. No one gets it. 
You just wished you could be normal.
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It’s been a week since that night, and you tried. You were seriously trying. 
But you were now in your fourth coffee shop, parking your car, because the last three you’ve been at, the baristas, were young men. As soon as you entered the doors and saw the counter and the man behind it, you immediately left. 
After that night, it seemed as if your shyness and your nervousness only worsened just by how humiliating those events were. You couldn’t even turn on your camera at the team meetings of your workplace, which thankfully, it was 100% from home. You worked at a big company just as an administrator, and it paid well so you didn’t complain.
Now, on a friday, you look forward to the afternoon coffee, and you were happy to see that in your fourth coffee place, you found a woman at the front counter. You walked towards her as you looked into your wallet, looking for cash.
“Hi! What can I get you?” You heard her cheery voice and you looked up with a smile.
“Hello, um… Just a medium coffee with a bit of creamer please.” She nodded at you and you handed her the money so she could go and start preparing you coffee. She asked for your name and told you she would call you once it was done. You nodded at that and stepped aside, grabbing your phone to scroll through your instagram. 
You smiled when seeing the stories of Robin. She was posting about how boring her classes were at nursing school. Then you jumped over to Nancy’s which was a picture of her and Jonathan. Your smile faltered a little at that.
Jonathan was a handsome guy, and when you met him you didn’t feel that immense shyness you always felt. You never knew why, because deep inside you, you knew he was attractive. Yet, you could shake hands with him, and engage in conversation as if it were a natural thing for you to do. 
A deep voice came from next to you, and your eyes widened. You knew that voice. You recognized it, because last time it vibrated so close to your ear, it had settled in the deep of your stomach. You slowly side eyed, turning your head just a bit and you held in the gasp as you felt your body grow a cold sweat. 
“The usual, Princess.”
Oh fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch. 
You could see his hair tied up in a bun, some specks of unshaved beard covered his jaw, and the smell. You could smell the wooden cologne. Kind of leathery like. You turned your head as you felt your whole face turn a deep shade of red, and it almost felt like it moved all over your body. 
Your fingertips felt like they were sweating, and the knot in your stomach was moving all around. She took his order and you stepped aside trying to create some space between you two. You looked away so he wouldn’t recognize your face, because if he did, you were sure you would die. 
Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you were looking at the barista’s every move. She was preparing your coffee now, and his presence was just overwhelming you entirely. You wanted, no, NEEDED, to bolt right out of there. You could hear him yawn as he stood next to you, and your nerves were going insane right now. You heard your name being called out, snapping you out of your almost panic attack. 
“Thank you…” You said almost in a whisper as you took the coffee in your hands. You didn’t waste a single second, turning away and rushing out of the shop, taking a deep breath in of the clear oxygen. Now, you don’t really think it would be adequate to fill your body with caffeine when your nerves were this bad, but you already paid for it. 
Your heart was on the verge of exploding as you took many deep breaths in. You should apologize to him, or say thank you for helping your friends carry you out of the club, but here you were, running once again. Like you always did. 
But is it something you really want to do? Do you want to keep running?
You turned around and saw him through the window, taking slow sips of his coffee as he looked through his phone. His profile was already making you sweat by just how good looking he was, without even trying, with the afternoon sun hitting him in the right places. 
You wanted a normal life. You wanted to be able to feel attraction. You wanted to be kissed passionately. You wanted physical touch. You wanted to be normal, simply normal. 
So your feet moved. They guided you towards the doors again. They guided you into the shop. The girl looked at you with confusion over the counter and then you turned, going towards the booth where the man was seated at.
Eddie though, didn’t even acknowledge you. He was tired, too spent from last night's show. He was grabbed onto more than usual, and he had done several personal lap dances. Everything was good money of course, and he knew he sealed his fate into being the favorite one the moment he agreed on being physical with clients. No more than a kiss, or some holding, but that made him wanted. 
He didn’t mind really, but when the ladies would take advantage of that and touch him, when they knew they shouldn’t, drove him up a wall. He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t bang one or two clients per week, sometimes for money, sometimes for his pleasure. This was all his doing. Joyce was against them doing that, but his colleagues, and himself, found out that their dicks can get them two thousand a night.
He didn’t even notice until a shadow casted over him, that made him look up, that you had sat right in front of him, making him frown in confusion because… You weren’t looking at him. You were looking downwards and he could almost see the steam coming out of one of your ears.
“Um–”
“I’M SORRY.” He jumped at the high pitched loud tone, almost a squeak, making him shake his coffee a little bit on his hand. 
“Jesus christ!” It was too late for loud noises, and much more for apologies he didn’t have a clue on why they were being said to him. And from a girl who wasn’t even looking at him. You were trembling, looking at your lap, because that apology came out way too embarrassing for your own good, and now you wanted nothing more but to crawl and disappear into thin air.
You stayed silent, trying to form words in your throat, but you could only feel the lump forming, and you cursed at yourself internally because you thought you were making progress by sitting in front of him, but now that you made a fool out of yourself, once again, you wanted to run away. But his voice stopped you.
“Holy shit, it’s you. The girl who fainted.”
Your blood went cold. Of course you would be remembered as that. Shit, everyone that night will remember you as the pathetic girl who fainted in the arms of a stripper. Your knuckles went white on your lap as you gripped them tightly, trying to fight the urge of running away. Your voice was still not found but there was no need because he kept talking.
“Are you alright? After that night?” He was asking for your wellbeing. This guy who didn’t even know you was asking if you were doing okay. You had to answer, you had to say something. Anything, just move your lips, make the air come out.
“Yes…” You almost mumbled it, but it was something. Eddie was squinting at you, his phone long forgotten on the table as he inspected you. He gave a small smirk, even if you weren’t looking at him, he just couldn’t help himself.
“And I thought your friend made up a horrible excuse for you that night, saying you were shy against men. I can see that she wasn’t lying.” Your body jerked up at that, your eyes widening and your head lifting up slightly, focused on his cup and he was finally able to see your face. You were beet red, making him smirk even more.
“Y-You were doing a great job! It’s m-my fault for trying to be strong and staying there!” Did you just say he was doing a great job? That formally? To a stripper? You winced at your words, ready to stand up and walk away but the sound of his laughter stopped you, and you wanted to look up, but you knew that it was going to make you freeze in place. 
“Thank you darling. I guess I appreciate the feedback.” He noticed how you jumped slightly at the nickname he gave you and he cleared his throat. “I guess I do, in fact, owe you an apology myself…”
At that, your eyebrow raised up, not looking at him, but staring at his phone this time, just trying to not meet his gaze at all. Why would he need to apologize to you?
“You didn’t do anything w-wrong!” You stuttered at the last words, but you were surprised to have found your voice quicker this time. 
“Well, Billy told me that there was a girl that needed her friend’s help to put a bill in his jeans. He told me what you looked like and what table you were at… You were my target that night.” You froze at those words, and the knots in your belly started tangling even more, not understanding why he would target you like that. “Shit, I didn’t know you actually had a problem with men, I mean… You were at a strip club, Sweets.” 
You couldn’t help the small huff that escaped your lips with the hint of a smile on your lips. It did sound quite stupid if he said it like that. He stared at your reactions, taking a sip out of his coffee and you could see the movement from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have some coffee in your hand as well. You took a sip too, feeling the warmth in your throat, soothing out the dryness this interaction provoked in you.
“It was… My best friend’s bachelorette party…” You explained to him and he was still not understanding where you were getting at, so he stayed silent for you to elaborate which made your nerves peak up again. “I-I didn’t want t-to bail on her.” You stuttered again as you talked about your feelings to a stranger who grinded on you a few nights back.
“Ah. I see. Next time you go to a place like that, wear a sign or something around your neck. You know, like the dogs that wear a harness that say ‘Nervous’.” Those words coming out of his mouth finally made you open your mouth as a giggle came out. You covered your mouth to stop your laughing but he caught you way off guard.
Eddie was still staring at you, a bit of pride in himself as he saw you laughing because of him, and he was glad you got to loosen up a little bit in his presence. He was curious, way too curious for his own good. Ever since he got this job with his friends, roommates even, all the women he met were straightforward, knowing what they wanted, hands roaming without fear all over his body. Yet you are here, embarrassed for laughing in front of him.
And your eyes still never met his.
“Why did you approach me darling?” 
Your giggles stopped immediately, and your eyes slightly widened as you put your hands around your coffee again. Your heart was simply exploding now, and the tips of your fingers were tapping on the cup, trying to steady a normal breathing pace in your lungs, in sync. You were being engulfed by flames, and it worsened each time you remembered that his gaze was on you.
But you didn’t want to feel like this, which irritated you even more.
“I-I want help.” At that, Eddie raised his eyebrow in question, but he rested against the booth, waiting for you to continue. You stayed silent for a minute, noticing that he was being patient with you, acknowledging the fact that this wasn’t easy for you to do, and the knot in your stomach detangled just a bit, loosening up enough for you to keep talking. “I want to be normal.”
Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You didn’t think you were normal just because you had this situation going on with yourself. He felt a little sad for you, and he couldn’t even imagine for how long you really struggled with this. 
“I want– I want to be able to have a normal life…” You pressed on and he was slowly understanding where you were getting at, and he looked at your cup, seeing your name written on it. 
“Right… And you want my help with what exactly?” 
“I want to fight this… this shyness… I don’t want to be nervous anymore. I am tired of making a scene or embarrassing myself because of it. I don’t want my friends to accommodate to my needs everytime we go out…” You didn’t even notice that you did not stutter once at those statements. Statements you were fully aware of yourself and you were fed up with. Eddie, obviously, noticed, raising his eyebrows up, losing themselves under the small fringe of his curls.
He was looking at you, wondering how this day turned completely on its axis and now you were sitting in front of him, shaking like a deer in front of some headlights, but still voicing your worries out. He was skeptical really, not knowing if this was all a farce to get in his pants for free. 
He wasn’t going to lie, he would fuck you for free. You were pretty, but you didn’t make an effort to show that off. Your clothes were bland, your make up was just some blush on your cheeks, and your hair was tied up in a ponytail. 
But if your intentions were to sleep with him, you wouldn’t have said what you said next.
“I w-will pay you! I just want to– be able to talk eye to eye…” His heart clenched slightly at that. You didn’t want him to teach you sexual stuff, or something of the sort… You just wanted to be able to talk to him properly, or any man for that matter. He gave a small nod, as if in thought, even if you weren’t even looking at him. 
His life has been very monotonous lately. For the past year to be exact. It was work, women, eat, sleep, shower, and do it all over again, every single day. He didn’t know if his roommates felt the same, but he knew that Steve started pottery classes, and then Billy had gotten the hobby of playing video games in his free time. 
Yet Eddie didn’t have the motivation to do anything. Until now. 
This was new, intriguing, and something that might ignite some fire in his everyday mundane life. So he reached his hand out towards you, and you looked at his ringed fingers with wide eyes, wondering what was going on.
“First things first. Presentation. I’m Eddie.” He said to you and his hand was waiting patiently. You gulped as you stared down at it, but then realization hit you. He was going to help you with this, and a flame of happiness ignited in you, slowly reaching out and putting your palm against his. You noticed the different size and the warmth of his skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
You gave him your name in a stutter and he grinned when he closed his hand on yours and saw you stiffen slightly, so he softened his grip, to then move your hands up and down gently in greeting. He pulled away, and you put your hand onto your lap as quickly as you could. Your whole body was ablaze, still looking at his phone to not clash eyes with him. 
“I-I can pay you–”
“Nothing.” Your eyes widened at that, raising an eyebrow up in question and you almost raised your head to look at him. “You look really shaken by this, and taking money from you doesn’t really sit right with me… And who knows, maybe this will blossom into an odd friendship.” 
Those words slipped out of his mouth before he could help it, and a slight pink tint formed on his cheeks. He really did crave for another friendship, already getting tired of just being with Billy and Steve. They are great, and they are almost like brothers, but maybe that was the thing. It was just those two, and no one else. 
You on the other hand turned a deep red at that, feeling your heart banging in your chest, not being able to take it anymore and you grab his phone, startling him completely and his eyes went wide at the action, but you didn’t move from the seat. You opened the dial without unlocking the phone, sliding up from the right corner of the screen and you pressed your cell phone number in there. 
You slid it back to him and stood up, not being able to handle the pressure of his stare any longer and he held onto his phone to look down at the number on it. His eyebrows centered in the middle with a frown and he raised his head up only to see you gone, turning his head around until he saw you rushing out of the shop through the window and into your car. 
He looked down at his screen, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked at his cup and saw the number of the barista under his name. She had tried many times to put her number down in his cup, but he never saved it on his phone. He looked down on your number, a scoff coming out of his lips.
“Hmm...”
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You had been screaming into your pillow for the past half hour. 
You cannot believe what you did two hours ago. You gave your number to a stripper. To a goddamn stripper. And you even asked for help with this issue of yours, but what if it came out wrongly? What if he thought you were asking him to help you sexually? It didn’t really feel like that but what if you didn’t read the air right?
It was an impulse. A goddamn impulse, but you were fine, it was all going to be okay, because you left your phone, and maybe he doesn’t even indulge in this stupidity of yours and move on, or maybe he deletes it by mistake and everything will be back as it was before.
You stopped screaming at that.
But you didn’t want to go back to before. That’s why you took that chance, and you have to look at the positive side of all of this. You sat in front of him, you talked to him, you shook his hand! You shook a handsome man’s hand! That’s improvement, a lot of it. Yes, if you put your mind to it, maybe you can change this stupid part of yourself.
You remembered his voice. Deep but with a hint of mischief behind it, and then those words that sounded hopeful yet sad. How he managed to say that the two of you could become friends in the meantime. You wondered what his daily life was like now, outside of his job. Who did he live with? How old is he? What is his favorite food?
You grabbed your phone as you turned to look up at your ceiling. You unlocked your phone to start scrolling through TikTok. You smiled at all the dog videos that showed up on your For You page and saved all those cooking and baking tips you found. You were startled from your trance of scrolling when your phone started ringing. The beautiful sound ‘The Shire’ from The Lord of the Rings filled your ears which helped a lot to the anxious feeling of talking on the phone. Who did that nowadays?
You looked at the number and it was not saved on your phone. Should you answer? Maybe it’s a telemarketer. Did you forget to pay a bill? Internet? No, you paid all of those. Your eyes widened in realization.
What if it’s him?
You were about to start trembling and in your fuss you pressed the Answer button and you almost cried out as you started hearing the other side of the phone. 
‘We are calling to ensure you have the best communication serv–’
And you hang up, fucking automatic calls. You let out a sigh of relief until you felt that it wasn’t that much of relief at the end of it. Something felt uneasy within you, like something was not right. A certain disappointment maybe? Did you want him to be the one calling you? But that would be too much for you to handle, definitely. 
You sighed, sitting up on the bed, scratching your head until a soft ‘Ting’ on your phone caught your attention. You looked down on the notifications and it was a message from an unknown number. Your eyes widened when you looked into the text preview.
‘I believe that in text form, you won’t be too shy to talk to me.’
Your heart got caught in your throat as you begin to cough desperately. You weren’t expecting something from him so soon, and it startled you completely. You held onto your chest as you read the text again, and again and again… You didn’t feel the blood flowing at the tip of your fingers, his image coming up in your head. His side profile of today, but then his face up close to you, in the middle of purple and pink lights in the club.
You clenched your eyes tightly, trying to move the images away. You took a deep breath in and unlocked your phone, heading over to the text. First, you saved his contact, because you might forget right? Then you put in a personal notification message because you just felt like it, but maybe if you do that, you can also put in a special ringtone as well? You didn’t do that for everyone but you were feeling like–
You were stalling. You were definitely stalling. 
You gulped as you went back to the screen, now with the title ‘E’ because you didn’t want to receive a message from him when you were with your friends. They knew his name, so might as well tell them it’s Eleanor from work. 
You started typing ‘Hi’ but he didn’t start with hello, so you erased that. Maybe a ‘how are you’ or ‘how has your day been going’ but that really doesn’t sound right either, he didn’t ask you that at all. You deleted it again and were about to type in again until you saw the three dots that signaled you that he was typing.
‘Even on text? Damn, I wonder how many texts you just wrote and deleted.’
He caught you, red handed, and you took a deep breath in, pushing your embarrassment away as you started typing.
‘Not many.’ You were already biting the skin on the side of your left thumb thanks to your pumping heart, which only increased its beats every time you saw the three dots from his side.
‘Really? I bet you wrote ‘Hey handsome’ and deleted it, right?’
You giggled at that, feeling your nerves loosen up a bit at his cheekiness and you typed once more.
‘Oh, sure, whatever strokes your ego.’
‘That hurt princess.’ 
Your breath hitched at the endearment. 
‘You’ll survive.’
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‘Black is not a color.’
‘Not you too with that bullshit. 🙄’
‘But it’s not, it’s a shade, as well as white!’
‘It’s my favorite color, a color, and that’s final.’
You giggled at the banter you were creating with Eddie over some texts. It’s been a week since you saw him and it’s been a week since you both started texting each other. They’re not long conversations really, just an hour a day or less, and it always starts with Eddie asking you something about yourself.
On Monday, it was your work. He made a lot of funny comments about how he is an accountant when you knew what his job actually is. Then Tuesday was about your favorite animal, in which you said Dog and he said bats. He told you he actually has a swarm of bats tattooed on his right forearm. Then food on wednesday, and favorite drink on thursday.
Today was about your favorite colors. 
Yours was red, sometimes purple, while Eddie claims that his favorite color is black. You were having fun messing with him, smiling at the phone as the nerves in your belly were kept to a minimum. You were surprised how loose you got when you received his texts, and it was almost as if you were excited when they did. 
“Why are you so smiley?” You blinked and looked up, completely forgetting you were having coffee with Robin at the Starbucks near your apartment complex. Robin actually got an apartment three floors down from yours and you were happy that you have a close friend as a neighbor. 
“Oh, um… El sent me a meme.” You lie, feeling your chest compress at it. You didn’t want to lie to your friends, but you were doing this behind their backs because you didn’t need the encouragement. You wanted to do this on your own, without the need of your friends overprotecting you as if you were a piece of paper that might rip apart at any comment a man does to you.
“Right…” She sipped on her coffee as another notification made you look down at the screen, and you went pale at what you saw. It was a message from Eddie, yes, but the anxiety started filling your stomach as you read what he wrote to you.
‘We should hang out this weekend. Test the waters.’
He was asking you out. Well not asking you out, more like hang out, as friends, but, oh no. You were feeling nauseous, the memory of his face, and his stomach showing coming up in your mind. You don’t think you will be able to tolerate it, and you don’t even know if you can trust this guy. You haven’t told your friends about Eddie, and if you went missing or something–
“IT’S EDDIE.” You blurted out, startling Robin, your panic winning completely over you. She spat the coffee, coughing loudly as she punched her chest a few times, trying to recover herself. You on the other hand were slightly panting from the anxiety that was eating you up, but the need to feel protected won you over. 
“What!?” 
“I AM TALKING WITH EDDIE.” You said again loudly, making various customers turn their heads at the commotion and Robin made you lower your voice with a big ‘shh’ and a hand movement. 
“Eddie… Who the fuck is Eddi– Oh, WHAT?!” Now the customers turned their heads at Robin’s explosion. You were clutching your phone to your chest and you could feel your eyes beginning to heat up from the tears that were threatening to leave them. 
“I know, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to lie, but-but–” 
“Why are you talking to–” Robin looked around and bent over a little closer to whisper to you. “To the stripper?! Are you nuts?!”
“I mean– I might? I don’t know? I–” You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes as Robin sighed in front of you. “I just need help… Being normal…” Robin’s eyes turned those into sad ones as she looked up at you. She stood up, putting her hand out for you to take.
“Tell me all about it while we head back to your place.”
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“Yep, you are definitely crazy.”
You were pacing back and forth while Robin watched you from the couch, looking down at all the texts you’ve sent Eddie. But even if she did call you crazy, your friend was proud of you because she never thought you would tell a man about your favorite things. She also didn’t expect this Eddie guy to actually be gentle with you, never crossing a line, never flirting with you.
She wondered if his intentions were pure and when you told him he didn’t accept the money, Robin was baffled. Now, the true reason as to why you had told her about this, is because of his last message. He didn’t pressure you into saying yes, so that was a green flag, and it also lets someone know who you were with last in case the worst case scenario happens.
“I know I am crazy Robin, I fucking know, it was an impulse–”
“But I think it’s working… I mean, maybe he can actually figure out what’s going on in that head of yours.” You gulped at that and continued pacing. Nothing traumatic with men happened to you, the absence of your father and the multiple cheating on your mother helped, but it didn’t explain the reason as to why it was almost as if you were terrified of men. Attractive men at that. 
You had of course the bullying at primary school, and then all the way to high school, but you cannot really pinpoint anything too cruel. 
“Robin, I– I don’t even know him. What if he makes a move on me?” You would probably pass out and he would have access to do whatever. You really don’t know the guy, even if he seems trustworthy on text messages, that’s just what they are. Text messages. He could be lying, he could be pretending to be something he is not, and you can’t read his face or his movements. Not that you would if you were in person either, because you can’t fucking look at him.
“I don’t think– Look, invite him to the bar three blocks down, just the two of you, and don’t make a fuss about it. He seems cool, and he never overstepped from what I’ve seen… Nothing with a double meaning either.” She was trying to reassure you, to help you with it. For some reason Robin had a feeling that you didn’t cross paths with the stripper again just out of pure coincidence. She was a fair believer of fate, and karma. 
“I– I mean it is public, a bar.” She gave you a nod and handed you the phone. You took it into your trembling fingers, looking down at the messages.
“Yes, and you have me as your emergency contact. You just have to press the lock button 5 times and I know where to get you.” That statement actually calms you a lot. And the fact that you would be at a bar three blocks away from home was also bringing you relief. “Remember, this is not a date… He is not asking you out romantically.”
“Right, I know that, as a friend.” You replied to her, giving Robin a nod as you felt another uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t describe once more. You looked down at your phone, and licked your lips, gulping loudly as you typed in your response.
‘Does tomorrow at 6, the bar between Monroe ST. and Chadwick sound good to you?’
You almost threw the phone towards Robin, feeling yourself cringe at the risky message you just sent, but if you truly think hard about it, he was the one who sent it first. Robin caught your phone as it trembled in your hand. She heard a popping sound and looked down at the screen, a smirk breaking on her lips.
“Sounds perfect, and I will give you a whole presentation on why Black is indeed a color."
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You were trying to calm your nerves as you looked at the watch, every now and then on your phone. It’s already 6:05 PM and he didn’t show. It’s only five minutes late, but maybe he bailed?
But he was the one who asked you, why would he bail? But maybe he regretted it? Oh god, did he have to work today? You invited him without even asking and maybe he has a full night and you didn’t even think of–
“Parking around here is a pain in the ass Princess.” You heard his voice as he passed by you, sitting at the seat of the booth in front of you. You felt your body tensing up, and you were now self conscious of your clothes. But it wasn’t a date, so you dressed normally, and you applied a bit of mascara. You weren’t good at doing your own makeup so you settled for the simplest of things, because if you tried to do something, it would be worse than nothing.
Your eyes immediately drifted to the napkin holder on the side as you tried to gather up courage to talk to him. He sighed and put his phone on the table, right in front of him, which made your gaze drive to that. He did it so that he could see your face instead of your profile, taking note that last time you were together, your eyes didn’t leave his phone.
From your point of view you could see his shirt, which was a black simple t-shirt with an Iron Maiden illustration on it. You wanted to know what he looked like right now, and given from what you could smell of his perfume, he must look nice. 
“Sweets, I need you to cooperate with me here. We talked all week on the phone, I assure you it’s no different than using your voice.” You blinked once and maybe that was the trick. You just have to imagine this is just texting, as if you were reading your messages out loud.
“I-I know that…” The curiosity was killing you at this point, but you wanted to make sure of something first. “Do you work tonight? I didn’t even ask you before…” He was surprised at your question, and he smirked slightly, nodding. Once he realized you still weren’t looking at him, he sighed as he opened his mouth again.
“Yeah, but not till 10 PM. Jason and Billy are on the early shift today.” He explained to you and that is actually a lot of time to talk to him. You didn’t think you would stand being with him, looking at his phone for more than an hour. You felt another presence approaching and you looked up to your side, seeing the waitress coming up.
“Ready to order?” She gave you a small smile and you nodded.
“A beer, please.” She put it down and turned to Eddie, her smile widening as you watched her interact with him. He must really look nice if this woman was smiling like that. Why can't you be like her? Why do you have to be so nervous about it all? You wanted to smile at a cute boy, not barf on him or pass out on the spot.
“Same as her.” Was his short reply. Your gaze went back down towards his phone as the waitress retreated to get your drinks. You wondered how he looked at her. Did he smile? Did he wink? Did he keep a serious face on? “Didn’t take you to be a beer kind of girl.”
“Oh, well, it’s really my drink of choice, but a sweet drink I like too sometimes.” You replied, keeping your gaze on his phone, imagining that everytime he talked to you, a small ‘Ting’ of a notification sounded in your ears.
“I like beer too, but I am more into the bitter kind of stuff.” He replied to you and you now burnt all over because you didn’t know how to keep the conversation flowing. Gladly, the waitress returned quickly with the two bottles of beer opened and ready to drink. You grabbed yours and saw Eddie’s hand wrapping around his own bottle, leaning it towards you. You gulped and clinked your bottle to his.
“To cure your shyness sweetheart.” 
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips at that small sweet touch. Giving a cheer for you, even in the short lapse of knowing each other, made your heart calm down just a tiny bit as you took your first sip of the bottle. Eddie caught on the smile you gave and was about to talk when your phone rang.
You looked at the caller and saw it was Robin. Your eyes widened, realizing you didn’t tell her you were already with Eddie. It was kind of a safe protocol, tell her you arrived, tell her he arrived, and keep her updated if you remembered to do so. You had sent her your live location as well, keeping you safe at all times. You declined the call and immediately sent her a message to tell her you were with Eddie already and that everything seemed ok.
Eddie though, was wide eyed, staring at you.
“Was that the flute of The Shire?”
You blinked at your phone and you almost looked up thanks to your surprise. He liked The Lord of The Rings? You weren’t a super fan of it, but the soundtrack had captivated you since you were a kid. 
“I, yes–”
“Holy shit… Look, I only got my little brother to talk this with, and– I just never expected you to like something like that.” He replied, a wide grin on his face. You gulped, a blush on your cheeks. So he has a brother, another small detail of his life.
“I could say the same about you…” He chuckled at that, nodding at the thought.
“Never saw a Stripper being a total nerd?” He replied and you snorted at that, followed by a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He was thinking, wondering of a way to get you to look at him. “Is it your favorite movie Saga?”
“Oh, um… No, not really. Harry Potter is my favorite.” He was surprised at that answer, taking a sip of his beer, tapping his finger on the table. He didn’t know much about it, but he never really took the time to watch the movies chronologically. He had an idea of the main story, of course, but never knew the details.
“I like the fifth movie, the one with the hippogriff.” He said and your eyebrows pulled to the center in a frown at that.
“That’s the third movie…” You replied at that and he scratched his head, thinking hard as he tried to remember the small details.
“Really? Then wait, the fifth one is not the one with the snake right?” He tried again and you felt something in your belly, something like annoyance but not quite. 
“You never watched them correctly?” He shrugged at that.
“Never found the time, or cared enough to do so… Plus, the scenery is nothing like The Lord of the Rings.” And Eddie’s eyes immediately widened, his voice gone, and his hand clenching against the bottle in his hand.
“Okay, first of all, the scenery is fucking amazing, the shots are beautiful and they got them in real places and added CGI on them. Then, the soundtrack I admit, is nothing like The Lord of the Rings, but you can’t deny that all of the music in the movies are nostalgic and majestic. Also, the character designs are incredible, outfit wise and then we have all the spells! Everything is magical from the first movie to the last!” You replied to him with exasperation. You knew about Harry Potter, and you weren’t going to let him talk about your favorite thing like that.
“Ah, yes, I am not shaming it sweets, I just prefer the latter. Plus, I never understood that part of the movie where the bad guy returns from a diary? I mean…” He continued, trying to not show his surprise to you so you wouldn’t stop. You took another sip and continued talking.
“That would be the second movie, and it was a figment of a memory implanted in the diary. The diary was part of Voldemort’s soul, a horrocrux which helped him be sort of immortal.” You pressed on, throwing your knowledge at him. 
“Immortal?”
“He has seven horrocruxes in total, so he split his soul in seven parts. You had to destroy all seven in order to finally be able to kill him properly. You have to watch all of the movies in order to understand all of this! Or read all of the books!” You finished your blabbering with almost a pant.
“Sweets.”
“What?” You scoffed out and he chuckled, smiling at you.
“You’ve been talking to me, looking at me in the face, since you started ranting about Harry Potter.”
You froze, realizing that your eyes were looking into his brown ones. His hair was down, over his shoulders, the stubble you saw that day on his chin was gone, freshly shaved, and over his shirt he had a black leather jacket on. His dimples were showing as he smiled at you, and the knot in the stomach was there, it definitely was, urging you to run away.
But it didn’t urge you to look away. 
He squinted slightly as he inspected you. You weren’t looking away, which is a good sign, but you stopped talking all together. He was thinking, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he thought.
“What’s your favorite movie? Not Saga, movie.” He asked and you slightly snapped out of your trance, absorbing the way his mouth moved as he talked to you.
“T-Titanic.” He rolled his eyes at that and you slumped slightly as an angry frown came to your eyebrows again.
“Really? That cliché sweetheart?” Your mouth almost hung open at his words, feeling offended by him saying that about your favorite film.
“It’s a fucking masterpiece!” You replied to him and he sighed, leaning on the table as he took a sip of his beer again, and you followed afterwards to wet your dry throat.
“Indulge me, how is that romantic movie a masterpiece?”
“Well, I am noticing you are not the romantic type of guy, but looking past that, the scenes? The music and ambience are outstanding, and for it being a movie of 1997, it was so amazingly done! Not to mention that James Cameron was the first ever person to get clear images of the actual wreckage.” You replied, taking another sip and he was still looking at you.
He lied to you. He also thought Titanic was a masterpiece. But he came to realize something, but he needed to test something else first, just to make sure that his suspicions were correct.
“So you just said I am not the romantic type of guy… Does that mean you are? I mean, I want to understand right now, but with this thing you got going on… Did you ever… do anything?” He asked you, actually curious about it and you felt the knot in the stomach form once more, the lump in your throat suddenly blocking your voice and you immediately looked down towards his phone again, a deep crimson covering your cheeks.
“It’s… Not that I am a virgin– I don’t…” And Eddie’s head almost made a ‘ding’ sound. It had clicked the moment you stared into his eyes without noticing and you talked about something you liked. 
“I know what’s going on.” He softly muttered, very low but you could hear it, your eyebrows frowning at that. “Also, I didn’t bring my powerpoint presentation, sorry about that, but Black is a color, I mean, I am wearing it all right now.” He was at this again? You looked up at him, completely wide eyed, not believing he was still adamant about black being an actual color.
“Seriously Eddie, you can google it and it will tell you it’s a shade! I took art lessons in school, and the professor was always very strict on not calling white and black colors!” You were looking at him again. He nodded in thought and tapped the table, slumping back against the booth. He was staring at you, deep in his own mind, and you suddenly grew nervous at his stare. “What?”
“I know what’s happening here, in your mind that is.” You blinked in surprise at that, the statement taking you completely off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever you are confident about something you know, you have no trouble talking to me. You have no trouble talking to me about things you are passionate about, or have experience in.” 
You were dumbfounded. You never thought of something like that happening to you, but now some things clicked inside your head. You didn’t talk with your male coworkers, no… But when a new hire would enter the company and you had to train them? You had no problem. Then when meeting Jonathan, he was attractive, yes… But… you were excited that Nancy is happy with him.
“Holy shit…” You muttered with wide eyes and he nodded at you with a small smile appearing in his lips to then fade away.
“Yeah… But it means that your confidence level is low. Like, confidence in yourself. That’s why you can barely talk sometimes, or you don’t look up to meet my gaze, or well… looked up, past tense.” He smiled at you, and it made your cheeks flush, but still your head was spiraling at his words. 
You weren’t confident in yourself?
“You mean… like my self-esteem?” You asked, and he sighed, giving you a small nod which made your stomach sink.
“I don’t know about your past, and honestly you don’t have to tell me. But maybe we can do some baby steps…” 
“Baby steps?” He took a sip of his beer and nodded, leaning on the table as he put his hand out to start counting with his fingers.
“First, why don’t you wear makeup? Is it because you are allergic or…?” 
“Uh, no… I’m not very good at it.”
“Have you tried tutorials?” You shook your head, a small feeling of shame coming up your throat. “Okay, so that’s step one. Watch some, practice. I am not saying you need makeup, but it helps a lot with your ego. Trust me, when I put on eyeliner I feel like I can conquer the world.” He says with a chuckle and you tilt your head with curiosity pricking at the tip of your tongue.
“You wear makeup?”
“Hell yeah, makes me look pretty.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. You couldn’t believe this man in front of you had a job like the one he has. “Step two, your clothes too.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You say with an offended tone and he just stares at you.
“Seriously? You wear bland colors. Put a little bit of sparkle in it, something you might feel sexy in, or pretty, but you have to feel it. You don’t dress for others, only for yourself.” You tried to remember your closet, and you hated to admit he was right. All your shirts were simple, none of them were tank tops, none of them had nice cuts on the cleavage, or were tight… Your jeans were all the same, and you never wore dresses or skirts, no matter if you really wanted to.
You just never thought you’d look good in them.
Oh fuck… He actually might have found the problem. 
“Third, be confident in your voice. We’re going to slowly work on it, but I think you are headed in the right direction, just not quite.” He replied to you and he watched how your face contorted into confused frowns and then understanding ones as if you were realizing so many things in your head. 
“You mean to be able to, for example… Ask things?” He pointed a finger at you with a smile to his face.
“And there’s the first one. Yes… Till now I was the one engaging in conversations, being in text form or here. I was the one asking you all the questions.” You gave him a nod in understanding, feeling the knot in the stomach not so strongly as before. He is attractive, yes, but he is not making moves, or comments, or anything to put you in a nervous state. The nervousness was still there, and you still struggled to keep eye to eye contact, but you were facing him.
“I see… So, I gotta go shopping then?” You say with a small smile on your face and he chuckles at you, nodding, taking a sip of his beer.
“Remember, dress for you. Not for the other people around you. If you feel confident in it, then it’s all that matters. By confident, I don’t necessarily mean comfortable, but that can also help.” You were staring at him as if you had found a personal god of some sort. This man, this male stripper, was giving you better advice than any therapist ever gave you, than your FRIENDS ever gave you in fact. 
You were grateful for them, but they never understood that you wanted to get better. Instead, they always made sure to make you comfortable whenever you all went out together, always protected you when men approached your group, but never once helped you make the leap of getting better, of trying to be normal like them. They just accepted you the way you are.
But you didn’t want to be accepted like this. Not anymore.
“What is your favorite movie?” You asked him, and his eyes slightly widened at that, surprised by the change of conversation, but it seems you caught on in what you had to do. He smiled and laid back on the booth.
“Okay, what do you think my favorite movie is? Just by looking at me.” He says, flipping his hair over his shoulder and you giggled, as you looked at him. The nerves in your belly started forming again as you scanned his features, but you were trying to fight against it, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.
You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to judge him. But he was asking you himself, right? And if you say something wrong it can be directed as a joke, but maybe he doesn’t like it? Maybe he thinks you are throwing yourself on him? WHat if you say something insinuating to him and you didn’t realize it? What would he say–
“You’re thinking too much about it. Stop.” He was looking at you, and you didn’t even notice you went into a sort of trance, trying to think of the words to say. You shook your head, body filling you up in flames, so before you went into a panic, he continued talking. “Just say the first thing that comes to your head. I am not a person that easily gets offended, sweetheart.”
Those words actually made your nerves settle somewhat, and you took a deep breath in to try to make your heart do the same. You inspected him again and he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smirk.
“You look like a… The Notebook fan.” You joked, his eyes going wide, a laugh escaping his lips and you couldn’t help but giggle with him, his laugh being contagious, and the tips of your fingers began to feel warmth once again.
“Oh my god, how did you catch me? Am I that obvious?”
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End of part 2
A/N: I promise that... things are just gonna heat up from here on out. This was just to prepare you guys for it. (Billy and Steve will make an appearance soon.) I might change the rating on here to Mature, so if you don't have it enabled, please do.
Taglist is open, comment if you want in or send me an ask ;)
Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @bibieddiesgf @justheretostan
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yeetus-feetus · 5 months
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Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.
He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.
The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"
One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.
Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.
And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!
So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!
Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!
Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.
"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.
"I'm Robin."
"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.
Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.
Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.
Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.
"dick pick us up!"
"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"
"again!"
"again!"
It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.
Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.
But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.
"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.
Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."
Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.
It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".
"what are you reading?" Duke asks.
"Macbeth."
Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"
"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.
"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"
Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."
The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.
Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.
Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.
Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.
"gotta tell B"
"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.
"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.
"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.
Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.
"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.
Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!
"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."
quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.
idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine
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fanaticsnail · 6 months
Text
"Can You Buy Me Supplies?"
Masterlist Here
Crack Dialogue
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Summary: How the OP characters react to you asking them to purchase you sanitary items for your menstruation period. One sentence dialogue.
Robin, Franky, Chopper, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Nami, Usopp, Brook, Kid, Killer, Law, Mihawk, Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, Beckman, Doflamingo, Corazon.
Notes: this goes out to my afab!readers who experience menstruation. Little HC on how I think they'd react to your request. Enjoy!
Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @i-am-vita @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix
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Reaching for your Den-Den Mushi shell, you punch the buttons on the back of the receiver to relay your request.
You: "Hey, would you mind if you could get some things for me while you're out? I've just started my period, and I'm out of supplies."
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Robin: "Already did, love. I'll also purchase some comfort foods for Sanji to cook for you to get you through it. We'll be back soon!"
Franky: "Super! Absolutely, I can! Did you want anything else while I'm out?"
Chopper: "Sure! I'm also getting flavoured pain relief for you, sugar makes it go down easier. And a bubble boba-tea. You want milky or fruity?"
Zoro: "Didn't you get your period last month? Didn't we get enough of the stuff last time?"
Sanji: "I have prepared soup, a heated blanket, a special sitting space to read by yourself, and I'll pick you up whatever you need. Let me take care of you, my sweet."
Luffy: "Supplies for a period? Like meat? Like a meat period? A period where we're only eating meat?"
Nami: "Hey, we're in sync! I am keen on a night in. Wanna share snacks, books and be in our pajamas for the rest of the day when we get back?"
Usopp: "I think I can do that? It's not intimidating, and I'm not scared at all. But just in case you think I am, would you mind telling me exactly what you need so I don't get it wrong?"
Brook: "Yoo ho ho ho hoo. Absolutely I will."
Eustass Kid: "What size pussy ya got?"
Killer: "Do you want one of each of the sizes? Is there a preference to what type you want? Gotta help me out a bit, here."
Law: "Did you check my office steel cupboard? I've got the back ups in there. Are they the right size, or do you have a preference for a different style? Actually, while you're there, would you mind telling me if we're out of gauze strips and bandages? Do we have enough pain relief?"
Mihawk: "Check the drawer beneath the sink in your ensuite. I resupplied last week in preparation for your upcoming cycle. I also bought wine and dark chocolate. They're in the kitchen if you need them."
Sir Crocodile: "I'll send for some for you. While we wait: would you prefer if I embrace you to give you some body heat for comfort, or leave you alone to grit through the pain?"
Buggy: "Fuck yes, not preggo! Yesssss! Okay, I'm heading out. You want the usual, or do you want me to get you a different style? You know, shake it up for a change? Wanna try one of them cups that keep it all up in there? Hah, would a party popper work?"
Shanks: does not pick up the shell, and shows up the following week as if nothing happened. Beckman, however, sends you a care package with usual supplies with an apology on behalf of his captain's lack of care.
Beckman: "Just the usual, or do you want a weighted heating sack too? I can also pick you up some new pajamas and comfortable socks from the tailor beside the store. Tell me what you need."
Doflamingo: "No. Suffer."
Corazon: does not speak and taps the speaker end of the shell in alphabetised code "You. Want. Tampons. Or. Pads. ?. Can. Also. Get. Pain. Relief. Medication. .. What. Do. You. Need. ?. Do. You. Want. Chocolate. Or. Red. Meat. ?."
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nburkhardt · 7 months
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Omegaverse but most importantly oblivious Dustin, enjoy!
Steve smells.
Not bad, just different and Dustin can’t figure out what it is that his best friend turned older brother has done differently recently.
Sure, the upside down hasn’t been around for a good while now and Steve moved out in an apartment with Robin and Eddie. The Byers moved back to Hawkins recently and everyone is finally together again.
It’s been good, really good.
But Steve’s scent has changed and Dustin’s stuck on it.
Which shouldn’t bother him but it is! Steve’s scent has always been his favorite, a perfect mix of cinnamon and maple, it fit perfectly with their ma’s scent of vanilla and nutmeg. (Their home smells like a bakery, it’s heaven. Especially with his own scent of chocolate and coffee) So he’s curious okay?!
The new scent is more woodsy and it does work well with Steve’s original scent.
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There’s a snap of fingers and Dustin blinks a few times before seeing an amused Steve standing in front of him, “cool, you finally joining the conversation again?”
Dustin rolls his eyes, “I was listening”
“Yeah, sure, Henderson. ‘Cause that look you had was exactly like the one you had that led us trapped under the mall,” Steve raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms, “so mind sharing?”
Dustin shrugs, “Fine, I noticed your scent. It’s changed, but not bad it’s really nice actually. I was just trying to figure out why”
The rest of the room -Eddie, Robin and his Ma- grows quiet and Steve looks at him confused. And it makes him realize how weird that is to say out loud, actually. But it’s true regardless.
“Uh, huh.” Steve blinked at him before he looked over towards Eddie, “Dust, man, where’ve you been?”
“What?”
“My scent has been like this for four months, since my bonding? It’s really grown with my pregnancy too” Steve explained slowly as he made his way back to sit with Eddie, “You were in the room when we announced this, wasn’t he?”
That makes Dustin’s eyes widen as Eddie tilts his head at him confused before shrugging it off, “maybe he was in the bathroom?”
Dustin looks around shocked as his Ma looks just as confused as Steve, while Robin looks like she’s trying to hold in laughter. Making him even more confused, rubbing his eyes scrunching his face before looking back at Steve.
Steve who’s now practically in Eddie’s lap, Steve who is definitely pulling Eddie’s arms around him and fully relaxing against Eddie. Steve who looks the most content he’s ever looked sitting there with Eddie, letting out a happy purr and the scent of happy omega.
Everything clicks in his brain as Eddie’s scent starts to also pump out the smell he’s been smelling for months off of Steve. A woodsy apple like scent and now his brain is running a marathon to help him realize how oblivious he’s been.
Steve smells like Eddie, and now that he thinks about it, Eddie’s smelt different lately too and it never clicked that it was because They’re mates and -he was definitely in the room when it was announced- he just didn’t take in what was said, was too focused on something else at the time. Dustin feels like an idiot for not remembering his older brother is not only mated but also expecting.
“No- no I was,” He shakes his head, “I’m just oblivious”
~~
Idk I just started writing and had no plan whatsoever other than thinking how funny a thing could start with just ‘Steve smells’ lol. Also I’ll admit it, I’m a little high rn.
Tags aren’t working for me rn sorry to those I’m supposed to tag 🥺
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hotluncheddie · 10 months
Text
high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this
wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming
ao3
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called. 
He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful. 
It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens. 
Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time. 
And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)  
He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing. 
So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space. 
He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time. 
It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time. 
The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now. 
He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good. 
He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs. 
“Stevie?”
Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this. 
“…Eddie?”
“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”
Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide. 
Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.
“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper. 
He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else. 
Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl). 
“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.
“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it. 
Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”
And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe. 
His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie. 
The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that. 
The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls. 
He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back. 
‘‘Cause. What we making?” 
Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner. 
Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat. 
“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.
Eddie heard him.
He listened.
Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room. 
“Steve?”
Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home. 
“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak. 
He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy. 
“Steve, tell me what I did, please.” 
“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard. 
“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.
The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard. 
Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored. 
“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.
Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.
He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.
“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.” 
Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.
“You didn’t mean to?” 
“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.” 
Steve forces a deep breath. 
“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it. 
“Always like you Steve. Always.”
Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.
“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.
Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders. 
Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired. 
Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once. 
Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts. 
Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry. 
“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.” 
“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard. 
Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.  
He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping. 
Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out. 
Feels good. 
“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.
“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight. 
Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.” 
Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling. 
-
“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta. 
Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”
Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.
Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together. 
He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.
“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin. 
Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow. 
“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay. 
He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him. 
Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things
but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune
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hairstevington · 2 years
Text
Stranger Therapy
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3
Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!
Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!
A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms
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It’s a match!
“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.
“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 
“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 
“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.
Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.
“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 
“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.
 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”
Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 
“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 
“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 
“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”
“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.
“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”
“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 
“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”
“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.
“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 
-
Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in
Steve: Wait, really?
Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun
Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?
Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far
Eddie: Boo. 
Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy
Steve: Okay…
Steve: So how do we do this?
Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea
Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!
Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3
Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 
Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.
Steve: I got it covered. 
Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 
Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?
Eddie: Nope!
Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.
Steve: This is insane.
Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?
Steve: Thrilled.
Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.
Eddie: 😛
Eddie: Don’t worry about it.
-
“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.
“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 
“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”
“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”
“That’s…actually genius.” 
“I know.” 
Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 
He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.
-
The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -
None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 
Apparently, really weird first dates.
They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 
Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 
This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 
Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 
“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 
“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 
“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 
-
Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.
“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.
“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 
“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 
“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.
“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 
“No shit.” 
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.
“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 
“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”
“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 
“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 
“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.
“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 
“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 
“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”
“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 
“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 
“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”
-
Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 
The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”
“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 
“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 
The man was immediately intimidating.
“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 
“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”
“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.
“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.
“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”
“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?
“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.
“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 
“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 
Eddie Munson. Munson. 
Oh.
Oh!
It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?
“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”
“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”
“Why not?” the doctor asked. 
“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”
“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”
Damn. This guy’s kinda good.
“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”
“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”
Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 
Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 
“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.
“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 
“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 
“You tell me.”
Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.
“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 
“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 
“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”
“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”
“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 
“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.
“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 
“Are you still currently dealing?”
“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”
“Dude,” Steve whispered. 
“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 
“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 
They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?
“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”
“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”
“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 
“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”
It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 
They made another appointment.
-
“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 
“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 
“You should have told me,” Steve said. 
“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”
“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”
“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.
“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 
“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”
It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.
“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”
“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 
“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”
“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -
“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 
“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 
Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 
“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 
“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.
“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 
“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 
“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 
Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 
“You’re with me, aren’t you?”
Fuck.
“Fine,” Steve agreed. 
-
Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18
Eddie and Steve
Together since high school
Feelings of disconnect
Steve/dogwalker
Eddie/mom/drugs
Clearly lying
Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 
They aren’t dating…but they should be
(next chapter)
------------------------------------
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veryace-ficrecs · 7 months
Text
Batman Outsider POV Fic Recs
This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)
Wait... you're backup? by Ceciliedr - Rated T
When her team is captured by Lex Luther, Traci can do little more than cross her fingers for a rescue. When someone does crash the party, it isn't anyone she knows. Traci sincerely hopes the guy in the red helmet is on their side.
library card by mikkal - Rated T
Jason Todd, Red Hood, and the Park Row Public Library (and her librarians).
Finding a New Perspective by njw - Rated T
“I got this, Hood.” Red Robin sounds annoyed as he arcs and twists through the air, kicking one henchman into another and wrenching the gun away from a third while simultaneously retracting his grappling line and then launching it to catch another unwary henchman. Just, how?
“I can see you do,” Red Hood says, and wait. Was his voice always that deep? Is he… Maya squints. Is he staring at Red Robin’s ass?
She blinks, then studies the line of sight more closely. Maybe he’s just checking out Red Robin’s kneecaps, in preparation for shooting at them? That seems more his style. Sexual attraction is kind of confusing and she still doesn’t totally believe Tosh that it’s actually as big a thing as people make it out to be—seriously, do other people really spend that much time thinking about it? Sounds fake but okay.
But no, Red Hood’s helmet is totally pointed at Red Robin’s ass. Huh. That’s new.
Captain Marvel's Adopted? by Len_suilon_mellon - Rated T
When Captain Marvel sends out a distress call, the only League member available is Batman. Bruce comes to his aid, but he finds out that Billy is a 10-year-old homeless orphan with black hair and blue eyes. Obviously, he makes the only logical decision and adopts Billy. Because it's Bruce—who's allergic to revealing life-changing information—the League is left in the dark. This story is written as 5+1 story from the Justice League's POV as they attempt to define the weird relationship between Batman and Captain Marvel. 5 times they didn't realize Batman had adopted Captain Marvel, and the 1 time they did.
The Startling Secret Identity of The Batman by Nokomis - Rated T
Good evening, super-sleuths! Boy, do we have a treat for you today. We’re delving into one of the biggest unsolved mysteries of the modern era. The million-dollar question. The billion-dollar question, if one of these theories holds water. That’s right. We’re gonna risk life, limb and sanity by asking the question… who is The Batman? [In-universe Buzzfeed Unsolved accidentally stumbles on Batman’s secret identity. The Batfam reacts.]
playacting by nex_et_nox - Rated G
“So,” Jim said, “are you one of Wayne’s new kids?” Because only siblings acted that way toward each other, and it seemed like every time Gotham turned around, Bruce Wayne was adopting more kids. It was a reasonable question. “What?” Jay asked. “No, I’m—” He paused. Very slowly, his head tilted as he looked over Jim’s shoulder in the most obvious way he possibly could. Jim Gordon accidentally meets the "newest" member of the Wayne family.
5 times the Justice League catch Bruce acting domestically by TimesBeingWhatTheyAre - Rated G
...and the one time he lets them see it aka 5 times the kids torment Bruce, and the time that he actually arranges a meet-up and minds are blown
the politics of dancing by TheResurrectionist - Not Rated
After months of silence following his mysterious resurrection from the dead, the prodigal Wayne heir shows up at an unlikely meeting. “Where is Mr. Wayne?” Jason crossed his legs, cracking his neck. “He’s not coming.” “I was assured Mr. Wayne would be here.” “Tough. Looks like you’ll have to settle for me, huh?”
I Love My Gay Son(s) by reeby10 - Rated G
But the part that had everyone’s attention was the shirt, a plain white t-shirt with “I LOVE MY GAY SON” emblazoned across the chest in bold, rainbow letters.
Bat Out Of Hell by arguablysomaya - Rated G
Five times the Bats are weird, and one time that weirdness saves the world Or, the Bats are weird, everyone that’s even remotely aware of the superhero game knows this. But, odd as they are, they’re still humans. Which is why it should probably be impossible that they’re such forces of chaos. And when they’re all together? Well, most people are just glad they’re on the good side. And they are. Mostly.
The five times Flash came to Gotham for help and the one time he didn't need to (5+1) by Silver_Athena - Not Rated
Barry needs help solving a murder, he goes to Gotham for help. Though he's looking for Batman he seems to constantly run into new heroes. Why do they all seem connected to Batman? --- “You know where he lives?” “I practically live there myself, why is this so surprising to you? You’ve worked with him for- Oh… oh my God, you guys don’t know!"
A Break in Tradition by incogneat_oh - Not Rated
Gordon had seen something when he caught the canary yellow cape out the corner of his eye– something in the way the kid had moved. So he figures he should ask, “You doing okay up there, son?” AKA: The one where Jim Gordon minds a tiny vigilante until his bigger, scarier partner can collect him.
gotham aviary by pepperfield - Rated G
“I see you have a new addition to the family,” Bella says, smiling at the group pushing their father along toward the plaza stairs. “Yeah, we stole him from his backyard,” Jason tells her brightly.
“average billionaire adopts 1000 children a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average billionaire adopts 0 children per year. Orphans Bruc, who lives in cave & adopts over 1 child each month, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.
what goes around by Goldmonger - Rated G
A civilian accidentally kills the Joker. It’s a confusing time for everybody.
artemis crock coming to the wrong conclusions by impravidus - Rated G
Nightwing has his hands outstretched, his palms opening and closing exaggeratedly. Red Hood shakes his head. “I am not gonna—” “Just one?” Nightwing interjects sweetly. “Please please please?” “You are such an idiot—” “Just ooone. C’mon, Hood. Don’t these arms look so warm and inviting?” “Inviting for a stab, yeah.” Artemis sees Nightwing being his affectionate (or as Red Hood would put it, extremely annoying) self and comes to the wrong conclusions.
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fkinkindagauche · 25 days
Text
Hot Knife
Posting just a snippet here of a one-shot I wrote while work was super slow the past few days and I had this song stuck in my head non-stop (Hot Knife by Fiona Apple). It's omegaverse, which I know is not everyone's cup of tea, so you have been warned! Full tags on AO3.
Read the full fic on AO3
Rating: Explicit | Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, mentions of Chrissy Cunningham/Robin Buckley | Tags: AU No Upside Down, AU Omegaverse, AU College, AU Modern Setting, full tags on AO3
I'm a hot knife, I'm a hot knife
I'm a hot knife, he's a pat of butter
If I get a chance, I'm gonna show him that
He's never gonna need another, never need another
“Him,” Steve said confidently, nodding across the dining hall at a gangly man with a mess of long brown hair who looked like he'd just walked out of a Mötley Crüe show.
“ Eddie Munson ?” Robin asked, nearly spitting out the mouthful of soda she'd just taken.
“Is that his name?” Steve asked, watching as the man - Eddie - nearly tripped over his own feet walking to a table.
“He's not exactly your type, Steve,” Robin replied. 
“I smelled him in the elevator. He's my type.”
“Okay, but he's, like, a huge fucking nerd. He's a music major. He plays Dungeons and Dragons. And he's in a heavy metal band.” She just kept listing things, like it was going to do anything to change Steve's mind.
He waved a hand at her dismissively. “Don't care,” he said, still watching. Eddie was talking to the other people at his table now, gesturing vigorously with his hands then throwing his head back and laughing loud enough that Steve could hear it across the dining hall.
“If you start something with Munson your swim team friends are finally gonna actually disown you,” Robin said. “You being friends with me was bad enough.” 
“Yeah, I think I’m at the point where I’m okay with that. They’re boring.” He had spent his sophomore year becoming increasingly annoyed with his teammates, who seemed to want to stay mired in the same types of people and pastimes they’d experienced in high school. He had enjoyed it during his first year, it had been nice to have continuity and had made the transition to college less jarring, but now he found he was looking for something more , and they all wanted to stay the same. 
He had met Robin in one of his classes, a geeky girl who had no interest in sports beyond what she observed from her section in the marching band, but she constantly made him laugh, and she was an omega, his first real omega friend. He had always been the only omega on the swim team, a bit of a freak of an omega given his large size and muscle mass. The other guys on the team had a tendency to completely forget about his designation, given the scent patches he wore all the time.
“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Steve announced, pushing his chair back. 
Robin shrugged. “Your funeral,” she said, and Steve rolled his eyes. He knew he was a very attractive and charismatic man, Eddie would probably be excited to be approached by him. 
Steve walked over to the table, Eddie still deep in conversation with his friends as he approached, not even looking up at Steve. A couple of his friends glanced up with confused looks on their faces, but Eddie just continued holding court. 
Steve sat in an empty seat directly across from Eddie, who finally acknowledged his existence. “What do you want, jock boy?” Eddie asked, derision evident in his tone. “I don’t sell to athletes, that’s a surefire way to get expelled while you just get a slap on the wrist.” 
Oh, he was a drug dealer. Robin had left that bit out of her list. “I’m not here to buy,” Steve said, holding out a hand. “I’m Steve Harrington.” He hit Eddie with his best bedroom eyes. He knew Eddie couldn’t smell him through the scent patch, but surely he’d heard of Steve Harrington, omega swim team superstar.
Eddie just stared at Steve’s hand, not extending his own. “Can I help you with something, Harrington?” He sounded annoyed. “Or are you just here to stare and interrupt our conversation?”
Okay, that was unexpected. This was not going the way Steve had expected. He typically had no trouble picking up alphas, in fact they tended to be the ones throwing themselves at Steve. He could deal with this, though. Just a little pushback. He’d try again when there weren’t so many people around, maybe Eddie was just shy.
“No, just wanted to introduce myself,” Steve said, smiling. 
Eddie waited for a moment then waved his hand away from the table. “Well, introduction done. Run along, jock boy.”
Steve stood, walking back over to Robin who had dissolved into snorting laughter at the table. 
“Oh my god, you just got shot down so hard,” she said between laughs. “How’s it feel, King Steve?” 
“He must not get subtlety, I might need to be more explicit,” Steve said, refusing to let his confidence take a hit. 
Robin wiped a few tears away from her eyes. “Sure, Steve. It definitely couldn’t just be that there’s one alpha out there in the world that won’t immediately whip their knot out for you at the first sign of interest.” 
***********
Eddie wasn’t sure what Harrington had been doing talking to him, if not to buy drugs. Maybe he was still angling for that, just trying not to scare Eddie away. Eddie knew who he was; everyone knew who Harrington was. Not just the golden boy of the swim team, but an omega with a pussy made of gold, to hear some of the alphas talk. 
He was also a cocky asshole too convinced of his own importance, and Eddie didn’t want to have anything to do with him. 
“What did Harrington want?” Gareth asked, like he hadn’t been sitting there right next to Eddie through the whole conversation.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Eddie said, and looped the conversation back around to what they had been talking about before, the upcoming campaign for the D&D club. He didn’t want to waste any more breath on that man.
************
Steve really tried to give up on Eddie after that first flop, but he found he couldn't stop thinking about him. When he'd caught a whiff of him in the elevator it had triggered the strongest response he'd ever had to a scent. The most immediately noticeable notes of his scent were pretty typical alpha scents, something in the woody family with cloves mixed in, but underneath that Steve could catch hints of something sweeter, possibly jasmine, maybe even vanilla. Not typical alpha scents. Layered underneath all of that was just a hint of patchouli. A thoroughly sophisticated scent. 
He'd tried to describe all of this to Robin to explain why he wouldn't give up yet, but she found his hyperfixation on scents in general annoying, and even though she was an omega she had never been able to pick apart a scent as well as he could. Robin's lack of interest notwithstanding, he was too intrigued to give up after just one miss. 
As luck would have it, after swim practice the next day he found himself in the mailroom at the same time as Eddie,  who was filling in the address on an envelope. It seemed like Eddie never wore scent patches; Steve was once again surrounded by his scent as soon as he walked into the mailroom. Eddie didn’t even look up as Steve walked in and grabbed his mail.
“Hello,” Steve said when it became clear Eddie wasn’t going to acknowledge him.
Eddie looked at him, frowning, and his scent went a little sour. “What do you want?” he asked.
“Just… saying hi,” Steve said awkwardly, not sure how this man kept robbing him of his typical charm.
“Alright, you’ve completed your task, run along,” Eddie said, waving a hand toward the door. The hostility was a bit shocking to Steve, who had always managed to skate through life liked by everyone around him.
“Did I do something to you at some point that I don’t remember?” Steve asked, perplexed. 
Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, Harrington. I just have very little time for drug seeking rich boys who could get me expelled if I sell to them.” 
“I’m not looking for drugs,” Steve protested. “I’m just trying to talk to you.” 
“Sure, sure,” Eddie said, looking like he very much did not believe Steve. He finished writing on the envelope and threw it into the mail slot, brushing past Steve as he left the mail room, not even saying goodbye.
Steve was honestly a bit shocked. He didn’t think anyone had ever been that mean to him, especially not anyone he was showing interest in. He was really going to have to step up his game.
************
“Steve, you forgot your scent patch again,” Robin said as he sat next to her in the dining hall. 
“I didn’t forget it,” he replied. “I intentionally didn’t put one on.”
Robin furrowed her brow. “I thought you stopped needing to do that to get laid a while ago.” 
Steve sighed. “I thought so, too. But it appears there are still some people resistant to the powers of my scentless charm and reputation.” He looked over at the table where Eddie was sitting with his friends.
“What do you know about him?” he asked Robin, nodding toward Eddie.
Robin looked over her shoulder, following his gaze and sighing. “Really? You're still on this?”
“Yes, I’m still on this.”
“Is this just one of those things where you feel slighted by his rejection so now you need to relentlessly pursue him just to prove you can?”
“No, I told you. It’s his scent.”
Robin made a frustrated noise. “You are so weird about scents, Steve. I mean, I’m an omega, too. I have a nose. He just smells like an alpha. Maybe like an alpha who spent too long in a New Age bookstore, but not in a compelling way.” 
“Well he wouldn’t smell that good to you . I think we’re scentmates,” he declared, but Robin only rolled her eyes. 
“Okay, first, those don’t exist. Second, you claim you’ve found your scentmate at least once a semester, yet you never seem to want to keep them around after the novelty wears off. Doesn’t seem like a fated pair situation to me.”
“None of those were real! This time it is.” He was well aware of how ridiculous he sounded, but it was true. Sure, he’d really liked the way all those other people had smelled, but this was much more visceral. He felt drawn to Eddie in a way he had never experienced before.
“Okay, Steve,” Robin said with a long-suffering sigh. 
The person sitting next to Eddie stood to leave, and Steve took his chance. He stood up and walked over, sitting down next to Eddie. “Hi Eddie,” he said, leaning in as close as he could without risking a punch to the face, so Eddie could get a good whiff. 
Eddie turned to him and glared, but Steve could see his nostrils flare and his eyes widen incrementally before his face snapped back into neutrality. “This is getting old, Harrington. If you don’t want drugs then could you please tell me what you do want so I can never speak to you again?” 
Not a promising response, but at least he’d gotten a little bit of a reaction. “Just wondering if you’re free this weekend,” Steve said. “There’s a party at the Sigma Chi house.”
Eddie laughed in his face, stopping when Steve frowned. “Christ, are you serious? Absolutely not, I wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party.” 
Okay, yeah, maybe Steve had miscalculated there, it was just the first thing he thought of. “Right. They’re not great. What do you usually do for fun on the weekends?”
“What is this conversation?” Eddie asked, looking more confused than pissed off at this point. “What is your aim here, Harrington? Is this like some sort of prank with your jock buddies?”
Steve made an exasperated noise. “I don’t even hang out with them anymore outside of practice and meets. Not sure if you’ve noticed but I pretty much just spend all my time with Buckley now,” he said, motioning towards Robin.
“I haven’t noticed, because I do not give two shits about you. I don’t even give one shit. No shits are given. Now go away and stop bothering me, you’re putting me off my food.” He pointedly turned his back on Steve, who got up and walked away, a little shell-shocked. He heard a few snickers from Eddie’s friends. 
Plopping down next to Robin, Steve put his head on his arms. “That didn’t look like it went well,” Robin said, patting Steve on the back. “Was he not immediately entranced by your luscious scent?” 
Steve half-heartedly threw an elbow at her. “I could tell he noticed it, but it didn’t help. I think he really doesn’t like me.”
Robin made a sympathetic noise. “This must be very new for you, to not be liked.”
“It is,” Steve whined, sounding pitiful even to his own ears. 
“I mean, you have to admit. You probably have, like, nothing in common with him,” Robin said. 
“How can I know that if he won’t even talk to me?”
“Okay, fair,” Robin admitted.
“What do you know about him?” Steve asked, picking up his head. 
“I already told you everything I know - D&D, heavy metal, and music school. You are interested in none of those things.”
“I could be, though,” Steve said. “Does his band actually have gigs?” 
Robin sighed. “I don’t know, Steve. Are you seriously going to keep pursuing this?” 
“Yes, absolutely. I will not back down from a challenge.” 
Read the full fic on AO3
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
Text
if you call me back
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'mutual pining' rated: T wc: 864 cw: angst with a happy ending, mention of being drunk tags: mutual pining, long distance friends, friends to lovers
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Hey, Eds, just me checking in. Dustin said you lost your job and I didn't know if you already had another one or not. Uh. Just call me when you can."
"Me again. Heard you got a new job! I didn't even know a record store opened in Hawkins. You must be happy about that. Um, well, I guess call me when you can?"
"I know this is kinda the worst to get a lot of voice messages, but I just...miss you? Sorry, I just. Needed you to know that. If I upset you or something, you can tell me."
"Eds! Listen! If you call me back, I gotta tell you something! Robin said I can't say it over the phone though! Ouch, sorry, just stubbed my toe. Uh, okay wait. I think I'm drunk."
Eddie listened to every voice message on repeat every night before bed.
He didn't know why he didn't call Steve back, especially after the last message that left him dangerously hopeful that he would admit he had feelings for him.
They'd naturally drifted when Steve moved away with Robin, though they'd kept up weekly phone calls for months. The highlight of Eddie's week was getting to talk to Steve about the kids and hear about his exciting life in the city.
But after a few months, the calls got shorter, and then Eddie decided that he had to pull away completely before Steve unintentionally broke his heart.
It wasn't Steve's fault he couldn't keep things strictly platonic.
The phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts.
He looked at the clock and frowned. It was much later than Steve usually called, even the one drunk message was from closer to ten instead of one in the morning.
He answered, hoping it was just Wayne checking in from work.
"Hello?"
"Edward."
Robin.
"How're things, birdie?" Sounding casual would work for him, right?
"Things for me would be a lot better if I wasn't dealing with the mopiest human being on the planet right now."
He could hear the crossed arms in her voice.
"Oh?"
"Oh? That's all you've got? You don't return Steve's calls for almost two months and all you've got is 'oh'?"
Had it really been that long?
"I-"
"Don't wanna hear it. Can you please at least call him back and break his heart so he can move on? I cannot deal with the pining anymore."
She hung up before he could respond.
Well.
He dialed the number for their apartment, hoping Robin would at least explain more of what she meant.
"'Lo?" Steve's voice, rough with sleep, answered.
"Uh."
"Eddie?" Steve sounded like he'd just had cold water thrown on him, much more awake. "Holy shit. Hi."
"Hey. Uh-"
"I'm sorry," Steve interrupted.
"Sorry? For what?"
"Whatever I did to make you not wanna talk to me."
"Steve, I-"
"No, I just. I know sometimes I'm needy or clingy or whatever. Robin doesn't mind it because she is, too, but I know it's annoying. Like, you have a life that I don't belong in and I just have to get used to that. I should've taken the hint sooner."
Eddie's heart was racing.
Now. Do it now.
"Why would you think you don't belong in my life?"
"It's just that you always talk to everyone else, but not me. I kinda got the message, just, maybe later than you hoped."
"Stevie..." Eddie sighed, his grip on the phone tightening. "I miss you every minute of every day. I just thought...you seem happy there. I don't wanna make you feel like you owe me anything."
A whimper could be heard on the other end and Eddie felt his stomach drop.
"Eds, I." A pause. "I didn't wanna do this over the phone, but I won't be back in Hawkins for another month. I'm sorry this might change everything, but I can't keep doing this. I love you. I love you so much that some days I think about packing up and moving back there because having you laughing next to me on the couch sounds worlds better than anything this city has to offer. You've been one of my best friends for a year, and not having you next to me is like my chest is actually trying to cave in on itself."
"Oh." Oh.
"Oh?"
"Oh."
"Is that...all?"
"No, sweetheart, I just think I'd like to say the rest in person. Think you can make time for me to visit tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? Don't you have work?"
"Not anymore. Tell Robin to stay somewhere else."
"Oh."
Eddie smirked as Steve let out a breath and cleared his throat.
"I have a shift in the morning, but I can be home right after lunch?"
"Perfect." Eddie started pacing as he mentally planned what he needed for his four hour drive. "Grab some lube if you don't have some. We've got a lot of time to make up for. Oh! And before I go, I love you too."
"You do?"
"Yeah, Stevie. Kind of been head over heels for the better part of a year."
"Oh."
"Mhm."
"Tomorrow?" Steve was smiling and Eddie could feel his heart melting.
"Tomorrow."
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midnight-pluto · 1 year
Text
COFFEE: PG.08 — Realization
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COFFEE: Tim Drake x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: Tim meets a barista that gives him what he needed most — a large coffee with way to many shots of espresso. Though what happens when just a single action changes the other's life, forever?
TW: a karen karening and not respecting pronouns, online discourse caused by said Karen (twitter being twitter) lemme know if I missed anything
coffee master list || prev. || next
SUNDAY, APRIL 7 2023 — 9:32 PM
A NORMAL EVENING one would say was happening in the current life of Y/N L/N; except it really wasn’t.
“I really, don’t understand why you can’t just redo my order! I specifically asked for chocolate drizzle, not caramel. Why is that so hard to understand?!”
“Uh, ma’am. I did in fact tell you that we were out of chocolate drizzle and asked if you were fine with caramel, to which you answered: ‘yeah, whatever,’” you forced a smile as politely as you could.
“Oh! So you’re giving me attitude now,” she loudly scoffed.
“No, that was just me repeating what you said.”
“I will not stand for this false accusation and blatant disrespect!”
‘Oh a big word. Didn’t know she knew how to do that.’
Fortunately, a familiar figure entered the café; eye bags evident as ever.
“Oh good. Tim Drake, someone actually competent around here, this cashier, worker, whatever! Is refusing to remake my drink after he made it wrong!” the woman huffed out.
Tim eyebrows furrowed in confusion - ‘I don’t even work here,’ - looking towards you for a different explanation.
“Uh, it’s they - I have it on my name tag - and I informed you that we were out of chocolate drizzle and you accepted caramel as a substitute.”
“Okay, how about we all just discuss this outside,” Tim offered gently pushing the lady towards the door.
“Ugh fine,” she loudly declared, stomping over to the door.
“Great, do you have the keys?” Tim asked you once she was out the door waiting.
‘Oh so that’s what he’s doing.’
“Yeah hold on,” you said walking out from behind the counter and taking your keys out of your pocket and heading over to the door to lock it.
As you inserted the keys to lock the door, the lady locked out looked at you - appalled.
“Alrighty, so do you want your usual?” you tilted your head towards your favorite customer.
“Yes please. But before that I’ll have to head to the bathroom, I have Karen germs on me now,” he grimaced heading towards the other side of the café.
Nodding your head, you return to your spot behind the register before taking out your phone.
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TIMESKIP — 12:01 AM
As you were closing up shop, your mind began to wander to places you thought you forgot about long ago.
‘Do I actually like Tim that way? I mean, I know a lot of people do but we actually have a physical connection and I’d like to say we’re more than acquaintances, right? I mean he said that I’m his favorite barista so that has to mean something and he’s my favorite customer. But are you sure it’s not because he gives you a $20 tip? I… think? Oh damn am I really that shallow? Wait, do I actually like a guy named Tim?’
‘Eh whatever. These feelings will pass by and be buried just like the rest of my crushes… right? I mean like he’s pretty, he’s not an ass, he knows how to get rid of annoying customers, but- ugh. I hate this. Why do feeling feel?!’
As you unlock the door to your apartment you exasperatedly put your stuff down and flop your body on the couch in front of your TV.
‘…so theoretically, if I did have feelings for Tim… would I do anything about them? Should I do anything about them?’
Looking up from your face plant onto the couch cushions, you let out a groan, “Man… so that shit is definitely not theoretical huh?”
‘KNOCK. KNOCK.’
Lifting up your whole body to look at the sliding glass door that lead to your balcony you see that it was none other than a non-caped bluesader with Cardinal Red Robin carried underneath his arm.
You both stared at each other through the glass for a moment; Nightwing knocking on the glass every 10 seconds, before rolling your body off the couch and opening the door for the malnourished man to be plopped into your arms.
“That’s two IOU’s Nightwing.”
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SPECIAL NOTE: so schools starting back up for me which means that I’m probably gonna start updating more often 🤭 Oh and I also used an app this time to make the tweets instead of a site; woohoo ig
TAGLIST: @grandstrangerphantom @marsbars09 @fabitheraven @lovelypitasworld @dyjcksn @mae77eris @sugarrush-blush @djchik @soundsfunbutno @apizzacalledmel @strangetrashblog @cipheress-to-k-pop @harleycao [ if your name isn’t highlighted then I wasn’t able to tag you. if you would like to join, feel free to send me an ask or to comment! ]
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