#Boys In Love

[sadbenedict]

After another mission, they are both tired, but still want to spend time together since they are both stubborn. Yuji tells him about the new film, but Megumi just sighs but continues to listen intently

I also think in most cases the little spoon is Yuji, but by morning he's spread all over the bed

[starcrossedstarfishes]

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #24: The Midwest Prince(ss)

Danny is a Singer/Siren/Banshee au where he’s basically a Chappel Roan-type figure.( Also, I'm Dead on Main trash so Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Celebrity x Civilian romance for two of my favorite boys)

Danny’s Ghostly Wail develops into vocal manipulation bc he’s a siren or banshee. Ember teaches him to sing and control the power. He finds music is a good outlet for his emotions and decides to pursue music as Danny. It takes him a few years but he develops a style and brand that he bases off the Realms. However, he doesn’t anyone to connect him to Phantom so he uses parts of his ancestors’ names to become “Walker Gale”(shout out to my beautiful mutual @mirigold-mayflowers for helping me pick that name), ordinary small-town midwestern boy turned Music Icon. He hires Val as his personal bodyguard, Sam as his manager, and Tucker as his head stage tech.

He dresses in really campy clothes the low-key mimic his ghost form as well as other ghosts he’s met. The outfits change to match the vibe of the song. So a rock ballad with an outfit inspired by Ember, Show Tunes-Murder Mystery-type-beat with a costume for Amorpho, EDM-techno-hyperpop themed song styled after Technus or Skulker, etc. He just has a lot of fun experimenting with his appearance and he’s an icon for it. He even makes friends with Star and Paulina through this and they give him feedback and help with new looks. The eventually join the team as his PR and Styling team.

Since he’s a banshee/siren all his songs have this underlying despair/sadness even if they have a fun and bubbly beat. He also references his feelings about being/hiding as Phantom and being partially dead and shit but vaguely so no one actually knows or assumes it’s a metaphor. Many of the themes are actually things lgbtq people identify with, specifically trans and bi fans. He also references battles he’s fought and ppl assumes he’s talking about mental illness or abuse which attracts another category of fans altogether. Again inspired by Chappel Roan his first album his called "The Ascent and Downfall of a Midwest Prince" gaining him the nickname the "Midwest Prince".

He’s weird and unfiltered and full of emotion and he gains a few fans in the hero community too. Raven and Zatanna start a fan club for him, well aware he’s some type of banshee/siren but knowing that the extent of his powers are being used to deliver beautiful performances. The are staunch supporters of him and his music and spread it to their friends. The current fan club is Co-Presidents Zatanna + Raven, VP Greta(Secret, a.k.a: a ghost hero), Starfire, Bart, Cassie, Tim, Kon + Jon, Steph, Cass, and Billy.

His identifying features are a signature make-up look and white underdye (when the color is on the underside of the hair). He’s grown his hair longer so it’s not super visible when he has it down and not styled. He also looks different without make-up so he can totally go unrecognized in public and live life semi-normal (as normal as a half-ghost vigilante powerhouse superstar can be). He actually planned it to be that way so that he could still go to college and stuff even though he’s doing it mostly online. All this to say that Danny has low-key got a Hannah Montana thing going on. Also, let's mix it up a bit and say he's based in Star City.

One day Danny goes to a second-hand book store because he's looking for a cheap textbook when he bumps into an absolute hunk of a man who doesn't seem to recognize him. Jason had been in Star City to visit Roy and Lian. He stopped at a second-hand bookstore to see if he look for some older editions of books (one time he found a second edition copy of Persuasion so he likes to peruse) and ran into a super pretty boy who made his chest feel funny and doesn't realize he's a Wayne. They got to talking about started really connecting. They decided to exchange numbers and kept in touch, meeting up every now and then when they had the chance. Danny gave him his private social media accounts so Jason never learned much more beyond that Danny worked in the music industry but not his exact role in it.

Eventually Danny moves to Gotham, either bc he switched labels or to be closer to Jazz whose doing her doctorate thesis on reforms that need to be made in Arkham. He and Jason begin meeting up in person more frequently and start catching feelings. Danny really wants to ask him out but feels sleazy doing it without telling Jason about his past and superstar alter ego. However, he also doesn't want to lose the mostly normal friendship they have. On the flipside Jason wants to date Danny but doesn't want to drag him into the life of a vigilante or the life of a Wayne. Both of them Pine and Agonize over this. In the end Danny decides to bite the bullet and tell Jason who he is, every part of who he is. He invites Jason over for a movie night and tells him he's got something important to tell Jason.

That same day Starfire decides to introduce Walker Gale's work to the other Outlaws and Jason really resonates with his work. He identifies with the lyrics on a literal and physical level and recognizes the underlying emotions that usually only other ghosts or liminals can. Starfire overjoyed that her friend likes his music decides to show Jason some of his music videos and photos. Jason, not being blind or an idiot, recognizes not only the props and costumes but his crushes face under that (very well done) make-up.

Jason is stunned and conflicted: it’s not like Danny lied to him about who he was, but he was entirely truthful either. Did he assume Jason knew? Or did he just not trust Jason? Why did he even bother with Jason, a seemingly regular guy, if he had such a claim to fame? And Jason keeps listening to his music and it’s speaks to him the same way hanging out with Danny does, making him feel seen and connected. It makes him all the more sure that someone incredible as Danny doesn’t need someone like Jason. He heads to Danny’s place that night very subdued.

He gets to Danny’s place and the smile that greets him twists him up inside. He puts on a mask and tries to act normal but Danny can tell somethings up but persists as he has made up his mind to be clear with Jason. He sits him down and tells him there is something important he wants to tell Jason. He starts by letting Jason know that he cares about him very much and appreciates the normality and closeness of their friendship. He confesses that he doesn't normally get that bc well, he's the superstar "Walker Gale". Danny goes onto say that the reason he didn't say anything earlier was because he treasures the simplicity of what he had with Jason and the reason he's telling him now is because he couldn't continue a relationship that he wants more from without being completely honest.

Jason's heart thunders in his chest and he stares at Danny with a slightly constipated look. Danny asks Jason what's wrong and on an impulse Jason word vomits his feelings. That he actually found out through a friend earlier today, that he really connected to his music the same way he did with Danny, that he's never felt seen the way Danny sees through him, that he's never felt the same way as deeply before, that he's completely and utterly in love with Danny but was scared to say anything and get him involved with his crazy life and the Waynes. And Danny sits and listens shellshocked.

And the only thing Danny can think to do is kiss this incredible boy senseless and tell him that if he likes him back then they can figure it out.

[lukas-dusk]

Steve over the phone : I'm busy. Studying. Naked!

Eddie over the phone : Is that supposed to keep me away?

Ten minutes later...

Steve : Eddie? You're at my house!

Eddie : And you're dressed. I wonder who's more disappointed.

[xavier-kav]

Microwave

[red-moon10]

[manwrre]

headcanon steve is super ultra mega overprotective of his boyfriend, billy. this, i know for a fact because he told me so literally today.

i feel like he’s one of the few people who truly acknowledges and remembers that billy’s actually younger than him?? and younger than he looks in general. outwardly, he kinda gets it— billy’s a bit above average height and has honed his body into something solid and firm. his voice carries and his attitude is reinforced by his ability to pack a freaking punch, so yea, he knows what it looks like. he knows what it feels like.

but even when billy’s all wound up and angry, all steve sees is a boy who’s had to be anything but himself for as long as he’s been alive. he sees a boy who hasn’t had anyone in his corner ever since his mom died and has been forced to fight all of his battles alone; without the comfort of support or solace.

and this remains true, even after starcourt, when billy is admittedly more vulnerable; even when he’s back on his own two feet and his sonofabitch father intends on making his life a living hell. and steve remembers the hell that billy had been put through that night—how cold he had been in his arms and logically, threatens the beat the shit out of neil hargrove.

okay, he doesn’t but he does remind him, rather pointedly, that he knows “hopper, the chief?” just to watch the smug expression bleed off of the older man’s face. he takes advantage of neil hargrove’s terse silence and helps billy pack most of his things evenly into the camaro and beemer.

and living away from neil does wonders to billy. he’s a little bit shyer, a little softer but it’s much like a child who’s been gifted this wonder and is waiting for the other boot to drop.

everyone still anticipates the blonde’s sneering and spitting but he’s the only one looking for the barely perceptible shake of his hands. he’s the only one who knows, privately, that billy’s only storming out because he’s staving off hot tears.

so when the party comes over to steve’s house for game night and billy makes himself scarce, steve knows it’s because he’d rather disappear, than possibly face their rejection or be the root of their discomfort.

he understands that billy knows how important time with the kids is for him; how much he adores them. and as the night goes on, steve realizes just how much he’s missed having them around at his. he’s glittering, gleaming— happy.

that is, until their game runs a little too late and eventually, steve hears footsteps padding downstairs.

he’s not the only one that does, though and there’s a pause in their shouting, as everyone’s heads swivel in the direction of the noise.

and there he is, halfway down the stairs and rubbing at his eyes.

billy’s pretty and groggy and steve can just barely make out how sleep-swollen his cheeks are; how soft and sweet he looks. god, he’s so in love with him. he wants to kiss him so badly— “what’s he doing here?”

and that’s all it takes for the smile to get wiped off of steve’s face. his expression shutters and he can feel it happen, knows he must look furious. “you—“ he points a finger at mike and hikes it over his shoulder. “kitchen, now.”

there’s a different kind of silence now in the room and steve doesn’t even look at billy to see exactly what his face is doing in response right now, not when he’s too busy staring mike down. and poor mike, he’s still indignant and defensive about it all as he splutters out a, “but we were all thinking it,” which just makes things worse.

and so, right then and there, he’s all, “you don’t get to come in here— into our home and make him feel less than. things are different now and you don’t have to be his biggest fan but that, you won’t do that,” clearly speaking to everyone in the room. anyway, billy’s touched, it’s all so very sweet because steve’s in his corner and they live happily ever after like all the gays should.

[kohiandie]

gonna gradually get these illustrations all up here little by little -- this was the prompt 'peaches' back for last peachtober but with some andreil flair :-)

snag the prints here!

[fyloune-taylorsversion]

WOLFSTAR WOLFSTAR

some fluff 🤍

Saw this pic on Pinterest and I needed to make it sirius and Remus so there it is

[jojosbizarrekakyoinobsession]

They’re so in sync that they even finish each other’s sentences.

Relationship goals all the way.

[koviscash-art]

"You know you can always text me, Jerč."

"Yes yes, my Jokerman!"

They find comfort in eachother.

"Koton ei oo ketään, eikä ketään kelle tekstata.

Pilkku lyö ku liekit vasten yksinäisen kasvoja."

-----

Decided to finish the sketch since you all seemed to LOVE IT! Thank you all sm for the huge amount of positive feedback!<3

So happy to see that you all like my Bojere art!! Kiitos!!

much love!<3

-Kovis:)

[hitlikehammers]

'who did this to you?' established Steddie, post-S4 🖤💙💜

The bruising’s stark, like footprints on new-fallen snow punished through to the long-dead grass. It draws the eye, insistent; screams to be seen:

“Who did this to you?”

Steve’s eyes are bright, voice low even as he delicately moves Eddie’s stretched-low collar to follow the line of broken vessels near the surface, a few stray snags of already rusty red, lines that follow the trails of mottled purple-blue. Steve smoothes barely a touch from the pad of his thumb just below the marks to trace them where they color neck to chin, up to the silver-light scarring on his face.

And honestly: it’s a ritual almost, now. But, like, it’s so different from how it used to be. Or even how it was before that, before them at all.

Before things ever ended like this.

“Names, babydoll,” Steve coaxes, but demands all the same; he’s learned over time not to bring the full weight of his steel to the fore in every moment—the resolute promise in his bones to protect Eddie at all costs doesn’t disappear, maybe does the opposite even, maybe just grows strong as what they have has grown, too; but it doesn’t burn so bright when it’s expressed in Eddie’s vicinity. Maybe to spare him.

Maybe as a strategic move on Steve’s part, who’s maybe finally learned that if he’s going to go beat the shit out of anyone, he should one-hundred-percent not let his boyfriend or his platonic soulmate—or also Wayne—about it in advance. So:

“Sweetness,” he nuzzles carefully, where Eddie’s skin’s not water-colored in burst-blood; “give me names.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, so easily softened and lulled by Steve’s careful adoration, the way he rubs his nose, his cheek against Eddie and just breathes—it carries Eddie into a soft, comfortable space always, no matter what’s happened; no matter what’s been done.

“Don’t have to,” Eddie sighs out, kinda pathetically desperate in how he leans into Steve’s…just Steve. Steve-Steve-Steve. So he just kinda sighs, because…Steve.

“You know damn well who it was.”

“Don’t play coy,” Steve warns, though its airy, diaphanous, even though Steve doesn’t stop for a second from nuzzling into Eddie’s skin; even but Eddie knows better than to entangle Steve’s softness for Eddie with his broader intentions, the heat behind his words, and the ultimate question:

“Who,” and Steve’s breathe so hot, so close to Eddie’s ear as he whispers, sends fucking shivers down Eddie’s spine; “did this,” and then he’s leaning to run his mouth back along the bruising, the damning trail of damage: “to you?”

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, can’t help but crane his neck to Steve’s careful attention, almost cataloging of the dark splotching, and Eddie can’t help it, it’s not like it even hurts, not really, Eddie knows hurting—

He’s not weird if he kinda feels like most hurting’s worth the high of Steve’s tender care like this, the buzzing flame-like licking across his skin.

Steve doesn’t even make contact with where it could even possibly sting, but fuck if it doesn’t make Eddie light up wild from the pit of his belly.

And fuck if Steve doesn’t know it.

“Mmm-nope,” Steve pulls himself back when Eddie’s reckless, lets out a full-ass fucking moan. “No distracting me,” Steve bites with a glare before he catches Eddie’s gaze and looks down pointedly, points so only the whisper of his touch follows the trail:

“Who did this,” and Eddie is weak, he’s weak because he shivers and when Steve draws his barely-a-touch back, away, he whines. Fuck, yes: he whines, Jesus.

Weak, you understand?

Also, if you don’t understand: fuck you. Eddie would like to see anyone—man, woman, or otherwise—do any better.

“You know,” Eddie keeps with the whining, Jesus fuck, seriously: “I said”

“I think mostly you’ve made noises.”

“Steve,” Eddie…does not break his whining streak. He’s tight in his thighs, and it’s not…he’s gonna need to address that soon.

He’s gonna need someone to address that for him, really.

“Hmm?” Steve leans in, and for the first time he does touch the bruises, tastes them on the flat of his tongue with barely any pressure like he’s collecting evidence, searing proof into his own flesh.

“What’s that now?”

“Steve.”

And he tilts his head at his name, which is less of a whine now—win—but breathy as fuck, still. It’s a process.

“Who did this to you, baby?” Steve asks, eyes wide, innocent and encouraging now as he pulls back and buries his hands in Eddie’s mess of curls, massages as his temples, his scalp.

Fucking dirty pool, right there.

“Steve,” Eddie bites out. Like literally bites his tongue as his head tips back, inescapable for the perfect circles being traced across his head; “Harrington.”

And yes: soon as he gets the words out, the name in full, he stops fighting how just Steve Harrington’s hands are deciding to undo him, this time.

“Hmm, sounds familiar,” Steve hums a little, clicks his tongue and bites a bit at his lip; “but you say it so soft, sweetheart, like maybe you’re hesitant or somethin’,” Steve shakes his head, and tips Eddie’s face toward him a little more full-on, thumb on Eddie’s subtly swollen lower lip:

“Are you one-hundred-percent sure?”

“Absotively posolutely,” Eddie enunciates carefully, never breaking eye contact as he lets his tongue flick out to Steve’s touch and watches those pupils dilate quick to drown that hazel gaze.

“No doubt in your mind?” Steve pushes, relentless, but leans in, leans to breath open mouthed against each bruise:

“Only one,” Eddie sighs, and maybe it sounds frustrated, over the interrogating but hell if he can be over any single goddamn thing about this man.

And it’s the truth. There’s no evidence but Eddie knows Steve leaves his trusty bat at a different angle against the wall the days after Eddie so much as mentions being hassled, or only just slipping the asshats looking to resurrect Jason’s pursuit—the coincidence of every single threat disappearing, suddenly keeping the eyes on the ground if they pass Eddie by, changing course overnight when the bat shifts ever so slightly?

Eddie’d be more concerned, if there was ever any real damage to Steve in response, but in reality he only ever went to put the fear of god in those assholes, he swears he’s never even let a single one of them move quick enough to even try to pull anything on him in return, and well.

Hop doesn’t condone it but he never works too hard to find evidence, and Steve never does anything the technically breaks any obvious laws, so. Eddie thinks it’s Hopper’s way of showing he cares.

But then there’s…this.

There are mornings, like this, when Eddie wakes with bruises around his neck like a chain, a heavy one in the center of his chest like a pendant, little red dashes here and there, barely visible but particular points of interest for Steve when he wakes Eddie up with gentle but unceasing kisses where the bruising doesn’t survive the night so bright, so tender, sucks the blood back up to Eddie lips and leaves them gorgeously numb before he inspect the purple marks: perfectly shaped to his lips.

The tiny red marks perfectly lined to ?i>his teeth.

All of them sucked and nipped so sweet, never hard enough to mark for force but only through persistence, dedication, painted with the single-minded kind of worship Eddie never even considered having focused on him.

So it’s kind of a wondering way that he reaches, reaches out and thumbs Steve lip in return, marveling a little when he tilts his head and takes Steve in for a breath, just basks in him:

“Only one man alive allowed to mark me up,” Eddie whispers, and there’s love in every syllable. Even that’s not really enough but.

They both know.

And Steve’s grin curve slow and satisfied, leaning in to presses his lips, open-mouthed to Eddie’s that he’d already kissed plump as he woke, long before the breaking light through the windows now, catching in Steve’s gaze, had dared fort with the horizon line; he leans right there and breathes hot into Eddie’s mouth:

“Damn fucking straight.”

For @cranberrymoons, who requested the quote 'Who did this to you?' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher

divider credits here

💫 ao3 link here

[marveling-cg]

As a teacher, the suit couldn't really have come at a better time.

When he'd graduated from college, he'd been surprised to see Principal Nezu in the crowd with All Might and Aizawa-sensei, and even more surprised to receive Principal Nezu's invitation to teach at UA - in the hero course no less!

They'd assigned him to the 2nd year hero course -- the 1st years, who were often still figuring out the limits of their quirks, needed teachers who might be able to physically intervene if something went wrong

His first year teaching, he'd spent just trying to get his feet under him: he borrowed a lot of the previous teacher's curriculum while he tried to get the hang of classroom management, and and grading, and parent contact, not to mention conducting practical exercises with his students while he was quirkless

But his second year he started making the curriculum his own: his strength had always been his analysis and he wanted his students to have that, too.

He started adding in case studies for each unit; invited his friends in to give talks about declassified or appropriately anonymized cases they'd worked on

By his third year, he'd gotten his unit plans down to a science: intro topic, host guest speaker, complete case study, hold class discussion, conduct practical exercise, students submit a reflection, test

His first unit of the year was always his favorite -- an intro to battle analysis. He'd never gotten Kacchan to commit to coming on campus, but if Deku sent him footage from a fight, Kacchan would send back a recording of his analysis

Once the kids got over the initial hilarity of Kacchan roasting the shit out of hero or villain or both, they usually asked Deku to play the video back a few more times so they could see just which errors Kacchan had caught, how quickly they could arise, how consequential they could be. It was a great way to get them open to Deku's whole approach to the class, and a good way for them to know that he would accept their work in their own voices -- no need to hide their personalities for points

The rest of the units -- meant to get his students ready to apply for their provisional licenses -- all followed suit.

And since most hero agencies had given new priority to community relations, he could schedule through his friends' offices to get them on campus: Tenya, Uraraka, Tsu, Momo, Shinso were especially reliable guests

And while the first half of the year was dedicated to the practicalities of being on the ground as a hero; the second half was dedicated to the heart of being a hero

They looked at rise of the League of Villains and Stain, talked about the plight of heteromorphs; he pulled in primary sources, they discussed their own personal credos (he liked to use Kacchan's and Hawks' as examples of how different and personal they could be while still leading to similar work), discussed the sociological and psychological impact of challenging quirks

All that to say, year four is the perfect time for the suit to fall into his lap.

He's got his professional shit together

And, though he's let himself shed some of the weight he needed to maintain One For All, he's kept himself in good condition

(High school students are so easily motivated by a little good natured teasing, "you really gonna let your quirkless teacher lap you?" has been a remarkably easy way to keep his kids going through tough conditioning work)

So, after he's managed to stop crying on All Might long enough to schedule a call with Hatsume to go over the specs; and stopped crying after that call long enough to process everything she's shared about its function, he realizes he's going to need to train before he can take this thing out in the field

The suit is incredible: a light exoskeleton that'll enhance his strength, 360 degree sensors that will pick up objects moving at certain speeds or sudden changes in air pressure, a light propulsion system that will allow him brief bursts of flight or slightly longer periods to hover, a chord system that he can use to pull himself forward or restrain villains, a diffuser that will set off a smoke screen

He spends another hour or so after the call with Hatsume to cry about how closely they've tried to recreate the capabilities of One For All

And then spends another four thinking about all of the manual controls he'll need to learn to replicate the skills he used to be able to call forth with a thought.

Thinks too about the kind of conditioning he'll need to do in order to not lose speed or an arm to the weight and propulsion of the suit

He remembers fondly a dirty beach half a lifetime ago; remembers, too, a forest trail where a quirkless All Might declared he'd change the future. Deku can do this.

And there's no better way to address the Kacchan of it all:

He'd tried calling Kacchan after All Might had dropped the news -- and been sent straight to voicemail three times in a row; received back a terse text: u r welcome nerd

Which told him Kacchan wasn't ready to deal -- with Deku's tears, or his gratitude, or with a conversation about how Kacchan had dedicated all of his professional career to funding Deku's dream -- as if all the long hours, and parties missed, and extra shifts covered, hadn't all been some sort of declaration of intent about the rest of their fucking lives

Which was fine. What was Deku going to say anyway?

"Was this a proposal, Kacchan? Because if so, my answer is yes."

That could wait. They had the rest of their fucking lives, apparently.

But in the meantime, Deku needed to train. He couldn't afford to rush this. Kacchan would be furious if Deku got himself hurt because he was being reckless.

So he headed over to the gym in Kacchan's building after work, just in time to catch Kacchan coming in for his biweekly workout.

"I've got a plan. I think I'm going to need to dedicate some attention to these particular muscle groups to protect from injury. I think I probably need to gain a little more muscle, too. Then, I want to start training in the suit. I'll need to get a feel for how it works as a whole in combat and rescue settings. But then I want to work on isolations. Can I trigger just this response as quickly as possible in various circumstances. What can I do or not if I've just got control of the arms or just the legs or just one limb. I've put together a timetable. I think, if you'll help me, I could be ready for field work without injuring myself by the end of this school year."

When Deku finally pauses and looks up from his notebook, Kacchan looks visibly relieved, shoulders down from his ears, that gleam in his eye that's signals amusement in spite of himself, the start of smile tucked into the corner of his mouth

Kacchan snatches the notebook from Deku's hands and looks over the charts. Deku barely grumbles at all at Kacchan's free hand tousling Deku's hair while he skims.

"Alright, dweeb, let's get started--"

[platitudinalteen]

(Can we talk about the small intimacies in my wip please? I recently realized how much I love using tiny details of affection in my work and I need someone to care about this as much as I do, lol.)

"Jon ran his fingers through Damian's hair softly, letting him rest."

"Damian used Jon's shoulder as leverage while standing up."

"Jon ran his thumb over the small scar on Damian's neck as he sat down next to him."

"Damian closed his eyes, resting his head on Jon's shoulder for a moment."

"Jon interlocked their hands underneath the table."

"Damian held his thumb firmly over Jon's pulse, feeling the beat of his heart calm down."

"Jon breathed a sigh of relief, melting into Damian as they pressed their foreheads together."

"Damian brushed his fingertips along Jon's jaw line softly as he slept."

[manwrre]

steve: you’re the most jealous man i know.

billy: you know other men?

[lovebooksforeversblog]

😘 💋 😘